For a moment, things seem to stand still. We five hold our respective charges close, and stare, short of breath, at the demon himself. Sephiroth has also cast off his human face, and is a fury of mismatched, malformed wings. Certainly aspects of this nightmare resemble the old form, but at the moment it's clear Sephiroth's rage cannot control itself enough to manifest his face.
And then, of course, all hell breaks loose. We charge Sephiroth, even in spite of his sword, and throw our weight into our shoulders, sending him backward. In a tangle of flailing arms and feathers, we roll across the floor a moment before making our way out the door and instantly wishing we had not.
The Fiends and assorted demons weight beyond, and they fall upon us at once. It is here I lose sight of my company. I can not think now for their safety. I must only think for the well being of myself and this docket. Buffeted by arms, tentacles, claws, and even an odd weapon or two, I am wracked with pain already. Behind me I hear that voice, deep yet soft, roaring amidst hellish shrieks, "Seize them all! Agony to those who fail to bring me a Cid! Pleasure to those who catch one!"
I drop to the floor and crawl amidst the legs of the demons. Enraged as they are, they have become too busy fighting one another to notice a bump by the shin. The Fiends especially are busy fighting. I doubt they enjoy receiving orders from this man when they are Chaos' lieutenants. At last I break free of the throng and get to my feet.
I am but a few paces away when I am seen, and somebody roars, "There's one!" the demons stop, turn as one, and the chase is now on. The walls are beginning to turn into raw meat, but thank the Gods, the floor seems to stay stone for now. Chaos is fighting Cosmos for control of her own home. It's tragic, in a way, that not even her home is safe. Chaos can beat her and beat her and beat her, but she could never have the hope of defeat.
The meatwalls are trying to tell me something. Words in thousands of languages are being displayed, none of them are Angelic, and none of them are the language of my home. I have to focus on that, because frankly, the idea that walls can be made from meat is not one I wish to contemplate just now.
I turn left at a pool. Was this the public pool? It's hard to tell now, the waters are trying to decide if they're made from milk, blood, lava, or liquified eyes. How odd, though, that Kraken and the other Water Fiends should be here already. They were among the number Sephiroth had sent, so how have they moved so quickly?
No time to worry now. If I were Cosmos, where would I be? Have to get this docket to her, and I have to figure out how she gets new ones. She was on the roof, but how do I get there now? I wasn't ever used to the Castle when it was whole, how can I know navigate it as it fluctuates? For now I suppose getting outside is the goal.
The Gates of Cosmos' Palace are before me. They fluctuate between solid and liquid, tangible and intangible, real and not, open and shut. I will have to time my run through them to avoid being speared. I would really not enjoy going through that again. Especially since these bars are likely to force my wings into manifesting for the specific purpose of stabbing them, too. Growing limbs so that they can feel pain is perhaps one of the most agonizing experiences an angel can endure.
Before me is a shadow, and yet it's impossible, isn't it? He was behind me just moments ago! But there he is . . . Sephiroth. He's tidied himself up, I see, for whatever that is worth. I do not know how I will pass him, but pass him I shall.
"Cid . . ." he calls, "have mercy, Cid . . . are we so different, you and I? I just want to make the Gods understand me . . . it isn't my fault, Cid . . . I was born this way . . . What I do, it's only natural. Please, Cid . . . join us. We need your help, Cid . . ."
"You see it, don't you?" asks a voice from behind me, or is it two? There stands Mateus Palamecia, his spirit looking patched together, his very soul scarred. "The Gods' order has gone corrupt. Their songs are a dischord throughout Eternity. We know you loathe them . . . help us change things for the better. We offer you all the desires of your heart. Whatever you want can be yours with the power of the Crystals, oh Cid. Join us."
"See the light," commands a voice from within the wall. The meat parts to allow through a figure clad in shadows, ebon armor concealing an angel in serious need of guidance, "Things should not be as they are. And thus we gather the Crystals for Chaos. Help us lay to rest this eternal war. Help us do as Chaos has been doing for ages."
