Fanstory: Finding Courage

Finding Courage Universe: Final Fantasy Ⅶ Alternate Reality

Author: Luna Fabula (aka: Mythicall Moon)

Introduction and Notes This is a non-profit fanstory based closely on the Final Fantasy Ⅶ compilation – written by a fan for fans. This is can be read as a standalone but is written for my FF7AR universe, which if you've read my first one is based very as closely as possible the original version of events that Square has given us.

AN1: The font is, usually, in Verdana. Fonts for handwritten letters and notes are in MV Boli, Segoe Script, or Segoe Print – which depends on the “writer” (character who wrote the letter/note).

AN2: Emily is the most prominent character that has a country bumpkin way of talking. (I.E.: “Will ya quit yammerin'! What's the mattah wi'h tha'? Ah ain't done wi'h ya!”). PS: Emily's mother's surname can be Ladove, Dovehart, Dove (married), Whitebird, Whitewing, or Whitefeather.

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These fanstories are individual but interlinked, or interconnected, with each other. The titles of them can be shorted to two initials or acronyms that end with the letter C(cee). With the first letter being in alphabetical order. The list of words are written down on paper: Emergent, Advent, Harmonic, Journey, Dirge, Cycle, Capacity, Compassion, Crystal, Cosmos, Change, Chance, Cetra, Campaign, Chaos, Cerberus, Creation, Clarity, Crisis, Children, Calamity, Connection, Trial, Courage, Finding, Continuation, Clairvoyant, Awakening, Avert, Balance, Drive, Cautious, Heart,


 * Square Official: Before Crisis, Crisis Core, Final Fantasy VII, Advent Children, Dirge of Cerberus
 * My Examples: Handle with Care, Cyclic Love,

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[The story excerpts start on the next page, some may or may not be used. Also, they need to be rearranged into a more coherent order.]

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[Title Later] Focus: Sephiroth/Silver, Emily, Victoria

Near the coast of the peninsula, of the Gongaga region, was a small town known as Berlake. For a resident of this small town, it started like any other day. Emily Dove woke up to the sound of twittering birds and her daughter's deep breathing, who lay in her bed sleeping soundly, which told her that her that they were still alive. This resident was Emily Dove. She helped her daughter, Victoria, get ready for her day at the local school while she got ready to shop in the small market of the town they lived in. “Torie,” she told her six-years-old daughter, “try ta behave a' school.” After giving her daughter an affectionate kiss on her forehead while dropping her off at Berlake Academy (which taught all ages), Emily went to the market square in the town to what was available that day.

While Emily was in the market square of Berlake, a young woman with curly red hair walked over to her. “Hey, Em” the curly haired young woman greeted as if she had known them for a while, “what's going on?” Emily looked up a bit surprised before identifying the redhead as her friend of three years, Thilly Fjellet. “G'day, Thilly, it's a fine day,” Emily responded as she examined some of the produce on display, “Ah'm jus' gettin' things fer suppah. How're ya doin'?” Thilly laughed a bit, before she said “I'm doing fine, Em.” Finally picking up some sweet yellow apples, Emily glanced at her friend before asking, “Tilly, wha' d'ya wan'?” Thilly grinned before she answered with, “Nothing, Em, just shopping for the week.” After giving Thilly an amused smile, Emily finished shopping, buying what she could with the Gil she had, then went home.

Once everything she bought was put away, Emily grabed a wicker basket, meant to carry flowers, that is lined with fabric before heading out of her home. Emily started walking from her town and along a path that she had travelled so many times, to a glen in the forest nearby, in hopes of gathering herbs and berries – things that she uses to create herbal medicine.

When Emily got to the glen in the forest near Berlake, (“Came from Cosmo Canyon, I did, its north-ish of here,” she once heard from a black-haired mercenary.) She was surprised to find a youthful looking man clad only in a pair of faded black trousers laying on the banks of the river that ran through the glen, the man gave a low groan of pain when she got closer. Kneeling down beside the man, Emily noticed that had lank, waist-long silvery-grey hair that was currently splayed out round him, she carefully reached over to see if he was awake as his eyes were closed. She realised that she needed to wake him and up do her best to help him recover when she was the man grimace as if the pain was not only physical but also mental or emotional. Emily nearly gave a shriek of fright when the man, very abruptly, opened his eyes that – she noticed – were pinched in pain. The man began to slowly shove himself up into a standing potion. “'ere,” Emily found herself saying as she reached over to help steady the man, “le' me help ya.”

At the sound of her voice, the man turned his attention to her with his seagreen eyes barely focusing on her. Emily noticed that there was a slight glow to his eyes. 'His eyes…' Emily thought to herself when she saw his eyes, '…the Mako glowin' eyes of a Warrior.' What she didn't know was that there were few people with those type of eyes.

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“Who's tha', mama?” Victoria asked her mother, her big green eyes full of curiosity. “An injured man, Torie,” Emily answered, “Ah hope ya'll behave yerself now.”

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“Who,” he asked, “are you?” his seagreen eyes locked onto the woman who was stitching something together as she sat in the chair nearby. She looked up in surprise, her eyes a golden brown color that reminded him of autumn, before a smile graced her lips.

