Final Fantasy XIII 1. Chapter 1

**Lady Lightning**

Serah Farron was late, really, really late.

Eden City University might be the most prestigious university in the country, but whoever was responsible for its timetable was an evil, evil person. Honestly, what kind of monster scheduled Mathematics 1901 at 8 o'clock in the morning?

And if running late for her early morning class wasn't bad enough, it had also started to rain and she'd forgotten to bring her umbrella. She sighed. If only her sister Claire hadn't been scheduled for an early morning shift with the Guardian Corps, she might have been able to get a ride to university.

A frown crossed her face. Her sister had transferred from Bodhum's Guardian Corps to the Guardian Corps in Eden City so that they could stay together while Serah was at university. However, as the newbie, her sister had been stuck working the worst shifts. It was selfish, but sometimes, Serah just wished that her sister would quit the Guardian Corps. The pay might be good, but the hours were long and the work was dangerous. Serah wouldn't mind if maybe they had a little less money if it meant that she could spend more time with her sister and less time worrying about her.

The train pulled to a stop and Serah winced as everyone started to push and shove toward the exit of the station. She'd been in Eden City for a month now, and she still couldn't get used to how pushy everyone was. Back in Bodhum, people had been much more laidback. Here, everyone seemed to be in a hurry.

After a great deal of pushing and shoving, she finally managed to get out of the station and she headed for the bus stop. Along the way, she caught sight of a newspaper stand. The headline brought a smile to her lips: Lady Lightning Saves the Day Again! She was a big fan of superheros, and Lady Lightning was her favourite one. She'd been a little disappointed to move away from Bodhum – Lady Lightning seemed to spend a lot of time there – but luckily for her, Lady Lightning seemed to have moved to Eden City as well.

Serah was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't notice the person running along the sidewalk until they bumped right into her. The force of the collision knocked her toward the road and she let out a cry as she slipped over a big puddle and fell onto the road – right into the path of an oncoming bus.

"Watch out!" someone yelled.

But it was too late. Serah could only stare as the bus loomed over her, as big as a mountain, and just as heavy. She swallowed thickly and closed her eyes. There was no way that she'd survive this. She was going to get run over by a bus and it would probably be all over the news and her sister would be all alone and –

BOOM.

Crunch.

There was the crack of thunder and then the crunch of crumpled metal and when several seconds ticked past and she wasn't dead, Serah finally worked up the courage to open her eyes. The reason she wasn't dead was immediately, and wonderful, obvious. A long red cape swirled through the air in front of her.

Lady Lightning.

The superhero stood in front of Serah, one hand still imbedded in the front of the bus. Her uniform was exactly like everyone said: red cape, light grey skirt that went down to just above the knee, and a long-sleeved white shirt with a red lightning bolt across the front. And then there were the boots. Serah really, really wished she had the legs to pull off white boots like that. On anyone else they would have looked lame, but on Lady Lighting they looked spectacular. After all, Lady Lightning had legs that went on for miles.

Serah's eyes widened. She'd just been saved by a superhero, and not just any superhero… she'd been saved by Lady Lightning, arguably the most famous superhero in Cocoon. Dear Maker, she was going to faint…

"Are you all right?" Lady Lightning's voice was soft, but oddly familiar as she extended one hand toward Serah.

Serah nodded dumbly and let Lady Lightning pull her back onto her feet. For someone strong enough to stop a bus in its tracks, Lady Lightning was very gentle. Maker, she was touching Lady Lightning, actually touching her! The superhero's hair was a pretty pink just like everyone said, and her eyes were the most wonderful blue. She stared more closely at Lady Lightning and then blinked. It was strange, but the harder she looked, the harder it was for her to get a good look at the superhero's face even though they were standing right next to each other.

"Uh…" Serah gawped as the rain continued to fall. "Um…"

Lady Lightning's lips curved upward just a fraction before she turned away from Serah to scowl at the bus driver. "Be more careful." Then she turned back to Serah. "Are you okay?"

"Uh…" Serah knew that people were staring and that she was getting wet and that she probably looked and sounded like an idiot, but what were you supposed to say to a superhero? This wasn't something she'd ever had to do before!

A small smile crossed Lady Lightning's lips, and Serah blinked. There was something very familiar about that expression, but she couldn't quite place it. "You're going to Eden City University aren't you?"

Serah's eyes widened. "How did you know?" she blurted.

Lady Lightning pointed at the Eden City University logo on Serah's satchel.

Serah flushed. "Oh… uh… yeah… I… uh… yes."

"Are you running late?" Lady Lightning asked. "You looked like you were in quite a hurry."

"I might be just a little late." It felt a little embarrassing to be telling a superhero that she was running late for class. They were probably used to dealing with bigger problems, like preserving world peace and that sort of thing.

Lady Lightning's eyes twinkled. "Then would you like a lift?"

"A lift?" Serah stared. "What do you mean a lift?"

"Exactly what I said." Lady Lightning extended one hand. "I'm faster than any bus in the city. Take my hand."

What else could Serah do? She took Lady Lightning's hand.

And then she screamed.

"Relax." Lady Lightning's voice was cool and gentle in her ear and Serah's eyes widened as they rose into the air. Despite how high they already were – and they were very high up – she felt completely safe with Lady Lightning's arms around her. "Now, hold on."

There was a boom of thunder and they streaked through the air. Serah screamed again, half in fear and half in delight, as the fifteen minute bus trip to the university passed by in seconds.

"My class is over there!" Serah shouted, pointing to one of the university's buildings. "If you could… uh… maybe land that would be good."

Lady Lightning nodded and then angled down toward the front of the building. People immediately stopped and stared and Serah blushed as many of them pulled out phones to try and take a picture. She would have to ask one of them for a copy later, although pictures of Lady Lightning never came out right. It was probably one of her powers, since people never seemed to be able to recognise her or get a good picture.

"Here we are," Lady Lightning said as she finally let go of Serah. It was barely raining now. "Have a good day, Serah."

Serah stumbled for a moment. It was funny, but after only a few seconds of flying, she seemed to have forgotten how to walk. "Thank you, I –" Her eyes widened as she realised something. "Wait… how did you know my name?"

Something almost like panic flashed through the superhero's eyes and she took a few quick steps back. "You must have told me earlier. Well, I'd better get going, I wouldn't want you to be late."

And then Lady Lightning rose back up into the air and vanished in a blur of movement and a clap of thunder.

Serah watched the sky for a few moments and then stumbled toward the entrance of the building as people rushed over to talk to her. Never mind the rain, or being late, or almost being hit by a bus, this was the best morning ever.

X X X

High over Eden City, Lady Lightning – better known as Claire Farron – stifled the urge to fly down and bang her head on a building. Not only would she probably rip a hole in the building, it wouldn't do anything to help her at all. She had been warned that Serah's close relationship to her might allow Serah to break through the glamour that she used to hide her identity. However, it wasn't like she could just stand by and watch her sister get hit by a bus. She scowled, hopefully Serah wouldn't put two and two together otherwise there would definitely be trouble. She might be a superhero, but her little sister was like a force of nature when she set her mind to something, and Claire had never been able to say no to her.

With a sigh, she slowed her pace a little and cut upward through the clouds. Up here at least, she didn't have to worry about people staring, and she had plenty of time to herself to think. Her next shift with the Guardian Corps was due to start in two hours, so she should probably go home and change. But first…

Eyes closed, she tilted her head to one side and let her senses shift until the roar of the wind faded. In its place there was only static until she finally caught onto the radio signal used by the police. A frown crossed her lips as she followed several frantic snatches of conversation. Great, someone had decided to rob a back along the outskirts of the city and the Guardian Corps were still at least fifteen minutes away.

She opened her eyes. Time to get back to work.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

Okay… I have no idea where this came from. Wait, actually, I do. This was the result of tossing around ideas for Whispers of the Gods, an original story (Whispers of the Gods is actually sort of a cross over with this particular original story and Final Fantasy), and watching Iron Man, Iron Man 2, and True Lies. Yeah, that doesn't make a lot of sense.

Anyway, I thought to myself, wouldn't it be cool if Final Fantasy people were superheroes? Well, I think it would be, so I decided to just take a stab at it. I don't know if I'll continue this (let me know if you want me to), but I do have a few ideas tumbling around in my head about how to cast the other Final Fantasy characters, not just from XIII but from the other games as well.

For those of you who are wondering, Lady Lightning is an amalgamation of several superheroes, the most obvious of which is probably Captain Marvel. As to what her origins are, well, that's a story for another time.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second Chances**

Claire Farron stared at the two graves in front of her. It was strange how two slabs of stone with just a few words on them could make her feel so damn much. Slowly, she knelt and placed a bouquet of flowers before each one. The graves were simple and the words on them little more than names and dates. She'd wanted better for them – they'd deserved better – but simple had been all she could afford.

Her hands clenched and she had to force them open so that she could run her fingers over the letters carved into the stone. Would her mother and father be proud of what she was doing? She wasn't sure. Neither of them would have wanted her to quit school and join the Guardian Corps, but the Guardian Corps had been the only ones willing to hire her, and without a job she wouldn't have been able to keep Serah.

Serah.

Her sister was the only family that she had left and that meant that she was the only thing that mattered. As long as she and Serah were together, then everything would be all right. All of the blood, all of the tears, all the days she'd come home sick to her very soul – all of it would be worth it, if they could just stay together.

But she wasn't stupid. She could feel the divide opening up between them. It was her own fault really. She'd sheltered her sister as best she could, never revealing how close they'd been to losing their house, their things, even each other. Serah couldn't understand why she needed to work long, miserable hours, why she had to learn how to use a gun, and why she needed to learn how to hurt and even kill just to make a living.

The Guardian Corps had an ugly side, a side they never put in any of the brochures or showed in any of the recruitment commercials. Claire hadn't known about it, but she'd learned. Her first shoot out had taught her just what the Guardian Corps was really about. It was supposed to have been a routine call out, just another noise complaint, the kind they got all the time. Only the noise complaint had turned into a gunfight between a bunch of boozed up revellers and Amodar, the veteran Guardian Corps officer she'd been partnered with. She'd stood there, frozen in shock and fear, until her partner had grabbed her and shoved her behind some cover.

Amodar had ended up with two bullets in his gut. The people who'd shot him ended up dead.

After that, Claire realised that the meagre level of basic training she'd been given just wasn't enough. She wouldn't always be dealing with parking fines and jaywalkers. There were people out there who would want to kill her and as she was, she wouldn't be able to stop them. But she couldn't, wouldn't allow herself to die, not until she knew that Serah would be able to manage on her own. So she'd trained harder, pushing herself until she thought she'd break and asking anyone and everyone for help. Firearms, unarmed combat, tactics, she threw herself into all of them so that the next time she got into a dangerous situation, she wouldn't be the one in danger – the other person would be.

And it worked.

On her seventeenth birthday, she shot someone for the first time. It was another routine call, some lowlife spraying graffiti. But he hadn't wanted to come in easy. He'd pulled a knife, stabbed Amodar in the leg and then come after her. She'd hesitated for a split-second. But then she imagined what would happen if she didn't pull the trigger. She saw Serah standing over her coffin, Serah watching her get put into the ground, and Serah going back to an empty house full of faded memories and dead dreams. After that, pulling the trigger was easy.

Her first shot hit him in the shoulder and spun him round. The second shot hit him in the leg. He fell to his knees, and her third shot would have blown a hole in his head if Amodar hadn't reached out and tugged her gun to the side with a hand still sticky with his own blood.

"That's enough," Amodar had said, and she'd listened because he was a good man and one of the few people she really trusted. "Put the gun down, Farron." She'd put the gun down slowly, her eyes still locked on the mole on the criminal's forehead. Her third shot would have gone right there, just an inch above his left eye.

After that, things had gotten easier. People down at the station stopped making fun of her. She was Claire Farron, only seventeen, but she'd stopped a grown man with a knife dead in his tracks. She'd been surprised by how little paperwork she had to fill in. Apparently, it wasn't that big a deal unless the person she shot ended up dead.

Once she'd gotten everything straightened out, she'd gone straight home and taken Serah out to a nice restaurant for diner. It was scary how little shooting a man had bothered her. But every time she looked at Serah smiling and laughing and begging her to come up to the counter to pick a cake, she realised why it didn't bother her. Serah meant the world to her. If shooting people was what it took to go back home to Serah each night, then shooting people is what she would do.

Claire shook her head to break herself out of her memories and turned her eyes to the graves. She wasn't sure if her mother and father would be proud, but she liked to think they would understand. Being part of the Guardian Corps had taught her a valuable lesson. People like Serah needed to be protected from all of the monsters out there, and the only way a person like Claire could do that was if she became a monster herself.

She took a deep breath and stood just as her phone began to ring.

She flipped the phone open. "Farron here."

It was Amodar. "Can you get to the Bodhum Central Primary School?"

There was something in his voice that gave her pause, and she took a moment to reply. "I can get there. What sort of situation do we have?"

Amodar's voice held none of its usual warmth. He was serious, dead serious. "Hostage situation. The higher ups want every Guardian Corps officer we have to keep up a perimeter."

Claire took one last looked at the graves and then walked briskly back to her car. It was a Guardian Corps car, one that Amodar had helped arrange for her. She was too young to have her full licence, but the Guardian Corps were so understaffed that everyone was happy to look the other way. Besides, she might drive too fast, but she'd never had an accident.

She reached the school in less than ten minutes and pulled up in front of the perimeter that had already been put in place. There were at least two dozen Guardian Corps there, with more arriving each minute, and they'd fenced off the area around the school. They were also keeping a close eye on the media that had gathered. She scowled. Vultures, that's what the media were, a flock of vultures, just waiting for a tragedy to unfold so that they could pick at the carcass.

"What's the situation?" she asked as she fell into step beside Amodar. As one of the more senior officers, he was likely to be in charge until the higher ups got there. "Amodar?"

"Intelligence is a little sketchy, but here's what we know: there's at least three terrorists in there, heavily armed, with maybe forty children as hostages." She could see the fury simmering in his eyes. He liked kids, was good with them too, and he was almost always the first one to volunteer when the Guardian Corps needed someone to drop by a school to give the press a feel good story. She hated going with him, but it was a small price to pay considering how good he was at everything else. "They haven't made any demands yet though."

"Is that unusual?" Claire asked. She hadn't been in a hostage situation before.

"Not really. A lot of these crazies like to wait till the higher ups get here. They know a guy like me can't really give them anything big." Amodar glanced at his watch. "Damn it, it's been fifteen minutes. Someone should be here by now."

And ten minutes later, someone did arrive. Claire had never met him before, but Amodar seemed to know him. He was some big shot negotiator, someone who was authorised to speak on behalf of the Guardian Corps and the government. The terrorists' demands were simple. They had allies in prison and they wanted them released. If they were then everyone got to walk away alive. If not then the next day's newspapers were going to be showing pictures of a lot of dead children.

Even though Claire had never been part of a hostage situation, she'd read about them. She knew the negotiator would try to empathise with the terrorists, try to establish a rapport and then stall, maybe even bargain their demands down a little. She wasn't supposed to be listening, but she heard Amodar and the negotiator talking. The people the terrorists wanted out weren't petty felons. They were on death row for their crimes, not exactly the kind of people the government or the Guardian Corps wanted to give up.

Things were going well for a while, or so it seemed. Then everything started to go to hell. The terrorists shot one of the children. Not enough to kill, but enough for the child to make a lot of noise. It was terrible to listen to that child scream and wail. It put a chill in the air and suddenly the negotiations turned from routine to frantic. These men were serious, and they were not afraid to spill innocent blood. There was a time limit now too. Without treatment, the child would probably bleed out in thirty minutes, maybe less if they didn't calm down and stop screaming and thrashing.

Tick tock, Mr Negotiator. Tick tock.

It made Claire want to throw up.

But things only got worse from there. PSICOM showed up. Her lips curled. PSICOM were special forces, people trained to do the things other people couldn't, or wouldn't do. The terrorists must have finally pushed the people in charge too far. The only problem was, PSICOM had a nasty reputation of leaving corpses behind, and not just enemy corpses. They took control of the operation and suddenly she found herself with Amodar and the rest of the Guardian Corps outside of the perimeter as PSICOM tried to storm the building.

Stupid.

Stupid.

Stupid.

PSICOM managed to get into the building without being noticed, a testament to their training, but the terrorists weren't slouches either. As the first flash bangs went off and PSICOM poured into the building, the gunfire started.

Fact: Information in hostage situations is rarely completely correct.

Their intelligence had suggested the presence of at least three terrorists, maybe four or five at the most. There were seven, and that made a hell of a difference. Gunshots filled the air, and windows all along the building began to shatter. Somehow, someone got one of the doors open and children ran out of the building screaming. Some of them were bleeding, and others were just plain terrified out of their wits. Still, there were a good deal less than forty children running out of the building.

Claire didn't need to be told what to do. She and the other Guardian Corps rushed forward to pluck the children out of harm's way. She lost track of time as she grabbed child after child and hustled them away from the building and into waiting ambulances and Guardian Corps cars. However, time snapped back into perfect focus as the surviving terrorists began to shoot their way out of the building. Three of them were already dead, or down, but the remaining four fired wildly into the crowd and the children still trying to flee. Several Guardian Corps officers went down in that first barrage, either caught off guard, or shielding the children with their bodies.

It was an absolute mess.

Claire saw good men and women, people she'd worked with over the past year and half, torn to bits by bullets. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Amodar try to fire back, only to be forced behind cover. Before she knew it, her gun was up and she was firing at the terrorists, her whole body shaking as she sprinted for the cover of a tree at the same time.

She managed to hit one of them in the chest, and he dropped, gun still firing as his hand squeezed the trigger in a final, fatal spasm. The tree shook as the gun ripped into it, the heavy rifle slugs tearing great chunks of it away. She might have screamed, she wasn't sure. She couldn't hear anything, couldn't think. There was only instinct as she waited for the gunfire to stop so that she could shoot back.

The three remaining terrorists were desperate now. The surviving Guardian Corps officers were caught out in the open, and more of them went down as they tried to crawl for safety. PSICOM finally came out of the building, and two more of the terrorists were killed, caught between PSICOM and the Guardian Corps.

Finally, there was only one terrorist left, and Claire felt a cry leave her lips as she saw him turn to the nearest Guardian Corps officer with mad desperation in his eyes. It was Amodar, and what meagre cover he'd been able to find had long since been blow apart amidst the hail of gunfire. There was no time to think. She raised her gun and fired. The shot caught the terrorist right between the shoulders, and he turned, spinning as blood poured from the wound. She caught a flash of his face, his features drawn into a mask of hate and horror, just before the two of them fired almost as one. His bullet punched through her side and out through her back and she jerked away, but hers caught him square in the neck. He gagged, throat blown open, before Amodar's pistol brought an end things.

Dumbly, she fell to her knees as her eyes went to the blood on her uniform. She was aware of Amodar running over to her and screaming for help as the media pressed forward in a vain attempt to get a closer look. The last thought she had before darkness claimed her was the sincere hope that Serah wouldn't see her bleeding all over the news. Oh, and it was her turn to do the dishes after dinner.

X X X

When Claire awakened, there was no pain. Dazed, she got to her feet and clutched at her side. Nothing. Almost frantic, she pulled up the side of her Guardian Corps uniform. There wasn't a scratch on her, not even so much as a drop of blood. What was going on?

Eyes narrowed, she looked around. Wherever she was, it didn't look like a hospital. Titanic stone pillars rose up on either side of her, so tall that they disappeared into the inky darkness high above her. What little light there was seemed to come from far away, an eerie blue-green glow that seemed to cut through the darkness in a way no light should.

"What is this place?" she murmured. And then, more loudly, "Is there anyone here?"

Silence. But in the distance, she could hear a sound almost like the rumble of thunder.

She should be worried, panicked, but there was something about the place that seemed strangely familiar, almost as though she'd been here before. Her hands went to the holster at her side, and she breathed a sigh of relief to find that her gun was still there. She pulled the weapon free and then took another look around.

