A/N: I'm ba-ack!!! Sorry for the wait but, yeah . . . the usual excuses. Actually, I laid off writing for a few days 'cause when I found out about the Final Fantasy VII sequel movie (Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children) I sort of freaked out and couldn't stop thinking about if for days straight (my mom was threatening to get the shot gun if I didn't stop giggling and muttering crap about buster swords and evil scientists ^_^). I wrote a fic during the muse; you can see it if ya want. It's in the Final Fantasy VII section (duh) and it's called My Awakening Nightmares. For those who know the game and Sephiroth's history (which means you'd need Vincent Valentine) it's an eerie one-shot where Vincent is released from his coffin for one hour and runs into Sephiroth (only eight years old *giggles* kawaii!) showering himself in mako at one of the Shinra labs. But Vincent doesn't recognize Lucrecia's son until it's too late . . . *sniff.* So yeah. This chapter's short. I'm sorry, but the next few scenes require me to stop where I did. It just makes the story flow better . . .

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"I'd rather be a could-be if I cannot be an are; because a could-be is a maybe who is reaching for a star. I'd rather be a has-been than a might- have-been, by far; for a might have-been has never been, but a has was once an are."

- Milton Berle

"Sir, there is somebody here who wishes to see you,"

". . . I don't want to see anyone . . ."

"But sir . . . It's Drakja . . ."

The silver-haired man clenched a fist in his lap, a small shudder running through his body.

". . . What does he want . . .?"

"To see you, sir. Should I send him away?"

The man hesitated. "No. I want to talk to him . . . Now,"

There was the sound of retreating footsteps and a door creaking open then shut. The silver-haired man bit his lip. He could feel his body shaking. When the door opened once more, he did not even look up.

Another man stood in the threshold, his green eyes obviously troubled. He glanced at the servant beside him, forcing the minion to back timidly out the door. Then he turned his attention to the man sitting facing away from him. What he saw caused the green-eyed newcomer to close his eyes with grief.

A woman lay in the bed, the covers pulled up to her chest and her arms resting on top. The poor creature's skin was the color of melting snow, and her hair lay in tangles around her head. But the sheet did not rise or fall with her breath, and the stench of death seemed to fill the room. Lying beside the woman was a small bundle. And it, too, did not move.

"Oh god, Saishoja . . ." Drakja whispered, keeping his eyes averted from the sight. "I'm so sorry . . ."

Saishoja sat upon a stool beside the bed, his back to the green-eyed man. He let out a shaky breath and Drakja noticed Saishoja's shoulders were shaking.

"We . . . We did not even name him . . ." the silver-haired man rasped, unable to keep the pain out of his voice.

"Saishoja, I'm so, so sorry . . ."

Saishoja turned around suddenly, and Drakja felt as if a knife had gone through his heart. Tears were flooding down the silver-haired man's face like endless pools of grief. He seemed unable to stem the flow, and his breath was coming out in short gasps.

"I can't see them . . ." Saishoja moaned, staring strangely at Drakja. Drakja shuddered. It had been a long time since he'd seen Saishoja's eyes, and he'd forgotten how strange they were. Colorless, really. As if they were nothing but the whites.

"I can't see them . . ." Saishoja repeated.

"Saishoja . . . What happened . . .?" Drakja asked tentatively. The silver- haired man clutched a fist near his chest, turning his face towards the floor.

"The child . . . something went wrong . . . And then they . . . they both . . ."

He could not bring himself to finish the sentence. There was such agony in his colorless eyes; such pain. But then there was anger. Anger as cold as the room.

"This . . . This didn't have to happen . . ." he snarled lightly, waving his hand across the room. "This room was to bring life, but instead it has only brought DEATH!" Saishoja stood up furiously, baring his teeth in such a way that Drakja stepped back. "I left them in the custody of Tanjo! They were the best! But they - YOU - have failed me!"

Drakja gasped, eyes wide with disbelief. "Are you . . . Are you BLAMING me for what happened to your wife and child?!"

But Saishoja was beyond comprehending what the green-eyed man was saying. His fingers were trembling as they reached for the sword resting against the wall. Drakja's eyes flickered and for a moment he readied himself for a fight. But then Saishoja clutched the hilt and hastily sheathed his weapon.

"I'm going back," said the general flatly, brushing a strand of ivory hair over his shoulder. "I'm leaving this accursed city. In all my years of childhood, my mother would not allow me to enter this . . . this place. Now I know why . . . It is a hellhole!"

