Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nyx looks at prisoner intake forms; the boxes begin to blur together into a fuzzy mess of serial numbers and photos. Nyx takes another swig of the cold cheap black sludge he calls coffee as he picks up another one to look over. He scribbles notes onto an almost full note book. Papers upon papers litter his small desk in the militaristic barrack he calls a bedroom. The room was almost depressingly empty beyond what few posters from home, important mail, and two photos of the people he loved pinned to the walls. It had been more or less the same since he had come to Insomnia with Libertus and Crowe. The sun streamed in through the shades covering the window, making Nyx grunt and squint at the abused electric clock on the bedside table that barely worked after one too many hard hits to the snooze button. The thing read 7:56 am. Nyx rubs his eyes as he distantly thinks about the fact he had worked though the night again, and that it was becoming a nasty habit. All he wanted to do was find this one kid.

[Teeth sunk into the thin flesh between his thumb and pointer finger. Like a lone wolf backed into a corner snarling. A last ditch effort to fight off the bigger threat. The soldier's tongue pressed against his hand as he bit down with more resolution to rip open his hand.

Blood poured over his eyes from a cut on his forehead as two older boys pummel him in basic training. They hurl insults like rocks about his birth outside Insomnia, say crude things about his mother and his own character. He bares his teeth instead of giving them the satisfaction of fear.

The cry of pain was involuntary as the teeth sink in deeper, breaking skin, sending blood down his hand. Nyx looked at the fucking teenager before him. His red lensed helmet had been knocked off into the dirt revealing the awkward, not quite finished face of a teenager. These were kids. Fuck, they where killing children. Nyx felt the horror and guilt twist in his chest, but it was quickly replaced by pain as the kid kicked him in the kidney. They may be kids, but they were still soldiers trying to kill them. Nyx pulled on his warp, feeling the magic pool in the top of his stomach and in an action that felt like the release of a sneeze, he warped back to his camp with the kid still attached to his hand.]

Nyx gathers the stacks of paper, sliding them back into their folder, and glances at the scar of the bite mark still on his hand. He runs his thumb over it. The soft flesh gives no indication of a scar tactically, but there's no mistaking the light pink discoloration in the shape of teeth. Did they have dental records yet? Nyx collects his things and puts on his off duty uniform, and on the bus ride over he goes through what he knows as the cityscape of Insomnia goes by.

During the conflict over 5,000 men were held as POWs. Over 3,000 of them were under 25 due to their war against Wutai killing most of the older soldiers. 1,094 were blond with blue eyes. He had already sorted through 194 of them in the last two days. Nyx could feel the tension headache building. Six, this was going to be a pain, and even if he found him there was no guarantee that he would take the sponsorship. Nyx wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t working on the sunken cost fallacy by now. The driver called for his normal stop over the intercom. It was the street that had the large prison that held POWs, and where Nyx spent most of his days since he was put on leave. 

Camp Amulius was one of the many places that held captives taken from Shinra Electric Power Company after their failed invasion and war. It was specifically made to hold the number of child soldiers that were taken. Any visitor is told as such by the plaque underneath the bust of Councilman Amilius in the entrance, the main patron of the camp. The building itself resembles more hastily built apartments than what people tended to picture a POW camp to be like. They weren't nice but they were leagues better than any of the thread bare shacks made by Niflheim or simply being kept in a pen by Shinra. 

The front desk was staffed by a man who could only be described as portly, with a chain for his glasses, and a small beaded bracelet made by his grandkid. He gave Nyx a polite nod and waved him into the She-Devil's office. Hippolyta Scientia sat at her desk typing on the computer with perfectly manicured nails, which were a sharp shade of red. Her desk was as perfectly neat as her nails with clean stacks of papers sitting in labeled trays, and a small shelf holding similarly organized office supplies. The only thing that felt out of place were the sharpened pencils pointed out of a crudely made ceramic cup that said "Ignis Scientia, Mrs. Olin's 3rd grade class," along the bottom edge.

"Good morning, Sir Ulric. Any luck?" She says without ever looking up from her screen.

"No." Nyx bites out, sliding the papers onto her desk, and slumps into the chair in front of it meant for visitors. He closes his eyes, feeling the exhaustion of another accidental sleepless night drag his body down. He lounges an arm over his eyes to block out the fluorescent lights that peak through his eyelids.

"It's been three weeks since you started this search for the biter, Sir Ulric, and you’ve come up empty every time you’ve entered my office. It might be time to give up. Find someone else to sponsor," Nyx hears her say.

"No. It has to be him," Nyx stays stubbornly. Too stubborn for sense or sympathy is what his father always said about him. Nyx had turned that to his advantage in his adult years, getting him into the Kingsglaive and Insomnia, and wasn't about to back down now.

"Why? What makes him special, Nyx?" Hippolyta asks.

"He bit me," Nyx says the same answer he gives to every person who has asked him this same question since he tried to track down the punk who bit him on that battlefield those months ago. Hippolyta lets out a sigh but lets the subject drop. It was the only answer Nyx really had as to why it was so important to him. It's the only one that didn't involve more self reflection than Nyx was comfortable doing, really.

"Where are you sending me today?" Nyx sits up, listening to his worn body creak slightly as he shifts.

"You will be working with some of the Shinra children to clean the Cafeteria. There was a food fight and you were the one who didn't give me more clear limitations when you volunteered manual labor in exchange for access to documentation," Hippolyta has on a catty smile, letting her background as a lawyer peak through. Nyx groans and rubs his face. Hippolyta knew exactly what she was doing. Nyx was the reason why the cafeteria for new trainees in the Citadel had monitors after he had started a food fight legendary enough that recruits still talked about it to this day. She hands him his visitor's pass and waves him off with a wiggle of her stupid red fingernails.

The hallways leading deeper into the building varied in quality. Some were solid brick whitewashed to a blinding degree, obviously brand new, whereas others had peeling paint and exposed drywall. Arrows had been painted onto the ground directing people to different places like the gym, bathrooms, rooms 502 - 514, laundry, and the Cafeteria. The likeness of Regis Lucis Calelem was in more places than what was strictly necessary to Nyx. Were they going to forget the King of the country they were in? Along with His Majesty, posters sporting positive messages, reminders of rules, and propaganda that was at least trying to be subtle were put up around the place. Nyx ripped down more of the awful ones. 

"Choose Joy." Fucking Six, yeah, that's what the literal child soldiers being held in a forgein country needed to hear. A few staff members linger in the hallways before classes and the daily routine begins; they don't give him a second glance as he passes by. Some of the kids stand together in tight clusters around bathrooms and the entrances, old Shinra dog tags hung from some of their necks. They talk in hushed whispers that stop as he passes them. Every now and then, one will be to the side on their own, and oftentimes he (they're always boys, barely men) had eyes too green for comfort. Nyx doesn't look at them and they don't look at Nyx. 

Reaching the Cafeteria, Nyx looks up at a glob of oatmeal on the ceiling and is honestly impressed. If he's impressed at the fact the oatmeal is on the ceiling in the first place, or the fact it's staying there in one big lump, it’s really an either or situation. The Cafeteria was the kind of mess that made Nyx a little sad he had missed the carnage. Various different food stuffs covered the walls, the floor, and, clearly, the ceiling. The food was stuck well enough to vertical surfaces that maybe he should talk to Hippolyta about what exactly was in it.

"I didn't fucking start it," A younger voice muttering under their breath gets closer, one of the Shinra kids Hippolyta mentioned. Nyx is still inspecting the other food that had made its way onto the ceiling.

"But you continued it," Said another voice, definitely one of the guards.

Nyx looked at where the voice was coming from, and his entire world slowed down. It was him. His complexion had improved and his face wasn't so thin, but the same blond hair was sticking up in wild directions and clear ocean blue eyes stared back at Nyx.

--searing pain in his hand, glove lost in the chaos, blood dripping from the bite mark--

"It's you-" "It's you."

They spoke at the same time, but as Nyx's voice held surprise the kid's voice was colored with anger.

Nyx couldn't have dodged the fist quickly approaching his nose even if he wanted to. Crowe was going to have a whole field day with this.

Cloud was having a shittier day than what was his normal shitty day. It had started the same as any other. Wake up in a room with six other people– which was at least familiar from his time in basic training. Cloud had never really bothered to learn their names. His roommates all talked about classes and escape plans. Cloud thought they were idiots so he didn't join in. Like, ok, say they do break out, then what? Their accent gives them away from being from the Western Continent in two seconds. Not to mention they’re not allowed to have money. Then Cloud dressed in his uniform of black shirt and black pants and took down their portrait of the king they had to have up for room inspection. Cloud didn’t understand why everyone in Lucis thought that King Regis was hot shit. Morning announcements and breakfast in the Cafeteria. Ms. Scientia waved at him from the stage at the front of the cafeteria with newly red nails. The normal bullshit from the Director: Blah blah be respectful blah blah His Majesty blah blah Tenebrae blah blah be thankful. Same bullshit as Shinra, different spewer. 

After breakfast, morning classes– which is what made the whole place bearable. Cloud learned he liked to learn things. Their history was completely different, but the math was the same. Science was also different, nothing on the Lifestream or materia. Apparently, every person in Lucis from the ages of 6 to the age of 18 were required to go to school. They could just do this for free. Free . In fact they had too. Back home, school was for middle class snobby rich kids because they were the only ones who could afford it. This was one of many things that boggled Cloud's mind. Like the fact that you didn't need air filters despite being in a city center, and the complete lack of mako anywhere. It almost made this place worth it. Almost because after morning class was Medical. Lucian doctors thought there was something with their lungs, so they did monthly checkups. Cloud didn’t have Green Lung, Ma knew better than to let him drink water that wasn’t sterilized, but Lucians believed there was something else wrong. The word “ asthma ” was thrown around but he didn’t understand what that word meant. Cloud hated it. Fucking hated every single moment. It involved too much touching which was any touching at all. Cloud wasn't used to people touching him other than Ma, Tifa, and Zack.

[Ma gives him a warm squeeze after a cold day in the snow. She places a mug of warm coffee into his hands with cream still swirling in the dark liquid. Tifa lays with her head on his stomach on a summer night warm enough for short sleeves and gaze up at the stars. Zack slings his arm over his shoulders making him teeter under the mass suddenly pressed against his person. Cloud tries to hide the blush creeping on his cheeks as Zack laughs and insists that he comes out with him to go visit Aeris(“Not Air-ITH, say it with me Cloudy, Air-EESS”)]

He broke one of the doctor's arms the first time he tried to touch Cloud without his permission. That was when he met Ms. Scientia. The doctor had tried to get Cloud tried as an adult (he was an adult, thank you very fucking much) and thrown in jail, but Ms. Scientia had pointed out that the procedure was beyond what the region required and a very clear violation of medical consent. (Another weird thing: Cloud could say no to doctors. Actual medical attention that wasn't thread bare and only technically not the Science Division). She made the doctor cry in court.

