Silver Rose 2
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
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.
.
March 8, 3078
Night. ShinRa Building. Executive Office. 9:37 P.M.
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"Rufus didn't do it..." Mystery Soldier, ShinRa Building
.
.
I think the reason I'm not concerned is because I think this is all a set-up to get me vulnerable, but my mind still races. It looks so much like her, this frozen look of shock on her -- to be blunt -- sliced-up face. Her entire body is streaked with bloody cuts, and she's propped up in the chair like any normal person.
But I turn from that, to the door leading to the roof. I want to see Hojo's lab for myself. Keeping my body -- slightly shaking but still telling myself this is all a big mind game -- to the wall, I look at my reflection in the long window. Creeping along the wall, looking horribly unbelieving, suit flapping out behind me. My Masamune is still gripped in my hand, but in my suit I almost look innocent.
My hand reaches for the door, and I start to turn the knob. My gut suddenly wrenches to hard that I think I'm going to die, as I realize something that dies on my lips.
"I'm not wearing my Turk s --!"
Just to prove me right, my reflection kicks down the door from the other side, taking the hinges clear off. He smiles dementedly at me as he walks through the door and grabs me, too stunned to react, by the throat. His smile is one of pure evil. "Amazing what the Professor can do with DNA samples taken when someone drops a bucket on your head "accidentally," isn't it?"
Everything comes back to me. Rude, disappearing without a word. Reno having moved so far in a seemingly short amount of time after the empty bucket fell on my head. The way everyone sounds nervous when they talk to me. Everyone's been playing a game with me, and they're trying to kill me.
My clone throws me forcefully against the glass behind us, and it cracks thousands of times under the strain. He keeps talking to me. "The Jenovan offered his own cells. Cetra plus Jenova gets me, a hellspawn that could take out the Wutain army by myself. I'm the only Turk we need here, Sephiroth. You're fucking obsolete."
He raises the Masamune to my face, looking like he wants to end it with a simple jab, but no one knows the sword like I do. I tense my throat up and lift my own sword, flipping it in a position that would be uncomfortable if not for what I'm aiming to do. I swipe toward his arm, and he drops the blade to pull it back. He makes the mistake of letting me go to bend down and pick it up.
Nothing like an original model, baby.
I leap over his back and spin to my left, bringing my sword down with enough force to shatter concrete. He meets it, and sparks shoot off from the clash. We both fall back into stance, and he's still grinning wildly. "Rufus. I made him kill your wife, you know." He rolls up his sleeve, dropping his guard, but I don't take the opportunity. On his wrist is a bangle with a yellow Materia orb in it. "Manipulate," he hisses.
I growl at him and bring my sword up at an angle. He side-steps and meets it with his own swipe down, which I take the force from, pinwheel my arm, turn the sword in my hand, and bring it directly downward on him. He crouches low and holds his up. They clang loudly as they meet, but there's still no fatigue on either side. He doesn't even sound winded. "After two years, I fully formed and made my way out of the lab, so they fired you and your four friends."
I manage to swipe quickly enough at him to throw him off-balance and shut him up, so I continue doing so. He's slowly backing up, out the door, and almost to the edge of the rooftop when he ducks low under my Masamune and ends up behind me. Throwing off his blazer, his wings unfold, just like mine. His are white, however. Everything is moving so fast I can barely think, but I don't need to in order to know to extend my own wings and take to the skies.
About thirty feet from the rooftop he catches up to me and we go at it again, just a flurry of motion with feathers literally flying everywhere. His eyes are wide and he's still sputtering about "Master's master plan" and how he made Rufus kill Aeris. I'm starting to doubt these are just mindgames now, but all I see is a ball of steel with the two of us dancing on the outside of it, stroke for stroke, parry for parry, jab for jab. No one's moving an inch.
Finally we part, and I notice we're both panting, flapping about fifty feet above the building, but both with the intent to kill the other. This clone is the last living form of Hojo on the Planet, and that's reason enough for me. Reason enough to make it feel the pain of pains. For killing my wife. For forcing Rufus to kill himself. For being of Hojo's creation.
Something rises from deep inside me, and I speak in an ancient language that I couldn't remember to save my life. On the other hand, my clone is doing the same, just in what I'm absolutely sure is Jenovan tongue. My vision goes milky, but I still see a blue aura encase him. I still don't know what I'm saying, but I know that we both finish at the same time and energy blasts from each of us to the other, forcing the inevitable clash of power.
