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Chapter One:
Chosen
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He was a child when the visions first came him. He would awake late in the night after horrible dreams, his father would usually be in the doorway in seconds. He alone had the words that that could soothe his young son's fears.
As the boy grew older, he began to have the dreams less frequently, but one haunted him. A recurring nightmare that he saw in his waking world, the images began to constantly flash unbidden in his mind.
In the mind of the young boy, he saw the sun glowing red as it fell to the earth. The red orb hovered over his head, and when it dissolved upon him it was in a flood of water, not fire. The tide raced for him, overtaking the land, swallowing him whole.
The boy who would become Michael Vaughn had never known the power of these dreams. He never suspected that they would one day come true.
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In the deep depths of the mountain, the winds of change were stirring. From amidst crumbling walls where ancient texts lie waiting to tell their truths. The world was stirring.
Vaughn dreamed of the change coming, he could feel it in his blood. The visions, half realized, hovered before his waking eyes. He longed to make the change a good one.
He dreamed of Sydney, odd dreams where he knew her but she had a different face, a different life. Her hair was a different color, her eyes a different shape, her voice softer but she was his chosen one. He was unsure of what in his blood had inherently chosen her, but he knew more every day that she was the one he had been born to find.
That knowledge terrified him as much as it thrilled him. There was too much he did not know about his own life, he had fought the truth as long as he had known. But he could not fight it any longer.
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He rose to consciousness slowly, swimming up once more from beneath the currents of his nightmares. His mind was woozy, as if drugged, the pain that he expected to feel rush upon him with intensity instead crept up on him slowly, halted by something in his blood that calmed his mind.
His eyes opened slowly, blurring in and out of focus until they settled on the white stone of the ceiling. He blinked in confusion, stone? Where the hell was he?
He struggled to sit up but he could not move, from the weight on his body it felt as though he had been restrained. An alarm began to sound deep in Vaughn's mind and he lifted his head with great effort in attempt to survey his surroundings.
It appeared that he was in some sort of medical center, but where, he had no idea. It was not a hospital, and judging from the restraints on his wrists, he was not in friendly hands.
Humming medical equipment surrounded him, a long iv pierced the tender flesh of his wrist, glowing with an odd green substance. He felt a cold wave of fear wash over him as his mind struggled to repiece the circumstances that had led him here.
He had been with Sydney, the warmth of her memory filled him with peace for a moment as her face came into his mind. The way her dark hair had curled softly around her face, the glint of his ring on her finger as she had run her fingers through his hair. The depth of the love he felt for her was the one true thing in his life.
"Have I told you that I love you?" The memory was coming back to him now, the way he had smiled at her softly as she had asked that question...
"Yeah," the softness of his tone was to reassure her that he never doubted that fact. A smirk passed over his face as he looked away from her however and he commented, "But go ahead and tell me again."
"I love you," Sydney reached out to run her fingers through his hair once more and Vaughn let out a long breath. "I love you too," he said.
"I know," she smiled, "Say it again."
Vaughn had looked at her, something dark and unfamiliar passed over his heart like a shadow. He recalled Irina's words to him, the secret that she had spoken of that had haunted him for years. He had never known how to tell her.
"I love you Syd," he looked at her with a suddenly solemn expression. "That's why I need to tell you something... Just so there are no secrets between us."
"Okay...whatever it is I can handle it. Just don't tell me you're a bad guy." She smiled at the lighthearted comment. Vaughn did not respond, his eyes flickered toward her as he contemplated the many bad guys they had encountered that had to do with Rambaldi. A wave of guilt swept through him, he could not bring himself to meet her gaze. His silence sent a chill down her spine. Her fingers halted on the curve of his ear that she had been softly stroking. "You're not a bad guy are you?"
"That depends on who you ask."
Sydney took her hand away, alarm rising up within her. "Vaughn?"
