A/N:
I'm back, yet again, with another story! Yes, I know, I'm in the middle of writing five others, but hey, I do update on a regular basis. This story is sort of a companion piece to 'Fourth Time's the Charm', except, it's not… Well, let it be said that you don't have to read Fourth Time to understand this one, but it recommended you at least peruse chapter one. Why? I reference slightly towards it in this chapter.
Anywho, you may notice that in this chapter, I swing through First and Third perspective. Why? I felt like it. Okay? I also have no freakin' clue where this story is going or where it will end up or where it came from, but I hope you all enjoy the journey with me!
Rating (Chapter): PG-13 (implied violence, mild gore, mild language...)
Word Count: 3,096 (short, I know, alas!)
Disclaimer: To quote another writer, "These are not my characters, I'm just abusing them."
Not Again!
By Catsitta
Chapter One: The end of an era
Sand entombed cities are all that remains of a once proud civilization. Empty shells of buildings mark the landscape—concrete, glass and steel collapsed and in ruin, like a field of bones. These manmade corpses were once the peak of technological advancement. Now, all they represent are but shadows in the dark. This world is no longer safe for humans; Gaia herself ravaged the population with her WEAPONS. But some try to make a life in this desert. One of these fools is a WEAPON himself, though I doubt he realizes it. He believes he is the savior and hero of this Plant and the human race She tried to annihilate.
His name is Cloud Strife.
Mine is Sephiroth.
For years, we danced in battle for he was the only one ever to be my equal. Cloud was but an unnamed, faceless trooper when his quest began. I was the General of the ShinRa military, my face and name known around the world, striking terror into every heart. Then I learned the truth…or so I thought.
I admit, believing Jenova to be my mother was quite foolish. As the years progressed, reality was hardly kind and despite realizing that I was no closer her kin than any other mortal, I still followed her. She whispered in my mind promises of grandeur. I was to be a god. This world, Gaia, was on the path to destruction, all I had to do was destroy it and all my dreams could come true.
Cloud, however, stood in my path every step of the way. Every time I grew in strength, so did he, and as did that group of allies he traipsed around with. They thwarted my transcendence, but they were too late to stop the cycle already in motion.
The world was ending.
Despite this, that little hero still preserved. He watched his friends die one by one, and the Planet he fought so hard to save fade into nothingness. All that remains of his victory is miles and miles of sand, like an ocean but more vast and utterly lifeless. I have won. The little hero, my puppet, my clone—he still does not realize that there is nothing left for him to save.
I believe he thinks me dead. How I savor the thought of besting him in battle and sending him into the void of the afterlife. The Lifestream is weak, barely a trickle beneath our feet, and corrupted with Jenova's taint. Yes. After I kill Cloud Strife, my destiny will be fulfilled. Jenova may not be my mother, but her thirst for destruction will at last be sated and her voice silenced.
So come to me, my puppet. I know you can hear me. Just leave it all behind, Cloud. All you want is to find peace in death; I am most willing to grant you that blessing. Let us dance one last time. I have returned to make good on my promise, little hero. You shall die and from the ashes of your defeat, I will rise again.
Yes. I can feel it now. Gaia cannot contain me any longer; Her pain is too great. Her sorrow is my revival—my rebirth. If the Planet itself cannot destroy my essence with her lifeblood, then you, little hero, have no chance. Until you give up and realize that you must die, then I will always remain. Your pathetic struggles are my immortality. Your failure will be my renewal. Only gods live forever Cloud, and you are merely human.
I…I…wait…something…is not…right…
The light…it is too bright. Where… where am I?
So bright…so bright…I'm drowning in light. Where is the darkness? I am always reborn in darkness. Shadows and mako, a birth within Gaia's womb. This…this is not…So bright…Can't…can't breathe. Why do I feel so…weak…?
000X000
Sephiroth opened his eyes.
Staring down at him were strangers clad in white coat and masks. A bright surgical light poured over him, illuminating the otherwise darkened room. Groaning, he glanced away from his observers towards the source of his growing pain. His entire left arm was a ruined mass of sinew and flesh, pearly bone gleaming through clotted blood and torn skin. Had this been a new experience to the silver warrior, then he might have found reason to scream. Though, even if he had reason, the breathing machine would have muffled any cries—the unnatural feeling of plastic tubing down his throat threatened to make him gag.