Behind her, there was a vast, endless darkness, filled with tall, brooding pillars and hungry shadows. In front of her, there were more pillars, but the strange blue-green light seemed to be stronger. It wasn't much of a choice, but it was better than nothing. She walked forward.

As she walked, she paid close attention to her surroundings. The strange light had grown strong enough for her to make out a few more features of the place she was in. It was a temple, or something similar, and it had an air of faded magnificence about it. The floor was dusty and scarred, but she could have sworn that beneath the dust it was fine marble. Symbols and paintings covered the floors and pillars, but they were all but impossible to make out beneath a maze of jagged cracks. Putting one hand on a pillar, she felt a shiver of unease sweep through her. It was rough, yet smooth, as though it had been scarred by countless years of wind and rain.

Onward she walked until at least the pillars came to an end. She stood at the threshold of some enormous courtyard. Beyond the courtyard was a vast landscape of towering stone buildings, grey, and stern flung up toward a dark, brooding sky that seemed to glow with the blue-green flash of lightning. Her ears rang as thunder swept over her, and in the distance, one of the buildings came apart and tumbled to the ground in a plume of smoke and ruin.

Then her eyes were drawn to the gigantic gate that stood at the centre of the city. It towered over everything else, a last, defiant sword thrust into the very heart of the storm-broken sky. And directly in line with the gate, at the far end of the courtyard was a raised dais.

She walked toward it, compelled by some emotion she could not name. All of this was familiar. Somehow, everything was familiar. When she reached the dais, her blood turned to ice in her veins. Atop the dais was a crystal throne and sitting on that throne, every feature lit by the glow of lightning in the sky, was a perfect crystal replica of her. No, she realised, not her as she was now, but her as she would be when she no longer stood on the cusp of womanhood, but was a woman in her prime. The legs of the replica were crossed and a strange sword-like weapon was draped across its lap.

_Do you know why you are here?"_

Claire flinched. "Who is that?" she looked around but could see no one else. "Who are you?"

_You know who I am for we are one and the same._

It was her voice, her voice speaking to her, but it came from the crystal figure on the throne. "No…" she murmured as she took a slow step back. "No…"

_Yes._

"This is just a dream," Claire said. "I was shot and now I'm hallucinating or maybe… maybe I'm dead." It was too horrible to contemplate. She refused to leave Serah alone.

_In another time and place, we served Great Etro. A task was put before us, one of utmost importance. But we failed. And because of our failure, all was lost. She was lost._

"What are you talking about?" Claire tried to step away again, but she was frozen, trapped in place. "Leave me alone!"

_Do you want to protect Serah? Do you want to protect your world?"_

"Of course!" Claire shouted. "Serah is my world!"

_If Serah is your world, then why risk your life for Amodar?_

"He is a good man," Claire said. "And what else was I supposed to do? How could I look Serah in the eyes if I let him die?"

The crystal figure on the throne did not move, but Claire sensed a change in the air about it. It seemed pleased.

_You are dying, Claire Farron. That is why I could bring you here. _

"No!" Claire shook her head. "I won't die. I refuse to die! I won't leave Serah alone!"

_Then you will need power. Power to live, power to protect, power to succeed where I could not. I will give you this power, the same power that was entrusted to me. But know that it comes with a great price. A war is coming and you will have to fight it._

Claire reeled. This was madness. But… "Will I be able to save my sister? Will I be able to keep her safe?"

_I can promise nothing. But you will have the chance to save her, and the world. You will become the mightiest of mortals, a knight of Etro, a servant of the goddess. _

"I don't understand." Claire tried to move, but her body refused. "Who is this Etro? What are you talking about?"

In the distance, more buildings fell, and a wave of dust rumbled toward them.

_When you awaken, you will know what to do, what words you must say._ Cracks began to appear all over the crystal figure. _Now go. Succeed for both of us. Keep her safe. Keep the world safe. And may Etro watch over you always._ _And remember, you always have a choice. Your destiny is not set in stone. It is for you to decide. _

X X X

Claire's eyes opened and the first thing she knew was pain. Swallowing thickly, she eased herself up into a sitting position and looked around. She was in a room at Bodhum General Hospital and Serah… Serah was there in a chair beside her bed. In the dim light, she could still make out the tracks of tears down her sister's cheeks.

There was a boom and the room shook. She looked outside. Lightning… a flash of pain stabbed through her skull. Her dream… the sky… it was just like in her dream. But had it really been a dream? Deep inside her, something stirred. No, it hadn't been just a dream, she was sure of it. As the lightning outside called down another peal of thunder, she felt a surge of strength.

With her jaw clenched against the pain, she stumbled to her feet. A hiss broke from her lips, and she turned to make sure that Serah was still asleep. Despite the storm outside, Serah hadn't stirred. She must be exhausted. With one hand on her wounded side, Claire staggered toward the door. The roof, she needed to get to the roof. Why, she didn't know, she just knew that she had to.

The corridor outside her room was dark, but somehow, she managed to get to the elevators and from there up to the top floor. Getting up onto the roof was a little harder. Her side had begun to ache horribly, and she felt the bandages there grow moist. Whatever they'd done to treat her, she'd probably just ruined it.

The door to the roof was locked, so she threw herself against it. Once, twice, three times, until it finally broke and she tumbled onto the rain-soaked concrete. With the storm to drown out her cries, she howled in pain as she dragged herself through the rain and wind to the centre of the roof. Half blind with agony, she forced herself to stand.

_Speak the words._

It was her voice, but older, and so very faint. Dimly, her mind wandered back to the cracks spreading across the crystal figure that sat upon the throne. Would this be the last time she ever heard that voice?

_Say the words. Call the lightning. Become Etro's knight once again!_

Claire turned her face up to stare into the raging heavens above her. From a lifetime away, a world away, the words came. "By the grace of Etro, let thunder herald my arrival. I am the white flash, hear my name. Lightning!"

And there was a pause in the storm, a deep and edifying silence. And then the skies tore and a single bolt of lightning swept down from the ceiling of the heavens and struck her. It hit her and her whole world became a mass of pain, but just as quickly, that pain became power, more power than she'd ever known, more power than she'd ever thought could exist. It surged through her body, every single cell exploding with strength and force. The pain in her side vanished and she knew that her wound was healed.

She felt absolutely invincible.

Far away, in a temple beyond space and time, a crystal figure on a crystal throne shattered into a million pieces.

And one week later, Lady Lightning made her first appearance.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

Wow, I am kind of surprised by the amount of feedback I received for the previous chapter. Before I say anything else, I would like to say how grateful I am for that feedback, all of it, even the feedback from people who did not like the chapter. I'm always looking to improve, and even something as simple as 'I didn't really like the tone' is useful, because it tells me what sort of things I need to work on. The day I start thinking I can't improve is the day I know I've finally lost my mind.

I decided to change the tone on this chapter a little. I wanted to talk about Lightning's origins in this story, and as you can imagine, I wanted to keep things fairly serious. This contrasts a bit from the previous chapter, but I think it's a necessary step. Even Superman, who is kind of the poster boy for positivity, has a fairly dark origin (having pretty much your whole race wiped out has to qualify as dark). I'm also curious to know if people liked the change in tone. For those of you wanting something a bit less serious, do not fear. I plan on having chapters that vary tone depending on the subject matter that they deal with (e.g., this chapter deals with terrorists taking children hostage, which is clearly not funny). I want to see if I can maybe strike a balance between humour, seriousness, and everything in between. If not, then I can at least try.

In terms of superhero lore, Lightning's (i.e., Lady Lightning's) origins are somewhat similar to those of Captain Marvel, in that she received her powers from someone else and that she has to speak a certain phrase or word to activate them. There will, of course, be differences, but these will become clear in later chapters (i.e., I may or may not be making this up as I go along). The temple that Lightning goes to after she is shot is a reference to Etro's Temple in FF XIII-2. The words spoken by the crystal Lightning on the throne (indeed the very presence of the crystal Lightning on the throne) are also one big reference to FF XIII-2 as well. Even Lightning's phrase to summon her powers is a reference to FF XIII (look up Etro and Lightning in the Final Fantasy wiki if you aren't sure about what I mean).

Although Lightning's 'transformation' is modelled on Captain Marvel, the outlook she has in this chapter, and indeed the feel of most of this chapter, is modelled on Batman. Yes, I used Batman in the same sentence as Lightning. Batman is gritty, he is obsessed, and he will do what needs to be done, just like Lightning. In fact, I'd actually considered making Lightning a more Batman like figure but decided I couldn't do as much with it as I'd like. That and I wanted her to be able to fly. Still, there was definitely something attractive about the idea. I can imagine it now (cue movie trailer voice):

_On that day, in the rain and mud of a dark alley, Claire Farron lost something she would never get back: her innocence. From that day forward, Claire Farron would be a mask, a shell used to hide the real woman. That real woman is Lightning, and there isn't a criminal in Bodhum who doesn't know her name and what it means: justice at any price._

Well, that's all for the author's notes, this one is already quite long. I will say, however, that I have plans for our favourite Gran Pulse duo, and I'm curious to see if anyone can guess just which superhero/superheroes they will be modelled on. You get a virtual cookie and internet hat tip from me if you're right. Off topic, my birthday is this week and as a sort of present to myself, I'm hoping to allocate myself more writing time.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Gift**

The middle-aged woman did her best to keep her eyes on the road. She was tired, more than tired, and it would probably have been for the best if she pulled over, but she couldn't bring herself to stop the car. All she wanted to do right now was just get home and crawl into bed. Maybe then she could pretend that the last week of her life was nothing more than a bad dream.

It was funny though. Only a week ago, her life had been pretty good. Not great, but pretty good. She was forty-one and in a committed relationship with a decent man. He wasn't perfect, but then again neither was she. Still, he was reasonably handsome, and quite successful for someone who lived all the way out in the Vestige.

But the best thing about her life had been her job. She'd been in her teens when she'd found out that she couldn't have children. It hadn't bothered her much at the time, but as the years had passed and her friends had settled down and started families of her own, it had begun to weigh on her more and more. It had even cost her several relationships. Most men didn't want to stay, not after finding out that she couldn't have children. Sure, they could adopt, but it wouldn't be same, at least, that's what most people seemed to think.

So, she'd done the only thing she could do to fill the void in her heart. More than a decade ago, she'd quit her job and worked hard to earn the accreditation she needed to set up her own orphanage. It had been tough at first, but there were so many children that needed looking after, and she was only too happy to take them.

The children called her matron, and after a while the name sort of stuck. She was matron now, to herself, the children, and everyone else she met. Life had been good for a while. The children hadn't been hers, not really, but it had been close enough, and her love for them was real. And even if she did have to give them away, it wasn't too bad. She was happy for them, happy that they had new families that could look after them and give them the love and care that they deserved.

But at the beginning of the week, everything had changed. Her boyfriend had broken things off. He wasn't a bad man, but he wasn't good with words, and so his explanation had been swift and brutal. He hadn't wanted children, not at the start, but his priorities had changed. He'd met someone else too, someone who didn't spend all her time at an orphanage working with kids she'd never get to keep.

Then there was the orphanage. Right from the start, money had been tough, but she'd always been able to make do with government assistance and donations. Now, donations had dried up and the government was tightening its belt. A few days ago, the orphanage had closed, and the children were gone, taken to other orphanages all over the country. She could have followed them, tried to find work at another orphanage, but she was just too tired to keep fighting. Her life – forty-one years and two hundred and twenty one days to be exact – had come apart in less than a week. It made her so sad she couldn't even cry.

The only thing she had left was the small farm where she'd been born and raised. After her parents had died, it had gone to her because all of her siblings were gone, off to make a life for themselves in better places than the Vestige, places like Eden City. But she wasn't smart like them, or beautiful, and the bright lights of the big cities held no appeal to her. She might not have had much, but what she'd had – her boyfriend and the children who were not really her children – those had been enough for her.

Perhaps she might try her hand at farming. She might not be smart or beautiful, but she could work hard, and at least no one could take the land or what she grew away from her. She would have to content herself with other things now and hope that it would be enough. But still, it wasn't fair. She wasn't a mean person, or a cruel person, and she had done her best to live a good and decent life, so why was her life falling apart? As practical as she was, it did not take long for the answer to come. It was simple. Life wasn't fair.

And so here she was, driving along a dirt road in the middle of the night, back to an old farm and an empty bed. There was a part of her that wondered what it would be like to just wander off into the wilderness around the Vestige. She could disappear and it would be days before anyone found out. It would be so easy, and after that, she wouldn't have to worry about anything any more. She could just lie down somewhere and let the cold do its work.

The only thing that stopped her was the thought of the children. Many of the children she'd raised at the orphanage still kept in contact with her, and she knew that they would miss her if she were gone. She'd kept every one of their letters, tucked all of them away into an old shoebox under her bed. Maybe it was silly to hang onto things like that, but reading through those letters let her know that she'd done something right in her life, that even if the world wasn't fair, at least she'd help someone else get the better of bad circumstances –

BOOM.

She slammed her foot down on the brakes as a great boom shattered the sky. Looking out the window, she saw a fireball rip through the clouds. A great trail of smoke and flame trailed after it, and there was another almighty crash as the fireball struck the ground about a mile away. For a second, she could only stop and stare as a bright glow sprang up from the site of the impact. She shook herself. This was no time for gawking. That fireball could be a meteor or something and even if the area was pretty deserted, there was no telling if someone had been hurt. Glad to have something else to think about, she sped toward the site of the crash.

It didn't take her long to get to where the fireball had gone down. It wasn't easy to miss. Smoke and flame leapt from a vast crater gouged into the earth not far from the road. Feeling a little nervous, she hopped out of her car and crept toward the edge of the crater. It was the middle of the night, but there was something in there glowing so brightly that it wasn't hard to see at all. It was a bluish-white sort of light, pure and somehow warm. Her skin tingled where the light touched it, and she slowed her pace a little as she made her way down the side of the crater.

The side of the crater was steep, and some of the rock was still hot, but she did her best to pick a path through the debris and rubble toward the bottom of the crater. There was something there, she could see it, though the smoke and lingering flames made it hard to see just what it was. As she grew closer, the strange light was accompanied by a humming sound, almost like a spoon striking the side of the glass. It seemed to echo in her bones and rattle around in her skull.

Lifting one hand to shield her eyes, she continued her descent. Now, at last, she could see what lay at the bottom of the crater. It was a big glowing crystal about the size of her car, and it was a strange, almost transparent blue. What kind of meteor was this? Maybe it was some government project or something… people were always talking about things like that on television so maybe there was something to the idea.

But all those thoughts fled as she realised that the crystal wasn't empty. No, there were two people inside it – two young girls. Stunned, she stumbled back and looked around. Surely this couldn't be a government project because it couldn't possibly by legal to put children in something like this. But if it wasn't something the government had put together, what was it? Aliens? She scoffed. That was even crazier. Besides, it didn't matter. What mattered was getting those children out of harm's way.

Gingerly, she crept back toward the crystal. There didn't seem to be any buttons or hinges on it, but it couldn't hurt to try. She ran her hands over it, surprised at how cool it was.

"Come on," she murmured. "Open."

This close, she could see the two children clearly. One of them looked to be about seven years old and had dark hair. The other was younger, perhaps four, and had orange-red hair. Both looked to be deep in sleep, and there was a small crystal, pure white, clutched in the hands of the redhead.

She scowled and continued to run her hands over the crystal in search of some kind of opening. Finally, there was a hiss and the crystal began to dissolve. Startled, she backed away, but in a moment, she was up again. She didn't know if the crystal was dangerous – it hadn't seemed dangerous – but it couldn't be a good idea to leave those girls in there while it was dissolving.

But even as she reached forward, the dark haired girl's eyes opened. For a split-second, the matron froze. Those eyes, she'd never seen eyes so green before. Then, the girl was yelling and waving her arms about as she stumbled to her feet. The crystal continued to dissolve, vanishing as if it had never been, and the dark haired girl darted over to the red head. The younger girl was still sleeping, and the older girl lifted her awkwardly into her arms, stumbling about almost drunkenly as she shoved through the remains of the larger crystal and looked around at the crater in a mixture of fear and confusion.

"Calm down," the matron said, moving slowly toward the two girls. The dark haired girl rounded on her with a snarl, baring her teeth. "It's okay. I'm not trying to hurt you. Just… just tell me who you are and what all of this is." There was almost nothing left of the larger crystal now, just a great, blackened mark at the centre of the crater.

The girl yelled something in a language that the matron couldn't understand and looked around again. There were tears in her eyes, and she held the smaller girl against her as though afraid to let go for even a moment.

"I can't understand you," the matron said. In fact, she didn't recognise the language at all. She bit her lip. The correct thing to do would be to report these children to the authorities. Clearly, something strange was going on here. But at the same time, she couldn't quite bring herself to pull her phone out of her pocket and call. The girl was terrified and the matron knew that the authorities would only make it worse. She'd dealt with enough orphaned children to know that the authorities were seldom kind. And the more she thought about it, the more she began to wonder if maybe she hadn't been right before. Maybe these children were… were aliens or something.

"Look, I just want to help you," the matron moved closer, one step at a time, trying to be as open and non-threatening as possible. "I don't know if you can understand, but I know you're frightened and confused. If you calm down then I can help you."

Even if the girl couldn't understand her, the matron's tone of voice seemed to get through. The dark haired girl relaxed a fraction and looked down at the red head in her arms. The younger girl still hadn't stirred, though her breathing seemed deep and even.

"Can I see if she's all right?" the matron asked, reaching slowly for the younger girl. Along the way, her hand brushed the crystal clutched in the red head's hands and there was a flash of white light. "What?"

X X X

The matron gaped at the sight in front of her.

She was in the middle of an enormous crystal city. Everything, from the buildings to the roads, was made of crystal. Light seemed to fill all of it, flashing from place to place, until the whole city was one gigantic glowing tapestry. But even as she marvelled at the sight, a deep rumble came from deep below the ground. There was a sound like breaking glass and suddenly cracks began to appear everywhere. The roads splintered and buildings began to shatter, raining down on the people below.

This place was dying.

She ran for shelter, only to stop short as a piece of crystal passed right through her. Whatever was going on here, it didn't seem like it affected her. But then her attention was drawn to two small figures running down the street toward her. She recognised them at once as the two girls she'd seen inside the crystal.

As the shaking grew more intense, the girls ran for the safety of one of the few building still standing and the matron followed them. Inside the building, the girls ran through a maze of corridors before finally reaching what seemed to be some kind of laboratory. There were more than a dozen large machines there, all of them arranged around what looked to be the crystal that had crashed into the ground.

The dark haired girl shouted something in the language that the matron still could not understand and there was a strange sensation, almost like a muscle being pulled before the words were somehow clear.

"Father!" the dark haired girl cried. "Father, what's happening?"

A man emerged from beneath the crystal, his face set into a grim mask of determination. "Gran Pulse is dying, Fang."

Fang shook her head. "No… no… the elders all said that everything would be okay and…"

The man, Fang's father shook his head. Quickly, he knelt in front of Fang and cupped her cheeks in his hands so that she would look directly into his eyes.

"We were wrong," he explained. "We thought we could contain Ragnarok, but we couldn't and now our planet is paying the price." He shook his head. "You need to go now, Fang." He glanced at the red head beside Fang. "You and Vanille."

"But, father, what about you?" Fang growled. Vanille was silent, tears rolling down her cheeks as she pressed herself against Fang.

He shook his head. There was a fatalistic sense of calm about him. "There's no time. This is the only ship we have that can outrun the blast when Gran Pulse explodes but it's not finished yet. It won't be able to carry the three of us, not if it's going to get far enough away for you to survive."

"You can't stay, father!" Fang grabbed her father. "You'll die!"

