Never forget.
The remains of what we used to have,
Were taken away with the softest squeeze.
How did I forget?
How...?
CHAPTER ONE
The children were playing while Cloud Strife climbed to his death; he could hear them squealing as only happy children do. While dozens of others thundered frantically around, rushing to their positions for the take off to begin, Cloud took his time, each step methodical and ponderous, old boots ringing out on the metal steps lifting him into the monstrous mechanical creature which would take them one step closer to freedom, or to their deaths.
The short ladder, like his father's boots, showed signs of wear. Paint clung to the metal in feeble chips, mostly in the corners and undersides, where they were safe. Traffic upon the plane caused the once gleaming steel to shake unsteadily with each step the blonde cadet took, the scurrying of soldiers akin to that of mice in ripened fields searching frantically for shelter from a watching hawk. Sirens alit the skies with noise, a constant screeching chime which now numbed the ears of many, including Cloud, who was still torn between reality and an inner consciousness he had been so roughly jolted out of when the sirens had began.
Children playing near the runways were soon shooed away by the guards, dogs barking wildly and snapping at their ankles. Those who were not already present within the planes found themselves in a maddened dash, attempting to avoid each other but still find their assigned aircrafts in the process. Cloud lifted one old boot and pressed it onto the final step in the first part of his journey, and rather than shift out of the way for another soldier to clamber on behind him, the cadet found himself pondering of just how many thousands of soldiers had started out this way, taken near identical steps, all to end up tracing back to this path, to follow a country's orders so blindly into a war none of them truly knew what was for. Alive and unworn, dripping happy sounds from afar, the sixteen year old found himself…lost. Barely a child, gun strapped hastily to his back, sweat near pouring out from his pale skin, it was only the hasty bark of a superior officer and the tight clench of a fist upon the green scarf around his neck which dragged him kicking back to reality.
Landing against the inner framework of the aircraft, the blonde was startled to find a helmet tossed onto his lap, near winding him in the process as two more soldiers leapt upon in time for take off. A hiss of air escaped the cabin before the doors were sealed firmly shut, trapping them to their fate of life or death. Examining the helmet, Cloud found the small insignia of their aircraft's registration, along with a cartoon wolf hastily scribbled on with marker. He would have smiled had he not wondered how many others had worn helmets such as these, adorned the mark of the legendary Lone Wolf squadron into battle. His upper lip held stiff, brushing back blonde locks from his sapphire vision, he pulled on the last of his armour, silently announcing his choice to the world.
When a large, muscular arm slumped over his shoulders, shaking him for but a moment to confirm his senses were about him and to reassure him, Cloud's cerulean gaze trailed from his boots to the raven haired man by his side. The lieutenant grinned, raising a thumb from clenched fingers with such obvious confidence that Cloud felt near physically sick. Of course Zack could do this; he'd done it a hundred times before.
Lieutenant Zack Fair, known by both friend and foe for his striking appearance and brash confidence, the twenty year old leader of the Lone Wolf squadron had accomplished many missions in his time as a soldier. Having joined the army shortly after the war between ShinRa and the Western Alliance began, Zack had raised to the top of the ranks within months, fast becoming a favourite among superior officers before his own promotion to lieutenant became official. Stories of the resulting party varied, though most had Zack in the centre of attention as always. Vast contrast to that of one sombre Cloud Strife, who seemed as though he were completely out of place.
Surrounded by battle worn, hardened soldiers, the cadet quietly awaited for the takeoff. The engines roaring into action, a sudden jolt caused the plane occupants to slump backwards in their positions, strapping themselves down into the metal seats. The plane began to slowly trundle forward, fastening its pace only when the sound of another aircraft racing past them signalled the runway was available for takeoff. A silver wad of energy exploding forward, the aircraft shot across concrete, allowing the winds to take hold of its metal body and carry them into the air, the escape from earth complete. Soaring through the heavens themselves, the night skies cast a soft glisten across the body of Lone Wolf as she tilted slightly, following her course. Cloud opened his eyes to find the men around him smiling slightly, having noticed his trepidation to the takeoff. A silent sigh escaped him as he tried to scoot back into the furthest recesses of the plane's side, yet Zack's arm held him in place. That signature grin plastered over his lips, the lieutenant addressed his fellow comrades, seemingly oblivious to the sickness building within Cloud's gut.
"Right ladies! You know the drill! Once we get over the target and the bombs are dropped, we're hopping off and our mission begins!" with a cheer he was signalled to continue, "if all goes to plan, those ShinRa dogs wont even know what hit them."
Cloud merely nodded in response, wondering what on Gaia had possessed him to follow his heart over his brain. Just twelve weeks before, Cloud Strife had been in his hometown of Nibelheim, staring at the television screen broadcasting the latest news of their country's fast dwindling fate. The other boys from his town had left soon after hearing that ShinRa would soon destroy the remains of what was the Western Alliance, heading to Midgar itself to enlist as followers of ShinRa. Yet Cloud would not give up his life as though it was nothing. This mountainous village within a country of ice and stone was much more than a replaceable, forgettable populace of nomad individuals. No, this was his home. Now his heart seemed oddly quiet compared to his brain which was screaming at him at near the same volume as the morning sirens had done.