Drakja glanced back at the corpses before reaching towards the retreating man. "W-wait! What about - "

"Burn them," Saishoja snapped, not even looking over his shoulder. "If I cannot see them, then they must leave this planet,"

But Drakja wasn't finished. "But Saishoja! Surely returning to Shi - "

Saishoja stopped and a cold, malicious smile flitted across his lips. "They will hear of this, my dear Drakja. The people of Shi will know of Tanjo's deeds by noon tomorrow. So if I were you, I'd take that general position you were offered . . ."

Drakja watched, dumbfounded, as the door slammed soundly in his face.

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Drakja sat bolt-upright and hurriedly stifled a gasp. The words still flickered like fireflies through his mind - the agony of Saishoja's words. He fumbled clumsily out of bed, running his fingers robotically through his hair.

". . . Drakja . . .? What're you doing . . .?"

Drakja let out an "eep" of surprise and turned around. Lulian yawned and stretched, rubbing her eyes sleepily and smearing mascara across her face. Drakja raised an eyebrow.

/How did she . . .? How did she get there . . .? Oh well, lucky!/

"Drakja, is something wrong?" Lulian queried thickly. Drakja took a deep breath and shook his head, a shaky smile on his face.

"Um, nothing, Lulian," he lied. "I think I'll . . . I'll go get ready for the attack later,"

Lulian yawned, collapsing back on the bed. "That's a . . . That's a good idea . . ." she was asleep within seconds.

But Drakja did not go get prepared. Instead, he went in search of Garland . . .

When Garland heard about Drakja's dream, he seemed - at first - troubled. Then rather amused.

"Yes, Saishoja was quite the cold fish, wasn't he?" the aged Terran chuckled, watching Drakja's agitated movements closely.

"Garland, you did not tell me that Saishoja had a wife and child," Drakja hissed rather accusingly. Garland sighed, shaking his head.

"First of all, he didn't have a child. The poor thing was a miscarriage and cost its mother her life. Second of all, why should it matter?"

Drakja blinked. That thought had never occurred to him before. Why did he care about Saishoja's life? Saishoja was dead. Had been for hundreds of years. And yet that angel of death - Kuja - was he not Saishoja reborn in a way? So why did Kuja seem so different from his ancestor?

"Drakja," Garland's voice was heavy, and his piercing eyes held his servant's gaze. "You mustn't trouble yourself with the petty lives of a has-been such as Saishoja. It does not affect you in any way. And I assure you, whatever aspects of Saishoja's life affect Kuja, I am currently . . . Taking care of . . ."

Drakja gulped, but nodded. "Yes, sir . . ."

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Zidane sighed heavily, watching the arguing leaders. "Morons . . ." he grumbled softly to himself. Garnet shushed him and stood up.

"People, people, settle down!" she shouted, trying to get her rather tiny voice heard above the snarling. Unfortunately, now all eyes were focused like lasers upon her, and she suddenly felt like she was in the spotlight. A blush upon her cheeks, Garnet began to speak.

"People, I understand that there is a conflict of interests here . . . But if Cleyra chooses isolation, then so be it. We can't force someone to ally us. Then they would not be an ally. But please, we mustn't argue!"

However, Queen Stella of Treno was on her feet, a suspiciously sly look upon her feathered face.

"Why, my dear Queen Garnet. I understand that you wish an alliance to protect us all from this mysterious "assailant" but if my memory and informational sources are correct, do I not recall that the culprit of the last bout of attacks is currently living within this castle?" her voice rose several octaves upon the last fragment of the sentence, the queen unable to keep the ecstasy out of her voice.

At the crestfallen look upon Garnet's face, the room fell silent. Zidane was sitting up alertly now, eyes dancing with fright. How had Stella found out?! Beatrix and Steiner were shifting at their post, prepared to get nasty if things got out of hand. When Garnet had composed herself and found her voice, she spoke.

"Y-yes, that is true . . . However, we know for a fact that he is no longer a . . . a threat . . ."

Queen Stella smirked, fanning herself haughtily. "Oh my dear queen, please do not lie if you cannot keep the fear out of your voice," she turned around the circle of nobles, eyes dancing mischievously. "Could not Alexandria be our enemy?"

A ripple of unease ran through the circle. The king of Burmecia was shaking his head doubtfully. But others were standing now, demanding the truth.

"He should be locked away!" a red mage was shouting, shaking a fist around the gathering room. "We have no proof that he is not the culprit unless he is dead!"