"It's from a long time ago, before we met," he grimaced. "Actually, its the reason we met. It's no accident that I was the one you came to when you walked into the CIA with your story about SD-6." He shuddered inwardly at the memory of the dark events that had sent him into her life. He didn't know how to tell her, why was he telling her now?
"Wait... I don't understand." A dark fear was rising in Sydney's heart, a growing panic took hold of her. "Vaughn, what are you telling me?" The fear in her voice broke his heart, the knowledge of how he was about to break hers killed him. He only hoped that she could forgive him for this lie. Unbidden the words came to his lips, the words he had never wanted to tell her.
"Well for starters, my name isn't Michael Vaughn."
Sydney stared at him in shock, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to breathe. The moment hung suspended in time as Vaughn, the man she had always known as Michael Vaughn, her guardian angel, her best friend, her lover, looked at her with dark eyes. She stared at him with the sudden knowledge that he was a stranger to her and she had never suspected a thing.
His eyes never left her, they were so familiar to her, so beloved, and yet he sat there telling her that he was not who he knew him to be. There was an odd expression on his face, as if he were pleading with her to understand. As if he had been trying to understand the same thing for a long time.
His lips parted as if to speak again, perhaps to explain the mind bending puzzle of his last statement. But he never had a chance. Neither of them saw the other car coming until it was too late.
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Vaughn remembered the scream of metal upon impact. The way the world had exploded in upon him, he had the oddest memory of the other car physically slamming into his body. Pain had exploded in him, but that memory didn't make sense to Vaughn's fuzzy mind. If that had actually occurred, he would be dead at this moment.
His mind turned to Sydney, he remembered turning his body toward the other car, struggling to shield her from the impact. But he had no memory of what had become of her, or how he had ended up in this strange place. Was she here somewhere too? It gave Vaughn a shred of hope to think that Sydney might still be alive, but he still had no idea who had taken him to this place or why.
Taking a deep breath, Vaughn struggled to clear his mind and thick logically, but there was something impeding him. There was a weight in his mind, an unknown path that seemed unable to open before him. As his eyes closed, they lingered on the green liquid in the tube connected to his arm. Before his mind fell into darkness, he struggled to think of what it brought to mind. A name echoed in his consciousness before fading into darkness.
Rambaldi.
They had finally found him.
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The first thing that Sydney became aware of was the pain. It coursed like fire through her body, inflaming her senses. She stilled her movements, the instinct of her training took over her mind, all rational thought melted away beneath that instinct. She struggled to locate the source of the pain, it seemed to radiate all through her body but she knew that there was a central area of her body where it was located. Moving her limbs gingerly, she felt the fire course through her left arm and she gasped aloud at the shock that struck her brain.
Instantly something washed through her bloodstream, calming her inflamed nervous system and soothing her racing mind. Sydney's eyes snapped open, her mind clear and alert, resisting the calming effects of the drug that coursed through her system.
She found herself in a room with white walls, there was no door to be seen, no opening anywhere. Sydney gritted her teeth and took in her surroundings, she too was attached to a complex system of medical equipment, tubes looping around her wrists filled with the same green fluid that had been in Vaughn's. Sydney narrowed her eyes, her mind accepting each detail and struggling to sort through what it meant. She did not like the look of the substance currently being injected into her bloodstream and she wondered if she could remove the IV without setting off an alarm.
She had no memory of what had happened in the crash. The last thing she remembered was Vaughn's eyes looking into hers, dark and serious. A chill swept over her flesh at the memory, his lips were moving in her mind but she could not hear his words.
Looking down at herself, she examined her hands, relieved to see the ring he had given her glinting on her finger. The cool metal against her flesh soothed her as she brought her hands together, fighting against the restraints on her arms. She pulled on them with all of her strength, struggling to break the bonds but she could not.
With a muttered curse, Sydney ceased her struggling. She was growing weak far too quickly, her mind was not clearing as it should be. She could not shake herself of this odd sensation that she was quickly falling down a deep well, silence all around her. She knew not what lay at the bottom.
