And we, five souls of no grand consequence, have just elected to unleash this force, to restore it's powers, to let it free again.

"We're with you," The Chronicler says.

"But you do understand this is insane," adds The Wanderer.

"At the least," The Messenger says, taking the dockets after we sign them, "we will all rot together."

"Aye, tha' we will," The Engineer says, "But p'raps a better question be this: 'ow do we get back up?"

"Well, I suppose we climb."

"Oh Gods," The Chronicler says, "I really must get back in shape." Here we stand, five men, atop Cosmos' Palace. Hidden until I, incensed by my so-called God, was followed back by agents of Chaos. What is before us is . . . hard to describe. Fiends and Seraphs duelling, Gilgamesh and his followers fighting and, well, there, in the midst of it all, stands a man in a long purple cape, bright silver armor, and a helmet known throughout the Heavens and Circles of Hell, and the Depths of the Void.

Garland is come.

At his side is a weapon beyond description, a blade forged of madness, with a hilt of cruelty and a the pommel set with a stone of obscenity. The black wind blows, and all around him there is battle. Yet he himself is oddly calm. He himself is oddly . . . composed.

And now a light is come, a shining ray which burns our very eyes. Such a sight, I am told, is what mere men experience in the presence of angels. What we see is a Goddess, and already I feel my body somehow . . . changed.

GARLAND. says Cosmos, and the fighting comes to a halt. No one can move, can lift a finger, can twitch a muscle. Such is the music of Cosmos' voice, and her light is strong enough to bring my companions to their knees, save The Messenger, who is able to stand among Gods. Yet I will not fall. I will myself to move, to wiggle toes, to blink, but I cannot. Yet I will not fall. I will not fall before this God, nor any other, no matter how perfect, how beautiful, how musical, how poetic, how romantic, how glorious, how inspiring she may seem. I WILL NOT BOW.

"What is the matter?" asks Garland, "do you feel you must perform for us? Is there perhaps someone here who does not know who you are . . . ? Address me by my name, Princess, or take the body nearest mine!"

DO NOT TRIFLE WITH ME.

SHOW YOURSELF! Shouts Garland, his voice somehow changed. "Or I will show them for you. Who here do you deceive? Who in this Castle does not already know?"

CEASE THIS AT ONCE OR I WILL-

"You'll what? File a complaint to The Highest? Because I'm following His will? Please. You have no ground."

A change comes over Cosmos, and the light seems to fade from her. Her brilliant blonde hair becomes green, her skin, the color of a sun, becomes a pale pink, her robes, woven from lightning and driven snow, turn the softest shade of blue imaginable. Nearly white, it is, yet still undeniably blue. Her crown, carved from the forging flames from whence universes are born, turns to gold, and looks so much less by comparison. The gems in it, once worlds themselves, are now but shiny pebbles. And when she speaks, her voice is no longer a thunderspell and song, but that of a young woman.

"Garland," she implores, "Please, please. Leave this place. Do only what El Cid demands."

"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME!" shouts Garland, his blade turning on this woman, this woman whom I know. "Do not ever speak the name of the Highest, Sarah. Such words are not for us to say, and not for them to hear."

"I am sorry," 'Sarah' responds, "I was lead to believe you desired no secrets here."

"It can't be!" shouts a Seraph at last. A warrior in red armor, he advances and says, "Garland? Sarah? But . . . if Sarah is Cosmos . . ."

"Ah," says Garland, eying the Seraph. "So this is whom you've been lying to. He still doesn't know, Sarah? Not even after his death?"

GARLAND. LEAVE THIS ALONE. says Sarah, her body fluctuating momentarily, the guise of Cosmos visible a mere second.

"You see, dear Warrior, I am Garland, your mortal foe."

"No!" says the Warrior, taking a step backward. "You are my friend, Garland! You and I worked alongside one another all our days in the service of the King, and when he passed, in the service of . . . The L . . .ad . . .y . . ."

"You see it, don't you. All your days you called her The Lady. And all throughout eternity, you have called Cosmos The Lady. And now you see that Princess Sarah and Lady Cosmos are the same . Tell me, boy! If Sarah is Cosmos, who am I!"

"No! No! You're my friend!"

"Ha! Friend? You remember nothing! Friends? How can we be friends, when YOU KILLED ME?!"

