Lloyd vs. Wesker: Fear and Loathing in Grandis Somnium

By Daredevil3181 and Alpha Anomaly

The vast majority of people had watched the tournament unfold with great interest. All the matches had been extremely exciting, managing to get the onlookers' blood boiling. Lloyd Irving, however, was not excited in the least. In fact, he had quickly grown quite bored. It only dawned on him just recently that his match was coming up tomorrow. And he was terrified.

"Nope, nope, nope. I won't go out there. Can't make me. Uh-uh," said Lloyd, gripping the bar so tight that his knuckles were white.

"Lloyd, what's wrong with you?" Kratos questioned as he put a half-comforting, half-authoritative hand on the young swordsman's shoulder. "What is that you're afraid of? It's certainly not Albert Wesker. You and I both know that Mithos was much worse than anything Wesker could pull off."

Lloyd turned to him, releasing his death grip on the edge of the table slightly, and replied, "Kratos, it's...it's not that I'm afraid of Wesker..." He trailed off as he seemed to lose confidence in the very words he was saying.

"Lloyd, just calm down for a minute, and tell me what's bothering you. I realize that I can only be so comforting to you, but you need to talk right now, because you're being ridiculous."

The overalls-clad warrior turned to Kratos with a pseudo-menacing look, and jokingly replied, "You jerk. Anyway, I think it's...I...it's just that I don't wanna go out there and make a fool out of myself in front of everyone. It's not like I fight every day back home anymore, you know."

Kratos sighed. "Stage fright, is it?"

"No…well, yeah…I dunno," Lloyd cried out, exasperated. "But the thought of me getting out there and doing something stupid. They'd all just laugh at me."

"Yeah, they will," Kratos said, confirming Lloyd's worst fears. "But when have you ever cared what other people think?"

"Since today!" Lloyd screamed, almost reaching hysterics.

"What seems to be the problem?" a new voice asked, as it made its way into the father-son chat.

"This idiot is throwing a fit because he's worried he'll mess up out there and everyone will laugh at him," Kratos answered. "And I don't believe anyone asked you to join in our private conversation here."

"I couldn't care less," countered Riku. "But when you talk so loud that practically the whole city can hear you, it shouldn't be a surprise that someone else wants to know what's going on."

"I can't do it!" Lloyd wailed.

"Hey, guys, keep it down over there!" the bartender yelled, apparently disrupted both by Lloyd's wailing and Kratos' heated discussion with Riku.

"Ooh, sorry to disrupt you from your intense job of cleaning glasses, I'll remember to get agitated quieter next time!" Riku jeered back to him. The bartender ignored the sarcastic comment and strode over to the source of the commotion.

"Hey, boy, what's your problem?" he asked, not in the kindest of terms.

Lloyd looked up at him, put his head back into his hands and wailed some more nonsensical ideas about not being able to do it and other sorts of gibberish.

Kratos kindly stepped in to Lloyd's aid and replied to the bartender, "He's just a little nervous, that's all." The finality of his tone seemed to imply that he would like the bartender to leave them be, but the man didn't catch on to that wish, apparently.

He continued to ask idiotic questions, which included some terrible advice, such as, "Maybe you should just imagine everyone in their underwear," and other equally moronic statements. Kratos finally spoke to Lloyd, grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up.

"Hey, whoa wait, what the hell are you doing, Kratos?" he asked, wildly thrashing around in the iron grip of the Seraphim.

"I'm taking you into the corner to beat some sense into you." He tossed Lloyd into the corner and knelt down, looking him straight into the eye. "Listen to me. Imagine the anger you had when you found out that the Desians were the cause of everything wrong in your life. Imagine again the hate that flowed through you and gave you reason to fight them. Imagine that tomorrow, and you will be no one's fool. Trust me, Lloyd."

"Well, OK, Kratos, if you say so," Lloyd resigned. "I'll…I'll do that."

"That's my boy," the angel said, forcing the smile that was creeping up on his face from getting too out of hand.

"Lloyd, we all have our secrets and demons," Riku said, once again bringing himself close to the two. "It's up to us to keep them in check and sometimes use them to our advantage."

"You seem so calm, though. I can't imagine you having any problems," Lloyd observed.

"You couldn't be farther from the truth. My heart is filled with darkness. I can accept that now. I've just learned to control it, is all. Never again will it get the best of me, that I swear."

"OK, it's time for you to get some rest," Kratos ordered. "A good night's sleep will do you good, Lloyd. In the morning you'll be able to put all this silly worrying behind you. I'm sure of it."

