Author Commentary: Almost two years ago I decided to write a very controversial FF8 fanfic in 's Fanfic forum. I didn't expect the kind of response the story got, especially one that suggested I should write a sequel story since it was too big to pass up.

Yeah, it was too big, and writing a simple sequel to that story would be an injustice. Everyone who's read and understood The Remembrance (posted in ) knows what I'm talking about. So together with the idea of a trilogy starting with my first FF8, The Fourth Universe, I have collaborated with three of my most trusted friends and colleagues in FFO, Astarte and brightangel, to come up with a major, major FF8 fanfic evolving from that single story. And... this is it. This fanfic had been on the planning board for close to two years now and I just thought it's high time for us to finally unveil what I arrogantly believe as the most kickass FF8 story ever written. It will literally kick everyone's butt, at least. That much I can assure.

Just a little note: some of the premises in the story have been pre-established in previous stories I've written. For example, Chapter 1 contains a reference that won't be understood much unless you've already read Queen of Souls. There will be other such pre-established premises throughout the fic and we will mark them all appropriately.

So sit back and relax as the final fate of the fable Fated Children unfold in this highly gripping drama...

Prologue 1

A day could never have been as perfect as this. And a short glance at the rising sun said it all for anyone who cherished the pristine serenity of a blessed, new morning. The air, sated with the fresh aroma of the early dew, moved gently with the mood of a legion of harp-bearing angels. Downside, a cricket lifted his head to the welcome blue, littered with the yellow and white specks of friendly Balamb seagulls. A Glacial eye hovered by, looked at the diminutive creature, and then floated off, ignoring the predatory instinct of pouncing on its staple. It seemed the beauty of the bright new day had caught the beast in a magnanimous feeling of benevolence.

The crisp stillness was disturbed by rapid footsteps. Scampering footsteps. Pulling her long skirt up to keep it from being drenched by the morning moisture, Rinoa continued to run with no apparent direction. Her eyes flashed frantically, anxiously alert and darting about like a beleaguered soul searching urgently for answers.

"Where could she be?" She muttered worriedly, her apprehension coming to a peak as her search had stretched for well over an hour. "I turn my eyes for one minute and she's gone."

A gust of placid wind hummed, bathing her well with its chilly touch. Gradually, the rapid thud of footsteps over the grassy ground slowed, and eventually faded. Having ceased her aimless scamper, Rinoa tried to cover her body with both arms to keep the biting wind chill in check. But it wasn't the cold that made her stop running.

I know where I can find her.

She grew weary at the thought. Rinoa knew where to look, but she wished just the same that she didn't have to do this. That she didn't have to go there.

Prologue 2

A balding middle-aged man sighed while wiping off the dust accumulating along the elegant furniture amongst a dainty collection that had passed down along his family's line for generations. He would have asked his son to do this chore had the boy been around. But he wasn't, same as the other members of the household.

The man exhaled another exasperated groan. Being alone in a big house wasn't all that was cut out to be, he realized, especially after all that excitement they had gone through for undergoing the renovations. It had only been two days since his wife and kids left for their annual vacation with his in-laws. He would have wanted to join his family if not for some pressing domestic concerns that required his attention. And that was probably why he never noticed the otherwise arduous ascent along the refurbished stairway en route to his bedroom. Unwittingly, he turned the gold-brass knob of the stately, mahogany-constructed door.

"Huh?" he wondered as darkness welcomed his entry to the chamber. "I don't remember turning off the lights," the man said, unwittingly sniffing in a whiff of stale air. The fresh scent he had grown accustomed to during the last few days had mysteriously disappeared. In its place reeked something putrid.

His attention was drawn to the fluttering drapes adorning the big picture window along the east side of the bedroom. Somebody opened the window, the man thought as he quickly groped for the light switch.

A low, growling sound aggravated his alarmed state.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

The pounding in his chest intensified when the incognito presence didn't respond, continuing instead to bellow low-pitched moans.