STOP THIS CHAOS! LEAVE THIS MAN BE!

"Cha . . . os? Garland is Chaos? What are you saying? Who are you? Where is the Goddess I died serving? What is this madness?"

"Ha! Listen to this whelp, Sarah, see how he suffers because of your kindness. Shall I have mercy upon your mercy and restore him? Shall I show him the lover you tore from him, the friends you made him forget? The heroism, the victory? The way he changed the world, and you stole that from him!?"

STOP THIS CHAOS! I BEG OF YOU!

I CANNOT, COSMOS. I WILL NOT. BY THE GOD OF THE GODS OF GODS COMMAND, I WILL FIGHT YOU FOREVER!

"Let me tell you all a story," Garland says, the Warrior sinking to his knees. "Of a man and a woman. It is a tale which extends back eons and eons, to times before angels wore wings, and Gods wore crowns."

"Garland, please!" Sarah cries, putting her hand on his shoulder, almost tenderly. It's then that I spy what she holds in her other hand. A folder stuffed with paper. The dockets!

I turn to The Messenger, "Give me the dockets." I say. "I'm not letting this or anything else stop us."

"Are you mad?" he whispers back, "You'll never get it off her."

"Long, long ago there was a world of Crystals. An entire universe dedicated to just these objects of power. A Crystal World, if you will. A treasure of the Gods, from whence all Crystals spawned. A realm of power The Gods could use to work wonders forever. A springwell of miracles, if you will."

"Just give me the dockets, I'm going to make the exchange."

"Fine. It's not like these aren't the death warrants for our everlasting souls anyway."

"Two Gods found this realm of Crystals, and the one entered. He reveled in the splendor and majesty of such a radiant realm. But his companion, she demanded he cease at once."

The Messenger hands me the dockets, and I will myself forward. Just small steps to start. I cannot move too quickly. I'll let Garland continue his monologue. He need not notice me until the time comes.

"The God would not be moved. So the Goddess attacked him, to drive him from the Crystal World. Their combat was fierce and terrible, and it's might was such that the Crystal World itself shattered, and all the Heavens were filled with Crystals in places there ought not to have been. Where once the Crystals had been tools of order and miracles, they now were the cause of chaos, of pain and suffering. Of madness complete."

I am nearer now. The last ranks of demons and seraphs are all that stand between me and this strange spectacle. In a moment I will have to come up with a very good means of getting this docket to Cosmos and getting the one she has away from her.

"So these two were taken to the throne of He Who is Highest, and to the Choir of Elohim. The Gods of Gods debated, and in the end the punishment was named: As their sin was battle, so, too, would their punishment be. They had chosen war over the rest of Heaven, and so they would live forever with it. And so the pair turned their eyes to a small, insignificant world where they would make their new beginning."

"These two Gods started a little war. They thought they could keep the matter private, that it would just be he and she fighting soft battles unheard throughout eternity. Oh, how little did they know. He kidnapped her, and was prepared to claim that first victory, when in stepped a force beyond their imagining. A young man, a Warrior of Light."

The Warrior stays still, simply staring as Garland reveals the truth. I begin to steel myself for what I must do. A plan has formed in my head. I will get these things from Cosmos. But not, I think, until Cosmos pays the price for what she has done to this man.

"The Warrior and his friends discovered that this God, this Chaos had drained the Crystals of their Light. And so they set out to stop him. Powerful friendships were formed, and the Warrior found the love of his life, a beautiful young woman he intended to wed at journey's end. But Cosmos would not lose her Knight. So she took from him his memory, gave Chaos back his life as Garland, and at the cost of this Warrior's future."

A murmur runs through the crowd. None here is familiar with this tale. Not even the Fiends who served Chaos recall this. Here, then, is the wound dealt by Cosmos, and here, now, it is exposed for all to see. Princess Sarah, her face streaked with tears, lashes back at Garland.

"How dare you! How dare you claim innocence in all of this! You are the one who got us cursed! You are the one who woke Kefka up! This isn't my fault. Oh Warrior, please, do not listen."

"Who have I served, all these years . . . ?"

