[Day 3 Opplot Ends]
He was spiraling out of control. He had been for the past two days, but the spiral had started going faster and faster downward. He felt himself being pulled in all directions. One moment, he wanted to show Zell who was the better of the two. A final showdown and this time he wouldn't hold back. In the next moment, he was stung by her words. Too deeply wounded to move. And the next moment, that despair was compounded by the Buster sword's legacy. The legacy he'd left in Midgar. All of those people, Angeal, Cloud, Hollander, even Aeris.
'You're a disgrace to SOLDIER,' Angeal's words rang in his head.
'What happened to dreams and honor?' His own voice replied.
'Why did you kill the townspeople? Answer me! Sephiroth!' He'd begged Sephiroth for an answer.
'DEFEND YOURSELF' Angeal had challenged him, daring Zack to kill him.
'I'll remain loyal to SOLDIER. For now,' Sephiroth had warned darkly.
'You are just a shallow illusion,' she'd told him two days ago.
"Am I?" he questioned aloud. He clenched his fist. No. He knew what he was. He was no longer SOLDIER. He was ready to make his choice. He put one foot in front of the other. His determination was unwavering now. Even as the voices continued talking in his head, they had reached an agreement.
As he passed the rec room, he glanced in. The jukebox greeted him as usual, springing to life and playing the end* [from 2:50] of a song. He nodded in agreement and continued on his mission.
He practically ran down the stairs and hurried as fast as he could to the clothes box. It was already past dinner time and would soon be dark. He hoped he'd meet no one on his way and he didn't.
"I've made up my mind," he told it. "I know what I am." He reached out to open the box, but hesitated a moment, fearing it wouldn't ask him the question again. Finally he gathered his confidence again and opened it. The wings were back. Black and white. Two pairs. It had even provided a black leather trench coat.
For a brief a moment, he considered changing his mind. The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Taking off his shoulder armor and then the sleeveless turtle neck of his SOLDIER uniform, he put on the angel wings. It was dramatic and perhaps a bit ridiculous, but he didn't care. He'd wanted those wings and they were his now. Taking the Buster sword, he pierced the trench so the wings could pass through. Carefully yet awkwardly, he managed to get the coat over the wings. Black wings. Lastly he added his shoulder armor. It wasn't an exact copy*, but the effect was the same.
Forget dreams and honor. He was a monster. He created only death and destruction. He laughed derisively at thought of the death and destruction he'd created. "Even my own death."
No smile, though, was on his face. Just an angry scowl. The irony hadn't escaped him. 'To prepare you for your next fight,' Angeal's words echoed again in his mind, spurring him on. He had to do this while he could. Tabula Rasa couldn't become a Second Nibelheim. It was a blank slate, a new start. One he didn't deserve.
As he left the compound, the jukebox started up again. This time the chorus of a song* [minus the Crisis Core comments]. He just shook his head and waved his hand in the direction of the song without looking.
***
Under the cover of dusk, Zack had found a remote and sturdy looking tree. Angeal's voice competed with Sephiroth's and Aeris' voices while his own past speeches all echoed in his head and spurred him forward.
Somehow he'd found some rope. Perhaps it had been in the trench coat, or maybe he'd found it somewhere else. He couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten, but it was fortuitous because he needed it. Looking up at the tree, he found an appropriately sturdy looking branch and an incline. He threw the rope up and tied it off. A noose had already been fashioned.
It was as though he were in a dream or a memory. He didn't feel like he had control of his own body. It was doing things on its own. Though this wasn't heroic, his dream of being a hero had been misguided at best. Heroes, however, weren't the only ones who always died tragically. Sometimes the monster did as well. Closing his eyes, he jumped from the incline...
Unfortunately, dusk might have been the best time for the task Zack had in mind, but it wasn't the best light for judging the sturdiness of the tree. When he jumped, the rope went taunt for a brief moment before the branch simply snapped off. It had obvious damage from rot and decay. Zack landed and slid across the ground with his momentum. The branch followed after him, crashing onto his shoulder armor, his back and the black wing on his right shoulder, breaking it off of the harness entirely.