Cloud likes Ms. Scientia. 

From Medical was Free Hour or religious services. Cloud was actually allowed to honor the gods of the Hearth here. Shinra military pretty much liked to pretend no other gods but the Goddess existed. Something about a unified force. Cloud wrote the rune for Fenrir in red paint to represent the blood of an animal and washed it away. 

Next is lunch, which is when the whole problem started. An absolute jackass, one of the boys that made it his life's goal to take out his anger on Cloud because even an entire fucking hemisphere away he couldn't escape bullies, had tipped his tray onto him. In that moment any self preservation or good brain cells vacated his skull and he entered what Tifa liked to call his “meat head mode”, and he slammed his tasteless what-barely-passed-as-spaghetti into Jackass's face. Someone else had called a food fight and it wasn’t hard to imagine how the rest went. Classic Strife Luck meant that Cloud had to help clean up even though he didn't even fucking start it. At least Ms. Scientia had kept him out of detention, which was about two steps up from solitary back home. Cloud hated solitary, but hated detention more. In detention they made him actually fucking write what he did wrong and "three ways he was going to make better choices to avoid situations like this in the future". At least in solitary they left him alone to lick his pride. So, here he was, being marched like a six year old to go spend the day scraping almost food off the walls.

"I didn't fucking start it," Cloud growls at the guard (he was technically called a 'monitor' but that's fucking pretentous).

"But you continued it," he says back, not looking at him.

Cloud and Mr. “But You Continued It" entered the Cafeteria. A man with a rooster crest stood in the middle of the mess staring at oatmeal stuck on the ceiling. He was in a dark uniform that made Cloud prickle. It was similar to the Kingsglaive uniform. Cloud still had nightmares about them, most of the people in infantry did. The Kingsglaive or those man-shaped machine Magitech soldiers. The way they came out of thin air, striking down the soldiers around him with arcs of lightning and sharpened blades-- they didn't feel human, something out of bedtime stories that spoke of old gods and spirits declared blasphemous by Shinra that whisked away misbehaving children. They were more than human in the same way as SOLDIERs, but those people hid behind shadow. They were cloaked in black against the dark sky, they always attacked past dusk under the cover of night, wreaking havoc on Cloud's internal clock, and they warped so fast he didn't know where to point his rifle. They left as soon as they came, leaving you alive but shell shocked and terrified that they might attack again. It was like trying to fight a force of nature. How do you shoot a hurricane? Punch lightning? 

The man turned around and his eyes met Cloud’s.

[Cloud could barely focus on the battle in front of him as his head rang with a concussion. His helmet's strap had been shattered by the butt of the curved blade in his attacker's hand which had slammed into his head. Blood flowed from the wound, over his nose and mouth, and he could taste it on his lips, the coppery smell mixed with the film of ozone. The Glaive had placed his hand over Cloud's mouth to keep him from saying the command for the single meager materia in his gauntlet. The Glaive's glove had been lost at some point in the battle, exposing calloused bare skin.

The memories of hunting with his mother and seeing a lone wolf separated from its pack snarling at a Nibel dragon rush past. It sunk its teeth into the dragon's arm. Blood had gushed over its snout before the dragon roared and flung the wolf into the brush. Cloud did the only thing he could think of. For some reason the man had stuttered to a stop staring at him from hidden eyes. Seeing the opening for what it was, Cloud bit down on the man's hand right on the thin skin between his thumb and pointer finger. Blood invaded his mouth. Cloud refused to die without a fight. Wasn't going to die without being a part of SOLDIER. Wasn't going to die with his throat flayed open like the stomach of a deer, like so many of the other infantrymen. Cloud felt satisfied at the shout of pain that came from under the Glaive’s hood, and even got a good look at his face before his whole world was focused on the sounds of shattering glass and the roiling nausea in his stomach]

"It's you-" "It's you."

They spoke at the same time. The Glaive, the reason he wasn't home, the reason why he couldn't see Ma or Tifa or Zack, the reason why Cloud was stuck in this fucking country that insisted on treating him like a child when he’s fifteen already, was standing in front of him. He sounded surprised to see him. Cloud would have been surprised as well if it wasn't for all the anger he'd been hoarding for the last five months of bouncing between POW camps suddenly demanding itself be made manifest.

Cloud felt very satisfied at the crunch of the Glaive’s nose as it broke under the punch.

Then he knew he had fucked up when he was tackled to the ground by Mr. "But You Continued It".

The Lost Land Mass: the story of the first five years of contact with Eos. 

An anthology of first-hand accounts 

Everyone remembers where they were when Shinra announced they had gotten past the Northern West Current. Most people believed it to be a fool's quest. No one had gotten past the current in recorded history since the Ancient eras. Whether in your home, or at a bar, or asleep and waking to the news; everyone remembered.

I personally was sitting with my girlfriend, now wife, with the evening news on in the background. Shinra announced they were going to make “Great Strides for the company” and “settle uncharted wilderness for the betterment of the Western Continent’s people”. Everyone recognized it as the same jargon used for propaganda during the Wutai War, which had only ended months beforehand. That sentiment was great, of course, except that no one had asked for them to go colonize a new landmass. Poverty was at an all-time high based on a 1987 study done in collaboration with the PCA, or the Populous Census Association. At the same time, more and more people were dying of Mako Pneumoconiosis , or Green Lung– named due to the green coloration in the lungs of reactor workers and those who lived near them. Most of the populace in Gaia wanted domestic relief in the form of better and more accessible medical care, in addition to safer working conditions, but– in one statement given to us by current WRO leader Reeve Tuesti– “shareholders didn’t find it exciting enough.”

At the whims of the shareholders and President Shinra himself, the expedition across the tide was pushed to the head of funding instead of relief efforts for the ailing population. This was a deeply unpopular move, but the Corporatic government was, by design, untouchable for the common citizen. Millions of gil were funneled into the navy to create a ship strong enough to brave the current. The question of “why not go over the current?'' was poised multiple times, but like most ships trying to cross the Northern West Current, any plane that went over was taken down by the violent high-low pressure zones and strange magnetic interface throughout the area. The record holder for getting furthest past this deadly zone, Cid Highwind, refused to fly again after Shinra cut funding to his beloved space program. We reached out for a comment, but the given response held too many expletives to be included.

It seemed that going by water was the only way to reach what lay beyond. A new type of warship was developed by Shinra’s very own Head of Weapons Development Scarlett Cottrell. The cost of the warship was somewhere in the area of 3 million, though unfortunately more accurate numbers were lost in the Fall of Shinra after the defection of General Sephiroth and Commanders Hewley and Rhapsodos. An expedition team of 2,000 infantry and 40 SOLIDER Second and Thirds were loaded onto the ships and sent to face the deadly patch of sea.

Compiled here are a series of first-hand accounts from both sides of the conflict to create a more personal story and clearer understanding of the event known as First Contact, as well as the ensuing war from the very people who lived it. For the sake of the readers on both sides of the world, those hailing from the kingdoms of Lucis, Tenebrae, Niflheim, and the Republic of Accordo will be referred to as from Eos, and those from the Continents will be referred to as from Gaia. 

I met Marie Alland while on a message board for rare birds and reached out when I saw her military uniform on her profile. She was more than a little reluctant to tell her story, but ultimately reached back out to me to tell it. She calls it “Facing her Daemons.” She was very clear on the spelling. Mrs. Alland hails from the Northern Continent, 30 miles (48.28 km) from the famed Icicle Inn. During first contact she was 25 and the rank of E-3 (Private First Class) within Shinra’s infantry. She still lives in the same area and now works as a wildlife conservationist. 

“I’m not proud of what I did.

“I’m not. 

“When Shinra announced Operation: New Frontier, everyone knew they were heading to the Lost Continent, as my CO liked to call it. The infantry was pulled into an assembly and told the news: the Science Division had discovered a way to breach the Northern West Current. No one said a damn thing, and not just because we were still at attention. Personally, my first thought was “Shit, we’re going to have to be shipped out.” This was going to be Wutai all over again was the general consensus. Shinra didn’t really do diplomacy. They took what they wanted, and if you cooperated, maybe you got a say in what was left. 

“Our orders came in from the top brass a few days later, and we all had this feeling of impending doom. An entirely new landmass, and we were being sent in to conquer first and ask questions later. It left a bad taste in all our mouths. Most of us didn’t expect to come home. We didn’t have a choice, though. We traveled for weeks on those new shiny boats. They were behemoths of boats, ships really, massive and state of the art with the most fuel efficient mako engine ever created. That’s what the briefing said at least. It smelled like acid reflux. I hated it. Being from up north, being out on the open ocean wigged me out. If you fell into water from where I’m from, it could easily kill you just from the sheer cold; loose fingers and toes and all that. So. Yeah, me and the open ocean never got along– plus all the rocking. It made my insides twist something awful. I nearly threw up, and to add insult to injury, I couldn’t afford any of the on ship seasickness medication, so I just had to suffer. My bunkmate was fuming like a broody chocobo until the ocean leveled us out. 

“There had been a massive storm moving in and it hit us dead on. We had been told to expect bad weather from the get go. If the Current didn’t completely capsize us, the near constant storm above it would. Everything not battened down was swept overboard. It was like Typhoon himself was pissed at us for crossing over into where we weren’t supposed to. I was never the religious type, just wasn’t raised in it, but during that storm I thought about praying to someone’s god. It tossed us in every direction, slamming us around like rag dolls. It was only the sailors' expert handling and the intervention of a Summon that kept us from capsizing. Apparently, it-- Leviathan himself-- parted the waters just long enough for the ship to pass. I wasn’t there for the actual Summon-- I was below deck at the time battening down crates-- which I’m still bitter over. I mean, how often do you get to see Commander Rhapsodos use a Summon?  

“After getting through that current, I’d never seen sailors more happy. One guy literally kissed the deck. The Science folk were losing their minds, too. They scurried like mice away from cats to get their equipment up and running, yelling about readings and data and samples. They sent up a weather balloon at one point, I think. It all kinda went over my head, sorry about that. I just know they were incredibly happy about everything. Us grunts were busy trying to fix most of what the current and the storm had broken. We weren't sunk, obviously, but the ship had taken on more than a little damage. Most of the guns mounted had been tossed clean off the side. The ammo for our rifles were fine, but I’ll mourn that submachine gun ‘till the end of my days. I’d worked so hard to get the paperwork for that thing through, and it had served me well on more than one mission. 