"How, again, am I guilty?" Garland demands. "Yours was the hand which started this war. Yours was the hand which stole this hero's love! Yours was the tongue which did not refuse my challenge, which did not question The Highest! You are to blame here, not I! I have NEVER transgressed! I have not forgotten who we were, Cosmos!" Garland's shell shatters, and before us is the image of Chaos for a moment, burning and furious. I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN THE VOWS WE MADE! I HAVE NOT, Chaos reverts to Garland, and at this point, I make my entrance.

"Ah! Princess!" I shout, "There you are!" Sarah turns, as do Garland and the Warrior. I must keep the dockets concealed, and so I expose but one hand.

"Who are you?" Garland demands.

"Me? Sigfried the swordsman, of course."

"Hey!" a voice calls from the crowd, "No you're-"

"ENOUGH!" Shouts Gilgamesh, kicking the real Sigfried into silence. "I alone can find Waldo!"

"What are you doing?" Garland demands.

"I bring a message to the Princess, from the Lord Faram."

"Deliver it and be gone."

The Folder still behind my back, I approach Sarah. "Forgive me," I say softly, sliding the docket behind her back, and my arm around her waist. I look into the eyes of this Goddess for a moment, but spare no thought for what comes next. I lean my head in, and my lips touch hers. Soft, they are, those lips of the Goddess, and softly do they part for me. A fire fills my throat as I exchange the docket for the other, though, and I feel already the consequences for what I have done. I break free of the kiss, making certain to shut my mouth as I do so.

The sound of clapping is heard behind me. Garland laughs, leans toward me and says, "How touching. I suppose this is the part where you run, though, isn't it, Previa?"

"What's the matter, little Cid, don't I get a kiss, too?"

I open my mouth to respond, but what comes out is not any witty retort. No, rather I spew forth a ray of burning light, the breathe of Cosmos I swallowed during our kiss. The light burns Garland backward, and his howls stir the battle anew. I see his wings growing, and the transformation beginning. Not thinking, I turn and run, grabbing The Wanderer as I do. The Messenger grabs The Engineer and The Chronicler, and we all run for the wall again. Several hooks fly up before us, and that's it. The wall is breached.

"Demons!" The Messenger cries, our companions regaining their strength. We turn again, only to meet that source of nightmares, Chaos himself.

"Hate to break this to you, gentlemen, but this road is no worth to us, either."

"Thank you for that, Wanderer, but I think we knew already."

"Shut yer yaps an' RUUN!!"

We pelt off to the right, demons climbing the wall around us, the fiends no longer waiting to be distracted by Cosmos' seraphs. All Chaos' army is chasing us down. A light flares behind us. At the least we can count on The Goddess to delay The God. Yet still there is such a horde following us, and we cannot hope to escape. We have at least chosen a foe for Kefka. But we must find somewhere safe, must find somewhere to see whom Chaos has chosen, that we may oppose him.

"There!" The Chronicler shouts, "The Crystal Room!"

"Are you mad?" shouts The Messenger, "We can't risk Cosmos' Crystals! If we lead them there, we end the war before it begins!"

"Who among these fiends would dare endanger The Crystals and risk the punishments Cosmos and Chaos have brought upon themselves?"

"Good point, I'm for it."

"Right then, we'll have to jump it."

"On three?"

"Three be damned, just JUMP!!"

"Okay, we have ourselves a problem," I say, pushing my back against the door. A horde of fiends and demons separated from us by one flimsy door. Oh the things Cosmos will read when she gets our "bill"! "We can finish this docket here, but what do we do after that? UHRK!" The door bulges mightily. No doubt the fiends have found us.

"We could scatter, I suppose," The Chronicler says, "One of us might make it."

"But if that one doesn't have the docket, it doesn't matter."

"True . . ."

"False dockets, of course," says The Wanderer. "We have three dockets here, so we will have three heroes from that world. We each make a mad dash, bearing the name of the real hero in mind, and whoever makes it to Cosmos tells her the truth. We wait from that point for as long as we can, then we begin the new process."

"Right then. I suppose this may be the last set we work on together for a while, isn't it?"

"It might be the last we ever work on," says The Messenger. "Chaos isn't to be taken likely. His fiends may only be able to cause our souls pain, but no man can rightly say what the claws of Chaos will do to your soul."

"Then let's make this the best damn set we've ever done."

"Agreed,"

"I'll take tha' offer,"

"It's not like I'm doing anything better with my afterlife."