"Yes." He nodded. "But you two will live." He stood and picked both Fang and Vanille up. Fang fought, kicking and clawing, but his grip was firm, and he carried both of them toward the crystal. At his approach, the crystal opened and he bundled both Fang and Vanille into it along with a small, pure white crystal. Fang flung herself at him, but the crystal closed, and she could only pound her hands against it. Beside her, Vanille was still gently sobbing.

"No!" Fang screamed. She slammed her hands on the glass again and again. "You can't stay, father! Father, you have to come with us!"

Cracks had begun to appear in the crystal walls and floor of the laboratory.

Quickly, he went over to the machines and there was rumble as they began to activate. The crystal began to glow, and he walked over to press one hand against the shining surface. Slowly, Fang stopped hitting the inside of the crystal as she strained to touch her father's hand. There couldn't have been more than a few inches of crystal between them, but it might as well have been a few miles.

"It is the duty of a father to fight for his children," he said. "All my life, I have been shunned by the Yun because I chose the life of a scientist over that of a warrior. But because of that, you have a chance to live, Fang, you and Vanille. So all those years of ridicule, of shame, all of them were worth it because just this once, I will be strong enough to do what every father should – protect his children." A tear rolled down his cheek. "Never forget that I am proud of you, never forget that you are Yun." He looked at Vanille. "And look after Vanille. She may not be your sister by blood, but she is the sister of your heart. You will need each other."

Fang pressed herself against the crystal, straining against the immovable surface as the crystal began to rise in the air. The ceiling opened revealing a sky awash with stars. "Father!"

And then the crystal was gone, rocketing up into the sky and away from the dying world.

The scene shifted and the matron blinked. It was the same laboratory only it seemed to be a few minutes before the crystal's departure. Fang's father seemed to be looking right at her, but as she took a closer look, she realised he was talking to a white crystal, the same crystal he'd thrown in with Fang and Vanille, the same one clutched in Vanille's hands. It must be some kind of recording device.

"Gran Pulse is dying," he said. Beneath him the ground shook and a great groan ran through the building. Outside there were screams and the sound of crystal shattering. "But I will not let my children die with it. I do not know who you are, but if you are listening to this, then you have the found ship that I sent my daughters in." He dragged in a deep breath. "I am asking you, as a father, whoever you are, to please look after my daughters. I know, from my research, that your planet is not too different from my own, and that with care and love my daughters will survive, even thrive." He closed his eyes. "They are all that will be left of Gran Pulse, all that will be left of countless centuries of wisdom and tradition. I have put as much of my people's knowledge in this crystal as I can. When they are old enough, they will be able to make sense of it. Whoever you are, please, take care of them until them. I know that they are meant for greater things. As a father, I do not care what happens to me so long as they can live and live well."

He moved as a voice rang out, Fang's.

"Please, look after them. They are the greatest gift that I could ever have asked for."

X X X

"You saw."

The words came from the girl that the matron now knew as Fang. Slowly, she reached up to wipe the tears from her own cheeks. Whatever had happened, her understanding of the girl's language seemed to have carried over. The girl also seemed to understand her as well. An alien… an actual alien. But still, she realised, just a girl, a girl who had lost everything and everyone she'd ever known except for Vanille.

"Yes," the matron said. "The… the crystal showed me." She paused. "Your father loved you very much."

Fang's voice was empty. "But he is gone."

The matron blinked back fresh tears. "Yes, but you are not, and neither is Vanille." She took a deep breath. It was crazy, but she knew what she had to do. Their father had called them a gift, and they were, especially to someone like her. "Let me help you."

"Why?" Fang was frightened, but she clearly had her wits about her.

The matron smiled brokenly. "Because I cannot have children of my own and everything else I have loved has been taken from me."

Fang looked into her eyes and for a long moment neither of them moved. Finally, she nodded. "All right. I will go with you." Her eyes grew moist. "Please… please let me be right in going with you."

The matron had never felt so humbled in her life. She nodded slowly, almost afraid to speak. "I will do my best."

The matron got both of the children into her car and drove them back to her farm. By that point the larger crystal, the one they'd arrived in, had completely dissolved. Even if it hadn't, it was too big to fit in her car anyway.

When she arrived back at her farm, she was quick to get the girls inside as she looked for some food and clothing. Both of the children's clothes had been reduced to rags, and even though Fang tried to hide it, she could tell that the girl was hungry. Soon, Vanille was awake, and her stomach let out a loud grumble.

"Here," the matron said, coming back with some old clothes from the orphanage. She would have to get them new ones, but for now these would do. "And some food." There hadn't been time to make anything good, but she'd been able to throw something into the microwave. "Careful, it's hot."

Fang darted forward to take the clothes and the matron left as she and Vanille changed into them. When she came back, neither had touched the food.

"What's wrong? I know you're hungry." The matron paused. "Are you worried that I did something to it? Here." She took a spoonful of the food and ate it, making a show of how good it was. "See, it's fine."

Almost immediately both Fang and Vanille tore into the food. Whatever that crystal had done to keep them alive during their journey, it clearly hadn't kept their stomachs full. But watching them eat, the matron felt a small smile slip across her face. This was all kinds of strange but somehow… somehow it felt right.

X X X

Over the next month, she got to know the girls. Fang, she learned, was fiercely protective of Vanille, to the point where she refused to let the other girl eat or drink anything until she was certain it was safe, usually by eating or drinking a small portion of it first. She was also quick to anger, and more than once the matron had found herself on the receiving end of the girl's rage as she screamed about the unfairness of it all. But the matron had run an orphanage for more than a decade, and so she stood her ground, doing her best to calm the girl down and soothe her frustration.

Vanille, though, had a much sunnier disposition. Even though she was very shy at first, she was very quick to warm to the matron. It wasn't long before she was trailing behind the matron as she went about the farm doing what needed doing. Vanille also seemed especially fond of the animals, and there were times when the matron could have sworn that Vanille could actually understand them.

But what truly amazed the matron was just how quickly the two children seemed to grasp what went on around them. Within a month, they no longer spoke their strange language, except to each other. Instead, they were using the same language as the matron, albeit it with accents, but still… to learn another language in a month, that was incredible. She wasn't sure if it had something to do with the crystal that Vanille still kept close by at all times, or if it was a part of whatever race they came from, but it was remarkable all the same.

But as the dark winter months gave way to spring and the sun came out, something else happened that took the matron completely by surprise. Fang punched through a wall. It had been completely by accident, as the girl tripped over something and put her hands out to break her fall, only to find the wall right in front of her.

The matron had just stared at Fang, and Fang had just stared at the wall. Then Vanille had giggled and helped Fang pull her arm out of the wall. Not willing to write the whole thing off as some bizarre accident, the matron had asked Fang to try again. The result was another, even larger hole in the wall.

It was the damndest thing.

It quickly became apparent that Fang was becoming a lot stronger than any normal person had a right to be. The matron quickly developed some skills in home repair as Fang struggled to get a hold of her newfound strength. But not everything about Fang's newfound strength was bad. After realising the damage she could do when she'd pushed the matron in a fit of anger and thrown her across the room, Fang soon developed an ironclad control over her temper. It was actually a little unnerving, considering the fact that the girl wasn't even eight.

Naturally, Fang had just managed to get some control over her strength when Vanille started to have the same problem. It was crazy, but the matron couldn't bring herself to mind. Already, she was starting to think of the girls as hers, and little by little, they were starting not to mind that too much.

The turning point came one day near the end of spring. The matron woke one night to get a glass of water only to find Vanille huddled up on the couch crying. The girl was doing her best to keep quiet, her knees tucked up under her chin, and one hand over her mouth, but still, the matron could just hear her as she passed by. Most likely, Vanille had crept out onto the couch because Fang would have heard her if she'd stayed in the room the two girls shared.

"Why are you crying?" the matron asked as she sat down next to Vanille.

Vanille looked up and suddenly, the matron had an armful of superhumanly strong girl to worry about. Fortunately, Vanille's control had improved and she wasn't as strong as Fang, so rather than being crushed, the matron was only mildly squeezed.

"I miss home," Vanille said.

The matron sighed and ran one hand up and down Vanille's back. "I understand. But you know, when I was young, my parents told me something that I think might help you. It's something I used to tell other people too."

"What?" Vanille asked.

The matron smiled faintly. "Before I found you and Fang I used to run an orphanage – that's a place for children who don't have parents. A lot of them were sad and scared, just like you, so I told them what my parents told me. A home isn't a place, Vanille, it's not stone or wood, or crystal. A home is people, people who care about you, people who love you. If you're with people like that then it doesn't matter where you are, you're home." The matron patted Vanille's hair. "You have Fang, who loves you very, very much. That means you still have a home, even if sometimes it doesn't seem like that." She glanced down at the small white crystal that Vanille kept with her at all times, she'd fashioned a necklace of sorts for it. "And your father gave you that, didn't he? It's a part of him that will always be with you, just like all the good things he did for you. As long as you don't forget those things, as long as you don't forget him, he'll always be there for you."

Vanille sniffled. "What about you? Do you love us too?" Her voice was very small. "I know… I know we're not really your children, and sometimes we're clumsy and we break things because we're too strong, and Fang gets angry sometimes, and I don't help much, and –"

The matron put one finger on Vanille's lips. "I love you both." And it was shocking how much she meant those words. She'd known these girls only a few months and already she couldn't imagine a life without them. Was this what mothers felt like when they had children? "I don't know how or why I was the one to find you two, but I'm glad that I was. I'd lost everything, but now I have you two."

Vanille nodded and burrowed into her arms. The matron felt like she was holding the most precious thing in the world. "Can you tell me a story? Our father always used to tell us stories." She giggled. "Fang always said she was too old for stories, but she listened anyway."

The matron nodded. "I don't know any stories from where you come from, but I know a lot from here. I hope you like them."

And so, she told Vanille what would be the first of many Cocoon fairy tales. Halfway through, Fang came in and the older girl's eyes lingered for a long, long time before she finally climbed up onto the couch beside the matron.

For the first time that she could remember, the matron felt whole.

X X X

Years passed.

The matron adopted Fang and Vanille as her own. In a place as isolated as the Vestige, questions were bound to be asked, but everyone had known the matron for years and so no one raised too much of a fuss. Besides, everyone knew that the matron would treat the girls right, and it wasn't that uncommon for kids to run away from home and turn up in strange places. They were better off with the matron, at least, that's what everyone thought.

But as the years went on, the matron couldn't shake the feeling that the girls were meant for something more than helping her keep her small farm going. By the time Fang was twelve, the girl could pick up a car and throw it like it was a tin can. And by the time Fang was fifteen she could fly. Sure, she couldn't fly particularly fast, but normal people couldn't fly at all.

It made the matron grin sometimes. She had a daughter who could fly. Actually fly. And every day she got a little bit faster. On the ground, Fang was faster still, fast enough that if she wanted to, she could get all of her chores done in a few minutes, or even run to town and back before the matron knew she'd been gone. Naturally, it made keeping an eye on Fang difficult, but the matron was glad to have the challenge.

Fang wasn't the only one changing either. Vanille went through the same changes too, although she was never as fast or as strong as Fang. She had some other quirks as well. In fact, each year that passed made the matron more certain that Vanille really did have some kind of telepathy. Then there was the time that Vanille had accidentally turned invisible… that had been interesting, especially when she'd realised that Vanille had turned invisible in the middle of her shower. Invisible or not, the matron was not about to have any daughter of hers running around naked.

But perhaps the biggest change came when Vanille turned ten and worked out how to use the white crystal she'd carried around with her since the day she and Fang had arrived. The crystal contained enormous amounts of information from Gran Pulse, everything from history to science. It even provided a rough estimate of what sort of powers they were likely to develop, which brought a definite smile to the matron's lips. She loved Fang and Vanille, but she could only afford to spend so much on repairing the farm. Fang had almost burned the place down when she had, in the middle of cooking, developed heat vision. Heat vision hot enough to burn a hole in the wall.

According to the crystal, the people of Gran Pulse had evolved in an extremely harsh environment. Exposure to a less extreme environment combined with the energy that their bodies were able to harvest from Cocoon's yellow sun meant that the girls were, for all intents and purposes, superhuman. The crystal had also revealed that Fang had come from a clan of warriors, whereas Vanille had come from a clan of scientists and scholars, which was probably why Fang was even stronger than Vanille.

Not surprisingly, school was very, very interesting. The matron was on good terms with all of the teachers in the Vestige, largely due to her work running the orphanage, which was a good thing because Fang had a nose for trouble. It wasn't like the girl deliberately set out to pick fights, but Fang had a naturally confident personality, and she absolutely refused to let people pick on her or Vanille.

More than one person had tried to pick a fight with Fang, and to the matron's immense pride, the girl had chosen not to use her enormous strength to her advantage. Instead, she'd done the right thing, turning the other cheek or letting her words speak for her – and she was very good with words. Even when she was finally provoked enough to lash out after a boy had tried to feel Vanille up, she'd only hit him hard enough to blacken his eye, not hard enough to smash his skull open. The matron had done her best to be appropriately angry, but it was hard. A man who felt a woman up without permission deserved a good slap over the head.

School also presented other difficulties. With her abilities, Fang could easily have entered every sporting competition and won all of them. Instead, she sat out and did her best to pretend that she wasn't hurt by having to miss out on all the fun. That made the matron sad, but there wasn't much she could do. If Fang and Vanille revealed themselves, it was quite possible that someone would come and take them away. Or at least try and take them away – she doubted anyone could make Fang and Vanille do anything they didn't want to.

Instead of sports, Fang turned to training. The white crystal held countless techniques that her clan had developed for combat, and Fang threw herself into learning and mastering as many of them as she could. With her stamina, she could train for hours, and it wasn't unusual for her to spend an entire Saturday or Sunday with an improvised spear in hand, stabbing and slashing at imaginary opponents.

As for Vanille, the crystal opened up a whole new vista of scientific knowledge. Despite maintaining excellent grades in all of her classes, the red head spent most of her free time puzzling out the finer points of Gran Pulse's technology in the barn near the edge of the property. It wasn't that the matron disliked Vanille's interest in science, it was just that after the second explosion from one of the girl's experiments, she had decided that it was probably safer for the house if Vanille maybe conducted her research a little further away. Improved toasters were all well and good, but not when they melted a hole through the floor and produced enough electricity to shoot lightning.

And then Fang turned eighteen and everything changed once again. After that, the matron knew she couldn't keep the girls to herself anymore. The world needed them, maybe even more than she did.

X X X

Fang grinned and did a lazy barrel roll. Flying was one of the most enjoyable things in the world. It was the reason she always made sure to do her chores early. The earlier she was done, the more time she would have to fly. Flying also gave her time to think, and lately, she'd had a lot to think about.

The matron was getting older. Sure, she tried to hide it, but Fang wasn't stupid and she had very, very good eyes. In fact, there probably wasn't a medical scanner in the world that could see into people as well as she could. The matron was develop arthritis, and even with the medication she was taking, there were still days when the matron had to bite her lip to try and hide the pain. It made Fang feel sick inside and she knew Vanille was working on something to try and help. But the matron wasn't like them… she was… she was fragile.

She shook her head. If she thought about that any longer, she'd only get depressed. She was up here to have fun. Most days, Vanille would have come up with her, but right now, the red head was helping their high school science club put together their latest project. Fang didn't have quite the grasp of technology that Vanlle had, but she sincerely hoped that her little sister wouldn't do anything too crazy. A giant laser was cool and all, but it probably wasn't appropriate for a high school science fair.

The stunt with the improved toasted had been the last straw before they'd moved Vanille's experiments out to the barn. It wouldn't matter much to Fang or Vanille if there was an explosion, at worst they might get bruises, but the matron wasn't like them and Fang was not about to lose her over something stupid like that. If she had her way, they'd never lose the matron. Apart from Vanille, the woman was the only family Fang still had. And Fang would never forget how the matron had taken them in, raised them, and loved them despite how they'd met. Most people wouldn't have taken in aliens, and ultimately, that's what she and Vanille were. But the matron had taught them well. Normal people weren't worth less than her or Vanille, they were just different, and different didn't have to mean bad.

A series of loud bangs broke her out of her thoughts and she turned her eyes to the west. Several miles away, a plane had begun to plummet, two of its engines pouring smoke. For a split-second, Fang paused. The matron had always been very, very clear about them not using their powers in public. If they did, they'd attract attention, and Fang was old enough now to understand how bad that could be. But this was different, if she didn't do something that plane could crash. As she gathered herself, she hoped the matron wouldn't be too angry.

There was another boom, this time from her as she shot through the air. The world swept past, and she despite the gravity of the situation, she let loose a cry of delight. She was fast, faster than anyone she'd ever met, faster than a speeding bullet and then some. Up ahead, the plane had begun to drop, its nose pointing straight down.

Fang slowed a fraction, and angled herself to try and grab onto the belly of the aircraft. She struck the belly of the plane with a dull thump and there was a screech as her hands dug into the metal. But the plane was heavy even for her, and there was a groan as it jerked to a stop before the part she'd been holding onto just ripped off.

Eyes wide, Fang dove after the plane, dodging as one of the engines broke off and tumbled toward her. A stray bit of metal struck her and she growled, cursing as it clipped her on the cheek. The impact was enough to knock her off course, even though the metal didn't leave so much as a scratch.

"Come on!" she spat, shaking her head and pushing herself to go faster.

She had both arms ahead of her now to try and shield herself from the debris, but the plane was picking up speed, and even if she did manage to catch up to it, she wasn't sure if she would be able to bring it to a stop in time. Abruptly, one of the wings ripped off and her eyes widened before she folded her arms over her face and rammed through it.

Metal came apart all around her and there was an explosion as fuel ignited, but Fang forced herself to press on. There would be time to worry about her clothes later, although if the breeze she felt was anything to go by, her jacket had definitely seen better days.

Below her, the plane had begun to spin, smoke trailing behind it and Fang let loose a cry of effort as she dug deep into that place inside her that let her fly and clawed for more. She picked up speed, the air around her shattering, and drew level with the plane. There was no way she'd be able to stop it now, but maybe… just maybe she could slow it down enough to make a difference.

Diving past the plane, she caught a brief glimpse of the cabin. There were people screaming and wailing – a few had even jolted loose from their seats. One of them glanced outside the window and for a moment their eyes met. Then Fang was underneath the plane, bracing her whole body under it to try and slow it down.

"Slow down, damn it!" Fang ground out as she strained against the plane. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a lake, and she grit her teeth and shoved against the plane to try and angle it toward the lake. "Come on!"

The next few moments passed in a blur, but then the lake was below her and there was a tremendous splash as the plane hit the water. She went down, driven all the way to the bottom of the lake by the force of the impact. Above her, she could see the plane on the surface of the lake. It was battered, and the other wing had come off, but the people on it were safe, and soon they began to evacuate.

She'd done. She'd made a difference.

Hoping that no one had seen her, she burst out of the lake and headed back toward the farm. Apparently, she'd hoped wrong.

When she got home, Vanille had a worried look on her face and the matron was sitting at the dinner table watching as a shaky video played on the news. It was shot from someone on the shore of the lake, and it showed what looked to be a human figure first catching the plane and then directing it toward the lake. Thankfully, the footage was too poor for anyone to get a good look at the person that appeared to be helping the stricken aircraft.

"Was that you, Fang?" There was something strange in the matron's tone, something Fang couldn't quite put her finger on.

Fang winced. "Uh… maybe?"

The matron sighed. "Sit down."

"Are you mad?" Fang asked. It was funny in way, how much the matron's opinion mattered to her.

"Maybe a little," the matron said. "But mostly I'm proud. You saved those people, Fang." The matron smiled, but there was a sad edge to it. "I've always known this day would come."

"What day?" Fang asked.

"Look around you, Fang. Do you really think that this small farm in the middle of nowhere is what you're meant for?" The matron smiled softly. "I don't think so."

Fang bristled. "I like the farm. It's… it's home."