We're both blown back by the combination, and it feels like I'm being flipped backward for an infinity. From what I can see -- which is a lot, because I'm flipping so rapidly that it all comes in clear -- the power clashed, mixed, and thrust downward. All of the floors from what I guess to be thirty and upward explode in a hellacious ball of fire, smaller explosions following that.
I finally stop rolling when my wings catch still air and I force myself upward. Surprisingly, the clone recovered even more-quickly and is flying toward me, unarmed. I take a moment and realize I've also lost my Masamune, but then take off for him. Our fists hook out, and we're roughly ten feet away from each other when it happens.
A look of shock comes to his face, and a milisecond later his head explodes in a crimson waterballoon. He immediately begins to arc to the ground, and I turn to see him explode in a mess of gore when he does hit it. I look around, and someone whistles at me. Even from this far up, I can see Jinaisim with his rifle out, and I free-fall most of the way down to him. I notice Reno, Cloud, Rude, and Dais with him as well, in a circle of rubble.
I set down on the ground, and I'm about to ask a question about how it went when the same whistle sounds from a few feet behind us. Then I remember the plan to kill me, the DNA transfer that created what I just destroyed, but I turn around anyway. Irvine is standing there, gun raised.
"Hey, Seph. You wanted to know my part in this?"
And then, I suppose, it all went black.
.
.
.
-Fin
.
.
Author's Note: There it is. The end of Silver Rose. I suppose I should apologize profusely for those expecting a multi-book series with frisbees and coffee mugs, and yet I like how it was. A build-up to a climax, a falling action, a semi-resolution, and then nothing. I'll probably post a giant extra section tomorrow or something, but for now, I'll leave you all with this, my favourite quote, to sum up the story.
"When a writer digs a hole, the reader's dirt is alway more fertile if they should fill it in themself.
There is nothing after the end, and the most absolute end is death itself.
If you want to hate a writer, then you will. If a writer wants to to hate them, then you won't."
by Reno Spiegel
Dante@towernetwork.net
.
.
.
March 8, 3078
Night. ShinRa Building. Executive Office. 9:37 P.M.
.
"Rufus didn't do it..." Mystery Soldier, ShinRa Building
.
.
I think the reason I'm not concerned is because I think this is all a set-up to get me vulnerable, but my mind still races. It looks so much like her, this frozen look of shock on her -- to be blunt -- sliced-up face. Her entire body is streaked with bloody cuts, and she's propped up in the chair like any normal person.
But I turn from that, to the door leading to the roof. I want to see Hojo's lab for myself. Keeping my body -- slightly shaking but still telling myself this is all a big mind game -- to the wall, I look at my reflection in the long window. Creeping along the wall, looking horribly unbelieving, suit flapping out behind me. My Masamune is still gripped in my hand, but in my suit I almost look innocent.
My hand reaches for the door, and I start to turn the knob. My gut suddenly wrenches to hard that I think I'm going to die, as I realize something that dies on my lips.
"I'm not wearing my Turk s --!"
Just to prove me right, my reflection kicks down the door from the other side, taking the hinges clear off. He smiles dementedly at me as he walks through the door and grabs me, too stunned to react, by the throat. His smile is one of pure evil. "Amazing what the Professor can do with DNA samples taken when someone drops a bucket on your head "accidentally," isn't it?"
Everything comes back to me. Rude, disappearing without a word. Reno having moved so far in a seemingly short amount of time after the empty bucket fell on my head. The way everyone sounds nervous when they talk to me. Everyone's been playing a game with me, and they're trying to kill me.
My clone throws me forcefully against the glass behind us, and it cracks thousands of times under the strain. He keeps talking to me. "The Jenovan offered his own cells. Cetra plus Jenova gets me, a hellspawn that could take out the Wutain army by myself. I'm the only Turk we need here, Sephiroth. You're fucking obsolete."
He raises the Masamune to my face, looking like he wants to end it with a simple jab, but no one knows the sword like I do. I tense my throat up and lift my own sword, flipping it in a position that would be uncomfortable if not for what I'm aiming to do. I swipe toward his arm, and he drops the blade to pull it back. He makes the mistake of letting me go to bend down and pick it up.