"Whoever you are, d-don't mess with me. I have a gun!" He didn't. Someone of his renown would have been discredited in a flash if he did. But the man was now frightened, that last threat shot out in an effort to feign a brave front. He turned abruptly when the moans were followed by a blood-curdling voice.

"I… WANT… YOUR… LIFE. GIVE ME YOUR LIFE."

"The hell…!" He frantically scampered for the door, but failed to reach it when a searing sensation suddenly took hold of his head. "Arghhh… what are you doing…?" his guttural voice echoed in unison with the throbbing pain engulfing his whole being.

Realizing that the intruder intended to murder him, the terror-stricken man hollered desperately for mercy. "N-no… please don't kill me… pl… ease….!"

He didn't even hear the last utterance of his mouth when thick, rich blood exploded from his ears. It was quickly followed by the same dark-crimson fluid freely gushing out of his nose, eyes and mouth. Convulsing violently, the doomed man could do nothing but plead for death in the midst of the excruciating pain gripping his head.

A plea that was granted soon enough, as darkness devoured the remaining life essence in his husk, followed by a soft thud when the man's lifeless body fell limply on the carpeted floor.

Final Fantasy VIII

UNFOLDING FATES

A story by

Astarte, Brightangel, and Soul Hunter

Part I

Chapter I

He knew it was only a matter of time before the bell ushering in the first period rang. Arturo Hagel fidgeted with his guitar as he had done many times over, a perennial habit that made him a recognizable fixture within Balamb Garden's esteemed halls. As he did, he looked around and tried to absorb the atmosphere permeating through the din of mixed laughter and excited squeals emanating from returning students thrilled to discover that they were assigned in the same class as their friends, and new ones trying to blow off the nervousness that usually came with the first day in a new school. This wasn't the first school he had gone to in his life. And Arturo easily recognized the festive atmosphere typical to every academic year's opening.

Trying to ignore the chaos, he shoved his way through a group of freshmen mixing it up in front of the electronic display board showing new class and room assignments. Much as he wanted to, he couldn't share the enthusiasm glowing from everyone's face. As he peered into the schedules, he realized that his worst fear for the last two months had come to fruition.

"Damn…" he muttered dejectedly. He was repeating junior year. The native of Balamb town thought it shouldn't affect him in any way. He had always encountered difficulties throughout his years in Balamb Garden, and he knew that one day, things would be too insurmountable for his luck to hold out. That day had finally come two months ago. And though he didn't expect much disappointment in an already prevalent trend in his academic life, this negative development meant one thing that caused him extraneous frustration.

She had moved ahead of him. She had left him behind. She wouldn't be in the same class anymore.

It was all their fault, he insisted. If they didn't assign him to that field exam just before the previous school year closed, he wouldn't have been placed in a situation that forced him into that critical error. He hated that day and the consequences it brought. If he can, he'd try to get back at those self-aggrandizing SeeD instructors who assigned him to that field exam.

But somehow, in the back of his mind, there was this cognizance that felt amiss. The results of his crucial error had been horrendous, so much that it placed Garden itself in a precarious situation so serious, nothing less than the intervention of Esthar's president became required to bail them out of the fire. And yet in spite of this grim tiding, somewhere in his psyche, a silent soul was echoing a sentiment that felt strangely…

… Gratifying…

Despite the unwelcome situation, he felt a smile wanting to break through his lips.

"Hey, hey, HEY! What do you think you're doing?!"

"Five PM, guys. Like we agreed, we get the TV at five," a smirking Selphie shot back at Zell.

"Come on, Sefie," Irvine retorted. "The score's tied and it's down to the last two minutes. At least let us finish the game. You can always see the Jay Lennox rerun tonight."

"Oh puh-lease! How many times does this game go down to the last two minutes?"

"Well, it did go double overtime, Sef," said Rinoa. "Maybe we should cut our boys some slack for a change. Besides, I have a bet going against Instructor Aki that the Highwind Rockets will win."

"Oh, okay, Rinoa. But don't go blaming me if you miss the interview segment with Drake Henshaw…"

"What? Drake Henshaw's guesting?! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EEEEEEE!" Rinoa screamed in the shrillest, most teenybopper voice she could muster. "Oh I've been dying to see that hunk for weeks!" She then turned to the trio of Zell, Irvine and Squall. "Sorry boys, but a deal's a deal."

