Chapter 2: Light.
Meanwhile, another pair of emerald green eyes opened. A pair that had just as little right to open as the last. Where am I? He was still too fatigued from the sudden awakening to take in his surroundings. Pain. Unlike the other, this one could never forget the pain. His strength returned quickly and he seemed to remember that it had always been thus – he had been renowned for his endurance and quick healing. He reached out to take hold of something, and hauled himself to his feet. Looking around, now he could see what must have once been a city, but had long since met its destruction, ruined buildings covered in vines, covered in plant life inside and out. He had been dead, he remembered, and smiled softly, glad to be alive again, then his eyes trailed to the ground, caught sight of a skull, cracked and charred, this place had not died peacefully, and everything came back…
A teenage boy fought to keep hold of his sanity, and it was a losing battle. As he followed the flower girl… Aerith, he remembered her name was, to the church. No one saw him, however, it wouldn't do for him to simply waltz on in there and say hello. Damn Tseng had put Turks everywhere, it had been a real task even to get this close. He had to, though, she was Cetra, she must know who… what he was. More than a man, less than human. Why did the Turks want to keep him from her? They are right to, she is dangerous, your enemy. There was the voice, he often wondered what it was, everyone he had asked back at headquarters had put it down to mental illness – an expression of his own subconscious, they said. They were wrong, he could feel it. The voice was… alien, always goading him to hurt and destroy, robbing him of his humanity.
Kill her! Choke her! Bleed her! See if she's as pretty inside as out… He could imagine himself doing it, too, a strange thrill passing through him, balanced by sheer disgust, as he felt tiny neck between his fingers, soft, firm, yet so easy to snap… but it was much more enjoyable to choke the life awa- No! recoiling from the thoughts, had they been fantasy or reality? Only one way to be sure, he bit into his arm, green eyes flaring with a manic light, saw the blood drip from the wound he created. Dropped to his knees. He had tried to kill her. And rightly so… No! Kill! Shut up! So pretty.. Snap her! Never! Too pure, innocent… mustn't hurt her. He was rocking back and forth now, and strangely, Aerith reached out to him, but he recoiled, not worthy of her touch. Eventually, however he had caved, let her heal the wound in his arm. Begged her to let him know who, what he was. She had told him, or rather shown him how to find out. He had not liked the answers, and there had been no way to change the course of fate, his humanity already too diminished by the time he was given the chance for redemption.
Why had he been so obedient to ShinRa in the early years? Well, he knew the answer well enough – he hadn't known his own strength, didn't understand that, had he wished, he could have destroyed them all, chosen his own life. But would he have, given the knowledge? They had raised him, he had known nothing else, until She had taken his mind. If only Aerith had… and then the full gravity of what he had done sunk in, he had slaughtered hundreds, thousands, ruined lives and taken others, and he had killed her – the one person who had tried to save him, the one pure soul that had been left in the world. He felt… he didn't know how to describe it, until he realised it must have been remorse, an emotion he had never felt before. Strange, he thought, I am… different. She is gone. The last realisation came with what would have been joy, if it were not tainted by the sorrow he felt at what he had done, what he had been made to do. It had not all been Her doing though, She had simply broken him, shattered his mind, drained his humanity, then told him what to do. I may be…repaired, he hated the word, but it felt so fitting, considering what he had been, but somewhere within me… even in his thoughts, he could not finish the sentence.
Coming out of his thoughts, he realised something was… different, he felt… unbalanced, weighted on the right. Looking over his shoulder revived yet another memory. The forms he had taken in the final battles he had fought against Cloud and the others, further proof that a monster dwelled deep within him. A wing, black as his attire, yet feathered like an angel's, perhaps a cruel joke on the Planet's part, a reminder of what he had done. Which brought up an interesting question… why had he been given another chance? To atone?A glance at his wing confirmed his thoughts, he wrapped the new appendage around himself and walked on in search of life, unconsciously protecting himself from bitter, bitter memories, by veiling himself in deep thought.
-End Chapter 2-