“We ended up making Landfall at what I now know as Galdin Quay. Lookin back, it was the literal worst place we could’ve made Landfall. A slow, quiet take over creeping toward the capital would have been better. Instead, we landed somewhere that was highly populated, full of civilians, with a low military presence-- AKA easily conquered. We came charging out of the boats onto the beaches and it became damn right pandemonium. People started screaming and yelling about Niflheim and the Empire. We didn’t know what that meant, but at my level you didn’t get paid enough to care. There was little military resistance and the civilians didn’t cause a problem; not against our rifles. We had known there was life on the lands before we got close, saw people from the drones and shit that was sent out before making Landfall after getting past the Current. Real experimental stuff from the Science spooks. What happened next I ain’t proud of, but it was follow orders, or get court marshalled, and Shinra contracts are iron clad. The kind that’ll get you sued to oblivion. So I gunned down civilians. A sway and spray deal. 

“I don’t think the killing was what made me feel so bad. I wish I had better words for it, but I just felt bad all over. The kind of bad that just covers everything else in you. It was the bodies. Bodies returned to the Lifestream in Gaia. They didn’t do that here. The people laid there on the sand dead. Men, women, and children. Just bodies littering the beach, soaking the sand red. Innocent people. I had to look at their faces. I had to sit with the lives I’d taken instead of having the comfort of forgetting as they dissolved. It was the first time I had seen a dead body. Even the Commander looked unsettled. We had no idea what to do with them. Just leaving them around made people unsettled, so we piled them up outside of town. 

“There was one woman that stuck with me. She wasn’t old, but not young either, and she had a bloody locket clutched in her hand. The name “Coctura Arlund” was engraved on it. I don’t fully understand why she stood out to me or even why I took it, but I still have it. If you know a Coctura Arlund that died in Galdin Quay and you’re reading this-- contact the author. Please. I have her locket, and I’m sorry.

“It wasn’t just people either. We destroyed homes and businesses. The only houses left standing were used for barracks and the stores were raided for supplies. It was these people’s entire lives. After the slow death of Wutai, Shinra was going for a more “raze everything to the ground and salt the earth” type approach to this conflict. We sent a pretty clear message.

“Shinra was here. 

“What we hadn’t known was the connection it had to Insomnia as a favored vacation spot, so the moment we made contact the capital had been alerted, and Lucian troops were on their way. According to reports, we held Galdin Quay for about two weeks after my squadron, one of several, headed inland to scout along the map we got. Stupid move. We stretched ourselves too thin. If you ask me that’s what really killed Shinra, it's arrogance. Instead of being cautious or choosing diplomats instead of soldiers, they went in guns blazing. Shinra was so used to being on top of the world, drunk on the power of mako, that It never occurred to them that someone else might be better. Those two weeks are how long it took the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive to mobilize and get to Galdin Quay. I’ve read the reports of that first loss at Galdin, and it must have been a sight to behold. My squad didn’t have to deal with the Kingsglaive. We got Daemons. 

“We traveled by day and well into the night on this stretch of road. We knew the light made us a target, but with three SOLDIER Thirds with us, we felt confident. After all, this place doesn’t put up much of a fight. “Look at what happened at the beach. Look at how easy they fell.” Goddess, we were wrong. At first we believed they were just normal monsters like the ones back home, but this thing was massive and aggressive with two horrible horns that gored four men with one charge at us. It snarled and roared so loud my heart ached in my chest. We pumped lead into this thing, magazine after magazine. It didn’t even flinch. The bullets just bounced off its thick hide. Finally, the last standing SOLDIER Third slit its throat, blood spraying onto his uniform. One of my remaining squad members used to hunt for food and knew how to bleed and dress it. 

“We didn’t even know to be afraid.

“Ignorant of the dangers in front of us-- of the Starscourge-- we ate and celebrated our victory before bunking down. It didn’t smell bad. It gave no indication that it was unsafe so our squadron, reduced to half by that thing, ate their fill. My diet before then had mostly been fish and mammals like elk, nothing that big . The dressing of a mammal that large had made me ill, so I stuck to my MRE. This is what ended up saving me. 

“When I awoke that next morning, it was to the blade of a spear pressed into the vital skin of my neck. The rest of my squad had their throats slit like slaughtered animals.  A man stood over me with tattoos up his arms. The spear wasn’t what scared me, though. It was the corpses of my squad mates. Black sludge leaked out of their mouths, ears, and nose in chunks. The blood that had pooled from their slit throats was the same black, jelly like consistency. Their skin clung to their bones making their bodies almost skeletal. This putrid smell wafted off each of them along with a dark miasma. More bodies that didn’t dissolve. I was starting to question if the Lifestream even reached here. Even we were seemingly being forsaken by the Goddess, and it wasn’t like I thought we didn’t deserve it.

““Who do you work for?” The man had asked me. It was Common, but the sentence structure was kinda off, and the accent was weird. I didn’t have the stomach to reply, so he just handcuffed me and dragged me away. Best damned thing that ever happened to me, believe it or not. Suddenly, I had consistent rations even if they kinda tasted like cardboard, and information about what’s going on beyond “shut up and do what you’re told.” I got new boots! That I didn’t have to pay for myself! They were kinda shitty boots but at least they didn’t have holes in them. I was shoved into what I was later told was a Hunters cabin, and then a makeshift POW camp once Lucis got word of what was going on. At first, I had no idea what was going on. After an interrogation, I expected to be killed like Shinra does most of the time, or shoved in a dark hole like Wutai did. Instead, I had a clean cell with two meals a day. I just kinda stayed there for most of the conflict bouncing between camps. Boring, I know. Shinra got thoroughly beaten after Niflheim and Tenebrae joined the conflict, but most people know that. Peace talks started right after getting transferred to my third camp in six months, and next thing I knew I was on a ship home.” 

The following is the transcript of the interrogation by Hunter Dave Auburnbrie of the Shinra infantrywoman. I've translated it for readers.

Unknown: Wha?

Dave: Who are you?

U: What's going on?

Dave: You came from Galdin Quay. Who are you?

U: private first class Marie Alland of Shinra infantry?

D: Shinra?

U: Shinra.

D: repeating my words doesn't make me understand them

U: Shinra the company?

D: A company has an army?

U: yes? Why wouldn't it?

D: I don't have the time to tell you why that's wrong.

U: well you have me at knife point..

D: fine I don't want to tell you right now. I want to know why you're here.

U: I'm [coughing] Heidegger is stupid and I'm not paid enough to commit treason.

D: Is Heidegger your general

U: no, he's the executive of public defense

D: executive?

U: repeating my words doesn't make me understand them.

D: hardy har har. [ loud slamming noise], why did you burn down Galdin Quay? Why kill all those people?

U: I was following orders, I'm not high enough rank to get more explanation than "point there and shoot"

D: ok, where are you from. What do you want with Lucis

U: I'm from the icicle inn area, I don't want anything to do with Lucis, well I'd like to get back home alive.

D: what *country* are you from.

U: I'm from the northern continent.

D: You're fucking with me

U: [cough] Now you've caught on.

D: look, people are dead, more people will die if we don't understand what you want. you're young, you don't have to have anymore blood on your hands.

U: [long pause] look bud, I know what people do to prisoners of war. If i go back to Shinra and they learn I spilled, they kill me, I stay here you kill me.

D: You're a prisoner of war, that's a protected status. I couldn't kill you if I wanted to kid.

U: yes you could, it's war.

D: maybe where you're from but not here. you're in a cabin full of witnesses, and why the hell would I kill my only source of information

U: [another long pause] can you protect me from Shinra?

D: I can try.

U: Shinra was a globe spanning corporation that controlled laws and mako production. I say it was, because after getting through the NorthWestern tide we just found the other half of the planet.

D: you're from beyond the Tidemother's current

U: Uh kinda Wutian way of putting it but yeah

D: Wutian?

U: A country on my side of the world. Wutai. We just got out of a war with them

D: Why start another war then?

U: betterment of the continents [cough] through new resources.

D: hm

U: Look I'm not told much, I get what Shinra tells the public.

D: You'll get new clothes soon and something to ear

U: I don't have money to pay you

D: you don't have to

U: huh

Chapter Text

Nyx doubled over to clutch his now very bloodied nose, white hot pain flares across his cheek bones. Nyx groaned out a naisely sound of pain. Fucking Ifirit that kid could throw a punch. Once the initial surprise of getting hit faded, he finally registered that the kid was being pinned to the ground. Nose leaking blood like a fire hydrant and using his best field voice Nyx yelled at the guard.

"Hey, get your fucking ass off of him," Nyx tried to put as much Drautos in his voice as he could. The voice that made new recruits think twice about starting shit, but that was hard when you sounded congested.

"Sir, he attacked you," The guard tried to justify.

"Six, he looks 150 lbs soaking wet and barely 5 foot, I'm not in any danger," Nyx countered, tugging off his shirt and pressing the fabric against his nose to dam the blood.

"I'm 5 '3" the kid remarked from underneath the guard voice a little wheezy from the weight. Nyx finally just warped the guard off of the kid. Nyx saw him flinch severely, the motion took over his entire body for a split second. Fuck, those eyes don't have any glowing green which meant he was part of the infantry. The people the Glaive chewed through like a meat grinder. Nyx walked back over and offered his hand, the kid ignored it while getting up on his own instead. Teachers and staff rushed into the cafeteria doors. They must have heard the commotion.

"It's fine, go back to whatever you were doing. There was just a disagreement between-'' Nyx looked at blondie for his name.

"Cloud," he says, like it physically hurt to give up.

"Just a disagreement between Cloud and I," he tried to get ahead of the situation before they make the connection between the blood on Cloud's fist and Nyx's nose. They looked at the situation with a good deal of suspicion but dissipate back into the hallway back to whatever they had left behind. 

Wait.

"Your name is Cloud? like the things in the sky?" Nyx turned his attention back to the blond.

"Yes" he says, words coming out clipped and sharp enough to cut.

"Ok Cloud, My name is Nyx Ulric,  I want to talk with to you in private," Nyx didn't want this chance to go to waste.

"No," He replied the moment Nyx finishes his sentence.

"Kid-"

"Don't call me kid," This got Cloud to look at him and there was anger in his eyes that Nyx understood all too well.

