Marion tapped her foot impatiently while the lock on her apartment door processed her fingerprint. A moment later there was a quiet 'ding', and the door slid open. She stepped inside, quickly shutting the door and pressing the button to lock it. She closed her eyes in relief, glad that another stress-inducing day at work was finally over.

Something brushed against her leg, making her jump. She stared with wide eyes at her cat, who was looking up as innocently as he could. She sighed, exasperated, before moving further into her apartment. Her purse was plopped unceremoniously on the kitchen counter, and the heels were kicked off in an unruly fashion. She wiggled her toes and revered in being able to not walk around in restrictive footwear.

"Miss Schiffer," came a voice from the living room. She turned, unsurprised to see her middle aged Butler, Edmund, bowing in the doorway. He was a graying man, but his manners were impeccable, and she respected him for his ability to not talk. His family- the Heale family- had served the Schiffers for generations, keeping the family's darkest secrets and remaining loyal to them.

"I trust your day was enjoyable," he stated, a knowing glint in his eye. Marion snorted.

"Of course it wasn't," she said tiredly. "PSICOM was being a nuisance again." He raised both of his eyebrows.

"I'm really not at all surprised, ma'am," he replied, shrugging. "What with all of the rumors of how much money you've been receiving from the Cavalry lately… Director Rosch is probably jealous that they get so much business."

"Rosch is an idiot," muttered Marion, reaching up for her hair. "He can't even see what's right in front of him." She paused in her action, glancing at Edmund out of the corner of her eye.

"I scanned the entire condo, as per your instructions," he said, bowing again. "But really, does the wig bother you that much?"

"It itches."

"Ah."

Marion pulled off her brown hair, revealing a much smaller mass of rose colored hair. Lightning shook her head back and forth several times to keep it from being pressed up against her head, and set down the wig on the counter next to her purse. She could stand the color contacts, and wouldn't bother to take those out until later.

"You are attending the Sanctum Gala next week; am I correct, Miss Schiffer?"

"Yes," replied Lightning with a snort. "Although I'd rather not spend my time around a bunch of blustering nobles and businessmen."

"If I may, you are an excellent actress, ma'am," he mused. "I'm sure you'll be capable of pulling it off without a hitch."

Lightning rolled her eyes, sometimes wishing that her butler didn't have to be so formal with her all of the time. She missed talking casually to Sazh, Fang- even Snow made for good conversation. Sometimes.

"The Primarch's going to be there, though," she said.

"Does he know you?"

"He thinks he knows Marion Schiffer," muttered Lightning. "But I don't think he suspects… he used to know me. Back when he was still the leader of the Cavalry. That was only a short time, though."

He nodded, not prodding for any more information. Edmund was an excellent listener; she'd give him that much.

"Shall I cancel your daily appointment with Miss Derring?"

Lightning's eyebrow twitched. Tara Derring was a spoiled, rich brat in her opinion- one of the types who didn't need to work in order to have all of the money in the world. For some reason, she insisted on befriending Marion and forced her into coming to her little parties every day. Lightning often went out of her way to cancel them, as she had never really been one to gossip. Marion, on the other hand, could gossip in an easy, subtle way.

Normally, she would have answered in the affirmative. Seeing as how she had cancelled yesterday, and the day before that, though…

"No," she said irritably. "I'll go." As much as she wanted to tear out Tara's tongue when she saw her, she had to pretend to enjoy the stifling gatherings in order to put on a convincing attitude. She always acted very regrettable when she couldn't attend due to "business".

Had someone told her she would be living a life of luxury while being a Pulse l'Cie at the same time, she would have coldly told them to stuff it, or she would for them.

There was only one week left- one week until Rygdea gave the signal. Lightning couldn't wait for that day to come; she didn't know how much more of the high life she could take.

*Four Weeks Earlier*

Lightning withheld her gasp, ducking into a dark corner and holding her breath, praying that the couple striding past her wouldn't take notice of her. It would be impossible to actually venture out in the open, seeing as how her face was probably plastered all over the news casts these days. The pink hair was a complete giveaway, and not for the first time, she was annoyed by how much it stuck out like a beacon.

