The Last Summoner
Chapter 1: Lady Yuna, the Cetra?
Pre-story Notes: (Minor spoilers)
Gorkii is one of the Wutai bosses you fight as Yuffie in FF7, not an OC. Since we don't know his role prior to FF7, I'm taking some liberties.
[speech] instead of "speech" is speech in Wutai.
I'm making the connection between FF7 and FF10 an actual thing in this story.
Tag applied to this story: In-game Magic doesn't work that way! To bad.
Yuna's ears were ringing.
"Spira is a land of suffering and sorrow, caught in a spiral of death."
It was cold, so cold, the winds of Mount Gagazet were cruel and uncaring.
"To destroy-to heal-Spira, I will become Sin."
Blood... there was so much blood...
"Your hope ends here."
It was... her blood...?
"And your meaningless existence with it!"
There was a sharp, aching pain through her stomach, and she felt weightless... no, she was being... lifted...?
"Death awaits you."
"YUNA!" came a collective scream.
Yuna hazily looked upward, at the monstrous form of Seymour, floating off the edge of the cliff they had battled him on, lifting her up with... with a spear impaled right through her body. The white sash wrapped around her chest and shoulders stained red with blood and dirt from fighting. Her purple flower-patterned dress covering her lower body was ripped and stained. The yellow patterned obi she wore, crinkled and pressured by the spear through it. Her kimono sleeves hung limply, blood running down them and her arms. Her staff hung loosely in her death-grip, the only thing she could barely hang on to as darkness swam across her vision.
"A shame," came Seymour's metallic, cruel voice, "That you would die for these pitiful mortals, when they were supposed to die for you, the creed of the Guardians, failed."
She weakly looked back on her friends, on a shocked Tidus, still on the ground where she had pushed him out of the way of the lethal impalement she had suffered in his stead. "I'm... sorry... everyone..."
"You could have been so much more," mused Seymour, "Still, I will merely find another. You are hardly the only Summoner making the pilgrimage after all."
Nausea took over Yuna as Seymour swung his spear and cast Yuna off it like she was trash, off the mountain, plummeting through icy cold and biting winds. She weakly looked down on the ground rising to greet her as she rushed down to meet it, and she closed her eyes one final time. There was a brief moment of impact and horrific shattering pain, and then...
Yuna was, needless to say, surprised when she awoke in a bed in what looked like a hut at first glance at the ceiling. She felt... faint... weak. Naked under blankets, save for what felt like bandages over wounds. She noted her staff leaning against the wall nearby. The sound of water being wrung out of a wash cloth was heard, and she managed to turn her head. There was a woman, black hair and eyes, eyes shaped narrow, face taunt with concern, she was wrapped in a simple black and white Kimono. The woman reached the wet wash cloth towards Yuna's forehead, pausing with surprise when she noted Yuna was awake.
She spoke... and Yuna had absolutely no idea what she was saying. It wasn't Al-Bhed, nor the common tongue. "I... don't understand..."
The woman paused, her eyebrows furrowed warily, but resumed her tending. She brushed the cloth along Yuna's forehead and then face. Yuna let her, not that she could have stopped her as weak as she felt. She wearily closed her eyes, taking deep, ragged breaths. Her body ached...
"Where... am I...?" she rasped out, opening her eyes to look at the woman.
The woman didn't respond, and instead gently corrected Yuna's head to face towards the ceiling, resting the damp washcloth gently on her forehead. It was... soothing, a light dull to the ache running through her. The woman stood and left the room, and Yuna heard hushed voices exchanged. Several minutes later, a gruff looking man in layered light-blue armor entered the room. He had thinly cut hair, and brown whisker-like beards froim the side of his chin.
"You are whom?" he asked in common, his voice and accent sounding unused to the tongue.
"I... I'm Yuna...," she managed.
"Are you Shinra?" the man demanded.
Her eyebrows furrowed. "Shinra...?"
The man studied her, scrutinizing in a way she recognized, the way the Priests of Yevon would look for the unfaithful, for liars and deceivers. Bitterness grew in her at the thought. Yevon was the true liars, the deceivers...
"Shinra did to you?" he said, motioning to the center of her blanket.
Yuna shook her head, and while she doubted they would believe her, since her attacker had been a Maester, she tried anyway, "Seymour... Guado."
There was not an ounce of recognition at the name.
"A SOLDIER?" he asked.
There was something... odd about the way he said that, as if it wasn't the same as a regular soldier. "No... I... where am I?"
"Wutai," the man said, filled with the pride of a man speaking of his home.
Except Yuna had absolutely no clue where that was.
"Found outside of village," the man said slowly, putting effort into his words, "Near shrine."
"Shrine...?" she asked, did they mean a Temple?
"Old, overrun by nature, by mako," said the man, "Covered you were, blood and the Planet lifeblood. Did not think you live."
"I'm... surprised too," she said, a faint chuckle escaping her lips.
It made no sense. She should be dead, no, she had died. She had felt the crushing impact, and if somehow that hadn't killed her, she had lost far to much blood to have survived on top of that. She felt awful right now, but no where near what she should feel. And what did he mean by 'Planet lifeblood'? By mako?