Beatrix glanced fearfully at Zidane, who's eyes were narrowed dangerously.

"Zidane, don't do anything stupid," Freya warned, leaning over from several seats down. "There's no telling what a few unwise words can do to a group like this . . ."

Zidane placed a hand on Garnet's shoulder and stood up. But he didn't begin to argue. Instead, he walked straight out of the room, leaving the surprised faces of Gaia behind him . . .

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Kuja had stopped reading the library book altogether. He strained his ears, listening to the death threats emanating from below.

/They still think I'm capable of that sort of destruction?!/ the warlock thought in disbelief. /Unbelievable! What a bunch of naïve bastards!/

"Hmph," Kuja snapped to another page in the book and began to absorb himself within it once more.

The door opened behind him, and light flooded into the room. Kuja hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Zidane stood there, and he wore a look of the utmost determination on his face.

"Kuja . . . You have to go down there. It's turning into a riot,"

The blood drained like a faucet from Kuja's face. "Wh-what?! Have you been listening to what they've been saying down there?! There's no chance in hell I'm going anywhere NEAR that freak-show!"

A low growl escaped Zidane's throat. "You have to, Kuja! You have to defend yourself! They're accusing you of destroying Dali and Esto Gaza!"

"Well that's there problem then, isn't it?" Kuja snapped coldly, turning away from his brother once more. Zidane came up behind him and fiercely grabbed the genome by the arm.

"It'll be YOUR problem if they come up here in their ignorant state!" he shouted, glaring into Kuja's awestruck face. "I thought you didn't want to be persecuted anymore!"

Kuja's face fell. He knew Zidane was right, but . . . But how could he show his face to the public like that? Most people didn't even know he was alive. How the hell had they found out?!

"Come on!" Zidane snarled, yanking Kuja out of the chair. "Let's go before they get the flaming torches!"

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The arguing seemed on the verge of spilling out of the room now, and people were shouting so ferociously that even the Treno nobles had dropped their British accents and high-class acts. Beatrix and Steiner were in the midst of the circle, using their swords to keep people at bay. Garnet watched helplessly, all the while wondering where her fiancé had gone.

Suddenly the door flew open, and there stood Zidane, his eyes glowing with a furious energy. A hush fell over the nobles as faces turned towards the blonde. Zidane stepped lightly into the room, his tail swishing with agitated jerking motions behind him. And even more surprisingly, he had brought someone with him.

"Here is your proof," Zidane hissed at the Gaians, waving a hand in Kuja's direction. Kuja stood there motionless, looking nervously around the circle. For once, even Freya couldn't mistake his fear for some sly plot against humanity.

Most of the people were stricken dumb with surprise. Many of them had only heard of Kuja in stories, and others hadn't seen him for years. But more importantly, almost everyone in the room had been sure he was dead . . .

"Do you understand now?!" Zidane shouted, glaring at the leaders. "Kuja isn't even allowed to leave the castle! He hasn't been for days! Ask anyone here if Kuja's left Alexandria and you will hear a confident no!"

"But he is a sorcerer, and capable of non-physical violence!" a scholar from Daguerreo noted suspiciously. There was much nodding of heads at the comment. Zidane rolled his eyes. There was no way to get through to these people that Kuja and Alexandria were not the threat . . .

"Kuja," Beatrix hissed in his ear, coming up beside the warlock. "Kuja, you have to defend yourself! Please!"

Kuja was frozen. He just shook his head, staring fearfully at the floor.

"They won't listen . . ." he murmured. "I'm the enemy . . ."

"Oh for crying out loud! Be a man!"

"Leave me alone . . ." Kuja turned away from the general. He could feel the eyes on him. They were full of hatred and loathing. Lani was watching with fascination.

"Amarant . . . Do you think he's going to say anything?"

Amarant snorted. "Are you kidding? That wuss . . ."

"I feel bad for him . . ." Vivi said softly, watching his creator empathetically.

"It's what he deserves . . ." Freya snarled.

Kuja glanced around the circle. The faces were expectant. They were waiting for him to defend himself against the wrath of Gaia . . .

"I-I don't want any trouble . . ." Kuja mumbled, tail sweeping the floor. "I can't even use my magic anyways . . ." he lifted a finger, attempting to light a flame. There was a spark, but it flickered and died within seconds.