"Alright," Lloyd said, sheepishly. "Night Riku. Night everyone!" He then hurried off back to the hotel.

"Like father, like son," Riku laughed.

"Oh, shut up," said Kratos, a scowl on his face.

---------

Albert Wesker had been waiting in the hotel's lobby for the better part of an hour, but it made no difference to him. He'd wait there until morning if he had to. Impatience was a fault of the weak and Wesker was anything but weak.

'He'll come eventually,' Wesker thought. 'I know he went to the Soldier's Spirit. Just a matter of time.'

The former STARS officer's patience was rewarded when the jittery swordsman bounded through the door. He looked a bit paler than Wesker remembered, but this didn't concern him in the slightest. It was a merely an observation that the man added to his already huge internal catalogue of facts and figures.

"Lloyd!" Wesker called out, faking a smile. "You look like you've seen a ghost, m'boy!"

"Oh, yeah…" Lloyd began, his eyes darting around the room. "Wesker right? Hey…I fight you tomorrow!"

"Yeah, but why should that get between us?" Wesker chuckled. "I just came down to have a little drink and wish you good luck."

"Oh, thanks!" Lloyd exclaimed, his face beaming. "Hey, I promise to go easy on you tomorrow!"

"I'm sure you will," Wesker said. "Put 'er there!" He then thrust his hand out at the youth, hoping for a good shake.

Lloyd obliged and enthusiastically gripped Wesker's outstretched hand. Suddenly, his pupils dilated and he pulled his hand back in shock.

"Ouch!" he whined. "Something stuck me!"

"Really?" Wesker asked, feigning ignorance. He then stuck out his own hand. "My, my, look at these nails. I really should cut them. I'm starting to resemble a cat. Quite sorry about that."

"It's nothing," Lloyd shrugged. "It's not like you meant anything by it. Well, I'm off to bed!" He then hurried off to the elevator.

"But what if I did mean something by it?" Wesker whispered to himself, his face creeping into a sinister smile. "What then?" The bioengineer then laughed to himself as he flung something small and silver at a nearby plant. It was a needle no bigger than a safety pin.

"I do so love guinea pigs," the sinister man breathed. "Especially when they're as dumb as you are. Then I don't have to feel so bad about keeping certain traits out of the gene pool." With that, the man calmly headed for the stairs, which would lead him back to his own room.

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The next morning, Lloyd dragged himself out of bed, woozy, yet feeling better about the impending battle. He looked at the flashing green light reading 9:30 and shook himself awake, while slamming his left hand down on the device, stopping the excruciating beeping noise from continuing.

Pulling on his scabbard, he picked up his two Material Blades. Staring back at him were the two swords, the greatest work of his dwarven adopted father. One was a bright shining red, the other a fiercely glowing blue.

"Both of my Dads have helped me so much along the way. On my quest of revenge against the Desians, on the quest to stop Mithos, and even just getting around in my life," Lloyd reminisced to himself. "But today, I'm on my own. I'm facing Wesker all by myself, and no one will be there to help me."

Lloyd sank to his knees, fleetingly questioning his ability to continue as he had done the night before. But he recalled Kratos' words to him in the bar. He remembered his advice and took it to heart, recreating the pain and anguish that flooded throughout his body when he discovered that the Desians had transformed his mother into a horrendous beast. He recreated that anger in his mind, the fury that swept over him while fighting Kvar and Magnius.

"I will destroy Wesker. I have to!" he exclaimed to no one in particular. With that, he gathered his belongings and headed out the door.

--------

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the fourth day of action, as we wrap up the exciting Mushroom Division!" the announcer excitedly proclaimed as the crowds filed into the enormous stadium, ready for the battle to come.

"Today, fans, we have the second seeded Lloyd Irving facing off against the seventh seeded Albert Wesker! Seeding be damned, we should have a fantastic match on our hands!"

The stone-faced Wesker already stood at his place on the cool stone flooring, observing his surroundings. Nothing could go wrong, especially not after his little "gift" to Lloyd was ready.

A few minutes before the scheduled beginning of the match, Lloyd lumbered out of his locker room door and into the fresh air of the arena. Thousands of cheering and screaming fans awaited his impending arrival, and almost immediately Lloyd felt sick to his stomach. 'I can't do this! I can't do this!' he thought, panicked.

High up in his place in the stands, Kratos looked worriedly at the young swordsman. "Oh no," he said to himself, "it's happening again. Be strong, Lloyd."

Before Lloyd had a chance to turn and run away, the booming announcer roared into his microphone, "Lloyd Irving has arrived, ladies and gentlemen!"