Nothing like an original model, baby.
I leap over his back and spin to my left, bringing my sword down with enough force to shatter concrete. He meets it, and sparks shoot off from the clash. We both fall back into stance, and he's still grinning wildly. "Rufus. I made him kill your wife, you know." He rolls up his sleeve, dropping his guard, but I don't take the opportunity. On his wrist is a bangle with a yellow Materia orb in it. "Manipulate," he hisses.
I growl at him and bring my sword up at an angle. He side-steps and meets it with his own swipe down, which I take the force from, pinwheel my arm, turn the sword in my hand, and bring it directly downward on him. He crouches low and holds his up. They clang loudly as they meet, but there's still no fatigue on either side. He doesn't even sound winded. "After two years, I fully formed and made my way out of the lab, so they fired you and your four friends."
I manage to swipe quickly enough at him to throw him off-balance and shut him up, so I continue doing so. He's slowly backing up, out the door, and almost to the edge of the rooftop when he ducks low under my Masamune and ends up behind me. Throwing off his blazer, his wings unfold, just like mine. His are white, however. Everything is moving so fast I can barely think, but I don't need to in order to know to extend my own wings and take to the skies.
About thirty feet from the rooftop he catches up to me and we go at it again, just a flurry of motion with feathers literally flying everywhere. His eyes are wide and he's still sputtering about "Master's master plan" and how he made Rufus kill Aeris. I'm starting to doubt these are just mindgames now, but all I see is a ball of steel with the two of us dancing on the outside of it, stroke for stroke, parry for parry, jab for jab. No one's moving an inch.
Finally we part, and I notice we're both panting, flapping about fifty feet above the building, but both with the intent to kill the other. This clone is the last living form of Hojo on the Planet, and that's reason enough for me. Reason enough to make it feel the pain of pains. For killing my wife. For forcing Rufus to kill himself. For being of Hojo's creation.
Something rises from deep inside me, and I speak in an ancient language that I couldn't remember to save my life. On the other hand, my clone is doing the same, just in what I'm absolutely sure is Jenovan tongue. My vision goes milky, but I still see a blue aura encase him. I still don't know what I'm saying, but I know that we both finish at the same time and energy blasts from each of us to the other, forcing the inevitable clash of power.
We're both blown back by the combination, and it feels like I'm being flipped backward for an infinity. From what I can see -- which is a lot, because I'm flipping so rapidly that it all comes in clear -- the power clashed, mixed, and thrust downward. All of the floors from what I guess to be thirty and upward explode in a hellacious ball of fire, smaller explosions following that.
I finally stop rolling when my wings catch still air and I force myself upward. Surprisingly, the clone recovered even more-quickly and is flying toward me, unarmed. I take a moment and realize I've also lost my Masamune, but then take off for him. Our fists hook out, and we're roughly ten feet away from each other when it happens.
A look of shock comes to his face, and a milisecond later his head explodes in a crimson waterballoon. He immediately begins to arc to the ground, and I turn to see him explode in a mess of gore when he does hit it. I look around, and someone whistles at me. Even from this far up, I can see Jinaisim with his rifle out, and I free-fall most of the way down to him. I notice Reno, Cloud, Rude, and Dais with him as well, in a circle of rubble.
I set down on the ground, and I'm about to ask a question about how it went when the same whistle sounds from a few feet behind us. Then I remember the plan to kill me, the DNA transfer that created what I just destroyed, but I turn around anyway. Irvine is standing there, gun raised.
"Hey, Seph. You wanted to know my part in this?"
And then, I suppose, it all went black.
.
.
.
-Fin
.
.
Author's Note: There it is. The end of Silver Rose. I suppose I should apologize profusely for those expecting a multi-book series with frisbees and coffee mugs, and yet I like how it was. A build-up to a climax, a falling action, a semi-resolution, and then nothing. I'll probably post a giant extra section tomorrow or something, but for now, I'll leave you all with this, my favourite quote, to sum up the story.
"When a writer digs a hole, the reader's dirt is alway more fertile if they should fill it in themself.
There is nothing after the end, and the most absolute end is death itself.
If you want to hate a writer, then you will. If a writer wants to to hate them, then you won't."