"How do you put up with this, Squall?" Irvine groaned. Squall just smiled and didn't answer, opting instead to toss the TV remote control to Selphie.

"Have fun, ladies," the SeeD leader said. "Zell, Irvine, let's hit Nida's pad. I heard the guys are getting together for a card marathon."

"No thanks, Squall," Zell returned. "I don't feel like losing a whole month's pay to you and Tom." Popping sounds reverberated when the brash martial artist flexed his fingers. "Why don't we just hit the monster lair instead? I kinda feel like trying out some new moves against a Rexaur."

"Hey, have you heard? They brought in a pack of breeding Hexadragons from Esthar yesterday. Said it's for advanced training," Irvine enthused while smirking. "Advanced training my ass. We've definitely faced worse, haven't we, guys?"

Rinoa turned to him. "Oh don't be such a windbag, Mr. Kinneas. I don't think Headmaster Cid had us in mind when he pushed for it. Granted, not everyone in this Garden had the chance to go up against real out-of-this-world threats like Ultimecia and Vesta. But still, some of them are showing some real spunk out there. Heard about that kid, Rowan? Just the other day he flattened a T-Rexaur in one minute twenty-seven seconds flat. All by himself."

"Uh huh," agreed Squall. "Rowan has been working real hard. I've actually never seen anyone as dedicated…"

The SeeD commander's statement was cut short by a familiar voice emanating from the TV. Zell's eyes rolled in exasperation upon recognizing the face being displayed on the screen. And everyone in the room inadvertently shared his reaction.

"Oh man, you watch that garbage? Turn it off, Sefie."

"Wait…" Selphie objected. "I wanna listen to this guy."

"He's gonna say the same thing he's been saying, Sef," Irvine followed. "That Balamb Garden is evil, corrupt, highly suspect and bent on taking over the world. What else is new?"

But the former Trabian student didn't budge. She continued to train her eyes on the image of Zeilgr Markkon, long-time governor of Winhill. Selphie wondered - the governor didn't use to bask in the limelight as much as he had been doing for the last month, when he suddenly became a prominent public figure with his slew of fiery, propagandist speeches aimed against Balamb Garden. The computer whiz consequently shook her head in reaction to the smear campaign being blatantly promoted by the politician.

"What is this guy's problem? Anybody know why he became this spooked about us all of the sudden?"

"Who knows? Maybe he just doesn't like the fact that Garden doesn't answer to any single national government," Xu hypothesized as she entered the recreation room. "Politicians are like that."

"Hi, Xu," said Irvine. "What's cooking?"

"Nothing from Galbadia, I'm relieved to say." Xu's retort elicited a frown from him.

"Hey Xu? What do you think about this Markkon dude?"

"Heh, you have to ask?" she answered Zell. "I think we have to find a way to somehow shove his campaign up his fat behind."

"Oooh! Xu talking like a badass mama? I never thought I'd live to see the day…"

"Irvy! Watch your mouth," Selphie blurted out. "My nerves are already irritated enough as it is because of this guy."

"Then why are you still watching this trash?" Zell said. And realizing that she was the one bringing annoyance to herself, Selphie decided to finally click on the Jay Lennox channel, and then promptly turned to join the discussion. While she wasn't looking, a grinning Zell quietly sneaked up behind her to change the channel back to the basketball game, only to groan in disappointment.

"Damn… the Rockets won…"

"You know, guys, I'm really more surprised than anything," Rinoa said. "Zeilgr Markkon used to be known as a benevolent and diplomatic leader. Even my dad respects him a lot because of that."

"Yeah," Irvine concurred. "I even remember Quisty telling me that he's a nice guy."

A sudden hush followed the gunslinger's last remark. An abrupt silence characterized by drooping eyes and melancholic sighs as everyone in the room was reminded of their dear friend and comrade, Quistis Trepe. It had been more than six months since she left Garden for reasons that still provided ample mystery for those who cared enough to want to know why. And in this case, the category just happened to include everyone occupying the recreational room.