“Forgive me, Ah haven't introduced mahself ye'. Ah'm Emily,” she said as she tucked some of her dark brown hair behind her ear, “Emily Dove… Nice ta meetcha.”

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“Yer 'air…” Emily said, “it looks like silvah…” One of her hands began to reach up, she found herself wanting to touch his silvery-grey hair. “That's it!” She exclaimed as she clapped her hands, “Ah'll call ya 'Silvah' – fer yer 'air! Would ya try ta sit?”

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It took a month for Silver to be able to walk around without stumbling over his own feet, one day as Emily was shopping with her daughter and Silver in the market, Thilly walked over to them. “Hey,” the curly haired young woman greeted as if she had known them for a while, “how's life treating you, Em?”

“Ah'm doin' fine,” Emily answered, as she adjusted her hold on her daughter, “Jus' gettin' things fer our suppah…” She paused to examine her red haired friend, she noticed that Thilly's red hair had been tightly curled into fancy ringlets and she was wearing in a dress that complemented her lightly tanned skin. After a moment, Emily asked, “Yer lookin' all gussied up, Thilly. Why's tha'?” Thilly just grinned, her dark blue eyes full of mischief. “No reason, really,” the redhead answered.

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As he practised with his recently acquired sword, a shorter normal sized sword (“It's called 'Windcutter',” he recalled the blacksmith saying when he had bought it last week) for that matter. Silver paused to brush his silvery-grey hair, that had been recently cut short – it now reached his chin – by Emily a few days ago, out of his seagreen eyes. He was still disgruntled about having to use Windcutter for day-to-day combat instead of his favoured long sword Masamune, now reserved for emergencies, that was still sheathed and attached to a baldric that was strapped across his back, hanging from his left shoulder. The more he practised with Windcutter, the more Silver realised that the difference of between Windcutter and his Masamune was not only in the length of the blade, but also the style of swordsmanship, Windcutter had shorter blade which made him move about quicker than he was familiar with due to his Masamune having a longer blade. At the same time, he felt like he was unbalanced with only one shortsword. He realised that he needed to learn out to wield Windcutter more effectively – wanting to protect Emily and her daughter to the best of his abilities.

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Silver found himself gazing into a pair of golden brown eyes that reminded him of maple leaves in autumn. Gently cupping her face, Silver leaned down to press a soft kiss on Emily's nose. Her eyes widened in surprise as she had not expected him to do that. “Emy,” he murmured causing her to look up at him, she found herself gazing into his seagreen eyes, “you're a charming woman…and…I care about you.” Emily could not stop herself from giggling as she tucked some of her dark brown hair behind her ear.

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“Yer…” Emily stammered, shock evident on her face, “Yer Sephiroth…” Tears began to fall from her golden brown eyes, which caused him to reach over and try to brush her tears away. He felt his heart break when she pulled away, her voice was shaking as she asked “Why…? Why'd ya lie?”

“Lie?” He repeated, before saying “I never lied to you. I was not lying when I told you that I was trying to find myself…” He sighed, closing his eyes as he forced himself to continue even if it felt like his heart would not mend again, “You…… No, I never told you my name only the alias you gave me… Never told you much of my past either…” Looking into her eyes with his own, he could see her uncertainty clearly. “Please,” he pleaded, “Please, give me a chance, Emy.”

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“Are,” Silver asked hesitatingly, “you going to be alright?” He watched her pull her pale blue cloak around her before Emily turned to him with a gentle smile on her lips. It was a bit strange for him to see anyone sit on a Chocobo with both of their legs on one side of the avian creature, yet it seemed natural for Emily to sit upon her pink feathered Chocobo (“'er name's Rosie,” he recalled Emily saying) like that. “Ah'll be fine,” Emily answered him, “although… the locket ya gave me yes'erday'll keep me happy enough… Can ya, please, give me a kiss?”

Laughing softly, Silver titled his head up as she leaned down. This requested kiss was only a brief touch of their lips, but he could have sword his heart skipped a beat or two. “Be safe,” Silver found himself pleading, “Please, Emy, be safe.” His only answer was a gentle laugh, that reminded him of the chiming of windchimes, which made him smile gently without realising it. He watched as Emily lightly tugged Rosie's reins to get the Chocobo to start trotting, his smile stayed as he watched her ride her pink Chocobo off towards her destination. Sighing, he turned around and headed back into town – Silver had promised that he would take care of her daughter, Victoria, while she was gone.

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As they walked across the grassy tundra towards their destination, Emily had been chattering about anything she wanted to – with Silver periodically saying something – for a while before she fell silent and they enjoyed each other's companionship. Silver smiled, he found himself cherishing her presence by his side and the peacefulness that he knew he had not enjoyed previously. Before he realised what he was doing, or why he was acting, Silver pushed Emily behind him as he spun around when he heard a roar that was almost deafening. He was startled to find himself staring down a beast that was as tall as a single-storey house yet half as wide as a truck. As it bounded towards them, Silver noticed the ground shook every time it landed. The beast was covered in maroon scales, black talons on its paws, four black horns protruding from its head, and – Silver realised with a shiver – four yellow eyes that glowed.

“Th-that,” he head Emily stutter out, he knew she was scared, “b-beast is the Slender Blazeblaster!” Silver simply grunted to let her know that he heard her as he unsheathed his Windcutter from its place on his hip.

