[FFVII] Path of Repentance : Ch 1 (test post)
Title: Path of Repentance
Chapter 1: Prelude
Summary: Cloud is pulled into a parallel/alternate universe where: it's two years after Nibelhiem, 2 of the Weapons have been released, ShinRa still stands, and Sephiroth is still their General. As Cloud struggles to find out why he was brought there, he finds himself hunted by both old friends and old enemies.
Pairing: Hopefully SxC (eventually). S+C if I can't make it work.
Rating: PG13?
Type: multi-chapter
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine! Everything relating to Final Fantasy VII belongs to Squaresoft. Changes made to new world all mine though.
A/N: Was going to call this Otherworld but then I remembered Jade Tatsu’s “The Other World.” And that just felt too much like copying. Especially since that was one of the fics I read a few months ago that just ate my brain! and begged me to write something in the parallel universe strain (and a the whole friends now being enemies bit). I think my new title will work out better in the end now, so on with the story!
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He was floating. That was the first feeling he became aware of. It was a soft, comforting kind of sensation. With relief he also noticed he wasn’t in pain anymore. No muscles burning with exhaustion, no wounds burning where he had been cut, no lungs burning in their need for oxygen.
Why was he suddenly reminded of fire? And a figure in the flames...
Wait.
What had he been doing before this?
He remembered a fight, though he didn’t know whom it was with. The fire-person maybe. He’d been angry, of that he was sure. But he’d also felt sad? Or was it pity? And also ... excitement? Had the anger really been as strong as he’d first assumed, or was it just the first emotion he remembered...
His train of thought was derailed when he realized he was falling. But at the same time, it still felt like he was floating on something. Was it water? No, it was too thick for that. Was it...?
What happened to the man he’d been fighting, anyway? How had he become conscious in this ephemeral state? Why had there been an explosion? Shouldn’t there be pain? Or was he dead? Suddenly he felt sick with the fear that he’d died, that he’d lost, that he’d failed to protect them. Again.
With this thought, his whole world suddenly exploded in blinding white pain. It hurt everywhere. If he so much as twitched a finger the pain would shoot up his arm, leaving a burning sensation long after the movement. Doing his best to push it to the back of his mind, he was pleasantly surprised when he forced it to a more manageable level. When had he learned this trick? The aching pain was too familiar, even the floating feeling was familiar. The only difference was the comfort he could still sense, even through the sudden pain. He opened his eyes in a desperate attempt to distract himself, hoping he’d see something, or someone, who would be able to ease this pain.
Who he was hoping so desperately to see? He couldn’t remember.
White. That was all he saw. Not a blinding white. Just. White. Shouldn’t it be green? No. This was different, he reminded himself. And that someone he’d been hoping to see was no longer alive. So why did he think he’d see ‘him’, now that he realized who he’d been hoping to see. He closed his eyes again, struggling against the sudden rush of emotions and memories. Memories that he’d tried so hard to bury. Of glass cages and Green. Always Green. Of needles and of pain. Of cold, prodding hands and of a cold, calculating voice. He’d blocked it all out so well last time. A little too well, really. Because he’d also forgotten ‘him’. His first true friend. Although he wasn’t sure if what he’d gone through to get that friend was worth it. They’d only been friends in passing before ‘then’. No, that was unfair. They’d gone through hell together, true, but Zack had always considered him a good friend.
His thoughts were derailed again when he suddenly felt a hand on his forehead, and the pain that had only been at a manageable level, faded into a dull ache in the back of his mind.
Suddenly remembering the boy who’d died in his arms, who’d called out to his mother as he became part of the Lifestream, Cloud questioned, “Mother?” Afraid to open his eyes and prove the lie.
“Again?” a hauntingly familiar voice answered. “I wonder, how many times have I been called ‘Mother’ today.” How he’d missed that playful, teasing voice! I’m sorry, he tried to say. But he found that his throat burned with the effort. Refusing to work.
