CODENAME: LIGHTNING
Journey's End. An unusual location, and one that is, undoubtedly, not going to show up on your maps. Like Memoria, the place seems composed of memories of adventures, though here the memories are of the ends, and not of the lives of persons. It is a curious, and occasionally depressing sight. It's a place I'm hoping we can leave very, very quickly.
It isn't hard to find The Cids, nor is it difficult to locate Omega. They're the only living things in the landscape, and they're sitting atop a large, metallic spider. I wonder which appears stranger, to any who might observe this scene? The Chronicler, Engineer, Wanderer and Messenger seated atop a machine forged before The Gods, or the rag-tag group of poorly-united adventurers advancing upon them.
I'm uneasy as Hell walking through this place. I don't like having Firion and Terra behind me. Especially not Terra. It took pretty much every White Magic spell Arazlam knew to fix me up after the rage she unleashed in Comfortable. The others skulk further back, very much afraid of ME after their inability to lift a finger to my aid during those moments. And they've got every reason to be afraid.
As we draw nearer, I can see Chronicler beaming at us. Engineer retains his normal, mournful look, along with Messenger, and The Wanderer's face remains as contemptuous as the last time we met. I, for one, am comforted to see them. Even if Omega is one terrifying piece of machinery, it's good to see the only sane men in Heaven again. But as I look at Chronicler's smile, something odd seems to twitch at the corner. It must just be my imagination, though, and nothing more.
"Ah, children, it is so good to see you again!" Chronicler says, hopping down from Omega's hulk. "I was beginning to worry you wouldn't come."
"They've finally shown?" Wanderer asks, "Did they bring the Beauties?"
"Aye, looks t' me li' they did."
Something in my spine tingles. I can't shake it, but Omega just bothers me to see. Suddenly, almost making me jump, a hand rests upon my shoulder. Lips by my ear whisper with a voice I'll be haunted by for all eternity, "if I don't come back from this, nothing will ever justify what you have done to my children." Gods, the more she talks, the more she sounds like an animal and less like a person. Maybe she's just trying to come off this way, I mean, we ALL see her as a weapon for our cause.
"Just keep your pants on this time," I hiss.
We fan out before the Cids, who present themselves in a neat line. At long last we've come to the moment for which I've toiled and wasted, since LONG before we made our attack on Bahamut's Lair. At long last, Omega's power will be in my hands!
"Ms. Branford, Ser Firion, how kind of you to join us."
"Did we ever have a choice?" Firion asks.
"I say we still do. I have half a mind to rend open your entire scheme here and now," Terra says, her voice very, very angry.
"Terra, we're all friends here, aren't we?" The Messenger asks.
"Gee, Cid, I used to think so, before I found out that, for all your penitence, I remained ever your favorite weapon."
"Hey, scene stealers," Gilgamesh barks, "more important things here than your petty feuds."
"What did you say?" Terra asks, whipping around to face him.
"I said your little personal problems can wait. Heaven and Hell are at war. You're on your way to the next Dissidia whether you like it or not, so for the LOVE of whatever Gods you may still worship, SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND GIVE US A HAND."
"You know, don't you?"
"Not all of it. But I'll be damned if I don't find out. Now please, we're nearing the climax."
"Fine. Let's do this, then."
Kramer smiles broadly and spreads wide his arms, "This is no occasion for violence, friends! This is a great moment, one for which all of you have striven during Life and Death. Now come! The procedure is relatively quick and simple. Ancient Magic tends to be so. Real, true ancient magic, that is. It's sort of a mountain, you see. You go back and things get really complex, but if you go further back they get simpler. This is because-"
"What my friend here wishes to say is that we're near to the end. If you would all be so kind as to allow our Beauties to mount The Beast."
"Hehehe, Beauty mounting the Beast," Benjamin laughs to himself. Cuore raises a hand to whack him, when, at a sudden stare from him, she lowers her hand slowly.
Ignoring these insipid exchanges, I give Terra and Firion a light shove forward, to send them climbing the beast. They cast a backward glare, then a look one at the other. Firion offers Terra his hand, and she, in an act totally different from the violent monster I've thus far seen, accepts it. Hand in hand they climb the magimechanical monstrosity. The Cids direct them to an opening along it's spine, roughly large enough for two people to enter. Granted, for someone as strong as she is, Terra is pretty slim. Ultimately, they lie themselves down, and Pollendina closes the opening above them.
