Notes: A what-if that came to me awhile back. Enjoy.
Control and Restrain
Ultimecia was late, unsuitable for the current position she held.
The Emperor was surely waiting; although, what else can he do when he was powerless and stripped from entertainment? Left with basically nothing, he forced himself to take pleasure in building a house of sticks. For that was what he was doing at the moment when she entered the dimmed room, the only source of light coming from a rocking bulb above him.
She took a quick observation of the room.
A single bed lay in the corner, with white sheets stained in yellow. At the side, the bathroom rested, obscured in the dark with no door attached. It too must appear unclean like the room in general. The only clean and elegant piece she noticed was the chest near the foot of the bed, containing all his clothing.
In the center, a table rested, where the Emperor sat on a chair, bored.
With a flick of his finger, he toppled his house of sticks, sending each piece to fall messily on the table. All of his hard work was gone in seconds. In a matter of minutes, however, he'll build another one, she presumed.
At least, to her observant eye, he appeared clean with a white, sleeveless tunic, dark-colored pants and boots. She knew he despised uncleanliness. It almost seemed as if living in a filthy room was the perfect punishment for his troublesome behavior.
But even a clean freak, such as him, managed to abide to the filthiness around him. The state of the room no longer bothered him as it did since the first week he came here.
When was that exactly? The third of February?
It was now October. Six months seemed suitable to learn from a mistake—if the Emperor found his stubbornness a problem. By the look in his eye, she knew that he hardly improved since he first arrived in this room.
"Mateus."
He frowned at the first-name basis.
"How long have you been sitting there?" she mocked.
He tucked his hands under his chin, silent for a moment.
"Enough for me to ponder…" he drawled.
"On?"
He merely smiled.
"Allow me to show you."
The light began to dim and rang with a hiss as it flared with life.
Ultimecia crossed her arms, not amused by his predictable behavior.
The bulb above him sparked and showered his beguiling features with small beads of light. She felt his ounce of power creeping along the floor, aiming to attack her from behind. But Ultimecia was aware of his intentions.
She played this game countless times before with him. And in each game he never won.
How unfortunate.
She really had hoped that he had improved his behavior—figuratively speaking of course. Having him locked in a room, powerless and with nothing to do boosted her dominance over him. Unfortunately, the games they shared had to come to an end.
Ultimecia had other important matters to attend.
"Time," she said.
The bulb stopped from flickering.
She glanced behind her shoulder—and witnessed a charge of electricity aiming toward her. Sighing, she snapped her fingers and the attack disappeared as time resumed on.
The light above him began to rock gently.
The Emperor became displeased with the results.
"Pity," he said, "but expected. Nonetheless, it answers my question."
She remained silent.
"Do you wish to know what it is?"
"On how to kill me," Ultimecia answered. She gave a short laugh. "Almost everyone here wants me dead."
"It's no surprise. After all, you've become Chaos's lapdog—a traitor!" he barked.
The cobweb of light sparkled underneath her feet. Her hair began to float, dancing through the energy coming from below. It was easily dismissed with a wave of her power.
The inferior man humphed and gathered his Popsicle sticks.
"More time would be added to your punishment." She turned on her black heel. "I wonder, was it worth it, Mateus?"
The Emperor glared at her retreating form—until she disappeared through the door and entered the hallway.
He swore under his breath.
"Yes, indeed it was, time witch."
Alone in the room, he began to build a different fort.
xx
Like the Emperor, Kuja was also displaying a rebellious character.
She found him in the alleyway, mocking five men.
With a quick look around, she found the scenery revolting. Garbage looted the ground. Graffiti marked the brick walls with the words 'Fight against Power' or 'Down with Control'. Some people seem to hate her world—or rather her shared world with Chaos and Garland.
It matter little to her of what the people thought. There was never an opposing side to stand against her anyway. That silly whim of heroism was long gone, such as it should.
An unpleasant smell drifted toward her. She brought a hand to her nose, feeling the lace-glove against her skin. Certainly, the alleyway was the perfect place to describe Kuja—grim, revolting, and an unpleasant. It was a shame she couldn't leave him here.
She stopped and watched as the men attacked Kuja.
It was a short fight, expected from a warrior. Kuja had fought elegantly, floating around, in between, near their sides, and in front of them in surprise and used his magic orbs to engulf them in flames. By the time he finished with his little play, they were far from recognizable.
"Causing trouble, my little canary?"
He flicked his hair behind his shoulder and focused his attention ahead of him.
Ultimecia hardly cared if he set his eyes away from her. All that matter was that he listened.
"My, my, it seems you are begging for a punishment."
"As if your petty threats frighten me, witch," Kuja said.
He glanced toward her direction, if only for a moment.
Ultimecia approached him and glided her fingers across his arm. With a snarl, he brushed off her affection and gave her a menacing glare. It tickled her sides at his pathetic display of terror. As if his cold stare could make her fall to her knees.
Laughable!
Simply laughable!
But as much as she would like to ruffle his pretty little feathers, she had a job to complete. Fortunately for him, she would be out of his sight, earlier than he expected. It did not mean, however, that he was free from his punishment.