“What’s wrong with it? Being dearly loved and all.” A different voice said. A voice that he never thought he’d hear again. Please, forgive me, he wanted to beg. Now afraid to open his eyes, when before he’d been so desperate to open them.
“I don’t need such a big child like him.” She said petulantly.
“Too bad. She said, there’s no place for you here.” ‘His’ voice teased.
He opened his eyes at that in surprise. No, don’t! I want to stay with you! The hand on his forehead was pulled back, and he stared desperately up at her, trying to will her not to send him away. Willing himself to remain where he was and fighting the pull that was trying to take him away from them. There’s no place for me back ‘there’ either. Trying with his eyes to convey what he couldn’t with his voice.
She looked back at him in surprise, clearly not expecting his sudden resistance. Beside her, he could make out the faded form of a man; the large sword strapped to his back the clearest part of him.
“Go home and rest, Cloud.” she said comfortingly, “Your family is waiting for you, you know.” She reminded him.
“Did you think we wouldn’t wait for you?” the other voice teased. “You still owe me that sparring match!” Sympathy softened his voice as he continued, “Don’t tell me you forgot!”
Cloud cringed at that. He had forgotten. On the way to Nibelhiem, Zack had promised to spar with him. To help him get better so that, even though he’d never become a Soldier, he could still protect people. So that he could one day return home and fulfill at least part of his promise to Tifa.
“Just worry about yourself now, Cloud.” He knew she was trying to put his mind at ease, to tell him it was over. But ... Was it really over? Despite Aerith’s assurance, he couldn’t accept it. He still felt like he hadn’t settled his past. ‘His’ final promise echoing in his mind.
The world around them suddenly took on a blue-green tinge. A colour that, oddly enough, reminded him of what Holy had looked like as it swept over the Planet towards Meteor.
“What!?” Aerith said. Her voice, full of confusion and shock, brought his attention shooting back to her. Her eyes fixated on some point in the distance.
“What’s going on?” Asked Zack, sounding as confused as Cloud now felt. When Cloud glanced in his direction, he was shocked to see Zack’s form fading away.
“No! He belongs here!” she exclaimed, speaking to a voice only she could hear, and moved to cradle his head in her arms.
“Aerith! What’s happening!?” he heard Zack insist, unable to see him at all now, besides a faint outline.
“It’s Holy! They’re using it,” Holy? he thought in confusion. Having to struggle to focus on her voice, “Using it to pull him to them.”
“Them?” Zack questioned, voice now as faint as his image, despite the panic in his voice. “Pulling him to where?”
He could feel it now. A gentle tug on his mind. Asking, or was it begging?, for his help. The voice was so sad, as if it had almost no hope, as if it could barely remember what real hope felt like. Something in the voice conveying to him that, after this, the owner of the voice would have nothing, except despair. There was something else about the voice, something that made him struggle to listen, even as his mind started to feel like it was becoming lost in a fog.
“No! Cloud, hold on! You don’t belong there! Don’t listen to them!”
Them? He didn’t understand. All he could hear was one voice. One painfully familiar voice. Not promising him anything, just begging him to help it. To save it. I already failed the two people I care about the most. He told the voice. Why do you think I’m fit to help you? It didn’t answer, but he felt the pull suddenly gain strength. A feeling of desperate hope and need driving the sudden increase.
“Cloud!” Aerith called. Her voice almost lost in the haze his mind was in. It was desperate, and he could faintly feel her trying to maintain her grip on him. It was then, when he heard her cry out to him, that he realized why the other voice was so familiar. The last of his resistance to the other voice faded away with his recognition. He would help the owner of that voice. Protect it if he could. Save it if he could. And if he succeeded, maybe finally forgive himself.
“Cloud!”
Because the voice that he now felt himself spiraling towards, and the voice that was calling his name, rapidly getting fainter and fainter with each call...
Were the same.
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A/N: What do you think? Caught your interest at all? Any constructive criticism (like rewordings, or general tips for example) would be very very very appreciated!!!! This is my very first story I’ve had the guts to post so please let me know what you think!! Should I continue?
