Castle in the Sky

A Ranma ½/Final Fantasy VII Crossover (With mentions of Sailor Moon)

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Dreams of Silence

Experiences have taught him to identify the bad days after waking up. The earliest memory Ranma recalled, was waking up on the road with a hungry stomach, and discovering that his father had either eaten all the food, or blew the money for breakfast on a heavy dose of sake the night before. Later on, the memory was replaced by screaming villagers, policeman, or whatever law officials there are, wielding pitchforks, clubs, swords, or any sharp objects capable of inflicting great pain, running after him and his father. Eventually, that memory was replaced by buckets after buckets of cold water, and after that... He shook his head wistfully. Better, better to bury that... the past belongs to the past.

However, back to the present time, one thing he is absolutely certain of, is waking up and counting no less than the muzzle of 10 sub-machine guns pointing in his face, pronounces the beginning of yet another bad day.

Well... at least they don't have cats... Ranma thought wryly, his lips twitching into a half-grimace, half-smile.

"Get up." One of the soldiers grabbed his arm and roughly hauled him to his feet while another took out a pair of handcuffs. Shaking his head, Ranma allowed the soldier to cuff him. Dizzy and sick are his current predicament, as if small sparks of electricity are coursing through his veins, in a rather unpleasant way.

"The President wishes to see the rebels, I trust you will not make any trouble."

Looking up, Ranma saw the two suits from earlier standing to his side. The bald one, who had done the lightning trick, still has his gun out; not quite pointing it at him, while the one who has just spoken is examining him with a critical eye. Noticing Ranma's attention, the man gave him a small nod. "My name is Tseng, this," He jerks his head in the bald man's direction, "Is Rude. We are the Turks." Seeing Ranma's confused look, Tseng adds, "We are... the head security of Shinra, in a matter of speaking."

Ranma nodded slowly and winced as the soldier behind him squeezed down the cuff, the steel breaking a layer of skin on his wrists. Judging from their stance, he had blacked out for no longer than five to ten minutes. "Wha..." He croaked, coughing, he cleared his throat before speaking again, "What do you want?"

Tseng shrugged, "Like I said, President Shinra wishes to meet you, and after that, you will be either thrown in prison or publicly executed for treason. It is not my concern on which."

"You..." Just then, the woman, Tifa, was haul up along Ranma's side. "Murderers!" She spat out. "All those people in Sector Seven!"

"If you put it that way." Tseng shrugged again, his face a mask of indifference. "Take them away. Rude and I will ambush the rest of the rebels here." He added an afterthought, "And keep an eye," he nodded at Ranma, "On him."

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67TH FLOOR

"Hmmm..." Professor Hojo pushed up the spectacles to the bridge of his nose and stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Professor." Tseng called out from behind him as the Turk made his way around the boxes of crates. "The rebels have been captured. And we have retained the Ancient."

"Hmmm..." Hojo made a dismissive gesture. "All the rebels?" He bent down, picking up a shard of broken glass from the floor, and examined it carefully before turning to Tseng. "All... four of them?"

Resisting the irresistible urge to swallow under the scientist's scrutiny, Tseng masked his face to one of smooth calmness and nodded towards the direction of the glass cage where Red XIII was kept previously. "And the escaped specimen."

Hojo nodded, stroking his goatee. "Hmmm, how interesting." He tucked away the piece of glass carefully, "The Ancient, put her in a holding cell here."

"Here?" Tseng inquired. "With the rest of the rebels?"

Hojo looked at Tseng over his spectacles before turning away. "Go now. Oh," Offering no explanation, he made a vague gesture towards the broken tube he had been examining, with liquid Mako spilled all over the floor, and broken glasses littering everywhere. "Get someone to clean this up."

Tseng snaps to attention. "Yes Professor." He relaxed and looked at the mess, noticing its state for the first time. "What happened here, Professor?"

Hojo stopped and gave Tseng a secretive smile. "Oh... nothing in particular, just an... old specimen of mine, not important."

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TOP FLOOR

Ranma offered his blond companion a wry smile and a shrug as they step into the room, 'escorted' by Rude. Looking somewhat distracted, Ranma added, "I followed along, and got tagged."