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When the sharp claws of the beast slashed across his chest, Silver hissed in pain before he began to focus his ire and fury – directing his darker emotions towards the Slender Blazeblaster. It felt like time slowed as tendrils of dark grey energy started to gather in his left hand, twisting around and circling as it grew larger. Silver rose his hand so that it was over his right shoulder, letting the ash-grey energy grow into a sphere the size of an orange. As soon as the dark ash sphere of energy reached what felt like the correct size, Silver threw the spherical energy at the beast as he flung his hand across his body until it was perpendicular to his shoulders. The maroon scaled beast shrieked in pain when the ashy-grey sphere its face, and time seemed to resume at normal speed.

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Closing his eyes, Silver titled his head back so that he was facing the sky. He wanted to tell Emily of his past and give her his real name the name that inspired terror or anger across the entire planet, but he was not certain if he should. <p style="font-family: verdana; font-style: normal; text-align: center; font-size: 14px;"><font style="font-family: verdana; margin-bottom: 0in;">-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

“What's the matter, little flower?” Silver asked Victoria who was curled up in his lap, he was stroking her rich brown hair as she clutched his shirt in a small fist. “Nothin',” she answered quietly as her big green eyes blinked, “I jus' miss mama.” Knowing that the young girl was going to fall asleep – even as she tried to fight it. Pulling her into a firm hug, Silver laid his cheek on her head as he said, “So do I, little flower, so do I.”

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Thilly Fjallet twirled around, the skirt of her soft yellow dress flaring out. Her dark blue eyes shining with joy, she enjoyed dancing. Her curly red locks were beginning to fall out of the bun she wore that night for the festival that was being held in her town of Berlake. The festival was held on April 3 every year, celebrating the fact that “spring had arrived”.

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Leaning against the doorjamb, Silver smiled softly, watching Emily playfully dance with her daughter in the rain. He could hear Victoria laughing with childlike joy as she twirled around with her mom holding one hand.

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Carrying a tray with food for Emily, who had fallen ill. “Come on, Emy,” he coaxed, “try to sit up. I've got soup for you.” She glanced at with with puffy eyes, before asking, “Give me some help, would ya?” With a soft sigh, he placed the tray on the bedside table before sliding one arm behind her shoulders and carefully bringing her into an upright position. Picking up the tray again, he sat down, facing her, on the bed and laid the tray over her lap.

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Wrapping his arms around Emily's shoulders, while she was cooking their dinner that night. Golden brown eyes widened in surprise, no one had done that before. She was even more surprised when she heard Silver say “Thank you, Emy-dear.”

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They arrived in Rocket Town late one evening in August, the air was pleasantly chilly for Emily and her daughter. Silver realised that the cold rarely bothered him anymore, likely due to his time in the Great Cavity of the Knoll's Pole region.

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She listened to Silver squabble with a the captain of the W.P.A. Guardian (or was it the A.T.V. Sentinel, she couldn't remember). She could hear the captain's wife laughing softly to herself. The auburn haired woman, Emily could tell was more willing to listen to them.

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Silver glanced down when he felt that someone was tugging on his arm like a doorbell, he saw Victoria looking up at him with her big green eyes. “What's up, little flower?” Silver inquired as he gazed down beside the girl who had managed to work her way into his heart, just like her mother did. He was startled by what she said. “Nothin', papa,” Victoria chirpped, holding her arms up for him. “jus' wanna hug.”

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“Silvah,” Emily exclaimed, her voice broadcasting her delight about something, “Ah've somethin' fer ya!” The silvery-grey haired young man turned his seagreen eyes landed on the long, slender rectangle box she was carrying in her arms. Curiosity won over confusion, “What's this?” he found himself asking. “Jus' open it!” Emily playfully demanded as she practically shoved the wrapped item into his arms, he could tell she was excited to see how he would respond to her gift. Laughing softly, Silver began to unwrap the box. The gift turned out to be a pair of short swords, he did not know either of them, even though they were of the standard model – they were different. Pulling them out, he backed away from Emily so that he did not strike her as swung them. He found himself pleased with the set of shortswords, he no longer felt unbalanced when he wielded them. “Wow!” Silver exclaimed, delighted that he aspect of being able to better protect Emily and Victoria.

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<h3 style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center; font-size: 20px; font-style: normal;">[Title Later] Focus: W.R.O. & Vincent, Yuffie, Chaos, Harmony, Lucrecia

“Don't you %#$@*!& forget I named my last airship after her,” Cid stated, as he draped an arm around Sierra's shoulders, “besides, it's spelled the same way that her name is.”

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Sierra could not stop herself from laughing at her husband's squabble with the young man who had silvery-grey hair. She still thought that Cid needed to calm down about things. She brushed her auburn hair over her shoulder while she finished the tea for everyone to drink.

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Cid watched as Sierra's hazel eyes narrowed and realised that someone was going to get a scolding – the prime target was himself. He knew that she only narrowed her eyes like that when she was furious about something. But, Cid found himself thinking, it was something that made him fall for her all over again.

