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Legacy of the Lifestream	By : butabara Category: Final Fantasy VII > General Views: 2387 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not Own FFVII or its affiliates. I make no money from this execise in literary creativity.

Chapter List
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Chapter 51: Icarus

“Like Achilles, the hero who forgot his heel, or like Icarus who, flying cloe to the sun forgot that his wings were made of wax, we should be wary when triumphant ideas seem unassailable, for then there is all the more reason to predict their downfall.”
- Dwight Longenecker

A single orange ember, a spark drifting and dancing amid a sea of white. Its brethren followed, flecks of yellow, red, and gold swirling in a gentle cyclone. Flames licked, reached, tried to follow the embers as a creamy, pale hand reached into the vortex. Green eyes shone in awe and gratitude, lips the color of dusky, pale roses curved in a sweet smile.

“Thank you.” The Guardian whispered to the ancient creatures before her.

“We will meet again, my blood.” Keena answered with a smile just as sweet. “Raise me high, and we will protect this world together.”

“I’m so sorry, Hair!” Was the first thing Harmony heard. Sassi. Sassi was above her, clutching her to her chest and sobbing. Hot tears soaked the nape of Harmony’s neck, a warm palm cupped her bloody cheek. No gloves, she realized, as memory flooded her mind and she watched, as an outsider, the fateful day that she had met her Cetra.

A supernova exploded within her soul, the sensation one she remembered vividly as what she felt when she touched that glowing seal in an old bedroom, and her soul became eternally entangled with her Cetra. Instantly she felt the longing, the rush of power promising the ability to protect this precious creature. Emotion not her own battered her heart – desperation, terror, guilt, despair – and she pressed back, forced peace, hope, trust.

She heard Loz tell Sassi to move, and she blinked. Loz gasped. She held his gaze, commanding silence. Sassi gasped then, and Harmony knew that the Cetra could feel it too. She was back.

“Don’t scream!” Harmony hissed. “Trust me. Put me down, and move away.”

!@#$%^&*()

They were coming. There was no avoiding it, Kiku understood. The few Wu Sheng left behind to guard the palace were scrambling to the gates, the sounds of gunfire echoing across the vast courtyard. Each ricochet made Kiku flinch, her hands grasping Fionn and Miri’s so tightly that she was sure she should have broken their bones by now. Anxiety writhed within her, welling like bile in her throat. How would she keep Fionn and Miri safe through this?! She was just too weak, she was just a kid! She was-

Little Guardian. A soft, sweet call whispered in her mind. It was like a thousand, a billion voices speaking all at once, but she understood the words perfectly. Be calm. Be at peace with your duty. We will not leave you alone.

She swallowed heavily, understanding flickering behind her eyes. Lifestream? She asked.

Not quite. The voices spoke again. Little one, you are about to shift. We know you will be afraid, but do not fear it. You have experienced An Cruinniú** before. We will act, through you, and keep your friends safe.

At almost that exact moment the heavy sensation of power fled from Kiku’s body only to rush back, a crashing tidal wave of energy so much stronger than before. Her eyes flash, white starlight streaming brilliantly through the courtyard just as the large wooden doors burst apart. A wave of GR soldiers rushed in, met by Wu Sheng war cries and the vicious roar of a giant red lion.

Kiku squeezed Fionn and Miri’s hands one final time. She glanced to them, turning her head side to side to take each into her memory, and then memory ceased. In a blink she was right in the center of that battle, between the lines of enemy soldiers. A blistering burst of hot wind sliced in two lines before and behind her, stopping the advance from both sides as those booming, overlapping voices cried out.

“I do not want to kill you. Put your weapons down. Surrender yourselves to justice, and justice will be merciful… However,” Glowing eyes set in a too-small face dragged over the form of every GR soldier in her sight, “Any enemy still holding his weapon in ten seconds declares his life forfeit.”

!@#$%^&*()

Yazoo battled despair as he watched Chaos and Weiss dive toward each other. They were finished. They had lost. It was over. Vincent was down, likely succumbing to death at that very moment without the beast inside him binding him to life. Sephiroth had his hands full trying to keep Kadaj’s wailing form pinned to the mud. Kadaj certainly wasn’t functional enough to even realize how dire the situation was. And Harmony… Tears burned like acid trails down Yazoo’s cheeks; he struggled with disbelief and horror. Harmony was gone.

He watched Loz’s eyes go wide, watched him pull Sassi away from the limp body of their dead friend.

“Get Aerith and go.” Sephiroth’s strained voice yanked his attention to him, sprawled out atop Kadaj. “We’re finished… Go! We don’t matter!”