She could still barely comprehend the situation. Lightning was trapped in Eden, with no way back to the Fifth Ark and no idea how she had gotten there in the first place. The death of the strange Cie'th had something to do with it, that much she knew, but how could a Cie'th do something like transporting her somewhere else? It shouldn't have been possible.

However, being a practical person, she quickly set a list of goals for herself. The first? Find a suitable disguise.

The question was how to do that without completely giving herself away.

Lightning groaned. She might as well just turn herself into PSICOM and be done with it. Colonel Rosch would be all too happy to execute her.

Focus, she told herself. Stay alive for Serah.

She could tell that she was at one of the very bottom levels of Eden, judging by how high the buildings went. Most of the people living down here were average citizens, who hopefully wouldn't be on the lookout for Pulse l'Cie. However, there were so many people with a huge fear of Pulse, and with her Guardian Corps uniform, she would draw too much attention. Her only option would be to break into some kind of clothing store, and maybe grab a hoodie to hide her most striking features.

Or… her eyes travelled to one of the pedestrians walking past the alley.

Moments later, she strode out casually, hands in her pockets, leaving behind an unconscious young man in the place where she'd just been hiding. He'd wake up later with a slight headache and missing his jacket, but other than that he hadn't been harmed. Lightning felt relieved that no one gave her a second glance as she walked down the street, feeling slightly disoriented; it was the first time in ages that she hadn't been mobbed by Sanctum troops.

She'd had to discard her Blazefire Saber in the alleyway; hopefully if someone stumbled upon it, they wouldn't have the sense to turn it into PSICOM but instead give it to the Guardian Corps. While she was relatively sure that PSICOM didn't have everyone's fingerprint, she wouldn't put it past them to do so. The Guardian Corps would just shrug, thank the person, and issue it to another deserving soldier.

Lightning no longer wore her hair draped around her shoulder as before; she'd pushed it back behind her in order to make it less visible. She typically kept her head down, trying to attract as little notice as possible. She wasn't entirely sure what she could do now.

Her stomach rumbled.

Lightning wanted to scream and pull at her hair; on top of being stuck in Eden, having to avoid being spotted, finding a disguise, trying not to get caught by the Sanctum, and just surviving, now she had to find food too? Life really hated her right then.

It wasn't as though she could just waltz into a restaurant and ask for food. She didn't exactly have any gil on her, and she couldn't risk being seen up close. Someone could spot her pink bangs that way, and then all hell would break loose. Absently, she reached up to scratch an itch in her forehead, blinking when her hand came away with blood.

Had she hit her head? She couldn't remember doing so; there had been no pain, if she had. She pressed the same hand to her forehead again, blinking when she saw that no more blood appeared. Shrugging, she continued walking listlessly down the sidewalk, barely aware of the vehicles that zoomed past.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood, and her eyes shot upward. She stood poised, alert and waiting for an invisible enemy. When nothing happened, she blinked; her sixth sense had never once failed her. Lightning guessed that, what with all of the fighting she'd been doing recently, she could be imagining things.

Still, she rested her hand on the hilt of her survival knife, hidden in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Its grip was comforting to her.

The area suddenly seemed far darker, before the lights of Eden flared, making the city glow like a beacon as it always did. She blinked; it was, if possible, even brighter than it had been during the day. Although she didn't feel tired, she knew that her body had to be close to being worn out at this point. She'd been fighting and hadn't gotten any rest for hours on end. Lightning had made the mistake of going on ahead when she could have rested with Fang while waiting for the remainder of their group.

She turned down an alleyway again, trying to remember her way around Eden. She and Serah had visited the city once when they were children, but it was all a blur, much like the rest of the memories that Lightning had of her parents. She'd put them out of her mind for so long that it was difficult to recall their faces at this point. A pang of remorse went through her, but she pushed it aside.

It wasn't as though she could really rent a room at a hotel (she really needed gil); oh well. If need be, she could always just try to catch some sleep in an alleyway. Her internal clock would ensure that she woke up before most of the civilians. If she could find a good place to hide, then she would be set for the night.

All at once, her danger sense went haywire once again. This time it was reflexive- she snapped open her knife, holding it out in a backhand grip before her. Warily, she turned around in a circle, leaving no corner unchecked for enemies.

"Pardon me."