Letter from The Goddess Minerva, Gaia, to the Goddess Cosmos:

Honey! How you been girl!? I am doin' SO FAIN. Been keepin' my man in line and all that. Can't let boys get outta hand or they go cavortin' and all that, y'know? So listen Cozy, I hear you've been havin' a little trouble with that nasty Chaos, and you know what? I am behind you alla way, sister! I tell you what, I have ALWAYS thought The Highest's punishment was wrong. Now if his WIFE had handed down the decision, girl, you know it would have been wise. Men are nothing but horrible pigsluts who deserve the pain and suffering they get!

Okay sister! I'm gonna send you three of my finest! I know, two of them are MEN of all things, but don't you worry! At least if you pick a man you can shove him against Sephiroth all you want. You know how painful THAT'LL be. And of course Chaos picked Sephiroth, 'cuz he's a MAN and that's what MEN do. The nerve! I bet he doesn't pick a single woman this time around! Cuz MEN hate WOMEN, cuz they know we're so much better!

So here you go: Zack Fair, Cloud Strife, and my personal favorite, Aerith Gainsborough. And honey, you make sure those MEN you have doing this for you don't throw Aerith out just because she's a woman!"

"Well," I say, "If one thing's for certain, it's that Aerith won't be getting in."

"A pity," The Wanderer says, "Hers are legs that run forever."

"Fair enough," The Messenger concedes, "But if there's one thing The Scholar likes more than agitating a God, it's disobeying an order from one."

Name: Zack Fair
Age: 21
Sex: Male
Species: Hume (YNVH Cells)

At the age of 16, Zack Fair was beginning to make a name for himself in Shin-Ra Power Co.'s SOLDIER division. He was not the greatest of military minds, nor the most amazing SOLDIER in existance, but Zack Fair was marked, almost by the Hand of Minerva, for a greater destiny. Of the many 1st class hopefuls, Zack was hand selected by Angeal Hewely for the role of partner.

The magnitude of this privelege could be said to have escaped young Zack at the time. Which is fair enough. A sixteen year old is rarely expected to grasp that his master is a colleague of the most powerful warrior on the planet. For every Ingus, that is, there are a hundred Zacks or Luneths. Yet I will not be accused of downplaying the significance of this. Zack Fair was chosen by a colleague of Sephiroth. And, while Kefka is so horrible he could strike fear even into the hearts of the fearless, we who are not Gods fear Sephiroth nonetheless.

The fact of the matter is this: Zack Fair was ultimately a nice person with a bright and sunny attitude. His life, though, was a series of horrible misfortunes, tragedies, and mistakes which ultimately lead to his untimely death. The young man had the misfortune of being inducted into the SOLDIER program, and the great honor and terrible tragedy of being friends with Angeal Hewley.

At a very young age Zack was mingling with the most powerful warriors in his world. After the Wutai War, Genesis Rhapsodis surfaced as a foe of Shin-Ra, and soon Angeal went missing. This put Zack in close proximity with Sephiroth, and made the two of them partners of a sort in the Genesis War.

During this time, Zack also got to know the young Cetra named Aerith Gainsborough, and the two of them fell in love. Whether this relationship ever went physical or not is something which the docket does not specify. Nevertheless, Zack Fair knew Aerith and Sephiroth personally, and his life was almost entirely connected to the people who would later change the world.

Following the death of his mentor, Zack met a young Cloud Strife, and the guiding forces were at last in place. The Princess, the White Knight, and the Black Knight had all been gathered, and so the end drew nigh.

Genesis revealed to Sephiroth the truth- that Sephiroth was no Cetra, no savior, no hero from the Promised Land, but that he was a monster, the spawn of monsters (for the record, this report makes no distinction between Hojo, Lucrecia, or Jenova, all are here simply "Monsters") and inevitably a monster himself. Interestingly, Sephiroth believed this with ease. His own arrogance had always lead him to believe he was special, and Genesis' tale of being a Monster mattered not to him.

Zack and Sephiroth met Jenova, and a battle ensued. Here, Zack lost, and Sephiroth would have gone on unstopped had he not been defeated by, of all people, the grunt, Cloud.

Minerva, cruelty personified, decided that this settled things. The White Knight now trumped her old Blue Knight, and she needed him no longer. Zack defeated Genesis, as per her wishes, and she promptly lead Zack to his death, all the while allowing Genesis to continue on, despite the death and pain he had wrought.