"Lieutenant, how's your girl?" a young voice rang above all the others in the aircraft, drawing the young blonde's attention.
Zack laughed at this; his characteristic, ever happy-go-lucky charm pouring hope into the hearts of the others who depended on his leadership.
"My fiancée is fine, thank you, corporeal!"
Cloud remained silent. He watched as the men lit cigars and prepared themselves mentally for the upcoming battle. Aeris Gainsborough, the lieutenant's soon to be wife, had been a close friend of the blonde's during his training at the base. Though he had only received the basic twelve week training, and known Aeris for eight of those, he felt the brunette was much more than a simple flower girl who would visit nightly with what little supplies she could spare to them. Akin to a sister he had never had, Aeris had been there for him as a light in the darkness, even when he had desired to quit the force and return to the now desolate lands of Nibelheim. Aeris had been the one to plead with him to stay, to encourage him even when he had thought all hope was lost. With those ever bright, emerald eyes, and a smile fitting of a true angel of the god's, the young woman, along with her ever energetic love Zack Fair, had meant more to Cloud than she would ever know. If he was not fighting for his country, for the steep price of freedom, he was fighting for her, and all those like her, who had never wished for their world to be torn apart piece by piece in an endless war.
An hour passed far quicker than it should have. Turbulence shook them temporarily before the night winds settled to the bullet passing through the atmosphere. One of the other cadets was gossiping loudly with his elders, oblivious to the emotions currently hanging above the battle worn soldiers like a dark mist. Well aware that this could be their last battle, the men were silently smoking, staring at pictures of their wives and children within trembling hands. Even their boisterous lieutenant was now motionless, thick arms crossed over his thicker chest, eyelids concealing the mako infused irises beneath. Cloud found himself wondering if the famous Zackary Fair was really at peace with himself as he appeared to all others, or if he truly was just another human like them, unsure whether the sword upon his back would be carried by another to his grave once the mission was complete, if he would ever taste the scent of his homeland again. Placing a hand on the lieutenant's tanned arm, Cloud found himself reassuring his elder tenderly, a slight smile adorning his features until turbulence reminded him of his sombre mask. Zack's gaze shifted to him, the corner of his lip twitching, as though he were trying to pull one of his signature grins but failing miserably. Cloud lowered his head, letting out a soft sigh. His childhood now felt like something more than two or three lifetimes ago, something he had enjoyed somewhat, though far much more than the current situation he now undertook.
Turning his sapphire gaze to one of the small, barely usable plastic windows far across from him near the cockpit of the plane, Cloud took in the scene of the endless blackness, followed by the slow rays of ancient gold pouring into the metal bird from the rising sun. The night fled in their wake, Lone Wolf gliding through the atmosphere as a harbinger of light, the star of cosmos fighting back the darkness until the skies became a faint, pale blue, light grey shadows cast off by the squadron dotting the ocean below. Around forty other planes of similar models to Lone Wolf formed a line beside them, the sound of engine roar splitting the morning calm, beckoning their approach to their appointed target.
The lands of Midgar.
ShinRa, the government in power of the vast wasteland continent of Midgar, had declared war upon the world after the Western Alliance deemed mako production too dangerous to continue. Now in the fifth year of the bitterly nicknamed 'Great War', the allies were fast running out of supplies. Little remained of the once famous fleet that followed Lone Wolf into battle every sunrise. No, this corral of forty aircrafts was now their final stand. The mission was simple enough; drop two hundred ton of bombs into Midgar's industrial sector, to give the alliance a chance to rebuild their forces while ShinRa repaired their factories. But every pilot, every soldier, knew the skies were not as peaceful as the blue morning skies fooled. This wilderness far above the ocean, casting over the endless deserts of Midgar below, would either be their salvation, or their imminent demise.
Shuffling soldiers quickly strapping themselves in alerted Cloud to their ascent. Leaning back into the cold metal, he pulled the thick straps over his chest and clipped them together, preparing for the assault. Due to the sheer lack of aircraft, bombardiers and carriers had had to become one in this final stand. Scurrying near the cockpit were the Wolf's crewmembers hurrying to radio in to the rest of the squadron, pulling all sorts of gears. Steel screeching past steel, the belly of the plane was opened akin to that of a trap door, revealing the huge megalopolis of Midgar below. Air raid sirens beckoned their arrival, lights pouring through the metal when the plane tilted, the first ten bombs being released. Explosions alit the sky in a mess of ash grey and blinding whites, flames lapping from beneath as though they were gliding over the inner circles of hell itself. More bombs poured from the plane, colliding with the given targets and any building structures in a five mile radius, soon leaving Midgar's capitalized centre in little more than rubble. Cheers echoed through Cloud's ears as the crew and soldiers celebrated their success, yet the feel of victory was soon washed away.