" Cloud Let’s at least talk somewhere less covered in food?" Nyx motioned to the entire room around them and its state. Cloud narrowed his eyes even more if it was possible. They both look at each other waiting for the other to make some kind of suggestion. After a solid 3 minutes of waiting, Nyx finally cracked. He was too tired for a stubborn off on no sleep.

"How about Mrs. Sciencia's office?" She tolerated Nyx to the point he would call them friends. As long as it didn't dissolve to blows again she would let them use her space. This must have been the right thing to say because Nyx saw Cloud at least think about it.

"If I go with you, will you leave me alone after," Cloud asked. That wasn't a good sign, it really wasn't what Nyx wanted to hear, but maybe he could talk him into it. Even living in his sparse apartment was better than this place.

 "Let's talk first," Nyx says instead of lying to him. If this sponsorship was going to happen then they would be seeing a lot of each other.

Sciencia looked up from her computer at the two of them as they walked in. They must have been a sight to see, Cloud brooding as hard as he could, looking like he would rather fight daemons than be around Nyx, and Nyx with his nose swollen and broken and his shirt now back on his body, sported a large fresh blood stain.

"Two of the largest trouble makers I know in the same breathing space, someone get a fire extinguisher," Hippolyta  snarked but she was smiling as she did. She regarded Nyx's broken nose with a raised eyebrow.

"What happened to you?" She asked. Nyx gestured at Cloud who looked a little too pleased with himself.

"Hi, Mrs. Sciencia," Cloud waved and some of the weight he'd carried since they'd met seemed to lift away. He at least had the decency to sound a little sheepish.

"Hey Hippolyta , wondering if we could borrow your office. Do you have any sponsorship forms in here," Nyx takes a seat. He can see the gears turning in her head as she looks better at the two of them and thinks about Nyx's request. 

"Oh Six, is he the biter?" Hippolyta  leaned forward onto her desk, eyes darted between Cloud and Nyx.

"Biter?" Cloud's expression was back to stormy.

"Didn't exactly know your name, and it's not everyday I'm bitten in combat," Nyx tugged off his glove to show the faint pink scarring of the famous Bite. Cloud let out a noise that was half snort and half bark of laughter.

"Holy shit, it scared," Cloud said with an amount of glee that made Nyx worry for his continued good health around him.

"Yeah, so my friends just call you blondie or The Biter," Nyx shrugged as Cloud looked at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Your friends know about me?" Cloud asks and his head tilts a little to the side like a dog.

"He's been looking for you for the better half of three weeks," Hippolyta  said as she popped back up from getting paperwork from the drawers built into her desk. The word "Form SI-8: Sponsorship Application" was written in big bold lettering across the top. Nyx motioned for Cloud to sit and got a look that says "I'm doing this because I want to not because you asked me to,"

"What's sponsorship?" Cloud asked as he scanned the paper. Hippolyta 's eyes light up in the way they always did when she got to talk about law. It was like a switch got flipped into "Lawyer Mode'' in her head.  

"Before Galdin Quay and first contact, Lucis had been losing a war in Nifelheim for about 120 years. His Majesty had placed a magical barrier around the capital to keep it safe, so most people in Lucis wanted to get into Insomnia which created an immigration issue. To try and remedy this His Majesty created Sponsorships. People could sponsor another person and help along their immigration process, and would be semi-responsible for them while the immigration process is completed. After the war with Shinra ended, His majesty wanted to give Shinra infantry members especially those under the age of 18, a chance to get out of POW camps so he passed the SI-8 Sponsorship application which is similar to the normal application, but there are some altered requirements and it's a bit more of a streamlined process. They also tend to be prioritized when it comes to Sponsorship applications,"

Nyx watched as about 5 different emotions fluttered across Cloud's expression. Boredom, to something between frustration and anger, to curiosity, to confusion and finally a dazed understanding.

"And you want to sponsor me?" Cloud regarded the thought with a healthy amount of skepticism.

"Yes, It's pretty common for Glaive members to sponsor Shinra infantry members, a lot of us are immigrants from outside insomnia. We know what it's like to be stuck somewhere unfamiliar alone with no one to help, and you guys are on an entirely different continent," Nyx scratched the back of his head and didn't meet Cloud's eyes. This was already more soul baring than he had planned today.

"Ok, but why me? What's the angle?" Cloud narrowed his eyes at him.

"You bit me, and there's no angle," Nyx answered. This made Cloud look even more confused. He looked to Hippolyta for answers, but she just shrugged back.

"Well, those who sponsor someone under 21 or applying to go to university or in university do get a tax break since they're listed as dependents," Hippolyta chimed in. Cloud's expression returned to grumpiness and closed off.

"So you want a tax break," Cloud crossed his arms and sank into his seat. Nyx mentally groaned, there goes the curiosity he'd at least drummed up. Any emotion was better than the cold suspstion.

"No, Cloud, I don't know.  Anyone with the guts to bite a kingsglaive member has my respect, and six forbid I think you deserve more than that ," Nyx motioned to the rest of the POW camp beyond Hippolyta 's office.

"What about all the other people here? You're gonna sponsor all of them? I'm not better than any of them, they deserve to get out of this shit hole too. I fought and bled with those people and I'm not gonna abandon them. No man left behind, don't know if you have that here in Insomnia. Take your sponsorship to someone who wants it," Cloud laid the snark on thick, snarling the word Insomnia with the venom of an anti-royalist. The image of a snarling wolf flashes in Nyx's mind. 

Ifrit damn it, this wasn't how this was supposed to go. He wanted to get this kid out of here. If they were as alike as Nyx thought this place would chew him up and spit him out, and unlike him there would be no kingsglaive for him to escape too. He would wait here till the negotiations with Shirna ended and be sent right back to being a child soldier and the poisoned air and exploitation. Six, he wanted to sponsor Cloud because he saw himself in him. This was not the time for this realization. How could he get him to stay? What did he have to offer that Cloud couldn't get here. What was something only accepting Nyx's offer could give him? Nyx wracked his brain for answers. He ruffles his rooster crest and turns to Cloud who looked at him with the same cold regard. His dog tags glinted in the fluorescent lights and stood out against the black uniform.

Oh

"Hippolyta , would you mind?" Hippolyta  turns around and covers her ears with a pair of black headphones. She knew when Nyx was going to talk about something illegal, and Hippolyta  was still a lawyer. Cloud gave both of them a weird look.

“Cloud, do you have family back in Gaia?" Nyx leaned over, bracing his elbows onto his knees.

"Why," Which was about the expected response.

"I grew up outside insomnia, we didn't always have the plentiful supplies' insomnia has, so there was a pretty healthy black market. I used to trade the fur and meat I hunted for supplies. Since Princess Lunafreya, Rhapsodos, and His Majesty managed to get leviathan to dissipate the TideMother current, I've heard some rumors of people shipping things between Gaia and Eos under the table, including postage. If you take the sponsorship then I might be able to do something to your family in Gaia," Nyx knew it was a long shot. Knew he won't be able to guarantee that he could get anything for sure to whatever family he has in Gaia. This fact either didn't matter to Cloud or he didn't realize it because his eyes go wide and a little glassy. He didn’t immediately answer, instead sat there waffling over it.

"You also don't have to eat cafeteria food," Nyx threw in to sweeten the pot. Cloud didn’t need to know his cooking was only slightly better than when he was a teenager. Cloud pursed his lips and his eyes darted to the paper and back to Nyx.

“Cloud, you can still file for abuse of any kind while under sponsorship. You'll have a right to legal counsel and I personally make sure Nyx never sees the light of day again if he hurts you,” Hippolyta says, still turned around, and Nyx knew she meant it. Cloud looked to be seriously considering it now.

"How long does it last?" Cloud picked up the paper to look over it.

“One year then It needs to be renewed. You can cancel it anytime, but Nyx will need to provide a legitimate reason. Threatening someone into canceling a sponsorship is an offense punishable by up to 3 years in a correctional facility and a 4,000 gil fine," Hippolyta offered.

“And I get to leave this place?” Cloud’s voice was small and quiet. 

“You’ll be staying with me after Hippolyta  finishes filing paperwork,” Nyx said.

“Fine. I’ll take it,” 

Contrary to popular belief, Cor Leonis didn’t mind paperwork. He was a human with a working brain, and thus thought the endless bureaucracy was stupid at the best of times and got people killed at the worst. The system of endless requisition forms and request forms and insert form for whatever was put in place by Mor’s father was airtight. Regis couldn’t change it if he wanted to, so Cor had to do a lot of paperwork and got damn good at it. One specific thing he got the divine pleasure of doing after losing a bet with Dratos was any sponsorship requested by the kingsglaive was filtered through him. When Cor saw the first set of papers in an increasingly large file of requests, he almost scheduled a meeting with the optometrist, because he had to be seeing that wrong.
Nyx Ulric was sponsoring someone. Nyx Ulric. This had to be wrong. Nyx could barely keep a houseplant alive much less a – Cor looks at the paper again– a 15 year old, and a very traumatized one at that. Gods, 15 years old. Even almost a year after the end of the war Cor never could stomach the idea of child soldiers. Maybe it was because he joined up around their ages or maybe because Shinra was sending them off to all but die on an isolated foreign land, but his stomach always turned into knots when he read about the Shinra kids. Cor’s eyes flicked to the framed photo of Prompto on his desk. The folder was sparse in a way that matched the kids cutting glare in his intake photo. He looked ready to jump through the glossy photo pinned to the top of his papers and strangle whoever dared peer into his personal information.

Name: Cloud Strife

Age: 15 

Birthdate: August 11, 1986

Eye color: Blue

Hair color: Blond

Sex: Male

Gender: Male

Height: 5’3

Weight: 124 lb

Mako treatments: No

Living relatives: Mother - Claudia Strife

Notes:

Held at Camp Amulius. Cloud Strife is a bright young man that shows clear signs of PTSD and Anxiety. Excels at academics but aggressive when approached by staff, and has problems with fighting and authority. Practices a religion native to his home in nibelheim, but refuses to give any more details. Speaks highly of his squad mates, but holds a clear grudge against Shinra power and electricity.   

So he’s just like Nyx.

Cor was reaching for his approval stamp and his interview exception paperwork before he finished reading. 

The week between finalizing the sponsorship paperwork and being picked up by Nyx was a hell rivaled only by his first week in basic training. Sleep turned itself into a nice concept than a reality as he rolled the decision over and over in his head. He was getting out, but was Nyx really the same man behind closed doors? Hippolyta trusted him, which was something. Would he keep his end of the deal and try to get a letter to his mom? Gods, talking with mom again. Telling her he was alive and relatively ok. Cloud could still picture the long cardigans she wore in the fall and the smell of her body wash as she curled up next to him during winter. He missed her so much and if this Nyx person wasn’t lying out his ass then maybe he could at least see her looping hand writing again.  