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“Legends in Wutai,” Yuffie said one evening as she gazed out at the landscape beyond Edge, “tells that the Da Zhao statue was carved out of the Malong mountains to honour the first emperor of Wutai – Zhao Yamano.” She turned leaned forward, resting her arms on the railing of the building that was the new offices of the Turks and their boss. “Mama told me that…” Yuffie said distantly, turning to her Vincent noticed that her taupe eyes were not focused on anything but he realised were likely focused on her mother's words, “that Zhao had transformed into a daemon – a being that protects the living and… Mama told me that Zhao will guide Wutai back to prosperity.” He watched as she shook her head with a light laugh before she said, “I hope that's true.”

Vincent watched as Yuffie tilted her head backwards, her short black hair swaying in the gentle breeze. He did not expect her to talk again, at least not for several minutes, so he was a bit surprised when she said, “My mama told me that Zhao was killed by those who wanted to rule Wutai how they saw fit, and that he died protecting a woman from another land – a woman named Euphia.” She turned around to face Vincent with a soft smile on her face, she continued to talk, “Mama told me that I was named after her – but with a Wutainese flair – and that she did so but she believed that I had a great destiny in my life.” With a quite laugh, Yuffie said, “I still don't know if I can believe that.”

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By the time that Reeve found Vincent, it was already night and nearly pitch black. Reeve was alarmed to see Vincent laying, no, sprawled on his back with his arms spread from him and he could hear the other man gasping for breath. Kneeling down beside his friend, Reeve noticed that there was a gaping hole in Vincent's chest – right where the ProtoMateria was – and his deep red eyes were glazed over in pain. Carefully, Reeve reached over to check Vincent's pulse as he did Reeve realised that his friend was not just gasping for air but also chanting – repeating himself in a weak and strained voice, which scared Reeve more than he would admit as he did not want to lose his friend. Leaning closer, Reeve heard what Vincent was chanting: “Cha…… os…… help…… me……” Looking around, Reeve spotted Vincent's favoured triple-barreled gun, Cerberus, laying out of the gunman's reach.

After picking up Vincent's Cerberus, Reeve pulled out his new PHS – one that Sierra had designed, and finished some time ago – as he started to dial to contact Cid. Before he could finish dialing, Reeve looked back at Vincent, he was shocked to see tendrils of red Lifestream rising up from the ground around Vincent's prone body. What made Reeve still in awe was that, within only one minute, the red tendrils began to coalesce into a winged humanoid shape that was masculine and seemed very familiar. The red humanoid shape solidified into a being that Reeve thought was gone permanently, with black hair that seemed to defy gravity and amber-yellow eyes shining in the darkness.

Keeping as still as he could, Reeve watched the being known as Chaos scan around, his red leathery wings with black spins flapped lazily – keeping Chaos hoovering at least a foot above the ground. Reeve absentmindedly noticed that Chaos had two black horns protruding from his brow which were curled back as if to contain his wild hair.

Chaos noticed that the young man who had once housed him was laying prone on the ground, Chaos knew that if he was to serve his primary purpose as a daemon of Mother Gaea he would need to inhabit the young man again. This time, he would be a tenant of the young man of his own choice. Absently he noticed that there was another human nearby but did not concern himself with the other human. Pressing a clawed hand over his host's barely beating heart, he paused when he heard his host repeating a single phrase – Chaos realised that his host was also accepting the reunion of sorts. “In unity,” Chaos intoned with his hand over his host's heart, “with purpose.” As soon as Chaos uttered the last syllable, Reeve watched as Chaos seemed to dissolve into red tendrils that were absorbed into Vincent's body.

He still could not believe what he had seen, and – Reeve would later realise – barely understood the significance of the phrase Chaos had stated before he was absorbed by Vincent. Shaking his head, Reeve dialed a familiar number so that he and Vincent could get away from the rocky terrain of the Xangard Desert. Examining Vincent, Reeve realised that his friend's body was slowly mending itself – but also swiftly. He suspected Vincent would be on his feet in a few hours – two or three hours, he theorized.

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Bright purple eyes flickered around as the female being in front of them examined them quietly. As she continued her examination of them, Shelke found herself observing her. The being had brown hair that seemed to defy gravity with how it floated about as if the being was underwater, green (Shelke realised) was an accent colour for this being as it was the colour of the scaled wings she sported as well as the attire she wore – much like how Chaos wore an outfit that was black with red accents.

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“It might be hypocritical of me,” Cloud bluntly told Vincent, “but I want you to figure out how you view Lucrecia.” Turning his head to the side, Cloud continued, “What I'm asking, Vince, is if you image yourself getting married – who's the bride? Can you image yourself with children, as a parent with one other – who's the mother?” Looking back at the gunslinger, Cloud said, “Vince, I just want you to be certain of your feelings.” They both knew that it was unusual for Cloud to be so vocal about something, which made Vincent fall quiet in contemplation as the trekked thought the forest towards Nibelheim. “Cloud, What about you?” Vincent asked while they fought some Nibel Wolves, “Who do you envision?”

“When I image myself getting married,” Cloud answered the older man who was practically his older brother, “the bride is always, always Aerith – no one else. When I see myself with children, raising them as a parent would it is always Aerith who's the mother of the children.” He swung his Fusion Sword through one of the beasts, cutting in half. “I know Aerith would want me to live as much as I can for as long as I can, which is why I still live today – because being without her is unbearable.”