"Don't... understand...," she whispered, so tired...
The man studied her for a moment before sighing. "Sleep. Watch over you, Children of Leviathan do. In my bones, feel that should."
She smiled a little at his broken language, but understood, and appreciated it. "Thank... you..."
She didn't last much longer before exhaustion took her and she passed out.
Consciousness came and went several times, with various people there to tend to and question her. Most of it made no sense to her. She knew nothing of a war with any Shinra. The 'Demon of Wutai', Sephiroth, held no meaning to her. Nor did the names Genesis or Angeal. The Wutai's leader Godo was unfamiliar to her, and that drew their surprise more than anything, all of their questions just seeded confusion. Which, on top of her condition, induced far more stress than she needed right now.
If she had any energy, she'd take care of her wounds herself. Actually...
"E...ether...," she managed to ask in her latest awakening, to that same armored man.
The man gave her a quizzical look. "You no materia."
What in the world was a materia?
She shook her head and pleaded again. "Please..."
The man frowned briefly before leaving and returning a minute later with what she assumed was an ether. It was in a different type of bottle than what she recognized, it's hue a slightly different color. Tasted about the same when he brought it to her lips, a bitter nastiness. She made a face at that, but quickly turned that into a relieved smile when she felt her energy return to her.
She placed a hand on the blanket, over her midsection. "Curaga."
There was an audible gasp from the man as white light spilled from her fingertips and poured through the blanket into her body. She groaned slightly as the wounds she figured they had stitched closed properly mended. Her body still ached, but it was much better now. She sighed with relief and turned to look at the man. "Thank you."
She was... relatively surprised to see the man staring at her in awe. "Cetra..."
What in the world was a Cetra?
Her eyes went a little wide to see him kneel at the foot of her bed, bowing his head in reverence. It had happened enough as a summoner, but, they didn't know of her, there was no recognition. But a bit of white magic had him in awe and calling her 'Cetra'? There was something weird going on. She made to sit up before her blanket started to fall away. She blushed and yanked it back up to cover herself.
"Um... can I get some clothes?" she asked.
The man rose and turned away. "Mending. Bad condition. Will check."
She was about to tell him there was no need to rush on her behalf, she could wear something else, but he was already gone. She sighed and laid back down. Her head turned as loud and excited voices speak. The first woman peaked back in, and hesitantly walked over, lifting off Yuna's blanket and checking the bandages, astonished to see the wounds mostly gone.
"Umm... could you take out the stitches?" Yuna asked.
The woman didn't understand, so Yuna made a pulling motion on one of them sticking out. The woman nodded in understanding, and laid an apologetic hand on Yuna's shoulder before gently, but sharply, pulling the stitches out one by one. Yuna bore through the sharp pains, she had suffered worse on her pilgramage. Afterwards, she cast another Curaga on herself, healing the last of the physical wounds, but not the tiredness still plaguing her. The woman tending to her looked astonished, wide eyed, reverent...
And that particular look continued as Yuna slowly recovered her strength throughout the next few days.
Children peeked in at her and whispered in foreign tongues.
Other men and woman checked in, and when she turned her head to look at them, they shyly slipped away.
Soldiers came in an asked for her blessing, only for the first soldier to scold them and run them off, saying that "Cetra need rest, do not bother."
Finally, her clothes were brought back, restored to pristine condition, and the first woman helped her get dressed. When Yuna gave her a smile and decided she had been rude not to ask the woman's name; the woman merely bowed her head and rushed out when asked, mumbling in her tongue.
The soldier came in a moment later, and when Yuna asked, he merely said, "Says herself unworthy."
Yuna sighed. "I'm not an object of worship."
The man regarded her, the reverence still in his eyes, but also much more controlled respect. "Rested are you?"
Yuna nodded and bowed. "Yes, thank you for tending to me."
When she rose back up, the man was blushing furiously. "No thanks need you give. Glad to help Cetra we are."
Yuna gave him a puzzled look. "What is a 'Cetra'?"
The man frowned a little, his blush fading, before turning thoughtful. "Our word for your people."
Yuna had a people? Did they mean Al-Bhed? Summoners? People from Besaid?
"If may ask," the man humbly began, "Lady Yuna, have you come help Wutai?"
"I... have no idea where I am," she admitted, "Last I knew, I was on a pilgrimage, that I... I had died."
The man seemed to struggle with her wording. "Hmm. No one there, who had harmed you. Found alone. Know not how you came to Wutai."
Yuna frowned unhappily. "Do... you know anyone named Tidus?"
Yuna was downcast by the end of it and sighed. "I... guess I am alone then."
"Who they?" he asked quietly.
"My friends, my companions," she said, "My guardians."
The man nodded slowly. "Keep an ear to the wind I will for them."
She gave him a smile. "Thank you."
She refocused her attention. "What exactly does 'Wutai' need help with? This... 'war' you mentioned?"