His bunk mates had been as pleasant as they always were which was an indirect way to say not at all. Cloud still thought they were idiots. Other kids avoided him even harder, if that was possible, and stopped bothering to hide their scorn in tight gossip circles instead just saying it to his face. They jeered accusations of being a sell out and a traitor. Cloud didn’t understand the traitor remark. Shinra didn’t care about them. What were they still holding onto? All Shinra cared about were the handful of Soldiers that were still in Insomnia and Sephiroth who was firmly under the king's protection. He’d all but been adopted by the royal family if the rumors from the teachers were to be believed. Those same teachers had given Cloud a goodbye that sounded warm on paper, but the subtle glee Cloud could see in their eyes that he was leaving killed any goodwill they had meant. Hippolyta  though had given him a hug that felt like summer after she helped him pack what meager possessions he had since no one else would. She promised she would still be reachable while sliding a note with her cell and office phone number into his hand. After that he has spent most of his days listless. He wasn’t required to go to classes anymore, so he just stewed in his emotions. They collected and compounded till the day he would leave felt like ragnarok.

Cloud’s nerves settled in his stomach like lead, but refused to let it show on his face. Nyx’s car was sleek and black and absolutely beautiful. Cloud loves machines. During his time at Shinra he spent most of his time learning how cars worked in the motor pool for his job. They are like giant puzzles to figure out. The purr of the engine is music to his ears, and there's nothing that Cloud wants to do more than crack open the hood and figure out how it ran without mako. 

“You can put your stuff in the trunk,” Nyx walked him to the car each step leaving the POW camp behind, still purring like a content cat. All Cloud had to his name was what had been given to him in a trash bag which included his infantry uniform, a few odds and ends that he collected during his months at the camp, and a few changes of jet black clothing, lucian style. It all fit in his arms which he clung to. Nyx shrugs  his shoulders in a “have it your way” motion and opens the passenger door. 

The inside of the car is fancier than cloud has ever seen, which probably isn’t saying much as cloud’s car experience was the humvees that Shinra used. It drove smooth as butter across the Lucian roads. There were no sudden bumps or potholes that made Cloud fly from his seat, just smooth pavement the entire drive. The Insomnia cityscape started to come into view and Cloud couldn’t stop his mouth from opening just a little in awe. The crown city truly was beautiful. It was grand in the way mountains demanded to be, but sleek and modern in the way above the plate was. Skyscrapers Glittering in the twilight sun mix with smaller buildings sporting more classic architecture all so close together you could leap from one rooftop to another.  Innovation and the ancient together in one city. The grand glass buildings gave way to a more industrial style part of town. People hustle and bustle and speak at shops and food carts. They dance in abandoned lots and laugh with each other in mismatched socks. Homesickness hits Cloud so suddenly it takes both the wind and the fight out of him as Nyx pulls into a parking garage. 

“No way you’re actually driving instead of taking the bus. Holy shit is the sky falling?” A man with a thick caterpillar of a mustache smirks at Nyx. 

“The sky is just fine, I just got a passenger today,” Nyx opens his car door as he reaching for the handle, the mustache man blinks owlishly at Cloud. Feeling too much like a sideshow, cloud pulls up his backpack into his arms from his back to act as a flimsy excuse for a shield. He can handle being shot at but not being looked at. The whole thing is almost funny.

“Did you knock someone up?” He asks and Nyx makes a face that almost makes clouds crack a smile. He steps in front of Cloud and presses the up button on the elevator. 

“Fuck off, he’s a sponsoree,” Nyx ushers them both into the elevator and cloud can just see the look of utter disbelief on the man's face as the elevator doors close. 

Cloud felt his stomach sink further as he was let into Nyx’s apartment. Directly as Cloud walked in he saw a small kitchen along with a desk which had a cork board, and a small TV hung on the wall. A small hallway had three doors on it. The rest of the apartment was the same slate gray as his door and the only mark of personality was the books on the shelves and the photos on the cork board.
“Your room is the last room on the right,” Nyx says, opening the door revealing a room with a dresser, bed, window, and the same amount of personality as chocoboshit. Cloud entered his room and promptly shut the door and relished the first piece of privacy he's had since getting to this goddess damned shitty county. 

Chapter Text

Introduce Yourself, and Ask Them What They Would Like to be Called in Public

Most foster teenagers dislike being referred to as “foster children.” Ask your teenager what name they would like to be called. Do not push the kid to call you “mum” or “dad” so soon. Introduce yourself with a name to which they can refer you.

Nyx sat seriously at their kitchen table. Cloud was in a slumped pile of attitude. His shoulders were hunched and wouldn’t make eye contact. This was going to be pulling chocobo teeth. Nyx pulled out a phone and slid it across the table.

"You called these PHSs, this is a phone. They pretty much do the same job," Nyx flipped it open and flipped to contacts.

"It already has my number, Mrs. Sciencia's, and your caseworker Mr. Longen," Nyx walked Cloud through each of the functions of the phone, and then placed a simple black wallet. "This has your Lucian ID and your sponsorship card, and about 500 gil,"

Cloud looks at it all with the same amount of disinterest and suspicion he looked at Nyx with, but he still pocketed them anyway. Nyx took a big breath, let it fill his chest, and then let it exit his lungs slowly.

“I want to set some ground rules too. Don’t answer the door for anyone if I’m gone. You’re welcome to anything in the fridge that’s not labeled. Don’t go out past 11:00 pm, unless someone I know is with you. Don’t start fights you can’t finish,” Nyx finished giving the same rules he got as a teenager and Cloud turned to look at him and then rolled his eyes. Nyx bristled at it. 

This was a teenager, not one of your cadets. 

“Fine, Dad ,” The sarcasm was so thick that Nyx almost laughed. 

“Just Nyx is fine,” Nyx smirked as Cloud bristled harder. 

"Ok Cloud, we got off on the wrong foot, let's try this again. My name is Nyx Ulric, and I'm part of the Kingsglaive. I fought in the Niflheim War and the war of first contact. It's nice to meet you," Nyx said.

Cloud side eyes him from where he was inspecting the door intensely. It took a few moments of silence before he finally cracked.

"I'm Cloud. hello," Cloud says in an amazing display of compromise.

“Create a Space for Them: Have a room specifically designed to suit their taste. You can also ask the kid how you should decorate their room. Provide clean bedding, a bedside table, and a closet. If you do not know what the kid likes, leave the walls bare and tell them they can decorate with anything they want.”

Nyx stood waiting outside Cloud's room with some better bedding and a calendar. Nyx felt like he was grasping at straws here. What the hell did traumatized child soldiers like? He didn’t even know what untraumatized children liked.

Maybe he should call Cor… 

It felt so stupid to stand outside the kid’s room too nervous to come into a room in his own damn apartment, but that wasn’t respecting Cloud’s space which was what he was supposed to do right?

“Uh, Cloud, I got some better sheets and a calendar,” The sheets already there were as cheap as he could get, and Nyx understood the need for good sheets. Nyx knew he sounded out of his depth, which couldn’t be good. Cloud could probably smell fear. 

“C’mon Cloud, open the damn door,” Nyx kicked himself for losing his temper as the door of the room creaked open just enough Nyx could see half of the little blond’s face. His clear blue eyes were calm but exhausted. The small peak into his room revealed it was just as blank as it had been when Nyx had prepped it. Nothing on the walls or hung up or anything personal at all to show someone lived there. 

“Thanks,” his response was short and stiff which was fair Nyx supposed, that’s about how he would respond if he was trapped in another country. The dark circles were concerning.

Nyx saw as Cloud’s eyes hovered over the calendar made by “Weapons Monthly” for just long enough to be something close to interest. His hand stroked over the forest green sheets. 

Ok, noted. 

“If you want to go anywhere and get anything just let me know. I want you to have control over what your room looks like,” Cloud looked at Nyx like he had grown a second head, Nyx felt like he had.
That must have sounded right out of a parenting book. 

It was, but Nyx didn’t want it to sound like that.

“Dinner is in a few hours, you can eat in your room if you want,” Nyx takes a step back as Cloud nods unamused and shuts the door. 

He doesn’t show up for dinner.

Nyx leaves out a plate. 

Damn it. 

Two weeks later Nyx dragged Cloud to a home goods store which bustled with people coming and going in between ailes with shopping carts full of nicknacks they didn't need or sensible things they did. The fluorescent overhead illuminated the store in sterile white light. Cloud looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. That could have been because Nyx was with him.

"Just pick out what you want. Don't worry about price," Nyx's eyes stayed glued to Cloud as he wandered through the aisles. 

"I don't get why I have to be here. I told you I don't care," Cloud looked at a small statue of a coeurl, and put it back on the shelf. 

"You're stuck with me for a year, you should at least like your room since you spend so much time in it," Nyx snarked, which got him a nasty side eye. Cloud dumped in sheets and bedding at random as he repeatedly picked up odds and ends, looking at them, then putting them back. The chosen bedding was a deep green like pine needles, and the sheets were a cool gray. The only problem was that was the only thing Cloud put in the shopping cart. None of the nicknacks or wall hangings entered the cart, and everything was regarded with the same uninterested frown.

Except for one thing, a small wolf figurine. Cloud ran his thumb over its sculpted fur and posed head. Then, he put it back like the rest and carried on. Nyx grabbed it from the shelf and placed it in the basket when Cloud wandered ahead.

The home goods store had a small clothing section where plain but sensible clothes could be bought in bulk. Nyx threw in a package of boxers, socks, and lounge wear. He was looking at a sale for a winter coat as a bullet of panic hit his chest. Where was Cloud? The blond mass of spikes was nowhere to be seen. Did he just lose his kid within one week of actually having him? Six Damnit. Nyx let out a call for Cloud to no response. Nyx abandoned the cart as he dashed through iles even warping to cover more ground. He calls for Cloud again and again with no answer. Was he taken? No. Cloud had military training enough to cause a scene Nyx would notice.

"Excuse me? Can I help you?" A young person with a name pin that said 'Luna, they/them' on their shirt politely interrupted his frantic searching.

"No-  Yes-. I can't find my sponsoree. 15, blond hair like a chocobo, grumpy," Nyx looked around as he spoke, still trying to get a glimpse.

"Oh, him! He's at the help desk," Luna smiled politely in the way retail workers did.

What.

Nyx bolts to the help desk at the front of the store and just as it was told, there was Cloud and a toddler? He was playing a rhythm game with the kid sitting on the floor.

