FINAL FANTASY:

C E L E S T I A L C A T A S T R O P H E

Life is one continuous story.

One life begins, while another ends.

But life is an endless book,

whose only ends are of its chapters.

Listen to the story of one chapter;

As it ends, another will begin...

Prologue: 1030 years ago...

War plagued the land. Great creatures and machina converged on bloodstained plains, and countless fighters met their end day by day. All anyone ever thought about was war; after all, everyone was in it. Zanarkand and Bevelle...two colossuses fighting for dominance over one planet. War laid on the backs of all who were in it, of all who fought it. War, at the level these two fought it, allowed only a tunnel-vision of their world. Through its veil, little else was ever noticed, or cared about.

No one noticed, for instance, that amid the flares of rockets and fireballs flying back and forth between armies, one flash in the night sky wasn't artillery. Neither was it magic, nor searchlight beam; nor was it even of Spira.

No one cared about the flare of entry created by the object from space, the small meteor-like craft bearing a cargo far worse than the war itself. Everyone saw it; but no one felt that it was important. It had nothing to do with their war, and few even acknowledged that it had ever happened.

But they would feel the effects of its impact for millennia to come.

One creature, carrying its precious cargo, emerged from this craft. The creature had a purpose to be here. It knew of this war, what it entailed, what it could do for its plans.

It was time...

Yu Yevon had plenty to be proud of. A beautiful daughter, his own summoning prowess, his world in his hands. He, more than anyone he knew, had the ability to direct his own destiny.

But Yu was not feeling proud just now. He was feeling worried. Not surprising, he thought to himself. After all, he had a losing war to fight. But that wasn't what worried him, now, as he had just summoned the greatest Aeon in existence, one that he hoped would turn the tide of the battle. A magnificent, fearsome creature it was. But he still felt the familiar goodness radiating out of it. It was sad, though, that his lifelong friend had sacrificed himself as the Aeon's Fayth. It couldn't be done any other way. At least his friend would always be with him. This, at least, was what Yu preferred to believe. With the help of his friend, Yu could surely end this conflict and save his people, who even now were preparing to flee for their lives.

But that wasn't what had him worried. No, it wasn't worry, not anymore. It was as though something wasn't right. He felt, suddenly, a sense of wrongness, a feeling of evil that he couldn't shake. Much the opposite of the Aeons he had so very often called to his aid.

He wasn't worried, not now. He was scared. Very scared.

And whatever the evil was, it somehow seemed to know it.

"Who's there?" Yu said into the night.

Silence was his only reply. Silence all around him.

Maybe it's just me...I hope it's just me.

Still nothing. But the feeling was worse, now. He felt as though the evil was just behind him.

He whipped around, expecting to find some hideous fiend like a Marlboro preparing to consume him.

Nothing. Front and back, right and left, completely clear. But he knew something was there.

And then it hit him. If there was nothing around him...

He looked up, and started as he stared directly into a face. A beautiful face.

One with blood red eyes.

Yu didn't have time to scream. The creature was on him in an instant.

But the creature wasn't interested in his flesh. It wanted the body intact.

Impossibly, it slid down his throat.

Yu didn't scream; he wasn't able to.

When Yu awoke, nothing was different about him physically. Even though his last waking memory was of a creature forcing itself down his gullet, his throat was still intact.

But something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. He had no control over his body.

But the creature did.

The creature radiated evil out of its new slave.

No, this cannot be happening! Release me, demon!Yu thought in pure terror.

Fool. You have no say in this now. You are mine to control. I shall use you as I choose. something within his mind responded.

What are you?

You will find out. You will see how I will rule the existence of these miserable wretches.

The creature summoned Yu's Final Aeon. Yu was powerless to stop it, his mind divorced from his body. The Aeon appeared as it had before, bowing before its master. As it raised it's head, the Aeon felt its opposite's evil and reared back in instinctive disgust. A quarter of a millisecond was all it needed to react to the unexpected threat.

It didn't, however, get that quarter of a millisecond.

Dark power enveloped the body of Yu Yevon. Like the creature had done to him, Yu Yevon entered the Aeon.

It is done. The power of all sins shall rule this planet.

CHAPTER 1: Dawn of Night

(time: present)

A caravan of carts rolled down the old path, pulled by well-bred chocobos. The carts carried various supplies of the most festive kind. Ahead of the carts, several dignitaries rode on chocobo-back. Behind the carts were some small machine sleds carrying others. The center cart of the caravan was larger than the rest. It carried the guests of honor: two men, three women, and one Ronso, perhaps the most famous group in all of Spira.