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Vincent could not stop the pained groan that escaped him when he woke up, he could feel that Chaos had returned to him as he could feel the other's energy. As he looked around he realised that he was not alone as sleeping one the nearby couch was none other than Yuffie Kisaragi. Vincent barely understood why his heart skipped a beat to two just seeing her laying on her side fast asleep.

Knowing that she changed her attire every year or two, he took this time to examine what Yuffie was wearing. She wore a pair of knee-high brown boots, that were laced closed with yellow shoelaces, over a pair of long white socks that reached past her knees, a pair of brown shorts that reached the middle of her thighs – which he knew was for short for maneuverability, and a sleeveless cropped forest green shirt. Reaching over he adjusted her hitai-ei (“It's old Wutainese for 'forehead guard',” she said one day as they camped on their journey) which had shoulder-long tails.

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<h3 style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center; font-size: 20px; font-style: normal;">[Title Later] Focus: Barret, Cloud, Denzel, Marlene, Tifa

Barret stared out of the window, focused on nothing in front of him. He could still remember Myrna, his wife who had died nearly ten years ago now by the hands of the Shinra soldiers (who had started a raging fire that consumed his birthtown) under the command of Damos Shinra. He could still smell Myrna's perfume on the wind when his emotions overwhelmed him, he still remembered how her curly black hair bounced as she walked. Closing his eyes, Barret could still recall how Myrna's brown eyes would light up with joy at even the simplest thing.

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“She's eleven-years-old now, i'n't she?” a dark haired woman, named Emily if he recalled correctly, asked him. “Yes, she is!” Barret could not stop himself from boasting “My little girl's now eleven!” Turning his attention to Marlene as she played with the woman's daughter, Victoria, in the yard with Denzel.

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“Tifa,” Cloud stated, his voice firm, “you're my sister, nothing more.” Tifa paused, she turned to look at him and saw that he was being sincere – more sincere than she thought he was when he spoke. “Oh,” was all Tifa could say as she returned to washing the beer mugs, “I see…”

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Cloud reached over and ruffled Denzel's light brown hair, causing the young teen to squawk and swat Cloud's hand away. He could tell that Denzel was happy about the action by how his blue eyes were lit up.

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“We're a family, kid,” Reeve told Denzel, “not by blood but by heart.” Adjusting his hold on Marlene, who was still napping with her head on his shoulder, he held out a hand to the blue-eyed teen. With a soft sigh, Denzel grabbed Reeve's offered hand with his own. “I'll admit,” Reeve said as they turned the corner that would lead them to the Seventh Heaven in Edge, “that there are smaller family units – Cid and Sierra are married and are expecting a child.” Glancing down at Denzel, Reeve could tell that the wavy haired teenage boy was contemplating what he was saying. “Then we have the largest family unit – consisting of Cloud, Barret, Tifa, Marlene, and yourself, Denzel. Remarkably, none of you share any blood between each other but have strong bonds.”

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“I'm not contradicting Reeve, but I'll clarify that we're a clan,” Vincent told Denzel and Marlene one day, “a clan made of at least three family units.” Sitting down beside them, watching the ducks on the lake, he continued, “A clan is merely a large family. Family don't have to get along all the time, but they often love each other strongly. Even if that family is made from bonds and friendship, it's still a family.” He fell quiet, thinking of his own family and Yuffie and Lucrecia held different roles in his personal family. It was only now that he began to realise that maybe, just maybe, Lucrecia was more his sister than his lover. Something that he knew Cloud had tried talk to him about.

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<h3 style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center; font-size: 20px; font-style: normal;">[Title Later] Focus: Shinra & Turks – Rufus, Reno, Rude, Cissnei, Yrena, Zheng

“Yrena,” Zheng ordered, “stand down. They are not our enemies.” The honey blonde Turk turned her head towards the older Turk, she pursed her lips together as her light brown eyes filled with annoyance.

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Yrena watched Zheng was he lay there, fast asleep, on the couch in their new office – all four of them, plus some others, were still the Turks under Rufus Shinra – in their new headquarters near Junon. Lately, she couldn't tear her eyes away from him for long. She observed how his eyes flickered about as he dreamed. Reaching over, as gently as she could, trying not to waken him, she brushed some of his shoulder-length black hair off of his face. Sighing softly, glancing outside of the window she saw that the sun was setting. Yrena stood up and went to her desk where she began to fill out paperwork that they needed to get done.

Hours later, when the sun was just rising, Zheng slowly sat up as he rubbed his eyes before he covered his mouth while yawning. Blinking away his sleep, he noticed Yrena was fast asleep – hunched over her desk, using her arms as a pillow. He found himself smiling softly, he knew that she was stubborn enough to work even when it was after their work hours. As he walked over, Zheng realised that the way his college was sleeping was not going to be good for her. Carefully, so that he did not wake her up, Zheng picked Yrena up and held her in his arms as he made his way back to the couch where he had been sleeping the past few hours. He laid her on the couch, taking off her shoes so that she would be more comfortable. Picking up the blanket that had fallen to the floor some time ago, he covered her with it then Zheng found himself placing a soft kiss near her ear.

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“Yrena,” Zheng said, “my mother is ill and she wants me to be with her for a few days. I…” He paused glancing away from her briefly, before he asked, “Would you like to come with me?”