Cloud blinked, and turns to Tifa, "Tifa, you got caught too? Where's Aeris?"

"In a safe place." Smiling, the balding president of Shinra rubbed his hands together like a gleeful child with a stolen piece of candy. "She's a very special girl, you know. The last of the Ancients, one who will lead us to the Promised Land."

Ranma blinked...

The Promised Land...

The Planet, you see, is very special. We, the Cetra, once explorers of space, found her, and helped her. We harvest her energy, and turn them back into her. In turn, she grant us this... The Promised Land.

Shaking his head, he examined this newfound piece of memory, tuning out the babbles in the room. The Promised Land... Cetra. What is this?! Something... I died? She's o quiet, so quiet...

And the realization hit him, the tiny piece of discomfort he had felt ever since his awakening understood, as sudden as lightning that had struck him down from before, and hurt just as much.

"This meeting is over." President Shinra said. "Take them away."

"No!" Ranma yelled. This, this is what's wrong! Heads turned, and Rude made a move to grab him, but Ranma wretched himself away. "No! What have you done?!"

Stumbling across the room, he ran to one of the large windows behind the balding man, half slamming his body as he pressed his face against the cool glass, looking down. The eerily beautiful city, a world floating in the clouds, haunted by the green smoky mist, emitted from the eight gigantic reactors, as they suck up the Mako beneath the ground. Lifestream.

"She's silent." He whispered softly. Frustration welled up within, as well as a sense of grief, but quickly replaced by a burning hot rage. With nary a thought, Ranma snapped the manacles that bond his hands, turning around to face the room, he glared at the approaching Rude, his eyes darkening to a stormy gray-blue, stopping the man in his tracks.

Raising a shaky hand, he pointed to one of the reactors. "The Planet, lifestream! Do you have any idea, on what you have DONE?! She. Is. Dying!" Anger overrode his bodily weakness, and Ranma took a step forward, whispering softly, his voice hoarse. "She's dying, and all our efforts and sacrifices…"

He took another step, ignoring the giant cat's quiet murmur "So he can hear the Planet." and the black man's cry of "If ya could break 'em, why din'cha do it sooner!". Turning to the President of Shinra, Ranma glared at him hatefully. Unsure of his next course of action, yet, he knew that the Planet's slow destruction is somehow connected to this man through the elaborate speech he gave earlier.

"What have you done." A statement, quiet spoken, raw with the cold fury of the martial artist, he wanted, needed, to do something. What, he does not know. Kill him? Hurt him? Revenge for all of those who died to protect this world in vain?

Another step, and the room suddenly exploded into chaos. SOLDIERs, troopers, Mighty Grunts filled in from every exit, as his fellow companions were ushered none too gently to the sides. A shot was fired, and then another, the sound of machinery and the smell of metallic perfumed the room.

His body flowed without the aid of his conscious. Dodging the spray of bullets, then a punch of his own, with enough force to slam the trooper into the opposite side of the room, impaling the unfortunate man on the sword of a SOLDIER.

A haze of red filled over his vision. Blood. Yelling, screaming, flying bodies. The floor vibrated as the hum of machinery increased. Snarls. A beast, no... two, three, more. Fangs, sharp claws, and a sickly sweet smell. Pain, and a burning sensation down his arm. Poisoned? Perhaps, but the martial artist has gone too deep within his rage to recognize the damage.

Letting his mind wander, Ranma fought, for himself, for the peace-loving Cetra who died to protect the Planet, for his love, who was killed because of it, and for the Planet, who received all their sacrifices, yet, decaying slowly, in the hands of humans… and it was his fault.

Your people do not, would not, understand her as we do. You will destroy her. You realize this, don't you? You who among all your people, are the only one who feel her presence.

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"I love you, you know." The woman, no, girl, she was merely a girl at that time, twirled a strand of dark purple hair around her finger, looking at everywhere but him.

"I know." He sighed softly. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" She shrugged, trying to look casual. "I'm the one who's… stepping out of line, sempai."

"Firefly... I..." He paused, at loss. "You know I can't accept it. Akane and I, we loved… we love each other. We'll have children who'll inherit the dojo, and we'll grow old and die, together. And our family honor… it's…" He shrugged helplessly.

She smiled softly and dipped her head, hiding the tears beneath her bangs. "I know..."