The defeaters of Sin.

It was Sindependence Day, the thirtieth since the death of the bane of Spira, a commemoration of the start of the Eternal Calm. For the guests of honor, the treatment today was no less than regal.

The ceremonies were to take place in the Thunder Plains this year. For some reason, the storms of the Thunder plains had stopped a decade earlier. It seemed fitting to rename the area to match its new, more cheery weather.

The entourage had just passed through Guadosalam. Few people visited the place, as it had been years since anyone could safely enter the Farplane. The bright daylight greeted the travelers in its enveloping warmth. The day was perfect for the festival. Fiends were now a rare sight, and no one worried about an attack. The day was, so far, going off without a hitch.

Suddenly, the passenger-laden cart came to a jolting halt. The Hypello driver turned to see what was holding it up. Apparently, one of the wheels had fallen into a rut left by the lightning storms of old.

"Oh, no! I am terribibly shorry!" the Hypello exclaimed to his passengers. "We sheem to be shtuck.". By that time, several escort men were working on prying up the wheel with boards.

They weren't having much success.

"Geez, that's not gonna come outta there easy, ya?" Wakka said and frowned. The day had gone so well, too; now...

"Stand aside. I'll handle this," a powerful voice said behind them.

Everyone turned. A brown-haired man stepped forward. He looked very young, perhaps no older than twenty or so, though his manner made him seem much older. He wore a peculiar armor over his chest and shoulders, one unlike that of any organization in Spira. As Tidus turned in his seat to see this bold interloper, the man removed his armor, revealing toned and heavyset muscles in his arms and shoulders. He rubbed both arms briefly as the other men stepped aside, seemingly not willing to stop him. He can't be serious, Tidus thought, realizing what this man intended to do. He thinks he can move this thing by himself? Why don't they stop this screwball from hurting himself, anyway?

Apparently, they knew more about him than Tidus did.

The man reached forward and gripped the wheel with a hold that could crush bone. "Errrrrrrrrrrrrgh!" slipped through his clenched teeth as he pulled on the wheel, his muscles straining and compacting themselves to accomodate the weight. Much to Tidus's surprise, the entire cart, passengers and all, began to slowly rise out of the rut. The chocobos pulling the cart took cue from the shift on their reigns, moving forward about a foot. The wheel met solid ground, and the cart wheeled safely out.

By now, everyone in the cart and around it was staring with their jaws dropped. The man stood back up with a slight smile across his his lips, apparently satisfied with his work.

Tidus was blown away by this feat. Never in the 47 years of his life would he have believed that such a thing was possible. As the man walked away, he asked the driver if he knew who that was. "I dubn't know," the hypello replied, "but he'sh in today'sh tournamament of fightersh."

Wakka was still staring at the wheel, apparently unable to believe what he just saw, either. "I wouldn't doubt it, ya!"

Tidus sat back in his seat. There was something odd about that man, he thought. And it wasn't just the strength. Something about the eyes, he thought. The man's eyes seemed to see right through you.

The Sindependence Day festival was huge this year. Already the biggest celebration on the planet, the thirtieth anniversary was the largest yet. The advances made in the study of machina had given rise to a host of new machines, including the various new rides people could enjoy.

But the latest and greatest wasn't what made the festival so important this time. This year, the High Summoner and her Guardians were in attendance to mark the thirtieth anniversary. Attendance was at its peak.

Amidst the various new rides and displays were several particularly special events, chiefly the Contests. The contests were annual meetings of the best warriors and mages in Spira. The honor of winning the contests was the greatest one possible for any warrior on the planet. The Contests were divided into several categories: martial arts, archery, magic sorcery, and chocobo jousting. Hundreds of participants were lined up along the edges of the fields, eager to begin. There was a high turnout this year, mostly because of the importance of the occasion; however, there was talk of particularly large rewards this year for the winners.

Lady Yuna and Sir Tidus sat in the top pavilion, along with the Lady Lulu and her husband Sir Wakka, the Lady Rikku and the Ronso Elder Kimahri. Near at hand were close friends and family: Vidina, the son of Lulu and Wakka; Paine, Brother, Buddy, and a now fully grown Shinra, formerly of the Gullwings; the leaders of Spira, Nooj, Gippal, and Baralai, were in attendance, as well as Leblanc and her former Syndicate members; and even Cid, now almost 70, had managed to come. In the bandstands, practically half of Spira had come to see the events unfold.