“I would like to come with you to visit your mother,” she answered as she brushed her honey blonde hair out of her eyes, before she asked, “Where does your mother live?” With a faint smile, Zheng answered, “In Wutai, my birthplace.” Yrena was surprised, but not shocked, when he said that – she had noticed some things that only made sense if he was of Wutai descent, she bluntly asked, “What of your father, Zheng?”

Zheng's lips thinned as he pursed them in thought, it was a moment before he answered, “He is no longer part of my life – if he still lives.”

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“I ran away,” Zheng said, answering Yrena's unspoken question, “when I was fourteen-years-old.” Looking over at his companion, Zheng gave her a faint smile before he continued, “at that time I was upset at things – things that, when I look back, are insignificant in the grand scheme of life.” Sighing, he stood up and walked towards the kitchenette of his mother's small but cozy house. “Not long after I ran away,” Zheng said as he pulled out two cups from a cupboard, “I joined the Turks.”

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Leno was a member of the Turks, and he was walking towards the new offices for his rather small team of four and their boss. His bright red hair was pulled back into a ponytail which swayed as he walked, he knew that the office was provided by the W.R.O. and he also knew that it was located in Junon. He shielded his blue eyes against the reflective glare of sunlight. He rarely gave his real name to anyone that he did not trust, he might be willing to tell others that his surname was Menzel, which was the truth.

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“My name's spelled with an ell(</rp>L</rt>)</rp> ,” the man with bright red hair stated, his face displaying his irritation quite visibly, “not an arr(</rp>R</rt>)</rp> .” He was sitting behind a desk, his navy blue business jacket slung over the back of his chair, working on some sort of report.

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From the corner of the room, a man with dark blonde hair and light blue eyes watched as his sister danced with her boss – a black haired man named Zheng. Leno noticed the blonde man, he knew he was Yrena's older brother named Guiller Rixner.

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<h3 style="font-family: verdana; text-align: center; font-size: 20px; font-style: normal;">[Title Later] Focus: Mixed (Unsorted?) Everyone

<font color="#008000">''Introduction: It has been two years since the Tsviet Terror, and five years since the planet was endangered by the summoning of Meteor – which was around the time that a good friend joined the Lifestream, I can still recall how devastated Cloud was at her death – he still is. I, Reeve Ernesto, can't imagine what could happen to disturb the Planet once again. But I know that no matter what, even if I am the commission of the World Regenesis Organization - W.R.O. for short, I know that Avalanche can be counted on to save the world.''

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He spotted a person hurrying towards town, what had Silver's attention was that he – or she, he could not tell the person's gender from the distance – was wearing a hooded white robe that had red triangles along the sleeves and hemline as well as a red belt around the waist of the person. <font color="#008000">He barely caught the flashes of brown footwear.

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After he draped his white trenchcoat over Tifa's sleeping form, Rufus quietly knelt down beside the couch she was now resting on. Gently, he moved some of her dark brown hair from her face. A yawn escaped him before he could stop it, Rufus decided that perhaps taking a nap would not be so bad. Laying down on the floor next to the couch, Rufus gently held the bartender's hand with his own as he fell asleep.

Hours later, Tifa woke up and tried to stretch her arms above her head only to noticed that something was holding her hand captive. Realising that she would not be able to properly stretch herself she sat up, only for a white trenchcoat to fall onto her lap causing her to ask “Whose?” It was at this point she realised that what was holding her hand captive as a hand, looking down she saw Rufus Shinra sleeping with one arm supporting his head. “Why?” she found herself asking aloud.

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Cillian Branfort was a business man currently standing in front of Rufus Shinra, he was wearing a maroon suit which was accented by a deep blue necktie. Rufus observed how Cillian had combed his black hair back – a normal style for businessmen his father dealt with, Rufus recalled. Cillian's dark brown eyes flickered to the side, where Rufus had a calender hanging on the wall, almost nervously. “It appears, Mr. Branfort,” Rufus said, his voice holding a steely quality, “that you're hiding something. Care to talk about it?”

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“This,” Cid proclaimed, with one arm wrapped around Sierra's waist, gesturing to the airship behind them, “is the A.T.V. Guar—” interrupting her husband Sierra said, “It's W.P.A., dear.” Cid just grunted before continuing, “A.T.V. or W.P.A., whichever, it's the Guardian… At least that's its temporary name, haven't found something better.”

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“Uncle Cid,” Marlene asked as she looked up at the older blonde man with curiosity filling her brown eyes, “what does A.T.V. mean?” Cid glanced at his honourary niece briefly before he said, “It means 'Avalanche Transport Vessel'. For that matter, W.P.A., stands for 'World Protector Airship'. Now let me finish this, kid.”

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“Mother Gaea,” Cloud said as he gazed at the lands below the airship (The Guardian, or was it the Sentinel - he often forgot the name Cid gave it), “has something in store for us… All of us still living…” He turned around to see his friends and allies standing around listening – some had fought along side him five years ago, some began as enemies or simply obstacles, others were new to the team. “Whatever it is she has waiting for us,” he continued, “it's why some of us have be resurrected – returned to being alive.” Cloud was still surprised that he had become friends with Silver, especially after he realised who Silver was in the past.