But the pain…it was tolerable, yes, but he could not remember when a flesh wound caused him any true discomfort. A childhood filled with needles, mako and experiments that would kill the average SOLDIER gave him a rather high pain threshold. He suspected certain aspects of the good doctor's treatments also dulled his ability to feel physical discomfort. Though nothing came to mind to explain his current situation. Why did he feel so weak?
Mako poisoning perhaps? Even if that were the case then why was he in some kind of emergency room? He was Sephiroth! People feared him and wanted him dead. Who cared that his arm was a little mucked up, it would heal and then he would go after Cloud, destroying whatever the blond held precious to him at the moment.
"Doctor, he's awake!" One of the masked figures said, its voice female and filled with surprise. Sephiroth grunted. If he were not feeling so weak he would have slaughtered every person in this room by now. Did they not realize they were playing dangerous game? 'They must be scientists.' The silver warrior thought with disdain. 'Those idiots always want to dabble where no mortal should in their attempts to play God.'
A male wearing a green mask rather than white like the others peered over from the clipboard in his hands and let out a snort of disbelief. Wielding a tiny flashlight, the doctor leaned over the table on which Sephiroth lay prone and examined him himself. Upon noticing that the silver-haired male's green eyes were open, though only half-so since that weakness was translating into exhaustion, the doctor began to bark orders to his staff. Nurses fumbled with IV's and other machines at his command, and soon, the doctor returned to his inspection.
Sephiroth wanted to growl and demand an explanation but his words caught in his throat. His vision blurred. That was not normal. Anesthesia did not work on the mako-enhanced! Yet, the world kept dripping into darkness and he struggled to remain conscious.
"Stop fighting, kid, you're safe now. Just rest okay? We'll fix you up." Who said those words was unclear since the voice itself chased him into the blissful state of unconsciousness.
000X000
It is not often that I dream but in the haze of my rebirth, I could not resist the images that washed through the shadows, painting the world with color.
Standing again amongst the barren landscape that I recognized, I watched with disinterest as the wind sent spirals of sands into the air, the effect of such causing the dunes to appear as if they were in motion… Such fanciful imagery to cast this place in—no beauty exists to the mortal eye. Then again, I am not mortal.
Perhaps it is because I am partially a creator of the waste that I find poetry to describe it.
Or, I am merely becoming a touch too dissociated from it all, my mind seeking an anchor among the illusions that bored thoughts create.
Whatever the reason, it is lost when my eyes catch sight of a shape all too familiar.
My puppet. Gaia's precious little tool. He is running from something, it is all too plain upon his face. Ah, little hero, you were never apt at hiding your emotions. All your desires and fears shine through your eyes as brightly as mako glow. So what are you running away from? Death. Yes, that is it. Someone very dear to you has died. But how?
The way you speed along the highway on the monstrous vehicle you actually graced with a name… it tells me that the death struck deep. Did you witness their end? No. The grief is different. You saw their body. It was not murder, was it Cloud? Nor was it illness. I know the way the sorrow reflects in your gaze when you lose someone to the Geostigma.
Suicide. Yes. That is it! Someone precious to you could not take living in this hell any longer and took their own life, didn't they, little hero?
Ah, what irony. You fight so hard to save their lives and yet they die all around you. How many of your so called friends took the life you preserved for them and ruined it, or took it away? You are alone now, little hero. There is no escaping that. So where are you going? There is nothing around but sand for miles. Or is that the point? You have had enough trying to save everyone else, now you seem to vainly hope that there is someone out there to save you from yourself.
Even if this is but a dream, I shall savor the misery that lurks within your eyes. So broken you are. Pathetic. Useless. Why Gaia chose you to be her hero I will never quite know. But what is this? Distracted, Cloud? You are searching for someone who is not there. Your eyes wander from the road over your shoulder as if you half expect someone to be there…chasing you. Sadly, there is no one there to help or harm you.
Wait…is that fear in your eyes, Cloud? You are actually losing control of that motorcycle that you prize so much. No…NO! This is not how it is supposed to end! Get up Cloud! GET UP! Don't tell me that a damn crash is enough to make you falter. True, that was quite an explosion…but still, why are you lying there? It is not possible… After all these years, this is how it ends?