Zack lay where he'd landed. The physical pain would ease, but he wasn't even competent enough to kill himself.
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'You're a disgrace to SOLDIER,' Angeal's words rang in his head.
'What happened to dreams and honor?' His own voice replied.
'Why did you kill the townspeople? Answer me! Sephiroth!' He'd begged Sephiroth for an answer.
'DEFEND YOURSELF' Angeal had challenged him, daring Zack to kill him.
'I'll remain loyal to SOLDIER. For now,' Sephiroth had warned darkly.
'You are just a shallow illusion,' she'd told him two days ago.
"Am I?" he questioned aloud. He clenched his fist. No. He knew what he was. He was no longer SOLDIER. He was ready to make his choice. He put one foot in front of the other. His determination was unwavering now. Even as the voices continued talking in his head, they had reached an agreement.
As he passed the rec room, he glanced in. The jukebox greeted him as usual, springing to life and playing the end* [from 2:50] of a song. He nodded in agreement and continued on his mission.
He practically ran down the stairs and hurried as fast as he could to the clothes box. It was already past dinner time and would soon be dark. He hoped he'd meet no one on his way and he didn't.
"I've made up my mind," he told it. "I know what I am." He reached out to open the box, but hesitated a moment, fearing it wouldn't ask him the question again. Finally he gathered his confidence again and opened it. The wings were back. Black and white. Two pairs. It had even provided a black leather trench coat.
For a brief a moment, he considered changing his mind. The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Taking off his shoulder armor and then the sleeveless turtle neck of his SOLDIER uniform, he put on the angel wings. It was dramatic and perhaps a bit ridiculous, but he didn't care. He'd wanted those wings and they were his now. Taking the Buster sword, he pierced the trench so the wings could pass through. Carefully yet awkwardly, he managed to get the coat over the wings. Black wings. Lastly he added his shoulder armor. It wasn't an exact copy*, but the effect was the same.
Forget dreams and honor. He was a monster. He created only death and destruction. He laughed derisively at thought of the death and destruction he'd created. "Even my own death."
No smile, though, was on his face. Just an angry scowl. The irony hadn't escaped him. 'To prepare you for your next fight,' Angeal's words echoed again in his mind, spurring him on. He had to do this while he could. Tabula Rasa couldn't become a Second Nibelheim. It was a blank slate, a new start. One he didn't deserve.
As he left the compound, the jukebox started up again. This time the chorus of a song* [minus the Crisis Core comments]. He just shook his head and waved his hand in the direction of the song without looking.
***
Under the cover of dusk, Zack had found a remote and sturdy looking tree. Angeal's voice competed with Sephiroth's and Aeris' voices while his own past speeches all echoed in his head and spurred him forward.
Somehow he'd found some rope. Perhaps it had been in the trench coat, or maybe he'd found it somewhere else. He couldn't quite remember how he'd gotten, but it was fortuitous because he needed it. Looking up at the tree, he found an appropriately sturdy looking branch and an incline. He threw the rope up and tied it off. A noose had already been fashioned.
It was as though he were in a dream or a memory. He didn't feel like he had control of his own body. It was doing things on its own. Though this wasn't heroic, his dream of being a hero had been misguided at best. Heroes, however, weren't the only ones who always died tragically. Sometimes the monster did as well. Closing his eyes, he jumped from the incline...
Unfortunately, dusk might have been the best time for the task Zack had in mind, but it wasn't the best light for judging the sturdiness of the tree. When he jumped, the rope went taunt for a brief moment before the branch simply snapped off. It had obvious damage from rot and decay. Zack landed and slid across the ground with his momentum. The branch followed after him, crashing onto his shoulder armor, his back and the black wing on his right shoulder, breaking it off of the harness entirely.
Zack lay where he'd landed. The physical pain would ease, but he wasn't even competent enough to kill himself.
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