"One bo, two bo, three bos, four. How many many of these birds are cho-co-bos," Cloud sang as he clapped with the kid and then listed off different wild birds. Cloud said "Chocobo" and tried to grab the toddler's hand who quickly yanked them away with a flurry of giggles. Nyx had run with less urgency when being chased by MTs getting over to Cloud.

"Kid, you cannot just disappear like that!" Nyx maybe shook Cloud more than he meant to but the damage was done as Cloud snarled at Nyx.

"Fuuu-" Cloud looked at the small child,  "Frick off Nyx, I didn't even want to come here. You're not my CO, don't order me around,"

Nyx wanted to scream.

"Your CO is the last person I want to be Cloud, but you are my responsibility, I need to keep you safe," Nyx tried and failed.

"You want to keep me safe so you can try and fuel your hero and or guilt complex by saving a poor child soldier," Ouch, Nyx stands there blank-faced nursing his pride. Cloud's anger started to melt into something else.

"Where did you even get the toddler?" Nyx changed the topic to the little boy who had been watching their exchange with the same attention as a middle-aged woman with a soap drama.

"His name is Jacob, he lost his mom," Cloud motions to the small child.

"I'm six," Jacob held up six fingers.

"That's great bud," Nyx and Cloud say at the same time then snap to stare at each other. Suddenly, a woman charged in with the energy of a whirlwind and swooped up Jacob in a crushing hug.

"You cannot run off like that!" She scolded in between kisses. Finally realizing there were other people in the space her eyes looked at Nyx. 

"Thank you for finding my baby," Her gratitude came with a handshake enthusiastic enough to rattle his whole arm. What was this lady made of?

"It was Cloud who found him," Nyx got out as he stretched his shoulder out redirecting the lady’s enthusiasm. Her eyes widened and she dropped down to Cloud’s level. She gathered Cloud in a tight hug that the boy was not prepared for. His whole body stiffened to wood. Nyx shrugged at Cloud's silent plea for release from the misery of being touched.

"It's fine Ma'am," Cloud choked out around his awkwardness.

"Here's my card," She handed a business card to Nyx, "If you ever need a good high school for your son give me a call, and I'll put in a good word,"

The glossy lucian black business card with a gold script read "Acada Cramelli - Principal of West Insomnia Public High School,"

Damn, that was a pretty solid school. Nyx balked at the thought of Cloud in public school.

Wait-

"Ma'am he's no-"

"I'm not-"

Before either of them could finish, Mrs. Acada had already walked away in the same whirlwind of movement she had arrived in.

At the apartment, Cloud found a wolf figurine tucked inside the shopping bag. 

Avoid Asking a Million Questions Right Away

Do not scare off the teenager with a bunch of questions. Let them open up in their own time when they are most comfortable. This will build trust between the parents and the foster teenager.

Nyx regretted picking an apartment with only one shower. They danced around each other trying not to get in the other's way but painfully failing. This evening was particularly bad. All he wanted was a hot shower after work. He was technically  given parental leave so he could give his new sponsor time to settle in and adjust to the new living situation. That and the amount of overtime he clocked gave him plenty of time off. Nyx just couldn’t do it. He was bored out of his skull, and Cloud refused to leave his room anyway. Getting back to work was better than just twiddling his thumbs on his computer anyway. The bathroom was big with a spacious shower and double sinks for both him and Cloud, but the space didn’t matter when Cloud was using the shower. Nyx resigned himself to cooking dinner in sweaty clothes and smelly socks while waiting for the shower to be open. The onions had just begun to caramelize when the bathroom door opened and let out a puff of steam like a dragon. Cloud stepped out in sweat pants and a towel around his neck. 

Fuck.

Several small round scars dotted his torso, some of them surely fatal without the help of healing magic. Any glaive worth their salt had enough experience to know what bullet wounds looked like. Nyx pushed down the choking sense of horror at such scars being on a kid’s chest. That wasn’t the worst of it. A large slashing scar traced from his third right rib down to his hip and below his waistline. It was torn instead of a quick slice. The wind rushed out of Nyx. It couldn’t be a glaive weapon. The world quickly zoomed back into focus when Cloud shuffled quietly around the kitchen flitting through cabinets.

“Any hot water left?” Nyx asks instead of the 1,000 other questions he had.

“Yeah,” was Cloud’s quick short answer, and the upward tilt of surprise in Cloud’s voice wasn’t lost on Nyx, nor was the slight sigh of relief. 

Cloud would talk about his scars when he was good and ready, just like Nyx would.

Nyx focused back to the onions sizzling away on his good pan. A hearty and well seasoned cast iron skillet from Gahlahd. 

The steamed buns full of meat and onions and carrots and herbs filled the room with aromatic spices. A side of rice was paired with the buns making a pale plate; white buns with white rice. 

Nyx set out the plate for Cloud to grab and slither back to his room as he always did, and was surprised when Cloud actually sat down with him. 

Don’t make a big deal about this. It's just another meal. Do not make a scene about this.

“How was your day?” Nyx tried for small talk. Small talk was safe and easy. 

“Good,” Cloud shrugged into his meal. Was this normal? Were all teenages this quiet or was it just his- was it just Cloud?

“We’re starting to get communication open between His Majesty and Shinra. Just talking,” Nyx scooped the rice into the bun and pushed it into his mouth. 

“What does that mean?” Cloud copied him with the rice. 

“Just means that Shinra and His majesty can talk-”
“No I mean for me as a prisoner of war,” Cloud’s tone turned icy. Fuck.

One step forward, one step back. 

“I don’t know yet. We don’t know what Shinra wants yet,” Nyx wasn’t going to give him false hope. Nyx really didn’t know what was going to happen. 

Cloud lets out a huff, shoves his chair back, and storms into his room. 

Damn it. 

Nyx stood at attention as Regis Lucis Caleam and Clarus Amicita tended to the late Queen’s garden. Regis never liked having a lot of security in this sacred place; it took Cor, Clarus, and even Noctis to push him to at least have one glaive in addition to his Shield. Regis tends to one of the various bed’s of flowers with Clarus’ hand fondly on his shoulder also inspecting the blossoms.

“What troubles you Glaive Ulric,” Regis’ voice is a soft tenor as when he speaks. Nyx almost startles at being addressed directly. Did he look like something was wrong? Glaives were meant to fade into the upholstery; not seen nor heard unless necessary. 

“Nothing, your Majesty,” Nyx responds with military stiffness. To Nyx’s horror His Majesty stands from where he was kneeling in the dirt to address him with a skeptical raised eyebrow. In one motion Nyx felt obligated to spill out every anxiety and issue he’s had ever. 

“I’ve decided to sponsor one of the Shinra Kids,” His Majesty makes a silent question with his expression.

“One of the child soldiers from Shinra, he’s 15,” Nyx explains, “I don’t think he’s adjusting well,”
“What makes you say that?” His Majesty gathered his cane and stood next to him, he wore age well. 

“He’s moody and every time I feel like I’ve made any ground toward something civil I some how fuck it up- apologies for my language your majesty,” Nyx stands a little straighter. His Majesty has an amused smile and leans over to Clarus.

“It’s like somehow they’ve all forgotten I was 25 and didn’t come fully formed with gray hair. Don’t worry about your language Glaive Ulric, continue please” His Majesty waves his hand in the air as if to waft away the mistake. 

“He’s sarcastic all the time. Scoffs at any attempt to actually connect with him,  and never leaves his room except for meals. I’m worried he’s not eating enough and-” His Majesty raises his hand for a pause in the verbal vomit.
His Majesty chuckles, and so does Shield Clarus. 

“I’ve never known a more stressed demographic of people than first time parents,” Shield Clarus says.

“Do you remember what we were like when Noctis and Gladio were that age,” His Majesty hummed fondly at Shield Clarus who chuckled just as fondly back.

Wait-

What?

No. No. 

“With all due respect Your Majesty, I’m not his father,” Nyx says. Shield Clarus and His Majesty exchanged a silent conversation that Nyx couldn’t decipher. His Majesty puts a firm hand on Nyx’s shoulder. The magic of the Crystal that connected them thrummed stronger even through clothing.

“Nyx, you’re doing fine,” Nyx’s throat swelled until he could barely breathe. His eyes burned and Nyx fought against the telling signs of tears. He’d been so worried about how he was doing with Cloud. Every website said something different, and every book said how he was doing something wrong. Nothing worked and no one would tell him how to actually understand this- understand teenagers at all.

“How do you know?” Despite his best efforts the roughness of tears got through. 

“Because you wouldn’t care this much if you weren’t,” Regis smiled knowingly.

“Do you want to go out?” Cloud squinted in his room’s doorway. Tension had been high since That One Dinner, and it was choking Nyx. This was his last idea. 

“My friends want Galahdian skewers, and I wanted to know if you want to come with,” It was the last olive branch he could offer. Plus, Cloud hadn’t been out of the apartment in the month he’d been living with Nyx. Food and the promise of the outside world was his best idea to lure Cloud out and show him that Insomnia wasn’t all the cage he thought it was.

“You have friends?” Cloud snarked so quickly it had to be a gut reaction. He respected the quick burn.

“What makes them Galahdian?” Cloud asks with a healthy dose of skepticism. It was clear from day one that Cloud trusted nothing right away. Trust was earned with blood, sweat, and repeated effort. 

“Native Insomians think it’s terrible- they’re wrong-  and the stupid amount of spiced hog blood it's cooked in,” Nyx offered. Cloud raised his eyebrows in surprise, and Nyx tried to keep his disappointment in check. Was that too much information? Maybe blood was taboo for cooking in the continents. Was this whole thing already fucked?

“When are you leaving?” Cloud asked, to Nyx's own surprise. It was pointless trying to stop the hopeful jolt of emotion. 

When Cloud agreed to go out to escape the gray walls of the apartment, he didn’t expect an open air bar. They walked to the place at a pace that was slow enough to allow Cloud to take in the neighborhood. Insomnia really was beautiful, even if Cloud thought of it as the source of all his problems. It was a gilded cage. People walked around with children and partners; they stopped in front of store fronts to window shop and buy food from vendors. This section of Insomnia was also built up as well as out. People hung off the railings of balconies, jumped from one level of buildings to another, and if you were a skilled climber Cloud was sure you could scale right up to the roof of the tallest buildings. Could he ?

“OI NYX,” A call broke Clouds stooper and contemplation of poor decisions. A woman with brown eyes bordering on red waved at them. She had on all black with various silver jewelry. She waved at them with her whole body excitedly. Another larger man also waved. Nyx’s face broke into a smile and he waved back.

