Well, I suppose that's technically true. He wouldn't have needed to lie, if they had actually been the ones to bomb the city.
Reinforcements (Final Fantasy VII/Final Fantasy XIII)
- Thread starter Driven by Apathy
- Start date
- Location
- Norfolk, England
Quote mining. You gotta love it! 
Kindly go choke on your daddy issues, Barty.
Kindly go choke on your daddy issues, Barty.
Driven by Apathy
Formerly known as Brain_Caster
It's funny how saying something like that makes people assume you're actually telling the truth, isn't it? At least in fiction.
The fact that he literally said to them that he already lied to them but a few minutes ago makes it clear how gullible they are (or in the inverse how many years he practised deception.)
Chapter 21: Into Darkness
Driven by Apathy
Formerly known as Brain_Caster
AN: I don't know why, but for some reason I got stuck on the last 700 words of this for more than 3 weeks. Very annoying.
-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 21: Into Darkness
To Lightning's great surprise, so far their flight to Sunleth Waterscape had been as uneventful as they could possibly have wished for.
They'd commandeered a PSICOM airship in Palumpolum, a troop transport of some sort that had seemingly been abandoned in the chaos following their little scrap with the military, the previous owners either dead or having fled by some other method. Rosch's codes had worked as advertised, they'd taken off without incident. No interceptors had appeared to shoot them down, no hostile airships were shadowing them and they hadn't even been challenged to identify themselves by radio. PSICOM was apparently still struggling to get its shit together.
Any Guardian Corps unit performing this poorly would promptly have died from shame, in Lightning's entirely unbiased opinion.
Not that she was complaining. A quiet flight over Gapra Whitewood was far preferable to being shot at after all. Considerably less exciting perhaps, but she certainly hadn't been suffering from a shortage of excitement in her life recently. In different circumstances she might even have enjoyed the beautiful vista of the Whitewood at night.
"So, Sunleth Waterscape." Cloud quietly interrupted her thoughts, "What exactly is it?"
"It's a nature preserve." she responded. "Not that far from here, we'll reach it quickly. Forested, lots of water. I did a few missions there during training, exterminating monsters and such. Some Gremlins, some Hedge Frogs, nothing too dangerous. Though the Flandragoras are always unpleasant to deal with."
"Flandragoras?"
"A subspecies of Flan. They're made out of the stuff in that dish you ate at that restaurant."
"Wait, what?" There was an awkward pause. "No, on second thought don't answer that. I'm happier not knowing."
"Right. Just forget I said anything."
Before long the tall white trees of Gapra Whitewood gave way to the lush green forests of Sunleth Waterscape. Not that most people could have seen it in this darkness and from the air. Lightning and Cloud were not most people. Which was fortunate, because Rosch hadn't been able to tell them where exactly the Palamecia had gone down.
Still, finding a ship of that size? Shouldn't be too hard. The Palamecia was almost a kilometer long, Lightning figured it would have made more than just a dent when it crashed into the forest. And Sunleth Waterscape wasn't a particularly large region.
"See anything?" she asked Cloud, who seemed to be watching the horizon while she was steering the ship.
No response.
"Cloud? Do you see anything?"
"Hmm? Ah, sorry. Distracted. No, no sign of it yet."
Yes, distracted. Come to think of it, he'd seemed distracted for most of the flight. Broody, even.
No. No, that was nonsense. There was no reason for Cloud to be broody. Things were looking up. They finally had a goal worth fighting for now.
She dismissed such thoughts from her mind and went back to searching for the Palamecia's crash site. They'd need a disguise when the time came to infiltrate the flagship. Hmm, hadn't she seen some PSICOM armor in their current ride's cargo hold?
She'd keep her eyes on the target. Find the archive. Determine Cloud's focus.
-----------------------------------------------
Sergeant Brook was bored. A strange state of being for someone watching the scene of the greatest disaster that had befallen Cocoon's Skyfleet in some time, to be sure. But even so.
Before him stretched the fallen Palamecia, in all its ruined glory. The enormous bulk of the ship was impressive even now, a colossal mountain of metal marring the landscape. But the ship was in a sorry state. Both of the two massive nacelles had been outright ripped off the main hull when it hit the ground, dragging a massive scar into the local forest. The main hull looked barely any better, though at least it was in one piece. They were still finding survivors, or so Brook had been told. Not like anything ever happened here at the backside of what was left of the ship. Just him and his boys standing guard and killing time.
"Oy, Brigins. Get your dirty ass over here, break's over!"
"Got it, Sarge. Hey, do you know those guys over there?"
Brook turned around to take a look. Sure as hell, two people were approaching from the forest. PSICOM, judging by their armor. Brook hated those guys. Arrogant assholes, the lot of them. Always acted like they were somehow better than the Corps and Fleet.
"Hey! What are you PSICOM screwups doing here?" he called out to them while moving to bar their path. "This is a fleet operation."
One of the PSICOM soldiers turned their head, looking at the fallen Palamecia. "I can see that." she commented, and even with the helmet obstructing her face Brook could tell by the voice that she was indeed a she. Not many of those in PSICOM. Not many women in the military in general, but even less in PSICOM than in the other branches.
He'd have to be polite this time. Wouldn't do to be rude to a Lady, even if she was PSICOM scu... even if she was PSICOM.
"We're on monster slaying duty." she continued. "Surroundings are clear now, but supposedly some of them are already inside."
"Not what I heard." Brook frowned. Something was fishy here. "Look, I don't care. This is a fleet operation, PSICOM can go bug... PSICOM can leave. So unless you've got one of these," he tapped the emblem on the chest piece of his Skyfleet standard issue armor, "you ain't getting inside."
The two PSICOM troopers before him exchanged an omnious look with each other.
"That's useful information." said the male trooper. "Thanks."
There was movement too swift for Sergeant Brook to follow. Then darkness.
When he regained consciousness a few hours later, he found that he and Briggins had both been tied up and hidden in a nearby ditch. The rest of his squad, who had been dispersed over the area nearby, were also there, having fared no better. They'd all been relieved of their helmets - and with those, crucially, the built-in radios and thus the ability to call for help. What's more, two of his men had also been stripped of their armor. Armor which just so happened to be about the right size for the two people Brook had last been talking to.
Fucking PSICOM. He should have known they couldn't be trusted.
-----------------------------------------------
If there had been any survivors here, then by now it was far too late for them.
It was utterly dark inside the Palamecia - as was to be expected with the ship having lost power. Lightning had used Rosch's PADD as a flashlight at first, but it quickly became apparent that neither of them needed it. They could see just fine in the dark.
The Palamecia's hull had not survived the impact without some serious damage. More than once they had to climb over fallen heaps of steel that had once been walkways or squeeze through the twisted remnants of corridors. Apart from the place being thoroughly trashed, the areas deeper inside this part of the ship were filled with... some substance in the air Cloud didn't know the term for, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't have been healthy to breathe it in. He had no idea what it was. Some chemical weapon that had escaped containment? Fumes from the ship's fuel tanks?
Whatever its nature, the murky fog had a certain disgusting shade of greyish green to it that just screamed 'poison' to anyone who looked at it. And there was a lot of it. It was thick enough in the air that it was impossible to see for more than a dozen meters or so.
Maybe the filters in their pilfered helmets would have been enough to keep them safe. Or maybe supernatural l'Cie constitution and Mako-enhancement would have rendered them immune. Either way, Cloud wasn't willing to take the risk. In addition to the protection of Materia-based Resist spells, he and Lightning were currently surrounded by a large bubble of magically cleaned air that moved with them.
The instinctual ease with which he could use such magic now was truly amazing. When it came to magically manipulating the movement, moisture and temperature of air, using magic felt almost as natural as moving an arm or leg. Lightning had a similar talent with electricity... or to stop denying the obvious, Lightning had a talent with lightning, just as Cloud had power over clouds.
He couldn't quite recall where he'd heard it, but perhaps there was some truth to the claim that names had power.
In any case, the mark of a l'Cie really was an enormous help in some ways.
Too bad it was also slowly killing them.
"Cloud? Look, over there." Apparently Lightning had seen something.
"Bodies." he said, noticing the inanimate shapes in the corridor ahead.
They moved closer, the harsh sound on their steps on the metal floor breaking the silence in the dark corridor. There were five dead bodies, all members of the Palamecia's crew judging by their uniforms.
"Whatever killed them wasn't human." Lightning commented as she and Cloud approached. It was easy to see why. The wounds that had killed those people were truly gruesome and did not look like they had been caused by any human weapon. Limbs had been ripped off rather than cut. Bones had been crushed by heavy bludgeoning force. No gunshot wounds on any of them. There was a lot of blood, of course. All the signs of a successful monster attack of some sort.