"No," says a woman, "defy us. Do as all you humes must. Cling to your fleeting light, clutch it, that I might have the pleasure of ripping it from your cold, dead hands. Oh yes, little boy. Here is the secret of the Void, that horrid whisper which mocks and taunts the Gods: As there is life after death, so, too, is their yet another death."
"Make your choice!" declares Ex-Death, sprouting from the floor, "Will you serve Cosmos another day? Will you cling to this precious concept of what is right, knowing it is wrong, only to force this battle ever onward? In your hands it rests, Cid-of-my-home, the power to change everything!"
"RAHRAHRAHRAAAH!! Oh, please. One Cid, two Cid, red Cid, DEAD CID. They're all the same! One is as good as the next. Let's just rip his wings off, huh? We can see how he feels about it then. Don't give the man a choice. Nothing good ever came of free will, now, did it?"
Oh Gods. They brought Kefka with them. We. Are. All. Doomed.
"Surrender the docket," Sephiroth says, "have mercy on us, Cid. We are guilty only of trying to change history. We are gathering the Crystals to end this war forever, to make right that which is wrong. Will you turn your back, knowing you can end that which you so hate?"
"We have taken some of your dockets, Cid. We have seen the theme," says Mateus, "the pattern is always the same: What would this person do if they knew the truth? What would Firion do if he knew that winning this war means nothing permanent, that it changes nothing, that he is being used in a cosmic comedy of the Gods?"
"So we have to ask you," Golbez says, "What will you do, now that you know? You see a road before you where you can stop Cosmos' and Chaos' war. Will you take it? Or is your faith in Cosmos strong enough to keep you fighting for her, even when you know you have been fooled?"
"You might call this a temptation," Kefka adds, putting a hand on my shoulder, his head by my ear. "But really if you're being tempted to do the right thing, is it really a sin? And if it is a sin to be right . . . is there really any incentive to stay sinless?"
No one is coming for me. I must make my own way out of this. But how? I am no warrior, and I never was. All my might lays in my will and mind, and I doubt seriously that I can persuade these people to anything. They are not starved for attention, as Chaos' fiends were, and will not fight against each other in public. Nor are they as easily fooled as the regular demons in this place.
"You have the wrong Cid," I say, "You're gathering Crystals? See here, I have only paper."
"Kill him," The Dark Cloud says, "He is mocking us. Let him see what death-after-death is like."
"SILENCE!" Mateus barks. "Your words are meant to deceive us, Cid. Have you such hatred on poor souls as we? Your papers are made from Crystal, or are as good as it, the weight they bear. Please, show some pity. Look at us. Sephiroth lusts for carnage constantly, he can't turn it off. Kefka longs only for the Godhood that is rightly his. Ex-Death asks only that he be granted peace, be it internal or external. Golbez wants the chance to grow up with his brother; is a normal life so great a sin? Cloud here desires the respect of the Gods, and I?"
Mateus runs a hand along his scarred and patched face. Almost, almost I am willing to believe the tear he sheds. He mists his eyes and looks at me, his voice quavering as though his throat were actually clenching, "I only ask that I be made whole again."
Kefka slaps me on the back and lets forth another one of his laughs. He slinks out in front of me, twisting around, serpentine yet strangely human. "C'mon now, little Cidy, don't be shy. What's so bad about playing with the destinies of all living things? The Gods do it all the time. Don't you want to be like the Gods? Don't you want to build and raise and cultivate so that you can SMASH AND BREAK AND MAIM AND REND AND TEAR AND CHEW AND SPIT AND DESTROY AND KILL KILL KILL!!?"
Sephiroth grabs hold of Kefka's shoulder and pulls him, back, shoving him out of the way. "Shut up . . ." he rasps, "Make your choice, Cid . . . join us . . . or entertain . . ."
"By the ruins of your wings do I cast ye out," calls a voice from beyond the gate, "In the name of the Holy Father do I send ye into darkness once more! Behold the Hallowed Bolt, beware the Lightning Stab!!"
