The End is the beginning
Introduction
Just a little note from the autor : Please, if you like this story, don't hesitate to review and subscribe, it really help me a lot ! :3
Thx with all my heart ! Please enjoy : )
Vincent Valentine arrived in Nibelheim under a torrential downpour. That night, the small village, battered by winds at the foot of the Nibel Mountains, was nearly deserted, and he didn't encounter a single soul as he made his way through the town to the manor. Facing the imposing wrought-iron gate, his metal claw resting on the broad handle, he stood frozen for a few moments. Water streamed through his hair and across his face, his cape and clothes thoroughly soaked, yet he remained there, motionless, lost in memories.
Wisps of mist escaped his lips as he exhaled. The October night air was already frigid, just like it had been thirty-two years ago. With infinite sadness and melancholy, he recalled the face of the young woman who had once captured his heart:
Stumbling as she exited the helicopter, she had clumsily grabbed onto the TURK's arm, apologizing. Wrapped in a thick gray woolen scarf, with her delicate nose and cheeks reddened by the cold, she had given him a smile he could never forget. Why hadn't he acted when he still had the chance? Why had he waited so long before trying to stop them?
It was all over now. Lucrecia's son was dead, and she would be forever imprisoned in her crystal tomb, deep in a cave lost in the mountains.
Swallowing his sorrow with difficulty, his throat tight, he adjusted his cape to cover half his face, leaving only his eyes visible, and decided to push the gate, which emitted a perfectly deafening creak as it allowed him entry into the gardens of the old mansion.
His intention was simple: destroy the manor. Rid himself of this nightmarish place where everything had begun, and where everything should end. Perhaps then he could mourn his past and try to forget... Yes, forget. It wouldn't be easy, but his friends would be there to help him. He knew he could count on them, on their support, on their friendship.
Over time, deep and undeniable bonds had formed between him and the members of Avalanche. A faint smile briefly lit his features as he thought of his teammates. Mechanically, he followed the cobbled path leading to the porch.
Built around fifty years ago, the Shinra mansion had suffered the ravages of time, and the particularly windy climate of the region had taken its toll on the exterior facades, cracking them from the foundations to the roof. Despite this, the building still seemed to retain its former grandeur.
When he entered the mansion, shock abruptly pulled him from his dark thoughts. Stunned, he let the satchel he had been carrying on his shoulder, filled with healing potions and travel provisions, fall carelessly. He might have expected anything in this place, but certainly not this!
Sparkling from floor to ceiling, the manor's hall had evidently undergone a thorough cleaning! No more monsters! No more ghosts! No more traces of cobwebs or bat nests...
Only the slightly faded wallpaper and the lacquered woodwork bore the marks of the passage of time since their creation. On the large marble dresser near the entrance, a few candles were burning down, proof that the place was now inhabited.
"Who are you? And what are you doing in my house?" a distinctly authoritative female voice called from the top of the grand staircase in front of him. The silhouette was framed by the immense stained-glass window, the backlight preventing him from clearly discerning her features. Caught off guard and confused, Vincent stammered some apologies:
"Uh…please excuse me," he said, surprised, "but... well, actually I left this house a few months ago and… and I didn't think anyone… I thought I'd find it… in the state I left it, and of course… unoccupied…"
The person descended the flight of stairs to the ground floor, exclaiming skeptically:
"This house was inhabited? You must be joking! In the state it was in?"
She was a woman at least fifteen years his senior, or so it seemed, given his appearance, age no longer having any hold on him since he had, so to speak, discovered the secret of eternal youth. Thank you, Hojo.
Quite slim and of average height, her sandy blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of her head. Small round glasses perched on an aquiline nose gave her a somewhat severe look, softened by small dimples at the corners of her cheeks. Her outfit, rather classic and unremarkable, consisted of a long floral skirt paired with a lace cardigan worn over a light-colored camisole, all complemented by a pair of boots. The only detail that caught the TURK's attention was a slight, discreet scar marking the upper right temple, just above the ear, extending to the hairline.
"It was inhabited, yes… well… in a manner of speaking…," the ex-TURK resumed, scratching his neck, troubled, after setting his assault rifle against the wall a few steps away, to show the stranger he was not a threat.
"Oh… well," she replied in a much softer tone, almost embarrassed. "In that case, I should probably apologize for moving in here, since this house doesn't belong to me. I'm sincerely sorry. But when I arrived here, the villagers assured me that no one had lived here for decades! And seeing the state it was in, I really believed that…
Don't apologize, it's fine," he concluded, trying to hide his disappointment.