He had become numb to this kind of thing over the years, he guessed. Lightning had either seen similar things or her lack of a visible reaction was simply due to her excellent self-control. Or maybe both.
There was the sound of something heavy hitting metal in the dark. A single, thudding 'clang'. Their vision hampered by the murky fog, even the eyes of two l'Cie couldn't make out the source.
Then it happened again: 'Clang'.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Those were steps, he realized. Something heavy and slow approaching with a sluggish gait, under cover of darkness and poisonous fog.
It was a situation straight out of a horror movie, but with one crucial difference: Instead of huddling in terror in some corner, the two intended "victims" were calmly waiting for the monster to show itself, weapons ready to dispatch whatever foolish gribbly was looking to pick a fight with them. Neither of them was particularly worried.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Next to Cloud, Lightning briefly glanced at him and started impatiently tapping her foot. He sighed.
"Yeah, yeah. I get your point." With a wave of his hand he sent a gust of wind to scatter the fog obscuring their enemy.
And then his blood ran cold.
It was tall, easily two meters. Roughly humanoid, but twisted and disfigured, with arms that were too long and spindly, misshapen legs. In place of fingers, it had blood-crusted claws, instead of flesh and and skin there was a dirty crystalline mass.
A Cie'th. The final stage of a l'Cie's transformation.
Cloud had seen pictures, of course. Back at PSICOM headquarters, when he was doing research on the l'Cie and their foci. Encyclopedia entries that described in grisly detail the fate of a l'Cie who failed to complete their focus. But even the most evocative wording would never have been able to do the reality of it justice.
He could see it. He could see the lifestream trapped in agonizing torment inside something that had once been a person, unable to escape. If there was one small mercy, it was that the soul inside this creatu... no, this thing was probably no longer capable of consciously experiencing it's current state of existence.
With slow, arduous steps, the lumbering abomination kept stumbling into the direction of its intended victims.
Where normally he'd have thrown a spell or charged in, Cloud instead found himself staring in horror at the utter wrongness before him. Lightning was not so affected, or if she was, then at least not for long. In the space of an eyeblink she darted forward and bisected the pitiable thing with her sword. The two halves impacted on the ground with a dull thud and died. And just like that, it was over.
"A Cie'th." said Lightning, sounding... almost eager? "We're close."
Cloud's face must have shown his lack of understanding, because after looking at him for a few a few moments she went on to explain.
"Close to the archive. A Cie'th means there was a l'Cie here. A l'Cie would have been made by a fal'Cie. If there's a fal'Cie inside the Palamecia, it would be in a high security zone. Which is where Rosch said the archive would be, so..."
"Oh." That made sense, he guessed.
"Come on." and with that she was gone, not even pausing to see if he was actually following her.
Didn't she understand? Hadn't she seen?
This was what was going to happen to her!
Reduced to nothing but a tormented soul, trapped inside the crystallized ruins of her own body and lifeforce. The broken remnant of a person, with no hope of salvation or even just a mouth to scream with.
But Lightning didn't even seem to care. She was too busy finding a way to save him from the same fate, and Cocoon from destruction.
He knew it was irrational, stupid and downright childish. Selfish too, in its own strangely twisted way. But as he followed her into the darkness the only thing Cloud could think about was how appallingly, unspeakably unfair it was that Lightning would get to save him, while he in turn would have to watch her die.
-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 21: Into Darkness
To Lightning's great surprise, so far their flight to Sunleth Waterscape had been as uneventful as they could possibly have wished for.
They'd commandeered a PSICOM airship in Palumpolum, a troop transport of some sort that had seemingly been abandoned in the chaos following their little scrap with the military, the previous owners either dead or having fled by some other method. Rosch's codes had worked as advertised, they'd taken off without incident. No interceptors had appeared to shoot them down, no hostile airships were shadowing them and they hadn't even been challenged to identify themselves by radio. PSICOM was apparently still struggling to get its shit together.
Any Guardian Corps unit performing this poorly would promptly have died from shame, in Lightning's entirely unbiased opinion.
Not that she was complaining. A quiet flight over Gapra Whitewood was far preferable to being shot at after all. Considerably less exciting perhaps, but she certainly hadn't been suffering from a shortage of excitement in her life recently. In different circumstances she might even have enjoyed the beautiful vista of the Whitewood at night.
"So, Sunleth Waterscape." Cloud quietly interrupted her thoughts, "What exactly is it?"
"It's a nature preserve." she responded. "Not that far from here, we'll reach it quickly. Forested, lots of water. I did a few missions there during training, exterminating monsters and such. Some Gremlins, some Hedge Frogs, nothing too dangerous. Though the Flandragoras are always unpleasant to deal with."
"Flandragoras?"
"A subspecies of Flan. They're made out of the stuff in that dish you ate at that restaurant."
"Wait, what?" There was an awkward pause. "No, on second thought don't answer that. I'm happier not knowing."
"Right. Just forget I said anything."
Before long the tall white trees of Gapra Whitewood gave way to the lush green forests of Sunleth Waterscape. Not that most people could have seen it in this darkness and from the air. Lightning and Cloud were not most people. Which was fortunate, because Rosch hadn't been able to tell them where exactly the Palamecia had gone down.
Still, finding a ship of that size? Shouldn't be too hard. The Palamecia was almost a kilometer long, Lightning figured it would have made more than just a dent when it crashed into the forest. And Sunleth Waterscape wasn't a particularly large region.
"See anything?" she asked Cloud, who seemed to be watching the horizon while she was steering the ship.
No response.
"Cloud? Do you see anything?"
"Hmm? Ah, sorry. Distracted. No, no sign of it yet."
Yes, distracted. Come to think of it, he'd seemed distracted for most of the flight. Broody, even.
No. No, that was nonsense. There was no reason for Cloud to be broody. Things were looking up. They finally had a goal worth fighting for now.
She dismissed such thoughts from her mind and went back to searching for the Palamecia's crash site. They'd need a disguise when the time came to infiltrate the flagship. Hmm, hadn't she seen some PSICOM armor in their current ride's cargo hold?
She'd keep her eyes on the target. Find the archive. Determine Cloud's focus.
-----------------------------------------------
Sergeant Brook was bored. A strange state of being for someone watching the scene of the greatest disaster that had befallen Cocoon's Skyfleet in some time, to be sure. But even so.
Before him stretched the fallen Palamecia, in all its ruined glory. The enormous bulk of the ship was impressive even now, a colossal mountain of metal marring the landscape. But the ship was in a sorry state. Both of the two massive nacelles had been outright ripped off the main hull when it hit the ground, dragging a massive scar into the local forest. The main hull looked barely any better, though at least it was in one piece. They were still finding survivors, or so Brook had been told. Not like anything ever happened here at the backside of what was left of the ship. Just him and his boys standing guard and killing time.
"Oy, Brigins. Get your dirty ass over here, break's over!"
"Got it, Sarge. Hey, do you know those guys over there?"
Brook turned around to take a look. Sure as hell, two people were approaching from the forest. PSICOM, judging by their armor. Brook hated those guys. Arrogant assholes, the lot of them. Always acted like they were somehow better than the Corps and Fleet.
"Hey! What are you PSICOM screwups doing here?" he called out to them while moving to bar their path. "This is a fleet operation."
One of the PSICOM soldiers turned their head, looking at the fallen Palamecia. "I can see that." she commented, and even with the helmet obstructing her face Brook could tell by the voice that she was indeed a she. Not many of those in PSICOM. Not many women in the military in general, but even less in PSICOM than in the other branches.
He'd have to be polite this time. Wouldn't do to be rude to a Lady, even if she was PSICOM scu... even if she was PSICOM.
"We're on monster slaying duty." she continued. "Surroundings are clear now, but supposedly some of them are already inside."
"Not what I heard." Brook frowned. Something was fishy here. "Look, I don't care. This is a fleet operation, PSICOM can go bug... PSICOM can leave. So unless you've got one of these," he tapped the emblem on the chest piece of his Skyfleet standard issue armor, "you ain't getting inside."
The two PSICOM troopers before him exchanged an omnious look with each other.
"That's useful information." said the male trooper. "Thanks."
There was movement too swift for Sergeant Brook to follow. Then darkness.
When he regained consciousness a few hours later, he found that he and Briggins had both been tied up and hidden in a nearby ditch. The rest of his squad, who had been dispersed over the area nearby, were also there, having fared no better. They'd all been relieved of their helmets - and with those, crucially, the built-in radios and thus the ability to call for help. What's more, two of his men had also been stripped of their armor. Armor which just so happened to be about the right size for the two people Brook had last been talking to.