Kramer attracts our attention to himself, asking, "Are you familiar with something called Proof of Omega?"
"Badge you get when you survive an encounter with Omega. Relatively few adventurers receive them. Ironically, most of them have been involved in Cosmos' Dissidiae."
"Excellent response, Mr. Gilgamesh. Now tell me, what is 'Absolute Virtue,'?"
"An unfair and impossible to win Hopeless Boss Fight."
"Now, now, ser. A real answer, if you would."
"No idea."
"Then let's have The Messenger explain it, shall we?"
The Messenger looks up from where he is working away at Omega's hull. What he's doing is beyond me. All I know is that my hand is itching for the moment Omega's power becomes mine. Any moment now . . . any moment . . .
"Absolute Virtue is the power held by the reigning deity of all. It is, essentially, the power to do anything."
"Now what if I told you that the Proof of Omega were a similar, if smaller power? And that this Proof, as you know, must be obtained through defeating Omega WEAPON?"
"So you're saying to use Omega's power, somebody has to defeat Omega, first?"
"Yes. Granted most "Omegae" that people meet are nothing more than variants sent out by this original to find and destroy Shinryuu. It follows, then, that one who obtains that Proof of Omega would obtain only a fraction of Omega's power, since that Omega was only a fraction of the real thing."
"To date, the only persons to defeat THE Omega are Shinryuu and, through Him, Garland."
"Exactly. So, to beat someone who is more powerful than even Omega, Garland, and Shinryuu, you will first NEED Omega's power."
"We covered this ages ago," I say, hoping against hope that where this conversation is leading isn't where I THINK it's leading.
"Too true. But let's extend that to its logical ending then, shall we? You need Omega's power. Omega's power is obtained via Proof of Omega. Proof of Omega is awarded to those who defeat Omega. Which then means."
"We have to beat Omega."
"Almost. YOU," he says, pointing at me, "must defeat Omega. If they help, its power goes to them, too."
"Well, I fer one am glad t' be don' wi' this explanation. 'Cuz 'e be wakin' up!"
We look past Kramer to Pollendina, who is jumping from Omega, followed quickly by Margrace and Marquez. The mechanical spider's eye has opened, and it's getting to its feet. The spider makes no noise as it gets to its feet, but I can hear a vaguely muffled screaming coming from within.
"What's going on inside it?"
"Exactly what you were told would happen: The Beauties are becoming one with The Beast again," Kramer explains as the screaming grows in volume.
"They're in pain! They sound like they're dying!"
"They already are dead, how could it get worse? And let us recall, they belong to Omega, the afterlife it claims from them is not their own to begin with."
"That's horrible."
"That's the power you sought, was it not?"
And so I shut my damn mouth. Nothing to say there. My stomach lurches once within me, then I turn my attention to Omega s it looks at me. I brandish the shard of the beast I've claimed as my weapon, furrow my brow, arch my shoulders, and ready for something way harder than the fight against Terra was.
I am not disappointed. Omega's sides burst open, and six miniatures of it pop out, each one rolling at me, after only seconds of the awkwardness a new life-form passes fresh from the womb. Omega itself fires an atomic ray right off the bat, and I avoid it only by seconds. As I dodge, though, the infant Omegae are latching onto me, holding me in place for their Mother's attack. Omega fires again, this time finding me incapable of escaping. The flaming ray of energy burns me to the point where, had I not already been dead, I would have been vaporized. Still, for something that can end Gods with ease, I suppose it's playing easy. Which is laughable, since it nearly melted my face off just now.
"That the best you've got?" I mock as the melted skin on my face begins to regrow. Gods, I'm glad Arazlam is back there spamming healing spells, because otherwise this'd last forever. "I've had boyfriends who hit me harder than that."
Ungoaded, Omega merely advances, raising one of its clawed legs to strike me, sending me, and the Omega-larvae crashing into the ground. Before I can get up, Omega fires another atomic ray. I'm pretty sure the damn thing's just set my hair on fire, from the smell. Groaning in pain, I get to my feet. When I do, though, Omega fires several wheels from within itself at me, knocking me back down.
Next I find myself forced to my feet by the Omegae its respawned. One of them bites down on my wrist until I let go of the Omega Weapon, which the others then carry back to The Mother. As they do, Omega fires another volley into me. Again the larvae force me to my feet, and again it repeats the process. It's methodical, though. Not an ounce of malevolence, nor anger, nor passion, nor any other emotion emanates from this thing.