This situation slightly thwarted his plans. Impossible to destroy the manor if it was now occupied. For Vincent, years with the TURKs had taught him to avoid life's unexpected events. Always anticipate, never be caught off guard. Such was the credo of this elite organization.
Mentally reviewing all the options available to him, he continued the conversation as if nothing had happened:
"Could I, however, ask for your hospitality for the night, if it wouldn't trouble you? You see, I've had a long journey and…"
"Of course! What a question! Oh dear! I'm so confused! Seeing this house, I really thought no one owned it anymore! Mr.…?"
"Valentine. Vincent Valentine. But you can call me Vincent. And I repeat, don't apologize, it's been years since I've attended to this manor…"
"You should take off your cape; it's soaked!"
Taking her advice, the brunette unfastened the straps of the garment and let it slide off his shoulders.
"May I offer you something to warm you up? Tea?"
"Gladly, thank you."
"Please, wait for me in the small sitting room, I'll be right there!"
Entering the room, Vincent was somewhat relieved to see that his hostess had kept the old grand piano. Before setting his cape on the armchair, he brushed the keys, which resonated with a few discordant notes, bringing back the memory of Lucrecia playing that very instrument years ago. He loved listening to her play and sing, for despite her modesty about her talents, she had a magnificent voice and a true gift for music.
After about ten minutes, the mistress of the house, whose name he still did not know, returned carrying a round tray with two cups and a carafe of steaming liquid, as well as a large towel he could use to dry off.
"Vincent, is everything all right?" she asked, concerned by the nostalgic expression on her curious visitor's face.
"Yes... yes, everything is fine."
"This piano, was it yours?"
"No…"
"Here, your tea!"
She handed him the steaming cup and took a seat on the sofa.
"Thank you. You haven't told me your name..."
"Oh yes! Silly me! You surprised me so much! I wasn't expecting company at such a late hour in such an isolated village! But you can call me Selene. Selene Danler."
They settled around the coffee table, and Vincent resumed the conversation with the question that had been on his mind since he entered the Shinra manor and discovered it was no longer vacant:
"Forgive my curiosity, but I'd like to know one thing: have you discovered the manor's underground, the one with the entrance in one of the upstairs rooms?"
"Yes, but I haven't gone down there," she replied sincerely. "I'm not particularly fond of danger, you know. I immediately locked that room."
Vincent noticed the worried look on her face. Was she wondering about the secrets hidden in the manor's basements? Probably. So, he decided to quickly change the subject:
"Do you live here alone?"
"Um, no. I live with my grandson. We used to live near the plains of Kalm, but we left some time ago when the meteor struck Midgar." She paused briefly and took a sip from her cup.
"And you, where are you from, Vincent? And why were you living in this house in the state it was in?"
"Well, it's a long story, but… to summarize, I'm a former TURK who left Midgar to settle here and…"
"A TURK?" she interrupted.
"Ex-TURK. I had disagreements with Shinra."
"Who hasn't!" she exclaimed, laughing.
He was about to continue when the door to the sitting room slowly creaked open, interrupting him. A small head peeked through the crack, whispering:
"Grandma? I can't sleep! Can I come with you?"
The woman hesitated, looking back and forth between her visitor and the little boy half-hidden behind the large door. She hadn't expected him to wake up and join her so late. Usually, he was too afraid to come down the stairs alone in the dark. After a few seconds, she gave in and motioned for the child, who ran into the room and jumped onto her lap.
"Who's the man, Grandma?" the boy asked in his adorable childish voice, clutching an old plush Chocobo in his hands.
With affection, Selene smiled and kissed his forehead.
"This man is Vincent. He owns the manor we live in. Vincent, this is my grandson: Adonis."
She turned to Vincent and saw that he was staring at the child, his eyes widened in shock, and she wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a hint of fear in his crimson gaze. The gloved hand holding his cup had frozen midway between the table and his mouth.
The boy couldn't have been more than five years old. Nestled on his grandmother's lap, he clutched his plush toy, which had evidently seen many battles and had one eye clumsily re-sewn, all while shyly smiling at Vincent, whom he watched intently. A particular, distinctive gaze that frightened the ex-TURK: sharp, slit-like pupils, so thin they looked like those of a cat, set in striking jade-green irises. And that hair, short, messy, with some strands falling gracefully over his forehead, the same color as steel. A silver-gray, surprising for someone so young.