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“I still don't know understand,” Sierra said quietly, talking to Tifa, “why many people think my name is spelled ' ess(</rp>S</rt>)</rp> - haitch(</rp>H</rt>)</rp> - ee(</rp>E</rt>)</rp> - arr(</rp><rt>R</rt><rp>)</rp> - ay<rp>(</rp><rt>A</rt><rp>)</rp> '. Cid did name the second airship he flew after me.” The bartender just the older woman a soft smile, letting her rant. “I mean, my name's spelled ' ess<rp>(</rp><rt>S</rt><rp>)</rp> - eye<rp>(</rp><rt>I</rt><rp>)</rp> - ee<rp>(</rp><rt>E</rt><rp>)</rp> - double<rp>(</rp><rt>R</rt><rp>)</rp> arr<rp>(</rp><rt>R</rt><rp>)</rp> - ay<rp>(</rp><rt>A</rt><rp>)</rp> '!”

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“I'm Yrena,” the light brown eyed woman said as she introduced the newer member of Avalanche to her own team, “and these are my colleges: the red haired man over there is Leno, the bald one is Rude, and this—” she continued as she placed a hand on the black haired man beside her, “is Zheng. It's nice to meet another girl of the Avalanche team.” Turning back to the woman with autumn brown eyes, Yrena asked “Who might you be?”

“Me?” the other woman asked, before she said, “Ah'm Emily…… That's all Ah wan' ta give righ' now.”

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Pulling her auburn hair a ponytail securing it with a yellow scrunchy, Sierra turned her attention to the problem of the machinery in front of her – turning the PHS into a portable videophone, and creating one for a quadrupedal being like her husband's friend whose name she could not recall at the time. She adjusted her work glasses, which were just regular round shaped glasses, up higher with both of her hands.

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<font color="#008000">Vincent glanced at Cloud, who stood closer to the yellow and white flowers that covered the church grounds, as he gripped the Princess Guard in his hand. No one knew why they had been lead there, but Marlene seemed to be the only one to realize what was happening, as she began bouncing on the balls of her feet as tendrils of green Lifestream rise out of the still ruined church grounds. The tendrils began to swirl around, clustering together in a female humanoid shape, then the green tendrils began to glow and coalesce. Soon the shape was now glowing so brightly that every had to shield their eyes. When the brightness of the Lifestream dimmed enough for people to look, Tifa could not stop her gasp of surprise. There, lying amongst the flowers, was none other than their cherished friend who's life had been cut short while she prayed for Holy, looking like she had merely gone to sleep. Light brown hair was splayed around her, and she still wore her red jacket over her pink dress. “Hi, Flower Lady,” chirpped Marlene, she continued to bounce even as Tifa tried to keep her still by placing a hand on the girl's shoulder, “you're back!”

<font color="#008000">Their friend slowly sat up and began to look around. Marlene could hear Grandma Elmyra begin to cry, she knew it was from joy – joy that her child had returned. “Hey,” he said, “how are you feeling?” Their friend looked up, brilliant green eyes full of life blinking before she carefully stand up. She looked around before she waved her hand with a smile on her face. “Hey guys,” she chirpped, “I'm back.” Cloud smiled before he said, “Welcome back, Aerith.”

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Shelke picked up a leather bound journal from the desk in front of her, covered in dust from years of neglect – which was to be expected, she knew. Opening the journal to a random page and noticed that the writing had been written by a feminine hand instead of a masculine hand as she had expected – based on the furniture of the room she was in. Ignoring the handwriting itself, Shelke focused on the scripture that was written inside.

''16 April 1982, Mu-era There's an obscure myth, which was last recorded in the town – Hartville, I think the name was – that was built way back in the year 1253 of the Mu-era, about a daemon named Harmony. That myth spoke of how she and her soulmate, a being named Chaos, had been torn from each other before they could wed……no, I think the term was “to be mated”. The myth also mentions that Euphia (who as formerly thought to be known as Carrie) and Zhao had sworn to the Planet that they'd do what they could to protect those who dwell upon its surface, and that they promised each other that they would always find each other – no matter what form they took……no matter how many years it took. I don't have the myth written down, and I don't recall all the details of the myth. I hope that someday, someone would be able to……I don't know, finish what my husband and I have started but can't finish ourselves. ═This entry was written by me, Ifalna Faremis.''

'Harmony? What is a daemon?' Shelke thought in confusion, then she became even more puzzled when she read that name of the writer, '……who is Ifalna Faremis?' Shaking her head to clear her thoughts for the time, she packed the journal into a clear plastic bag that Reeve had told to use when investigating old places.

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As she explored Nibelheim for the umpteenth time, Tifa came across an abandoned house. That was not surprising, what was surprising was that it was clearly burnt – evidence of the Burning of Nibelheim that the former president of Shinra Coporation had tried to cover up – but had remained standing. Deciding that investigating the building was a good idea, she called Reeve as well as Cloud to tell them what she had found. Cautiously, she pushed open the front door, which creaked noisily causing her to wince from the pitch. Glancing around, she saw that the furniture she could tell that it once belonged to a married couple that loved each other deeply. Exploring the building, she found that it was standard for Nibelheim – a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen downstairs with two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Before she left the bedroom that the married couple had lived in, Tifa noticed that………

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As she investigated a room that, based on the equipment, had once belonged to a scientist of some sort – maybe someone they already knew. But it was clear that it did not belong to the mad scientist known as Hojo Saevus, as there was no stain – blood or otherwise, anywhere. Tifa picked a small leather bound journal, not bothering to read it, and placed it inside of a plastic bag that Reeve had given her a week ago.