Her eyes grew dark with the vision, it hovered before her and when she closed her eyes, the sight only grew clearer. She was falling, deep, down into the darkness.
The house of her childhood rose up around her, seeming so much larger than life in her eyes. She was a child again, looking up at her mother, dark and beautiful against the light of the windowpane. Laura was speaking to someone over the phone in a hushed tone. She was not aware of Sydney's presence, so great was her agitation. Sydney could see anxiety written in every line of her mother's body, the way she held herself too stiffly erect, as if struggling to stay standing.
"I understand that William," Laura was saying. Sydney was startled to hear her mother's voice so choked with emotion. A cold fear crept over the young Sydney Bristow and she studied her mother at this moment, struggling to memorize everything about her. It was as if she knew in one terrible moment, that she might never see the woman before her again.
"There is no other way," Laura's voice was clearer now, as if she had reached some vital decision. "He must be protected as much as Sydney."
Sydney felt the fear clutch her heart, ice spreading through her chest as she struggled to breathe. What was her mother talking about? Sydney clutched the leg of the table she had concealed herself beneath and squeezed hard. She could see her knuckles turning white, felt her mind clearing as she focused on the sensation of strength in her veins. She wanted to go to her mother and plead with her that she did not need to be protected. She wanted to protect her mother from whatever was troubling her. She felt the kind of blind devotion to this woman that only a child can feel toward a parent. No harm must come to her, Sydney would not be able to bear it.
Laura shook her head against whatever the man on the other end was saying. "It has all been arranged. The remnants of the Order are scattered but they do not have the power that they desire to achieve without you, without him. Without the final prophet, they have no direction in which to turn."
Sydney stared at her mother with new eyes, the woman before her was slowly becoming unrecognizable. Her mind was working at the puzzle of Laura's words, trying to fit them together and puzzle out the meaning.
"This is hard on both of us, William," Laura was crying now. Sydney could see the reflection of her tears on the glass of the windowpane. "But it is what must be done."
Sydney felt her body stretching, her mind expanding beyond the small form in which it was contained. A bright light swept through her mind and she felt herself traveling up out of her body, out of the memory in the depths of her mind and into the present.
She awoke with a start, her senses coming around, suddenly aware to another presence in the room. She could physically feel the energy of the man, she was certain it was a man. For a moment her heart caught and she opened her eyes to see Vaughn standing before her.
Her vision shifted and blurred, he was going in and out of focus. When her sight cleared, she saw the it was not Vaughn at all, but a man of similar height and coloring, but he was much older. But the resemblance struck her as far too uncanny for her to discard.
"You..." Sydney breathed slowly as she struggled to sit up. He was gazing upon her with an odd expression, one of regret and an odd sense of wonder. She was further confused by his movements as he moved to loosen her wrist restraints.
"I apologize for the discomfort," he spoke in a smooth voice, his accent was hard to place but it was familiar to Sydney all the same.
"Who are you?" The question was the obvious one, the one Sydney feared she knew the answer to already. The man met her gaze, unflinching, and when she saw the green depths of his eyes, she already knew the answer.
"Sydney," the man spoke as if he knew her. "In only a short amount of time, I will most likely become the man you hate most in the world. Even more than Arvin Sloane perhaps," he said this with a sad smile on his face. Sydney felt an immense dread fill her mind, the same that had infused her being before she had fought her sister. The man nodded as if he knew all too well what she was feeling.
"That fear," he whispered to her, picking her thoughts straight from her mind. "That fear you are feeling is prophecy unfolding," he looked at her but his eyes were distant, seeing things in her that she could not. An intense anger rose up in Sydney, burning through the icy fear that clawed at her heart. She could feel the loose grips on her wrist falling away as she worked them beneath his distant gaze. A power was rushing up from within the core of her, filling her with the wild adrenaline needed to push herself out of the bed, tearing her bonds completely free.