Nyx smiled?

They scaled one of the many different staircases to an open air grill/bar. A plate of hunks of meat skewed on wooden spikes already sat on the table. 

“Well well well, look at what the cat dragged in, who’s the pipsqueak?” The woman hooked an arm around Nyx’s shoulder, then looked at Cloud. 

“Who’s the bitch?” It flew out of his mouth before Cloud could even think about thinking about his words.  It wasn’t on purpose. Calling him short had always been this off switch for his filter, and a trigger for the snarling thing inside him that had formed from years of bullying. Cloud didn’t like being mean, it just happened. 

A heavy silence laid over them like a thick blanket of snow, freezing over the warm atmosphere between the reuniting friends. The woman smiled sharply.

“HA! You’re feisty, I think we’re going to get along fine kid, Crowe Altius,” Crowe held out her hand for him to shake. Cloud stared at it like a dead fish. 

“Do they not shake hands in the continents?” Crowe asked and put Nyx in a headlock when he started to talk. 

“We do. I’m Cloud, Cloud Strife,” Cloud shook her hand with a new conviction, but it didn't last for long because Nyx with a twist of his body threw Crowe to the ground and broke the hold. The large man laughs at Crowe on the ground. Crowe lunges at Nyx again.

“I’m Libertus Ostium,”  He introduces himself with another held out hand, which Cloud took. The whole bar cheers as Nyx and Crowe fight- wrestle?- on the ground. It was strange to watch the stiff, awkward man fight like a baby dragon learning their claws on the floor. The fight was a mix of actual skill and blind grabbing. The bartender loudly shouts for them to break it up or he’ll throw them out again.

Again?

Nyx and Crowe untangled themselves from a ball of fists and kicking and all but fell into two chairs at the table. Nyx’s hair was a mess pointing in all different directions. 

“Now that the children are done fighting, it's nice to meet you Cloud,” Libertus was warm and a little rough around the edges in a way that made Cloud's spine relax a little. 

“I’m older than you shithead,” Nyx flicked the beads that hung from Libertus’ rooster crest. A blue, green then purple bead hung from his hair near the back. Now that Cloud saw it, Nyx and Crowe also had some. Nyx’s was blue, purple then black, and Crowes was red, purple, and orange. Cloud must have been staring because Nyx spoke up.

“Hunting beads. You get them when you turn 16, a sign of maturity,” Nyx showed the three beads in his hair. 

“Galahd is outside Insomnia right?” Cloud felt sheepish for some reason.  He was taught Lucian  geography in the camp, but that didn’t mean anything actually stuck. 

“Mhmm, they won’t let us forget it,” Crowe’s voice took a bitter edge. 

“Hey, don’t be like that, we’re here to have fun. Eat! You too, Cloud,” Libertus shoved a skewer at him that he didn’t feel ready to eat yet. The other three had no problem and launched into stories of their home, warm yules in massive lodges and raging summers spent around the cool lake while they ate hunks of meat and drank light beer. The early evening turned to late night with stars hanging overhead and string lights illuminating the bar. People came and went from the table, and greeted Nyx warmly and Cloud with either a look of shock or suspicion. 

 People broke into song when a lively fiddle stuck up a melody. The singing was messy and drunk and closer to shouting sometimes, but there was precious history in the music. Its lyrics were well-worn and popular enough that almost everyone sang the chorus. Cloud stared down at the hunks of red meat in front of him long cold. In one swift motion, it’s stuffed into his cheek. Savory flavors bursted on his tongue, its tender flesh was easily torn. Cloud sat overwhelmed with rich tastes and notes of sweet spices; white pepper and parsley, garlic and pink salt. 

It tasted like tender dragon meat roasted in a metal box rotated over a fire for three days.

 It tasted like gatherings in the great hall to divide up the meat and drank with full bodied and bitter wines that he was allowed to have a little of if it was watered down. 

It tasted like a home an ocean away.  

Emotion came up and out of him as tears without his permission. Tears fell down his face one after another as he put another piece of the rare meat into his mouth. He tried to shove away the tears from his cheeks but more preplaced them.

"Cloud, kid, are you ok?" Nyx placed a heavy grounding hand onto Cloud’s shoulder and looked concerned.

"I'm fine. I'm fine, it's really good," Cloud said with the gulps of air in between wet hiccups and chewing. Libertus took pity and placed a glass of water in front of him, which Cloud drank greedily. Cloud’s chair rattled from the momentum as he shook his head like a dog to try and dislodge the homesickness. Through slightly blurry eyes he watched the impromptu party carried on around him with Nyx sat firmly by his side blessedly unquestioning. In an act of mercy that would be remembered, Nyx shooed off anyone expressing concern over Cloud's weepy state. The commotion settled down the later it got till all that was left were those too drunk to stay awake or those sober enough to drag them home. Rowdy music softened to something melancholy and sweet. The lyrics longed for a home that only existed in the singer's memory. It called to rivers and lakes and wide open fields, and sent an apology to the ones behind them. A few left awake crooned with it. 

Nyx didn't sing well or loudly, but he sang. His voice was a deep rumble, the kind that gentle giants had.

When the moon hung high overhead, Nyx went off to collect Crowe which meant Cloud was alone with Libertus. 

"I know it doesn't always seem like it, but he's trying his best with you," Libertus nodded his head to where Nyx sat with Crowe who leaned on his shoulder. Cloud swallowed.

"It's hard," Cloud didn't know how to explain that it really wasn't Nyx. it was just- everything. It was being too small and too weak and his mom being the town outcast.  It was war and culture shock and being so far from a home that would hate him even if he returned, except for Zack.

It was Zack not being here. It was maybe never seeing Zack again.

It was so much more than words could hope to explain. He wouldn’t even know which ones to choose if they did.

Libertus heaved out a sigh that took his whole body and nodded.

"We understand more than you know. Give Nyx a chance, I've known him since diapers and I know he really only wants to give you a chance at life on the outside," Libertus looked him head on.

Maybe Cloud has been a bit of an ass.

Maybe he can try too.

Chapter Text

Sephiroth didn’t know what to do with himself, there was a ceremony he had to participate in later today, so any of his regular duties were placed on halt. He had not had his General responsibilities in several months, no one to report to or paperwork to fill out, or battle plans to create. The sparse responsibilities given to him since his defection to Lucic were also not available to fill his mind. It was just him and this big citadel. Right now it was just him and his bedroom. His bedroom was grand in the same way his apartment in Shinra Tower was; with large dark blue curtains and dark black and gold marbled floors. A large book case that held 4 books sat next to his dresser. Grand and beautiful with nothing showing Sephiroth actually lived there. 

Any personal items had been left in Shinra’s hands.

This really was not what he was expecting when he had broken into the throne room and demanded peace talks. Sephiroth’s gaze flicks to his Lucian ID card.

“Sephiroth Lucis Caleam”
It was strange to see a last name tacked onto his own, for so long his name had been singular. He had been singular, none other on his level of skill or superiority. No one would be worthy of him other than himself, so why would he need a family name? People had families, not weapons. At least that is how the Professor put it. 

The memories tasted bitter, so Sephiroth put it out of his mind. New beginnings today.

Today, he received his very own shield. 

9am - Breakfast

Food had been a non issue for him until he’d moved to Lucis. Quite a great deal of things had been non-issues before Lucis, actually. Lucis loved complicating things.

Food while in Shinra had been a bland and tasteless affair compared to the rich, bursting flavors of the Lucian cuisine. A variety of cooked meat and jam-covered pastries had already set the table when Sephiroth had arrived in his black satin dress shirt and charcoal gray slacks. Regis, Noctis, and the Amicita family were already in attendance. Noctis was a passive entity slowly nibbling at a roll spread with sweet honey butter in his place next to Regis. He almost rested his head against the table as his eyes dropped dangerously low. Sephiroth silently slid into his place on the other side of Regis and next to Iris Amicitia. Next to her was her father Clarus and then her brother Gladiolus. The Amicitia family had been the largest skeptic of Sephiroth’s adoption besides Sephiroth himself, but their ire had softened as the months had passed, thanks to Iris in particular. She had warmed up to him quickly. The girl had begun to pile his plate with warm bacon and mandarin scones. Sephiroth ignored the voice of outrage from the professor that still lived in his head at the idea of sugar and grease. The bacon was rich and powerful on his tongue and the scones soft and sweet. The flavors danced on his palate. Each bite was savored carefully and fully before swallowing.  

“Some of the guys over at Insomnia University think the reason Continent food is so bland is because of the mako use. Something about stripping the farm's land. They did this big study with the soil over there compared to our dirt,” Iris chattered on as she ate her own breakfast. Her arms sported several bruises that had to come from her training with Gladiolus. 

“Do you wish for me to heal those,” Sephiroth offered. His tone was in the slow, gentle voice he hoped made him less intimidating. Movement at the table stilled. Materia was still a semi touchy subject, except for summons. Those were already declared blasphemy by some religious denominations. 

“Nah, I’m wearing long sleeves today so it’s okay,” Iris smiled at him. The girl of 16 was quickly becoming a force of nature on the battlefield thanks to expert training. Regis stood up, grabbing his cane. He gave a polite bow to the table, before announcing his need to leave and take care of some last-minute preparations. Noctis waves his father off. Their father? Regis was so different from his idea of a father, which was Hojo. Who was no father at all. 

Breakfast was always a quiet deal, the last moment of peace before a flurry of people and tasks and responsibilities. They all ate in a familiar silence before Clarus gave Gladio a firm pant on the shoulder before taking leave of the table as well. The moment the large oak dining room door closed the three left descended upon Sephiroth like wild animals. They hauled him out of the sensible chair and through the citadel. They took twisting turns and hidden passages built in the case of siege or sneaking young adults till they piled into the recreation room that belonged to Noctis. 

“Pardon?” Sephiroth was immune from being dizzy, but the sight of a roomful of glaives and staff as music blasted was enough that he could imagine the sensation. 

“This is the real party before the stuffy ball,” Noctis smirks now very awake. Prompto Argentum and Ignis Sciencia descended on Noctis and Gladio in a flurry of affection that made Sephiroth turn away. 

“It's 9:40 in the morning,” Sephiroth stated. Iris smiles at him and pats his arm in a ‘oh you sweet spring bunny’ motion. 

3pm- Fitting

“You may go back to the party Iris,” Sepiroth stood on a platform as a tailor took his measurements. This at least was familiar, tailors had been brought to him to make custom clothes his whole life. Didn’t mean he had to enjoy it.

“Nah, I’d rather be here with you,” Iris flicked through her phone from her seat to the side. The hair that had hung around the bottom of her ears when they had first met now hung just above her shoulders. 