"I want to help you, Firefly. You, and your future queen." He holds out his hand. "Friends?"

She took the hand and shakes it. "Friends... and Ranma..."

"Hm?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"No… nothing."

He never understood what she meant, until everything was over.

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Who...? She questioned absentmindedly, the grotesque tentacles wrapping around her main torso elegantly as she probed.

I feel... power. Cetra? No... Moon... Him... She reeled back in shock, before gathering herself again.

Of course... him. Still alive... yes. Tapping her 'chin' thoughtfully, Jenova 'smiled'. It wasn't a pleasant smile. Crooning softly, she reached within herself, and begins to plan her attack.

Make me proud, my son... and kill him!

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The sun was shining, so warm against his face. But he was cold, chilled to the very marrow of his bones within.

"Do you hate me?" The woman tucked her purplish-black hair behind her ears. "I love you, you know."

"I know." He whispered softly and rubbed his face. "I don't hate you. I love you."

"Then..."

"I hate myself for loving you, Firefly. Akane, she... we…"

"She's gone, she died, so long ago..." The woman smiled bitterly, only her eyes reflected the sadness she felt, and held up the large glaive in her hand casually. "With this, I can bring death and rebirth to planets. But I am also only a woman in love. Do you blame me? For wanting this? For doing what I've done?"

"No. I don't. I blame myself."

She had cried afterwards, it made his heart break.

He, in turn, loved her, cherished her. And buried the past behind him, paving a road to their future, but deep within him, he had never forgotten.

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Child... my child... awake! And free me!

Puppet, my precious little puppet.

Come, and join us...

"Ah!" Cloud woke with a start. "What... the doors!"

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Ranma blinked. Looking around, he notices that he's sitting on a grassy hill, overlooking a grand canyon. Exotic flowers bloomed; the songs of birds chirping can be heard around him. Everything was beautiful, serene, and...

Arms wrapped themselves around him from behind; and a warm, soft body is pressed against his back. He smelt lavender and jasmine, feeling the silky hair tickle his neck.

"I missed you." Ranma turned and wrapped an arm around her elegant shoulder, tugging her over to face him, and looked into her violet eyes.

"I missed you too." She whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss on his lips.

"I thought I had lost you forever, Firefly."

"I will always be with you, Ranma. Never forget that, my Consort." She leans against him, and he was content.

Centuries passed, though the world had never changed in his eyes before he spoke again. "What will happen now?"

She smiled and snuggled into his chest. "Saturn will have a guardian, or rather, the Guardian of Saturn shall have a ward." She holds up a hand to his lips, silencing his protest. "Shhh... you have your duties, Ranma."

"But where?" He kissed her on the head softly. "Who ever she is, she's back on Earth, with Serenity. And I not... you and I... I'm not… I'm yours."

"No..." Violet eyes watched him, smiling. "She's here. And you'll protect her, like you protected me, won't you?"

Watching her, drinking in her beauty, he nodded, resigning himself to his fate, destiny, and his choice. "I will."

And she laughed, those bell-like laughter he missed with all his heart. "Thank you. And Ranma..."

"Hm?" He inquires.

"A storm is coming." She said softly, and gasped.

The sky darkens, the wind howled, and the cold hit him. Tearing into his flesh, ripping away the warmth they shared.

He hugged her to him, trying to protect her, and suddenly, she was gone, gone from his arms, gone from his sight. He was alone, in the darkness.

Gasping, he turned around, again and again, but darkness consumed him, strands of silky shadow attached themselves to his body, wrapping him in a giant cocoon, choking him as an eerie musical crooning vibrated around him.

"Firefly?!" He screamed, "Hotaru?!"

Glimpses of ghostly green orbs flashed, slitted orbs. And the ominous feeling of menace surrounded him, pressing him down, choking him.

Ranma turned again, half-paralyzed with his ancient fear. He caught a flash of glowing green eyes, a wisp of flowing silver hair, an angular face, the texture of thick leather, the soft hiss of metal sliding against metal.

"Mother... hates you."

The sword impaled him, and Ranma's world explodes into pain.

He did the only thing he could.

Ranma screamed.