Terra was wrong; she had tried to emulate dispassionate destruction, but her own, loving, feeling side permeated that, and she held back. Omega is not. The sudden blade through my stomach is a pretty good example of it. Gods, another atomic blast! I'm on the ground now, my internal organs regrowing from yet another cure spell. If it weren't for that, Omega would have put me down by now. As it is, I'm not sure I understand how I've survived this long. No sword, so now what?
Omega doesn't seem to mind. Then again, she doesn't seem to be at all upset that I'm bleeding out my intestines, either. For that matter, I'm not sure Omega is a She, and I'm not sure SHE has a mind. The ensuing carnage is beyond my capacity to describe. Mostly because the larvae have burned my eyes out. And as Arazlam heals me, it only serves as a sort of punishment for me. They just burn away anything that's been healed. GODS IT HURTS.
"Did you ever hear of the crime of Klu Ya?" Kramer asks. How I can hear him over the sound of my own screaming is beyond me, as the Larvae are gnawing off my ears just as quick as the Cure spells can regrow them. "Klu Ya took the proverbial Fire of The Gods, the knowledge of Lunaria, and gave it to the men of the Blue Planet. Zemus, seeing all from his prison on the moon, incited the people to slay this man. His plan was to build up Golbez and Cecil and do this to them, as well. This was Garland's original plan, too, to spend all eternity killing and being killed by the Warriors of Light. I believe, now, that you can relate to this. To the fear that drove Ultimecia to attempt time compression, and the reason Kuja welcomed death's embrace. You must be able to feel it, now: the pain which consumes every fiber of your being, save it be my voice. And you know it in yourself: this cannot be allowed to continue. Your friends won't let you submit to death, and if you fight, the pain will only grow worse. This you must overcome. Only then can we free The Scholar and save Heaven from the tyranny of Cid Lufaine and Cosmos.
"You are our only hope, child. Do not fail us now."
Can I just take this moment to ask why? Oh, sure, my breasts have just been ripped open for the larvae to burrow into my lungs and those damn cure spells only helped seal them inside, but since constant agony has driven me to insanity, I really would like to know: Why the fuck does everyone insist I do this? You know what? I'm beyond moral reasoning at this point. I'd say even I don't know why I'm planning on killing the God of the Gods of Gods, and I'd readily retire my "doing this for a friend" catch-phrase, if it weren't for this nagging feeling that I NEED to do this. And I just don't know WHY. And as I begin to vomit Omegae and blood, one ripping out my tongue as it goes, I realize that all eternity I have been labeled this or that by people and I am fucking sick of it.
So was Terra, and look where my greed got me. I wonder if she's still in there, laughing at me? Then again, given what they're doing to me, Gods know what happened to Firion and Terra inside that thing. I'm being constantly torn apart and sowed together again. I'm really, frankly tired of that. I'm tired of the Cids and their fatherly ways. I'm sick of Gilgamesh and his obsession with my ass. I'm sick of Arazlam and his DAMN Cure spells! Why won't he let me DIE? I'm sick of Cuore and her bloodlust. I'm sick of Benjamin and his refusal to realize we're the bad guys. I'm sick of Kain and his need to think every sin can be forgiven. I'm sick of Heaven and it's pretending to be holy. I'm sick of Hell and it's pompous overdoing of the bad in everybody's nature. I'm just sick, sick, sick of it all.
And in the midst of all this pain, I remember only one person who I can say was completely undeserving of my hatred. Was that Ramz- NO IT WAS THE SCHOLAR. Gods, what? Whatever, my head hurts, probably being split open and then resealed that's doing me in. So fuck it. Time to tear this mother-fucking, robotic, pre-eternal, piece of shit apart limb from limb.
One of the larvae tries to grab my face, and I crush it in my fist. As the one in my lungs bursts forth, I snap it in two. I rip them off my legs, and my shoulders, and my sides, and I stomp them as they come at me. When I've cleared enough of them off of me, I growl more than anything else, and lunge at the monster. Not sure what I plan to do, but fuck planning. I'm just going to take this thing apart. Gonna crack the crunchy outside and drink the gooey innards.