"That means a lot to me, Fang, more than I can say." The matron's eyes were watery. "But you and Vanille were meant for more than this. Maybe it's my fault for not facing up to it sooner, but that's the truth." She looked out the window. "You two are special, and there's things that you can do that other people can only dream of. I tried to make a difference, Fang, and maybe I did with the orphanage, but you two can make so much more of a difference than I ever could."

Fang swallowed thickly. "Are you throwing us out?"

The matron chuckled softly and looked back at Fang. "You're my children, you and Vanille. I'm not throwing you out, and there will always be a place for you here. But I think the time has come for you to go on to bigger, better things. I know you've been thinking of going to university, and I know how much it's frustrated you trying to pretend to be normal all the time. Maybe it's time you took a chance to make something of yourself."

Fang's lips twitched. "Are you telling me to become a superhero?"

The matron smiled. "Would that be so bad? You wouldn't be the only superhero and I think you'd make a good one." She thought of the words Fang's father had spoken. "You'd be… you'd be my gift to the world."

Fang couldn't believe what she was hearing, but at the same time, she couldn't deny that she was interested. Cocoon had superheroes, and she knew, deep down inside, that she had what it took to be one of them. "I don't even have a costume or a name."

The matron looked at Vanille and then smiled. "Leave that to me and Vanille."

Fang laughed. "I'm going to regret it, but why not? If it doesn't work out, I can always come back here and help you out."

X X X

Fang's eye twitched as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She'd managed to get through two months of her degree in journalism at Nautilus University before a crisis had broken out. Nautilus was a playground for the rich and famous, which made it a fairly obvious target for terrorists and other criminals. Strangely though, it didn't have its own superhero yet, which, combined with its well-regarded university, sealed the deal.

The crisis in question had been caused by the arrival of several military grade robots, which had been hacked and turned loose on a hotel hosting a charity benefit for the nation's needy children. Not only was the cause one very dear to Fang's heart, there were also a lot of people in danger and the city's police were massively outgunned. She'd put things off long enough, since she could stop muggers and burglars without getting into a costume, but if she was going to get into an extended brawl with some robots, she would need a disguise.

She just wished she hadn't let the matron and Vanille come up with her disguise.

Her costume was mostly black and blue. She wore a black skirt trimmed in sapphire that went down to just above her knees. Thankfully, there were black shorts underneath the skirt because she couldn't imagine flying in just a skirt. For a top, she had a short-sleeved black shirt with sapphire highlights. In the middle of her chest was the symbol of the Yun clan, written in white, with a large dark blue 'U' superimposed on top. Completing the ensemble were sapphire blue boots and gloves. Oh, and she had a cape, a big one, somewhere between light blue and grey.

All in all, it wasn't too bad, but the thought of putting a big target on the middle of her chest was a little disconcerting. As was the fast she was wearing a skirt, even if there were shorts underneath. Couldn't they have given her pants? Pants were a million times more practical for flying. And the colour of her costume might be a problem too. She could easily imagine a plane running into her because it couldn't see her, what with all the blue and all. And then there was the 'U'… apparently it stood for Ultrawoman. It made her cringe. Vanille could, literally, design a working death ray, but the best name she could come up with was Ultrawoman?

Oh well, it was better than nothing, and it was really Fang's fault for letting the matron and Vanille handle everything. Besides, Vanille had also come up with a device that Fang could clip onto her costume which would disguise her features and her voice. Taking a moment to ensure that the device was on, Fang took one last look at her reflection and then opened a window.

Regardless of what she thought of her costume, it was time to get to work.

Ultrawoman, away!

Wait… had she seriously just thought that? Never mind. There was a city to save and some robots to trash.

X X X

Ultrawoman was an immediate hit. She quickly became renowned for her wicked sense of humour and model good looks. The people of Nautilus couldn't have been happier to have her. Not only could their superhero win any fight she got into, she could do it while looking and sounding good. The interest in her only increased when three years later another superhero turned up. This one called herself Ultragirl and she seemed to share most of Ultrawoman's powers.

Not surprisingly, their biggest fan was a certain woman who owned a small farm out in the Vestige.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

Ultrawoman, away! Seriously though, it's nice to be writing this again after a bit of a break. I've always loved comics, and the chance to write something in that vein is one that I'm happy to take especially since I can't draw at all. Seriously, I can't even do stick figures.

For anyone who didn't get it, Fang is modelled quite closely on Superman whereas Vanille is modelled more on Supergirl (in fact, Supergirl does have telepathy, shape shifting powers/invisibility, at least in some of her various incarnations). The choice of Fang's superhero name was also a nod at Superman. I also like the fact that Captain Marvel (who Lady Lightning is based on) is considered Superman's equal, at least in the awesome story arc 'Kingdom Come', which every serious comic book fan should read.

With regards to Fang and Vanille's origins, I just couldn't resist. After all, in Final Fantasy XIII they are the last surviving people of Gran Pulse – just like Superman was the last son of Krypton (although that has kind of changed in the comics with Kryptonians popping out of the woodwork like evil termites). Another thing that pushed me in this direction is the heavy role played by crystals in Final Fantasy XIII. Crystals also play a heavy role in Superman (look at the first Superman movie, which I absolutely loved, or the most recent one which was okay but not great). That and Fang does kind of go on about how awesome Gran Pulse was in comparison to Cocoon and in this story people from Gran Pulse are sort of awesome – they have super powers.

There was also one last thing that pushed me into modelling Fang on Superman. I'm a huge fan of super villains, and I loved the original Doomsday story arc, the one that culminated in Superman 'dying'. What has this got to do with Fang, you ask? One word: Rargnarok. In the game (Final Fantasy XIII) came to represent so many of Fang's mistakes in the past, and right before the end, it came to represent her giving up (when Vanille was being tortured and Fang partially transformed). In many ways, transforming into Ragnarok was Fang's Doomsday. Oh, and did I mention that Ragnarok is the word used for the final battle that occurs in Norse mythology – it is their version of doomsday. And don't forget, in this story Ragnarok (whatever, or whoever it is) actually destroyed Gran Pulse (if you missed that, refer to the vision the matron saw from Vanille's crystal).

Now all of this might lead you to ask… what exactly is Ragnarok going to be in this story? Is it an event, a place, a person? I won't say just what or who it is. What I will say is I'm going to have a lot of fun writing it. But don't worry, that won't be happening too soon. After all, our super heroes haven't even really met each other yet (and most of the other l'Cie have yet to appear).

Some of you are also probably wondering why most of the characters so far are based on superheroes set in the various DC comics. It's not that I don't like Marvel comics. In fact, I have spent about an equal amount of time reading DC and Marvel comics, and up until my late teenage years, I probably spent more time reading Marvel. It's just that I haven't yet found a character I think matches well with a particular Marvel superhero. When I do, I won't hesitate to use a Marvel superhero.

As a final note, there is a part of me that is seriously, seriously tempted to write an Ordinary Heroes omake set in this universe. Fang and Lightning with superpowers is cool – now imagine their kids have superpowers. Yes, that's right, imagine someone like Diana with superpowers. The world is suddenly a terrifying yet awesome place. And yes, I'm well aware that the story would probably be ridiculous. That doesn't stop me from wanting to write it though…

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	4. Chapter 4

**A Good Soldier**

Snow eased the door open and wheeled himself into the room. A rueful smile tugged at his lips. It was almost funny. It had been more than a year now, and there were still times when he forgot that he didn't need to reach down for the doorknob anymore. Old habits never died easy.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he lifted his chin and brought his hand up in a salute. "Sergeant Villiers reporting, sir."

"At ease, sergeant." The words came from the man behind the table at the far end of the room. He had dark hair streaked with grey, and a pair of glasses perched haphazardly on his face. He had a moustache too, one that was just shy of messy. "Thank your coming. I am Professor Gast." He gestured at the table. "Would you like to have a seat?"

Almost as soon as the professor had spoken the words, Snow saw him bite back a wince. Snow chuckled softly. "It's all right, professor," he said as he guided his wheelchair over to the table. "I know what you meant."

The professor nodded. "Even so, I apologise."

Snow glanced down at his wheelchair for a moment and then shrugged. "I don't need anyone's pity, professor. There are still things that I can do."

"I see." Gast smiled faintly. "That's good." He paused for a moment. "Tell me, sergeant, do you know why you are here?"

Snow shook his head. "Not really, professor. I was told to report to you for a briefing of some kind. That's all." A small frown crossed his lips. "If this is about what happened last week…"

Gast waved one hand. "Relax, sergeant. This briefing isn't related to what happened last week. By all accounts, you've been doing quite well. No, this briefing is about something else." He tapped his fingers lightly on a thick manila folder in front of him. It had Snow's name on it. "Tell me something, sergeant. Why did you join the Sanctum Armed Forces?"

Snow was silent for a moment. He hadn't expected a question like that. No, he'd expected a briefing about maybe taking on more administrative work – the only work he could do now that he was in a wheelchair. Still, he didn't see the harm in answering, and from the way his superiors had been acting, this Professor Gast was someone important. If the professor wanted to make small talk, Snow would just have to go along with it.

"I'm an orphan, professor. I spent my childhood as a ward of the state. When I turned eighteen, there really wasn't a place for me anymore." Snow wasn't bitter about that, not anymore. The law only mandated care for people under eighteen, and at least the state had paid for him to finish high school. "I didn't have the money for university, and there wasn't a lot that I was good at. The military seemed like the only place for me."

"Is that so?" Gast tapped the manila folder again and Snow had to fight not to look down at it. What did the professor know about him? "Is that all, sergeant? You just joined because you didn't know what else to do?"

Snow opened his mouth to agree and then stopped. There was something about Gast that made him a little uneasy. The professor didn't seem like a cruel man, but he did seem like a very, very perceptive one. The professor wanted the truth, and Snow had a feeling that he'd go a very long way to find it.

"I guess that's not the only reason." Snow laughed softly. "But it's going to sound a little stupid."

Gast smiled. "Let me be the judge of that."

"Do you know those cartoons they show in the morning, professor?" Snow looked away, his eyes drifting over the walls of the room. "The ones with superheroes. When I was a kid, professor, I used to watch those everyday, and dream about how great it would be if I could do something like that. I wanted to make a difference, to go out there and make the world a better place." He looked back at Gast. "I was eighteen when I joined the military, professor, eighteen and all I had was a high school diploma and enough money to rent a tiny apartment in the bad part of town. Where else was I supposed to go to make a difference?" He patted his useless legs. "Well, you can see how that turned out."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero, sergeant. There's nothing stupid about wanting to make a difference." Gast's voice was oddly gentle. "I've certainly heard worse in my day. One man I spoke to joined the military because he wanted to shoot someone." He opened the manila folder and leafed through the papers inside. "And from your records, sergeant, you seem to have done quite well. You've served two tours of duty, and received two special commendations for valour."

Snow chuckled. "I'd almost forgotten about those." He shrugged. "I just got lucky, that's all."

"Lucky?" Gast shook his head. "You were awarded your first commendation for singlehandedly taking a machine gun post that had your entire squad pinned down. Your second commendation was received for disabling several tanks." He grinned. "Luck? Maybe. But I like to believe that we make our own luck, sergeant."

"Well, it was either do those things or watch everyone in my squad get killed," Snow said. "Anyone else would have done the same."

"I'm not so sure about that." Gast paused. "But one year ago, you were injured. According to your records, you suffered extensive damage to your spinal cord after being caught in an explosion. The doctors didn't think you would survive, never mind regain the use of your arms."

Snow's jaw clenched. The professor didn't have to remind him about his injuries. He lived with them every day. "That's right."

"Why didn't you quit?" Gast asked. He leaned forward. "No one would have blamed you, and you would have received a reasonable pension for the rest of your life."

Snow shook his head, and straightened in his wheelchair. "I didn't sign up just to quit, professor. I might have lost my legs, but like you said, I've still got my arms." He grinned. "And there's always paperwork that needs doing. It's not much, but at least I can still help."

"I see." Gast glanced back at the contents of the manila folder. "I've reviewed the notes taken by the physicians and psychologists that helped you during your recovery. They make frequent reference to your determination, to your refusal to quit. They say that you handled yourself very well, that you never complained about how hard the rehabilitation was. In fact, their primary concern was that you were pushing yourself too hard." He pursed his lips. "They also make note of the positive influence you had on your fellow patients. Apparently, your example proved to be quite beneficial."

"That's very kind of them," Snow said. "But can you tell me why I'm here? I know all of this already."

Gast closed the manila folder. "Of course, I suppose it's about time I got down to business. However, before I begin, you must agree to keep everything I am about to say secret." His gaze hardened. "This is not a joke, sergeant. What you are about to hear is top secret and if you divulge this information to anyone, you will be imprisoned for a very, very long time." He paused to let his words sink in. "Do you agree?"

Snow nodded slowly. "I do."

"Good." Gast sighed. "Are you familiar with mako, sergeant?"

Snow frowned faintly. "As in the stuff they put in mako reactors?"

Gast nodded. "That's right. Sergeant, I am one of the world's leading mako researchers. Those reactors that you've heard about are just one example of the research I've been involved in. Properly controlled, mako has enormous potential as an energy source, although we're still trying to work out all of the kinks." His expression grew serious. "One of the more serious issues we've had to deal with is the effect that mako has on living things."

"Radiation poisoning," Snow murmured. "I think I heard about something like that in the news."

"Precisely," Gast said. "Overexposure to mako almost always leads to severe radiation poisoning resulting death." He paused. "It's the 'almost always' part that makes things tricky. One of my colleagues, a Professor Hojo, was intrigued and with government support, he decided to investigate the effects of mako on living things more closely. After all, understanding why mako poisoning kills some things and not others has obvious implications when it comes to safety. Unfortunately, he didn't stop there."

"What do you mean?" Snow asked. There was something in Gast's tone that unsettled him.

"Hojo discovered that under certain circumstances, mako could actually be used to physically enhance human beings." Gast's lips curled. "Infusions of mako – properly treated and organised – vastly increased the physical abilities of his test subjects."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Snow said. "But there must have been a problem, otherwise why aren't we using mako for that now?"

"As you suspect, there were problems." Gast shook his head as though to clear away some bad memory. "Further testing identified several flaws, including, but not limited to: homicidal aggression, fundamental changes in personality, and extreme paranoia." He shuddered. "Hojo's research should have been stopped there, but it was allowed to continue. The lure of producing superhuman soldiers was just too great. Eventually, however, one of Hojo's test subjects – Sephiroth – put an end to the program himself. He destroyed the facility where Hojo was conducting his research, and in the investigation that followed, the full extent of Hojo's… research was revealed. Suffice it to say, what we discovered was not only extremely far from pleasant, it was also very much illegal." He sighed. "Hojo escaped our custody and we have been searching for him ever since."

Snow ran one hand through his hair. This was insane. Sephiroth was a notorious criminal, one alleged to possess superhuman physical abilities. To find out that he had been created, and by a government scientist, no less, was nothing short of horrifying. "Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke."

"I wish it were." Gast sighed. "As one of the few people capable of understanding Hojo's research, I was asked to examine what little we were able to retrieve from his facility in the hope of developing a countermeasure. Sephiroth was not the first of Hojo's experiments to escape, and we are not even sure if he was the worst. That's where you come in."

Snow frowned. "I don't understand."

"I have examined Hojo's notes on Sephiroth, and I do not think that Sephiroth started out as a bad man. No, I think what was done to him brought out the worst in him. The problem with mako is that it seems to drive a person toward what we would call 'evil'. Increased aggression, psychopathic behaviour, paranoia – these are all changes that have been observed in numerous test subjects. However, I believe that this does not have to be the case." He paused. "I have developed a new procedure, sergeant, one that I believe does not have the same draw backs. Instead, it should 'supercharge' the test subject, improving not only their physical abilities, but emphasising their personality and other personal characteristics." He looked across the table at Snow. "And that is why you are here. I have spent months looking for a suitable candidate, sergeant, and I believe that you are that suitable candidate." Snow opened his mouth to protest, but Gast cut him off. "You are suitable, and not just because of the accomplishments you have on the battlefield, but because of who you are. I've had you watched, and every report I receive is the same. You are a genuinely good, kind, protective person, someone who always tries to do what is right. That is why I chose you."

Snow shook his head. "Maybe, but in case you've forgotten, professor, I'm in a wheelchair. I can't help you."

Gast smiled. "If my procedure works, sergeant, you won't be needing that wheelchair anymore." He leaned forward. "Will you do it?"

Snow bit his lip. "How risky is this procedure?"

"The chances of it succeeding are less than ten percent. The chances of you dying during the procedure are at least fifty per cent," Gast replied.

Snow trembled. He'd gotten used to his lot in life, but the thought of walking again, of being able to make a difference again… "What else is in it for you, professor? There's no way you'd just give me the procedure and then let me go."

"Of course not." Gast met Snow's gaze squarely. "As I have said, I was asked to develop a countermeasure to Hojo's research. If the procedure succeeded, you would be that countermeasure. Not only would you have to remain part of the military so that we could keep track of your development, you would also be asked to take part in missions on a regular basis."

Snow's hands dug into his thighs, but he didn't feel a thing. Slowly, he nodded. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Gast asked. "Think carefully."

Snow nodded again, firmly this time. "I might not have been born a hero, but it sounds like you can make me one. I'll do it."

"Good." Gast smiled. "Get your things together, sergeant. We leave tomorrow morning."

X X X

Snow looked at the large tube and did his best to beat back a shiver. It was at least seven feet tall and four feet wide. In the middle of it was a frame where he would be strapped down, and he could see a host of needles and IV drips just waiting to be put to use. It didn't help much that there was an audience of about twenty people watching the whole thing.

"Are you ready, sergeant?" Gast asked.

Snow looked at the professor. Since Snow's arrival at the facility, the professor had gone over all of the risks. He had given Snow some idea of what to expect, but even he couldn't be entirely sure of what would happen. After all, Snow was the first person they'd tried this on. "I'm as ready as I can be." He tried to smile. "And call me Snow."

Gast smiled back and reached up to adjust his glasses. "Then good luck, Snow. Try to think of something pleasant, and remember, if this works, you'll be up on your feet in no time." He leaned down. "Now, come on, let's get you set up."

Snow reached up and looped one arm over Gast's shoulder. The professor wasn't especially tall or broad of shoulder, but somehow he managed to get Snow up and out of his wheelchair. As they made their way over to the tube, it tilted, turning onto its side so that Snow could be laid flat onto the frame inside.

"You know," Snow said. "It might have been easier to get someone to help you carry me over here. I'm not exactly small."

Gast chuckled and started hooking up the IVs and securing the restraints. "This is my procedure, Snow. You're already taking a big risk in agreeing to be a part of it. The least I can do is get you hooked up to everything." He connected the last of the IVs and tied an oxygen mask onto Snow's face. "Ready?"

Snow nodded. "Ready."

Gast reached over to press a button and then stepped back as the tube closed and moved into an upright position. "Good luck."

Snow took several deep breaths as the tube began to fill with a bright green liquid. It seemed almost to glow, and the moment it touched his skin, he felt a tingle run through him. Moments later, a needle slid into the base of his spine, followed by another and another. He bit his lip and then let out a hiss as fluid began to flow through the IVs. It had begun.

At first it wasn't too bad, but once the tube was full, there was a low hum before the liquid around him began to bubble. All of a sudden, his world became pain. The fluid pouring into his veins felt like molten fire, and his skin burned. He thrashed – or tried to – but the restraints held him in place. The needles in his spine twisted, driving deeper, and he cried out as agony raced along every single nerve in his body.

The world swam before his eyes, lost in a swirl of bubbles. Lights danced along his vision, and the pressure in the tube seemed to grow and grow. He was being crushed, his bones ground into dust. He clenched his fists and tried to ride the pain, but it was too much, far, far too much. His back arched and he screamed as the whole world turned first white and then black, a deep, endless black –

"Snow!"

He opened his eyes to find himself on the floor of the room. Clumsily, he tried to get up, but his body refused to obey. Dimly, he realised that he could feel the coldness of the floor against his legs.