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"Eeep!" Aeris yelped and removed her hand from the martial artist's shoulder. Hopping back as he bounced up from the floor with a choking gasp. The man blinked owlishly in the light, his eyes dilated, with beads of sweat running down his face. He coughed, groping around blindly for a moment, before standing up.

"You had a nightmare, are you alright?" She inquires while Tifa peeked from the door.

"I... wha? What happened?" Ranma shook his head, a bit dizzy.

"You were knocked out, and sent here." Tifa said softly, her ruby eyes darting around, searching for hostile movement. "We all were." She tapped the adjacent wall, "The door to Cloud and mine cell was unlocked when we woke, Cloud's leaving ahead with Red XIII, the rest of us are covering up."

Aeris nodded as she strapped on her bronze bangles. "Our weapons are kept here too, do you need anything?"

"Oh no," Ranma shook his head, wiping away the sweat. "Let's go."

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The doors were unlocked...

Following the trail of blood, as well as the giant feline beast's urgings, Cloud ran.

The subtle sensation of foreboding enveloped him. A storm is coming... And we are swept within it... What will happen now, but to keep on fighting? Nothing... as long as Aeris is safe... it will be all right.

His thoughts turned back to the Wutaian. Without a doubt, the man is powerful; he had snapped apart the manacles without the aid of materia or any kind of enhancement. A valuable ally, one who can help him accomplish his mission... Mission? What mission?To save Aeris, isn't that what we came for?

Flashes of memories enveloped him...

Green liquid, tanks, needles...

"Speciment C... Failure... The Reunion..."

No!

"Cloud?" The great cat rumbled out his name. "Are you alright? You seem distracted."

"What?" The spiky-haired mercenary blinked and nodded. "Nothing, it was nothing... the blood trail leads up..."

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Ranma couldn't help himself. He stared at the sword.

It was magnificent. Long, over 7 feet in length. Curved, with a slightly dipped head. Sharp, gleaming metallic, except the parts covered in red, gleaming a dim crimson in the light.

There was no doubt about it...

It was the sword from his dream.

What does this mean?

Sephiroth?

The Promised Land.

A storm is coming.

The martial artist shook his head lightly; there will be time for questions, as well as answers, later.

Mother... hates you.

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Ranma sat on one of the reception desk, his feet dangling slightly, and stared back at the ruby eyes.

The hall was utterly still, neither sound nor movement except the two of them, waiting... a silent menace, intangible, yet choking at the very air. An uncomfortable feeling, oddly familiar... it was like the time when he...

"Who are you?" The question wasn't loud, but the echoes vibrated across the empty room.

He jumped a little, startled out of his private reverie.

Tifa's lips twitched in amusement before her face assumes a mask of seriousness. "You were in that tank, and the way you fought... you snapped the cuffs like twigs and punched a SOLDIER into the wall, and..." She held up her arm and gestured to the manacle-like hand guards on her wrist, specifically pointing to one of the orbs inserted in the slot. "You don't seem to have a Materia of any kind."

"Ranma. My name is Ranma Saotome."

She waited for more, but received none. "Ranma Saotome... that's... Wutaian, isn't it?" She spoke slowly, tasting the words on her tongue.

 Ranma hesitated, "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Tifa arched an eyebrow, her interest piqued, "What do you mean per..."

"There will be time for questions, later..." Ranma spoke quickly, giving her a small smile before whipping his head up to the direction of the stairs suddenly.

"It's been taken cared of," Cloud nodded at the two, taking the stairs two steps at a time. "Let's go."

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Kuso... Ranma shivered slightly as he hops into the tiny truck. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, and was quite proud of the fact that his voice wasn't too shaky. "Will this fit?"

"One way to find out." Barret grumbled from the Ranma's side as Red XIII leaped into the truck, squeezing himself in, and not quite thrusting himself in the pigtailed martial artist's face. The giant feline gave him a quizzical look as Ranma bit back a yelp, before tucking itself securely in the truck.

Ranma gulped and begins to chant the mantra in his head, It's not a cat, it's not a cat, it's not a cat...This is going to be a long ride… He smiled wryly, ducking as the truck crash through the window, landing non-too-gently on the road, before speeding off swiftly away from the Shinra blockades.