But no one was given the satisfaction of a reason, all the more aggravating the profound sadness brought about by the absence of one of the most beloved figures in Balamb Garden. The instructor left in the aftermath of the celebrated case where she was court martialed for the offense of desertion after immobilizing her comrades en route to facing an ancient incubus by herself. And even though the act of reprimand turned into a tribute to her selflessness and bravery, it didn't begin to explain her subsequent decision to resign.

Some had actually considered that she had eloped with the incognito personality who allegedly assisted her in defeating the soul devourer. But as everyone rationalized, that wasn't reason enough for her to leave everything behind. Despite the scores of male students fantasizing to be her beau, everyone shared the ultimate wish for her to find one of her own. If everyone deserved it the most, Quistis did.

And the prospect would have been welcome for nearly everybody in Garden. Considering her stature and reputation, Quistis' lack of a better half was an irony like no one had ever known. If she had indeed found someone to love, someone who would love her in return, that would have been a cause for celebration. It was supposed to be a happy event if it were true.

So why did she opt to retreat and not share it with her friends…?

Add to that the fact that ever since she left, they haven't heard anything from her. Not even a solitary postcard with a 'Hi and hello' message that they hoped would at least let them know that she was doing okay. And though no one was explicitly voicing it out, their gloomy silence was more than enough to express the fact that they missed their cherished friend immensely.

Loopholes upon loopholes, crusted with mysteries and unanswered questions, all pressed into one big cake of intrigue that they had wanted to solve desperately. But wherever she was now, Quistis sure did a great job of covering her tracks. But why cover her tracks in the first place? Why disappear like a bubble as though… as though she actually had something to hide?

"Would've been great if she hadn't left," Selphie sighed. "Graduation's only a couple of months away."

"Yeah…" Rinoa pensively concurred while training a pair of glum eyes toward Squall.

"Let's just stop this, okay?" Zell blurted out. "I don't wanna talk about it. Quisty left without so much as a hint why she had to do it. Whenever I think about it, it pisses me off. I mean, how could she do this to us? We're supposed to be her best friends."

Rinoa looked at Zell, but didn't say anything despite the urge to try and contain his outburst. She knew she shared her comrade's frustration. Needless to say, Rinoa had developed an exceptionally close affinity with the disassociated instructor. Being one who had the penchant to care for the people around her without reservation, the former leader of a Timber resistance group was incredibly awestruck by Quistis' sincerity despite the lack of free-spirited ardor that she shared with her other best friend, Selphie. Rinoa tried to cope with the loss, but knew she hadn't quite gotten over the pain yet. It had always been hard to get over the loss of a best friend.

"Get over it, bud," Irvine retorted. "I'm sure Quisty had her reason. Who knows? Maybe she finally decided to run away with Siegfried. I may be wrong, but I really believe she was hurt after breaking up with him."

"Oh, you are so clueless, Irvy!" Selphie voiced out. "If there's someone that Quisty might have run away with, it had to be that Hunter guy who helped her against the incubus. Didn't you read the case report about that?"

"Wasn't that the guy who beat you senseless, Squall?" Zell followed, his smile spelling a slight ridiculing intent. The SeeD commander simply shrugged his shoulders in an apparent display of indifference.

"Hunter…" Squall softly muttered. "Well, maybe she did. I'm not any happier than you guys with her absence, but I do think it's high time for her to find one of her own."

"YOU should know. Right, Leonhart?"

There was clear evidence of agitation and sarcasm in Xu's remark, aggravated by her referring to him by his last name. And this surprised Squall. He may not have known enough of the SeeD veteran to judge the motives of her actions, but what Xu displayed was an obvious gesture of contempt. And it disturbed him immensely.

"What do you mean by that, Xu?" Squall asked as his eyes locked with Xu's. The hostile eyes the veteran SeeD retaliated with startled him.