Notably, one important member of Yuna and Tidus's family was not in the stands; their son, who was mounted on a chocobo among the contestants below. Gainberg was his name, though his parents and friends all called him Gain. Gain was fidgeting nervously on his mount, seemingly more eager to take part in the contests than anyone there. Gain glanced around impatiently at the other arenas to view the other contestants. All the fighters seemed ready and impatient to start. All, that was, save for one. Gain recognized him. He was the one that had lifted his parents' cart out of the rut earlier that day. Among the restless masses, that man was steady as a rock.

Gain was glad that the man was fighting in the martial arts tournament, not in jousting.

Gain glanced around again. The archers were preparing the ranges for their own test of skill. He noted that for the first time in the history of the contests, a girl was participating in the archery. Usually, few women were skilled and strong enough to handle the large contest bows. She, however, seemed tougher than most of the guys there.

In the magic sorcery field, about ten mages were practicing their spells. Little interested him in that field, though he noted one guy had an interesting scar on his right hand in the shape of an orb. The man himself seemed to be strong, an uncommon characteristic among most mages.

Today is going to be very interesting, he thought.

At that moment, Sir Tidus and Lady Yuna stood up. Cheers rang out through the throng for the high summoner and her husband. Yuna motioned for them to be silent.

"Today is an important day for us all," Yuna began. "Thirty years ago today, the greatest scourge of Spira was, at long last, destroyed forever!" More cheers rang out. Many still remembered the terror of living with Sin. Yuna motioned for their silence again. "Now, we commemorate the start of the Eternal Calm, the lasting peace, with a tribute to all of the brave souls of Spira: summoners, their guardians, and everyone who ever showed the courage to battle Sin for the millennium of its existence."

Tidus now stepped forward, glancing at the eager multitude. "And now for the fun part! Let the contests begin!" Though Tidus was now middle aged, he demonstrated why he had been the best blitzball player Spira had ever seen. Jumping into a sphere shot, Tidus kicked a blitzball clear across the field to hit a gong on the other side. At the sound of the gong's ring, cheers erupted anew, and the contestants entered their arenas, cheering just as wildly.

Below the bandstands, one man wasn't cheering.

For him, there was something ironic about the whole event. A celebration of peace through fighting was high on the list of things he didn't quite understand. To him, the world wasn't as safe as everyone thought it to be. Sin was no longer the problem, of course, but now he knew that there could be a far worse problem than Sin. A very old one, at that. Almost as old as I am, he thought absentmindedly. The thought slipped his mind again, as so many had done lately. A moment later, he no longer remembered what it was that was so important.

He just continued to watch the tournament unfold.

The Contests were underway. The martial arts was the largest of the four, and many would say the most important. About thirty separate fights were underway, three people to a fight, all in neat little rings. Among the contestants were humans, Guado, and even a few Ronso. Also among them was one who seemed unstoppable: Zeth. Not surprising, seeing as how he managed to lift the cart earlier that day.

Zeth dispached his lesser opponents with great ease. Soon, it was down to him, another man, and a Ronso. He was up against the man first. The man was agile and strong, and he circled his opponent around the inside of the ring. He was watching Zeth intently. But Zeth wasn't looking directly at him; his focus was all around and across his opponent. He knew better than to look him in the eyes.

The man moved. A jumping kick. Zeth sidestepped the kick, grabbed the leg as it passed him, and spun the man flat on his face. The man rose quickly, eager now to counter the humiliating maneuver, and unleashed a flurry of punches. Zeth blocked them easily, and on the last punch he spun his opponent again and threw him to the ground. The man rose more slowly now; as he readied himself back into his fighting stance, Zeth landed a jab to his abdomen and followed up with a backhanded uppercut. The man was momentarily dazed by the sudden blows;that moment was all the time Zeth needed. Spinning around on one foot, he hammerblowed his opponent on the back of the head, hard. The man went down, but this time he didn't rise.

The Ronso was next. He was nearly nine foot tall and among the strongest of his race. The Ronso regarded his opponent with contempt, as he did the others before him. The Ronso charged Zeth, but at the last instant, Zeth leapt and spun in the air, bringing his foot down on the back of the Ronso's neck. The well placed kick made the blue giant angry, and as he recovered from the blow, he readied his most powerful punch, one that would surely break Zeth's ribs. What happened next, however, made everyone gasp. Zeth grabbed his opponent's hand as it flew, made an intricate spin at lightning speed, and without so much as straining a muscle he threw the Ronso through the air about twenty feet. The amazing ring out won him the match and the tournament.