"Darkness," Ultimecia called her assistant.
The Cloud of Darkness sprang from the shadows in a whisk of dark and red. As the portal began to fade away, a being, disguised as a woman, appeared, kneeling in front of the time witch.
"Send them to the void."
The Cloud of Darkness glanced at the charred corpses and nodded her head.
Ultimecia turned to Kuja and purposely trailed her fingers across his cheek. Furious, he roughly slapped her hand away and seethed under his breath, "Don't touch me."
She could only laugh. "I never will, not after this day. But, if I may say, you are so easy to anger."
She continued to laugh and headed out of the alley into the streets of the city. The cool air felt fresh against her cheeks. For a moment, she closed her eyes, taking in the silence—until a sharp cry echoed through the afternoon and a manic laugh was heard afterward.
It could only mean one person.
She headed toward the bar nearby and watched as smoke poured out of the chimney and through the broken windows. It seemed the rebellion did not stop at Kuja.
xx
"Golbez, it seems that this one is missing a face."
The man in armor stopped in his tracks and retrieved Kefka from the collar of his shirt.
Hearing her remark, Kefka proudly announced, "I'm not missing a face! I'm simply redecorating!"
He grinned as the blood from his face dirtied his clothes and touched the floor. One thing for certain, Ultimecia was not cleaning up his mess. Rather he clean up and learn his lesson.
She ignored the bloody fool as he scratched the muscle on his face and pulled the rest of his flesh off his forehead.
"Golbez, make sure that his skin heals. His punishment will come later."
"What? I did nothing wrong!" Kefka interrupted.
She glared at him. "I doubt your witnesses will say otherwise." Looking at Golbez, she finished her instructions, "Lock him up in his room if you have to."
Ultimecia turned on her black heel and headed toward the dining room as Golbez dragged Kefka away—of course, the jester complained along the way.
"But its Halloween!" he exclaimed. His excuse did not stop her from changing her mind. He then shouted, "You ruined the fun in everything!"
Ultimecia continued on, ignoring the babbling fool, with a cackle or two erupting from him, into the next room. Her next victim, as she liked to call them (since they felt victimized and complained), was sitting at the end of the long, dining table, sipping wine. He gently rested his glass on the table and resumed eating.
It would've been a normal scenery, with an enchanting chandelier hanging above, each crystalized piece chiming softly; the red rug underneath the table contrasting against the dark wood; and the patterned wallpaper clear of any grossly sight as the candles, encased in a cage and drilled to the wall, remained untouched.
That would've been the perfect scene, if not that she was already accustomed to a different display. For on the ground servants laid, their blood almost blending into the dark wood; and the chandelier remained unused as the candles gave a dim-light glow to the room. But it was enough light to show the streak of blood on the walls.
Ultimecia sighed and turned to the confused maid, breathing heavily, with a kitchen knife in her hand. Her clothing appeared ruined, with a few tears here and there, and a visible line and patterns of blood on her clothing and skin.
She looked at Ultimecia, unsure of what to do—until she dashed toward her, screaming at the top of her lungs. She swiped the knife to a side, aiming carelessly though the air. She was unable to strike properly through her confused state.
But either way Ultimecia took a step back, turning and shifting her body, only for the back of her heel to hit the wall behind her. Taking aim at her head, the maid struck.
Ultimecia ducked and punched her in the gut. A tasteless move, she had to agree, but the woman was not worth using her magic abilities. The maid gasped and hunched forward, knife slipping from her hand. It dropped to the floor along with her unconscious body.
"Your excuse, Sephiroth?"
Sephiroth raised his head, looked at her and silently continued eating his meal. He was not bothered by the bodies on the ground or by the woman who lay unconscious near Ultimecia's feet. After all, why would he be bothered if he was the one who inflicted confusion on the poor woman and killed the rest of the servants?
Ultimecia crossed her arms and closed her eyes for a second. "Typical—if it's not Cloud than others will suffer. This is unacceptable. Chaos would be displeased."
Sephiroth humphed and returned his attention back to her, permanently this time, not a simple glance. "I don't expect otherwise."
She turned away from him and headed toward the door. He knew the consequences so there was no need to remind him. He's been through this countless times before but just like his rebellious comrades he didn't care of losing an inch of his power. It would return to him in the end.
He was a very patient man.
"Clean this up," she said to him.
She reached the door, grasped the handle, only to hear, and eventually see, a knife impaled in the door, a little away from her face. She smirked and turned halfway to say to him, with a light humorous tone, "You missed."
He swirled his glass, the red wine twirling in circles. "I never miss." He glanced to a side, a frown touching his lips. "The puppet has terrible aim."
Ultimecia followed his glance and rested her eyes on the bothersome maid, who was picking up another knife from the table before dashing toward her. Ultimecia turned and muttered under her breath. As the maid came closer, she opened the door and heard a gasp from behind. The maid screamed when the arrows pierced her skin.
By the time Ultimecia shut the door, the clock began to tick again as the body fell with a thud.
xx
When she began to head back to her room it was already nightfall. She wanted to rest or be given a chance to gather her thoughts but Jecht appeared down the hall, obstructing her path to reach her room.