Lloyd looked up at the stony visage of Wesker and took in a deep breath. 'It'll all be okay. Just remember what Kratos said, it'll all be fine,' he thought to himself.

"As the lower seed in today's match, Albert Wesker will have the opportunity to choose today's terrain. Wesker, make your choice and report it to the Champions."

For a long time, Wesker made no impression that he had even heard the announcer. Finally, he slowly inched his head to the left, as if counting the squares of stone on the floor of the arena. When he reached the farthest point he could turn his neck, he began to slowly turn it over to the right side. After he had his fill of the right side of the arena, he began a slow, yet determined, step towards the Champions' table.

When he reached it, a beaming Cloud looked up at him and awaited his response. His huge smile faded the longer Wesker took to decide. Eventually, Wesker calmly spoke, "There will be no necessary changes in the arena terrain. This will do. Besides, this won't take long." With that, he walked back and resumed his previous position.

Cloud frowned after him, but turned to the technical director, who was puzzled by Wesker's decision, yet obeyed, and relayed the message to the announcer's booth.

"Not short of confidence, ladies and gentlemen, Wesker has elected to leave the terrain the flat stony surface that it is! This should be good!" the announcer exclaimed once more.

Cloud motioned Lloyd to pick a side, who quickly chose the one closest to the Champions' table. With that, a large bell rang to signify the beginning of the match.

'I have to get this started quickly and end it quickly,' Lloyd thought to himself as he drew the Material Blades and rushed at Wesker, who simply stood still.

Lloyd brought one blade crashing through the air, yet found nothing but air as Wesker deftly dodged his strike and ducked underneath the second sword, which also whistled harmlessly overhead. He made a final dodge as he jumped over the slash of both at the same time.

Upon landing, Wesker connected his palm straight into Lloyd's chest, thrusting him back. "You're going to have to do better than that, boy!" he jeered as Lloyd nursed his sternum.

"Take this, Wesker!" the swordsman clad in red exclaimed as he rushed once more, this time feigning a strike with one sword which Wesker began to dodge before he timed the second sword to be right where Wesker came to rest, and he aimed true. After the first strike found flesh, Lloyd immediately erupted into a flurry of sword strikes, jabbing Wesker at least fifteen times before the bio scientist was able to put an end to the strikes.

"Like it, buddy?" It was Lloyd's turn to jeer. "I call that my Sword Rain. I got another one for you too, so come and get it!"

Wesker, the stony expression on his face as if it was carved from a glacier, began a sprint towards Lloyd, raising one arm back as if to land a crushing punch to his opponent's face. Instead of following through with his apparent attack, Wesker surprised the swordsman by bringing his opposite leg up and crashing it into Lloyd's ribs. The youth rolled with the impact and landed back on his feet, gasping for air and clutching the side of his chest.

Wesker wasted no time in continuing his strikes, and suddenly Lloyd was doubled over in pain. 'Must be feeling the effects pretty bad. Poor kid,' Wesker thought, as he prepared to level Lloyd. He never got that far, however, as Lloyd drove his shoulder into Wesker's stomach and with a cry of the word, "Beast!" erupted the man backwards. The former STARS officer spun through the air and landing face-first on the hard ground.

Very calmly, the man pushed himself to his feet, seemingly unfazed. There was some mark of damage, though. Wesker's trademark sunglasses, the ones he had been wearing ever since he had arrived at the tournament, were broken. One lens was completely obliterated and Lloyd could see the man's stunning yellow cat eye staring right back at him. Wesker put one hand up to his sunglasses and, after confirming they were indeed broken, took them off and threw them against one of the arena's walls.

A scowled spilled over Wesker's face as Lloyd hardly heard him whisper, "That…was pretty good, kid. But no more."

Lloyd suddenly felt his body jerk uncontrollably as he struggled to hold on to his swords. Every time he thought the spasms would calm down he was proved wrong as his body danced around as if in some macabre ballet. Lloyd was terrified as the crowd didn't know what to make of this.

"Why…can't…I…move…?" Lloyd croaked.

"Oh, that?" Wesker replied, completely in control. "Remember that little prick you felt when we shook hands the other night? You probably don't, seeing as how stupid you are, but I'll tell you more anyways. I injected you with a bit of my experimental T-virus. Oh no, don't worry, it won't make you sick. It just makes sure that I can control your nerves. And right now, I want them to make you dance."