The crowds were cheering loud as ever. This year's contests had been spectacular. Now, the prizes were being given to the well-deserving winners.

Zeth stood alongside the winners of the other three contests. Most of the other contestants were recuperating in the stands. As Zeth soon discovered, the rumors had indeed been true. The reward for each winner included one hundred thousand Gil apiece, a stock of items, and a specially made trophy. But that wasn't all.

"For winner of Magic Sorcery, Kimahri present famous Wizard Amulet to Excalim Narook."

Kimahri was giving the awards. Excalim, the man with the scar on his hand, stepped forward to receive the prize. Zeth noted the appearance of this man. Strong, but with a constipated look on his face. He was too uptight, even for Zeth. Excal took the shining piece with stiff dignity.

"For winner of Chocobo Joust, Kimahri present Winged Shoulders to Gainberg, son of Lady Yuna and Sir Tidus!" Gain wore a goofy, almost sheepish grin in front of the crowds. Zeth liked that kind of person: they reminded you that life wasn't all that bad after all. His parents were very proud of their boy, and Zeth heard their famous twin whistles.

"For winner of Archery, Kimahri present Adamantine Bow to Sai Arwell." This was the biggest surprise of the day. The female archer Sai stepped forward to receive the weapon. As she passed, she caught the eye of Zeth. For a brief moment, it seemed as though time slowed. For a brief instant, he could see the fire in those eyes. Then the instant passed by, and so did she. Sai continued toward Kimahri to claim the bow.

"And finally, for outstanding winner of Martial Arts, Kimahri present Lion Crest to Zeth Wallast." Now it was his turn. The Ronso, shorter than most and with a broken horn, now held a slightly triangular plate in his hands. Engraved on the plate was an animal of great strength and pride. Zeth paused for a moment. That symbol seemed familiar somehow...

Nah, maybe not, he thought. Zeth took the prize respectfully and retuned.

The winners lined up, holding their prizes above their heads, and the crowds cheered joyfully. The few security guards around the Guests of Honor sighed in relief. The day had gone off without a hitch.

Then, it happened.

Roars louder than the crowd suddenly erupted over the hills. In full view of everyone, a hundred fiends poured over the fields, charging directly at the fairgrounds. People began to panic. The guards surrounded the Guests of Honor and the other dignitaries, fearful for their safety. All hell was breaking loose, and there wasn't a thing they could do about it.

Zeth turned and saw the horde of fiends approaching. But he did not run. Instead, he cracked his neck and fingers. Calmly, he reached for his weapon of choice on the sidelines: a two-handed ax.

He calmly walked into the field, as though the fiends did not exist. They were, by now everywhere around him. Suddenly, he looked at the nearest one, and swung the axe. The fiend never saw it coming. Without pause, Zeth hefted the ax into another swing. Another fiend fell. His axe sweeped now into deadly arcs and chops, over and over. Fiends fell before him, one right after another.

The other winners took cue from Zeth. Gain brought out his two short swords, saying "Come on! Let's give him a hand!". Sai quivered an arrow into her new bow. Excal brought out an iron cudgel, the stiff look on his face replaced by one of anger. The three joined the fray, attacking fiercely.

The fiends had by now taken notice of the four warriors. The tide of the fiends movements shifted in their direction. Sai fired her arrows from a stump with deadly precision. Zeth covering her from below with his axe, cutting all fiends that came near. Gain and Excal took up the flanks. Gain's swords gleamed and sung as he danced to their deadly tune. Excal's club stopped fiends in their tracks with sickening thuds. Sai's arrows picked the fliers out of the sky. And Zeth's ax never stopped moving.

By the time guard reinforcements had arrived, the battle was already over. No one, fortunately, had died, though there were several injuries from the panicked scramble of the mob. All told, 107 fiends fell that day. Almost half fell before Zeth.

The four warriors stopped to catch their breath. None could believe what just happened.

Zeth glanced back through the horde of pyreflies left from the onslaught. There were so many, innumerable streaks of light streaming through the air like flares in a light fog. As they dispersed, they seemed to almost flow together, their tails converging into an endless stream of souls.