The gate explodes and through it flies a surging bolt of lightning. Upon entering the Palace, the lightning branches, striking each of the foes surrounding me in turn. The demons fall back, retreating into the darkness for cover. Though I do not know who my savior is, I flee toward him anyway. Anyone is better company than those I leave behind.
Once safely beyond, I catch my first sight of the realm surrounding Cosmos' Palace since my arrival. The fields, once lush and verdant, are now trampled and muddy, scorched and churned. The palace walls have crumbled in places, and great ramps have been wedged against them in others. Here and there lay demons and angels alike, all struggling to get back on their feet.
"Horrible, this war," says my savior. I turn at last and see a man I had not expected. The Thunder God, Cidolfas Orlandeau, Seraph, has come to my aide? Should I be impressed or afraid? Somehow, as I gaze at this man, I cannot think of terrible things, reassured by his presence. "My God stands against this as always, I do not come to turn the tide for Cosmos."
"You're Cidolfas Orlandeau!"
"And you, my friend, must be Cid Previa." It's funny, really, hearing him say that name. When my own God said it, I flew into a rage, when my own companions say it I am harsh to them. I have not often allowed the name Cid to be used at all in our counsels for a long time. Yet hearing this man say it, hearing him say it does not bother me.
"If you do not come to aide The Lady, why do you come?"
"You may consider that I have come to aide you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Your words have moved The Highest, and he is now calling a great Council of Cids, summoning all Cids, demon, angel, man-undecided, every Cid throughout eternity, unborn and deceased, all are to report to the Sacred Nebula and attend."
"I cannot leave yet," I say, trying not to seem too surprised by this turn of events. "My companions are within, and I must finish my Ministry to the Lady Cosmos."
"So I was told to expect. I have brought the next series of dockets for you. The Liar sent word of their latest choice to Chaos, and Cosmos was able to notify The Great Hyne just recently. Have you delivered Minerva's champion to Cosmos yet?"
"I have not. I have only just escaped with the decision in my possession."
"Very well then. I bear on my person a letter from Faram, of the Choir of Elohim. As he outranks Cosmos, his authority exceeds her own. You will deliver the champion of Minerva's into my keeping, and I shall deliver it to Cosmos for you."
"How are we going to reach Cosmos? I don't even know where she is."
"Fear not," Cidolfas said, "though the enemy deride. Courage, for we have more upon our side. As you have your companions, so, too, was I given a Council of Cids to challenge this Palace with. We will escort you as far as the Goddess, deliver our message, and then depart."
I will not here dwell on the Cids who joined us. I make mention only of their names: Cidolfas Orlandeau, Cid Highwind, Cid Haze, Cid Secondus, Cid Fabool IX, and Cid Randell. All are dressed in Seraph cloaks, though I know for a fact that some, such as Highwind and Fabool, are assuredly not Seraphs. Each is armed with a shining weapon of his choosing. In this company I am safe, and so I now focus on that work which is mine.
Letter
from The Great Hyne, God spec. engineering, to the Lady Cosmos,
Goddess spec. Order: BEHOLD! I write now to you, oh lady of
the shining curse, in response for your cry to help! Called out you
did, for aide from The Gods, and come to your aide am I! Chaos has
chosen Ultimecia, Sorceress Inheritrix of my might-half, and so to
you do I send three champions to stay her hand. CHOOSE WISELY! Only
one can I lend, and that choice must be the correct one! Stand
firm, Cosmos! ORDER! Order must reign over chaos! Such is the way of
the Gods! We are to steward and preserve, guide and direct! Chaos is
too sloppy, too attached! Show him now that Gods rule, and that our
MIGHT is what makes RIGHT! Strike down the foe! Go! Realize your
dreams! Forever against the WEAK and snivelling!
