Part 2 Kuja stared blankly at Garland's new creation--a small genome child with dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes... "Just like the rest of them," Kuja thought with a hidden smirk of silent triumph, tossing back his own silvery blue hair haughtily. Garland had created another dud, another mindless, soulless vessel. Yet he claimed that this puppet was different from the others. Kuja laughed softly as Garland dared to compare him to the little clone. "What are you laughing about?" Garland snapped when Kuja's laughter became too loud. Kuja instantly put on a serious face. "I'm just curious how that... child is in any way similar to me. He looks just like the others," Kuja snorted. "How very original. It's a pity perfection cannot be cloned." He added with a yawn. Garland's glare dissipated, replaced with a secretive smile. "Do you know why this boy is special, Kuja?" He asked silkily as Kuja worked hard to keep a straight face. What a senile old man! Why did he insist that that vessel was so damn great? That was a rather laughable statement. Only Kuja stood out from the rest, both in mind and body, and that was how it was going to stay as far as he was concerned. "No, I don't," Kuja replied, trying to sound somewhat interested. In a way, he was curious. Curious to see what explanation Garland was going to offer. "Because, dear Kuja, he has a soul, just like you. Your souls are very similar. You could call him your brother. I modeled him after you, after all. Your soul, at least." Kuja could feel his eyes widening. What!? The child had a soul--like his!? How!? "Why did you make another?" Kuja asked, really interested now. The question seemed to delight Garland, and he smiled sadistically. "To replace you," He answered simply with the same indifference as always, even as his eyes danced with sick pleasure. "He's my latest model, you know. New and improved." Kuja felt the numbness of shock wear off, feeling it turn into anger. How could Garland talk about lives and souls as if they were no more than toys to be manipulated, machines to be manufactured. But then, as soon as the thought registered in his mind, the answer did as well. Because they were machines... They were toys. And he was merely Garland's porcelain doll. "You see, Kuja, you are but a defect. A mistake." Kuja looked up sharply. "What did you say?" Garland threw Kuja a knowing smile and turned away, looking to his new creation who slept, suspended, in a tank filled with blue fluid--just like the others. "Oh, I never told you? Or did you just forget?" Garland asked, feigning sympathy. "How could you forget? No, it must have been my mistake. Kuja, you were only an experiment. You know that, or you should, at least. This boy, however, is not. He is perfect," He grinned, looking to his new creation approvingly. "Oh, and he does have a name, you know. Zidane. Not that it matters. Well, Kuja, what do you think of your new little brother?" But Kuja wasn't there to respond. He had run out of the laboratory quickly and out into the blue light that engulfed Bran Bal. The expressionless faces and blank eyes of Garlands previous creations followed him as he passed by, sending a shiver of dread throughout his very being. So this was the punishment he got for being special, this was his reward for being different. Garland was simply going to replace him, and his replacement was already made! He was no longer special. He was no longer the only one that had a soul and a name. Garland created another to share that fame--no! To take it away! Garland didn't waste any time, did he? Kuja shuddered, throwing open the door to what Garland called the "inn" (Kuja really had no idea why there even was an inn in Bran Bal since none of the "normal" genomes ever slept), falling onto the one bed that was within it. How dare him! How could he gloat to him about how perfect that brat--Zidane--was? And why did he need another? And what exactly was it that made that toddler better than him? He sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking out through the open door at the genomes outside. All of them were gathered around a great pool that reflected blue light, and all of them were staring into the light, as if hypnotized. Moths drawn to a pretty flame... Kuja felt sick, but at least he wasn't one of them. They were all soulless and mindless, void of emotion or feeling. They followed the paths laid out for them with no complaint, never dreaming about who they were or even thinking about changing their fates. Did they even think at all? But... Then again, if he had been one of them, he wouldn't be in such a predicament. He would not fear replacement. He would have nothing to lose and nothing to gain. Oh, how simple life would be, spending the whole day staring into nothingness, never wondering about the future... He got off the bed and slammed the door shut moodily, not wanting to see them, and returned to the bed, sitting upon it once more. No, he wouldn't change the way things were, even if he could. Being unique, having a sense of self... That was what was important, right? Kuja closed his eyes, his hands balled at his sides so tightly that they hurt. Of course that was what mattered. That was the only thing that mattered to him and Garland knew it! That was why he created "Zidane", to spite him, to break his will, to beat him into submission without ever raising his fist! Oh, Garland was as clever as he was devious, but he would learn that his little doll was as well. Kuja chuckled softly to himself. Garland really did admire his new and improved creation, didn't he? Well, then why not do to Garland what he had done to him so many times--or tried to do, at least. He would take away what Garland loved most. Zidane. Then, not only would he show Garland that his will was too strong to break, but he would also prevent Garland from replacing him. How long had it taken to create Zidane? Was he so perfect that he couldn't be rebuilt? Once the little monkey was gone, Garland would have no choice but to see him as he was--an individual, a free thinker, his own person. And, if that wasn't good enough, what would it matter? Garland was next on his list! But for now, all he could do was do Garland's bidding, tune out what he didn't want to hear... And map out his plans. *~*~*~*~*~*~ Well, whatcha think? Like, no like? R&R, please! |
