"Luh What?"
"L'Cie. You're a l'Cie, a chosen of the Cocoon fal'Cie. You should be proud. There has not been a Cocoon l'Cie in centuries."
The Colonel had arrived with a squad of soldiers in some kind of gunship shortly after Cloud had finally found the exit from the subterranean complex inside which he'd been lost earlier. Stepping outside from the dark underground bunker only to find that he was still inside what appeared to be a hollow planet had been quite a shock.
He'd briefly considered refusing to come along – squads of soldiers trying to take you to an unknown location were bad news in his experience – but he really needed some information, and it didn't appear that there was a settlement nearby. So when the woman who was obviously in charge had promised him an explanation he had agreed to accompany them. Now he was inside some military base in a futuristic floating city that would have impressed even the designers of Midgar itself. Apparently the place was called Eden, and was the capital of this strange inside out planet.
Lieutenant Colonel Jhil Nabaat, as she had introduced herself, had long pale blond hair, bright green eyes, the symmetrical features of a classical beauty, and an easy smile that nevertheless seemed slightly artificial somehow.
"A l'Cie, as you should know, is a human being who receives the brand of the fal'Cie as well as, according to the legends, incredible magical power, in exchange for accomplishing a specific task. Are you sure you don't remember anything?"
"No. Just my name, and not much else."
Amnesia was a really clichéd excuse for why he didn't know anything about this place, but hey: If it's stupid, but works...
"That's very unfortunate." Nabaat said. "I had hoped you might know something that would help us figure out your focus. Did you not have a vision or something similar when you became a l'Cie? According to all the legends, that is how it usually works."
"I might have seen... something. But I can't make sense of it." That was no lie. The images Cloud had seen while the brand etched itself onto his back were confused and incoherent. Just about all he'd been able to discern was an odd vaguely cross-shaped... building? Sculpture? Cloud really wasn't sure what it was supposed to be.
"I see. Very well. I have prepared a summary of all we know about the l'Cie for you. Feel free to read it, or use the computer to look up anything else that might interest you. I need to give my report to Primarch Dysley now, but I'm sure we will be able to talk more tomorrow. Have a pleasant evening, Mr. Strife."
A pleasant evening, she said. What a joke. As Cloud read through the information on just what it meant to be a l'Cie, and what fate was waiting for l'Cie who didn't fulfill their focus, his evening quickly became anything but pleasant. He kept reading until late into the night, first about the l'Cie, then about the fal'Cie, then about Cocoon in general and anything else that caught his eye. He guessed this world as a whole wasn't in too bad a condition, even if the constant rehearsals in books, news reports and encyclopedia articles about how Gran Pulse was the enemy of Cocoon and the source of all evil in general were ever so slightly disturbing. It was a pity that his own situation didn't reflect this state of affairs. No, his life had sucked before, and there was every indication that it was going to suck even more in the future.
Why in the world had the planet wanted to send him here? Did the universe really hate him this much?
It was the second day, and in a place not so far away anymore, a young man finally met his beloved's dear sister. She hated him from the very first second.
"Nothing then?" the Primarch's severe voice practically radiated gravitas as he spoke.
"No, your Eminence. He keeps claiming that he does not remember anything. So far we have found nothing to imply that he is lying. His identity also remains unknown. We have not found him in any of our records and no one from the vicinity of Gelbrata base has gone missing recently. We know nothing about him at all, except for his name." Nabaat was getting visibly frustrated. A nobody like that, and she couldn't figure him out? It was preposterous.
"Cloud Strife. If that is indeed his real name."
"Yes, your Eminence. Your Eminence, if I might suggest, there are many ways to put pressure on a subject without inflicting physical damage. If I were allowed to..."
"Not yet, Jihl. Not yet. As long as he makes no attempts to leave the base, you will stay polite and give him every possible reason to cooperate. Continue to attempt to discern his focus. Continue to gain his trust. And if you discover anything, anything at all, inform me immediately. You are dismissed."
"Of course, you're Eminence." Lieutenant Colonel Jihl Nabaat bowed deeply, and then severed the video link.
She was a useful tool, Barthandelus reflected. Useful enough to put up with her disgusting habit of inflicting psychological torture on others of her kind for her own perverse pleasure. Not that Barthandelus cared, but it still was... unsanitary.
Humans. Never had there been a more undeserving creature to hold the Maker's favor. He couldn't wait to finally be able to shed this disgustingly fleshy disguise.
Cloud Strife was a possible stumbling block in his plans, but only a minor one. At the current moment, the risks of trying to deal with him for good and possibly raising inconvenient questions in the minds of the more intelligent members of the military clearly outweighed the risks of simply letting him be. As long as the boy didn't know his focus, he was no danger. He would simply remain in Eden until he either succumbed to despair and became a Cie'th or until the great plan would be completed, whichever came first.
