This Bitter Earth
He was walking down the empty hallway towards his office. The sound of his knee-high leather boots hitting the white, tiled floor echoed in the hall. In his right hand, he carried a file that was delivered to him by his secretary. It was a report of the Sector Three bombing. He needed to review it and determine if there were any discrepancies among the witnesses testimonies.
In his left hand, he carried his sword, Masamune. It was a six foot long sword that lightly curved at the end. The Masamune, named after its creator, was feared throughout the world. The sword was so strong and powerful that no man on the Planet could wield the sword. No one except the man who carried it proudly down the hall.
After a seemingly endless walk down the hall, the man stopped just outside a door. He heard a pounding noise inside his head. He thought it odd and took a moment to contemplate this unusual occurrence, but before he couldn't even conjure up a single thought, he found himself leaning against the door for support as the soft, pounding noise gradually built up until it became almost unbearably painful. It was almost as if someone was trapped inside his head and was banging the inside of his skull in a desperate attempt to escape. It took almost every once of will power he had not to scream out in agony. There were, after all, appearances to be kept. Instead of screaming, he merely closed his eyes and thought of things that made him happy. Unfortunately, not many things made him happy.
Just when he thought he might go mad from the pain, he heard her voice and the headache lost some, but not all, of its intensity. He took a deep, calming breath and focused on nothing but the voice. Even though the whisper came from inside his head, he felt as if she was standing right next to him. He could have sworn he felt her hot breathe on his neck and that could feel the warmth from her hand touching his shoulder. However, he was alone in the hallway and knew he was imagining things.
Soon.
Soon?
The Destruction.
I beg your pardon.
Slayer of souls... murderer of the angels. My son, you are destined to bring forth The Destruction.
What if I don't want to?
You were created for the soul purpose of The Destruction.
And that's when he saw it. He saw nothing but darkness. Goose bumps covered his arms as a sudden panic started building up inside of him. The inky blackness was alive. It was a living, breathing thing and though he could not see, he could feel the monster reaching out with its sharp claws. It did not wish to destroy him physically, but spiritually. It wanted his soul and it would rip his body apart piece by piece until it had his soul in its claws. Then it would lick his soul - hold and cherish it as if it were a new born before sinking its canine teeth into his soul and devouring it.
And then, he would simply stop existing. There would be nothing at all he realized. He found this difficult to imagine though. The brain is not able to comprehend nothing. The concept of nothing is illogical, but at the same time so very real and terrifying.
"It's so dark," he shouted, but no sound came from his lips. His eyes widened and the glow intensified as he realized he had no voice. There was nothing in the darkness. No sound. No light. Nothing. It was then he noticed he no longer carried his sword. He did not have a hand to carry his sword with. His breathing would have been frantic, but he had no breath. In fact, he had no body. The darkness was devouring him in order to reach the most cherished, the most sacred part of his humanity. Suddenly, he found himself starved for the light. But it didn't matter anymore because he no longer had eyes to the see the light with.
La luce non può esistere nella nerezza.
He heard that same enchanting voice that always haunted his dreams. A thought suddenly struck him. Was this all a dream?
"Wake up!"
Obediently, he opened his eyes and did nothing more than frown at the sight before him. Bodies upon bodies were piled in giant heaps, all screaming in pain. He was pretty sure that he was in Midgar; only, everything was destroyed. The ground was covered in blood and the great Shinra Building no longer stood as it was now nothing more than a giant ball of twisted metal. Cars were overturned. Houses burned and buildings collapsed around him. The fire spread quickly, jumping out sporadically to lick at his pale skin. The heat of the flames were nearly unbearable. The black smoke was thick and he knew should have had trouble breathing; that he should be on the bloody ground gasping for breath, but he alone was untouched by the mayhem.
"This is odd," he murmured to himself.
He thought that such a sight would sicken him, make him tremble in fright, but it didn't. He was indifferent to it all. Nothing mattered to him.
"Am I alone?" he asked.
"Ogni uomo è un'isola; ci leviamo in piedi da solo. Sephiroth?"
