Amplitude Death

Chaos waited patiently for the little spy to return to the apartment he shared with the little wolf, gripping easily to the living room ceiling slightly to the side of the front door. His precious paradox had finally realised the source of the subtle changes her body was undergoing and had a panic attack. It had been a relatively dignified one considering, but the Herald of OMEGA had muscled through her weakened mental defences and assumed control when Galian Beast moved too close to the surface. It would not do for his vessel to lose the unborn child he had gone to such effort in assisting her to acquire, after all.

Of course, being still short-sightedly mortal in her attitudes his vessel's main concern had not been for the child, but that her pregnancy would make it practically impossible to maintain separate the identity of Draculina, ending both the charade that was the imaginary younger Valentine and the one concerning his paradox' true gender. Chaos however knew that neither was at all important anymore: The time for hiding in plain sight was over and within the week events unfolding elsewhere would shake ShinRa –and the rest of the Planet– to its foundations, so such subtle subterfuge was no longer essential.

There remained a possibility that the little spy would take his lover's true identity amiss, but should it come to that Chaos would simply kill the man and be done with it to spare his sweet paradox the heartache. She did love the silly mortal but if the male did not sufficiently reciprocate the sentiment then his vessel was better off without him; she would persevere regardless for the child, after all.

In truth, most of Chaos' attention was caught by the ever-roiling swirl of possibilities centred on Nibelheim which warped the fabric of space-time in beguilingly varied ways and shifted in subtle yet pervasive ways in every passing moment. The storm would soon pass and fade away, but what it left behind would be the determining factors for the coming Age. The upcoming events would echo forwards, influencing outcomes for hundreds of years, perhaps even a millennium. The Herald of OMEGA had barely the faintest inkling of what was to come and found his own inability to read a clear path quite intoxicating. He had guided events to make a number of outcomes more likely –mostly ensuring the survival of individuals who mattered to his vessel– and had killed off a few terminally boring possibilities, but other than that subtle nudging at the edges the tipping point was intact. He looked forward eagerly to learning what unfolded as all the players took their places and the little spy, no matter how dear to his paradox' heart, was rather irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Events would proceed regardless of whether the mortal lived or died so Chaos did not feel the need to moderate his impulses in the slightest regarding his vessel's lover.


Kunsel lay flat on his back on the carpet of the apartment he shared with fellow Second-class Cloud Strife and tried to consider his options in a rational manner. Unfortunately for his sanity and composure however, it was very difficult to engage in coherent thought when the harbinger of the end of days was pinning you to the floor, waiting eagerly for you to make a mistake. Not that the WEAPON had said as much, but it didn't really need to; it was fairly obvious to Kunsel that, if he did not respond to the being's revelations in a manner it approved of, the rest of his life would be measured in seconds.

"Can I have some time to think about this?" the SOLDIER ventured. "It is a lot to take in."

"By all means, little spy; take all the time you need," the entity that had introduced itself as 'Chaos, Herald of OMEGA' said equably, not moving from its perch on Kunsel's chest. The SOLDIER squirmed slightly, but it neither relinquished its hold on his wrists nor loosened its grip on his knees. Sighing, Kunsel tipped his head back so he didn't have to meet the luminously piercing gold eyes of his captor and tried once more to get his thoughts and feelings in some semblance of order.

So, Draculina had been lying to him: she wasn't Vincent Valentine's daughter but was in fact the Turk herself; who'd ever have thought the Company's prize covert operative was a woman. Kunsel wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. His pride was badly bruised both by the deceit and by his own obliviousness to the blatant falsehoods she'd spun for him, but all his instincts agreed that letting his pride dictate his response in this instance would swiftly prove fatal. Which meant he had to stomp down on his ego and find sensible, convincing reasons to forgive her if he wanted to live to see tomorrow.

"Chaos?" he ventured.

"Yes, little spy?"

Kunsel twitched at the utterly despised nickname –he was a loyal SOLDIER dammit– but didn't push his luck, asking instead "why exactly did Draculina –Vincent, whatever– lie to me?"

"My vessel wished to move freely within Midgar and spend time with her son without wasting time evading the little worm's minions," the WEAPON replied easily.

Ah, yes, he couldn't forget that Sephiroth was his lover's son rather than her brother. No wonder the General had tried to kill Kunsel when he found out. "Little worm?"

"The owner of the Company, little spy."

Fine, Kunsel could agree with that nickname and accept Draculina's reasoning; she'd wanted to escape her own infamy and had found herself in a difficult situation when their casual friendship had deepened into a relationship. Her not telling him could be set aside as not wanting to put him in a sticky situation with his superiors concerning loyalties or making him a target for the Turks. Fair enough. But there was one more question he really, really needed an answer to:

"Did she lie to me about anything else?"

Chaos cocked its head on one side. "No, little spy, she did not. Why would she? My sweet paradox wished to bond with her offspring, adapt to her condition and familiarise herself with her environment, such as it is. She also sought to anchor herself in order to prevent… accidents. Deceit would be counter-productive to such and endeavour, would it not?"

"So she does care about me." This was the sticking point and Kunsel could feel his self-esteem dissolving into a puddle of heated embarrassment even as he choked the words out.

The WEAPON bent down so it was practically nose to nose with the SOLDIER. "If she did not love you I would not be here, little spy, as your opinion would be superfluous. As it is your reaction is sufficiently important to her for me to take steps to prevent her coming to harm should you take against her," it said sharply with a distinct edge of exasperation. "Mortals are so foolish and fragile where emotions are concerned. Besides that, I took steps to alter her so she could not conceive unless she loved her mate. Of course she loves you." Kunsel heard the unspoken 'Idiot' loud and clear. He did not think Chaos would lie to him, as it was not human enough to consider doing so worthwhile. If Draculina really did love him –which seemed to be the case– he could forgive her the rest.

"Then I can and do forgive her for lying to me about her name," he said out loud.

"Be sure to do so, little spy, or I will make time to visit you one last time," the WEAPON informed him calmly before rippling slightly, its appearance fading into a familiar female face.

"Draculina? Or should I call you Vincent?" Kunsel asked tentatively, eying the fragile expression on her face with trepidation.

"Draculina is fine," his lover told him, releasing his arms and flopping forwards to lie on top of him. "I'm sorry. I didn't like lying to you and I didn't even realise I could get pregnant anymore."

"I honestly don't mind your being pregnant at all," Kusel said sincerely, "but your being about twice my age takes a little getting used to."

"Oh." There was a pause. "I was twenty-seven when Hojo got his hands on me and Chaos was implanted; I haven't aged since. I haven't even scarred, Hel take it. So I think I'm likely to still look and feel twenty-seven –physically at least– when the time finally comes for Chaos to return all that lives to the Lifestream."

Kunsel considered the prospect of immortality and wrapped his arms around her. "That sounds like a very raw deal," he commiserated. "On the other hand, I know that come Hades or high water, once she finds out you're pregnant my mother is going to insist I propose, which I would rather like to do anyway. Do you even want to get married, considering I'm going to eventually get old and grey while you stay young and energetic?"

She chuckled into his shirt, a faint note of hysteria trickling into her tone. "Everyone will be jealous of your striking young wife and gossip about how on the Planet you got me to marry you then," she muttered, "despite my being older than you."

"Is that a yes?" Kunsel asked hopefully.

"Yes, Zhao Kunsel, I will marry you."

Kunsel kissed her, dizzy with delight and relief. He'd been wanting to pop the question for ages.


This was insanely difficult to imagine, let alone write. I hope I've done the situation justice.

Amplitude death is what happens when something stops vibrating; I have used it to indicate a metaphorical loss of possibilites.