Twisting her body around, Sydney grabbed him and immobilized him in one swift movement. Throwing her weight against him, she pinned him to the floor and grit her teeth with the pain that ripped through her own body at the movement. "Who the hell are you?" The question was a cry that was ripped from her as he struggled beneath her grip. The haze of Sydney's mind was gone now, replaced by a clarity, a single minded focus. She spoke the question that she needed to have answered. The question that might reveal the truth of him.
"Where is Vaughn?" The question was asked in a clear and cold voice, indicating that she expected an answer and now. As she had predicted, he ceased his struggling at the name she spoke aloud. His head slumped slightly and he turned his face to her.
"Vaughn..." he spoke not to respond to her, but merely to speak the name aloud, there was a warmth in his voice as he spoke. "He is alive."
"Is he here?" Sydney suddenly wanted nothing more than to see Vaughn, make sure he was okay, and figure out how to get the hell out of this latest trap they had been snared in.
The man tensed under grip, she knew that he was a dangerous man, it was then that she saw the tattoo on his hand. She cursed herself for not seeing it earlier but she was not surprised that her suspicions had been confirmed.
"I can bring you to him, but you have to work with me here. Believe it or not, I don't mean you any harm."
Sydney scoffed at his words and held up the iv with the green fluid inside, it was still attached to her arm, the fluid pulsing into her veins. She ripped it out with a growl of rage, and immediately felt strength drain from her limbs. The shock of the loss of power hit her like a slap to the face and as soon as her grip loosened, the man was free of her. He twisted free of her grasp, turning the tables on her and gripping her wrists. She stared at him in shock.
"What are you doing to me?" Sydney gasped. He looked at her with a coldness in his green eyes and for a moment his face blurred and she saw Vaughn once more. Driving the car, he had that same icy look in his eyes. It chilled her to the bone.
"I am trying to help you, Sydney," he shook his head and released his grip on her. She made no move to attack him again and once he saw that, he stepped back.
"If I were you," he said in a clear voice, indicating he saw no other option for her. "I would put that I. back in. You'll feel much better..." his eyes darkened as he glanced down at the green tube. "And maybe you'll be able to see clearer."
Sydney watched him, eyes dark with suspicion. She sensed that he knew her anger, her malice toward him but it did not seem to disturb him in the slightest way. The cold and precise casualness with which he treated her was bizarre, as if he knew all about her but truly knew nothing of her nature. He looked upon her the way a holy man would look upon a sacred relic, treating her gently and with an odd reverence, an odd fervor burned in his eyes that betrayed the coldness of his stance over her, arms folded. He looked expectant, waiting for her to simply place the IV back into her arm of her own free will, as if he knew she would do it even though she had no such intention. She felt suddenly that in his eyes, she was not Sydney Bristow, but she was something much larger and fantastic, something beyond herself.
"Why have you brought me here?" She asked, she could think of nothing else but to keep him talking, in the attempt to glean some real information from him.
"I brought you here because if I had not done so, you would have died. You and Vaughn both would have died and everything would have been for nothing." He spoke simply and honestly, Sydney could see no sign of a lie but that did not mean she would trust him.
"Well if you're trying to help me, you can let me go." Sydney knew the words would be lost on him. She knew he would not let her go that easily.
"Go?" He actually appeared puzzled. "Go where? Back to your life as a spy? Chasing terrorists around the world in the hope that you might actually change it?" He shook his head, "You cannot change evil, it mutates and is constantly taking new form. It destroys everything that was once good and pure and forces it to become an extension of its own innate darkness."
Sydney stared at him, it seemed that his words had a ring of power to them, as if they were prophecy instead of the ranting of what seemed a man who had gone slightly mad. She forced herself to look at him coldly, refusing to believe in the fervor of truth in his voice.