Zidane frowned. /I didn't realize his magic was so bad . . . Why is Garland doing this to him . . .?/

"He lies," a Burmecian said simply. "Everyone knows he's been attacking Alexandria for weeks . . . I was there. I saw him do it . . ."

"Th-that wasn't me!" Kuja shouted suddenly. "I don't even REMEMBER doing it!!!"

"Please, we need to keep that situation out of this," Beatrix commanded loudly to the circle. "It's completely unrelated and has nothing to do with Kuja,"

Explosive arguing ensued.

But finally, one who had kept quiet almost the entire discussion spoke.

"The man responsible for these disasters is the man who was pulling the strings last time,"

Dr. Tot seemed strangely placid as he sat there, watching the squabbling flash across his glasses. Zidane, who'd been walking towards his brother suddenly stopped.

/He knows something . . ./

"Oh, and do you plan on enlightening us?" Queen Stella queried superciliously. She raised a delicate eyebrow, smirking through her beak. Tot nodded, rising.

"I'd be glad to,"

Steiner looked nervously at Beatrix. It was obvious that Tot had some information they had not yet heard.

"You see," the scholar began. "If I might take us back three years, you must all remember the things Kuja did to Gaia. That is probably the reasoning behind your ignorance. However, it seems none of you are aware of the man who was ordering and controlling Kuja. The man Kuja broke free from,"

"Garland," Zidane whispered. Tot nodded.

"Yes, Garland. Well it would be lying to say Garland hasn't returned. He has. And this time he seems to be using Kuja indirectly. In other words, Kuja's not the problem. Nor is Alexandria," Tot added, glancing at Garnet. "The threat is Garland. Garland is capable of destruction beyond reasoning. And currently we aren't fully aware of his plans,"

"He's trying to get rid of Kuja," Fratley muttered off-handedly. Tot shook his feathered head.

"No, I don't think he is. He's helping Kuja gain power in such a way that Kuja can't fight back,"

Zidane's eyes widened. /Of course . . . Give Kuja powers that he can't get away from . . ./

"Kuja," Tot turned suddenly to the First Angel of Death. "You know Garland better than any of us. What do you think he wants?" he was watching Kuja curiously, and it was obvious that he was attempting a round-about way of explaining himself.

The warlock blinked, taken-aback. Eyes were boring into him on all sides. He bit his lip.

"Uh . . . Probably the assimilation of Gaia and Terra,"

"Not vengeance?" Tot queried. Kuja shrugged.

"I doubt it. That's not Garland's style. Stick to the quest and gun it,"

"Exactly," Tot smiled. "Garland wants to finish what he started. How did he try to do it the first time?"

Kuja closed his eyes, thinking how everything connected. "Well, he attempted to get rid of the Summoners and then got me to make wars so that he could collect souls to give to his genomes and,"

"Okay, that's enough," said Tot, raising a wing. "The point I'm trying to make is that Garland's plan sounds like a repeat of what he did the first time, except tweaked,"

"Tweaked?" Garnet wondered aloud. "How so?"

Tot's eyes were shining with glee.

/He knows . . ./ Zidane thought wistfully.

Tot was grinning from ear to ear. "Because, my dear queen . . ."

"Garland no longer has the souls . . ."

These words seemed to trigger a strange response from the First Angel of Death. He swayed, clutching onto Zidane's shoulder for support. The blonde, albeit startled, quickly caught his brother.

"Geez, Kuja . . ." he slowly lowered the sorcerer onto his knees. The Gaians were watching with a mixture of shock and sudden doubt. Tot was nodding to himself, his thoughts obviously confirmed.

"Do you see?" Beatrix growled to the circle of nobles. "Kuja's not a threat. He's been like this for quite some time. Does this look like a man capable of genocidal destruction?"

No one answered as Beatrix carefully helped get Kuja to his feet.

"You alright?" she queried, peering into his face. Kuja started to nod but suddenly winced. There was a flash of red in his eyes that made Beatrix's gut clench.

/Dear god . . . They're still there . . ./

Suddenly, right before the eyes of the leaders of Gaia, Kuja flung himself at Tot and collapsed before the old teacher's feet.

"Please, Tot . . ." he pleaded, clutching one of his feathered hands in desperation. "You have to help me get rid of them . . . Their voices . . . They won't stop . . ."

Tot's eyes were sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Kuja. I can't . . . For more reasons than one,"

Kuja's blue eyes took on a defeated look. ". . . Why . . .? Please, you and that woman are the only ones who can help me,"

Tot sniffed. "I can't help you, Kuja. Perhaps a year ago I could've but - "

"Wh-what changed a year ago . . .?"

