Author's notes:

I don't own Xenosaga or any of the characters, blahblahblah and all that disclaimer stuff
yes, I know chaos is associated with angels, but Jr. is my hero and my angel :)
a few details differ from the game... just exercising my artistic licence

thank you for reading!

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Xenosaga: Behind the Face of an Angel.

Chapter One: Darkness Bleeds

The light is failing now.

Darkness is coming.

It's the same every time.

This symphony of misery.

Over the wailing of human voices and bursting gunfire it rises. A white flame without heat. Yet, it consumes everything. It touches us all. I can feel it in the back of my mind. A numbing throb that is growing stronger and stronger, threatening to destroy me. I feel my resolve shatter. The fear is rising inside me just as the white flame of U-DO is rising above the crumbling landscape.

In the distance I see the butchers of the living. I watch helplessly as they turn their guns on fleeing civilians and then on each other. They don't even know who they are. They don't even know what they are doing. I see the madness distort their faces. My face. Hundreds of me running crazed through the streets of Miltia.

Then... out of the rubble emerges one I claim as dearest above all. He calls out for me. His mind is desperately searching for my presence, afraid that I, too, have succumbed to the chaos. Nigredo. You and I are the last. But there is yet another. He's coming for us now.

It's the same every time.

My fear turns to panic...

I wake up with a start, my clothes drenched in sweat. For a second I forget where I am. My mind is still trapped in the nightmare. Trapped in Miltia. But sounds of war quickly fade leaving the silence of the room behind. I blink into the darkness, listening to the pounding of my heart and wondering about the past. Miltia City. I can see it in my mind, glittering in the midday sun, teeming with life and promise. I called it home, although only real people had homes. We're a long way from there now, and a long time has passed, but it seems like yesterday... The feeling of loss has not lessened over the years. My throat immediately closes up at the memory. Smoke and ashes. Ashes and smoke. It was all burned to the ground. Nothing and no one left.

Except the guilty.

I roll over in bed and hit my pillow angrily. It's useless. I can't relax. Every nerve in my body is humming . My fingers itch for a fight. I hate myself when I get like this. Nothing satisfies the ache inside except to feed the pain with more pain. It's too late for any carousing in the streets and too early to walk the decks of the Durandal in search of trouble. But if I stay... if I close my eyes, the past comes back to torment me. I run my hands through my hair and tug, but it doesn't relieve the pressure building inside my skull. Lately, not even Gaignun's words can reach me. Nothing penetrates the anger. I remind myself that somebody has to do the fighting. How else will the innocent be protected.

I sneer at myself and throw an arm across my face. Are my motives that heroic? Do I really believe the crap I perpetuate? Those children... I didn't protect them. I was afraid of them. Sometimes I fool myself into believing that saving one out of hundreds makes me less of a murderer. I have struggled these long years to keep him that I saved from the taint of my mistake. I protected him and softened the blows that life dealt. I made sure he didn't have to suffer for who he was... a survivor. The one who was granted life while the rest died.

Nigredo.

I tried to give him the kind of life I could never have. I hoped, in time, he would forget about war and death, and someday find peace. And then he surprised me and became a man who had more strength and integrity than I ever did. The one I saved then became the one who protected me, letting me live the lie of a child. Entombed alive in this body, I continue to project innocence and hide the heart that is impure. It is a burden that I must bear to atone for the ones who would never live to grow old. Nigredo, I hope your nights are more peaceful than mine. What do the guiltless dream about? When they aren't haunted by the faces of angels.

I sigh and lie back down, waiting out the hours until morning comes. I can't go back to sleep. I won't. There is too much to think about and I can't be distracted at a time like this. We may have destroyed Proto Merkabah, but we have only delayed the war. I can never escape this. I will have to fight when the time comes. It seems like there is always darkness around me. Even in the light of day, the darkness bleeds into every corner, every thought, every longing until there is no difference between the waking and the dreaming...


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why Jr. is special: Jr. was just one out of many U.R.T.V.s, but he was somehow more individual than the others, which explains to me why he reacted differently to the crises--to me, Jr. is a mutation on top of a mutation. He was consciously able to break the link--in essence, defy his basic (I'm not so sure the other U.R.T.V.s ever even considered such a thing and probably would have just allowed themselves to become infected rather than choose self-preservation).

about Jr.'s age: during the Miltian Conflict, Jr. witnessed Realians and U.R.T.V.s becoming infected by U-DO--it was then that he became afraid and broke his telepathic link from the others--this weakened their powers to resist and counter U-DO. On top of that, Jr. lost control of his power and released it onto both the innocent and infected, killing everyone around him. Here is where my story differs from the game: according to what I have read out there about Jr.'s age suppression, this expenditure of energy was huge and stunted his growth which is sorta proven when Jr. used his powers to bind that charm together for MOMO. He said to her that it tires him out afterwards, but then I think, woah, there, that was just a little nothing-no-big-deal use of your powers--what about when you fought Albedo and all that flashy light shot out from you??? What happened then? Why weren't you tired after that? Yeah, so I don't buy it completely. The Jr. in my story chooses to remain the same age and it has nothing to do with losing energy.