She narrowed her eyes and turned to a side, only to see the fifth member chained to the wall. Exdeath was serving a punishment he committed a month ago. Silent as stone, no one knew if he was awake or not when his helmet covered his features—that was if he had any features underneath. For as long as Ultimecia had known him, she had never seen what lay underneath that armor.
"I hope you ain't feelin' sorry for the sap."
She turned and brushed past him. "I don't feel regret."
She had thought they would go their separate ways instead Jecht followed behind, talking of nonsense.
She stopped and turned to him. "What do you want?"
"That obvious, huh?" He rubbed the back of his head. "Just wonderin' if by any chance I could see him?"
"And jeopardize our world? No." She gave her back to him. "You must not forget, Jecht, you belong to Chaos."
"Yeah, by force," he muttered. "Is there a way I could speak to lord high n' mighty about this?"
"Consult with Garland," she said, as she headed down the hall, took a left and made her way to the third door to her right. Nearby, echoing from behind, she heard the clank of armor as it rubbed against each other, heading toward her.
Ultimecia turned her head and found Garland approaching, his broad sword held tightly in his left hand. He came to a halt and addressed her, his tone of voice deepening behind his helmet.
"The usual four continue to disobey," she reported. "Their punishment?"
"Severe restriction of their magic."
"A wise decision," she agreed.
He threaded into the next topic, his voice laced with urgency. "Lord Chaos requires an inspection."
"Did he detect a change?"
"He is merely concerned." Garland slipped by her. "Report back to me when you finish, time witch."
She stepped back into the hallway and retreated farther away from her room, saying, "Of course."
xx
Chaos.
Garland.
The two people who granted her power, power to control time to her will, not that she already controlled time. It was her ability in the end. But this was different. Past, present, and future were hers to control. So she shaped time into one, where it was basically non-existent; however, death was inevitable. But death did not pertain to her comrades and her but rather the rest of the civilization that resided with them.
It was her perfect world, shared, of course, with two others.
She remembered how it came to happen, her beautiful creation. Chaos had won. Cosmos had died. Her warriors began to fade in balls of light. It would've ended there but a different reaction occurred.
The world that they had come to known had disappeared. And she, along with the others, went into a deep sleep, unable to awaken until years came to past. Then, one day, she awoke, with the sun creating patterns on her skin.
She had looked around, sat up and noticed her comrades asleep nearby. The only ones who were awake were Chaos and Garland. Perhaps, the cycle had continued.
She had asked, "Another war?"
And Chaos had spoken, "No, a chance."
"A chance for what?"
The demon lord had not answered but had descended down the hill, mystified with the new world. The one who had resumed the conversation was Garland.
"Time—do you wish to control past, present and future? You can control it to your will. Chaos will give it to you."
How the demon lord came to own such power was a mystery. Still the offer was tempting.
"Is there a catch?"
Garland had turned to face her. "That and more."
She had crossed her arms, listening.
"We can control this land and live out our lives," he had explained. "However, like every perfect paradise, there is a flaw."
"And what is that?"
The flaw was that killing was out of the question. It was difficult at first, unable to kill anyone (since they were all murders), but eventually she had found a loop. As long as the victim was sinful as she, they would not awaken.
It was easy to spot the other killers, since this world was dumped with a handful of sinners, but then it became difficult to find them when more and more innocent people joined their land. Though, at that time, Ultimecia had already captured her victims and locked them away in a dungeon. Sometimes her comrades liked to "borrow" a few and release the killer in them. But most of the time, her victims remained untouched, when her comrades began to seek a funnier victim.
At times it was hard not being able to kill everyone (especially the disobedient) but Ultimecia had to refrain. Her world had to stay standing unless they awaken.
In a room, hidden from the others, the warriors of Cosmos laid, resting in a crystalized pillar. Each one remained untouched, youthful as if time did not age them, which it didn't, as they slept peacefully unaware of the world around them.
No one knew how this world came to form. No one knew how Chaos was given so much power. No one knew because no one asked. And even if they did ask, there was no answer to give.
Still, from what they know, if they managed to abide to the rules given to them by this world than the warriors of Cosmos would stay asleep.
After all, this was her paradise home, and she was not going to lose it.
The Warrior of Light stood in the middle of the room, encased in his own clear pillar. She stood in front of him, observing. Everything appeared the same until his left hand began to twitch.
She narrowed her eyes and scowled.
Even paradise had its limits.
A/N: This was a What-if' plot that came to me months ago. It was basically what if when Cosmos died, Chaos and his warriors were transported into a different land, where the demon lord can control it to his will. But like every perfect land, there is a flaw, where the flaw is to not kill; otherwise, the warrior of Cosmos will awaken to protect the land.
It was just a story that I decided to expand on and write. There's no continuation, just a simple glance if Chaos was given a chance (along with his warriors) to live without fighting.
Edit: I forgot to mention the Warrior of Chaos can't kill the the Warrior of Cosmos. Cosmos is protecting them, hence, reference to the crystal pillar.