A silence fell over the room as Tot responded, and it left no doubt in anyone's mind that Kuja was innocent.

". . . Because a year ago the limit on your life ended . . ."

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"Um . . . hi. I'm a, uh, foreigner . . . And I, uh, want to . . . come in?"

"Yeh have ta say thah sacerd greeten' afore we beh lettin' ya en,"

"Wh-what . . .?"

"Rally-ho! Now yeh tra,"

"R-rally-ho?"

"Tha's a good lad. C'mon en,"

Ummei stepped cautiously through the entrance, his green eyes traveling over the strange Irish architecture and tiny, green people wandering through the town.

He had finally made it to Conde Petie . . .

/This place is seriously screwed up . . ./ the geonome thought to himself.

"'scuse me!" he shouted to a female dwarf outside the nearest house. "I'm looking for a family called the Yorokobi's. You heard of them?"

"Ah, the Yarakobens," the dwarf said enthusiastically. "They be livin' nair the church. What ye be needin' em fer?"

/Yarakobens . . .?/

"Um, I just want to talk . . ."

"Shar! Ye jus' be walkin' through the market and when ye be seein' a steeple, they be in theh hoos,"

Ummei scratched his head nervously. "Um . . .Okay . . ."

The trip was not a fun one. Green, smelly dwarves shoved their way by as Ummei fought his way down the crowded market street. And every time he asked for help he was bombarded by inaudible Scottish accents. Eventually he became so tired that he collapsed down against a building. When he looked up, there was the steeple . . .

"Aw, gee . . ."

So now he walked to the church. And sure enough, right outside was a small cottage. Trembling with nerves, he knocked on the door . . .

"Hello . . .?"

There she was. Curling locks of blonde hair, intense blue eyes, small wrinkles in her still somewhat youthful face.

Ummei blushed. "Um, are you Mrs. Yorokobi?"

"That I would be. And . . . who are you?" she was looking Ummei up and down, eyes traveling from his strange clothes, to the whip in his belt, to his frightened emerald eyes, and then back down to his mahogany tail curled around his leg.

"M-my name's Ummei - " /Damn . . . Why'd I say my name . . .?!/ " - And I'm here to tell you, er, you have to leave,"

Mrs. Yorokobi raised an eyebrow. "Uh . . . huh . . . Well, whatever you're selling, we're not interested. Thank y - "

"No, please! Here me out!" Ummei cried desperately. Mrs. Yorokobi frowned as an old woman came up beside her.

"Martha, what's going on here? Who's the tailed runt?"

Megan's grandmother was gazing calmly at Ummei, arms folded across her chest. Ummei gulped.

"Please, miss . . . I came here to give you the message that you have to leave,"

"And why is that?"

"Because it's no longer safe," Ummei said, shrugging. The older woman raised an eyebrow.

"And we should believe you . . . why?"

Ummei wracked his brain. What could he say that would make them trust him? Then he remembered . . .

"Because," he said softly. "I was sent by the purple-eyed woman . . ."

The Summoner's eyes widened immediately. The elder frowned.

"I see . . . Come, Martha. We'll go pack,"

Mrs. Yorokobi blinked. "Um, alright. Thanks, you weird, weird, creature," and she slammed the door in Ummei's face.

For a moment he stood there, dumfounded. Then he grinned.

"YES!!!"

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A/N: *Sigh* Ummei's excited 'cause he actually DID SOMETHING RIGHT!!! Go tailed runt, go! Aw, poor Kuja-baby. He in nasty shape ^_- Oh, and I'm gonna do a little spoiler (don't expect it usually). Yes, Tot knows A LOT about what's going on, but he doesn't know EVERYTHING. Put in simpler words, Tot doesn't know enough to save Kuja or any of the other characters from the peril Garland will be unleashing shortly. Particularly Kuja. However, Tot IS right about being unable to get rid of those people. We aren't going to learn about that for quite some time, but you'll soon start to see that this plot takes on a catch-22 sort of feel. Literally, everything leads to Kuja's death (check my profile for more information on the plot). *Sigh* Poor Kuja-sama . . .

ReAd AnD rEvIeW!.!

P.S. If you want to see the Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children trailer, go to fftheme.lowerego.net. It's totally awesome! Sephiroth is SOOOOO hot now that the characters look human. *Pictures Sephiroth and starts fanning herself and sweating* Oh yeah . . .