"Snow, can you hear me, are you all right?" It was Gast. The professor helped Snow up onto his hands and knees and draped a towel over him. "Snow?"

Snow shook himself, and spat out a mouthful of vile green liquid. "I'm fine," he muttered. "I'm fine." He swallowed thickly. He was on his hands and knees. And no one was holding him up. "My legs…" he whispered. "My legs… I… I can move them!"

Gast smiled. "Yes, Snow, you can." He helped Snow up onto his feet. "Here, come with me. We'll have to use the wheelchair for now, since you're not used to walking again yet, and the procedure has probably left you feeling a bit weak."

Snow slumped into his wheelchair, his hands going down to squeeze his thighs. He could feel his legs! He could feel them! "It worked," he murmured. He clenched his fists, surprised by the raw strength he now felt flowing through him. "But you're wrong about something, professor. I don't feel weak… I feel better than I have for a long, long time."

X X X

The next month passed by in a blur of rehabilitation and testing. They quickly established that Snow was at least five times stronger than a man his size should be, maybe more. He was faster too, and his reflexes were off the scale. As for his legs, they were as good as new. He spent hours in the facility's gym getting used to walking again, and when he could do that, he ran, and then he ran some more. It made him want to throw his head back and scream with joy. He'd almost forgotten how good it felt to just run around and feel the floor beneath his feet. From there it was a matter of more training, more exercise, until Snow felt even more capable with his legs than before his injury.

And then there was the psychological testing. He spent hours being interviewed, and even longer being subjected to a barrage of psychological attacks. The professionals at the facility did everything they could to get him angry, to make him lose his cool, but he kept calm. He'd always been fairly easygoing, and it seemed like nothing had changed. Gast was especially pleased when he heard about that.

"All of your psychological evaluations have come back – you passed with flying colours." Gast was sitting on a bench off to one side as Snow laid into a punching bag with punches and kicks. He'd broken almost a dozen of them so far, so Gast had ordered this one in. It was five times heavier than usual, and wrapped in shock and tear resistance fabric. "I have to admit, I was relieved. Your physical abilities were easy enough to see, but the psychological side of things is a bit harder to get at."

Snow chuckled and landed a thundering roundhouse kick. "You and me both, professor. I read some of those reports you gave me about Hojo's experiments. It wasn't pleasant reading."

Gast nodded grimly. "Yes, and that's why we're here: to correct his mistakes." He patted the bench beside him. "Take a break, Snow, I'm getting tired just watching you. I've also got some news you might be interested in."

Snow gave the punching bag one last kick and then ambled over to the bench. Rather than sit down, he chose to stand. He'd sat down enough over the past year. "What kind of news?"

Gast reached down for his cup of coffee and took a sip. "As you know, you're going to be sent into the field to carry out missions. Now, we could just send you out the way you are now. After all, you are stronger, faster, and tougher than any normal human being. However, after some discussion with my colleagues, we decided that it would be better to train you more."

"I know how to fight," Snow said.

"True," Gast agreed, "You did receive the standard military training. But that's the problem, Snow. You are no longer a normal soldier. You have the potential to be so much more. That's why we'll be bringing in experts. Hand-to-hand combat, firearms, covert operations, the works – we're going to make you one of the best."

Snow felt a grin slip across his lips. Now, they were talking. He'd always loved training, and there was nothing quite like learning from the best. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything else to do. They'd made it pretty clear that he wouldn't be leaving the facility until they thought he was ready. This training would only help speed that along.

"Sounds good." Snow smiled. "When do we start?"

Gast took a sip of his coffee and then grinned. "How about now?"

Snow had just enough time to blink before the gym doors burst open and a dark clad figure shot toward him. He just barely managed to dodge a punch before a kick caught him in the side and knocked him back. He winced and brought his hands up, ready to defend himself. That kick had hurt.

His attacked paused for a moment and Snow quickly ran his eyes over them. His attacker was dressed in covert operations clothing: black pants, black shirt with flak jacket, black gloves, and a black mask that covered almost all of their face. In fact, the only features he could make out were the person's burgundy eyes and their impressive chest. His eyes narrowed. His attacker was a woman.

"He's got fast reflexes," the woman murmured, voice soft and just slightly husky. "But his technique could use some work."

Snow's brows furrowed as he looked at Gast. "Wait just a second –"

Gast shook his head. "Questions later, Snow. For now, eyes front."

The woman darted forward again, throwing a punch straight at his sternum. He caught the attack in one fist, but before he could do anything else, she used her other hand to punch him in the liver. He winced, and as his grip loosened, she tugged her arm free and jumped up to elbow him in the face. He reeled, hands up to guard against another attack at his head only for her to kick him in the side of the leg. He dropped to one knee and received another elbow in the head for his trouble. Damn, he thought, whoever this woman was, she could hit. Those strikes felt like he'd been hit with a crowbar.

Growling, he got back to his feet, and threw a textbook left jab. The woman slipped away from the punch and he threw an overhand right to try and catch her on the move. Rather than try and dodge the punch, the woman lunged forward, bracing one arm against his before she drove an uppercut right into his chin. He lurched back, seeing stars, and then crashed to the ground as she swept his legs out from under him. He looked up just in time to see a boot headed straight for his head.

He rolled out of the way, coming up onto his hands and knees, but before he could get any further, the woman's right leg whipped out. She kicked him twice, first in the ribs, and then in the side of the head before she launched herself forward and caught him in the chin with her left knee. He skidded across the floor, biting back a curse as he stumbled to his feet. He growled and tried to meet the woman head on as she rushed forward, throwing another punch and then a knee of his own. She ducked the punch and sidestepped his knee before she drove one fist into his gut and then reached for one of his arms and heaved up him over her shoulder.

He hit the ground again and scrambled away. The woman let him go, giving him a chance to get into a fighting stance. His eyes narrowed. Whoever this woman was, she wasn't just strong, or fast. She was skilled, very, very skilled. A little more cautious this time, he attacked using every bit of training he had, along with years of experience. When punches and kicks didn't work, he tried grappling, but she seemed to know every trick in the book. An attempt to pin her down ended up with him on the floor staring up at her just before she kicked him in the stomach hard enough to drive the breath out of his lungs. He staggered to his feet only for her to land an axe kick to his right shoulder that forced him down onto his knees. A second later, he was on the ground again, as she used the leg that was still on his shoulder to throw herself into a perfect flip kick that put her boot on a collision course with his chin. Damn it, if he'd been a normal person, he would have been dead ten times over.

"That's enough," Gast shouted. "Agent Lockhart."

The woman relaxed at once. "Yes, professor." She walked over to Snow, and extended one hand to help him up. "No hard feelings?"

The woman's voice was warm and friendly, and she seemed genuinely apologetic about beating him like a drum for the better part of ten minutes. "Of course not – as long as you teach me how to fight like that."

Gast chuckled. "Actually, Snow, that's why she's here. Agent Lockhart is one of the world's premier hand-to-hand combat specialists. From now on she will be your instructor in all things combat related." He came over to pat Snow on the shoulder. "As you can see, being strong or fast or tough isn't enough. You need to be skilled, and one way or another, Agent Lockhart is going to make sure you are."

Agent Lockhart rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Professor, give Snow a little credit. He did better than most people do." She glanced back at Snow. "Get some rest. We're starting tomorrow."

X X X

Training with Agent Lockhart was an interest experience, to say the least. After the beating she'd given him the first time, Snow had simply expected more of the same. However, he got quite the opposite. Agent Lockhart turned up the next day in sneakers, tracksuit pants, and a t-shirt. Without her mask on, Snow was able to appreciate the fact that Agent Lockhart wasn't just pretty – she was beautiful. Her features were soft, almost gentle, but there was a subtle strength there as well, visible now and then in the determined set of her jaw, and the confident way she held herself. Her hair, when it was untied, fell down her back in a long, dark tide. However, it was her eyes that really drew his attention. Outside of sparring, they were always kind, filled with the same warm humour that infused her voice whenever she spoke. During sparring, however, it was a very different story. Her eyes were deadly serious then, not to mention inscrutable and almost cold.

"You've already learned a bit about how to fight," Agent Lockhart said as she led him over to the middle of the gym. "The basic training you received when you joined the military involves a certain level of hand-to-hand fighting, and I could tell from our earlier fight that you've learned a few things on the street as well." She grinned. "My job is to take you past all of that. I'm going to filter out all the junk and make sure that you learn what you need to fight anybody anywhere." She paused. "You're fast, you're strong, and you're tough. That makes you dangerous. I'm going to give you skill on top of all of that. That's going to make you deadly."

Snow nodded eagerly. "Bring it on."

And she did. She started by drilling the basics into him. Every single error in how he threw a punch, a kick, an elbow, or a knee was pointed out and corrected. It didn't matter if it took hours, or hundreds of repetitions, he would fix the problem, and if he didn't, she would mercilessly exploit it in sparring until he did. But it wasn't just striking she fixed. She taught him how to stand, how to block, how to grapple. He'd learned the basics, but only enough to make them functional. She taught him the how and the why and then beat the lessons into him one sparring session at a time. For instance, he hadn't even realised that he had a tendency to drop his left hand after throwing a jab rather than bringing it back to his chin. Well, she made him realise – by kicking him in the head every single time.

At the same time, he was amazed by how quickly he learned everything. Agent Lockhart said that it was probably a side effect of Gast's procedure. Whatever it was, he felt like a sponge, soaking up all the knowledge that Agent Lockhart had to offer. And she had a lot of knowledge. From what he'd seen, she'd mastered dozens of styles, and combined them into something that was altogether new, a unique style of fighting that was at once incredibly graceful and disturbingly effective.

Even more impressive, however, was how quickly she'd begun to tailor her training specifically to him. They were very different, and rather than trying to make him fight exactly like she did, she taught him how to use his own advantages: his size, his strength, his speed, and his toughness. By the time she was done, he would have his own style, something designed just for him.

As the weeks passed, he came to both love and hate the training sessions that went on for hours as she drilled technique after technique into him before dragging him onto the sparring mats to make sure he could use what he'd learned. It was almost funny how much better she was than him. No matter how hard he tried, he could hardly ever hit her, and it was only when she brought in other sparring partners that he truly realised how much progress he had made. He beat all of them, easily, and not just because he was stronger or faster than they were. He'd been able to read their attacks, to predict what they could do, and then respond accordingly. He wasn't just throwing punches and kicks anymore, he was stringing together combinations and forcing his opponent to leave openings, ones that he knew he could use to end the fight. When he got hit, he no longer reacted rashly. Instead, he learned when to cover up, when to give ground, and when to retaliate.

Still, it took a little over three months before he managed to land a decent blow on Agent Lockhart. He felt bad about it for roughly three seconds, which was how much time it took for her to punch him in the face and then kick him into a wall without enough force to rattle his teeth.

Throughout it all, Agent Lockhart treated him with a warmth that he found reassuring. He wasn't sure if they were friends, but he liked to think they were. When they weren't training, they would often sit outside, drink bottles in hand, and just talk. Of course, she wasn't allowed to say too much about herself, but she seemed happy enough to talk about anything else. She had a good sense of humour – when she wasn't beating him up – and she didn't seem to mind listening when he talked about some of the worries he had.

As he got better at hand-to-hand combat, Agent Lockhart expanded his training. It wasn't enough for her that he could hold his own in unarmed combat. His opponents would often be armed, so it made sense to shore up his training in that respect too.

Just like he'd already known how to fight, he already knew how to shoot a gun. But Agent Lockhart taught him more, she taught him how to move, how to use cover, how to use each shot as efficiently as possible. A combination of luck, guts, and determination had won him his commendations for valour – she made sure that the next time, he'd only need to rely on his skill. When he grew comfortable with one weapon, she gave him another until he felt confident with dozens of firearms. It made him wonder just who exactly she was.

More months passed, and Gast brought in other specialists to teach him about surveillance, about covert operations, and even about improvising weapons like explosives. He learned a lot from all of the specialists, but always it was Agent Lockhart who helped him piece it all together, who helped him see how all of the disparate pieces could be put together into a single deadly whole.

X X X

A little over a year had passed since Snow had undergone the procedure. He had spent that whole time at the facility learning everything that he could. Recently, however, Gast had told him that he was almost ready. Soon, he would be leaving the facility and going on missions. He was going to start making a difference.

It was the thought of leaving the facility that finally got him to ask Agent Lockhart about her past again. To his surprise, she didn't immediately say no.

"Ask," Agent Lockhart murmured. The two of them were sitting outside watching the clouds after another training sessions. "But remember, there's only so much I can tell you."

"Who are you?" Snow asked.

Agent Lockhart chuckled softly and brushed back a lock of her dark hair. "You're very blunt, Snow, although I have to admit, I kind of like that." She smiled wistfully at his puzzled look. "You see, there's another blonde with blue eyes that I happen to know who is the complete opposite. He's strong, Snow, but he likes to keep things to himself, maybe a little too much."

"Okay…" Snow shrugged.

She laughed again. "All right, I've got clearance to tell you a few things. As you might have guessed, I'm not exactly a normal person. I'm a member of a special operations team called AVALANCHE. Amongst other things, we help clean up some of the mess that Hojo left behind."

"So that's why you disappear sometimes," Snow mused. "But how are you so strong and fast? I thought I was the first person they used this procedure on."

"You are," Agent Lockhart said. "The thing is, I've been learning how to fight my whole life. When I was a child, I met a man named Zangan." She smiled. "Don't worry if you don't recognise the name. Trust me, he was a genius, one of the greatest martial artists in history, and I was lucky enough to be his final student. He knew things that, well, science still can't quite explain."

That piqued Snow's interest. "Like what?"

Agent Lockhart grinned. "Watch." She walked over to a patch of grass and lifted one hand. For a split-second, the air around her fist seemed to shimmer before she drove her hand into the ground. The result was a crater several feet wide. "What do you think?"

"How did you do that?" Snow breathed.

"Zangan believed in the existence in some kind of spiritual energy that could be honed and accessed through rigorous training and meditation." Agent Lockhart moved back over to Snow. "It took me years to understand what he was talking about, but as you can see, it works."

"Professor Gast must find that pretty interesting," Snow said.

"He does." Agent Lockhart chuckled. "But he still can't understand how it works. It drives him crazy." She smiled. "Now, that's enough questions. Time to do some more sparring."

Two weeks later, Snow finally got the news he'd been waiting for.

"Snow," Gast said. "Today, you'll be going out on your first mission."

Snow nodded. "Good." He looked around the lab that Gast had called him to. It seemed to be empty except for the two of them. "What sort of mission is it?"

"We'll get to that in a moment." Gast grinned, and pressed a button on the wall next to him. The wall opened up revealing a costume of some sort.

Snow stared. "What is that for?"

Gast's grin widened. "It's for you. Since you are part of a top-secret operation, we do need to take some steps to hide your identity from the general public." He waved at the costume. "What do you think?"

Snow looked at the costume again. It would cover his entire body except for his nose, mouth and eyes. Colour-wise, almost the entire thing was white, although there were black boots and gloves, along with grey stripes along the torso. The part that would cover his head was also grey.

"It looks ridiculous." Snow winced. "Really ridiculous."

Gast just chuckled. "Well, if it helps, it's made out of a bullet proof fabric that is also designed to withstand blows from knives and other edged weapons." He paused. "It's also fireproof and able to insulate you from extreme changes in temperature."

"Well, that sounds pretty good," Snow said. "But did it have to look like… like that?" He looked more closely at the head of the costume and winced. There were little white wings emblazoned on the side for crying out loud.

Gast shrugged. "Well, I was the one who designed the fabric. The actual look of the thing came from somewhere else." His lips twitched. "We've decided to pass you off as a new superhero, Snow. Apart from undertaking missions with teams from the military, we also want to see how you work with civilians. Being a superhero should help with that."

Snow's eyes narrowed. "I don't suppose you might have mentioned anything to your colleagues about what we talked about in your office, professor?"

"About you wanting to be a superhero when you were a kid?" Gast smiled innocently. "No."

"Fine." Snow sighed. "What's my superhero name?"

"Well, we were a little stuck for the name." Gast gave Snow a pat on the back. "But since you'll be helping to keep Cocoon safe, we thought we'd go with Captain Cocoon."

Snow groaned. "Seriously? You couldn't come have come up with anything better?"

"Not really." Gast reached for something on the wall beside the costume and handed it over to Snow. It was a circular shield with an intricate symbol in the middle. "This is yours too, take it."

"Why a shield?" Snow asked as he took the shield. It felt good in his left hand, sturdy but light.

"The shield is one of my finest works," Gast said. "It's practically unbreakable and all but immune to energy-based attacks. If you're going to go up against some of Hojo's creations, you'll need something like it." His expression grew serious. "And it's a symbol too. Hojo designed weapons, Snow, things that killed. You're going to be different. You're going to be the shield that protects the innocent people of Cocoon from all the mistakes that we've made."

Snow stared at the shield for a moment longer and then looked at the costume. "It doesn't sound that bad when you put it like that."

Gast nodded. "Good, now change."

Fifteen minutes later, and Snow was ready. Just how they'd gotten the costume to fit so well, he didn't want to know. "So, what's my mission?"

Gast went over to a table and pressed several buttons on his computer. An image appeared on the screen at the front of the lab. "A special operations team has reported trouble near a place called the Hanging Edge. Based on their reports, they may have spotted some of Hojo's creations. Your task will be to assist them in either apprehending or eliminating the threats."

"And after that?" Snow asked. "Will I be coming back here?"

Gast shook his head. "No. Based on Agent Lockhart's reports, we believe that you are now ready to leave the facility. We've had an apartment rented for you in Eden City."

"Why Eden City?" Snow frowned. "And what about my training with Agent Lockhart?"

"There is a facility in Eden City that will be able to continue monitoring your progress. In addition, Eden City is centrally located, which will make it easier to deploy you anywhere in the country." Gast glanced at the door. "And as for Agent Lockhart, you can ask her yourself."

Snow looked toward the door. Agent Lockhart was standing there, dressed in her full covert operations uniform.

"I've taught you as much as I can," Agent Lockhart said. "Everything else you have to learn in the field." She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket.

"What's this?" Snow asked. There was an address on it, along with a phone number.

"That's the address of a bar called 7th Heaven. You'll find it in Midgar City. Stop by some time, or if not, call." She chuckled at the look of surprise on his face. "Don't look so surprised, I don't spend all my time fighting evil, and I do need somewhere to live." She turned. "Good luck, Snow. I'd go with you, but, I've a mission of my own to worry about."

"Wait!" he shouted. "What's your real name?"

She stopped for a moment and then looked over her shoulder. "Tifa Lockhart. And Snow, I mean it. If you need someone to talk to, or if you just want someone to come over and beat you up, give me a call. After all, what are friends for?"

He laughed. "That's right. What are friends for? Take care, Agent Lockhart – I mean… Tifa." He watched her leave and then turned back to Gast. "So, what's the name of this team that I'll be helping?"

Gast looked down at his computer for a moment. "NORA. The team's name is NORA."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy nor am I making any money off of this.

Well, I had to get around to Snow eventually. It took me a while to settle down on my approach, and I actually ended up discarding my first draft entirely since it was pretty much one big train wreck. That said I'm reasonably happy with the way this turned out.

Snow's character is loosely based on Captain America (especially the more recent movie version of Captain America). What I've always liked about Snow is that despite his occasional (or not so occasional) lapses into somewhat goofy behaviour, he has a good heart, and the guts to stand up for what he believes is right. That's one of the things that separates Captain America from a host of other superheroes – that quintessential goodness and willingness to fight for what is right, even if seems impossible. In the movie, Captain America starts off as a scrawny young man who undergoes a radical transformation into a superhero. I didn't want to go quite that far because there are a number of problems with that approach (e.g., how does he get so awesome at fighting?), so I decided to make Snow a wounded soldier, someone who already has a foundation to build upon.