“We can’t just leave you to-” Yazoo tried to argue, but Sephiroth’s wild snarl knocked the wind from his lungs.

“We don’t matter!” He screamed. “They matter! They are the only things that matter! Get them out!”

Yazoo shot to his feet, his tears a cross between sorrow and bitter rage, then. He grabbed Aerith’s arm, uncaring of the way she shrieked and struggled and screamed that she would never abandon her friends. Over his shoulder he tossed her, and he had enough decency to flinch when her little hands pounded at his back. He turned, preparing to recruit Loz and Sassi and leave this place, and he wouldn’t have believed what he was seeing if anyone else had claimed it.

Chaos’ form stepped over Harmony’s prone body, his foot squishing in the mud and digging in to launch himself toward Weiss with greater momentum. Just before he kicked off, however, pale fingers wrapped around his dark ankle. Harmony’s eyes were open, wide and angry and victorious and alive, and before Yazoo could even fathom drawing the breath to cry out, both the Guardian and the demon vanished from sight.

!@#$%^&*()

The shrill beeping of the vitals machine was the only sound that could be heard in the cold, sterile room. Dr. Boughman hunched over his patient, taking tools from the woman-child beside him without even having to ask for them.

Sukai was weak. Her body was teetering on the brink of death before he’d administered the anesthetic to put her under, and now it was even worse. Dark, bruise-like shadows crawled up her skin, spreading further and further from the incision in her abdomen. He had to hurry. They were so close. Clamps in place, he set the scalpel aside and reached into the warm cavity carved open. It amazed him that the child within Sukai had grown so quickly – Sukai had been pregnant for less than two months, and in that short time the child had grown from a small bean-shaped mass, to a full-term fetus.

The rest of the surgery was a blur. Amniotic sac broken, liquid pooled and splashed carelessly. The sweet sound of newborn cries filled the room. Shelke took the child from his arms as soon as the umbilical cord was cut away. The procedure went just as beautifully as any normal cesarean. It was putting Sukai back together that quickly went downhill.

Dr. Boughman noticed it after the third stitch; Each time he looped wire and pulled it tight, the infected flesh would tear and the wire sliced clean through. The vitals machine beeped rapidly. Pumps hissed, lines flushed with oozing black. Sukai came alert with a choke, and her hands clawed at the tube shoved down her throat. Shelke left the newborn in the make-shift crib and darted to the table, holding Sukai’s shoulders so the doctor could remove the tube.

“Where’s my baby...” Sukai rasped, eyes darting in dizzying circles.

“She’s safe. She’s beautiful.” Shelke assured her, stroking wet hair from Sukai’s sweaty brow. “Doctor, the Gospel!” She whispered desperately. Dr. Boughman lurched away from the gurney, fumbling at the metal table until his slick, gloved fingers closed around the syringe that held Sukai’s only salvation.

“Her name is Kimiko.” Sukai choked. Shelke blinked, the unfamiliar sensation of fire burning in her sinuses flaring quickly as the fevered glaze over dark eyes began to fade, just as a thick needle speared into her arm and Dr. Boughman slammed the plunger down.

Nothing happened.

!@#$%^&*()

A cold stone floor pressed against Sukai’s cheek, unforgiving in its cruelty. The smell of decay and sewage curled in her nostrils; she fought a gag, forced the bile back where it belonged. She tried to sit up, but it hurt. It hurt in a way that was eerily familiar. Come to think of it, she recognized that horrid smell. Her eyes snapped open and she let out a small cry.

This cell. She knew this cell. This what the same room they kept her in when the Don owned her. The wetness on the floor was blood – hers – and sweat, glowing rich with mako. That was what smelled so awful… The scent that of hundreds of rotting corpses. What was happening? How was she back in this pit?!

“Sukai...” A voice called, and she whipped her head around to face the iron bars of the cell. The door creaked open on its own, a chilling screech stabbing at her temples. She crawled to her feet, stumbling and limping to the door, but the moment she crossed the threshold the scene changed.

She was in Donavik ShinRa’s office, standing with her hands folded respectively at her back.

“Your progress is impressive, Miss Hiroshima-Williams.” Donavik drawled in his annoying, cracking voice. “You’ll make a fine TURK. I’m glad to have you aboard.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She heard herself say. “I am honored to join such an elite team.”

Her legs moved without her consent, carried her out the door, and once more the scene changed when that door slammed behind her. This, though, was a scene she didn’t recall. She was in chains, sitting against the wall with her arms bound high above her. She was naked, bruised, blood streaming down her body from ragged cuts along her face and her chest.