Name: Rinoa
Caraway
Alias: Rinoa Heartilly
Age: 17
Sex: Female
Species:
Hume (Sorceress)
Rinoa Caraway, more commonly known as Rinoa Heartilly, is the only child of General Caraway and Julia Heartilly. Her relationship with either of her parents is non-existant at best. I am, in fact, somewhat perplexed at the decision to offer this woman up. She hails from the same world as The Chronicler, but he never spoke much concerning her.
During the earlier parts of Ultimecia's attempts on Time, the nation of Galbadia began extending it's power outward, where once it had only been a defense against Esthar. One of the nations toppled by Galbadia during this time was the little realm of Timber. Here Rinoa began to make a name for herself in one sense or another. She joined a rebel faction (of which there were many) and the faction began to make plans for a strike against Galbadia.
This plan, despite being supported with Garden SeeDs, failed miserably. Such, I am given to understand, is par for the course with Rinoa. Few, if any, of her plans ever succeeded, and many times she found herself being used more than fighting against the Users.
The weight of Rinoa's docket seems to revolve around her powers as a Sorceress. Interestingly, Rinoa's Sorceress powers are Ultimecia's, and therefore the two form some kind of twisted paradox. In order for Rinoa to have her powers, Ultimecia must have passed hers on, but in order for Ultimecia to have her powers, Rinoa must have passed hers on.
To that end, the powers may be considered as cancelling one another out, since both women essentially wield the same sword. The question, then, comes down to other concerns. While history turned out well enough for Rinoa, she may yet have concerns with changing the future. If she dies without passing on her Sorceress powers, she does not obtain peace. If she dies and passes her powers on, she allows Ultimecia to exist. If she allows Ultimecia to exist, she preserves history, but also cements the future.
Rinoa would be a maverick, then. She was used easily enough by Ultimecia, yet Ultimecia, unaware of her importance, was only too willing to kill her. But neither of these women can destroy each other, for to do so would be to open the Paradox completely and allow it to rage forth. While Cosmos could squash the Paradox before it got out of hand, the creation of one is a thing I would like to avoid.
Team Work: 8/10. Rinoa works well on teams, having organized civillians to strike against a common foe long before she ever began to associate with SeeD. She does, however, feel the need to mesh with a team, and in this instance she would not. Only the second woman in to be chosen, Rinoa would have little common history with Terra, and would likely only get along well with Luneth, given his general friendliness.
Lethality: 7/10. Rinoa's body, as you may have guessed, is not, or at the least, was not at that time sufficiently prepared to wield the Sorceress' Power, and thus her physical combat prowess is rated low. Likewise, her Sorceress' Power cancels out Ultimecia's, meaning neither one can wield it, since both are wielding it at once. Only against others would Rinoa stand in the echelons of power.
Faith: 4/10. As I have already discussed, it is hard to gauge HOW Rinoa would react to this opportunity, especially if she understood exactly what chance she was being given. As it is, the docket refuses to specify what Rinoa did with her power, whether in her own life she thwarted Ultimecia by not passing her powers on, or whether she preserved past, present, and future at the cost of thousands of lives.
Opposition: 2/10. Rinoa did not fare well in opposing the Sorceress during her own quest. Ultimecia reached inside her and defeated her, gaining control and free use of her body. I am not, I'm afraid, a great fan of people who lost to a villain. It isn't, in my experience, a good sign.
Name:
Ward Zabac
Age: 25
Sex: Male
Species: Hume
. . . What? I . . . What!? This docket makes no sense. It's blank, it's bare, and there are no achievement highlights written within it. There is quite literally one sentence scribbled in here by an angel who must have been in a hurry. I . . . who is this guy, anyway? How am I supposed to glean anything from this?
Ward Zabac fought in Sork War II, was a big guy, knew all the most important people, and died a happy man.
WHAT!? I mean come on! I'm trying to protect the Heavens from the likes of Kefka and the Cloud of Darkness, and who do they give me? "Ward Zabac"!? Who IS this guy?? I don't, I mean, what am I supposed to, WHAT IS SORK WAR TWO!?
Team Work: 10/10. Hey, Ward knew ALL THE MOST IMPORTANT PEOPLE.