000X000
Pain lanced through Sephiroth's body, ripping him from the dream instantly.
He did not scream. No. But one almost escaped his lips. The agony he felt cut straight into his soul, as if a part of him was dying with Cloud. Only a dream, he assured himself. No matter how real the little hero's death looked, it was all just his imagination. Once he recovered from his injuries and regained is strength, the idiots who nursed him back to health would die and he would seek out the blond for another battle.
Sephiroth sat up, nausea assaulting him the moment he did so. At least the breathing machine was gone.
An unfamiliar voice said something in the background but he was too focused on an alien pain to notice. Movement to his left broke him free of the queasiness-induced distraction, and he snapped and arm out to intercept whoever it was. Only, when he tried, he discovered that said arm felt like lead and attempting lift it only resulted in another bout of nausea. Glancing down, Sephiroth discovered that the limb was bound in bandages from his fingertips to his shoulder, making it impossible to bend it at any point in between.
Which was disturbing.
As one of the strongest men alive, breaking a few measly bandages should be easy. Yet…
Gentle hands settled on his chest and shoulder, urging him to lay back down.
"It's okay, kid. You're in the recovery room. We managed to save your arm, too. You really are quite lucky, you know." That voice…was it the doctor's? "It was touch-and-go for a while there but, hey, how many kids survive an explosion like that and live to tell the tale?" Sephiroth quirked a brow and gave the strange man an incredulous look. What in Gaia's name was he talking about and why did he keep calling him kid?
Said strange man stroked his hair like one might a sick child or pet. Yes. He would definitely have to die. Quickly, Sephiroth scanned the doctor's features and filed his appearance away for later. Dark brown hair, olive-colored eyes, average height and neither overly good looking or unattractive.
"What are blabbering about?" Sephiroth asked coolly, masking his irritation with indifference, an art that he had perfected in his years as a General. "I recall no explosion nor do I understand why you insist on calling me 'kid'. I am not a child and…"
"You don't remember?" How dare the man interrupt!
"Remember what exactly, the explosion that did not happen?" Sephiroth replied with a snort.
"Kid. You… I can't believe it. You have amnesia."
No, he did not have amnesia. The doctor was obviously a clueless nutcase who…
"I guess it's for the best really. If you could recall the events of the past forty-eight hours, it could lead to Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. For an aspiring SOLDIER cadet, that could lead to failing the exams… You really are lucky, kid. The lone survivor of that attack and you can't remember a thing."
SOLDIER cadet? What drugs was this so-called doctor taking for him to not only mistake the powerful, one-winged angel for a child, but to also have delusions that the SOLDIER program was still intact? Truly, nothing was making any sense.
Suddenly, another person spoke from across the room, just out of Sephiroth's line of vision.
"Doctor Fields, you reported that Cadet Valentine's condition is stable?" That voice…it couldn't be!
The doctor turned away from Sephiroth and said,"Yes sir. Do you wish to speak with him General?" Slow, purposeful strides echoed inside the sterile, white confines of the room. It was the sound of heavy boots against tile. The sound of someone very powerful and confident in his abilities. He recognized that stride as his own. But the figure that appeared at the foot of the bed was none other than Cloud Strife. Or, at least, who vaguely appeared to be.
The man whom the doctor referred to as 'General', was not the tiny warrior he knew. This man stood no less than six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. His eyes were Cloud's same color, an almost impossibly intense blue, but the frigid layer of emotionless ice was new. And his hair, while the same bright blonde, lay in an untamed, disorder of spikes that disappeared past his shoulders rather than being short and sticking up in odd angles into the air. Flawless skin that Sephiroth recalled as being tanned from the desert sun was now eggshell white.
To add insult to injury, Cloud wore Sephiroth's uniform! From the black leather duster, to the knee-high boots, to the metal pauldrons and the leather straps that held them in place. By some small favor, it appeared that this 'General' did not carry Masamune on his hip (that would have been enough to snap his temper), rather, he carried an obnoxiously large, Buster-class sword on his back.
Wait…why did he keep thinking of this man as Cloud? Sure, the resemblance was there, but in reality he could not be the same person…could he?