Omega fires volley after volley of atomic rays at me, and though I burn, I've learned that Arazlam will not, under any circumstances, cease to heal me, so I just push through it, quite literally. My face burns off, the skin peeling as I step forward, only to regrow moments later, then be burned off again. What I must look like at this moment I can't say, but I don't honestly give a damn. Worst case scenario, at least my ass will still appeal to Gilgamesh.
For the first time since it ate up two people and started to rend me with its fury, Omega makes a sound. It sounds something like a squawk, and if it could feel, I'd say it was surprised. Weren't expecting this, were you, bitch? Well that's what you get for pulling your punches. C'mon. They say you've got what it takes to kill the man who maintains reality, so how about you SHOW IT OFF, EH? No? Fine by me. You're all talk, then, slut.
Omega charges forward, and when it does I make a grab for the forelegs. I spread wide my arms and just barely manage to grab them both. Putting every fiber of my being into the next move, I assert my muscles in pulling the legs together, even as Omega strongly resists. I just pull and pull, even as the hulk falls down on top of my, nearly crushing me beneath its weight. At last I hear the long awaited SNAP, and the legs break off. It makes a noise like pain, but this must also be a mere ploy. I know it can't feel, so I won't dare be fooled by something so cheap as pretending to be in pain.
"This is for us to win the war," Marquez says, somewhere in the distance.
"No," I answer, crawling out from under the struggling Omega, my left eye finally growing back. I'm speaking mostly to myself, but then, I could just be hearing their voices in my head, going nuts from the pain. But I can't go crazy. Insanity is becoming only of the weak. And I won't give in to such luxuries as insanity and death, no matter how enticing. "Not for me. There is no war for me to win any longer. This is about destruction, and Gods have mercy, because when I am through with this, I won't have any left for any one." Wielding Omega's leg I begin to club the monster as it writhes in vain. It tries to get away, and the one eye rolls back to stare at me in fear. No, not fear. It can't be afraid. It doesn't feel.
I bash and I bash and I bash at it. I recall my cold-blooded murder of Garland, and I just let myself fall into the same berserk rage I felt them. Omega begins to crack, proving that the only thing that can end destruction is destruction itself. I let a laugh escape my lips at this. For all Shinryuu's machinations, and for all Cid Lufaine's power, I am the one who has at last hurt destruction itself. Take THAT Goegnuo.
And that's when it fires at my face in a desperate bid for freedom, temporarily blinding me as it bursts into pieces. When I clear my eyes, I see that it's rebuilt itself into a more centaurian form, wielding my sword in its hands. Fine, if it wants to play it that way, I'll be just fucking peachy. I've got one of its legs, what more do I need? Bring it on.
Omega WEAPON rears on its hind legs, brandishing the blade high in the air, then gallops forward. It strikes at me, but while stronger, Omega's height makes it harder for the attack to connect, and the sword is shorter than the leg, giving me the advantage in reach, if not in force. Fine, I can make this work. I can do this. No need to worry. Omega can't win. I can. I wouldn't enjoy winning. I will.
The blade connects with the leg in a cling that sends a tingle down my spine. Oh, no, that's just a remaining larvae slitting me open. I grab the son of a whore and rip it in pieces with my mouth. No idea how my teeth can do that. Don't care. Just need to destroy this monster. Not really worried why, just that I want this thing to DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE. Oh, no, I know why. Because I hate hate hate hate hate hate HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE IT AND WILL MAKE IT PAY FOR BRINGING ME SO MUCH PAIN!
The Omega-Centaur springs at me, and while it comes I run forward and kneel down, ramming the leg up as I do. The leg pierces the underside, and the monster guts itself on its own limbs. The parts fall down atop me with a crash that ought to split my skull open. The pain just makes me more frustrated, and I burst from within, pushing through the wreckage to find what remains of the more humanoid part of it. When at last I do, the thing pulling itself away with its arms, looking back at me in I'm sure must be what it thinks I'll take as surprise, it shouts in fear, the voice much more believable than the previous form. To shut the damn thing up, I kick it in the face, then slam my foot down on its throat. It grabs at my leg, wrenching at it in an attempt to breathe. I drive my foot down harder. At last I hear the CRUNCH of its bones shattering beneath my heel, but to be sure, I begin to stomp repeatedly, flattening the long-since unmoving body.
"AHAHAHAHA!" Is this laughter mine? I don't know. I feel GREAT though. The thing that had been bringing me pain beyond pain is gone. Oh, and how wonderful do I feel!