But Xu quickly pulled back, realizing that the object of her irritation wasn't exactly public knowledge. "… N-Nothing," she stammered. "Forget I said anything."

"Something I did?"

That tears it, she thought. It was clear she had been aware of things unknown to the others. It was hard enough to keep a secret while at the same time remain impassive to its reverberations. She had been trying to control her temper. But it seemed Squall was actually asking for it.

"Oh, Squall… sometimes you truly are so full of it!" Xu angrily snapped before walking out of the room. Everyone was dumbfounded by her antagonistic behavior.

"Hey Squall, what did you do?" Zell curiously asked.

Squall didn't answer. Atypical for someone who'd made a career out of being indifferent to other people, for some reason Xu's surprising behavior bothered him. He'd pay a million gil to know why, if he can.

She had been wondering for days now about his unusual silence. It wasn't like him at all, given his renowned merry attitude and warmth towards people. Something was definitely amiss, the unassuming young lady surmised. And now, Ellone intended to know what was going on with Laguna.

Her being objected vehemently, yet she continued to eavesdrop through the slightly open door while the Esthar sovereign argued with someone on the video communicator device. Someone who seemed to hold a prominent position of authority, currently displaying a rare aptitude of triggering the ire of the usually cool-headed president of Esthar. Ellone's eyes widened when she heard him utter a now quite infamous name.

"Markkon, you have some nerve trying to tell me how to run my country."

"Nerve? This isn't about nerve, Loire. You boast of your sovereignty in leading the most powerful nation in the world. And yet, so far all you're being proficient at is babysitting a bunch of overrated, juvenile spoiled brats." Markkon lashed out, clearly referring to Balamb Garden's SeeDs.

"So what if I am in support of SeeDs? They're a very admirable group of people, and damn good at what they do. Besides, I don't remember the last time I gave you permission to criticize my policies." Laguna irately retorted.

Markkon grinned wickedly. "Criticize? Oh no, I'm not trying to criticize you, Loire. Can't you see? I'm shooting you down outright. You and your incorrigibly senile administration. And I intend to see you shamefully relieved of you pathetic office."

Laguna crossed his arms defiantly. "You can try."

The Winhill sovereign returned with an evil stare.

"You won't be feeling smug in your perch once you realize the support I've been rallying against you, Loire. Just wait and see!" was Markkon's last remark before the comm screen went blank.

Laguna sighed anxiously. Much as he wanted to maintain a confident front, he can't deny the fact that he was worried about Zeilgr Markkon's threats. Already, some sectors in Esthar's society had begun to question him about the edict that secured Esthar's continuous financial support for Balamb Garden. It was now public knowledge that the benevolent president of the most powerful nation in the world was also father to the supreme commander of Garden's SeeD mercenary corps. And among others, this fact had been successfully used by the scheming Winhill governor to rally the propaganda against both the world's only independent military academy and Esthar's ruling government. Even here, the image of a world leader using public funds for personal or family reasons was bitterly frowned upon. And though it wasn't Laguna's real intention by any stretch of the imagination, the fact remained that Squall was his son. And such a situation could and had been easily exploited by Markkon in rallying popular sympathy for his cause of bringing reproach to Esthar's seat of power.

Still, that particular sentiment of the populace was not as ferocious compared to the tumultuous public uproar raging right now across Galbadia for the same reason. Unlike Esthar, Galbadia didn't exactly have a general appreciation of SeeDs after the latter had repeatedly opposed the late President Vinzer Deling in his quest for world domination. Laguna thought about the public unrest and how it must have been putting undue pressure to his friend, General Richard Caraway. He once again thought of taking a more active role in helping the Galbadian president, but he had to prioritize his own constituency first.

"What a pain…" he groaned. His perturbation was aggravated the more while recalling how he used to see Markkon as a competent and reliable political ally.

It didn't start to say that the international situation was that grim as to require him to solicit the pledges of affiliate men in position. But Laguna had always believed in being ready, just in case the former war-obsessed Galbadia somehow lost the levelheaded leadership of General Caraway and in the process, plunge the planet in another turbulent era.