Sephiroth spun around, searching for the voice. It was not her voice; the voice he would give his soul too, but another voice. This voice sounded like bells playing a heavenly melody. "Who are you?"
"Behind you. Up here."
Sephiroth turned around. Where there was once nothing but fire was now the largest mound of bodies, all thrown carelessly into a heap. Sitting on top on the giant mound of screaming bodies was a naked girl or woman. Maybe she was both. Maybe she was neither. Sephiroth could not tell. In any case, she was there and she too seemed untouched by the mayhem. She sat with her knees drawn up to her chin and her arms wrapped protectively around her long legs. Her long, chestnut brown hair was kept secured in a ponytail that fell past her waist. Long bangs hid her eyes. Her skin was pale and flawless. She looked very delicate and seemed totally out of place in this nightmare. He noticed that she had white wings that kept fading in and out.
"Are you real?" Sephiroth asked.
"Yes. I am," the girl-woman sighed, as if she had already been through this before and was becoming bored. "At least, I think I am. Therefore, I am."
"Where am I?"
The girl-woman laughed as if this was the funniest thing she'd heard that day. "It's a possible future that you will create."
"Me? How?" Sephiroth asked, frowning as a little boy's head rolled towards his foot. His mouth was open, forming an "O" and his eyes were wide with fright. Sephiroth kicked the head away from him. He regretted doing that because the stench of death suddenly rose to meet his nose. He took a step forward towards the mound of screaming bodies, but immediately stopped as he heard a loud crack. He looked down and saw that he had stepped on someone's skull. It's haunting grin and accusing stare sent shivers down his spine. Sephiroth looked up at the girl. "This is terrible."
"But you did it."
"No, I didn't," Sephiroth protested, "This is all a dream."
"Not a dream, but a vision of a future you will create. She seeks out The Destroyers."
"The Destroyers?"
"The ones destined to destroy worlds," the girl sighed. "She's free from her prison now, but I'm still trapped in mine. Can you find me?"
Sephiroth ran a hand through his silver hair. He briefly went over everything had for breakfast: orange juice, two slices of toast with a new brand of grape jelly, and a blueberry muffin. He decided this was all due to the jelly he had eaten. It was something he had never tried after all, and must be the reason for this dream.
"Can you find me?" the girl asked again, a desperate pleading in her voice.
"No." It was as simple as that as far as Sephiroth was concerned.
"Will you find me?"
"No, I don't have time."
The girl shook her head. "What's the purpose of your existence? To destroy?"
"What?" Sephiroth asked, but he made the mistake of blinking because the next thing he knew, the girl was falling backwards into the bodies, her screams louder than the rest.
"General?"
Sephiroth was horrified. She become a part of the massive heaps of dying bodies, screaming and clawing at her pale skin. Why were they screaming? What unseen agony were they suffering from? Why were they tearing this girl's body apart? Why wasn't she fighting back? Had she simply accepted her fate?
"General? Sir!"
It was all his fault. He had killed her. No, it was The Destruction that killed her. Was she an angel? He didn't ask for her name. And would he even find her? He couldn't find her, he realized, because she didn't exist. The future didn't exist. Did he even exist?
"General Sephiroth!"
Sephiroth's eyes snapped open. Peering into his own startled eyes were a set of concerned, chocolate colored eyes. Sephiroth moved his eyes up a bit, and noticed the wild, spiky dark brown. "Fatoni?"
"Sir, are you okay? You've been standing outside your office door, staring off into space for several minutes now."
The boy standing in front of him was dressed in a purple tank top and purple baggy pants, with spiked shoulder guards and a giant sword that was about twelve inches wide strapped to his back. His belt bore the insignia of all 1st Class SOLDIERs. It appeared to be nothing more than a tree with sprouting roots, but everyone knew it was a representation of the Tree of Life. Sephiroth was the one who chose the insignia, but why, he never really knew himself. The General shook his head, a barely noticeable smirk playing on his face.