Bullets ran through the sides of the plane, colliding with metal and flesh, soldiers slumping forward in their seats, blood spurting out of the wounds. His cerulean gaze widened in horror, Cloud kept himself strapped in only when Zack's hand landed against his chest to hold him down, the blonde's legs shaking wildly. Zack stared on at the fallen comrades, silently honouring the sacrifice of his friends. Yet the time to grieve was not now. Lone Wolf jolted violently to the side, the roar of enemy engines soaring past them alerting the surviving soldiers to ShinRa's defence. The once orderly squadron was soon lost in a mess of bullets and flames, Lone Wolf battling against the very winds themselves to avoid the mass gunfire aimed directly for them. An allied plane exploded close to them, near taking out one of the wings. Yet Lone Wolf was a monstrosity of a machine. With eight engines, four wings and an oxygen tank large enough to supply the occupants with air for two days, if Wolf took too much damage, the crew could jettison some weight and still manage to return to their base scathed but alive. Yet the sound of summoned monsters swarming the aircrafts around them alerted the pilot to the direness of their situation, even with Wolf's mechanical achievements.
"Lone Wolf to base, come in!" Cloud swallowed at the sound of the radio controller frantically calling out in the flurry of noise and lights, before blood splattered across the inner workings of Wolf, steel having met flesh. Zack still held him steady, the other soldiers soon readying their weapons for the drop. But as the door opened to allow them to dive off, parachutes ready and hearts hardened, ready for battle, a strange, unreal screech poured into the aircraft's depths.
Flames poured through the metal, alighting steel with a bright shine of orange, a summon slashing through the side of the plane, taking out most of the inhabitants inside in one bloodied swoop. The massacre left Cloud's helmet soaked in crimson, his vision now blurred by an ocean of red. Heart pounding in his chest, his stomach tossing beneath thin skin, only the sound of Zack's pained yell caused Cloud to throw back his fear and turn to the superior officer.
Zack grimaced, blood running from his chest just beneath the straps where a bullet had pierced flesh. Glancing at Cloud, his sapphire eyes overflowing with concern and shock, he shook his head.
"I'll be fine! Come on! We have to complete the mission!"
Unbuckling the straps, Zack Fair slumped forward suddenly, landing at the opposite end of the plane as she suddenly began to splutter, an engine tank having been hit. Smoke poured from the tail, the pilot struggling to maintain control. One tank out of eight would still be enough to send them into a blazing inferno if the summon caught them in it's scolding claws once more, yet that was the least of their worries. The oxygen tank, their only supply of air, had been near completely demolished in the tank. At such high altitudes, they would soon lose consciousness if they did not lower into the atmosphere. Swooping down, the smoking aircraft was followed by enemy fighters, bullets running through the metal to allow rivers of red light to pour into the mechanical beast. Now only around ten members of the original thirty individuals were left standing, the pilot, some crew, and the two soldiers, Zack and Cloud. Readying his parachute to jump, Zack was thrown back once more as the plane was struck by an even larger weapon. Anti aircraft weaponry on the ground had locked onto the unit, firing in single shots. Screams of approaching missiles near shattered Cloud's ear drums when he hurriedly released himself from the straps, landing on the floor on his chest as bullets ran through the metal where he had been. Turning his gaze back to the now blood soaked chair, he reached out to the blinding light with trepidation, fingers shaking, reality lost in a blur of screams and pain. Zack grabbed onto his arm and tugged him down, another missile exploding close by them, taking out a fellow allied aircraft which fell hurtling to the depths of the city below.
"Come on, Cloud! Stay with me!" grabbing onto his shoulder with a strong grip, the raven head lieutenant shook him roughly, "come on! I can't lose you too!"
Merely nodding weakly in response, Cloud staggered to his feet, boots sliding across bullet cartridges before clinging onto the opening of the plane. The anti aircraft weaponry below continued to fire at the planes above, monsters swarming allied machinery and taking them down in a mess of bodies and mechanics. The once peaceful morning skies no longer held an atmosphere of glistening blues but rather a violent mess of primal reds and royal gold. Lone Wolf began to plummet towards the ground, the remaining crew members grabbing onto whatever they could to balance themselves through the ceaseless jolts. Tying his arm with some wires hanging from above, Zack signalled Cloud to grab onto something, and quick. Falling back into his seat, Cloud strapped himself in, crimson liquid staining his pale fingers in the rush to survive.
"We're crash landing! Brace yourselves!"
Steel colliding with concrete, flesh tearing with each miniscule movement, the sound of the crash deafened Cloud's sixteen year old senses, his eyes blinded by a blaze of light. His straps snapping with the impact, the young teenager flew forward, colliding with the opposite side of the aircraft, bones gritting with the force. He could hear Zack calling out to him to hang on, that they would be ok, the sound of men screaming in splitting agony, the engines spluttering to a halt. Then, he heard no more.