Fucking PSICOM. He should have known they couldn't be trusted.
-----------------------------------------------
If there had been any survivors here, then by now it was far too late for them.
It was utterly dark inside the Palamecia - as was to be expected with the ship having lost power. Lightning had used Rosch's PADD as a flashlight at first, but it quickly became apparent that neither of them needed it. They could see just fine in the dark.
The Palamecia's hull had not survived the impact without some serious damage. More than once they had to climb over fallen heaps of steel that had once been walkways or squeeze through the twisted remnants of corridors. Apart from the place being thoroughly trashed, the areas deeper inside this part of the ship were filled with... some substance in the air Cloud didn't know the term for, but he was pretty sure it wouldn't have been healthy to breathe it in. He had no idea what it was. Some chemical weapon that had escaped containment? Fumes from the ship's fuel tanks?
Whatever its nature, the murky fog had a certain disgusting shade of greyish green to it that just screamed 'poison' to anyone who looked at it. And there was a lot of it. It was thick enough in the air that it was impossible to see for more than a dozen meters or so.
Maybe the filters in their pilfered helmets would have been enough to keep them safe. Or maybe supernatural l'Cie constitution and Mako-enhancement would have rendered them immune. Either way, Cloud wasn't willing to take the risk. In addition to the protection of Materia-based Resist spells, he and Lightning were currently surrounded by a large bubble of magically cleaned air that moved with them.
The instinctual ease with which he could use such magic now was truly amazing. When it came to magically manipulating the movement, moisture and temperature of air, using magic felt almost as natural as moving an arm or leg. Lightning had a similar talent with electricity... or to stop denying the obvious, Lightning had a talent with lightning, just as Cloud had power over clouds.
He couldn't quite recall where he'd heard it, but perhaps there was some truth to the claim that names had power.
In any case, the mark of a l'Cie really was an enormous help in some ways.
Too bad it was also slowly killing them.
"Cloud? Look, over there." Apparently Lightning had seen something.
"Bodies." he said, noticing the inanimate shapes in the corridor ahead.
They moved closer, the harsh sound on their steps on the metal floor breaking the silence in the dark corridor. There were five dead bodies, all members of the Palamecia's crew judging by their uniforms.
"Whatever killed them wasn't human." Lightning commented as she and Cloud approached. It was easy to see why. The wounds that had killed those people were truly gruesome and did not look like they had been caused by any human weapon. Limbs had been ripped off rather than cut. Bones had been crushed by heavy bludgeoning force. No gunshot wounds on any of them. There was a lot of blood, of course. All the signs of a successful monster attack of some sort.
He had become numb to this kind of thing over the years, he guessed. Lightning had either seen similar things or her lack of a visible reaction was simply due to her excellent self-control. Or maybe both.
There was the sound of something heavy hitting metal in the dark. A single, thudding 'clang'. Their vision hampered by the murky fog, even the eyes of two l'Cie couldn't make out the source.
Then it happened again: 'Clang'.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Those were steps, he realized. Something heavy and slow approaching with a sluggish gait, under cover of darkness and poisonous fog.
It was a situation straight out of a horror movie, but with one crucial difference: Instead of huddling in terror in some corner, the two intended "victims" were calmly waiting for the monster to show itself, weapons ready to dispatch whatever foolish gribbly was looking to pick a fight with them. Neither of them was particularly worried.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
Next to Cloud, Lightning briefly glanced at him and started impatiently tapping her foot. He sighed.
"Yeah, yeah. I get your point." With a wave of his hand he sent a gust of wind to scatter the fog obscuring their enemy.
And then his blood ran cold.
It was tall, easily two meters. Roughly humanoid, but twisted and disfigured, with arms that were too long and spindly, misshapen legs. In place of fingers, it had blood-crusted claws, instead of flesh and and skin there was a dirty crystalline mass.
A Cie'th. The final stage of a l'Cie's transformation.
Cloud had seen pictures, of course. Back at PSICOM headquarters, when he was doing research on the l'Cie and their foci. Encyclopedia entries that described in grisly detail the fate of a l'Cie who failed to complete their focus. But even the most evocative wording would never have been able to do the reality of it justice.
He could see it. He could see the lifestream trapped in agonizing torment inside something that had once been a person, unable to escape. If there was one small mercy, it was that the soul inside this creatu... no, this thing was probably no longer capable of consciously experiencing it's current state of existence.
With slow, arduous steps, the lumbering abomination kept stumbling into the direction of its intended victims.
Where normally he'd have thrown a spell or charged in, Cloud instead found himself staring in horror at the utter wrongness before him. Lightning was not so affected, or if she was, then at least not for long. In the space of an eyeblink she darted forward and bisected the pitiable thing with her sword. The two halves impacted on the ground with a dull thud and died. And just like that, it was over.
"A Cie'th." said Lightning, sounding... almost eager? "We're close."
Cloud's face must have shown his lack of understanding, because after looking at him for a few a few moments she went on to explain.
"Close to the archive. A Cie'th means there was a l'Cie here. A l'Cie would have been made by a fal'Cie. If there's a fal'Cie inside the Palamecia, it would be in a high security zone. Which is where Rosch said the archive would be, so..."
"Oh." That made sense, he guessed.
"Come on." and with that she was gone, not even pausing to see if he was actually following her.
Didn't she understand? Hadn't she seen?
This was what was going to happen to her!
Reduced to nothing but a tormented soul, trapped inside the crystallized ruins of her own body and lifeforce. The broken remnant of a person, with no hope of salvation or even just a mouth to scream with.
But Lightning didn't even seem to care. She was too busy finding a way to save him from the same fate, and Cocoon from destruction.
He knew it was irrational, stupid and downright childish. Selfish too, in its own strangely twisted way. But as he followed her into the darkness the only thing Cloud could think about was how appallingly, unspeakably unfair it was that Lightning would get to save him, while he in turn would have to watch her die.
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Strunkriidiisk
THE LEGEND
- Location
- Canada
- Pronouns
- He/Him
That's quitter talk, Cloud.
- Location
- NY
well it's not cloud without some sad emotes, still i would think he would be thinking of a way to save her as well and not just resigning her to death.
Chapter 22: At the End of the Tunnel
Driven by Apathy
Formerly known as Brain_Caster
Surprise update from nowhere incoming in 3, 2, 1...
(Many thanks to TimeDiver for beta-reading this before I posted it)
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Chapter 22: At the End of the Tunnel
When they found what they were looking for, at first, it all seemed a bit underwhelming to Lightning.
The hall was neither small, nor gigantic. About the size of a common gym like any of the ones belonging to Bodhum's various schools. It was dimly lit by orange emergency lighting. On one end the door through which they had entered, on the other an armored security door to what had to be their destination.
There had been a fal'Cie guarding the entrance to the archive, yes. It took the shape of a simple dodecahedron about twice as tall as a human, made of some marble-colored, yet metallic material, and with androgynous faces in gold sculpted on its otherwise flat surfaces. Beautiful in the same ostentatious way all Cocoon fal'Cie were... and dead as a doornail.
It was also surrounded by Cie'th, but that was a solvable problem. Lighting charged right in, cutting the creatures down one by one as she systematically cleared the room. It was not a difficult battle, and it was over almost as quickly as it had begun.
When the last of the crystalline monstrosities went down, she turned around just in time to witness Cloud examining the fallen fal'Cie in the middle of the chamber. Sheathing her sword, she walked up to him.
"It probably died in the crash." Lightning opined. "Must have been hooked into the Palamecia's main power system. Most large airships have a fal'Cie or two somewhere."
"And when the ship crashed... it just died? Why? It doesn't seem damaged... injured... on the outside. At least some of the crew survived, and the fal'Cie are sturdier, aren't they?"
She shrugged and thought of half-remembered lessons from years ago at school. "The fal'Cie aren't really made to exist independently like humans are. They all have a function they're tied up in some way. Produce food, produce material, provide power, relay power, control complex computer systems... stuff like that. I guess some of them are so tied up in it, they literally can't live without it."
"So this one died because the Palamecia was destroyed, and it only ever lived to keep the ship running?"
Again, she shrugged. "I guess? It was probably connected to the ship's systems in some way."
"Why did it do this?" he asked in a quiet tone, and the question seemed to be aimed at the dead fal'Cie as much as at her.
"Why did it do what?" What was he talking about?
"This!" Cloud made a sweeping motion at the piteous remains of the creatures all around them. "A Cie'th is a l'Cie who fails their focus, right? Which means this thing turned an entire bunch of people into l'Cie. Probably did it while the Palamecia was going down, and their focus would have been something unachievable, like keeping it alive. Why bother? There was no possible way they could have saved it. Did it do it out of hate? Despair? It all seems so senseless."
