The Valentine Chronicles

Episode 6 - North

I had adopted a rather dangerous habit.

As a rule, raw Turk recruits were encouraged to chew a certain amount of gunpowder as part of their regimen. It focused us, deluded us, glorified the killing. It addicted us to death, and to the many ways of bringing it about.

Relapses were fairly common.

I'd been working for Hojo around three months, at this point. Reclassified as a J-level agent, whatever that meant, I'd run a series of odd jobs around the frozen northern continent. It was there, shivering in the flimsy field tents in below freezing weather, that I'd taken to the powder again. It numbed the senses, exposing one instead to a giant cacophony of hallucinated realities. All of them were vicious, and all of them were glorious. Shrouded in these dim visions of magnificent carnage, I scarcely noticed the jagged wind piercing my flesh. I accepted it unto myself, as glad payment for the visions I'd been granted by the powder.

It was here, I believe, that time first began to blur for me. Days would melt into each other, a single night would stretch on and on and suddenly six months would have passed, and I'm at a ceremony, honoring my induction as a J-Classified Special Agent. I gaze, bewildered, at my various so-called "friends, colleagues, and admirers" as Dr. Simon Hojo proudly tells of my heroic service on the northern continent.

I accept the handshake of a starry-eyed young man, who tells me his great ambition in life is to become my partner.

But this is simply my condition, not my story. I write these accounts largely for myself; to record and remember my humanity, even in the face of increasing doubt. I will write it now, to remind myself. I am Vincent Valentine, and I am a human being.

I have been sent back to the north. I am to meet the true leader of the program. Professor Gast.

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My chopper sets down lightly on a bleak, snow-covered rise. Barely visible through the falling snow are the steadily blinking lights that represent Shinra Corporation Holding No. 33. Four bluesuits escort me through the double-barred main gate and into the underground facility. The guards are extremely well armed; K42's, concussion grenades, vibroblades. I nod appreciatively at one guard's weaponry and get a furtive thumbs up in return…crack troops or not, these were just kids.

A time may come to make use of that information.

I'm ushered into an office, pushed gently into a chair. Across from me stands an old man, gaunt but by no means crippled. He looks at me and I se deep, calculated intelligence in his eyes.

"I am Professor Gast, Agent Valentine. Thank you for joining me."

He tells me about the Jenova Project.

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At this point in the story, I find it easiest to give you my journal entries, penned hastily over these four months. As my time for writing these accounts grows perilously short, I find it best to cut corners whenever possible.

Sept 12

I'm writing this stuff from my pup tent, pitched under the naked beauty of the stars over these snow-blown plains. My destination has at long last been revealed to me; the Northern Crater, perpetual spawn of story and legend. My orders are: secure a small cave on the south side of a ridge, deep down inside the crater itself. I am to hold the cave until reinforcement.

Although I requested only my standard issue, Shinra has nevertheless gifted me with some interesting little toys. Two shining handguns, large-calibur and all in black, have been requisitioned for me from the latest in Shinra labs on level 38. The bullets, I'm told, are armor-piercing and extremely high velocity.

It so, so goddamned cold out here. I will probably need the powder tonight.

Sept 14

Camped out on a high rise, just overlooking the target cave. Eight hours standard march should do it.

Tried the guns out for the first time today. I'd tracked a herd of bison and finally had a clear shot at one, crouched in some underbrush. He ambled by and I put a bullet in his brain - accept he didn't just go down, his head exploded into an expanding sphere of buffalo brain. These guns…what are they expecting me to run into?

Will definitely need the powder again tonight.

Sept 14

They tried to take me tonight.

Four in total, two on each side. They approach me cautiously - almost fearfully. Their assault rifles are trained on me but I can tell they aren't prepared to fire, aren't ready to fire. These aren't soldiers, these are…idealists.

Their leader comes over and pokes me sharply with his rifle. I roll over, feign a sleepy awakening and focus blearily on the soldier. I mime shock. Hands go up; everthing utterly expected, utterly classic.

He actually turns away from me as he fumbles for his handcuffs. The three others exchange nervous grins - We did it, their faces say. We took him down! If only they knew.

My hands, which had been gently acquiring leverage this whole time, catapult me off my back. I lock my legs together and focus my attack, and the leader screams in agony as I shatter his kneecap. I rebound, roll backwards, and slam my elbow into a panicking second guard. As he keels, his intestines shattered, I grab his rifle and roll sideways just as the remaining two guards open fire. I brace along one knee and fire, two three-bullet bursts. The guards fall.

It was the powder that saved me, of course. I will take more tomorrow.

Sept 15 (morning)

I was afraid of this.

I knew I shouldn't have gone back to that devilish powder. I tell myself I'm past its effects, I'm no longer addicted…dammit! You have to understand, all of that nonsense about getting attacked in the night, four mercs with assault rifles…it's bullshit! I didn't wake up surrounded by bodies, I don't have blood on me…it's just the powder, it makes you see things, it makes you believe things.

I've decided to throw all my spare gunpowder out, as a precaution. I'll have to make due with my current payload.

I'm about two hours out from the cave. I'll confirm my arrival shortly.

Sept 15 (evening)

Made it. I'm now stationed in the tent, and the cave mercifully cuts off most of the wind. It's a weird place, even for something J-related - green lights pulse out of cracks in the rock, different emerald veins spider webbing towards a central core. The longer you're in there, the more your head aches.

I'm trying to cook my dinner, but for some reason I can't get a fire started in the cave…the walls just suck the life out of things. Could really do with some way to keep warm. But I'll have to do without.

I'm going to bed.

Sept 15

They'll come for me tonight, of course. They think after last night I'll be tired. Unwary. Just wait 'til they come.

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Sept 16

I have awoken to find myself in a graveyard. No fewer than eleven corpses surrounded me, nearly all obliterated by some weapon which rivals an anti-aircraft gun.

I have since checked my ammo count. Twelve cartridges have been fired. I can no longer deny what is happening to me.

I do not think I will write anymore.

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This marks the end of my unfortunately short-lived journal. I resume my initial narrative:

My "reinforcements" did indeed come for me, three days later.

It came in the form of a Dr. Simon Hojo, who examined the cave and declared it the cornerstone for a new age of mankind.

It also came in the form of Lucrecia, my sweet Lucrecia, who gazed at that alien green illumination with undisguised desire. Its emerald light twinkled fiercely at her and was answered by the fire in her eyes. I have often thought, in looking back, that she never looked as beautiful as she did at that moment.