Not quite the end.
The post-Crucible ending for Aerith Gainsborough.
The change was immediate as she stepped through the gate. Her jacket disappeared, her dress deteriorating until it was a drab, tattered rag. The color had faded to a nondescript shade somewhere between brown and grey, the hem torn and soiled. Aerith's braid unraveled, becoming a matted, tangled mess beyond saving, hanging heavily across her shoulders as she stumbled. Aerith wasted away, bones jutting against tight skin, her muscles atrophying until she was a shadow of the woman she'd been a moment before. Startling green eyes stared through her filthy bangs from shadowed sockets, bloodied fingers snagging in the rocks and dirt.
Open sores and old injuries marred her arms and legs, the ShinRa brand blossoming on the back of her left hand mottled by bruises and poorly-healed IV points. Her knees hit the dirt hard when she fell, her shoulders shaking as she was struck by a chill wind. That was nothing compared to the sudden crushing pressure of the entire planet screaming. Clutching her hair, Aerith's voice was raw and broken as she screamed, the terror and pain of an entire world concentrated into a single point.
The pain was overwhelming, too much, too suddenly, and she could feel herself starting to break beneath it. The earth buckled around her, the taste of ozone in the air as the energies of the Lifestream were thrown into turmoil. No! She couldn't--! They didn't have time--she had to stop this! Someone had said there was a chance, that it wasn't hopeless. It felt hopeless, but buried in the sound of hundreds of thousands of voices screaming, she could almost sense something. A pull, a tug, a frantic whisper in the roaring noise.
"Stop it!" The shout boomed with the force of a psychic push, knocking back the overbearing avalanche that had threatened to drag her under again. In that brief instant of silence, she could feel it. The pull dragged her off her knees and she stumbled forward barefoot, heading west across the plains. She could get there, there was time. Awaken the Weapons from their blind rages, maybe find some others who could help.
There was a chance. It wasn't much, but it was enough to hope. Then...then she could show them.
Show who?
Aerith couldn't quite remember, but she knew. Others. A couple. Some? A handful of voices. Laughter, smooth halls and corridors that weren't the hellish labs. Friends. Faces lost in cobweb memories, fragile and easily lost. So close she could almost taste it through the dirt and tears and pain. The smell of cooking, soft beds. No... A couch? A pair of glasses on a table strewn with notes. Whose? So many questions and not enough answers. It was frustrating, but it drove her on, mindless of the brambles and sharp pebbles between her and her destination.
A flash of gold on the horizon caught her attention. A flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye. Stopping where she stood, the girl stared, shivering as the breeze felt like it blew through her, catching at her tattered dress and filthy hair. A warbling cry came to her on the wind, and recognition dawned in her eyes.
"Chocobo..." Came the rough whisper.
That would make this much easier. She'd show them all, if she found them again. She was sure that she would find the pieces if she saw them again. Perhaps this wouldn't be so hard after all.
The change was immediate as she stepped through the gate. Her jacket disappeared, her dress deteriorating until it was a drab, tattered rag. The color had faded to a nondescript shade somewhere between brown and grey, the hem torn and soiled. Aerith's braid unraveled, becoming a matted, tangled mess beyond saving, hanging heavily across her shoulders as she stumbled. Aerith wasted away, bones jutting against tight skin, her muscles atrophying until she was a shadow of the woman she'd been a moment before. Startling green eyes stared through her filthy bangs from shadowed sockets, bloodied fingers snagging in the rocks and dirt.
Open sores and old injuries marred her arms and legs, the ShinRa brand blossoming on the back of her left hand mottled by bruises and poorly-healed IV points. Her knees hit the dirt hard when she fell, her shoulders shaking as she was struck by a chill wind. That was nothing compared to the sudden crushing pressure of the entire planet screaming. Clutching her hair, Aerith's voice was raw and broken as she screamed, the terror and pain of an entire world concentrated into a single point.
The pain was overwhelming, too much, too suddenly, and she could feel herself starting to break beneath it. The earth buckled around her, the taste of ozone in the air as the energies of the Lifestream were thrown into turmoil. No! She couldn't--! They didn't have time--she had to stop this! Someone had said there was a chance, that it wasn't hopeless. It felt hopeless, but buried in the sound of hundreds of thousands of voices screaming, she could almost sense something. A pull, a tug, a frantic whisper in the roaring noise.
"Stop it!" The shout boomed with the force of a psychic push, knocking back the overbearing avalanche that had threatened to drag her under again. In that brief instant of silence, she could feel it. The pull dragged her off her knees and she stumbled forward barefoot, heading west across the plains. She could get there, there was time. Awaken the Weapons from their blind rages, maybe find some others who could help.
There was a chance. It wasn't much, but it was enough to hope. Then...then she could show them.
Show who?
Aerith couldn't quite remember, but she knew. Others. A couple. Some? A handful of voices. Laughter, smooth halls and corridors that weren't the hellish labs. Friends. Faces lost in cobweb memories, fragile and easily lost. So close she could almost taste it through the dirt and tears and pain. The smell of cooking, soft beds. No... A couch? A pair of glasses on a table strewn with notes. Whose? So many questions and not enough answers. It was frustrating, but it drove her on, mindless of the brambles and sharp pebbles between her and her destination.
A flash of gold on the horizon caught her attention. A flurry of movement out of the corner of her eye. Stopping where she stood, the girl stared, shivering as the breeze felt like it blew through her, catching at her tattered dress and filthy hair. A warbling cry came to her on the wind, and recognition dawned in her eyes.
"Chocobo..." Came the rough whisper.
That would make this much easier. She'd show them all, if she found them again. She was sure that she would find the pieces if she saw them again. Perhaps this wouldn't be so hard after all.