Lightning had no idea. "Does it matter? The fal'Cie are evil, that much clear by now, isn't it?"
Cloud didn't respond. A few moments of awkward silence passed between them, just standing there in front of the dead fal'Cie, when suddenly a question popped up in her mind.
"Are you going to do the thing again?"
He looked at her in blatant incomprehension.
"The thing with that magic orb. After you killed Carbuncle. What did you call it? Materia?"
"Oh!" his hand went for the small bag where he kept the round greenish object. As he held it out in front of him, it soon began to glow with a soft light and Lightning sensed the unmistakable flow of magic in the air, just as she had in the nutriculture complex beneath Palumpolum.
(Strange, to think that that had happened less than 24 hours ago. It had felt much longer.)
And something changed. A part of her soul that had registered only dreary lifeless gray a moment before now suddenly sensed vibrant color. She didn't understand how or what had happened, but it was undeniably a good change.
"So... what exactly does that thing do? It feels right somehow, but I have no idea what just happened."
He seemed to stare into the depths of the semi-translucent orb for a few moments. "Materia are crystallized mako. If you know how to use them, you can use them to draw on the Lifestream and cast spells with them. They can be produced artificially from refined mako, but the ones found at natural mako springs generally produce the best results."
"And this one? What does it do?"
"I found it in that tunnel that led us into Gapra Whitewood. I think it's meant to reverse whatever the fal'Cie's presence is doing to the Lifestream."
"And the Lifestream is... something like a god in your world, right?"
"Kinda? The Lifestream is... I know a scientist named Bugenhagen, and he spent a lot of time researching it. He calls it 'the substrate of the afterlife'. Basically, everyone who dies becomes part of the Lifestream and keeps existing there in some form."
"You think that's true?" Lightning had never been very religious. She knew that the fal'Cie were supposedly the servants of the Maker, sent to shepherd and protect humans, that the Sanctum ruled (in theory) in the Maker's name, and that Gran Pulse was supposed to have its own evil god, jealous of his benevolent sibling and their creations. But it was all mere theory to her. The gods had never shown any interest in her or her affairs, so why should she be interested in them?
"I know it's true. It's a bit hard to argue with the facts when I've seen proof time and again."
He hadn't gone into detail about the overarching reasons behind the events of his life in that other world when they'd talked for hours in that restaurant in Palumpolum. They'd talked about people precious, moments that remained in memory, plans and hopes they had had at some point. Not about what it all meant in the large picture of things. That would have ruined their moment of escape.
But there were enough pieces for Lightning to put together to understand that Cloud probably knew what he was talking about.
Proof. Proof for the existence of an afterlife. Considering her situation, Lightning should probably have found the thought heartening. So why couldn't she shake of the feeling that something was terribly wrong?
"We should get going." she said, banishing those distractions from her mind. The entrance to the archive was right there on the other side of the room, a heavily armored door with a built-in numeric key-pad.
Finally, they were making real progress.
-----------------------------------------------
Cloud hadn't been quite sure what to expect. Probably something like an armored vault with a highly secured computer inside, isolated from any networks. Maybe even a physical library with old fashioned (well, old fashioned on Cocoon) books made from actual paper.
But not this.
When they had entered Rosch's access codes, the massive armored blast door had opened slowly and ponderously. Unaffected by the sate of the rest of the ship, the mechanism clearly had some kind of independent power supply.
What neither of them had expected was for the opened door to reveal... a completely bare metal wall.
He'd just stood there in gobsmacked silence for a few seconds. Next to him, Lightning emitted a scream made from pure, distilled rage and planted her fist in the gray metal before them.
Then, with a shrill piercing sound, the edges of the infuriating wall-behind-a-door suddenly lit up. Cloud had just enough time to sling an arm around Lightning and abruptly pull her back before the entire door was suddenly filled with a shimmering mirror-like energy field. They ended up tripping over each others' feet and falling to the floor in a rather undignified way.
"Wh... what the hell?" Lightning's anger gave way to confusion.
"It's some kind of portal? I think." As advanced as Cocoon's technology seemed to be in many fields, this was new. "Have you ever seen something like this before?"
"No. I thought Rosch had tricked us for a moment."
"I noticed."
"Hn. Whatever." she replied, sounding like somebody embarrassed, who was trying not to sound embarrassed. She wasn't very good at it.
Cloud mercifully refrained from commenting further. For a few moments, neither of them said anything nor moved, until he noticed that he still had his arm wrapped around her and they were currently pressed tightly against each other.
He let go. She began to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs they'd become, got back on her feet and offered him a hand to pull him up, which he accepted.
"I'm lucky you pulled me back." she said "I think that might have taken my hand straight off if you hadn't."
"Possibly. I really have to hand it to you, though, you left one hell of a handprint in that wall." he replied, feeling surprisingly mischievous all of a sudden.
Lightning didn't seem to get it at first.
"Of course, if you had gotten disarmed by that portal, you would have been playing straight into the Sanctum's hands."
She slightly inclined her head, as if to ask 'Really? Are we really doing this?'
"On the other hand, we don't actually know what would have happened. Maybe we would have discovered something that could have come in handy later."
"I think that's enough puns for now, Cloud. Don't overplay your hand." she replied with a flat look, sounding as unamused as possible, but the slight twitch of her lips gave it away.
"Fine, fine. No more puns. I know we already have our hands full with more important stuff."
"Yes. Besides, a pun contest would only have ended with me winning hands-down." She wasn't even trying to hide her smile now.
He felt himself grin. "Telling me you don't want any more puns, and now this? How underhanded of you."
For a few moments it seemed she would respond with another verbal riposte, but then she seemed to stop herself and the smile on her face abruptly vanished and was replaced by a carefully neutral expression.
"We really should get going." she said in a quiet tone.
He sighed. "Yeah."
The walked up to the suspected portal and Lightning started to test it by throwing the severed crystalline leg of a Cie'th through it. Their sudden moment of levity vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Cloud's momentary good mood vanished with it, to be once more replaced by all the worries and stress he'd almost managed to forget for one brief minute.
-----------------------------------------------
"Where are we?"
She'd have liked to know that as well.
They'd stepped through the portal after throwing some things through it first. When they'd emerged on the other side... the place was nothing like the Palamecia.
They stood on a platform about the same size as the room they'd just left. Behind them was the portal they'd entered through. In front and above them was cerulean blue sky. To the left and right of them was cerulean blue sky. Below them... yet more of the same.
It was eerie, and eerily beautiful.
"Some kind of other world? A pocket dimension? It's like something straight out of a fantasy film."
Though her life wasn't a film, she was quite certain of that. It was far too messy for that of late. She'd not had much time for that kind of diversion after her parents died, but Serah had managed to drag her into a cinema once. It had been some kind of quasi-historical flick set during the War of Transgression.
The hero had been a Cocoon l'Cie, fighting heroically against the Pulsian hordes. He'd been tall, with silver hair and perfect looks, but not a lot of smarts. He'd never doubted, never hesitated, and never given up hope for a happy ending. Serah had adored him.
His love-interest had been as mindless as she was pretty, imprisoned by the evil Pulsians and passively waiting for her knight in shining armor to rescue her so she wouldn't have to get her hands dirty. In the end, it had taken a ludicrous plot device in the form of divine intervention by the Maker to save them both. The whole story had made Lightning feel vaguely disgusted.
The visuals had been good, though. The music as well.
And there had been a happy ending. She'd settle for something like that right now. Hell, even bittersweet would be more than acceptable.
Cloud was still looking around, taking in the empty sky all around them. There was some kind of computer at the center of the platform. She walked up to it, and read the words on the monitor.
'Central Cocoon fal'Cie Database – enter access code to continue.'
"That's it! Cloud, come here! We found it!"
(Many thanks to TimeDiver for beta-reading this before I posted it)
-----------------------------------------------
Chapter 22: At the End of the Tunnel
When they found what they were looking for, at first, it all seemed a bit underwhelming to Lightning.
The hall was neither small, nor gigantic. About the size of a common gym like any of the ones belonging to Bodhum's various schools. It was dimly lit by orange emergency lighting. On one end the door through which they had entered, on the other an armored security door to what had to be their destination.
There had been a fal'Cie guarding the entrance to the archive, yes. It took the shape of a simple dodecahedron about twice as tall as a human, made of some marble-colored, yet metallic material, and with androgynous faces in gold sculpted on its otherwise flat surfaces. Beautiful in the same ostentatious way all Cocoon fal'Cie were... and dead as a doornail.