And speaking of foundations, I wasn't sure about whom I should pick to help turn Snow from a regular soldier into Captain Cocoon. At first, I thought I might go with Fujin who has done a pretty good job of training Vanille (in _Whispers of the Gods)_, but I wanted to avoid too much crossover between my stories idea wise. I also realised that Fujin's personality really wouldn't fit that well with Snow. She'd probably just strangle him or something. Apart from Fujin, however, Tifa is one of the Final Fantasy characters who really excels in unarmed combat. In addition, she also has just the right mixture of warmth and strength that I think Snow would really respond well too. It doesn't hurt that she's also just all around awesome (definitely one of my favourite Final Fantasy characters of all time). As for which superhero Tifa is based on, in my head she's sort of a mash up between Iron Fist and Black Widow (both from Marvel Comics), but with a distinct twist in personality to stay true to her character. Really, there's a part of me that just can't wait to drag some more characters from AVALANCHE into things (I'm thinking Yuffie and Vincent, in particular).

The choice of Gast was actually one of the easier decisions I had to make. Hojo is a great villain, and Gast's views on science (and basic morality) are diametrically opposed to his. This Gast, however, is not as naïve as the one in Final Fantasy VII. He is not going to let Hojo go about unchecked, and he is not about to let people take research he had a part in and use it for their own evil ends.

Finally, for those of you who weren't aware, Tifa, Hojo, Gast, and Sephiroth are all from Final Fantasy VII. Snow, of course, is from Final Fantasy XIII.

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	5. Chapter 5

**Once A Hero, Always a Hero**

Sazh sighed and stifled the urge to bang his head on the wall of the elevator. Not only would it hurt, it wouldn't change a damn thing. It had been years since Katzroy Industries manufactured weapons, but some members on the board refused to back off and let matters rest.

His lips curled. In a way, he could understand their enthusiasm. Making weapons was a lucrative business, and even a single military contract could be worth billions. But it wasn't something he wanted to be involved in, not anymore. He'd seen firsthand the misery his weapons could create, and he'd be damned before he let them fall into the wrong hands. Besides, he had a family to think about now. The absolute last thing he wanted was for his son to think poorly of him, and his wife had already made her feelings on the subject very clear. Unless he wanted to spend the rest of his life on the couch, Katzroy Industries was no longer in the business of ending lives. Now, it was in the business of improving them.

The elevator slowed to a stop, and as the doors opened, he straightened out his suit. He needed to stop worrying. He had the final say in what projects the company pursued, and with the meeting out of the way, he had the rest of the day ahead of him – a day he'd carefully scheduled to give him as much time as he needed to goof off. After all, running one of the largest companies in the world was pretty tiring work.

However, his good mood faded as he stepped out of the elevator and wandered through the floor that served as his personal office and workshop. Sitting behind the desk, and looking like she had every right to be there, was someone whose very presence meant trouble. His eyes narrowed. She even had the gall to drink coffee out of his favourite mug, a gift from Dajh that proudly proclaimed him the 'Greatest Daddy in the Universe'.

"Yuffie Kisaragi," Sazh growled. "Do I even want to know what you're doing here?"

Yuffie grinned and waved her mug of coffee in Sazh's direction. How the ninja managed not to spill any of it, he had no idea. "Morning, Sazh. Long time no see." And then, just because she could, she swung her legs up to prop her feet up on his desk. "Happy to see me?"

"Get your feet off my desk." Sazh stomped over to the desk and glared down at teenager. To his utter disgust, she seemed entirely unaffected. He sighed and pushed her feet off his desk. "And what's with your clothes?"

Yuffie gave him a sunny smile, folded her arms behind her head, and put her feet back on his desk. He scowled. He could try and wrestle her out of the chair, but they both knew that despite the substantial difference in size, he couldn't lay a finger on her in unarmed combat. "Let's just say I felt like a change."

"Really?" The last time Sazh had seen her, Yuffie had been gallivanting around in short shorts and a stomach-exposing shirt. Not exactly the best clothing for saving the world, and he'd been hard pressed not to throw a jacket over her along with some tracksuit pants. Children – and she'd been a child, no matter how good she was at all that ninja mumbo jumbo – should not be dressing like that. Right now, however, she was wearing a high quality black suit, complete with matching shoes. For some reason, however, the suit seemed to be a little poorly fitted.

"You like?" Yuffie gave her clothing a pat and shot him what he assumed was supposed to pass for a serious look. "Gast though it would be better if I tried to make a good impression when I dropped by, so I borrowed one of Tifa's suits." She gestured at the suit. "I probably should have gotten one of my own though. Tifa's taller than me and well…" She glanced down at her chest and winced. "Yeah."

Sazh followed her gaze and sniggered. There was another – very obvious – difference between Yuffie and Tifa, and it had nothing to do with their height.

"Damn it, stop laughing!" Yuffie cried.

Sazh put one hand over his mouth and tried his best to look serious. "Don't beat yourself up, Yuffie. I don't think there's too many women who can match Tifa in that department." He pretended to take a closer look. "Still… it's like you haven't grown at all."

Yuffie's eyes narrowed, and Sazh blinked as several shuriken whipped past his head. Great, she was even faster than he remembered. "Now that's just rude. I'll have you know, I've grown plenty in that department." She reached for her shirt. "How about I show you?"

Sazh blanched and turned around. "No, I'll take your word for it." He turned back to face her. "Not to mention that Lahna would kill me if she even thought I'd looked at someone else."

Yuffie chuckled. "Well, it would serve you right. No one makes fun of the great, sexy ninja Yuffie and lives to tell the tale." Sazh twitched. It had been bad enough when she was the great ninja Yuffie. Now, apparently, she was the great, sexy ninja Yuffie. "Anyway, how is married life treating you? Lahna still bossing you around?"

"She does not boss me around," Sazh muttered. Yuffie just stared. He stared back. Damn it. "Fine, maybe she does a little, but I'm happy. I've got a nice family, more than enough money, and apart from the occasional board meeting, my life is relatively stress free." He glared at Yuffie. "Although I don't know how much longer that's going to be true."

Yuffie put up both hands. "Hey, don't blame me, I come in peace. No shooting the messenger and all that."

Sazh grabbed a chair and pulled it over to his desk. "So, why are you here, Yuffie? And why exactly did they send you of all people?"

Yuffie took another sip of her coffee. There was nothing like a nice, big jolt of caffeine in the morning, never mind what everyone else in AVALANCHE thought of her becoming even more hyper. They were just jealous they couldn't be as energetic as her, especially Vincent that creepy vampire. Or maybe he wasn't entirely creepy – he was actually kind of handsome all things considered – but he sure moped a lot. Maybe she should spike his tea with caffeine, or maybe a shot of vodka. Heh. Drunk Vincent, she'd pay to see that.

"Yuffie," Sazh growled. "Are you even listening?"

Yuffie shook herself. "Well, the professor did try calling you Sazh, and that didn't exactly work out too well. And as for why me in particular, well, there really wasn't much choice." Sazh was about to reply, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Yes, I know we could have sent Tifa what with her being the sanest one out of all of us, but she's busy right now. Guard duty, I think."

"Oh?" That was interesting. Tifa was too valuable an agent to assign to just anyone. "Mind telling me who?"

Yuffie shrugged. "Consider this an act of good faith and all that." She grinned. "She's watching Aerith."

"Gast's daughter?" Sazh frowned. "Why?"

"No idea." Yuffie had another sip of coffee. "But you know how it is. He gets quite a bit of say when it comes to our assignments, and what father wouldn't want Tifa Lockhart watching over their daughter? If someone even looks at Aerith funny, Tifa could just put them through a wall." She went to take another sip of her coffee and then frowned. The mug was empty. Oh well, she could always pour herself some more. Ignoring Sazh's incredulous look, she poured herself another mug of coffee. "And as for why me, there's only three people in AVALANCHE that can get past all of your security, since you've been refusing all of our attempts to make an appointment. There's Tifa, there's me, and then there's Vincent. So, Sazh, would you rather have me dropping by, or would you rather have Mister Tall Dark and Depressing?"

Sazh made a face. "When you put it like that…" As aggravating as the ninja in front of him could be, she was actually quite personable. Vincent, however, was far from ideal company, although her was definitely someone that Sazh respected. "Fine, I get it. Now, come on, why are you here? I know this isn't a social call."

Yuffie sobered slightly, although that didn't stop her from taking a sip of coffee. "You're right, this isn't a social call." She slid a data recorder across the desk to Sazh. "Take a look at this."

Sazh attached the data recorder to a special display unit built into his desk. A moment later, the air over the desk shimmered as a host of images appeared. "So, what exactly am I looking at here?"

Yuffie pointed at one of the images and it expanded to fill the space over the table. "As you know, Hojo is a teensy, little bit crazy." Sazh rolled his eyes. Talk about an understatement. Hojo had long since crossed the line from crazy to demented super villain. "Still, crazy as he is, he's damn good at what he does." The image shifted to show something that vaguely resembled a dragon, or would have if it weren't for the advanced weaponry sticking out of it. "But that thing is something new. Local police stumbled across one of Hojo's labs hidden near a small village in the Nibelheim mountains." She made a disgusted sound. "They found it after someone filed a noise complaint – a damn noise complaint – and we'd been looking for it for months. Long story short, that thing got loose and made quick work of the police before it decided to go after the local civilian population."

"I'm guessing you stopped it," Sazh said grimly. He gestured and the image became a video, a very gory, very graphic video.

"Yeah, we did." Yuffie glanced at the video. "But as you can see, it made quite a mess." She frowned. "It was strong, Sazh, and fast, and that weaponry built into it was damn powerful. And that's the thing that really bothers us. Hojo has always been a genius when it comes to genetic alteration and mako usage, but the kind of weaponry that thing had, well, he's never shown proficiency at developing that kind of stuff before." She paused. "So either he's learned some new tricks – and that's scary enough – or he's got outside help. The other thing is… some of that weaponry was a lot like –"

"The weaponry my armour uses, right?" Sazh felt a headache coming on. Four years ago, he'd retired from the hero business. As the Steel Soldier, he'd been one of the world's most famous heroes, renowned for using a highly advanced suit of armour that allowed him to stand toe-to-toe with some of the most powerful beings on the planet. He'd kept his real identity secret to protect his family, but somehow that secret had been compromised. In the resulting debacle, his wife had nearly been killed. He'd retired not long after that. Risking his own life was one thing, but he refused to risk the safety of his family. "That's what you were going to say, isn't it?"

Yuffie sighed. "Yes, that's right." She must have read the troubled look in his eyes, because she gave him one of her sunny smiles. "Look, no one is blaming you, and if anyone does, just let me know and I'll send a shuriken their way. But the professor wants you to come in and take a look. He's smart and everything, but weapons have always been more your thing."

"He wants me to come in and have a look?" Sazh laughed softly. "I have a hard time believing that's all he wants."

Yuffie nodded. "That's all."

"So, he's not the least bit interested in my armour?" Sazh had to force the anger back. Gast was a good man, but good men could make bad decisions. There was too much risk in sharing the design of his armour. If the wrong people ever got their hands on it…

"I won't say no," Yuffie replied. "Heck, even I'm interested in how that armour of yours works, but no, he won't be trying to get the design off you, and he's not interested in putting you back in the line of fire even though we could use the help. He just wants you to come in and give us a hand with the analysis, that's all."

"And after I do that?" Sazh asked.

Yuffie shrugged. "Then we all go out and get some shawarma." Sazh rolled his eyes. "Once you're done, we'll be out of your hair – which is quite nice by the way – and we can all be on our merry way. No muss, no fuss."

"You don't really think it's going to be that simple, do you?" Sazh asked.

"Well, no. Knowing our luck there will probably be some kind of horrible catastrophe or something, but I can dream." Yuffie gave him a serious look. "Look, we don't want this sort of technology becoming widespread. Take the rest of the day to think it over, have a look at the rest of the files. If you want to come, then just give me a call." She tossed a business card at Sazh. "I'm staying at that hotel right over the Eden City Grand Casino." She smirked. "No reason I can't make a few gil while I'm here."

Sazh looked at the business card and bit back a smile. Apart from a phone number, it had Yuffie listed down as 'The Amazing Ninja, Yuffie – The Greatest, Sexiest Ninja in the Whole Damn World.' "I'll think about it."

Just then, the elevator chimed, and they both looked over to see Lahna and Dajh step out of the elevator. The dark-skinned woman took one look at the two of them and frowned. Sazh winced. This was not going to be pretty.

"Hey, how are you doing, Mrs K?" Yuffie asked with a smile.

Lahna gave Yuffie a sharp look. "A girl your age should know better than to put her feet up on a table." She glanced at the coffee. "And you shouldn't drink so much coffee. It will stunt your growth."

Yuffie twitched and struggled to keep her smile in place. "I'll try to keep that in mind." She looked at Dajh. "It's been a while, kiddo."

Dajh stared and then moved to stand behind his mother. Yuffie had to fight the urge not to squeal. That was just too damn cute. With a grin plastered on her lips, she launched herself out of her chair and up over the table. She twisted through the air, spinning with a grace that only a handful of people in the world could match, and then landed with a flourish just in front of the boy. His eyes widened in wonder.

"Hmm… it looks like you don't remember me, but then again, it has been four years since we last met." Yuffie saw Lahna's expression soften slightly and bit back a grin. Heh. Being awesome with kids had its advantages. "Your name is Dajh, right?" The boy nodded. "And it's your birthday soon too, isn't it?"

Dajh nodded again. "Next week."

Yuffie smiled and suddenly there was a pack of cards in her hands. She flipped them back and forth before fanning them out in her hands. "Pick a card, Dajh, any card."

Dajh picked a card. "It's a –"

"Don't tell me what it is," Yuffie said. "Now, tell me, do you like video games?" Dajh smiled and nodded. "Good, now hide your card behind your back." Dajh did. "Tell me, is your favourite video game that new one about Blitzball?"

"How did you know that?" Dajh breathed. Frankly, Sazh wanted to know that too. Had someone been spying on his family?

Yuffie grinned. "I know magic."

"Really?" Dajh's eyes widened. "For real?"

Yuffie nodded sagely. "As a matter of fact, everyone usually calls me the Great Ninja Yuffie." She smirked. "Remember the card you picked? I bet I can tell you what it was. Was it a…" Yuffie paused dramatically. "A king of spades?"

Dajh shook his head. "No."

"Really?" Yuffie seemed surprised. "Are you sure?'

"I'm sure," Dajh said, pulling the card from behind his back. "It was a –" He stopped short, and stared at the video game that was now in his hands instead of the card. It was the new Blitzball game! "How did you do that?"

Yuffie grinned and put one finger over her lips. "It's a ninja secret, Dajh. For a ninja as awesome as me, stuff like that is too easy."

Dajh nodded slowly, eyes still wide with awe, and Yuffie gave his hair a quick ruffle before she headed toward the elevator. "Think over what we talked about, Sazh. Give me a call tomorrow morning once you've decided."

Sazh looked from his son, who was staring at the ninja in absolute awe, to Yuffie. "Fine, but how did you get past all of my security?"

"Oh that?" Yuffie grinned and stepped into the elevator. "Trade secret, but don't worry. There's exactly one person in the world who could have done it the way I did, and you're looking at her."

Sazh bit back a curse. Damn ninjas.

X X X

"You're going with her, aren't you?" Lahna murmured.

Sazh looked over at his wife. She was lying down on their bed, her eyes filled with something that was equal parts anger and sadness. He looked away from the files he'd been viewing and nodded.

"I think I have to. If these files are accurate, they need to get a handle on this as soon as possible." Sazh's fists clenched. The files had been very, very graphic, which was why he'd viewed them on a private computer monitor with earphones rather than out in the open. The dragon had killed more than a hundred people before AVALANCHE had been able to put it down, and even then it hadn't been easy. "And they just want a little help with some analysis, that's all."

Lahna's hands tightened around the blanket. "Is that where it stops though?"

Sazh sighed wearily. Four years ago, someone had managed to learn that he was the Steel Soldier. They'd gone after his family, and it had been a mix of dumb luck and unbelievable effort that had allowed him to apprehend the culprits and protect his family before the information spread any further. Had things gone even a little differently, he would have lost Lahna.

After that, he'd retired, although he'd kept working on his armour. The technology in the armour was the same technology that helped keep him alive despite the injuries he'd suffered years previously during a tour of duty as a soldier. However, that had been the end of his hero days. He wanted to help others, but he refused to let his family suffer because of that. Maybe it was selfish, but that was how he felt.

"You and Dajh come first," Sazh said quietly. "If they ask me to do anything that puts you two at risk, I'll walk away. It's as simple as that."

Lahna nodded. She was angry with him for getting dragged back into all of this, he could tell, but she was angry with herself too. "I know you miss it – being a hero – and sometimes I wonder if I'm not being selfish asking you to stay out of things. What happened wasn't that bad and maybe, maybe you could get it to work."

"Not that bad?" Sazh yelled. His wife flinched and he took a deep breath. He went over to the bed and sat at the edge of it. "You almost died, Lahna. If I'd been even a few seconds slower, you would have." He shook his head. "I can't lose you or Dajh, and there are plenty of people who can be heroes. Heck, did you ever think we'd see anybody like Captain Cocoon?"

Lahna laughed softly and took his hands in hers. "As long as you're comfortable with the choices you've made." She smiled. "But you better be back in time for Dajh's birthday, Sazh, otherwise you're in trouble." She gave him a mock scowl.

Sazh nodded. There was the bossiness he was used to seeing. "Don't worry, it shouldn't take more than a few days." He grinned. "Do I get a going away present?"

"A going away present?" Lahna rolled her eyes. "What are you, a kid?"

Sazh grinned and leaned over her, pressing her down onto the bed. "Well, I do like to think I'm young at heart."

X X X

"I knew you'd see things my way," Yuffie said with a smirk. Instead of a suit, she was wearing a pair of shorts and a jacket.

Normally, Sazh would have fired back with a comment of his own, but he'd had a very pleasant night. He could be a little indulgent. "Come on, let's just get this over with."

Yuffie skipped toward the waiting jet and then stopped. "Wait… I know that look. Someone must have had a very good night." She darted over to him and draped one arm around his neck. "So… how was it?"

"What?" Sazh squawked. "You're too young to be asking about things like that." He frowned. "And what would you know anyway?"

Yuffie smirked. "I turned eighteen not too long ago, so I'm one hundred percent legal now." She made a face. "And maybe I do know a little." Her expression darkened. She'd probably know a lot more if Vinnie didn't keep scaring everyone off. Seriously, he was acting like an older brother or something, only older brothers didn't stare at their little sisters the way he sometimes stared at her. Heh. One of these days, she'd get sick of waiting for him to wise up and just jump him.

Sazh scowled. "I want names and addresses, Yuffie. If someone touched you, I want to know so that I can make them dead."

"Geeze." Yuffie laughed as they climbed into the jet. "Just like old times, huh?" Honestly, what was with all the interest in her sex life? On the few occasions when Vincent wasn't busy scaring everyone off, the rest of AVALANCHE had been more than happy to take his place. Heck, even Cloud had gotten in on the whole frightening potential suitors away deal.

X X X

By the time the jet finally touched down at the research facility, Sazh had seriously begun to consider busting open one of the emergency doors open so that he could throw Yuffie out of the jet. Perhaps the only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that the ninja could teleport over short distances, which meant that she'd just find her way back in. Still, after several hours of being interrogated on every aspect of his life, along with being forced to listen to her recount countless anecdotes of the pranks – she called them 'bonding exercises – that she inflicted on AVALANCHE, he was willing to give almost anything a try.

As soon as they landed, several agents came to escort Sazh to his quarters. They were also kind enough to take the luggage he'd brought, although he insisted on carrying one particular suitcase himself. Even if he didn't think he'd need it, and even if he didn't want to use it, he'd brought his armour. AVALANCHE just had a way of drawing trouble, and he was not about to get killed because he was unprepared. Once he had everything organised in his quarters, he and Yuffie headed for one of the main research labs.

