MAN, I had such a blast with this chapter. It was fun to see just how far down the rabbit hole I could take this, and it just turned out to be such a great result. It's...it's quite graphic, so if you have a squeamish stomach, I recommend you just leave me a comment at the bottom and I'll summarize the chapter for you ;) of course, my heart was hurting for poor Hope this chapter, but...the story must continue.
Thank you, Meyneth24! I really, really, really appreciate your reviews, more than you know. Thank you for taking the time to do that :) thanks to all my readers for being so patient with me, and I hope you enjoy!
Summary:
"Can you handle it?" Lightning had asked him in the Gapra Whitewood lifetimes ago.
"It's not a question of can or can't," he told her, words that he clung to desperately now.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Final Fantasy XIII series
? - ?AF
Someone was screaming. They sounded so far away, the sound so muffled that they- or he- might have been underwater. His throat felt dry and raw, and the darkness around him seemed to lull him to sleep.
Another loud crack sounded, and the screaming got louder and louder until the pain pushed all his senses crashing back over him in one overwhelming wave, and he was above the metaphorical water now, gasping and struggling for air. Weakly, Hope opened his eyes wider to the startling sight of his right leg, shortened, bloodied, and broken. It took him a second to register the fact that he was seeing bone; his fibula was snapped cleanly in half and protruded halfway out from his shin. Blood gushed from the gaping wound, tainting the ivory of his bones, dying his skin in a dark red color. It flowed over the dried, brown blood on his ankle and foot. The shock was holding part of the pain back, some small corner of his mind whispered, tried to fight its way through the confusion and the agony. Pain brought clarity, and Hope remembered everything he didn't want to remember.
He didn't know how long he had been there, suspended in the midst of what seemed like a thick smog of Chaos energy, with what looked like a cascade of stars around him. These stars weren't gentle; they didn't twinkle and wink down at him like they did so many lifetimes ago when he was with his mother in Bodhum back on Cocoon. No, these seemed to mock him as he spent an eternity hung in front of an enormous eight-winged figure. On its head was a huge headdress that resembled what he remembered of Orphan on Cocoon, flanked by two wings. Its chest was bare, covered only in what looked like ceremonial armor, the gold twisted around the ceramic muscle. Swaths of rich purple cloth covered it from the waist down, the hemline of it disappearing and melting into the checkered pattern of the Great Chaos. It wielded a double-ended scythe in its left hand, the golden tips coated with blood. The figure's cold eyes and sneering face taunted him, burning a single word into his muddled brain he wished he had never uttered those hundreds of years ago-
This is our Ark, our haven. It will be called…
Bhunivelze.
And it shall be the new home for the human race.
The name that he uttered between his dried, cracked lips were a very different name.
"Vanille…"
The corners of Bhunivelze's lips pulled further up its cheeks, its incredibly sharp teeth pulling at the ceramic flesh in a horrifying grimace as it flicked its fingers at Hope, and then with another sickening crack and a sharp scream that brought blood bubbling from his throat, Hope's right kneecap shattered. He should have learned, he thought to himself. Throughout however long Bhunivelze had him there, every time Hope called out for help, another part of him was broken. Lightning. Fang. Vanille, Sazh. Snow. Serah. Noel. His own mother, Nora. Lightning and Vanille, over and over and over and over again.
He was a scientist, Hope was. He hoped, he had hope always, but he also believed in truths, facts.
Fact: Bhunivelze had deceived him. The horrifying mirage of Lightning, Serah, and Vanille was merely a puppet, luring him straight into the god's clutches.
Fact: Bhunivelze was ruthless. When Hope had first been restrained by the boundless Chaos, the god delved into his mind, tearing and clawing his way through every memory, every emotion, every decision, every thought, every single miniscule scrap of research Hope had conducted over the years, leaving nothing overturned in his head. When it was through, what remained of Hope's brilliant mind felt like a scrambled mess, blood pouring out of it as it laid bare in front of the self-proclaimed deity.
Hope screamed and screamed until it was over. The literal invasion of his mind was more painful than anything he had endured in the hundreds of years he had been alive, more excruciating as his every thought, every intention was defiled and shredded.
After the mind, naturally, came the body.
I will make you…great. Bhunivelze had said though its lips never moved except for the sneer. You will see all, Hope Estheim. You will see everything.
It started with his toes in his right foot. Bhunivelze crooked his finger, and one by one, each tiny bone broke clean in half. The second half of each bone had been taken out, and the god let Hope drown in his pain with each broken bone before healing it, shorter than it would have been. Then, it gathered his skin and stretched it over the newly-healed bone, stitching him together, then ripped the excess away and discarded it into a pile of useless, bloody skin.
As a result, his right foot and leg were shorter than his left, creating a gross disproportion of his broken, mangled body. Hope didn't know how he had so much blood to lose, but it kept coming, a bright red waterfall that ran over the dark brown of its dried predecessors. He tried grasping on to something, anything- Lightning's lessons, Fang's strength, his mother's gentle hugs…Vanille's smiles.
Can you handle it? Lightning had asked him in the Gapra Whitewood lifetimes ago.
It's not a question of can or can't, he told her, words that he clung to desperately now.
She smiled proudly, with a nod of her head. Now you're learning. Keep your eyes front. I'll watch the rear.
His memories blurred, fading into the breathtaking backdrop of the Yaschas Massif that beautiful, sunny day, and a girl with hair the color of the sunsets of Palumpolum- of home.
Do something for me, will you? Keep smiling. I…It makes me happy when you smile.
All of them were fading now, even when he tried with all his strength to hold onto the memory like he did the centuries past.
I…I didn't know you felt that way!
"Vanille," he breathed, and the pain began again.