It was also surrounded by Cie'th, but that was a solvable problem. Lighting charged right in, cutting the creatures down one by one as she systematically cleared the room. It was not a difficult battle, and it was over almost as quickly as it had begun.
When the last of the crystalline monstrosities went down, she turned around just in time to witness Cloud examining the fallen fal'Cie in the middle of the chamber. Sheathing her sword, she walked up to him.
"It probably died in the crash." Lightning opined. "Must have been hooked into the Palamecia's main power system. Most large airships have a fal'Cie or two somewhere."
"And when the ship crashed... it just died? Why? It doesn't seem damaged... injured... on the outside. At least some of the crew survived, and the fal'Cie are sturdier, aren't they?"
She shrugged and thought of half-remembered lessons from years ago at school. "The fal'Cie aren't really made to exist independently like humans are. They all have a function they're tied up in some way. Produce food, produce material, provide power, relay power, control complex computer systems... stuff like that. I guess some of them are so tied up in it, they literally can't live without it."
"So this one died because the Palamecia was destroyed, and it only ever lived to keep the ship running?"
Again, she shrugged. "I guess? It was probably connected to the ship's systems in some way."
"Why did it do this?" he asked in a quiet tone, and the question seemed to be aimed at the dead fal'Cie as much as at her.
"Why did it do what?" What was he talking about?
"This!" Cloud made a sweeping motion at the piteous remains of the creatures all around them. "A Cie'th is a l'Cie who fails their focus, right? Which means this thing turned an entire bunch of people into l'Cie. Probably did it while the Palamecia was going down, and their focus would have been something unachievable, like keeping it alive. Why bother? There was no possible way they could have saved it. Did it do it out of hate? Despair? It all seems so senseless."
Lightning had no idea. "Does it matter? The fal'Cie are evil, that much clear by now, isn't it?"
Cloud didn't respond. A few moments of awkward silence passed between them, just standing there in front of the dead fal'Cie, when suddenly a question popped up in her mind.
"Are you going to do the thing again?"
He looked at her in blatant incomprehension.
"The thing with that magic orb. After you killed Carbuncle. What did you call it? Materia?"
"Oh!" his hand went for the small bag where he kept the round greenish object. As he held it out in front of him, it soon began to glow with a soft light and Lightning sensed the unmistakable flow of magic in the air, just as she had in the nutriculture complex beneath Palumpolum.
(Strange, to think that that had happened less than 24 hours ago. It had felt much longer.)
And something changed. A part of her soul that had registered only dreary lifeless gray a moment before now suddenly sensed vibrant color. She didn't understand how or what had happened, but it was undeniably a good change.
"So... what exactly does that thing do? It feels right somehow, but I have no idea what just happened."
He seemed to stare into the depths of the semi-translucent orb for a few moments. "Materia are crystallized mako. If you know how to use them, you can use them to draw on the Lifestream and cast spells with them. They can be produced artificially from refined mako, but the ones found at natural mako springs generally produce the best results."
"And this one? What does it do?"
"I found it in that tunnel that led us into Gapra Whitewood. I think it's meant to reverse whatever the fal'Cie's presence is doing to the Lifestream."
"And the Lifestream is... something like a god in your world, right?"
"Kinda? The Lifestream is... I know a scientist named Bugenhagen, and he spent a lot of time researching it. He calls it 'the substrate of the afterlife'. Basically, everyone who dies becomes part of the Lifestream and keeps existing there in some form."
"You think that's true?" Lightning had never been very religious. She knew that the fal'Cie were supposedly the servants of the Maker, sent to shepherd and protect humans, that the Sanctum ruled (in theory) in the Maker's name, and that Gran Pulse was supposed to have its own evil god, jealous of his benevolent sibling and their creations. But it was all mere theory to her. The gods had never shown any interest in her or her affairs, so why should she be interested in them?
"I know it's true. It's a bit hard to argue with the facts when I've seen proof time and again."
He hadn't gone into detail about the overarching reasons behind the events of his life in that other world when they'd talked for hours in that restaurant in Palumpolum. They'd talked about people precious, moments that remained in memory, plans and hopes they had had at some point. Not about what it all meant in the large picture of things. That would have ruined their moment of escape.
But there were enough pieces for Lightning to put together to understand that Cloud probably knew what he was talking about.
Proof. Proof for the existence of an afterlife. Considering her situation, Lightning should probably have found the thought heartening. So why couldn't she shake of the feeling that something was terribly wrong?
"We should get going." she said, banishing those distractions from her mind. The entrance to the archive was right there on the other side of the room, a heavily armored door with a built-in numeric key-pad.
Finally, they were making real progress.
-----------------------------------------------
Cloud hadn't been quite sure what to expect. Probably something like an armored vault with a highly secured computer inside, isolated from any networks. Maybe even a physical library with old fashioned (well, old fashioned on Cocoon) books made from actual paper.
But not this.
When they had entered Rosch's access codes, the massive armored blast door had opened slowly and ponderously. Unaffected by the sate of the rest of the ship, the mechanism clearly had some kind of independent power supply.
What neither of them had expected was for the opened door to reveal... a completely bare metal wall.
He'd just stood there in gobsmacked silence for a few seconds. Next to him, Lightning emitted a scream made from pure, distilled rage and planted her fist in the gray metal before them.
Then, with a shrill piercing sound, the edges of the infuriating wall-behind-a-door suddenly lit up. Cloud had just enough time to sling an arm around Lightning and abruptly pull her back before the entire door was suddenly filled with a shimmering mirror-like energy field. They ended up tripping over each others' feet and falling to the floor in a rather undignified way.
"Wh... what the hell?" Lightning's anger gave way to confusion.
"It's some kind of portal? I think." As advanced as Cocoon's technology seemed to be in many fields, this was new. "Have you ever seen something like this before?"
"No. I thought Rosch had tricked us for a moment."
"I noticed."
"Hn. Whatever." she replied, sounding like somebody embarrassed, who was trying not to sound embarrassed. She wasn't very good at it.
Cloud mercifully refrained from commenting further. For a few moments, neither of them said anything nor moved, until he noticed that he still had his arm wrapped around her and they were currently pressed tightly against each other.
He let go. She began to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs they'd become, got back on her feet and offered him a hand to pull him up, which he accepted.
"I'm lucky you pulled me back." she said "I think that might have taken my hand straight off if you hadn't."
"Possibly. I really have to hand it to you, though, you left one hell of a handprint in that wall." he replied, feeling surprisingly mischievous all of a sudden.
Lightning didn't seem to get it at first.
"Of course, if you had gotten disarmed by that portal, you would have been playing straight into the Sanctum's hands."
She slightly inclined her head, as if to ask 'Really? Are we really doing this?'
"On the other hand, we don't actually know what would have happened. Maybe we would have discovered something that could have come in handy later."
"I think that's enough puns for now, Cloud. Don't overplay your hand." she replied with a flat look, sounding as unamused as possible, but the slight twitch of her lips gave it away.
"Fine, fine. No more puns. I know we already have our hands full with more important stuff."
"Yes. Besides, a pun contest would only have ended with me winning hands-down." She wasn't even trying to hide her smile now.
He felt himself grin. "Telling me you don't want any more puns, and now this? How underhanded of you."
For a few moments it seemed she would respond with another verbal riposte, but then she seemed to stop herself and the smile on her face abruptly vanished and was replaced by a carefully neutral expression.
"We really should get going." she said in a quiet tone.
He sighed. "Yeah."
The walked up to the suspected portal and Lightning started to test it by throwing the severed crystalline leg of a Cie'th through it. Their sudden moment of levity vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and Cloud's momentary good mood vanished with it, to be once more replaced by all the worries and stress he'd almost managed to forget for one brief minute.
-----------------------------------------------
"Where are we?"
She'd have liked to know that as well.
They'd stepped through the portal after throwing some things through it first. When they'd emerged on the other side... the place was nothing like the Palamecia.
They stood on a platform about the same size as the room they'd just left. Behind them was the portal they'd entered through. In front and above them was cerulean blue sky. To the left and right of them was cerulean blue sky. Below them... yet more of the same.
It was eerie, and eerily beautiful.
"Some kind of other world? A pocket dimension? It's like something straight out of a fantasy film."
Though her life wasn't a film, she was quite certain of that. It was far too messy for that of late. She'd not had much time for that kind of diversion after her parents died, but Serah had managed to drag her into a cinema once. It had been some kind of quasi-historical flick set during the War of Transgression.
The hero had been a Cocoon l'Cie, fighting heroically against the Pulsian hordes. He'd been tall, with silver hair and perfect looks, but not a lot of smarts. He'd never doubted, never hesitated, and never given up hope for a happy ending. Serah had adored him.