"You are familiar with Cecil Harvey?" Kramer asks, "How he had to slay his doppelganger to proceed with his quest?"
"It appears the same now applies to you," Margrace says. I turn around and, sure enough, rising from the shards of the beast are various bits and pieces that, ultimately are making themselves into me. At last they cease and, after a moment, become a near perfect replica of me. The skin is a different tone, and the hair is white, with the body clothed in black, Omega held in her hands, but otherwise, it's me.
i am omega, i have become perfect, and will terminate my objective effective immediately.
"Oh really?" I ask, "Think you're gonna get away with pretending you're me? This some kind of metaphor, eh? Not gonna cut it, bitch. I've torn you apart twice now, what's one more?
you don't factor in. when we are done, all is done. you do not frighten. there is no fear.
"Let's dance then."
So I grab the nearest pointed fragment of Omega and charge the Not-Me. Our weapons collide and our faces press together, forehead to forehead, as we attempt to kill one another. Omega falls and punches me in the stomach. As I lurch forward, I bring my elbow down on her spine, sending her into the ground. We wrestle briefly, then break one away from the other, backing away step by step.
you will be replaced. there is no need for something weak like you. strength must dominate. exterminate.
"Yeah? Well here's a bit of news for you: YOU'RE the one who'll be exterminated!"
So we come at one another again, her mechanical imitation of my soul, locked in a struggle to determine which of us is the REAL Lightning, and which one of us will have the privilege of putting this pathetic excuse of a universe to an end. Does her imperative drive to destroy outstrip my blinding rage, or is my fury more powerful than her dispassionate destruction?
Omega strikes me in the shoulder, and I stab her in the thigh. She pulls free from my blade and then, with amazing speed, is behind me. Before I can turn, the sword is bursting from my chest, filling me with a pain so excruciating it borders on sensual. I can't tell if I'm moaning in pleasure or shrieking in agony any longer. Probably both. My body has been rebuilt so many times in the last twelve minutes that I can't even say if any part of me remains that before was not present.
"You're still holding back," I laugh, blood sliding down my jaw.
i can't help it. feel different. never was an i before. something is different.
"Good for you. But you aren't supposed to have mercy. I won't."
ERROR: mercy unknown.
"Exactly." And so I pull myself off the sword and, in the same fluid moment, backhand the bitch, sending her spinning to the ground. Omega twirls and breaks her fall with a hand. This same hand she uses to spring back to her feet and kick me in the jaw. I stumble backward for a moment then, in nothing short of bestial fury, I leap toward her, casting the sword aside.
What is "love"?
"Something you can't feel. Nor do you feel hate, nor joy, nor sorrow, nor pleasure, nor pain," I mutter as I shove her to the ground, then straddle her. I raise a fist and punch her in the face. Strange that she doesn't resist.
I don't? But I hurt now.
"You don't know what HURT MEANS," I say, socking her again and again, blood bursting from her pseudo-angelic face. I don't stop. I can't stop. She would have done the same when we began. And she herself said she was going to replace me. Me or her. This is fair, then.
I have to destroy you. It isn't personal. It's a part of my job. I have to make certain the rot doesn't fill the forest. I have to maintain clean what is constantly filling with impurity, that's all.
"Stop saying 'I'! You aren't! You're just a machine made to destroy! You either feel or you don't! NOW SHUT UP AND DIE!"
I don't want to die. Please, stop.
"No. No, I won't!"
I've never felt before. This is new to me. This is special. I didn't know I destroyed this. Please, don't take this from me."
"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP! DIE DIE DIE DIE!"
Please, have mercy.
NO.
"I'm . . . so . . . sorry . . ." it says as I rip its throat open with my bare hands, exposing the pulsing false flesh within. The pulse slowly ceases after a period of erratic spraying of reddish mist at me. The chest beneath me quits heaving so rapidly, and the hands holding MY sword go limp. I feel my body go cold, but a laughter shakes me anyway. And so, victorious, I rise.
I walk toward The Cids, leaving the carnage and wreckage behind me. When at last I reach them I come up to Kramer and say, "Get the Hell out of my sight. I'll get you back your Scholar. But I don't want anything to do with you people any more. When I let him free, I'll do to him what I did to her. Then, if I ever see you bastards again, so help me, I will do to you what she did to me. Gods have mercy on your rotted, corrupt souls, because the minute I listen to you bastards about anything ever again, I swear on whatever power remains, I will not have any on you."