There- on her left. She whirled, bringing her blade up to block a blow, only to find that there was no resistance against it. Out of the shadows stepped a middle aged man, with crinkled brown eyes and a blank face. He made no move to attack her, though she quickly spotted the hand gun at his belt. She didn't bother to lower the knife, in case he suddenly decided to shoot her.

"If you please," he said, bowing. "My mistress would like to have a word with you."

"And if I don't consent?" she answered harshly.

"Then I will use force if necessary."

That brought her to a dilemma. She could probably win a fight against him- no normal human stood a chance against a trained l'Cie, but that would attract too much attention from people that she didn't want getting involved. It could be a trap; there was some sort of recognition in his eyes, but she couldn't tell what it was he recognized.

After a minute of contemplation, she lowered her weapon and folded it, sticking it back in her pocket.

"Fine," she stated curtly. "But why"-

He waved his hand to cut her off. "If you don't ask questions, then neither will we."

Lightning narrowed her eyes again. That was a policy that she could handle, but at the same time she was well aware that she could be walking straight into a trap. Then again, how would PSICOM know if she was in Eden? They'd gone off the radar for awhile now, and hadn't been seen by the military group since being aboard the Palamecia.

He beckoned for her to follow, and she did, trailing a few steps behind him.

It was how she met Edmund for the first time.

They went through a series of dark, twisting alleyways before arriving at a derelict door, not a place that anyone of importance in Eden would usually frequent. He bowed again, holding open the door for her, but she nodded at the entrance, indicating she wanted him to go first. Lightning was still suspicious, and he could easily plant a bullet in her back. She followed him into a dark room, blinking when the lights suddenly flashed on blindingly.

The sight that greeted her was… unusual.

The man went over to stand next to an elderly woman. She seemed quite elegant for someone that old- her clothes were still fashionable, her white hair was in an elaborate bun, and she appeared to be fumbling with a laptop, but wasn't looking at it. Instead, her eyes- a striking shade of silver- were fixed upon Lightning. The woman was seated in a lavish armchair, and across from her was a chair of the same style.

"Sit," she croaked, jerking her head at the chair.

"No thank you," replied Lightning stiffly. She could be vulnerable in a seated position, even though she wasn't looking forward to being the object of the woman's wrath. She didn't appear to be the type to enjoy her orders being disobeyed.

To her great surprise, however, the woman's face broke out into a wide (albeit crooked) grin, oddly reminiscent of Fang's. She threw back her head and laughed loudly. Then, abruptly, her mood changed, and the entire room seemed to darken.

"You see," she snapped at the man, who flinched slightly. "I told you I'd chosen the right one. The moment you described her, I knew. I've finally found an heir." She turned back to a very confused Lightning. "Apologies. I haven't introduced myself. I am Adriana Schiffer; perhaps you've heard of me?"

The soldier's jaw dropped.

Schiffer? Schiffer? As in, the head of Schiffer Corp.? The head of the largest weapons manufacturer in all of Cocoon was sitting in front of her… her head whirled. What would someone of this much importance want with a simple soldier? Didn't she know her face, from the news?

"No need to introduce yourself," said Adriana, grinning wickedly. "So long as you cooperate, I don't need to know anything about you. I have no clue who you are, what you are, or why you are in Eden. Are we clear on that?"

Lightning opened her mouth to answer, but Adriana cut her off.

"Excellent. I'm getting too old for this." Suddenly the elderly woman looked exhausted, about to slump in her chair, before she collected herself. "Edmund, if you could explain?"

The man beside her- Edmund- cleared his throat. "Miss Schiffer requests that you train for one week, and then come into possession of the Schiffer Corporation as her official heiress. You are welcome to refuse, but Miss Schiffer will use whatever means necessary to convince you to agree, including giving your identity directly to PSICOM."

Lightning narrowed her eyes. So, the woman suddenly chose her to be her successor? It was an odd request, but could she really refuse? It was obvious that Adriana, despite what she claimed, knew exactly who she was, and was willing to use that information however she liked. The woman was cunning, she would give her that.

What choice did she have, in the end? Still, the shock at how quickly this had happened since her arrival in Eden was still trying to reach her.

"Why me?" she asked, finally finding her voice. "Why choose me? A soldier, a Pulse l'Cie, and an enemy of Cocoon. I've never studied business once in my life"-

"-Hence the training"- Edmund stressed.