Lloyd involuntarily dropped his swords and began prancing around like a little child. Wesker just stared at the young man as the crowd found this extremely amusing. They began to take all this in and laugh, further increasing Lloyd's terror.

"You monster," Kratos muttered underneath his breath. "Just get it over with if you want to beat him already. Don't humiliate him, though. No one deserves that."

After a minute or two more of these idiotic movements, Lloyd came to a stop. He slowly was inching his way closer to his dropped weapons. Wesker observed this with an expressionless mask.

"Trying to fight the effects, hmmm? No matter. You have no chance."

Lloyd's hand was shaking as it reached out for one the Material Blades.

"Come to me," Wesker ordered the swordsman, as he cracked his knuckles. Still under the T-virus' influence, Lloyd was forced to obey as his feet betrayed him.

Wesker wasted no time in delivering a hard right hook to Lloyd's face. Before his opponent could fall down, Wesker grabbed him and brought his knee up into Lloyd's stomach. He then picked him up and threw him down hard.

Lloyd was wheezing for air as Wesker lifted up his foot and brought it down on the youth's breastbone. He moaned in pain as the sinister man sat his knees down on Lloyd's already strained ribs and proceeded to alternate punches to his face, determined to knock him out. Finally, the youth stopped moving as Wesker halted his assault.

"There, it's over," Wesker said.

"No…it can't be," Kratos said, sorrow in his voice.

'Am I…am I dead?' Lloyd asked himself. All around him was pure, white light. Nothing else was in this barren place.

"The medical team might want to have a look at him," Wesker said, as he turned and faced a stern-faced Cloud.

"Get up, Lloyd. Get. Up," Kratos said, hoping that his son could somehow hear him.

'No, I'm not dead,' Lloyd said to the light. 'But I have been beaten. How could this happen?'

"Stop this, Lloyd!" Kratos yelled at the boy's prone form. "Stop playing around. This isn't a game!"

'But I can't beat him with this virus in me,' Lloyd told the light. 'He'll just force me to stand still as he punches me again. After all I've done for my world…how could this be the end of me?"

"Hold on, sir," the operator said to Cloud. "The boy appears to be moving a little." Cloud squinted his eyes and he could just see a shudder running through the swordsman's form.

"Spoke too soon, Wesker," Link said, as he rolled his eyes.

"A problem I will soon remedy," Wesker explained, as he slowly marched back over to Lloyd.

'You say you'll help me?' Lloyd asked the light. 'Give me your power? Then please! I have to show my father that I am not weak.'

As Wesker was walking toward the body it suddenly began to pulse with a radiant white light. The bioengineer looked quizzically at the power that was now coursing through Lloyd's veins. He was even more surprised when the young man got up and grabbed his swords.

"Stand down, boy!" Wesker yelled at him. "You'll do what I say, when I say!"

"I don't think so," Lloyd said, in a cold tone. "And don't call me 'boy'. You're NOT my father."

"That's my boy," Kratos smiled to himself. "Now give him heaven."

Everything appeared to Lloyd as if he were looking down a well, like the world was miles away. The thunderous crowd had never been louder at the sight of the brilliant angelic wings that had appeared, glowing blue and shining in the bright sunlight. Lloyd was completely at ease, as the feelings of fear that had scared him so badly earlier were gone.

The colorful stadium and bright blue sky may as well have been a blank canvas, featureless and unpainted, to Lloyd. All he could see through his blinding rage was Wesker. The tall figure that looked as if he had been carved from rock was all that mattered to the angelic figure at the moment.

'He made a fool of me, tried to beat me down by humiliating and controlling me, by hiding behind his T-virus. He's done this before, I can tell.' Lloyd stood up straight, staring at his adversary. He knew that Wesker would not try anything rash, as he was a calculating man and wouldn't attack without knowing what he was up against.

'Wesker is an evil man, who wishes harm on others without reason. He isn't even sacrificing for a cause, like Mithos or the Desians. All he wants to do is cause strife for the joy of it. I cannot allow that to happen,' Lloyd told himself, as he crystallized his intentions and brought himself out of his reverie.

"Wesker, I cannot allow this to go on any further," he simply stated, determination in his voice.

Lloyd spread his gigantic wings and gave them a might flap, hovering a foot or so above the ground. He drew the Material Blades once more and sent himself flying right at Wesker with his angelic power.

Wesker managed to throw himself out of the way of Lloyd's furious strike, but he couldn't dodge the successive blows that followed. The last thing he heard before the pain of fire and ice blinded him was his opponent's cry of "Fierce Demon Fang!"