He was the exact replica, a pint-sized version, of the man who had once been the greatest SOLDIER: the Hero Sephiroth.
Worried, Selene nervously asked Vincent:
"You recognized him, didn't you?"
Clearly, she hadn't expected a stranger to connect the dots so quickly about her grandson's lineage. And it troubled her even more that the stranger was a former TURK. From what she had learned through her contacts, Professor Hojo had been dead for several months, but one could never be too cautious.
"Who... who is this child?" Vincent managed to articulate.
The woman sighed deeply:
"And here I thought enough time had passed since his father's death that no one would make the connection! Judging by your reaction, I was obviously wrong!"
"His... his father?"
"Yes! That's why you're reacting this way, isn't it? You recognized my grandson as the spitting image of that former SOLDIER who died a few years ago, the one all over the newspapers during the war!"
"Sephiroth…"
"Yes, that's right!"
"He had… a son? But… and you say you're his grandmother…"
Vincent couldn't stop stammering, utterly baffled.
"Yes, that's correct. This little one's mother was my daughter. She sadly passed away shortly after he was born. May Gaia and the Lifestream rest her soul..."
A fleeting veil of sadness crossed her steely blue eyes behind the small round glasses.
"Grandma, are you talking about Mommy and Daddy?"
"Yes, my sweet! But for you, it's time to go back to bed! Off you go!"
"Please! Just two more minutes!" the child pleaded, stifling a yawn and rubbing his eyes.
"No, young man!"
"One minute?"
"No!"
"Half a minute?"
"No!"
"Okay…" the boy conceded with a pout.
"Vincent, please excuse me for a moment while I put this charming young man back to sleep!"
Selene stood up, her grandson still in her arms, and left the room. The boy, nestled against his grandmother's shoulder, waved a small goodbye to Vincent while sucking on a corner of his plush toy.
The door closed softly, and Vincent let out the breath of despair that had been trapped in his chest since he first laid eyes on the little boy. A flood of questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't find a reassuring answer to any of them.
Sephiroth had a son. Knowing the young man had been twenty-three when he died at Nibelheim, it wasn't implausible. Had Sephiroth known? Was this truly a natural child, or had Hojo tampered again, inserting bits of genetic code into a new embryo? Had the child inherited Jenova's genes? If so, wasn't he in danger, just like his father? Or wasn't he himself a danger? What would happen if Cloud found out about his existence?
Lost in his thoughts, Vincent waited patiently for Selene, who was tucking in her grandson. The boy didn't want to return to his room but agreed to sleep in his grandmother's bed, certain she would soon join him. She stroked Adonis's silver hair, and gradually, he began to fall asleep.
If she hadn't helped her daughter bring the child into the world herself, she would never have guessed he was her grandson. The child had taken everything from his father, which, honestly, wasn't ideal. Her late daughter had confided on her deathbed that the boy's lineage had to be hidden at all costs, so the head of Shinra's science department would never find him. In the early years, the grandmother lived with the baby in a secluded house near Kalm. The few visitors they had were trusted friends, mostly members of various Avalanche groups, who would never betray her to Shinra.
But Adonis had grown, and living as a recluse wasn't healthy for a four-and-a-half-year-old. When the meteor appeared, and she learned of Hojo's death, she decided to leave the continent. A friend suggested this small, remote village.
With Hojo dead, Shinra in decline, and the boy's father gone and forgotten by most people, she thought it was finally time for Adonis to have a normal childhood. Had she been wrong? So far, for trips into town, Adonis had always worn a hat, either a cap or a beanie, depending on the season, and a pair of tinted glasses. Judging by the TURK's reaction, she had been right to do so. But what about the future?
She carefully tucked the blanket around the boy, gave him a final kiss on the temple, and returned to the sitting room.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Vincent," she said.
He responded with a hopeful smile. "There's no need to apologize."
"Anyway, you still want to know the child's story?"
He nodded, and she calmly resumed her seat on the couch.
"First, you should know it's a long story…"
"I like long stories," Vincent said, encouraging her to continue.
"Well then… it all started eight years ago. That's when my only daughter left our home for Midgar, hoping to join SOLDIER…"
"I thought SOLDIER didn't accept women?"
"No, they didn't accept women…" An impish smile spread across her lips. Reminiscing, she began her tale.
To be continued...