“What is the purpose of this? Was the official garb not made weeks ago?” Sephiroth didn’t flinch as he felt a pin prick the delicate skin of his underarm.

“It's tradition for at least one part of your official uniform to be made the day of,” Iris didn’t look from her phone as she spoke. 

“That feels like undue stress on the tailor,” Sephiroth allowed himself to be manhandled into another direction. 

“Nah, It's a big deal to make any part of a royal uniform for any tailor, and they get a stupid amount of money if it’s done in time,” Iris explained while taking a selfie and sending it to someone. 

Once the measurements were done the tailor left and a horde of maids came rushing in. They moved with a terrifying efficiency that would have impressed even the strictest commander. This is what the racing car must feel like when its tires are changed out by a pit crew. They spoke rapidly in Lucian with an unfamiliar accent. Maybe somewhere in Leide? 

Sephiroth was changed from his morning clothes into his formal wear for the ceremony. It was a challenge to snap at them or yank away from prying hands. It was all so much. He didn’t like touching, touching was reserved for Angeal, and Genesis, and Zack. No one touched him without permission in Shinra. ~~Except the Professor, he didn’t have a choice then~~. Each touch lit up his skin in a tingly warmth, that wasn’t pleasant, but he agreed to do this. The final garb was remarkably similar to Regis’ formal wear, the only thing that was missing was the shoulder cape and the branching crown that marked the members of royalty. 

Which Sephiroth technically was now. 

6pm - Royal Ball

Elegant ladies and lords swayed and twirled to the classical music from the orchestra that filled the large ballroom. Sephiroth stood at the front of the room with the royal family and their personal retainers and Shields. Being royalty was similar enough to being general of SOLDIER, and also frighteningly different. He was given the same respect and status, but people saw him as an independent agent, for better or worse, rather than an extension of Shinra. He was a person to these people. Iris stood next to him with a perfectly polite smile, one practiced and able to sustain being used for several hours. Occasionally a high profile would come and bow to them with a respectful greeting and wish for good health.
Sephiroth didn’t think he’d ever get used to people bowing to him. 

7pm - Shield Ceremony 

All the media and reporters and basically anyone who wasn’t close to the royal family were ushered away. Iris would be granted the power of the crystal, and how that power was shared was the single biggest state secret that Lucis had. No video or electronic devices were allowed in the temple of Etro where the ceremony would take place. Sephiroth had changed from his formal wear into sweeping black robes held together with a pendant the size of his hand at his shoulder. Sephiroth felt paranoid without pants, but at least he wasn’t the only one. Noctis and Regis stood on either side of him in the same pantless robes. Each of their shields stood in front of them in a mix of formal and metal armor. He had never known how much one could miss pants until he was without them. One priest from a temple dedicated to each of the Six Astrals stood at the edges of the room making offerings of wine and blood and muttering prayers. A large basin of water was placed on the altar in front of Sephiroth. He pushed down the anxiety that rose in his throat. He had no idea what he was supposed to do here. Even talking about this ceremony was illegal, so no one had actually told him what was going on. 

The priest of Bahamut stepped forward with an ornate jeweled dagger. Sephiroth tensed. Its blade was curved and sharpened to a glint. 

Noctis stepped forward. The Amicita dropped to one knee, head in a deep bow. Sephiroth felt his skin crawl. He was used to shows of authority, but this was too far. It reminded him too much of the days of being a product to idolize. 

“Since you’re not biologically part of the Line of Lucis, Iris and you will draw from my connection to the Crystal,” Noctis explained and held his arm over the bowl of water. The priest clad in black approached with the dagger. Every muscle in Sephiroth’s body tightened to snapping. This wasn’t a battlefield. There was no enemy here. Sephiroth runs through the ways he could kill the priest with just his bare hands to try to push down the panic of being approached with a weapon. The priest places the blade to the skin of Noctis’ forearm, and Sephiroth’s arm strikes out to grip the priest's wrist in a crushing grip. The priest whimpered in pain, and some dark part of his brain wanted to crush the wrist in his grip. It would be easy, and he would protect his new kin. He would be good. Sephiroth’s breathing came out fast and sharp. No one moved an inch. Regis walked onto Sephiroth’s line of sight slowly and movement clearly telegraphed. 

“Sephiroth, He’s not going to hurt Noctis,” Regis spoke as one would to a spooked Chocobo as if he was just a sacred bird and didn’t have the grip strength to crush metal. Sephiroth’s eyes never left the grip he had on the priest, who looked with panic at Regis.

“Gladio would never allow Noctis to be wounded, right?” That was sound logic. It made sense. Sephiroth slowly let go of the priest’s wrist, there was an imprint of a hand on it. No doubt it will turn an ugly purple in the coming hours. The priest winced at the slightest movement of the damaged wrist. Regis gently took the dagger from his and nodded in a signal to return to his place. Sephiroth felt the shame creep onto his face at his involuntary action. He was uncomfortably warm.

“Your intent was good,” Regis whispered to him. It did nothing to stop the impending embarrassment. Regis slid the knife over Noctis' forearm, and beads of blood dropped into the bowl of water. They created jellyfish-like domes in the water as they swirled, becoming part of the water. Two, three, four, five dropped into the bowl. Sephiroth smelled the coppery scent of blood in the water like a shark. Regis dipped a smaller, shallow crystal bowl with elegant patterns etched into the sides. Was he going to? No, it couldn’t be. 

“To add someone to your own connection to the magic of the Crystal, a part of the Lucian royal must be added to yourself. Drink the blood of the Lucii, Sephiroth, and know the Light of the Crystal,”  Regis lifted the dish to Sephiroth’s lips. 

He tried not to think about blood-borne illnesses as the water slid down his throat. The water only had a slight coppery taste that wouldn’t have registered to anyone without a Soldier level sense of taste. It started in his chest, then spread to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

An endless peace, a righteous light, a holy judgment. 

Then Pain. 

A crawling burn that started with his skin. His skin was on fire and there was a grip on his lungs like a fist crushing fruit. It would mutilate and break the tender organs in his chest. His ribs would be cracked open and the soft internal organs would burn. His eyes watered with unshed tears. Everything was too bright. The light burned. It broke his bone and charred the marrow. 

“Wha-”
“I don’t-”
“Oka-” 

Voices, voices, voices. They said nothing. Sephiroth couldn’t understand them through the pain. There was nothing but the fire burning him dead from the inside out. Several glowing figures stood around him in armor and faceless as justice. 

Then there was soft light. Not the harsh one that had scorched his skin and blackened his sinew, but gentle as spring rain. 

“Hello,”

Who is there?

“You must let go,”

Let go of what?

“What that man did you to you, [static]”

Who is [static]

“You, who you were supposed to be,”

Oh

“You need to let go of Mother,”

Mother?

“The beast from the stars,”

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

“Let go,”

Of what!

“Let go,”

fine  

Sephiroth sat up, gasping for breath. He couldn’t get the precious oxygen into his lungs fast enough. Small drops of water dripped onto his hand. What? Sephiroth looked to his left where Iris was clutching his hand sobbing. Tears streamed down her face. In fact, all the Amicitia

and the Caelum family were surrounding him. 

“Are you alright, Iris,” Sephiroth’s voice was raspy.  Iris stared at him like she couldn’t believe what he had just said. 

“Your heart stopped, and you’re asking me if *I’m* ok?” Iris screamed at him. 

Sephiroth blinked at her a few times as if she was the one being hysterical. 

“You were dead for almost three minutes, Seph,” She whispered and looked up at him through lashes wet with tears. 

Oh.

Sephiroth caught his reflection in the gleaming marble of the floor. Instead of his usual neon green eye color, it was closer to a deep emerald like most other soldiers. 

Oh.

10pm - bed

Sephiroth felt like a deflated balloon, limp and stretched out. The royal doctors released him to his own room after a thorough checkup that he white knucked through. The doctor was kind and her voice melodic, but Sephiroth could never get past the smell of disinfectant. Too many memories tied to that smell and tied far too strongly to be undone.  They had deemed nothing was wrong with him as far as they could understand. There was no explanation for the color change. Mako was still a mystery to them, and Sephiroth’s medical records, any of his records plain and simple, where still with Shinra. Almost everything of his was still at Shinra. 

Sephiroth sighed. 

He would never be free of them. They would always have something to hold over his head, dangling his life and safety in front of him in exchange for shed blood. He wasn’t a person, he would always be a tool from them to wage war. 

If he tried to get his life back he would kill countless fighting Shinra.

If he didn’t Shinra would forever hold his past hostage. 

Either way, Sephiroth lost. 

A knock at the door interrupted his sulking.

“It’s me,” Iris called from the other side. Sephiroth smelled her shampoo and heard her footsteps as she approached. 

“Enter,” Sephiroth called then winced at how mechanical his voice sounded to his ears. Iris wore a band t-shirt with athletic shorts all tied together with fluffy rabbit slippers. She looked small with a hunched posture and nervous hands—a far cry from the confident young woman who had entered the temple earlier that evening. Sephiroth sat up from where he laid onto of his blanket and sheets. She slowly approached his bed, one careful step at a time, till she sat on the edge next to him. The black bedcovers wrinkled. She didn’t speak, choosing to fiddle with her painted nails instead.

“What is your purpose here, Iris,” Maybe his voice was too sharp or his words too direct, but Sephiroth’s stomach rotted when Iris flinched. It was a quick motion and gone as quickly as it came. It still hurt. 

“I wanted to give you this,” Iris grasped his hand and slid on a woven thread bracelet. She curled into a ball and pressed into his side once it was on. The bracelet was new, that was clear from its pristine condition. It was made with green, silver, black, and purple embroiderly thread in a chevron design, and big enough to slide on his wrist but not so loose to fall off.  Sephiroth’s heart did something funny. 

“You don’t have to wear it,” In a voice so small Iris whispered. A sting of panic hit hard.

“No! No, I like it,” and he did. No one had given him something handmade like this before.  It was soft, served no combat purpose, and sentimental. He loved it.

“I’ll protect you, I promise,” She slid her hand into his own. A similar bracelet was on her wrist, but the green was replaced with gold. Sephiroth didn’t think it wise to mention that he was literally built to be as hard to kill as possible. The sentiment was appreciated all the same. 

“G’night Seph,” she let go of his hand and he missed the warmth. 

“Good night Iris,” Sephiroth nodded as she slipped from his bed and out the door. For someone who could break bone with one kick, she could be so quiet. 

Sephiroth looked at the bracelet on his wrist and smiled.