In no way, shape or form do I take credit for creation or ownership of the Final Fantasy series. That is the property of Square-Enix.
I fear for the young girl after watching him slide further and further into the insanity that has wracked his mind since the day of his augmentment experiment. I have greatly considered telling the emperor that the process is simply not safe; that the chances of perfecting such a procedure are slim enough to warrant stopping the program altogether. However, I fear in my heart that the reply would be a simple answer on the ends of those above me; to take the study out of my hands, release me from the service of the Empire, and to continue studies with the girl as soon as possible.
It is because of this that I must continue my work; I must toil away to discover the secrets to safely augmenting a human being with the power of an esper, lest she lose her humanity as well, to protect her from going mad as her predecessor has. The Emperor is pleased with Kefka, for now; he nurtures the madness spinning through his head. He sees not the evil that will sprout forth from that young man if given the chance, only the power – the raw, surging power that he possesses with ease. If given the chance, they would do the same thing to her, but I can never let that happen. This is why I will continue my work, continue to sully my soul with this sin of stealing life from these poor caged creatures, sentient beings much like ourselves who do not desire the horrid bloodshed that we cultivate. By keeping this blood on my hands, by forfeiting my own soul to suffer, perhaps I can protect hers, save her from losing herself to the mindless inhuman power that would threaten to overtake her if given the chance.
She is still so young, still only a child, yet she has become so adult-like in her manner. She is cold and refined, adept with a blade, and takes orders willingly like a true soldier. She is a girl of 12, she should not be as she is at all. She should run free and careless through fields with swinging braids behind her, should gather wildflowers, should learn to cook and sew from a caring mother, should giggle with friends over which young lads they fancy. She should have friends. She should have a childhood.
She should still remember how to smile.
With these things already taken from her, the most I can give to her is the promise of sanity, so that she can survive these coming times of evil, that she might be able to pick up the pieces of her life after it is all said and done. However, this will be done at the cost of my own shattered soul, by taking the pain of the Espers – peaceloving magical beings – and keeping it inside myself; sheltering her from the searing pain that has gripped Kefka's mind and is now tearing it into pieces.
If this will allow her to live her own life as she chooses, to let her keep herself through the augmenting process and training that will follow, than I would gladly do it a thousand times over – she is too precious to let such harm come to her. Even as I write this, she slumbers soundlessly beside me on a cot in my lab, her sweet elfin childlike features drawn and serious even in sleep. She does not shift in her sleep, does not have a security blanked or stuffed animal, does nothing but lie still, much like the trained warrior she is trying hard to become for the Emperor. She does everything she is told, a mindless soldier-drone for the Emperor to toy with at his will. Someday, once my work has been completed, she will become stronger than the powers that bind her to this Empire; this is my one true hope for her.
That someday, she will realize how wrong the Empire is and will be able to come free from it unscathed, that she will be able to live as a normal woman, and that she will forgive me for the sins I have piled upon my soul in guarding hers.