Zack Fair is scored as follows:

Team Work: 7/10. Zack is a trained soldier capable of fighting alongside others in a coherent strategy if needs be. Nevertheless, he was a reckless youth, hot of blood, strong of head, and stiff of neck. The majority of Zack's accomplishments in the Genesis War were done alone. A one man army, you might say. Some find that useful. Frankly, we've taken enough of a Gamble on the Godslayer as it is, though. I'm looking for a safer choice.

Faith: 7/10. Zack actively fought against someone who proclaimed to be laboring for the favor of the Goddess. Nevertheless, Zack Fair is named among the choirs of angels, and is listed as having been faithful to his Goddess. He was a simple individual who believed in the greater good and, begrudgingly as I admit this, even Minerva is willing to accept belief in the greater good as a form of faith. Zack Fair did not ever figure out what was going on during the Genesis War. He had to be told, and even then he strove toward his original end: to make right what he believed was wrong. In this vein, Zack is perfect for us.

Lethality: 7/10. SOLDIER operatives are powerful combatants, as far as mortal men may go. Their superhuman strength, agility, and accuracy makes them a fearsome foe, and separates them greatly from the average hume. Nevertheless, Jenova infusions make these warriors subject to possible manipulation by Sephiroth. Likewise, Sephiroth's might is almost inexplicable, save that the combination of human and Jenova have made for a hybrid more powerful than either race could have hoped to have ever been alone.

Opposition: 5/10. Zack Fair was once friends with Sephiroth and, given the chance, would try to persuade him to return to the light. Sephiroth, of course, is not likely to accept. Zack fought this foe once before, and though he won a round or two, was ultimately trounced by him. Thus far I have found that quality to be damning.

A silence has fallen on the hall outside the Crystal Room. The demons and fiends assembled on the other side of the door have ceased to push against it. Something is coming. I can only pray that it is not Chaos, at last breaking free of Cosmos. It can't be Kefka, can it? Even Chaos knows he cannot bring Kefka here. To give Kefka a Crystal . . . Gods, I don't want to think about it.

"It's quiet . . ." The Messenger says, "too-"

"Don' say it!!" shouts The Engineer. "Dinnae say "tew quiet!" D'ye WANT sommat horrible to be commin' through tha' door? Sommat horrible Always happens to folks what sez "tew quiet!""

"What was it the last time? Does anyone remember what happened the last time things go quiet?" The Wanderer asks.

"Oh! Yes! I do! Marvelous time we had that time, didn't we! I was just thinking about that the other day. I believe the last time things got quiet . . . they unleashed the Behemoths . . ."

"Makes you glad you're dead, doesn't it?" I say.

"Not especially," says the Wanderer, "We might like dying more than living through getting gored by a Behemoth."

"I hope a Behemoth is all it is," I say, "Who knows what else Chaos has at his disposal."

"WEAPONS," says The Messenger, "And I'm not talking the horrible mechanical monstrosities constructed throughout the Heavens. I'm talking the living, breathing Omega the Sinner, Omega the Exile, Omega the WEAPON kind. Chaos could always throw that at us."

"Why thank you," says The Wanderer, "for making us all feel so much better. You are a ray of sunshine in a sea of darkness, Messenger. It's amazing your granddaughter had the strength to go on after being exposed to you for such time."

The Messenger's face grows red and he steps forward and punches The Wanderer in the face. The Wanderer, in turn, raises his fist to fight back. Before a fight can break out, though, The Engineer has grabbed his arms and The Chronicler has grabbed The Messenger. After a few brief moments of struggle the two break loose and simply look away from one another.

"Really?" I ask, looking around me. "Gods only know what's on the other side of this door, and you two feel the need to fight? Grow up, gentlemen. You're dead."

I sit back down by the door and crack open the next docket. After just a moment of looking it over, The Chronicler says softly, "Scholar. They're singing."

"Yes, yes," I snap, "I haven't the time for the "We All Are Angels And All Sing So Let's Love Each Other" speech today. As long as Wanderer and Messenger get over themselves, I'm fine."

"No," The Chronicler says, "Not them. THEM."

A moment later and I hear it too. The fiends and demons on the other side of the door have begun to sing. What this means I don't know. It's creepy, yes, but I'm not letting it stop me.