Yet now, one whom he considered a dependable collaborator was beginning to act like his own worst enemy. And Laguna can't understand what brought about this most unwelcome development. He was still locked in grim thoughts when faint clicking sounds emanated from behind him. Laguna smiled to the sight of Ellone's gentle visage.

"I got in twouble," he playfully blurted out. Ellone broke into stifled chuckles.

"Who were you talking to?" she asked, pretending to be unaware of the proceedings that had just transpired.

"Oh, no one important." Laguna answered. "Just some nutcase who's got a real problem with Garden."

"Garden? Why would anyone have a problem with them? And wasn't that Winhill's governor you were talking to?"

"Yep…" was Laguna's curt reply.

Ellone's face turned serious. "Strange… I thought he was our ally."

"Not anymore, obviously," was Laguna's soft reply. "His wife and kids were among those who were injured during that terrorist incident in Deling City two months ago. And he blames Balamb Garden for sending in inexperienced SeeD candidates to execute the rescue operation. I guess the last straw was when his family ultimately died in the hospital due to the injuries."

"Oh…" she muttered. "Poor man…"

"Yeah, I know. And now… as a result of this tragedy, he's become hell-bent in instigating this black propaganda against SeeDs. And as their primary benefactor, I'm also receiving a fair share of the smear campaign."

"But that wasn't anyone's fault, was it?" Ellone said. "At least not Garden's. I know that they often use situations like this for their SeeD exams but the candidates were always assisted by full-fledged SeeDs. I think what happened there really couldn't be averted no matter who handled the situation."

"Tell that to Markkon. Frankly, I'm surprised that he's got this kind of vindictiveness inside him. Everyone used to think of him as a nice guy. You know…"

"… Like you?"

Laguna smiled at Ellone's attempt at flattery. "No, silly! I'm a lot nicer. You should know that by now."

"I just knew you'd say that!" Ellone lunged at Laguna to stab a pinch on his side. He frantically struggled to fend off her fingers, and in the process they consequently became as two kids playfully scampering around the room as though they didn't have any semblance of care for the world.

"Hey! Come on, Elle! That's enough! YAAAAAHHH!"

"HA HA HA! You've always been putty when I do this!"

The cacophony of yelps and laughter stretched for a few minutes as passersby wondered what could be happening inside the President's office. Finally, the exhausted pair settled by the edge of the communications console, both panting hard while laughing at the comic situation they had just gone through.

Laguna was still breathing hard and snickering uncontrollably that he didn't notice Ellone growing suddenly quiet, while staring straight into his sweaty face. When his hand accidentally landed on hers, Laguna was startled to feel her fingers intertwining with his own. He looked back, and saw the unusual expression on her gentle face.

"…Ellone…?"

"Laguna…"

He was dumbfounded, and didn't know whether to stare back into her eyes or look down to avoid her discomforting gaze. Laguna's sight inadvertently focused on Ellone's lips. So light and tender, he thought. Unwittingly, he started wondering how would it feel to touch those pale-red lips with his own.

No! Laguna's mind exclaimed as he closed his eyes tight. He couldn't have been harboring such… carnal thoughts for the girl he himself raised. He simply can't. The idea alone was too repulsive. How did he come into such a disgusting mindset in the first place?

Seeing his flustered reaction, Ellone consequently snapped out of her own trance as her adoptive 'uncle' turned his head away abruptly.

"Laguna… what's wrong?"

"Nothing… j-just a sudden headache…" Laguna lied.

Ellone sighed resoundingly, unsure if it was out of relief or frustration. Pulling her hands gently from his grip, the pretty twenty-six-year old damsel subsequently lifted herself off the console and quietly walked out of the room. Laguna, still besieged by the appalling event, stared at the doorway for another couple of seconds. He then shook his head in disbelief.

"My God, what am I thinking?" he lashed at himself before falling into a thoughtful reverie. Another wave of chill ran down his spine. That was the first time in both of their lives that Ellone called his name without the 'uncle'.

Outside the room, Ellone found herself leaning against the wall, biting her lips hard.

End of Chapter 1