Probably the later, Barthandelus admitted to himself. As limited as humans might be, they were strong in their own way. It had taken centuries of social engineering and cultural manipulation until the idea that the fate of a l'Cie was truly inevitable had been sufficiently anchored in the human collective subconscious. Before that, the vast majority of l'Cie had always, always rebelled against their fate eventually, and far too many had succeeded. It had taken yet centuries more to deal with those individuals and erase all memory of their existence from history.
But none of that mattered right now. Strife was safely locked away in the heart of Eden, surrounded by thousands of troops to guard him, and he didn't even realize that he was a prisoner in all but name.
What could possibly go wrong? Jihl was his pet down to the very core of her being, groomed nearly from infancy to be utterly loyal to him. She would follow his orders to the letter, and Strife would never suspect a thing.
Cloud felt like wrecking a wall or two out of sheer frustration. He couldn't walk two meters without guards falling into step besides him. These people were treating him like a prison inmate, and they didn't even have the decency to admit it!
He carefully kept his expression even and pretended not to notice, just as he had for the last four days. Nabaat might think herself subtle, but it was clear that the woman was the one ultimately responsible. She was clearly trying to make him as uncomfortable as possible without having to openly drop her act as a diligent hostess just doing her best to be helpful.
Someone less experienced with this kind of thing might not have noticed what she was doing, but Cloud was not most people. This was exactly the kind of shit the Turks might have attempted back home – before he'd wiped most of them out, that was.
Sadly, that was not an option here. Nevertheless, he was still angry at himself for not seeing through the Lieutenant Colonel's pleasant facade sooner. The woman clearly enjoyed tormenting others.
At least he'd finally managed to arm himself, claiming a simple but sturdy two-handed broadsword from the armory. It was a rather flimsy thing by his standards, but it would do for now. He'd been denied any more advanced equipment, his constant shadows in the PSICOM uniforms citing "regulations" as the reason.
Still, when he'd picked up the old blade that just happened to be the largest weapon available in the armory from among all the high-tech transforming gunblades, submachine guns and assault rifles, no one had protested. The old thing probably hadn't seen use in a century anyway, and after all, what damage could one man do armed with nothing but an ordinary sword?
Keeping the sword out of his hands had apparently not been judged important enough to endanger the illusion that he was a honored guest. Poor clueless idiots.
He'd also made some progress in understanding the magical abilities his being a l'Cie supposedly blessed him with. As far as he'd been able to figure out, the brand did not actually grant him any magic that wasn't already intrinsic to his own being before, however it did act as a catalyst for his personal magical reserves. He could now manipulate his magical energy entirely without Materia use, and in ways that would not even have occurred to him before.
Theoretically, he should even be capable of evoking effects that no particular Materia existed for. Now add into the equation the sheer amount of magical force he had at his disposal, thanks to inhuman mako levels and years of constant high intensity magic use, and... well, he found that he was actually looking forward to experimenting. It should be interesting.
But for now, his days were filled with reading his way through Eden's computer network and various encyclopedia, as well as repressing the apparent fact that he was currently living on borrowed time. He still had only the smallest of hints at what his focus might be, nothing but the brief vision of that strange cross-shaped sculpture. But if he were to just browse through enough information, surely sooner or later he would find some piece of trivia that would lead him to his goal. Or at least he hoped so.
He was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts, he barely noticed the little child accompanying Jihl Nabaat before the boy spoke.
"But I don't want to do another test! I want my daddy!"
The Lieutenant Colonel gave one of her insincere chuckles that Cloud had come to loathe the sound of during the last few days and responded. "Just a little patience, Dajh. You will see your daddy again soon. I've already sent someone to get him."
What was a child doing here? The boy grumbled a bit about not getting to see his daddy immediately, but then feel silent. But before Nabaat could say anything more, the boy's eyes met Cloud's.
"Huh? Who're you?" he asked with eyes that looked so innocent it was downright uncanny.
"Cloud." He answered. He'd never been very good at small talk.
"Have you seen my daddy? He's about this big..." the boy indicated an adult's size with his small hands, "and he has hair just like mine." What was a child doing here?
"Sorry kid. I haven't seen him."
The boy looked disappointed, and was quickly led away by Lieutenant Colonel Nabaat. "Pardon us, Mr. Strife." she told him as they turned to leave. "I'm sure Dajh here didn't mean to disturb you. I was just showing him to his new home here in Eden. Can you imagine, little Dajh here is a Cocoon l'Cie, just like you! Nothing but legends for centuries, and now we find two genuine l'Cie in as many weeks. Amazing."
The kid... was a l'Cie?
A little boy like that? How old was he, five, six, maybe seven? How could a child like him possibly be expected to fulfill some crucial and dangerous task as his focus at this age? It was bad enough that he had to live with this constant threat hanging over his life, but to inflict that on a little child...
It was just too cruel.
It was the seventh day, and on this day another unfortunate soul would finally confess to her lover that she had been branded with the mark of a l'Cie. But hers was a different shape from the ones that could be found on Cloud's and Dajh's skin.