The lab itself was enormous and protected by several layers of security. However, all of that paled into insignificance beside what the lab actually contained. The dragon was laid out across the lab, its entire form supported by an intricate combination of raised platforms and cables. All up, the thing must have been the better part of a hundred feet long, maybe more. It had been cut open for dissection, and some of the weapons that had been imbedded in its body had already been removed. Examining it were a small cadre of scientists led by Professor Gast. Not far away were the rest of AVALANCHE, Tifa excluded.

"It's been a while," Sazh murmured as the rest of AVALANCHE caught sight of him.

"What do you know, the kid brought him back." Barret stepped forward, and extended one large hand. "How're you doing?"

"Pretty well." Sazh shook Barret's hand and glanced at his artificial arm. He'd helped build it. "How's the arm treating you?"

"Not bad." Barret grinned. "Since you're here, do you think that maybe you could –"

"Hey, leave the requests till later," Yuffie said, dragging Sazh off. "We've got work to do."

"Quit being a brat," Barret growled. "I was just going to ask. He didn't have to do it right away."

Sazh ignored the bickering pair and glanced at the others. Both Cloud and Vincent were content to greet him with a silent nod. He smiled faintly. Maker, those two hadn't changed a bit.

Cid came over and pried Yuffie's hand off Sazh's arm, much to the ninja's aggravation. "Just like old times, right?" Cid asked.

Sazh nose wrinkled. "Still smoking, I see."

"Only when I'm not around Shera." Cid grinned. "Besides, I figure long term consequences aren't something I need to worry about in my line of work."

"You tell Shera that?" Sazh had heard about Cid's wedding, though he hadn't been able to attend.

Cid made a face. "No, and I'd appreciate it if you don't say anything to her either." He sighed. "If it's not about my smoking it's about my cursing. Sometimes I wonder why I married her."

Sazh rolled his eyes. "Because you love her."

"Yeah," Cid chuckled. "There's that." He glanced away as Gast headed toward them. "Sorry about you getting called in like this." He gave Sazh a serious look. "I haven't forgotten what happened four years ago."

"Thanks." Sazh turned to face Gast. "Gast."

"Sazh."

The two of them took a moment to size each other up. Just looking at Gast, Sazh wouldn't know that he'd spent most of his time recently cleaning up all the messes that Hojo had left behind. That said a lot about how tough the man had become.

Gast's lips twitched. "It's been a while." He extended one hand. "We should talk more often – and not about work."

Sazh's chuckled, and he reached out to shake Gast's hand. It was easy to forget sometimes that he and Gast had been friends, good ones, before the disaster of four years ago. "I'd like that. Now, what have you got for me?"

Gast smiled, glad to be on more familiar ground. Their friendship – what was left of it – was fragile at best. "The dragon – at least, that's what we're calling it – appears to be a genetic mutation created by the infusion of high levels of mako into a pre-existing specimen." He frowned. "The specimen itself was probably created by splicing together the gene sequences of several species. Certainly, I've never seen anything quite like this creature before."

Sazh nodded grimly. Neither had he. "That sounds about right for Hojo." He walked over to the dragon. The smell wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expect, but it had probably been chemically treated to slow decay. "What was it like in combat? The videos were a little hard to follow at points." They were also very bloody.

"Like most subjects that actually survived mako infusion, it demonstrated unusual strength and speed for something of its size." Gast looked at Cloud. "Cloud can probably explain it better than me."

Sazh listened intently as Cloud recounted the battle. Despite his less than stellar interpersonal skills, the younger man had an excellent eye for detail when it came to combat, and his proficiency with swords was unquestioned. If anyone knew how to size up the creature's abilities, it would be Cloud, and the picture he painted was bleak. The dragon had been fast, agile, and enormously strong. But what had made it especially dangerous was its ability to multi-task. It had been able to assign different targets to its claws, teeth, and weapons, allowing it to negate AVALANCHE's advantage in numbers.

"Sounds nasty," Sazh murmured as Cloud finished. "But I want to take a closer look at some of those weapons. Yuffie said some… troubling things."

Gast gave Yuffie a look. The ninja just smiled back, and he pointed at some of the weapons they'd removed from the dragon's body. "Over there."

Sazh studied the weapons intently, ordering the scientists about like they were his employees. They were well aware of who he was, and after a nod from Gast, they hastened to follow his instructions. His findings were not the least bit pleasing. "What you're looking at are essentially highly advanced energy weapons." He pointed at one of the weapons. "This one is basically a heat ray, but incredibly focused, well in advance of what should be possible, although it bears some similarity to some old designs I turned in before things changed." He frowned and pointed at another weapon. "And as for this one, it's a high level electrical discharge array – a lightning gun." He winced. "They're both really nasty, and both top of the line, but what bothers me is the amount of energy they take. Normally, if you had something like these, you'd need something bigger than a tank to fire just one, and this dragon thing has more than a dozen." He looked at Gast. "So, my question is, what's this thing's energy source?"

Gast glanced at the other scientists and they filed out of the room. "Actually, that's the main thing I called you about, because it's something only you can really confirm." He led Sazh to a platform that carried them up and over the dragon's ruined chest. The ribs had been pulled apart to reveal a large metal sphere imbedded near the dragon's heart. Gast pressed a few buttons on the platform, and the sphere opened. "Take a look."

Sazh stared and then swallowed thickly. At the heart of the sphere was a large glowing disk. In particular, the disk was made up of an outer ring that glowed a dull blue-white and a circular area in the middle that glowed the same colour. Now and then, arcs of energy rippled between the outer ring and the centre. The rest of the sphere was taken up by a host of glowing orbs, each of them linked to each other and to the disk.

"That part in the middle looks like a Crystarium Reactor," Sazh murmured, one hand going up to his chest where a similar device glowed beneath his clothes. Without it, an old war injury would have killed him years ago.

"I know," Gast said. "But you're the only one who can confirm if it actually is one."

Sazh asked Gast to guide the platform closer so that he could examine the disk more closely. After a few moments, he breathed a small sigh of relief. The device was certainly very similar to a Crystarium Reactor, but there were several key differences. Most importantly, it did not seem like it was self-sustaining. Instead, it needed some kind of outside power regulation system along with another system for stabilising the material inside the device once it began operation. He relayed his thoughts to Gast and then glanced at the orbs that occupied much of the sphere. "What are those?"

Gast's brows furrowed. "I can't be entirely sure, but they appear to be concentrated mako in solid form."

Sazh pursed his lips. "Then they must serve as the power regulation system. Still, I didn't even know you could stabilise mako into a solid form. True, both you and Hojo have theories about how it could be done, but this is the first time I've seen it."

A dark look flashed through Gast's eyes. "I've been able to accomplish it in the lab, but the results are highly toxic." Sazh backed away from the orbs. "It's all right. The solid form is largely inert outside of direct physical contact. However, once it is liquefied or aerosolised, it becomes extremely volatile."

Sazh scowled. "Please tell me you have sensors around here for that. I don't plan on getting mako poisoning."

Gast nodded grimly. "Believe me, we do. If those orbs of mako show any sign of activity apart from background reactions, the whole lab will light up."

"Good." Sazh looked back at the sphere. "We're going to need to look at this more closely. The weapons themselves are troubling, but this is the real problem. Is there any way we can remove it from the dragon?"

Gast shook his head. "Not yet. The sphere appears to be linked to some of the dragon's tissue. Removing it from the dragon may destabilise it, or damage it beyond repair."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Sazh ran one hand through his hair. "All right then. Let's get to work."

X X X

After three days of painstaking analysis, Sazh and Gast were finally relatively certain of how the reactor operated. The orbs of mako were indeed the power regulation system. Any sudden surges in power production were handled by shunting energy into the mako, and any sudden drops in power production were compensated for by drawing upon energy held within the mako. The mako also served as the start-up system for the reactor, providing the initial jolt required to activate the almost Crystarium Reactor.

However, the reactor went even further. The orbs of mako were directly connected to the dragon's nervous system and muscles. By applying the right amount of energy, it was possible to liquefy the mako and circulate it through the dragon, vastly increasing its physical capabilities. In order to avoid injecting too much mako and simply killing the dragon, the entire reactor was linked to an intricate biological interface that allowed the dragon unprecedented control of the reactor and the mako it contained. It was absolutely brilliant – and utterly insane.

Now, they were going to see if they could control it.

Gast checked one more time to ensure that all of the appropriate safety precautions were in place and then reached for the computer console. With any luck, they'd be able to get the reactor working properly, and perhaps even reverse engineer something that might be of use to the rest of the world.

For a moment, there was nothing, and then the reactor began to emit a loud hum. The light inside it grew brighter as the unearthly glow of energised mako filled the lab. Suddenly, the readings began to spike.

"What's going on?" Sazh growled.

Gast's eyes flew over the readings. "There's some kind of biological reaction taking place. It looks metabolic –"

He trailed off as the sphere snapped shut, shielding the reactor from view. A split-second later, the mako channels leadings out of the reactor began to pulse and writhe. Before their horrified eyes, the dragon's dead flesh twitched and started to regenerate. The damn thing was coming back to life.

Gast slammed his hand down on the computer console. Immediately, cables descended from the ceiling to try and restrain the dragon, but it was nothing more than a way to buy time. The dragon's ribcage had already healed, and its arms and legs had begun to thrash about.

"AVALANCHE to the lab immediately," Gast bellowed into the intercom. "Get in here now!" He tried to cut the power to the dragon again, but it was pointless. The reactor was already generating power at a tremendous rate, power that was being used to drive the dragon's regeneration by flooding its system with mako. "Sazh, we need to get out of here, now!"

They ran for the door, but before they could get through it, the dragon tore out of its restraints. It lunged straight for them and Sazh's eyes widened as a massive claw raced through the air and –

Whoosh.

There was a sickening feeling of dislocation, and suddenly they were outside the lab. He blinked and looked back. Yuffie was there, holding each of them by the collar of their lab coat. For once, she was actually dressed like a ninja. Apart from her face, her entire form was covered in dark clothing.

"Heh, am I awesome or what?" Yuffie grinned. "I don't take credit, but some cash would be nice." There was a boom as the dragon ripped open the roof of the lab and took flight. Its scales gleamed in the afternoon sun, and the rest of AVALANCHE hurried to catch up to it. Yuffie grimaced. "Honestly, you'd think these things could have the decency to stay dead. Oh well, I'd better go help."

Sazh followed the dragon with his eyes as it raced upward. In the air, AVALANCHE would have their work cut out for them. Still, Vincent had already managed to carry Cloud onto the dragon's back, and Cid was in pursuit in a helicopter. As for Barret, the big man was leaning out of the side of the helicopter, unleashing a barrage of gunfire. His lips twitched. That was AVALANCHE. It didn't matter who the opponent was, or what they were capable of. AVALANCHE did not back down, and it did not give up.

"Yuffie," Sazh said softly. "There's a suitcase under my bed. It's steel grey and it has a scanner in front. Can you get it?"

Yuffie's eyes widened and then she smirked. "Going to get all heroic on us?"

Sazh nodded. "If I have to. Besides, it's not like any of you except for Vincent can fly."

Yuffie chuckled. "Well, you're right about that." She vanished in a puff of smoke and then reappeared moments later with the suitcase. "Here you go."

Sazh bent down in front of the suitcase. The scanner scanned his right hand, his eyes, and then took a DNA sample. Finally, he was asked to input a twenty character long code before the suitcase opened to reveal his armour, folded so that it could fit. Quickly, he stepped on top of the folded armour and held still as it began to mould itself on to him. There was surprise on Gast's face, and Sazh allowed himself a small smile. Years ago, he'd have needed an entire room for this, but not anymore.

Interlocking plates of metal locked into position on his legs before more plates moved up to cover his torso and then his arms. With all of those in place, he reached down for his helmet and locked into place as well. A faint hiss indicated that the armour was sealed and ready for use. A second later, his vision was augmented by a simple, but informative, visual overlay.

He turned to Yuffie. "Need a lift?"

The ninja smiled. "I won't say no. I could teleport there, but teleporting that far is always a pain in the neck." She shuddered. "Lots of puking involved." Her lips twitched as she took a closer look at the armour. "And it's nice to see your fashion sense hasn't changed – black and grey."

Rolling his eyes, Sazh stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Yuffie. There was a rumble and then the thrusters built into the boots of the armour roared to life. They shot upward, and Sazh angled them toward the dragon. They reached the dragon in less than a minute. Cloud was holding onto one of the dragon's scales for dear life as he hacked and slashed at anything he could reach. For its part, the dragon was doing its best to dislodge him, as it thrashed and spun through the air. Vincent, however, was doing a little better. His crimson cloak billowed in the wind as he leapt back and forth over the dragon's thrashing body, his gun trained on a partially healed wound in the dragon's side.

"This is where I get off," Yuffie shouted before she vanished from Sazh's arms. A split-second later, she appeared next to Cloud. She grabbed the blonde and hurled a handful of shuriken. They vanished, reappearing in Cid's helicopter before the shuriken exploded with a thunderous roar. The dragon howled, and rounded on the helicopter. The weapons imbedded in its body came to life, and it was a testament to Cid's skill as a pilot that he managed to keep the helicopter from being blown out of the sky.

"We need to get this thing out of the air," Sazh shouted. "Vincent, get clear."

The crimson-eyed man needed no further urging, and his cloak expanded to cover him as he shot toward the helicopter. As soon as he was clear, Sazh raised both hands. Twin bolt of energy leapt from his palms, and struck the dragon's right wing. Blood filled the air as the attack ripped an enormous hole in the dragon's wing. It rounded on him with a roar, and Sazh's vision lit up as the armour tracked more than a dozen energy projectiles headed his way. He dodged as best he could, and then turned to fire a wave of tiny missiles at the dragon. The dragon fired back, destroying most of the missiles, but two managed to strike its damaged wing. The result was impressive. The wing all but disintegrated.

The dragon plummeted and struck the ground in the middle of a forest. The sheer force of the impact uprooted trees and ripped open a large trench. But despite the damage it must have taken, the dragon was on its feet in moments, unleashing a wave of energy blasts as Sazh moved to engage it again. Behind him, Cid managed to bring the helicopter down safely, and the rest of AVALANCHE rushed forward.

Cloud was the first one to reach the dragon, and the whole dragon's body shook as the blonde brought his sword down on its side. The dragon howled, and tried to catch the blonde with one its claws, but Sazh was ready. Another salvo of energy blasts had the dragon reeling back, most of its own weaponry destroyed, before Cloud struck again, neatly severing the claw that had been trying to catch him.

"It regenerates," Sazh growled. "Don't let up on it."

"Relax, old man," Yuffie said as she leapt over the dragon, hurling shuriken. "We can handle this." The resulting explosions charred most of the dragon's back.

But the dragon wasn't done yet. Its head whipped around and Yuffie just barely managed to teleport away in time. Before it could try again, Barret and Vincent joined the fray. Bullets slammed into the dragon's head and neck, and the dragon jerked away, one eye missing, and half of its skull gone as well. But still it refused to die. In fact, some of its wounds had already started to regenerate.

"It didn't do this the last time," Barret muttered.

Sazh's eyes narrowed. Now that Barret mentioned it, Cloud's report of the dragon hadn't covered such a formidable ability to regenerate. So why was it doing so now? His gut clenched. Had Hojo planned on them capturing the dragon? Yes, that might be it. Make the dragon formidable enough that Gast would want to study it, and then, once they all thought it was dead, enable its regeneration, giving it the chance to catch all of them by surprise.

"It will probably keep regenerating as long as its reactor is working," Sazh said. He'd have to talk to Gast about his suspicions later. "We need to destroy the reactor in its chest."

The words were hardly out of his mouth before Cloud darted forward. The dragon tried to bat him away, but the SOLDIER leapt over the attack. His sword flashed down and tore open the dragon's chest, exposing its ribs. Sazh seized his opportunity and fired. The blast blew apart the dragon's ribs, and exposed the spherical reactor.

"The reactor!" Sazh shouted. "Get it!"

Cloud nodded, but before he could strike, a spear raced through the air and pierced right through the reactor. The dragon let loose a low groan and then tumbled to the ground. It twitched weakly and then went still like a puppet with its string cut. Without its reactor operational, it had no way of recovering from its injuries.

"Damn it, Cid!" Barret roared. "You can't just do that."

The pilot, who had thrown the spear, just reached for another cigarette. "I figured I'd save all of you the trouble. Besides, you guys were taking all the fun while I had to fly the helicopter."

Cloud and Vincent both gave Cid dark looks, but it was Yuffie who actually did something.

"Jerk," Yuffie muttered before a pair of shuriken pinned Cid to the helicopter. "How about you join in next time instead of letting us do all the hard work?" She glanced over at Sazh. "You know, for your sake, I really hope none of this makes the news."

Sazh groaned. Armour or not, Lahna would be less than pleased if she found out that 'analysis only' trip involved fighting a dragon with guns built into it. "I should be so lucky."

X X X

Sazh was not that lucky.

"You have some explaining to do," Lahna growled as she tossed a newspaper onto Sazh's desk.

Sazh looked from his wife to the newspaper on his desk. The headline was pretty clear: Steel Soldier Returns to Battle Dragon. And if that wasn't enough, there was even a picture of him and AVALANCHE fighting the dragon. He winced. There must have been hikers or something near the battle. "Well… it's like this…"

Lahna listened to his bumbling explanation for a few moments and then sighed. "I see." She smiled faintly. "Well, if you're going to do something, you might as well do it right. That's the kind of man I married." She dragged him out of his chair. "Now, come on, Mr Steel Soldier, your son's birthday party is about to start. We've even got a magician."

"A magician?" Sazh's brows furrowed. He didn't remember hiring a magician, although perhaps he should have. Ever since Yuffie's little trick, Dajh had been dying to see more 'magic'.

"Yes." Lahna smiled faintly. "Yuffie showed up. I don't know if she has something else they need you to look at, but since she's here, she might as well make herself useful."

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always, I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making money off of this.

So, here is Sazh. I had initially considered modelling him on Steel from DC comics, but decided to go with Iron Man. The two are fairly similar in that they rely on armour, but I thought that Iron Man would be a better fit for where I want to take this story later. As the head of Katzroy Industries, Sazh has the knowledge, the influence, and the resources to be a powerful ally. His position also lets him keep tabs on the hero world, even when he isn't entirely a part of it.

I've also decided to keep Sazh's wife (Lahna) alive. There are a number of reasons for this, but I really wanted another character that could help balance Sazh out, especially when it came to whether or not he would take up the mantle of a hero again (the ending of this chapter is mostly ambiguous with regards to this question). As Sazh's wife, her thoughts and opinions carry a great deal of weight. Lahna's presence also makes it easier to account for Dajh. If Sazh does decide to become a hero again, he's going to be spending a lot of time away from home. Any normal babysitter might become a little curious about that, but Lahna already knows about his time as the Steel Soldier.

Incidentally, the name 'Steel Soldier' is a mix between Iron Man and Steel. It is also a reference to the fact that Sazh – in this story – has spent time in the military.

With regards to Yuffie, I had initially planned this chapter with Tifa as Sazh's contact. As the most normal person in AVALANCHE, I think she and Sazh would get along rather well. However, I decided to go with Yuffie, because I wanted to have a bit more humour in Sazh's interactions with AVALANCHE. Besides, Sazh does spend a lot of time with Vanille in Final Fantasy XIII, and in many ways, Yuffie occupies the same character space as Vanille (a character space that is also shared extensively with Rikku from Final Fantasy X). I also think that sending a more serious person might put Sazh on guard immediately, whereas Yuffie comes across as less threatening due to her laidback nature. Yuffie also happens to be totally awesome. You will also notice that other members of AVALANCHE (besides Tifa) were missing. There are reasons for this.

For those who are not aware, AVALANCHE, Hojo, and Gast are from Final Fantasy VII, whereas Sazh and Dajh are from Final Fantasy XIII.