His body badly mangled from the flame and frost, Wesker finally realized that Lloyd was infused with the power of some sort of spiritual being and was being driven by rage, a very dangerous combination.

'I am a mere man of science,' Wesker thought to himself. 'Angels and devils are not for people like myself to be concerned with. This is something that would be better handled in the realm of philosophers.'

In a last ditch effort, he reached out with his power and once again tried to take control of Lloyd with the modified T-virus. His efforts were in vain, as the immense power surrounding the swordsman totally blocked Wesker's efforts. Something about his holy appearance blocked the T-virus, and when it failed, Wesker knew he was done for.

Lloyd decided that he should finish things off quickly, and flapped his wings hard, rising high into the air. He then gathered all of his energy behind him and propelled himself at Wesker. The ever-emotionless figure simply stood there, as he had totally resigned himself to his fate. Without a sound, Wesker was impaled straight through by the two Material Blades. The swords went through his stomach and out his back, leaving a huge gaping hole and snapping his spine in the process.

Wesker locked eyes with the youth, a stunned expression on his normally impassive face, then fell to the ground, twitching. Lloyd pulled the blades out of Wesker, drenched with blood, and stood staring at the once honorable S.T.A.R.S. captain, who was now burned, bloody, and motionless. He looked less like a man than he ever had. His body was horribly mutilated from the burns and frostbitten marks that now adorned it, causing him to resemble a corpse rather than a man.

"Evil will always persist. I've learned that now, but I've never seen someone who's as ruthless as this man," Lloyd said to himself, as he turned his head from the horrifying figure, his immense rage finally subsiding. He began to walk over to Cloud when he heard a harsh scraping sound.

It was Wesker. Now no more than a disgusting chunk of flesh, his opponent was weakly scratching at the stone floor, pulling himself closer to Lloyd using only his fingertips. He had a deranged look in those yellow eyes of his as they were fixated on Lloyd's ankles.

"Still…not…over…" Wesker managed to say, his voice raspy and rough on the ears. "The…immortal…can't…die…"

Lloyd observed the scene with a look bordering on pity. After watching the man drag himself another few inches, he could stand it no longer. Lloyd picked his foot up over his head and in one smooth motion brought it down hard on the middle of Wesker's back. There was a groaning sound as the stone floor gave way, burying most of Wesker underneath a foot of rock. Wesker's hands still twitched, but he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

The judges conversed among themselves for a while. It seemed Sephiroth and Cloud were in the middle of some heated argument. Link waited for the voices to reach a more normal level before stating his own opinion. Begrudgingly, Sephiroth nodded and Cloud leaned back and whispered something to the announcer.

"And it seems that the judges have made a ruling!" The announcer cried. "By a unanimous decision, Lloyd Irving is the winner of today's match!"

The crowd cheered for the swordsman, as his angelic power began withdrawing inside of him once more. He meekly waved to the roaring crowd. Although he might not ever completely get over his stage fright, at least he was making progress. Kratos just nodded. He couldn't have been more proud of the boy.

-------

"You failed," Sephiroth said to the ravaged body, malice in his voice. "Even after I allowed you access to the lab here to continue your work, you still failed me."

"Spiritual…power…too…great…" Wesker croaked.

"Oh, can it," Sephiroth spat. "I don't care what happened. All I know is that his soul should have been mine. Coming out of this division I will end up at a complete disadvantage to the other two."

"It…seems…you…failed…" Wesker weakly smiled. Suddenly the man arched his head back as something translucent seemed to leave his body and float off somewhere.

"He now has your soul," Sephiroth observed. "It will probably be used in the pursuit of something 'noble' or 'kind'. I know the feeling will be an eternal agony and punishment to your twisted spirit, but you deserve worse. All things considered, I'd say you got off easy."

Wesker only moaned, as a vacant look had entered his eyes. He was still alive, if you could call that twisted existence he lead a life, but there was something missing. The mangled body had no more purpose any more. It was merely there.

"Irene," Sephiroth spoke into the intercom.

"Yes, sir," a contra-alto voice answered back.

"Please come to retrieve Mr. Wesker" instructed Sephiroth. "Our medical facility can do no more for him here. Send him through the portal to his own dimension, whether they want him back or not."

"Yes, sir," Irene said obediently.

Sephiroth didn't wait for the girl to arrive. He merely left the room, brooding to himself. 'Only four days into this tournament and already I fall behind. This is quite unacceptable. If this keeps up any longer I might have to take a more active hand in the proceedings.' He then stormed out of the medical area, heading back to his hotel suite to devise a plan that actually had a chance of succeeding.