"Why go back when you can do so much more, Sydney?" He was looking at her with that burning intensity again. "Sydney," he touched her hand and she felt a chill wash over her again at how like Vaughn that movement was in a small way.
"You have no idea the kind of power that lies within you, Sydney." His fingers trembled on her hand as if he was torn between running from her or embracing her. She moved her hand away from him, moved her entire body away from him, willing her legs to move across the room despite the weakness in her limbs.
"What you are a part of now, is something so much bigger than you could have ever imagined. The ancient power that lies in my blood called to you, Sydney. It found you long ago and recognized you as the chosen one."
"Your blood?" Sydney saw the riddles in which he spoke and what chilled her the most was the fact that she saw through these puzzles, she could see the truth behind his words, the truth that she did not want to face.
"My blood," he nodded slowly and those familiar green eyes met hers and she knew his next words before he even spoke them. "Vaughn's blood, filled with an ancient power that even he is not fully aware of yet."
Sydney felt the haze sweeping her mind again as she considered the implications of his words. She longed for a clear head, to puzzle out the lie in his words. Her gaze flickered toward the green IV that was now clear across the room, she would not put it back into her own skin willingly. She would not be a part of this.
"You already are a part of this, Sydney." He responded to the thoughts that she had not voiced aloud and she stared at him, unable to believe that he had just read her mind.
"This ancient power you're speaking of," Sydney's gaze fell to the dark mark on his hand, she knew what it meant. She had to force the words from her, unwilling to voice aloud the truth that they both knew.
"Rambaldi was just a man," she whispered. "A mortal man, a scientist. He contained no great and lasting power aside from the madmen that have chased his inventions around the world."
"Rambaldi," he spoke the name with the same sort of reverence as he spoke hers. "Rambaldi is a prophet," his eyes darkened and suddenly Sydney could feel the power emanating from him in waves. The room seemed to grow a bit darker, the bright white stone dimmed to gray. His voice took on a tone of utter command, filling the room, growing louder in her ringing ears.
"There is a prophet born to every generation of Rambaldi, as his bloodline continued to trickle down throughout the years. Hidden away beneath other names and identities, the sons and daughters of Rambaldi continued his work for centuries. Milo was one of these prophets."
Sydney was stung by his words, she clutched her head in her hands and struggled to clear her mind, to no avail. "One?" She gasped, a sudden pain piercing her skull.
The room brightened again suddenly, the darkness that had crowded around William like a thousand shadows, clawing at the light, was gone. He was at her side, touching her elbow gently, almost in a loving, paternal way as he guided her back to the bed. He looked almost ashamed of himself.
"I'm sorry, I did not mean to frighten you." He spoke in that smooth, cultured voice once more. She felt her dizziness subside as he pressed a hand to her head. The pain passed, the heat faded and she found herself staring up at him in complete shock. She had no idea what to think.
"How many have there been?" Sydney asked, his words were still echoing in her brain. "If Rambaldi was not even the first?"
"There have been many, but there will be only one final prophet."
"The final prophet," Her mother's words of so long ago echoed in her ears and suddenly Sydney felt a thousand tiny pieces of her life fall into place. The puzzled snapped together, the picture was complete and it was terrifying.
"You see, Sydney. You are beginning to understand. Everything that has happened in your life, has been foreseen long before you were born. That knowledge is inherent within you, you are only just beginning to understand that it is there."
"No," she whispered. "I cannot believe it."
He shook his head sadly and smiled, it was an odd contrast, as if he was at war with himself. "In truth, it does not matter what you believe. You do not have to believe in fate to be caught up in it."
Sydney stared at him, the confident way he spoke about it belied a complete understanding of the subject of Rambaldi that she had always sought. She knew suddenly that this man might have the answer to many of the questions that had plagued her for years. Why had she been chosen and by who? How many of her decisions had been secretly shaped by others behind the scenes?