Name: Aerith Faremis
Alias: Aerith Gainsborough
Age: 22
Sex: Female
Species: Cetra

Aerith Faremis is an unusual choice. At least, her docket makes that clear. Born to a Cetra named Ifalna and a hume named Gast Faremis, Aerith was in many was raised to be everything Sephiroth was not, could not be, and would inevitably aim to destroy.

Shin-Ra had Aerith's parents exterminated while she was still young, and the child was brought up by a hume named Elmyra Gainsborough. Sephiroth's parents, on the other hand, were never executed by Shin-Ra (the report here makes no distinction between the monsters from whence Sephiroth spawned and his parents. All three fiends are treated as being part of the same group.), and he was raised a Prince of Midgar, whilst Aerith dwelt in it's slums.

Ironic, really, that this planet so glorified and praised the cuccoo it had hatched, whilst it's last true egg lay on the ground, never learning to fly. Such is the way of things, though. The docket, interestingly, provides a number of alternative timelines for Aerith, just as it did for Cecil. Apparently, in several more prominent variants, Aerith is raised in the houses of Shin-Ra, and the Jenova War is waged between her and Sephiroth.

Said Timelines are of interest, no doubt, but I prefer to dwell on the timeline that is at stake here. The main point is this: At just twenty-two years of age, Ms. Gainsborough held one of the three mightiest Crystals in her world: The White Materia. She used this Materia to summon a spell known as Holy, a gambit against Sephiroth's coming Meteor. The other two crystals, incidentally, are the Black Materia, and the Goddess Materia.

I wish to place special importance on the fact that Aerith summoned Holy mere moments before being slain without any sort of struggle. Holy, in this realm, is a lethal concentration of Life Stream Energy which is used to aide a planet in it's time of need. The problem, though, is that Holy is a double-edged sword. Holy acts based upon Sin potentials and values. The idea is that Holy would stop Meteor because the death of a planet was the highest amount of sin. The gamble, though, is that Holy could just as likely have ended the human race in that world, blaming them for the deaths of the Cetra and the coming of Meteor.

Which is, of course, ironic. The Black Materia was a charge of the ancients. If they'd wanted it to never be used, they should have cast it into a volcano, rather than resting it in a foolish trap. The pride of the Cetra in their own magic was their downfall. They thought they could be like the Gods, and they got what was coming to them.

Which brings me to my concern with Aerith. Physically, she is a total failure. Her body, though it was in excellent condition for a young Cetra woman, could never hope to contend with a trained hume soldier, let alone to contend with an anomaly like Sephiroth, a hybrid forged with all the most lethal aspects of both man and Jenovian, without either's redeeming qualities. Magically she was gifted, it's true, the only one in that era of her world to wield the White Materia. The problem was that her irresponsibility and rashness in the use of wielding said Materia could have slaughtered the ones she hoped to save.

Though it's worth noting: Aerith makes an interesting check against Terra. She could summon Holy as a defense against a Terra gone wrong. Assuming, of course, that the death of the Gods is in fact a sin . . .

Aerith is scored accordingly:

Team Work: 8/10. Normally, I like to score people who die for their worlds a perfect 10/10 in the Team Work category. Aerith does not receive this mark for the following reasons: A) She could very nearly have murdered her entire world along with her, and B) Aerith's intent was never to die for her world. She was not willing to die, and would have lived. Which brings me to my next major concern:

Faith: 3/10. Because these warriors will have no memory of their afterlives, Aerith would be stuck with memories of dying, and nothing beyond that. I cannot imagine the fear this might strike into her, to believe she died and faded into nothingness. I understand Cetra remain on their worlds after their deaths in the service of Minerva as stewards of the worlds, but to see nothing at all after you die, that would be a terrible punishment for a woman who was essentially kind of heart. I do not want to be the man who pushes this woman, who stresses her to her limits. I cannot forgive myself already for the Warrior of Light. I do not wish to know that I chose to make this woman believe there was nothing for her after death, and watch her join Sephiroth in changing history. Ha! To think, then it truly would be a war waged between them, to see who could change time as they might.

Lethality: (1 or 10)/10. This is a bit difficult to explain. Aerith's lethality is either high or low, depending on how one looks at it. Physically she could never hope to contend here. But magically, armed with the White Materia, she could prove able to kill all and obtain the crystals for herself. The question really comes down to whether a crystal like the White Materia can be brought to the battlefield.