"-And I'm not cut out for striking bargains. I can't stand all of that political crap."

Adriana's shark-like grin turned positively fiendish. Lightning found herself shivering subconsciously, feeling pinned by the sharp gaze. The woman was definitely not accustomed to not getting her way.

"Edmund is right; the training will clear all of that up. As to why…" she shrugged. "Being the head of a corporation tends to make you greedy. I've been consumed by it for a long time, and I didn't just want any successor. I wanted one with power, someone who knows how to stand up for themselves. L'Cie, despite the fear that the world has for them, have more than enough of it. As for politics- you may not like it, but that's not to say your disguise won't."

When Lightning only stared, she cackled.

"Silly girl!" Lightning jerked at being called that. "You didn't think that you could just look different and then your masquerade would be complete, did you? You will need a change of personality as well. I'm thinking…" She studied her for a few moments, making her shift uncomfortably. "Someone flirtatious and charming, but at the same time very clever and knowledgeable. Surely you can pull that much off?"

All she could do was stare in shock. The traits that Adriana had just listed off- aside from knowledgeable- were completely out of her normal character. The fal'Cie knew that she couldn't be flirtatious and charming even if she wanted to be. As though the older woman was reading her mind, she said, "Even when your survival depends on it?"

Well, when you put it that way…

Lightning was nothing if not practical. She would do what needed to be done.

"Let's say I accepted," she said slowly. "When would my training begin?"

"Immediately," replied Edmund. Adriana looked bored, almost as though she had planned for all of these questions.

"Is there anything specific you would want me to not do? For example, once I'm the head of the company, I could destroy it, if I wanted."

Both of them jerked at this, clearly not expecting it. Edmund's mouth flopped open, while Adriana gripped the arms of her chair tightly.

"I suppose it's up to you," she admitted, looking reluctant. "I have no say in your actions once you take charge."

Only Lightning had no intention of shutting down Schiffer Corp. A thousand options were running through her head now, all of which she could use to topple the Sanctum and push Barthandelus out of power, thereby preventing Cocoon's eventual destruction. She could fund the Cavalry (though she would have to take care when doing so), she could trip up PSICOM's attempts to get weaponry- there was so much she would be able to influence. The possibilities were endless.

"We can fund your disguise," said Adriana, watching her carefully. "Your hair, I notice, is very distinctive. So are your eyes, though not quite as much. Not to mention that you probably need clothing other than your Guardian Corps uniform, correct?"

Lightning started; just how long had Adriana been watching her?

"You can choose your wardrobe, but it can't be anything too reserved. In order to be convincing, you're going to have to show a bit more skin, wouldn't you agree?"

Edmund coughed slightly. "Her uniform already shows quite a bit, ma'am."

"Arms and legs don't count," snapped Adriana. "I'm talking about… other areas."

Trying to keep from appearing completely befuddled (and slightly creeped out) by Adriana's musing, Lightning said loudly, "I accept."

"Splendid!" exclaimed Adriana, clapping her hands together. The shark grin returned. "Of course, you'll need a convincing cover story, which I can provide. What's your name?"

"I thought"-

"No, no, no, not your name."

It took a few seconds before Lightning realized exactly what the elderly woman was asking of her.

"… Marion Schiffer."

*Present Time*

Lightning absentmindedly stroke her cat, thinking to herself while she waited for Edmund to get the car. Had she really made as much of a difference as she originally hoped? Sometimes she thought that it wasn't really the things around her that she changed, but herself instead. Was this was Raines had meant, back in the Fifth Ark?

"… but was a puppet with no will to wield it…"

No, that wasn't right; she was not a puppet, and she was doing something. Whether or not it would actually work, or even if she would survive, was still to be determined. She was treading in dangerous waters here.

One week left.

Author's note: Some of you may think that Lightning ended up being a bit out of character (sorry about that), but I think she would take the initiative to do whatever she could. Hmm… I wonder what her plans could be?

What did you think of Adriana? I wanted her to seem a little bit insane… and now I feel bad for Edmund, for having to work for her. Hopefully the time skips aren't too confusing… the next chapter should start with Lightning starting her training. Hopefully you aren't completely bored by it all.

Review please! I would love to hear from my readers!