And if, for the briefest of moments, he played along with the whole 'Cloud is the General of ShinRa' thing, then…who was he? Sephiroth glanced away from the two men to look at his uninjured arm. Instead of the sleekly powerful muscles that he was familiar with, there was, well, nothing. It was a normal arm typical of a normal cadet in the early weeks of training. He flexed the limb slightly. Was it possible…he was Cloud? Was his rival now walking in his shoes of influence and power, and he, the once mighty General, was now reduced to nothing more than a faceless, nameless trooper?
"Most surprising that he is awake," the sound of the General's voice broke Sephiroth's concentration. Green eyes flicked to those of blue, and then, he made one more discovery. Cat-like pupils that matched his own…or, last time he checked they did. Deciding that this must be a strange continuation of some kind of mako poisoning induced hallucinations, Sephiroth let out a small chuckle of relief. If this scenario were real, then he was not exactly sure what he would do!
"Do you find something amusing, Cadet?" Cloud's voice was firm and otherwise void of emotion.
Sephiroth stopped his soft laughter,"It is nothing of importance…"—he paused—"…sir."
"Hm. For someone proclaimed dead-on-arrival you are rather…lively." Was the dry response. Apparently the hallucination had Sephiroth's sense of humor, or as many claim, lack thereof.
"Would you rather I bemoan of my injuries? The pain is rather great but I must admit that playing the wounded victim is none too tasteful a routine. I could make an attempt, though my acting, I have been told, is subpar." The silver-haired warrior said—a smile quirking unconsciously onto unwilling lips. Eventually, his façade shifted into one he was slightly more familiar with than actual amusement. A smirk hid his discomfort and annoyance as he continued to wonder when the dream would fade into a mist of green.
The General raised a brow briefly before giving his head a slight shake,"No. But when you recover enough to leave the hospital wing, I will expect you to report to my office for mission debriefing." Then, he turned and began to walk away.
"I'm sorry to disappoint, General sir, but I have no recollection of any mission."
"Pardon?" Cloud looked over his shoulder, a frown knitted onto his features.
Sephiroth tapped the side of his head with his uninjured arm and said,"Amnesia or sorts. Can't recall…in fact…" He, again, paused for a moment,"I could not tell you the names of any of my superior officers, including yourself…apologies, General." Not really, but he was waiting for Cloud's reaction. Did this blond man still have the little hero's strange desire to help everybody?
"I see." Cloud went silent for a time, seeming to appraise Sephiroth with his eyes, almost as if deciding whether or not he was worth his time or energy. Apparently coming to the former conclusion, he added,"Strife. My name and rank is First Class SOLDIER, General Cloud Strife. You will refer to me as General or sir, nothing else. Similar applies to my two Commanders, First Class SOLDIERS Angeal Hewley and Genesis Rhapsodos. Any more information will be supplied at your mission debriefing…Valentine."
As Cloud disappeared from the room, Sephiroth had one last, lingering question.
Why in Gaia's good name was Cloud calling him Valentine?
000X000
A/N:
Alright, did you like the first chappie? Well, suggestions and review are always welcome and appreciated. Also, I think I'll put this out there early on:
Is anyone out there willing to beta this story for me?
I know I make mistakes and such that need to be corrected and having another pair of eyes on a piece makes it easier on everybody.
.
Okay, with that out of the way, here are the answers to a few basic questions I am expecting to get:
Q: What is (are) the paring(s) in this story?
A: Sadly, while the main pairing for the story is SephxCloud, it is a non-romantic one. But, based off what myself and MuffinLordLionsgate have thrown at each other r for ideas, the likely romantic pairings are:
TifaxSephiroth (I know, weird, right?), GenesisxCloud and AerithxZack.
Any other pairings are undecided at this point.
Q: So will Cloud/Aerith/other random people remember Sephiroth?
A: Ah, no. Much like in Fourth Time, people will notice that there is something odd about him, but they won't have any physical memories of him.
Q: How old is Sephiroth at this point?
A: I'd say about sixteen, give or take a year or so.
Q: How did Cloud become General?
A: Being as that is part of the mystery, you will have to wait to find out.
Q: Is this really a dream?
A: No…It's real. Sephykins just thinks he's dreaming.
.
Okay my pretties, do enjoy and please, I thrive off feedback. Don't be shy.