"Never eat Louie Mae Jelly at 6:15 in the morning," Sephiroth said, after noticing the young SOLDIER staring blankly at him.
"Sir?" Zack asked, looking completely perplexed, "Permission to speak freely?"
Sephiroth looked up and down the hallway. They were the only two people in the hall. "Zack, no need for formalities when are alone. I hold you in high regards."
"Ah, sir, thanks!" Zack beamed, grinning madly at his superior. "But, you know, I think you need a vacation. Louie Mae Jelly? Sephiroth, it's the best jelly in the world!"
"Hmph," he replied, "Anyway, what brings you to my office?"
"Oh right! Sector Three has been completely restored and is operating fine. However, Sector One has been bombed. President Shinra says some top secret stuff was inside that reactor, and Hojo wants one of his specimens that he kept in the reactor escorted back by us. He claims he'll feel less worried if knows his specimen is protected by someone competent. He's talking about you, not me, by the way."
"Wonderful," Sephiroth replied sarcastically, "I'm just gushing with pride. When does the next train to Sector One leave?"
"I believe it's 8:30 a.m."
"Get a team ready then," Sephiroth commanded, "It's about seven o'clock now. We'll leave in 30 minutes."
Zack saluted Sephiroth. The silver-haired General nodded and turned to enter his office, the doors sliding open automatically. However, he had only gotten one foot inside the door before he heard her voice again. Not the innocent voice of the girl from his daydream, but the more worldly voice that called to him and promised nothing good to come of their meeting.
Sephiroth. The world is waiting for you. A noble warrior that doesn't exist.
He felt so complete upon hearing her voice; it was if something was missing. Or was she the one missing something crucial to her? Sephiroth couldn't tell, but he knew he hated that voice.
"Zack?"
"Yeah, Sephiroth?" Zack asked, watching as his commander's back tensed slightly. He began to worry a bit. He and Sephiroth were friends. If he was to be honest with himself, they weren't friends at all, but associates thrown together due to a common goal. Sure, Sephiroth held him in high regards, but that's because he was a damn good fighter. Second only to Sephiroth. And upon seeing the General's back tense, he began to worry. Sephiroth was always a calm, cool, and collected individual even in the most tense of situations. That's why Zack admired the General so much.
"Do you believe in fate?" Sephiroth asked, bringing Zack back to the present.
Zack hesitated a moment, unsure of what to say. "Fate?"
"Yes, do you think our lives are predetermined?"
"I sure hope not, sir, because then, that takes all the fun out of living.... knowing that I got a date with a girl because it was already decided by some invisible being controlling life pretty much sucks. It makes us seem pathetic and all our boasting and bragging becomes meaningless."
"La luce non può esistere nella nerezza."
Zack arched an eyebrow, placing one hand on his hip. "La luce non può esistere nella nerezza? The light cannot exist in darkness?"
"You know Italian?" Sephiroth asked, sounding genuinely surprised.
Zack shrugged causually. "Italian is a dead language, true, but my father insisted that I learn it cause we are descendants of the Italian. You know? To keep the heritage alive."
"The last of a dying breed. How poetic," Sephiroth sighed. He seemed to relax. Entering his office, he said, just before the door shut, "See you in 19 minutes, Lieutenant General Fatoni."
"Fuck!" Zack shouted angrily at the closed the door. He turned and raced full speed down the hall.
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A/N: Okay, okay, I always write when I'm bored or half asleep, so I never truly know what I'm writing. Thanks to you guys for reviewing. I appreciate it. I'm not exactly a good writer, so you'll have to forgive me. I reread this chapter trying to pick out all the errors (please forgive my mistakes), and I must say, this chapter kind of gives the impression that I'm trying to write something scary, but the truth is: I'm not.
I have a slight idea where this fic is headed now that I've thought about it.
Oh, by the way, this fic is definitely AU and some characters might be a little OOC. I think Sephiroth is one of the most difficult characters to write, so forgive me if I'm doing a poor job at portraying him. And I apologize for taking so long to get this part out. I went to Atlanta, GA to see Maroon 5 and they put on an awesome show!