Chapter 1: Prelude
Summary: Cloud is pulled into a parallel/alternate universe where: it's two years after Nibelhiem, 2 of the Weapons have been released, ShinRa still stands, and Sephiroth is still their General. As Cloud struggles to find out why he was brought there, he finds himself hunted by both old friends and old enemies.
Pairing: Hopefully SxC (eventually). S+C if I can't make it work.
Rating: PG13?
Type: multi-chapter
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine! Everything relating to Final Fantasy VII belongs to Squaresoft. Changes made to new world all mine though.
A/N: Was going to call this Otherworld but then I remembered Jade Tatsu’s “The Other World.” And that just felt too much like copying. Especially since that was one of the fics I read a few months ago that just ate my brain! and begged me to write something in the parallel universe strain (and a the whole friends now being enemies bit). I think my new title will work out better in the end now, so on with the story!
----------
He was floating. That was the first feeling he became aware of. It was a soft, comforting kind of sensation. With relief he also noticed he wasn’t in pain anymore. No muscles burning with exhaustion, no wounds burning where he had been cut, no lungs burning in their need for oxygen.
Why was he suddenly reminded of fire? And a figure in the flames...
Wait.
What had he been doing before this?
He remembered a fight, though he didn’t know whom it was with. The fire-person maybe. He’d been angry, of that he was sure. But he’d also felt sad? Or was it pity? And also ... excitement? Had the anger really been as strong as he’d first assumed, or was it just the first emotion he remembered...
His train of thought was derailed when he realized he was falling. But at the same time, it still felt like he was floating on something. Was it water? No, it was too thick for that. Was it...?
What happened to the man he’d been fighting, anyway? How had he become conscious in this ephemeral state? Why had there been an explosion? Shouldn’t there be pain? Or was he dead? Suddenly he felt sick with the fear that he’d died, that he’d lost, that he’d failed to protect them. Again.
With this thought, his whole world suddenly exploded in blinding white pain. It hurt everywhere. If he so much as twitched a finger the pain would shoot up his arm, leaving a burning sensation long after the movement. Doing his best to push it to the back of his mind, he was pleasantly surprised when he forced it to a more manageable level. When had he learned this trick? The aching pain was too familiar, even the floating feeling was familiar. The only difference was the comfort he could still sense, even through the sudden pain. He opened his eyes in a desperate attempt to distract himself, hoping he’d see something, or someone, who would be able to ease this pain.
Who he was hoping so desperately to see? He couldn’t remember.
White. That was all he saw. Not a blinding white. Just. White. Shouldn’t it be green? No. This was different, he reminded himself. And that someone he’d been hoping to see was no longer alive. So why did he think he’d see ‘him’, now that he realized who he’d been hoping to see. He closed his eyes again, struggling against the sudden rush of emotions and memories. Memories that he’d tried so hard to bury. Of glass cages and Green. Always Green. Of needles and of pain. Of cold, prodding hands and of a cold, calculating voice. He’d blocked it all out so well last time. A little too well, really. Because he’d also forgotten ‘him’. His first true friend. Although he wasn’t sure if what he’d gone through to get that friend was worth it. They’d only been friends in passing before ‘then’. No, that was unfair. They’d gone through hell together, true, but Zack had always considered him a good friend.
His thoughts were derailed again when he suddenly felt a hand on his forehead, and the pain that had only been at a manageable level, faded into a dull ache in the back of his mind.
Suddenly remembering the boy who’d died in his arms, who’d called out to his mother as he became part of the Lifestream, Cloud questioned, “Mother?” Afraid to open his eyes and prove the lie.
“Again?” a hauntingly familiar voice answered. “I wonder, how many times have I been called ‘Mother’ today.” How he’d missed that playful, teasing voice! I’m sorry, he tried to say. But he found that his throat burned with the effort. Refusing to work.