His love-interest had been as mindless as she was pretty, imprisoned by the evil Pulsians and passively waiting for her knight in shining armor to rescue her so she wouldn't have to get her hands dirty. In the end, it had taken a ludicrous plot device in the form of divine intervention by the Maker to save them both. The whole story had made Lightning feel vaguely disgusted.
The visuals had been good, though. The music as well.
And there had been a happy ending. She'd settle for something like that right now. Hell, even bittersweet would be more than acceptable.
Cloud was still looking around, taking in the empty sky all around them. There was some kind of computer at the center of the platform. She walked up to it, and read the words on the monitor.
'Central Cocoon fal'Cie Database – enter access code to continue.'
"That's it! Cloud, come here! We found it!"
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Chapter 23: There is only More Darkness, and also Fire
Driven by Apathy
Formerly known as Brain_Caster
Chapter 23 incoming. Has not yet been beta-read, since I want to post it today before going to bed, and I need to rise early tomorrow.
If you feel like music, the final boss theme from FF XIII-2 (never played the game, but the soundtrack is sweet) might be appropriate for the last third.
Chapter 23: There is only More Darkness, and also Fire
At this point, Cloud would have gladly exchanged his entire materia collection for a better filing system.
They'd found the archive, alright. They had access as well, thanks to Rosch's codes.
Unfortunately that didn't mean they could actually find what they were looking for. Cloud knew what the fal'Cie in that old bunker had looked like, even if he had not recognized it for what it was at the time. He knew it had used security bots to try and kill him, before it had turned him into a l'Cie.
In short, he was looking for a house-sized octagonal prism with a large crystal eye on each side, that was located at the center of an old bunker probably going back to the War of Transgression, and that seemed to be in control of the various automated systems within that bunker.
What he didn't know was its name. Meaning he couldn't just search for that, and find the information he was looking for.
Which, considering the archive apparently contained information on in excess of 8 million fal'Cie, was kind of a problem. True, apart from a few hundred, the vast majority of those fal'Cie were nothing but glorified, barely-sentient machine parts in this or that airship, factory, or climate control system, but they still existed. Which meant they were listed in the archive. An archive with a filing system that seemed to hail straight from the dark ages, and which was depressingly lacking in options to narrow down the search criteria. Cloud suspected it had never been meant for use by humans.
After almost an hour of mostly aimless searching, he was definitely getting frustrated. Lightning had long since passed that state.
"Damnit... damnit, damnit, damnit! There has to be a way. We can't fail now! Not because of something like this."
He sighed. "This obviously isn't working. If there really are millions of fal'Cie..."
"I know!" She paced in circles like a caged tiger.
"Maybe this place is bigger than it appears at first. Did you see the panel at the portal? What if the portal can connect to other places as well?"
"Even if it does, how would that help us?" Lighting made another angry sound conveying pure frustration, then sighed. "I suppose I might als well take a look anyway."
She went to do so, and Cloud mentally prepared himself for reading through another endless mass of fal'Cie dossiers, but then though better of it. This clearly wasn't working.
In a situation like this, with no clue on how to proceed... what would Aerith do?
Almost by itself, his hand wandered to the small bag with the materia from that tunnel under Gapra Whitewood.
It really was quite obvious, wasn't it?
Trying not to feel too silly, he removed the Skyfleet issue helmet he was wearing, sat down on the cold floor, stared deeply into the green orb of crystallized lifestream in his hand, and listened.
Or tried to anyway.
For a while, the only thing he could hear was Lightning quietly cursing in the background as she fiddled with the portal controls to little success. He idly noted that she had a much larger and more creative vocabulary of rude words than he previously would have guessed. Then again, she'd been a soldier not too long ago. So thinking about it, this probably shouldn't have been such a surprise.
Maybe it was odd, but somehow the combination of Lightning's voice saying mean things about the Sanctum fal'Cie, and the soft green glow of the materia in his hands... it was strangely relaxing, really.
Before long, he lost himself in the light in his hands and the whispers in his mind that gradually ceased to sound like Lightning's voice.
-----------------------------------------------
When Cloud came to, it was dark. Curious, for there to be a day-night cycle in a place like this.
He found himself still in exactly the same position he'd sat down in... was it a few hours ago? He'd lost all feeling for the passage of time. His limbs felt numb though. It must have been some time.
He searched his memory, and what he found was, in one word, strange, and didn't make a lot of sense. In Cloud's experience, that pretty much confirmed that the Lifestream had been involved in some way. What's more, for reasons that he couldn't quite explain, one single word had stuck in his mind.
'Machai.'
It sounded like a name. An unusual and exotic name at that, the sort you'd expect to belong to a being equally unusual and exotic in nature. Like a fal'Cie. Mission success, then.
Rising from his sitting position, Cloud spend a few moments looking around.
Behind him, the portal had shut down, though the control panel was still lit. In front of him, the archive computer was still active and ready to be accessed. Beside him, Lightning was sleeping on the cold, bare ground. He must have been in his lifestream-induced trance for quite some time, then.
She had shed the stolen Skyfleet Armor and helmet, and was sleeping in the ordinary everyday wear they'd bought in Palumpolum before things had gone straight to hell. Lying on her side, she was using her arms as a pillow for her head. It couldn't have been a comfortable position, but it was probably more comfortable than going without sleep for much longer. Neither of them had been getting much rest the last few days.
Comfortable position or not, Lightning seemed to be sleeping well enough. She didn't toss or turn, and her breathing was deep and even. Good. Even l'Cie endurance had its limits.
And she looked... different, somehow.
Without really consciously deciding to, he found himself studying her, trying to pin down the reason why he suddenly felt like he was looking at someone other than the companion he'd come to know and care about in the short time they'd known each other. She had the same face, the same lean but athletic build, the same rose-colored hair. He could still tell the location of various bruises and cuts he'd healed after the fighting yesterday. And yet... something was different. What had changed?
It was startling when he realized it.
Something was missing.
That carefully maintained neutral expression that gave nothing away, until now, when its absence suddenly gave away everything. For as long as he'd known her, awake Lightning had worn an expression of perpetually suppressed unhappiness. She never allowed it to show, buried it under purpose, or anger, or defiance, but there always was this aura of constant gloom that fit her like a second skin, to the point it had never quite registered as anything unusual or noteworthy. There were brief interruptions, yes, but in the end, that had been Lightning's default state the entire time. And for now it was gone, but he knew it would return the moment she opened her eyes.
It was a shame, really. He wanted it to stay gone. Light looked so much nicer without it.
It would stay gone, he resolved. Maybe not today, but eventually there was bound to be something that could banish it. He'd been foolish to agonize over Lightning's presumed fate instead of thinking about how to best change it. Just because they were working on his focus now, it didn't mean there wouldn't be any time to go after hers too. And Lightning may not have much hope for her sister, but on this Cloud disagreed – he'd seen stranger things than a person who'd been turned to crystal, but who was otherwise intact, coming back to life.
He walked up to the computer in the center of the room, entered the access codes, and searched for 'Machai'. Sure enough, there was a hit.
'Machai, Overseer of Battle' read the information on the screen. There was a picture too, confirming that this was the fal'Cie he was looking for.
Machai, it appeared, was some sort of fal'Cie general. He was not optimized for combat, but rather to command and direct a massive number of automated systems and troops. Rather high in the fal'Cie hierarchy, he answered only to a fal'Cie called Barthandelus. During the War of Transgression, Machai had been in charge of entire armies and dozens of l'Cie.
It's ultimate purpose had been...
'Machai's focus, and the focus of his l'Cie, is the elimination of all Pulse l'Cie to transgress against Cocoon's sanctity."
No...
No, no, no...
Never!
Not even if she told him to. Lifestream, she probably would tell him to, if she thought that was the only way to save both him and Cocoon!
He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He could barely stand.
The l'Cie brand on his back burned like fire. He felt like he was melting.
Patterns of burning-bright golden yellow light blazed into existence all around him even as his legs failed him and he fell to his knees.
Then the light abruptly collapsed and solidified into something solid. It was a sword. A very, very familiar sword, or more precisely, an entire assembly of familiar swords. But it had changed. Gleaming steel had been subtly accented with gold. A blade that could already cut skyscrapers in the right hands had acquired the otherworldly quality of something that was somehow more real than reality.
Holding the blade by it's handle was a pale apparition of golden light. Mostly transparent, its form was nevertheless an unmistakeable reflection of Cloud's own likeness.
Eidolon, supplied the part of Cloud's subconscious most touched by his powers as a l'Cie. An envoy of mercy, come to offer the only escape left.