Lethality: 10/10. Why? BECAUSE HE WAS A BIG GUY.
Faith: 10/10. HE DIED A HAPPY MAN. HAPPY PEOPLE DO ANYTHING.
Opposition: 10/10. He fought in Sork War II, people. Doesn't get any more opposite of Ultimecia than that, since she did not fight in Sork War II.
This entire docket is a farce! It's like Hyne wanted to make sure I only picked his candidate. Hopefully this last one is more impressive than "Ward Zabac, insert life here."
Name: Squall
Loire
Alias: Squall Leonheart
Age: 17
Sex: Male
Species:
Hume
This is the way I like things. A nice, thick docket full of all manner of random bits of information about a person's life. According to this, Squall Leonheart, born Squall Loire, was raised in an orphanage belonging to . . . The Chronicler and Sorceress Edea? How . . . unexpected. In fact, the docket goes on to say that, after the orphanage closed, Squall was taken by The Chronicler to dwell at Balamb Garden.
At Garden Squall grew from a child into a young man. His heart hardened as time went on though, for grievences perceived and forgotten. The man could not remember what plagued him, only that he was better off alone, that his unnamed plague could not injure others.
After years of training, Squall passed his SeeD exam, and, shortly thereafter found himself in the service of the Forest Owls of Timber, a resistance faction of some minor renown. Squall and his SeeD companions did their best to aide the Forest Owls in their ill-fated quest, and ultimately found themselves entangled in a plot to assassinate Sorceress Edea.
The plan went south, and Galbadia declared war on the world. The Sorceress, riding Galbadian Garden as though it were a mighty chariot, began her hunt for Balamb. This time came to a head when Squall, at Balamb's helm, directed the Garden into an assault on Galbadia's. The fighting was fierce, but in the end Balamb triumphed, and Edea was defeated.
It was only then that it was revealed that Edea had been a toy, used by Ultimecia to further her own ends. Squall gathered his team together, and in time they rose to the challenge, defeating Ultimecia, not in the future where she lived, nor in the present, where they lived, but in all times at once. The effects are still being studied by angels to this day.
In any case, it is always worth noting how many times someone triumphed over Chaos' champions. In this case, Squall defeated Ultimecia on three of five occasions. He failed to defeat Ultedea during the mission in Galbadia, but stopped her during the Garden Battle. He failed to stop Ultinoa aboard the Lunar Base, but subsequently defeated Ultadel inside the Lunatic Pandora. And, at the end, he defeated Ultimecia in her own Castle in all times at all moments forever.
Team Work: 5/10. Squall ought to score higher, given his excellence at leading an entire military force of teenagers to victory over a military of adults. This report, however, cannot overlook that in smaller groups, Squall tended to work worse, rather than better. It is possible he has grown past this, but the report nevertheless will consider him a coin-toss in terms of team work.
Lethality: 7/10. Squall's might drew heavily upon the beings known as Guardian Forces. Nevertheless, as summons have been permitted, there is no reason to believe he will be crippled in this way. Even so, he was a mere mortal. One with the finest military training his world could provide, but a mortal man nonetheless. He could not slice 6 powerful magi in a single blow, nor fly of his own volition, nor destroy cities with his own inherent energy. He was, however, a talented warrior, fierce enough that he did defeat 11 sorceresses from across time in one straight battle.
Faith: 10/10. Squall, no matter his personal beliefs, no matter the quandry, can be depended upon to A) never discover the nature of this conflict and thus B) never revolt against Cosmos. The docket makes it certain, stresses it, in fact, that as long as Squall believes this is his mission, he will carry it through. I worry, though, that if this is made more personal to him, we may have more problems.
Opposition: 8/10. Squall was fated to battle Ultimecia, destined almost. Because of the paradox caused by Ultimecia, and her effect on history, and Squall's own effects, the battle with Ultimecia was inescapable, unavoidable, an Endless Cycle. Interestingly, no alternate timelines are provided, almost as if to suggest that there is no way Squall and Ultimecia would not fight.