Opposition: 7/10. Aerith's entire life was lived in opposition to Sephiroth, however subconsciously. Nevertheless, I express my doubts largely because the only time the two openly confronted each other, Aerith lost. Excluding, of course, her post mortem victory, which cannot be counted, given that actions taken after death are not included in the dockets.

"It's getting louder!" The Chronicler says.

"I recognize this song . . ." The Wanderer says softly. "And yet at the same time, I can't make it out. If only the words were clearer."

"I have a bad feelin' abou' this," adds the Engineer.

"Messenger," I say, looking up from the docket. "Grab the Crystal. We're not leaving that here."

"You want me to carry a Crystal?"

"No, you'll be bringing that to the Engineer. He's going to run with it. You'll be taking Aerith. Here," I slide the docket along the floor to him. "Wanderer, you're taking Zack. Chronicler, you're taking a dummy docket. Are you okay with that? We'll put, I don't know, we'll sign a paper marked Nanaki and you'll run with that."

"So you're taking Cloud then, huh? You sure he's the best?"

"No idea yet. But I'll run with him anyway. I wish they'd stop singing. It's making it hard to concentrate."

"I have a question about your scores for Aerith, Wanderer," says the Chronicler, "You marked her lethality AND her opposition at zero. I was under the impression you approved of women more often than men?"

"True," The Wanderer answers, "But a woman like this is much too beautiful to send into battle. You'll notice even the Godslayer was marked similarly."

"Fair enough."

A beat is now becoming clear in the background. At first things sounded like some manner of dirge, but now the fiends and demons' song has grown somehow exuberant, as though they are celebrating something. The little imps are likely crooning at the idea of cornering a couple of Cids. No matter. The fiends cannot conquer us. Not here, not now, not ever.

"One more. We can get this last one done. We have never failed before, and we will not let these fiends stop us now."

Name: Cloud Strife
Age: 21
Sex: Male
Species: Hume

Cloud Strife is, without a doubt, the most important nobody in the history of his world. Born in a tiny town called Nibelheim, Cloud existed far from the powers of the world. The Princes of Midgar and their wars with the Wutai were as fairy tales to him. The youth could have no idea that the day would come when he would change the world.

At a young age, Cloud was like many other shy youngsters through out creation: he had his eyes on a girl, but, being awkward, did not often include himself in the ways of the world. Then, as it happens with awkward young lads, a poorly maintained bridge collapsed and the apple of his eye was injured.

The people of Nibelheim, notorious morons (for the love of God, the entire Jenova Project was conducted IN NIBELHEIM and no one ever knew. JENOVA HERSELF was held not far from the town. The entire reactor was unguarded, and no one ever went and looked.) blamed young Cloud for the inevitable collapse of a bridge he did not build and was not responsible for maintaining. The village of idiots went so far as to delude themselves into believing it was this boy's fault that Tifa and her friends were on that bridge, that they were in no way responsible.

It is no wonder, then, that some years down the road, as Cloud, face blood spattered, stared into the dying eyes of his own pseudo-mentor, that he deluded himself, that his mind shattered and broke. But I am skipping ahead a bit.

One fateful day, at the climax of the Genesis War, Sephiroth, Zack, and Cloud found themselves in Nibelheim, investigating the reactor. Sephiroth went mad, and he began to stab people. Cloud, a low-level grunt, grabbed Zack's sword and fought back. Sephiroth, thinking he was better than the boy, stabbed him and, to his great surprise, found that his own sword was used to drop him deep into the planet.

This was not the only time Cloud would defeat Sephiroth, though. Far down the road, after healing his mind of the delusions that the world had brought onto him, Cloud and his friends confronted Sephiroth at the end of the Jenova War, deep within the North Crater. Sephiroth, amassing greater power, failed to realize that other people grew in might over time, too.

Sephiroth, therefore, was defeated again, his body broken and shattered, falling into the Life Stream. But as the heroes turned to leave, Sephiroth reached out and tried to do as his Mother before him and take the body of Cloud. A war of wills, it seemed, and even still Sephiroth remained certain he would not lose. Obviously, Sephiroth lost again.

