Wow.. two posts in one week ^.^;;
Anyways, here's a revised version of the ff7/8 crossover I posted way so long ago. The timelines for the two series are finalized... Seifer's position was pushed back to the end of Disc 2 (instead of 3).
Comments appreciated :) Please let me know if there are any formatting errors on this or my other post!
- Kus Kus
http://www.crosswinds.net/~dilandau/
|| SPOILER WARNING!! ||
FFVII / FFVIII is copyrighted to Squaresoft.
-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: ff78.txt
[ Chapter 1 ]
Sometimes...
Sometimes things change...
Sometimes things happen... and you wonder what if?
...What if you'd made the right decision?
...What if you'd been given another chance?
...Or perhaps, just a chance to make someone else's life right?
Aerith smiled at him, through her fear. The confusion on his face
was evident, and his sword still quivered at his side, beckoning
him to make that blow. Cloud was going to be sad, she knew, and
that look of anguish on his face almost broke her serenity. But
he would understand in the end.
Her smile faltered at the sounds above; a howling rush of air,
leather flapping, the hiss of a sword leaving its scabbard...
A moment of doubt clouded her resolution.
Wasn't there another way?
Don't let Cloud suffer...
Don't let Sephiroth suffer...
Please...
* * *
He drew in a ragged breath, spent. It took most of his remaining
strength just to kneel, and to keep conscious. Nearby he could
hear the dying wind from his Lady's Maelstrom spelll, followed by
the unique set of booms that could have only accompanied a
Renzokuken attack. Deliriously he smiled, remembering that the
Bloodfest technique he was working on would put puberty boy's
wimpy blow to shame.
Then the roar of the battle dimmed, punctuated by his Lady's
scream, then the quiet hiss of her tremendous gown and train. A
groan barely escaped his lips and he collapsed admist an overwash
of anger and despair. They'd been defeated! By those damnable
SeeD no less...
What was a Knight if he could not protect his Sorceress?
But then he saw the lithe, lovely form of the girl he'd met and
loved only a year before kneeling before him, worry distorting the
little space between her eyebrows. He swallowed as he looked into
her eyes, trying to force himself to be JUST angry and nothing else.
Suddenly, her eyes widened in fright and shock and she fell. Just
like that. Her beautiful head cracked against the floor, and he
couldn't hold back a tiny gasp. Tiny sparks of pain cascaded up
his sides, punishing him for that small gesture.
Then She beckoned him...
To be a knight again...
To feel the power that only She could grant him...
He rose to his feet. Yes...
But... Rinoa...
...What am I doing?
Something's wrong...
* * *
Mother...
Lamb to the slaughter...
Glory for Mother...
Such an innocent...
Innocent...
(I love...)
No...
...What am I doing?
Something's wrong...
* * *
Aerith felt it. And Rinoa felt it.
Though neither knew exactly what had happened.
If Rinoa were anything other than comatose, she would have cried.
* * *
Stars burst behind his eyes. For a moment he thought that Squall
and his cronies must have struck him while he was down.
The coward!
...And suddenly he was falling. His heart raced suddenly in panic.
What had happened to the gunblade in his hand? It was far lighter
than he remembered, strangely balanced, and raised above his head
as if to strike at the young woman who knelt below. She looked up
at him, a knowing smile on her face.
What the hell was she doing just sitting there?!
He twisted mid-air, and his side slammed into the stone floor with
enough force to knock all the breath from his lungs. Whatever blade
he'd been holding skittered away and clanged loudly against
something or other. Taking into consideration his wounds and his
depleted physical state, there was no way he could stand after
such a fall.
But then again, he wasn't wounded. And he wasn't tired. And who
the hell was screaming at him to kill the bitch?! He clapped his
hands over his ears.
"Aarrrgh! Shut the fuck up!"
***
He stumbled, blinking away the sudden stars.
There was no longer the sound of rushing water, or the haunting
echoes that blessed the underground hall in the Ancient City. In
fact, the metal walls and colorful decor was
That, and he was tired. Blood trickled out of the side of his
mouth. Each breath he took was an effort, the chest movement
sliding up and down broken ribs. Patches of burnt skin itched.
Idly, he remembered similar (and worse) wounds he'd suffered back
in his days as an elite ShinRa SOLDIER.
...As... As ShinRa...
...My god...
He remembered!
A euphoric smile broke on his face. For the first time in weeks,
months, YEARS, he'd had a thought unhindered by hate and ambition,
free from the madness that had engulfed him so long ago. Laughter
began to rumble in his chest, but whatever injuries he was
suffering from twisted it into a harsh fit of coughing. Once it
was done, he looked about, eager to take the first step towards
fixing errors of the past.
Then he caught sight of the motley group of young men and women,
as well a prone girl at his feet. They were all looking at him
with everything from suspicion to outright hate, the last belonging
to a scarred individual wearing a fur collared coat. It was then
that he noticed cloth at his chest where there hadn't been. His
eyes followed the blue shirt crossed in white, noted the steel
toed boots, peered across the gray sleeve with its ominous red
pattern, then fixated at the absurdly constructed blade in his
black clad hand.
Someone was telling him that the Sorceress needed her Knight.
But their mouths were still. It was not them.
And he would have none of that. Not anymore. So he pushed the
voice away.
His eyes met those of the scarred boy. He employed a look that
had cowed the hardest SOLDIER.
"Where am I?"
***
And two beings shrieked as one, their champions torn from them.
Then they sensed each other, for they transcended the limitations
of time and space.
And they knew they'd found kindred spirits.
Thus, a plan began to form.