Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the concepts of the Xenosaga games. I'm just playing with them, and then I'll put them back in their boxes, Mommy, I promise. I'm making no profit out of this story, and if you sue me, you'll only get a few lint balls. I wouldn't bother with it, really.

I do own this story, and plagurizing it would make you a sad, sad, creepy little person. It'd also make me angry, and I bite. So save yourself some rabies shots and don't even try to nick it, okay?

Currently unbeta-ed. If you'd like to volunteer for the position I'd love you forever.

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Shion Uzuki was lost.

Panting, sobbing, she ran through the streets of Miltia. Everywhere, there was slaughter. Flashes of blood and watery, thin forms through the stampede of the crowd were all she could see. "Please," she latched on to the sleeve of the nearest person, "help Feb!" No one even looked at her. No matter how she yelled, or how desperately she grasped onto anything in her reach, no one listened. Shion turned to go back to the place she had last seen her caretaker, but she was pulled away by the tide of the crowd, feet sliding awkwardly on a mixture of blood, rubble, and salt. "No!" she screamed, flailing frantically to try and break free. "Jin! Feb! Feb! I have to help them! Stop it! I have to go back!"

Arms caught her around her middle, lifting her up securely, carrying her further and further away, "Stop!"

Shion stumbled free of the suddenly lax hold, her crying quieting in the frozen grey wasteland of her early memory. "I hate this..." she whispered brokenly as she knelt in the wreckage of her old home, "this stupid dream."

"This was the beginning, Shion... this was the first wave."

"Nephilim," Shion sighed, feeling guilty over her sudden wish that the luminous, mysterious girl had never appeared to her. She closed her eyes wordlessly.

"Shion," Nephilim's voice was sad and tender. She placed pale, shining fingers against Shion's hair lightly, as if in benediction. "The path is difficult, I know. You have suffered so much... But the wave... The wave is building again. It will engulf you all, and spiral out of control if you let it."

Shion's eyes had opened, startled at the touch, and watched the melancholy spectre. "Nephilim... what are you?"

Nephilim's lips curved in the barest of smiles. "I am of the wave. A part, and yet apart."

The brunette frowned. "What? Can't you just tell me?" she burst out, frustrated. "I'm so tired of all of this." She pushed away from the girl angrily. "I never asked for this! Haven't I done enough? Haven't I hurt enough?" Shion clutched her arms against herself protectively.

Nephilim left her hand extended, ageless eyes fixed on Shion's face. "You do not bear this cross alone, Shion.. the answers are waiting for you. All you need are the questions."

Tears tracked slowly down Shion's cheeks. "Why me? Out of everyone else... why me?"

"You are blessed among women," the shining apparition whispered comfortingly, brushing away the tears soothingly. "And very much beloved."

Shion blinked, startled. "What?"

Nephilim gave her that same enigmatic smile she had before. "Rest now... the time of peace is short, and you all need it so.."

"But--!"

Shion shot up in her bed. For a moment, she stared around, confused. As the sounds of the Second Miltian night permeated her senses, Shion sighed. "Tommorrow, I'm looking through Jin's damn books and finding a dream guide." She rolled over on her side, snuggling back into the comfort of her futon. "Stupid cryptic portents," she muttered sleepily.