Sephiroth's inability to defeat Cloud is almost obscene. His body destroyed, he broke into three lesser aspects of himself. These confronted Cloud two years later, and were still defeated, despite the fact that Cloud had not trained for two years, was afflicted with an illness of their making, and still contained Jenova's cells. The odds were ridiculously stacked in their favor, and yet these aspects failed spectacularly.

Sephiroth pulled himself together in a last ditch effort to slay Cloud, and even still, though his others had worn Cloud down, Sephiroth, for all his might and power, lost once more to him. This was a man who toppled nations, who threatened the life of the planet, who could make ill the whole of humanity, yet here stood just one man who could and had defeated him multiple times.

To make more plain what I am getting at, Zack Fair and Aerith Gainsborough both lost to Sephiroth. Cloud, on the other hand, defeated Sephiroth multiple times over a span of seven years. I cannot, therefore, believe any option could be better than this man who has never lost to Sephiroth.

Team Work: 6/10. Cloud was one of the harder to work with members of his team, given his states of advanced delusion during much of the earlier parts of his quest. He was, however, the appointed leader of the group, and remained so even after recovering his identity. Which speaks to the ability of this young man to lead, that he should be a viable leader no matter who he is.

Faith: 7/10. Cloud is used to being deceived, and has proven himself able to continue on with his original goal both before and after a stunning revelation. It is my opinion that this is the sort of man who, upon discovering the truth, could be trusted to stop Chaos before taking time to worry about the implications of things. He is also at peace with the way his history turned out, and could be depended upon to preserve that history.

Lethality: 8/10. Cloud, though never a trained SOLDIER operative, received the skill of Zack Fair, compounded with his own original knack for wielding a blade. This is not, of course, the first time skill has passed from one to the other by means other than teaching. Cara Baldesion received Galuf's talents along with her own following his death in the Great Forest of Moore.

Opposition: 10/10. Cloud, despite having never personally known Sephiroth before his transformation, is the perfect enemy for him. Every single encounter between these two men has ENDED, no matter what happened in the middle, with Cloud defeating Sephiroth. Successive wins over a period of 7 years is enough for me to be sure that no matter the time or place, should Cloud and Sephiroth battle, Sephiroth will inevitably be defeated.

The fiends are loud enough to understand now. I don't like it. I don't like what they're singing. I don't think any of us do. The tune is indeed a familiar one. It's one I didn't think I'd ever hear in the Palace of a Goddess, though. It's not one people are prone to sing in Heaven. But there it goes.

Estuans interius,
Ira vehementi,
Estuans interius,
ira vehementi

The others are exchanging anxious glances. This is indeed more stressful than any of us agreed to in the beginning. Had we known that names like Kefka, Terra, Cloud of Darkness, and Sephiroth would be bandied about, we might not have signed on at all. I don't think anyone would have.

"Listen up!" I say, getting their attention. "Things look bad right now. Really, really bad. We're cornered, trapped, with a horde right outside the door. We're about to separate again, and this could be the last time we see each other for a long time. Some of us may yet endure terrible pain before the end of this."

Sors immanis
Et inanis!
Sors immanis
Et inanis!

"But know this: We are Cid. Ours is a name known throughout Heaven and Hell. We are of a host that is vast and diverse, but always known for excellence! We are angels in the service of a Goddess, and our souls will not this day die! Though these fiends conspire to erase our work, though they tear at our documents, shred our folders, papers, and dossiers, though they wipe from the face of eternity the things we have said and done, we will not give up!"

Veni, veni, venias,
Ne me mori facias,
Veni, veni, venias,
Ne me mori facias.

"We will not go into the darkness in shame, we will not surrender ourselves to Chaos and his cronies! We will defy his mad laws so long as we have legs to stand on, arms to fight with, and hearts to feel with. We will press on!"

Veni, veni, venias, (Gloriosa!)
Ne me mori facias, (Generosa!)
Veni, veni, venias, (Gloriosa!)
Ne me mori facias, (Generosa!)

"This, my brothers, is our day! Spread your wings, hold your heads up high, and prepare to run for your lives. Gods be with you, till we meet again."

A blade stabs through the door, long, slender and sharp. It pulls back, then is thrust through once more. Again it plunges in and out, and then the door is knocked down. As one we voice the final line of the dark hymn, knowing only too well who it is that emerges from the dust.

"Sephiroth!"