“What’s wrong with it? Being dearly loved and all.” A different voice said. A voice that he never thought he’d hear again. Please, forgive me, he wanted to beg. Now afraid to open his eyes, when before he’d been so desperate to open them.
“I don’t need such a big child like him.” She said petulantly.
“Too bad. She said, there’s no place for you here.” ‘His’ voice teased.
He opened his eyes at that in surprise. No, don’t! I want to stay with you! The hand on his forehead was pulled back, and he stared desperately up at her, trying to will her not to send him away. Willing himself to remain where he was and fighting the pull that was trying to take him away from them. There’s no place for me back ‘there’ either. Trying with his eyes to convey what he couldn’t with his voice.
She looked back at him in surprise, clearly not expecting his sudden resistance. Beside her, he could make out the faded form of a man; the large sword strapped to his back the clearest part of him.
“Go home and rest, Cloud.” she said comfortingly, “Your family is waiting for you, you know.” She reminded him.
“Did you think we wouldn’t wait for you?” the other voice teased. “You still owe me that sparring match!” Sympathy softened his voice as he continued, “Don’t tell me you forgot!”
Cloud cringed at that. He had forgotten. On the way to Nibelhiem, Zack had promised to spar with him. To help him get better so that, even though he’d never become a Soldier, he could still protect people. So that he could one day return home and fulfill at least part of his promise to Tifa.
“Just worry about yourself now, Cloud.” He knew she was trying to put his mind at ease, to tell him it was over. But ... Was it really over? Despite Aerith’s assurance, he couldn’t accept it. He still felt like he hadn’t settled his past. ‘His’ final promise echoing in his mind.
The world around them suddenly took on a blue-green tinge. A colour that, oddly enough, reminded him of what Holy had looked like as it swept over the Planet towards Meteor.
“What!?” Aerith said. Her voice, full of confusion and shock, brought his attention shooting back to her. Her eyes fixated on some point in the distance.
“What’s going on?” Asked Zack, sounding as confused as Cloud now felt. When Cloud glanced in his direction, he was shocked to see Zack’s form fading away.
“No! He belongs here!” she exclaimed, speaking to a voice only she could hear, and moved to cradle his head in her arms.
“Aerith! What’s happening!?” he heard Zack insist, unable to see him at all now, besides a faint outline.
“It’s Holy! They’re using it,” Holy? he thought in confusion. Having to struggle to focus on her voice, “Using it to pull him to them.”
“Them?” Zack questioned, voice now as faint as his image, despite the panic in his voice. “Pulling him to where?”
He could feel it now. A gentle tug on his mind. Asking, or was it begging?, for his help. The voice was so sad, as if it had almost no hope, as if it could barely remember what real hope felt like. Something in the voice conveying to him that, after this, the owner of the voice would have nothing, except despair. There was something else about the voice, something that made him struggle to listen, even as his mind started to feel like it was becoming lost in a fog.
“No! Cloud, hold on! You don’t belong there! Don’t listen to them!”
Them? He didn’t understand. All he could hear was one voice. One painfully familiar voice. Not promising him anything, just begging him to help it. To save it. I already failed the two people I care about the most. He told the voice. Why do you think I’m fit to help you? It didn’t answer, but he felt the pull suddenly gain strength. A feeling of desperate hope and need driving the sudden increase.
“Cloud!” Aerith called. Her voice almost lost in the haze his mind was in. It was desperate, and he could faintly feel her trying to maintain her grip on him. It was then, when he heard her cry out to him, that he realized why the other voice was so familiar. The last of his resistance to the other voice faded away with his recognition. He would help the owner of that voice. Protect it if he could. Save it if he could. And if he succeeded, maybe finally forgive himself.
“Cloud!”
Because the voice that he now felt himself spiraling towards, and the voice that was calling his name, rapidly getting fainter and fainter with each call...
Were the same.
-------------
A/N: What do you think? Caught your interest at all? Any constructive criticism (like rewordings, or general tips for example) would be very very very appreciated!!!! This is my very first story I’ve had the guts to post so please let me know what you think!! Should I continue?