“This is what was supposed to happen.” A voice said from beside her, and she shrieked and swung when she realized there was something right next to her. Her hand passed right through the form, and when it solidified again, she nearly hit her knees.

“Gege.” She breathed, taking in Tseng’s solemn features. He didn’t answer her. It was like he didn’t even hear her.

“This is what happened, before so many were sent to retrieve the Guardian and Cetra from the sister world. This is what happened before the Lifestream altered time.”

Footsteps in that dream-like world echoed, and Sukai turned back. She watched in horrified wonder as Rufus ShinRa himself hooked the edge of a wicked knife under her jaw and dragged the blade straight across. Her hand flew to her throat. Rufus’ smooth voice purred into an old phone.

“I’m finished. Clean it up, get rid of her. She wasn’t as much fun as I’d hoped.”

“Why did you think He was so frantic to transfer you from TURK, when he returned from his ‘mission’?” The creature masquerading as Tseng hummed. “You weren’t supposed to be alive. Rufus ShinRa abused you. Murdered you. He would not let it happen again. He left you later, because he could not let that happen again.”

“Are you… Are you the Lifestream?” Sukai asked, her voice small.

“No.” Finally, a direct answer!

“Then who are you? Why are you showing me these things?” She snapped. This was a whole new level of crazy. Was this what death was like? Eternal confusion and mind-blowing clusterfucks?!

“You and your spirit-brother are children of my domain. It is for me to decide what you need know in death. It is for me to claim you for my own, or send you on to the Stream which birthed us all.” The image of Tseng flickered, and when it returned Sukai found herself lost in eyes that most definitely were not the dark orbs of her Gege. Instead they were a startling blue, glowing and teeming with the vastness of the sea itself. His pupils were thin, vertical slits and Sukai gasped when he blinked and thin, transparent flesh slid sideways over his eyes.

“Leviathan!” She gasped. Her hand covered her heart and she stumbled back, eyes darting back and forth on the endlessly white floor she stood upon.

“You always were one of my more clever followers. As was your mother. I was pained to see her leave with the Pale Man.”

“Okay, okay wait!” Sukai said. “You can’t possibly appear to every Wutaian that dies. So why me?” She demanded. “I was… I was okay! I knew I was dying! I knew what I was leaving behind and I’d made my peace! So why give me time to mourn it?” Tears filled her lash-line and her lip quivered, and it only made her more angry to think that she was crying in front of her peoples’ god.

“Because I have never considered this offer, before.” He said simply. Sukai stopped spitting curses and blinked at the summon spirit.

“What offer?” She asked.

“You still wish to see your friends safe, yes? You wish to see your child grow into the power she will undoubtedly have? You wish to protect the man you love, the friends you have coveted?” Sukai nodded.

“Of course. But… I’m dead. How can I help them, now?”

The dragon before her, hidden within the body of her dearest friend, smiled. His hand extended, and Sukai’s eyes widened when she saw the glowing red orb resting in his palm. “You become like me. Like us. But, as I have already been rather creatively threatened, you will not do so alone.”

Sukai choked on her breath, her mind a swirl of chaotic thought. “You mean… You mean become a summon spirit?” She breathed. “Is that even possible, for a human?! Who would be with me?!”

“C’mon now, Baby Angel. You think your mama and I would let you go on alone?” The forms of Michael Willams and Ten Hiroshima ghosted into place behind Leviathan’s mask. Sukai felt like someone had punched her in the gut.

“Poppa… Mom...” She sobbed. “When?”

“I think we went before you, Sugar Plum.” Michael said softly. “Our bodies are still working, but… Angel, we’re not gonna wake up. If it’s trapped like that, or helpin’ you kick some ass, I think it’s an obvious choice.”

“We would never leave you trapped and alone, Nǚ'ér.” Ten soothed. “And we would love nothing more than to aid in the defeat of the evil that caused this. We’ve our own vengeance to wreak.”

Sukai stared at them, her gaze only leaving to flicker to that red orb and back again. Finally, she settled her eyes on Leviathan. “Yes.” She said. “We are honored to be chosen to walk among you. Xièxiè nǐ, wěidà de fùqīn***.”

*!*!*

*The Dwight Longenecker quote is from The Romance of Religion: Fighting for Goodness, Truth, and Beauty.

**an cruinniú – the gathering. This is what Guardian Mode is actually called.

***Thank you, great father.
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Legacy of the Lifestream