To make it clear from the beginning, I do not have permission to use these characters. They are copyrighted by Squaresoft, the greatest game company I've ever heard of. Please, don't sue me for using these characters. This is also my first fanfic that's based on Final Fantasy VII, so I'd like to know what you all think about it. Thanks. Started: January 5, 1998 Finished: January 22, 1998 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
~ Prologue ~
~ Last Moments ~ What he woke up to was not very pleasant, at least, in his eyes. The glare of the light that shined down upon his body was intense, and he slowly shook his head to clear it. 'What had happened?' he queried, edging over to get off the table he had found himself upon. It was then that the memories came back. . . Professor Gast. . Hojo. . Lucrecia. . The Jenova Project. . He steadied himself as he slipped off the table, and he slowly remembered what had happened. He had stumbled upon Gast and Hojo's plans for Lucrecia; they were planning to have both her and the child she bore injected with Jenova cells, as part of a theory that would take years to perform.
It was only then that his hands fell upon his hands. Everything stopped. Where his left hand had fomerly been was a metal claw. He couldn't breathe. Professor Hojo. . . He-- he wouldn't dare. . .!! Betrayed by fellow workers of Shinra. . . Was this his punishment for allowing Lucrecia to be used for such a wicked experiment? A roar of pure rage climbed through his throat, and he screamed, tearing apart the hidden room within the Shinra mansion of Nibelheim. He tore books from the shelves, destroyed machines. . Anger rang through his head, both that and such madness that one could have sworn the man was insane.
In the end, he had managed to crawl out into the desolate hallway, his nearly sightless red eyes glowing softly in the semi-darkness. There were no tears in his eyes, though; for some reason, he could no longer shed them. He crawled to the next room, which was filled with coffins. Skeletons already took up the coffins to the sides of the room, but one open coffin laid untouched in the center of the room. He had to bring his eyes inches from the lettering to make it out. It said clearly on it: Valentine, Vincent -- Experiment #469.
It hurt his heart even more to know that Hojo had expected him not to survive the experiment. Did the man . . . no, monster . . . think him that weak? To not survive something that he had not been able to witness?? He shut his eyes to think, and sub-consciously dragged himself into the coffin. Using his one human hand, he pulled the lid over the coffin, and shut his eyes to the darkness. Vincent Valentine murmured himself to sleep, a sleep that would last over a decade.
"I am Vincent Valentine. . . I am the damned; sinner to the greatest of all crimes. . ."
* * * * *
His footing faltered, and he stumbled forward, crashing face first on to the ground. But he was still alive; his will was too strong to die that easily. All around him, he could feel the vibrating tremors of some distant quake. Or, as a second thought, not so distant. He hadn't been walking long -- perhaps an hour at the least -- and he still felt as if he had been walking in circles. Holding his severe wound with one blood-covered hand, he struggled to his feet with only one weakened hand, wincing as he felt part of the closed wound reopen. His eyes shut tight in pain, and steadied himself on a nearby tree. Panting hard, he took off his dark blue jacket, pressing the half-dirty material to the bloody mess that was now upon his chest.
He couldn't believe he had survived this long. After Sephiroth's sudden appearance in the temple, and his very close encounter to sudden death . . . he had blacked out. Even now he could not estimate how long. When he had awoken, the pain in his chest was still more than apparent, and he fought against the feeling to pass out once again. Then, those members of Avalanche had come along. The tall, spiky blond haired man with Mako eyes, the brunette wearing fighting gear, and . . . Aeris. A sigh left his lips as he remember the young woman that he had seen grow from a little girl. It was only after that did he clear his throat and continue through the queer forest he found himself trapped within.
An hour passed, and then two. Strangely enough, the sun hadn't seemed to ascend or descend at all since he had last looked. Wearily, he stopped next to a tree, feeling his legs buckle under him. The next thing he knew, he had dragged himself into a sitting position at the foot of the tree, his legs stretched in front of him. As he tilted his head against the bark of the tree, he grappled fiercely at the consciousness that lingered just out of his reach. Right before he lapsed into unconsciousness, he slowly, surely, moved his lips, a single name passing Tseng's cracked lips.
"Aeris. . ."
* * * * *
He watched in utter silence as the light brightened considerably outside. It was not usual to see light in Midgar, as many know. Next came the roar of the Sister Ray firing, and the brilliant glow that streaked across the sky, passing by the Weapon that came slowly towards Midgar, and striking the magical barrier that protected the northern cave. Sephiroth's current dwelling. The spectacular blast that followed the meeting between barrier and beam was earth-shaking, and he steadied himself against the window, watching as the magical barrier faded out of existence. But his face showed nothing that acknowledged the fascination that burned brightly within him.
When the alarms rang around him, he paid them no heed. His mind was in a trance, watching and probing the movements of the huge Weapon that lumbered towards Midgar. His feet wouldn't move even if he had wanted them to, and the glare of the red alarms only obscured part of his view. He could see rays of light flying past his office and window, striking parts of Midgar that he could not see from where he stood. This watch of the array of lasers was short lived for him, as he could partly see as one stray laser was fired directly at his window. His blue eyes narrowed considerably, and he prepared for the blast. The next thing he knew, he met intense heat, shattered glass, and the sudden knowing that he was too young to die.
But through it all, Rufus Shinra did not flinch once.