Gattai Ken, disagreed the part of him that had been touched by a different higher power long before he'd been marked with the brand of a l'Cie. More than an eidolon. A part of you.
But also an eidolon. Beware! The inner voice continued.
At that moment, however, Cloud could not have cared less for explanations. The massive blade of the Fusion Sword cut through the air aiming straight for his head, and reflexes formed by a thousand battles drove him to dodge and draw the old PSICOM issue broadsword he was still armed with. A ferocious flurry of slashes, dodges, cuts and parries followed.
Within the first exchange of blows, Cloud could tell that he was going to lose.
-----------------------------------------------
Lightning awoke to the sounds of battle.
That alone was worrisome enough. Worse, however, the battle in question appeared to be happening quite close.
A sudden flood of adrenaline banished all thought of sleep, and she shot to her feet just in time to be blinded by an intense flash of light and hit by a shockwave of heat and pressure seeking to hammer her straight back to the ground. It would have, if she hadn't mastered the technique of anchoring her footing with magic over the course of the last few days. Firaga spell, close range, said her swiftly waking battle instincts. Not aimed at me.
Her vision cleared, and the source of the inferno became apparent: It was Cloud, fighting a shimmering figure of light wielding an absurdly oversized sword. His armor seemed to be glowing in places from the heat of the very spell he had just blasted his opponent with.
An opponent who seemed none the worse for wear. This was bad.
In one fluid motion, she both unsheathed her sword and unleashed a brilliant arc of electricity at Cloud's attacker.
She missed.
How could she miss? She was shooting lightning. You simply didn't miss with something like that!
But she had. Before her eyes, Cloud and his unknown opponent seemed to blur with the sheer speed of their movements. It was as vicious as any battle she had ever seen. She was fairly confident the gap in strength between her and Cloud had gotten smaller. And it had, but evidently not by enough.
A blindingly fast horizontal cut was aimed at Cloud, and the superior reach of his attacker's weapon forced him to parry and deflect rather than simply dodge. Against the sheer mass of the colossal sword coming his way, it was a lose-lose situation. Cloud made his parry, but was literally pushed to the side by the impact, his defense wide open.
She fired another spell, and though her magic didn't seem to cause any appreciable damage, she managed to win Cloud the fractions of a second he needed to recover. The battle of swordmasters continued. She tried to flank the enemy, and almost got her head removed for it. Only a desperate and reckless series of attacks by Cloud managed to take their enemy's attention off her before she got killed. She still received a nasty gash on her arm for the attempt. Cloud only barely avoided worse.
With growing dread, Lightning realized the terrible truth: Cloud was losing. And nothing she was doing could change it.
Just a few hours ago, for the first time since this entire mess began, she'd been filled with hope. Hope, that while she might not live herself, she'd still achieve something worthwhile before the end. Something she actually cared about.
And now it would end like this? NO! A thousand times no. She refused to accept it!
There was another clash of swords. Then it happened.
Cloud was a tiny instant to slow, and his opponent scored a hit. Just a glancing blow, and Cloud's counterstroke forced his attacker to jump back and gain distance to preserve his own life. But as the grisly wound in Cloud's leg made him stumble, it became clear that it would slow him down far too much to still have any chance of winning. There was no time for healing spells. The battle wasn't over, but it was decided.
The ghostly swordsman moved in for the kill.
Lightning put herself straight in his path.
For a split second, as she moved into position she caught a brief glance of Cloud and saw naked terror in his eyes as he realized what she was doing. A part of her wanted to ask for forgiveness, but there was no time for words. She could feel her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest, and yet she felt as if her entire body was frozen in time in the midst of events that simply moved to quickly for her to keep up, either physically or emotionally.
No matter.
If these were the last few seconds of her life, she would make them count. Nothing else mattered. Not her focus. Not her many, many regrets. Not the fate of Cocoon. Not the odds, and not the agonizing pain suddenly radiating from the l'Cie brand on her chest.
She grit her teeth and prepared to fight to the bitter end.
She'd failed Serah. She would not fail Cloud.
She deflected the first blow, and incredibly the second as well. Then the sheer force of the third nearly broke her arm and drove her to one knee. When the gigantic sword moved in for the fourth time to cut her right in two, she didn't even try to defend herself and instead threw herself straight at her enemy, the point of her sword aimed right at his throat.
Then somehow Cloud suddenly appeared to the side and a little in front of her, his weapon moving into a desperate defense as he tried to stop the inevitable, and the l'Cie brand on his back blazing with a furious golden light to match the rose-colored radiance from her own.
Everything burned.
If you feel like music, the final boss theme from FF XIII-2 (never played the game, but the soundtrack is sweet) might be appropriate for the last third.
Chapter 23: There is only More Darkness, and also Fire
At this point, Cloud would have gladly exchanged his entire materia collection for a better filing system.
They'd found the archive, alright. They had access as well, thanks to Rosch's codes.
Unfortunately that didn't mean they could actually find what they were looking for. Cloud knew what the fal'Cie in that old bunker had looked like, even if he had not recognized it for what it was at the time. He knew it had used security bots to try and kill him, before it had turned him into a l'Cie.
In short, he was looking for a house-sized octagonal prism with a large crystal eye on each side, that was located at the center of an old bunker probably going back to the War of Transgression, and that seemed to be in control of the various automated systems within that bunker.
What he didn't know was its name. Meaning he couldn't just search for that, and find the information he was looking for.
Which, considering the archive apparently contained information on in excess of 8 million fal'Cie, was kind of a problem. True, apart from a few hundred, the vast majority of those fal'Cie were nothing but glorified, barely-sentient machine parts in this or that airship, factory, or climate control system, but they still existed. Which meant they were listed in the archive. An archive with a filing system that seemed to hail straight from the dark ages, and which was depressingly lacking in options to narrow down the search criteria. Cloud suspected it had never been meant for use by humans.
After almost an hour of mostly aimless searching, he was definitely getting frustrated. Lightning had long since passed that state.
"Damnit... damnit, damnit, damnit! There has to be a way. We can't fail now! Not because of something like this."
He sighed. "This obviously isn't working. If there really are millions of fal'Cie..."
"I know!" She paced in circles like a caged tiger.
"Maybe this place is bigger than it appears at first. Did you see the panel at the portal? What if the portal can connect to other places as well?"
"Even if it does, how would that help us?" Lighting made another angry sound conveying pure frustration, then sighed. "I suppose I might als well take a look anyway."
She went to do so, and Cloud mentally prepared himself for reading through another endless mass of fal'Cie dossiers, but then though better of it. This clearly wasn't working.
In a situation like this, with no clue on how to proceed... what would Aerith do?
Almost by itself, his hand wandered to the small bag with the materia from that tunnel under Gapra Whitewood.
It really was quite obvious, wasn't it?
Trying not to feel too silly, he removed the Skyfleet issue helmet he was wearing, sat down on the cold floor, stared deeply into the green orb of crystallized lifestream in his hand, and listened.
Or tried to anyway.
For a while, the only thing he could hear was Lightning quietly cursing in the background as she fiddled with the portal controls to little success. He idly noted that she had a much larger and more creative vocabulary of rude words than he previously would have guessed. Then again, she'd been a soldier not too long ago. So thinking about it, this probably shouldn't have been such a surprise.
Maybe it was odd, but somehow the combination of Lightning's voice saying mean things about the Sanctum fal'Cie, and the soft green glow of the materia in his hands... it was strangely relaxing, really.
Before long, he lost himself in the light in his hands and the whispers in his mind that gradually ceased to sound like Lightning's voice.
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When Cloud came to, it was dark. Curious, for there to be a day-night cycle in a place like this.
He found himself still in exactly the same position he'd sat down in... was it a few hours ago? He'd lost all feeling for the passage of time. His limbs felt numb though. It must have been some time.
He searched his memory, and what he found was, in one word, strange, and didn't make a lot of sense. In Cloud's experience, that pretty much confirmed that the Lifestream had been involved in some way. What's more, for reasons that he couldn't quite explain, one single word had stuck in his mind.
'Machai.'
It sounded like a name. An unusual and exotic name at that, the sort you'd expect to belong to a being equally unusual and exotic in nature. Like a fal'Cie. Mission success, then.
Rising from his sitting position, Cloud spend a few moments looking around.
Behind him, the portal had shut down, though the control panel was still lit. In front of him, the archive computer was still active and ready to be accessed. Beside him, Lightning was sleeping on the cold, bare ground. He must have been in his lifestream-induced trance for quite some time, then.
She had shed the stolen Skyfleet Armor and helmet, and was sleeping in the ordinary everyday wear they'd bought in Palumpolum before things had gone straight to hell. Lying on her side, she was using her arms as a pillow for her head. It couldn't have been a comfortable position, but it was probably more comfortable than going without sleep for much longer. Neither of them had been getting much rest the last few days.