"I have these answers, Sydney." He spoke gently and for a moment she was startled, wondering if she had spoken aloud but she knew she had not. It was not possible for him to be able to read her mind, something in her found it unbelievable even after all she had seen.
The darkness of her anger filled her suddenly, she falling into her fighting stance, every muscles tensed and prepared for combat. Rage filled her and with it came a power, more intense than adrenaline, something she could control and focus.
Weariness fell away from her water from oil, sliding off until all that remained was pure energy. How she hated the people who had tried to control her life, the CIA when they had attempted to hold her prisoner based on ancient prophecies no one understood. She herself did not understand them and that only increased her anger.
William became aware suddenly of Sydney's sudden gathering of strength, he could feel it flowing to her in waves. In a single moment, William knew a sudden terror. She was stronger than him in every way, but she was not aware of it. He had not counted on this, she could kill him so easily and he could not stop her if she was truly intent on it.
"If you kill me, Sydney, you are destroying the truth." It was all he could think to say, all he could do to win her over. "You must believe that I am on your side," he was frantic for her to believe him, Sydney could see it.
She watched him warily, studying him the way a predator studies its prey. He shivered under the gaze, beneath the force of her power. He felt a tingle on his mind and with a gasp he realized that she was attempting to touch his mind, know his thoughts. He wondered at how she had uncovered this power so quickly, after the small dose he had given her of the formula.
For a moment, he debated upon whether or not to open his mind to her. In that way he knew he could allow her to know the full story the way he knew it, but it might destroy her, all the history coming alive to her at once in its bloody and fiery truth. She might also destroy him, with the untapped power in her blood she could do it so easily and never know.
"Sydney," he spoke her name gently and for a moment she heard Vaughn's voice. She wondered if he was doing that on purpose, he knew how much it affected her. He knew that she was in love with Vaughn, in love with his son.
"William," she spoke his name suddenly and regarded him calmly. "Let's not play games." Her eyes darkened upon his face and he felt a chill wash over him. She reminded him so much of Irina at that moment that it was uncanny.
"You have two choices, to take me to Vaughn and allow us leave together or to tell me the secrets between the truth and the lies. I want answers and if you will not give them to me, I will find out for myself and I will kill you if you stand in my way."
William looked upon her, secretly marveling at her very presence. She was the Chosen One, he could feel it. Standing within her presence was like standing at a place of worship but at the same time he could see how very human she was. When she truly became aware of her own power, then she would be a sight to behold. It had been his life's work to see that moment come to fruition, along with the final prophecy and its fulfillment. He had always known that he was not the final prophet.
He suddenly became very aware of his son's presence within the building. Vaughn was only a few floors above Sydney's room, his energy sparkled in William's mind with warmth. He could reach out and touch him with his mind if he chose, perhaps he would see the visions that would surely be infusing Vaughn's mind at that moment.
He knew bringing Sydney and Vaughn together at this moment in time was a dangerous combination, each one of them possessed great power but together they were a force that could overwhelm any obstacle. William knew that, he had predicted it, but if they turned on him before they knew the truth, everything could still be lost.
Yet he could see the humanity in Sydney so clearly at that moment, he could see her fear for Vaughn and her love for him and some hidden confusion that she could not seem to figure out. She needed to see him and he had the feeling he could not stop her knocking him out and searching for him on her own.
"All right," he spoke in crisp tones as if he had no doubts at all about his decision. "I will take you to him. He held out his arm to her and she looked at him in slight consternation. Then she felt the strength draining from her as her anger faded and her muscles weakened. Gratefully, she took his arm and held herself upright.
"Thank you," Sydney could not help but murmur softly. Exhaustion was sweeping over her again but she would not let it overwhelm her. She needed to see Vaughn, she needed to understand the truth. Who was he? Who were they both?
"All in due time, Sydney." William murmured a soft response to her unspoken questions and patted her hand like a father touches daughter. "You will understand soon enough."
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