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Mu-era 1965 March 12

<p style="text-align: center;"> ''Harmony and Chaos – two daemon. United in both purpose and soul, and bound by love. Opposite in some things but equals in others.''

''That is the only remaining fragment that we could translated from the ancient Cetran runes written on a stone tablet that was found in a temple that was near the eastern coast of the continent, the temple is a fair ways south of Costa del Sol. I think that there is more to these two daemon. I have reason to believe that the word 'daemon' refers to a protective entity that helps guard the living……''

''Chaos and Harmony, opposites but equals……if I'm correct, this single translation is all that remains of the daemon Harmony…… There might be myths and legends concerning this second daemon. My assistant and I have found more knowledge of the daemon Chaos, or more correctly Final Chaos. G.V.''

Reeve blinked in surprise when he read what was written in the small leather bound journal, still covered in dust, that Tifa had found last week. He knew that she had found it somewhere in an abandoned house that had, strangely, survived the Burning of Nibelheim around ten years ago. With a quick shake of his head, he returned his attention to the small journal and, curious to see if there was anything more, began flipping through the pages until he found one that read:

Mu-era 1969 October 3

''I think that Harmony can restore lives while Chaos, according to my research on him, takes lives – especially if he is Final Chaos…when Omega awakens. This, I believe, is to maintain the balance of life. If……one daemon has a host, the other must as well. G.V.''

The initials puzzled Reeve, '…who's G<rp>(</rp><rt>gee</rt><rp>)</rp>. V<rp>(</rp><rt>vee</rt><rp>)</rp> .?' Shaking his head, he realised that he was going to need help. “It'll be like five years ago,” he said aloud, ruefully and only caught Shelke's puzzled tilt of her head, “when we were chasing down an enemy and saved the Planet for the first time.”

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“My name is spelled wye<rp>(</rp><rt>Y</rt><rp>)</rp> - arr<rp>(</rp><rt>R</rt><rp>)</rp> - ee<rp>(</rp><rt>E</rt><rp>)</rp> - enn<rp>(</rp><rt>N</rt><rp>)</rp> - ay<rp>(</rp><rt>A</rt><rp>)</rp> ,” the honey blonde woman hissed at the W.R.O. administrator, her eyes flashed dangerously, “not ee<rp>(</rp><rt>E</rt><rp>)</rp> - ell<rp>(</rp><rt>L</rt><rp>)</rp> - ee<rp>(</rp><rt>E</rt><rp>)</rp> - enn<rp>(</rp><rt>N</rt><rp>)</rp> - ay<rp>(</rp><rt>A</rt><rp>)</rp> not even as eye<rp>(</rp><rt>I</rt><rp>)</rp> - arr<rp>(</rp><rt>R</rt><rp>)</rp> - eye<rp>(</rp><rt>I</rt><rp>)</rp> - enn<rp>(</rp><rt>N</rt><rp>)</rp> - ay<rp>(</rp><rt>A</rt><rp>)</rp> .”

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Lunéville was a bustling city port, north-west of Rocket Town, that had access to three different beaches. It was a resort town, but not one that was as well known as Costa Del Sol.

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“I'm no longer being influenced by Jenova,” Silver said, “even if I'm the only being with the most… J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells than anyone else I know.” Tilting his head slightly, he puzzled something over before he said, “At that time I didn't care if I was causing people to suffer, I was aware of pain and suffering I brought about… But I was influenced, not controlled, by Jenova.”

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“ J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells are too tightly bound to a being,” he said, “which means if I, or that parasite Jenova, were to absorb the J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells out of the being and into my being…” He paused to brush his silvery-grey fringe out of his eyes. “I could end up killing that being whose J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells I've absorbed.” Looking at Cloud, his seagreen eyes locking with the other's bright blue eyes, Silver said, “That is how the Reunion would've been like – me absorbing J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells from other beings and killing them in the process. Did that make any sense to you, Cloud?”

Cloud hummed in thought, furrowing his brows before he answered with “Somewhat.” He glanced over to where the children were playing. “If I understand correctly,” Cloud said with a calm voice, “if you absorb J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells from someone, that person could die…” Looking back at the man he had once believed to be his nemesis, Cloud continued, “… J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells are now part of a person's genetic makeup – if a person was injected, or born in your case, with J<rp>(</rp><rt>jay</rt><rp>)</rp> -cells. Right?” Silver simply confirmed Cloud's summary by saying, “Yes.”

<p style="font-family: verdana; font-style: normal; text-align: center; font-size: 14px;"><font style="font-family: verdana; margin-bottom: 0in;">-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+- “Didn't that Kadaj, I think that was the name, from three years ago,” Silver inquired, “absorb the head of Jenova into his body which awakened me?”

They were watching the children play in the backyard of the Seventh Heaven bar in Edge. “Now that I think about it,” Cloud answered, “it's very likely the case.”

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The rays of sunlight were shining in the room, through the open window. Marlene burrowed her face into her pillow, attempting to block out the sunlight.

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