Comfortable position or not, Lightning seemed to be sleeping well enough. She didn't toss or turn, and her breathing was deep and even. Good. Even l'Cie endurance had its limits.
And she looked... different, somehow.
Without really consciously deciding to, he found himself studying her, trying to pin down the reason why he suddenly felt like he was looking at someone other than the companion he'd come to know and care about in the short time they'd known each other. She had the same face, the same lean but athletic build, the same rose-colored hair. He could still tell the location of various bruises and cuts he'd healed after the fighting yesterday. And yet... something was different. What had changed?
It was startling when he realized it.
Something was missing.
That carefully maintained neutral expression that gave nothing away, until now, when its absence suddenly gave away everything. For as long as he'd known her, awake Lightning had worn an expression of perpetually suppressed unhappiness. She never allowed it to show, buried it under purpose, or anger, or defiance, but there always was this aura of constant gloom that fit her like a second skin, to the point it had never quite registered as anything unusual or noteworthy. There were brief interruptions, yes, but in the end, that had been Lightning's default state the entire time. And for now it was gone, but he knew it would return the moment she opened her eyes.
It was a shame, really. He wanted it to stay gone. Light looked so much nicer without it.
It would stay gone, he resolved. Maybe not today, but eventually there was bound to be something that could banish it. He'd been foolish to agonize over Lightning's presumed fate instead of thinking about how to best change it. Just because they were working on his focus now, it didn't mean there wouldn't be any time to go after hers too. And Lightning may not have much hope for her sister, but on this Cloud disagreed – he'd seen stranger things than a person who'd been turned to crystal, but who was otherwise intact, coming back to life.
He walked up to the computer in the center of the room, entered the access codes, and searched for 'Machai'. Sure enough, there was a hit.
'Machai, Overseer of Battle' read the information on the screen. There was a picture too, confirming that this was the fal'Cie he was looking for.
Machai, it appeared, was some sort of fal'Cie general. He was not optimized for combat, but rather to command and direct a massive number of automated systems and troops. Rather high in the fal'Cie hierarchy, he answered only to a fal'Cie called Barthandelus. During the War of Transgression, Machai had been in charge of entire armies and dozens of l'Cie.
It's ultimate purpose had been...
'Machai's focus, and the focus of his l'Cie, is the elimination of all Pulse l'Cie to transgress against Cocoon's sanctity."
No...
No, no, no...
Never!
Not even if she told him to. Lifestream, she probably would tell him to, if she thought that was the only way to save both him and Cocoon!
He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He could barely stand.
The l'Cie brand on his back burned like fire. He felt like he was melting.
Patterns of burning-bright golden yellow light blazed into existence all around him even as his legs failed him and he fell to his knees.
Then the light abruptly collapsed and solidified into something solid. It was a sword. A very, very familiar sword, or more precisely, an entire assembly of familiar swords. But it had changed. Gleaming steel had been subtly accented with gold. A blade that could already cut skyscrapers in the right hands had acquired the otherworldly quality of something that was somehow more real than reality.
Holding the blade by it's handle was a pale apparition of golden light. Mostly transparent, its form was nevertheless an unmistakeable reflection of Cloud's own likeness.
Eidolon, supplied the part of Cloud's subconscious most touched by his powers as a l'Cie. An envoy of mercy, come to offer the only escape left.
Gattai Ken, disagreed the part of him that had been touched by a different higher power long before he'd been marked with the brand of a l'Cie. More than an eidolon. A part of you.
But also an eidolon. Beware! The inner voice continued.
At that moment, however, Cloud could not have cared less for explanations. The massive blade of the Fusion Sword cut through the air aiming straight for his head, and reflexes formed by a thousand battles drove him to dodge and draw the old PSICOM issue broadsword he was still armed with. A ferocious flurry of slashes, dodges, cuts and parries followed.
Within the first exchange of blows, Cloud could tell that he was going to lose.
-----------------------------------------------
Lightning awoke to the sounds of battle.
That alone was worrisome enough. Worse, however, the battle in question appeared to be happening quite close.
A sudden flood of adrenaline banished all thought of sleep, and she shot to her feet just in time to be blinded by an intense flash of light and hit by a shockwave of heat and pressure seeking to hammer her straight back to the ground. It would have, if she hadn't mastered the technique of anchoring her footing with magic over the course of the last few days. Firaga spell, close range, said her swiftly waking battle instincts. Not aimed at me.
Her vision cleared, and the source of the inferno became apparent: It was Cloud, fighting a shimmering figure of light wielding an absurdly oversized sword. His armor seemed to be glowing in places from the heat of the very spell he had just blasted his opponent with.
An opponent who seemed none the worse for wear. This was bad.
In one fluid motion, she both unsheathed her sword and unleashed a brilliant arc of electricity at Cloud's attacker.
She missed.
How could she miss? She was shooting lightning. You simply didn't miss with something like that!
But she had. Before her eyes, Cloud and his unknown opponent seemed to blur with the sheer speed of their movements. It was as vicious as any battle she had ever seen. She was fairly confident the gap in strength between her and Cloud had gotten smaller. And it had, but evidently not by enough.
A blindingly fast horizontal cut was aimed at Cloud, and the superior reach of his attacker's weapon forced him to parry and deflect rather than simply dodge. Against the sheer mass of the colossal sword coming his way, it was a lose-lose situation. Cloud made his parry, but was literally pushed to the side by the impact, his defense wide open.
She fired another spell, and though her magic didn't seem to cause any appreciable damage, she managed to win Cloud the fractions of a second he needed to recover. The battle of swordmasters continued. She tried to flank the enemy, and almost got her head removed for it. Only a desperate and reckless series of attacks by Cloud managed to take their enemy's attention off her before she got killed. She still received a nasty gash on her arm for the attempt. Cloud only barely avoided worse.
With growing dread, Lightning realized the terrible truth: Cloud was losing. And nothing she was doing could change it.
Just a few hours ago, for the first time since this entire mess began, she'd been filled with hope. Hope, that while she might not live herself, she'd still achieve something worthwhile before the end. Something she actually cared about.
And now it would end like this? NO! A thousand times no. She refused to accept it!
There was another clash of swords. Then it happened.
Cloud was a tiny instant to slow, and his opponent scored a hit. Just a glancing blow, and Cloud's counterstroke forced his attacker to jump back and gain distance to preserve his own life. But as the grisly wound in Cloud's leg made him stumble, it became clear that it would slow him down far too much to still have any chance of winning. There was no time for healing spells. The battle wasn't over, but it was decided.
The ghostly swordsman moved in for the kill.
Lightning put herself straight in his path.
For a split second, as she moved into position she caught a brief glance of Cloud and saw naked terror in his eyes as he realized what she was doing. A part of her wanted to ask for forgiveness, but there was no time for words. She could feel her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest, and yet she felt as if her entire body was frozen in time in the midst of events that simply moved to quickly for her to keep up, either physically or emotionally.
No matter.
If these were the last few seconds of her life, she would make them count. Nothing else mattered. Not her focus. Not her many, many regrets. Not the fate of Cocoon. Not the odds, and not the agonizing pain suddenly radiating from the l'Cie brand on her chest.
She grit her teeth and prepared to fight to the bitter end.
She'd failed Serah. She would not fail Cloud.
She deflected the first blow, and incredibly the second as well. Then the sheer force of the third nearly broke her arm and drove her to one knee. When the gigantic sword moved in for the fourth time to cut her right in two, she didn't even try to defend herself and instead threw herself straight at her enemy, the point of her sword aimed right at his throat.
Then somehow Cloud suddenly appeared to the side and a little in front of her, his weapon moving into a desperate defense as he tried to stop the inevitable, and the l'Cie brand on his back blazing with a furious golden light to match the rose-colored radiance from her own.
Everything burned.
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Kinda disappointed in Cloud's Eidolon. Why not a bladed werewolf that transforms into a motorcycle?
Fenrir!!!
Fenrir!!!
EvaUnit01
Kept you waiting, huh?
I have to admit, the initial premise as laid out in the first couple of chapters kind of worried me a little, but I kept reading anyway because I'm relapsing back into my FF addiction.
And I gotta say, I am so very glad I did keep reading, because I am completely enjoying the way Cloud and Lightning play off of each other here.
So, thanks for writing this far, and I'm eager to see where it goes from here.
And I gotta say, I am so very glad I did keep reading, because I am completely enjoying the way Cloud and Lightning play off of each other here.
So, thanks for writing this far, and I'm eager to see where it goes from here.