As a final, unrelated question, which female Final Fantasy character do you think would look best in a suit? This is a question that popped up in my head fairly frequently during this chapter, and I'm curious to know what you think. Out of the women in Final Fantasy XIII, I'm inclined to think Lightning (or should we call her Agent Farron?).

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


	6. Chapter 6

**A Woman And A Lady**

Thick clouds of black smoke rose from the oil platform as tongues of flame shot up toward the top of the derrick. A series of explosion rocked the structure and it began to lean until the tops of the waves washed over the deck.

Clinging onto the tattered – and quickly flooding – remains of the deck, a handful of workers exchanged grim looks. They were all going to die. All of the fire and smoke made it impossible for the helicopter circling the oil platform to reach them, and the choppy seas meant that trying to swim to the ship a few hundred yards away was nothing short of suicide.

"This was supposed to be an easy job," one of them muttered. Half the deck was underwater now. "Spend a few months at sea and make a pile of cash."

"Oh, shut up!" one of the others growled. "You started last week. This was supposed to be my last day." He gulped and shimmied further up the deck in a bid to keep his boots dry. "Screw it, I think I'm going to jump."

"Are you nuts? You won't get twenty yards before you drown."

"It's better than staying here." He clenched his jaw. "One way or another, this thing is going under. I figure I'll jump now while I've still got some strength left. Sure, I'm probably going to die, but if we wait any longer we'll be too tired to swim for it when we do go under. I'll take probably dead over definitely dead any day of the week. Now come on, we'll go on three. One. Two –"

Deep below the deck, something in the oil platform snapped and the workers went flying off the deck. Only they never hit the water. There was a sound like thunder – a sonic boom – and then a blur of black and blue. Then they were shooting toward the ship held in their rescuer's hands, tucked under her arms or flung over her shoulders.

"What… just happened?" The man who'd proposed jumping looked back and forth. He was flying not falling and the wind was tearing at his cheeks. Swallowing thickly, he turned to the right and came face to face with one of the world's most famous superheroes.

"Sorry about the hold up." Emerald eyes twinkled and full lips curved into a smirk familiar the world over. "But I had some business in Nautilus to take care of." Ultrawoman angled toward the deck of the ship and handed the dazed workers over to the crew. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got one burning oil platform to deal with and –"

BOOM.

Fire consumed the derrick and the tall metal structure gave a hideous screech before it snapped in half and toppled toward the helicopter circling the oil platform.

"Honestly." Ultrawoman sighed. "You'd think people would know not to circle the giant burning metal thing full of oil." She grinned. "Oh well, back to work then."

She tensed in the air for a split-second and then burst into motion. In her wake, the ship rocked to one side, buffeted by the winds of her passage. The hundreds of yards between her and the oil platform went by in the blink of an eye, and she threw herself against the collapsing derrick. Metal screamed and she gave a low growl. The stupid thing wasn't heavy at all, but it was bulky, and it was coming to pieces all around her and that stupid helicopter still hadn't backed off.

In fact, the helicopter had actually come around for another pass. Wait. Was there a cameraman in there? Her eyes narrowed a fraction and the metal exterior of the helicopter vanished in the face of her x-ray vision. Yep, there was a cameraman in there along with someone she recognised from one of the major news channels. How on earth that they gotten here before the search and rescue people?

Never mind. There was nothing the media loved more than catching a superhero in action, and although she normally humoured them, she needed to get them out of danger. Taking a breath, she blew just hard enough to push the helicopter away before she tossed the burning derrick into the ocean.

The derrick kicked up an enormous spray of water, and she drifted over the oil platform to assess the damage. It took her less than half a second to find the problem: a fire had broken out below decks and had spread to almost every part of the oil platform. Her lips curled. Nothing for it then, she'd have to freeze the whole thing or they'd have one heck of an oil spill on their hands when it finally blew up or broke apart.

She took a deep breath and blew again, harder this time. An icy blast of air shot forward and the oil platform was soon coated in ice several inches thick. It would take about a day for it to thaw, so it wasn't totally ruined, but that would give repair crews and emergency services more than enough time to get over here and fix things up. Just to be safe, she could always come back in a few hours to check on everything.

"Ultrawoman!" The shout came from the helicopter where – surprise, surprise – the reporter was hanging out one of the doors with a microphone. "Do you have anything to say about this disaster and your role in preventing it?"

Ultrawoman flashed her trademark smirk. "Not really. I was just doing my bit. You know, making the world safer and all that." She waved lazily for the camera. "You might want to close that door though."

"Close the door?" The reporter closed the door but shoved the microphone through the window. "Why?"

"Because of this." Ultrawoman vanished into the distance, leaving the helicopter floundering back and forth in her wake before it finally stabilised.

The reporter wiped some sweat off her brow. "All right, get us back to shore now. I can practically taste the high ratings!"

X X X

Ultrawoman – better known to the world as Oerba Yun Fang – yawned and lay down on the back of the blue whale. The animal beneath her gave a low, keening cry, and she reached over to pat it on the back.

"Easy there, big fellow." She grinned. "I'm not that heavy, and it's not like you're in a hurry. Besides, I thought you might like the company."

The whale made another sound and then calmed, drawing another lazy yawn from the superhero. She was at the tail end of her shift. In an hour or two it would be Vanille's turn to deal with any impending global disasters. Right now, however, there wasn't anything going on that demanded her immediate attention. True, there were probably hundreds of cats that needed saving from trees, but there were more than enough aspiring heroes to handle that. Cat saving wasn't the most glamorous part of the profession, but every superhero needed to start somewhere. And if a superhero couldn't get a cat out of a tree, they probably weren't ready for the big leagues – super villains, natural disasters and the occasional war.

But after hours on the job, she could use a break. This was the life, way out here with nothing but the sky above her and nothing but the sea – and a blue whale – beneath her. She wasn't moping or anything, and she loved being around other people, but it was nice to have some time to herself when she didn't have to pretend. Only Vanille and the matron knew her secret identity – she had to lie to everyone else. But whales didn't care too much about superheroes, and they certainly weren't about to tell anyone anything.

Suddenly, the whale beneath her picked up its pace and dived below the surface. Underwater, a wave of sound washed over them. The whale's pod was close.

"All right." She patted the animal on the back. "You'd better get going and try not to run into any trouble." She paused, wishing she had Vanille's telepathy. "Try not to go too far north. I've heard there might be some illegal whaling going on that I haven't had the chance to stop yet."

As the whale vanished into the deep, a silly smile slipped over her face. How many people could say they'd ever sat on top of a whale? Not many, that was for sure. Now what to do? There wasn't any trouble nearby, but there was always trouble somewhere. It was just a matter of finding it. And she knew exactly how to find it.

"Time to stretch my legs a little."

Ultrawoman closed her eyes and the water around her began to churn. She wasn't entirely sure how she flew – it was enough for her that she did. Vanille had tried to explain it to her once, but after listening for more than an hour, she had sort of tuned the younger woman out.

Whatever it was that let her fly, it felt almost like a muscle, one that went over her whole body. The tension inside her rose and she let it build and build until there was nowhere left for it to go but up, up into the sky. Then she was moving, and the surface of the ocean exploded outward as she ripped right through it and streaked up into the clouds.

A grin tugged at her lips as she poured on the speed. Every nerve in her body was on fire, but in the very best way. This was living. But it wasn't enough. Faster. She needed to go faster. Every now and then some superhero came out claiming to be faster than she was, but when it came right down to it, she'd never met anyone who was faster than her. There wasn't a person in the world who could catch her when she got going, not even Vanille, and there wasn't a thing in the world that made her feel as good as pushing herself to the limit.

She flew up until the waves beneath her turned into a single mass of blue and the continents and islands became blotches of brown and green spread across the surface of the planet. From up here, she could see everything even the curvature of the planet as it spun through space. At her back there was only a great, black emptiness lit by twinkling stars and the large, pale face of the moon.

What a view. Half the world was lost in shadow; entire continents dark save for the shimmer of millions of electric lights. There was Nautilus, a blaze of light along the coast, and further down was Bodhum, a gigantic storm forming several miles away. Elsewhere, the sun still lit the world, warm light playing over mountain ranges, forests and cities. As she watched, several rays of sunlight slipped past the edge of the planet and into her eyes. Beautiful.

Being up here always made her heart beat a little bit faster. She hadn't been born here, but this was her world now, her new home, and from here she could see very part of it. But it was more than seeing, so much more. It had taken her years to work out how to properly control her super hearing, but now she could pick out all the countless radio signals and other bits of information that raced around the planet.

Yes, she thought as she closed her eyes. She could hear everything. At first, there was only the grim silence of space and then, as she honed her hearing onto a specific range of frequencies, she started to hear the rest. The radio stations came first – in countless languages and playing everything from historical dramas to heavy metal – but right behind them were all the mobile phone conversations.

"_Happy birthday!"_ A young man calling his four-year old son from half a world away.

"_I'm at the airport. Where are you?"_ A middle-aged woman arguing with her sister.

"_Do you think your mother likes me?"_ A newlywed wife asking her husband about their extended family.

There were thousands of voices scattered in the ether, millions, billions and she could hear every one of them. But that still wasn't enough. Her hearing sharpened until she could make out every single individual heartbeat on the planet below her, a strong, steady pulse that mirrored the one in her chest. And then she opened her eyes and with her superhuman vision, she matched sound with sight.

Ba bump.

"_Come on!"_ A mother and father waved at their toddler in a park filled with green grass and half a dozen ducks in a nearby pond. _"Come here! You can do it! Walk over here!"_

Ba bump.

"_Careful with the clutch!"_ A teenager stalled their first car on the way up a hill, much to their father's exasperation and the horror of their siblings in the backseat. _"Quick, you're holding up traffic!"_

Ba bump.

"_I'm Ultrawoman!"_ A pair of little girls ran around in their front yard with black and blue towels draped over their backs. _"No, I am!"_

There were other sights and sounds, of course – war, disaster and misfortune – but even amidst all of those, there was hope: other superheroes; ordinary men and women doing the right thing, the good thing. No matter how hard things were or how tired she was, coming up here always put things into perspective. This world was far from perfect, but it was wonderful despite that – because of that – and it was so, so alive.

A long time ago, the matron had asked her if she and Vanille ever felt like gods. It was a fair question. There was probably nothing in the world that could kill her except maybe Vanille, and the red head had come close a few times with some of her inventions. But compared to most people she was a god. She could throw a building like it weighed nothing at all, fly from one side of the world to another in a matter of moments and even shoot heat from her eyes.

But she'd never felt like she was better than other people, like she was worth more than they were. And whether the matron knew it or not, it was all thanks to her. After Fang and Vanille had lost everything – their family, their planet and their whole way of life – the matron had taken them in and loved them like they were her own flesh and blood. Long before they'd decided to become heroes, the matron had been their hero. She shook her head and grinned. Who would ever believe it? A middle-aged woman with a touch of arthritis was her inspiration, her reason for being a hero. That, more than anything else, made it clear: being a hero was about more than having muscles.

And no matter how strong she became, she knew that to the matron she would always be that kid she found in a field one day. She'd looked through the crystal – Vanille had decoded almost all of it over the years – and her father had wanted her and Vanille to help the people of this planet, to give them something to admire and aspire to. He'd gotten it wrong. The matron was the one who gave them something to admire and aspire to. The matron didn't have super powers, but she'd helped them and cared for them even if she didn't have to because it was the right thing to do, the good thing to do. The matron had taken two children with the power of gods and made sure they'd grown up with the most human of hearts.

"You always wanted to how we could bring ourselves to protect all of this, matron." Ultrawoman looked at the planet below her. "The better question is: how could we not?"

She lingered there for a few more moments, enjoying the view, before her eyes were drawn back to Bodhum. The storm had grown much larger and had begun to approach the coast. Time to get back to work.

X X X

The storm front advancing on Bodhum was something that impressed even Ultrawoman. The clouds formed a gigantic black mountain that spanned the horizon and went from just above the surface of the sea to several miles into the air. From within the seething mass of water vapour came the flash of lightning, and every few seconds the sky went from pitch black to bright as day. As the storm neared the shoreline, the winds kicked up and the sea beneath it swelled to pound against Bodhum's world famous beaches.

One glance was enough to realise that the storm surge would probably wipe out most of the buildings along the shoreline. She could use her freezing breath to make a wall out of ice or she could tear up some of the ground, although the locals probably wouldn't appreciate all the property damage. She was still running through her options when she caught the tail end of a conversation relayed along the police and emergency services channels.

"_We've got another fast mover headed this way…"_

Another superhero? She turned and her eyes widened as a flash of red streaked in from the horizon. She'd know that costume everywhere. Vanille had quite a few posters of the superhero in question and, apart from her and Vanille, this particular superhero was the matron's favourite. It was Lady Lightning.

She'd seen the other superhero on television a few times, but this was her first time seeing her up close. As much as it bugged her, she could kind of see what all the fuss was about. The other woman cut a dashing figure: long legs, toned body and blue eyes that seemed to burn right through anything she looked at. There was also something about the woman that made it hard to look at her. Was it a device of some kind or maybe it was magic? But what was up with her skirt? The cape she could understand, but who thought it was a good idea to fly around in a skirt?

But what really caught her eye, what made her stare and grin like Christmas had come early was how fast Lady Lightning was. She was fast, really, really fast.

"What do you think you're doing here?"

Ultrawoman flinched as Lady Lightning came to a stop a few yards away. Yikes. The words themselves weren't that bad, but the other superhero seemed to snap each of them out like a whip.

"I thought I'd drop by and help." Ultrawoman flashed her most winning smile. "I heard you'd moved to Eden City, so I thought I might help out here and then spend the day at the beach."

Lady Lightning's eyes narrowed and Ultrawoman felt a pleasant frisson of tension run through her body as little bolts of electricity formed in the air around them. "Bodhum is my town."

"Oh?" Ultrawoman knew she should back off. Superheroes tended to get possessive – each of them had their own turf – but she was dying to know what made Vanille and the matron such fans of Lady Lightning. The other superhero wasn't _that_ cool. "Bodhum is big enough for both of us and this is quite a storm."

Lady Lightning turned – Ultrawoman couldn't remember the last time anyone had turned their back on her – and tossed her next words over her shoulder. "Just leave this to me."

"Really? What exactly are you going to do?"

Lady Lightning didn't bother to reply and Ultrawoman had to brace herself as a crack of thunder rang out and the other superhero raced up into the heart of the storm. Okay… not exactly friendly, or about as friendly as a brick to the face. Still, she was kind of curious to see what Lady Lightning would do, so rather than do anything, she decided to hang back and watch.

Lady Lightning made her way up into the centre of the storm and there, she raised one hand. To Ultrawoman's disbelief, the storm answered the gesture. Lightning tore in from every direction, a continuous, unrelenting barrage of electrical energy that shattered the sky and sent out a single, unbroken peal of thunder. She had to steady herself in the air against the shockwave and for a moment, she felt a stab of concern. Even she couldn't shrug off that much lightning.

But Lady Lightning didn't look the least bit bothered by it. In fact, unless Ultrawoman was mistaken, the other woman seemed to be absorbing it, her whole form glowing as brightly as a star before the barrage of lightning began to slow and the glow faded. As the lightning ceased, the storm began to collapse. The clouds split and the wind died, and within a few moments the sea had grown eerily calm.

Ultrawoman gave a low whistle. Okay, that was impressive. It was time to go have a chat to Lady Lightning then, maybe even get that autograph that Vanille had been looking for. But as she reached the other superhero, Lady Lightning gave her another withering look and then turned on her heel and… flew away.

For a second, Ultrawoman could only gape. Then her lips curled. So she wanted to play things that way? Well, nobody but nobody outrun her. Eyes narrowed, she gathered her strength and then shot after Lady Lightning.

She caught up to the other superhero in a few seconds, but before she actually reach out and grab her, Lady Lightning put on another burst of speed and pulled away. That woman! Ultrawoman growled and upped her speed. If Lady Lightning wanted to run that was fine, but she was going to get caught.

Only… that wasn't what happened.

Lady Lightning was faster than anyone Ultrawoman had ever chased and as they raced through the sky, punching through the clouds before diving to skim the surface of the ocean, she realised that for the first time in her life, she wasn't gaining ground. The other woman was actually staying ahead. Wait… it was more than that. Lady Lightning was actually pulling farther and farther away.

Ultrawoman grit her teeth and willed herself to go faster. This wasn't about talking to Lady Lightning or even getting her autograph anymore. No, this was about who was faster and Ultrawoman hated to lose. Below them, the sea gave way to the white ice of the South Pole and Lady Lightning dove into a winding canyon cut by a pair of titanic glaciers. Ultrawoman could have just smashed right through the ice, but that wasn't the point. She was going to follow the exact same path as Lady Lightning and she was going to catch her.

Up and down, left and right, the pair of them wove through the maze of jagged ice with an agility that no plane could ever hope to match. The canyon trembled as their pace quickened and the shockwaves of their flight rippled through the glaciers. But Ultrawoman wasn't making up ground, and as a sharp, hard right turn loomed up, she made her first mistake.

And slammed into the wall of the canyon face first.

"Damn it!" Ultrawoman growled as she clawed her way out from under the rubble. She wasn't hurt – it took a lot more than that to hurt her – but she'd definitely lost time and…

And Lady Lightning was just floating in the air above her with a smirk of her own.

"Stop trying to keep up. I don't think you can."

Then she was gone and Ultrawoman could only stare into the space where the other superhero had been.

"Well…. damn," Ultrawoman whispered. "I think I get it now." She chuckled. Vanille had started over at Eden City University. Perhaps it was time to pay her sister a visit and if she happened to run into a certain pink haired superhero… well, coincidences did happen.

Far to the north, she saw a flash of light and she homed in on it with her superhuman vision. There was a space shuttle coming in to land and by the looks of things they would need her help. After all, it wasn't easy to land a space shuttle when its wings had broken off.

X X X

**Author's Notes**

As always I neither own Final Fantasy, nor am I making any money off of this.

So… it's been a while. I won't try and make excuses (I'm fresh out), but I thank all of you for putting up with the delay. I recently saw the trailer for Man of Steel (the new Superman movie) and once I saw it, I just had to write this chapter. Superman is one of my favourite superheroes and the chance for him to be in a movie that isn't terrible is almost too good to be true.

With regards to this chapter, I took bits and pieces of it from all over the place. The oil platform rescue is a nod at the Man of Steel trailer. Fang's time listening to all of the radio signals and phone calls is a nod at Superman Returns (it's probably one of my favourite scenes ever when it comes to superheroes, even if the movie itself isn't that good). And of course, the whole idea of a superhero with godlike powers having a distinctly human heart is taken from the Superman mythos.

What I wanted to do in this chapter is to try and get into Fang's head a little bit more and I thought the best way to do that would be to follow her during a 'typical' day as a superhero. I decided to throw Lightning in there because it's about time those two met and there's nothing quite like competition to get someone's attention. Fang is stronger and faster than Vanille, and she can't remember the last time she's lost to anyone when it comes to superpowers. Well, Fang, when it comes to speed, you may just have met your match.

And don't forget that little bit of information at the end. Vanille goes to Eden City University – the same university as Serah (see Chapter 1). How will Lady Lightning deal with having Ultragirl on her turf? That was supposed to happen in this chapter, but I decided to go with this. Rest assured, we will find out.

Finally, for people wondering where Hope is rest assured, I haven't forgotten him. He will be in this story, but I do need to lay a bit of groundwork first.

Also, you can find links to my blog and deviant art in my profile, along with links to eBook versions of Ordinary Heroes. I would also like to mention redkid11 who has a comic of Chapter 12 of Whispers of the Gods up on her deviant art. Head on over and take a look (there is a link to her deviant art profile in my profile). Finally, I would also like to mention denebtenoh who has a picture of Lightning from Of Gods and Demons up on her deviant (link in my profile).

As always, I appreciate feedback. Reviews and comments are welcome.


End file.

Final Fantasy XIII, Adventure