Grabbing the railing tightly, he offered a tentative, semi-smile at the big red c-c-ca... feline, who is still examining him curiously with its large, beastly eyes. Suppressing a small shudder, Ranma looked up, and gulped.

Behind the truck, a mob of troopers followed on motorcycle, closing in fast.

Yep, He sighed as the blond swordsman revved the engines, straying back to block the first wave of attacks. Definitely going to be a looooong ride.

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Kuso... I'm right. Ranma growled softly as he ducked another stream of flame. What are these things, and where did they come from?! Where are the people? Where are the... Cetra? He frowned slightly in guilt, and glanced over the pink-clad girl, who is with an air of absolute concentration, casting a healing spell on the red feline.

Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damnit! He swore and peeked from behind the truck, rubbing a forming bruise on his cheek absentmindedly. The blond was doing well holding his own against the giant machinery, with the black man, Barret---he had grumbled the name out during the rough ride---backing him up, kneeling next to a pile of debris, and guarding an unconscious Tifa.

Taking a deep breath, the martial artist reached within himself, beginning another attempt to channel his ki… and 'slammed', once again, into a smooth, glass-like-but-not-quite barrier, barring him from his power. Growling silently in frustration, he 'groped' around the barrier, feeling it twist and fold slightly beneath his 'touch', but remaining unyielding. It had shocked him when he attempted to consciously draw from his inner reserves to battle the giant machinery, only to receive an empty slate at the heat of the moment.

Ranma shuddered. He had been standing in front of the robot, ready to unleash a blast of power to eliminate the flaming machine before further damages could be done. He had examined his hands with bemused fascination, simply too shocked to do anything else. If the red cat hadn't body-slammed him out of the way at the last second, sacrificing its furry body to the scorching flames, the small bruise on Ranma's cheek wouldn't be the only 'souvenir' he receives from the gigantic robot.

My ki...since when?! Aargh! Later, all later...

The martial artist grimaced and readied himself before jumping forward with a flying kick to the upper part of the machine, using one of the half-toppled motorcycles as a sprint board as he placed his weight behind the kick, slamming into the robot with enough force to sent it spinning as one of the spiked wheels fell off. Wincing at the feeling of hard metal clanging against his boots, his toes tingling from the aftershock, Ranma tumbled down to the ground, landing carefully, if not very gracefully, on his feet.

Taking Motor Ball's new distraction, Cloud quickly charged towards it. Adrenaline pumping in Mako-enhanced blood, he rammed into the machine's side, the broadsword guiding the movements of his body. Slash after slash, elegantly made, yet just as deadly, powerful enough to create lasting after-streaks to the naked eyes as the broadsword split apart the very air around the machine, ending with a hard cross-slash to the right, the air whistling with the music of steel.

Ranma blinked at Cloud in awe, who was breathing heavily, the sword half-dangling in his hand after the exertion of strength. "Whoa..." was the only word Ranma got out, before Motor Ball exploded in a shower of metallic debris, forcing the two to duck for cover.

"Cloud!" Aeris quickly made her way over with Red XIII--healed of his burns, and Barret, holding up a dizzy Tifa as the group reorganized themselves.

"Well, what do we do now?" Barret inquired, rubbing his gun arm as he looked to the blond mercenary.

Ranma turned away from the discussions of Sephiroth and the Promised Land, his attention caught elsewhere. Beyond the rampart, the first rays of morning glory begin to shine, the sky lightened to a gentle pink, illuminating the landscape near and far, too beautiful for mere words to describe. Trailing the others wordlessly, he climbed down the rope out to the city gates.

His feet touched the ground in a graceful landing. Gazing around in wonder, Ranma smiled, and breathed in the air. It tasted of wilderness, moist soil, exotic flower pollens, and a sharp, fresh smell of freedom. The world has become much more promising in his eyes as his inner sense 'clicked' open.

For the first time since his rude awakening in the Shinra Headquarters to the wild chase on the highway, Ranma Saotome can hear the faint murmurs of the Planet again.

A.N I didn't have as much fun writing this chapter. Probably because of all the fighting that's suppose to be here. At least the background's out, and the story's finally going somewhere.

C & C Welcome at: yanslana@yahoo.com

Editor: The 17th Immortal

www.geocities.com/yanslana