The man's face turned dark. "Shinra," he spat out, "Come with death. Desire to bleed land of Planet Lifeblood with reactor. Wutai refused, Shinra wage dishonorable war. Destroy villages, murder innocent, all for greed."
Yuna might be missing out on some of the specifics, but her eyes narrowed at the notion of entire villages wiped out. No people nor nation that did such was good and just. And while she knew little of these 'Wutai', they had showed her kindness, reverence, so she would stand with them as she got her bearings. "I will help you."
Pure relief played across his face and he bowed low. "Thank you."
He righted himself. "Many injured by last battle, brought here to village. Help them with magic of life?"
Yuna nodded, grabbed her staff, and walked towards the exit. "Take me to them."
The village she found herself in was similar to Besaid in a way, with huts scattered around of various shapes and sizes. Some wooden buildings, a temple-like structure off in the distance. At the center of the village was a cluster of woman trying to rapidly tend to many injured soldiers. The wounds were awful, many were missing limbs, or slowly bleeding out, deep gashes and scrapes, burns of fire and lightning, or frosty blue from what looked like ice magic. She let her gaze wash over the makeshift medical area, and closed her eyes. A soft sigh escaping her lips.
She opened them and began ordering, "Please set any bones that are broken first."
The group of woman paused and looked at her, wide-eyed and waiting. The soldier that escorted her barked out a translation, she assumed, in his native tongue. Yuna waited patiently, feeling the life of the wounded ebbing. Finally, when she got a nod, she took a deep breath, and reached for her power. She focused her magic on each presence and cried out, raising her staff into the air. "Curaga!"
A large glow of energy surrounded the mass of wounded, embedding into their bodies and sealing their wounds. A reverent hush took over the town as Yuna lowered her staff, and so many knelt before her. She paid it little heed, feeling a it woozy after such a large healing. Maybe she should have taken it easy... no, people needed her.
The soldier placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and she gave him an appreciative nod. He led her to a bench to sit on, and called for water, in the form of a clay jug. She graciously took a drink, and handed it back after. "What's your name?"
The soldier paused briefly before bowing again, "Gorkii."
"Is it... always that bad?" she asked quietly, motioning to the former wounded.
Gorkii frowned, nodding grimly, "SOLDIERs, powerful, overwhelming. Destructive and murder. Wutai are brave, but SOLDIER, unmatched. Crescent Unit barely match weakest."
So Wutai was losing then, probably badly. If Yuna was to do anything, she would need to pull out all the stops and...
She couldn't feel them.
She froze for a moment.
She couldn't feel her summons. Any of them.
She bowed her head, as to not show her shock and fear. If she didn't have her summons... how could she even hope to make a difference? Lulu had barely taught her offensive magics; her dedication was to healing, not destruction.
She looked up at Gorkii with sorrow. "I'm a healer, not a warrior. I... I can try to help, but I..."
The man nodded. "Cetra, givers of life, tenders of planet. Not fouled with bloodshed. You help us, we protect you, protect Wutai."
"I'll do what I can," she said quietly.
Gorkii nodded solemnly, but said no more. They watched as the villagers helped the wounded to their feet and sorted them out, passing back weapons and armor, or moving them out of the way if they could fight no more with lost limbs. Yuna briefly tried to listen to passing conversations, most she figured were about her, but...
"Gorkii," she asked, "Can you teach me to speak your language?"
The man looked surprised at her request, and then his chest puffed a bit. "My honor teach you, Lady Yuna. For Cetra learn Tongue of Leviathan, great honor."
She gave a small smile as she settled in to learn her first words of Wutai...
She set out with the Wutai a day later. With the soldiers returning to the war-front. Gorkii at her side as her self-appointed protector. They walked through a stretching wood, beautiful nature that she took her time to admire as they walked. Gorkii had managed to teach her enough in passing that she was comfortable not completely butchering his language.
[Beautiful], she said, working on her Wutain pronunciation.
Gorkii nodded. "Children of Leviathan treasure our world."
She smiled at that.
Gorkii held up a hand to pause and motioned Yuna over to a bush, she watched curiously as he knelt down and gently lifeted an almost invisible string up. [Traps for Shinra, our land is beautiful, but deadly].
He motioned her down, and the others briefly away, before he yanked it. Yuna's eyes went wide to see a bladed swing come down from the treetops at a speed that would have taken their heads off.
[Always watch your feet], he warned before switching back to common, "Reset trap, then hurry on."
A few soldiers stayed behind to do so, while the group picked up the pace. Gorkii kept pointing out types of traps littered around the woods, and Yuna could appreciate how Wutai was still standing if they were losing as badly as she thought they were. An army could not move through these woods without suffering potentially heavy casualties. So either they suffered them, or took it extremely slow. She did her best to press the kinds of traps and locations the Wutai used to her memory, both to protect herself, and maybe ward off any enemies.
Several hours of walking later, the sounds of a battle echoed ahead. They rushed forward and came across another village. It was half in flame, with civilians fleeing, screaming. Mothers clutching their children, soldiers in retreat, elderly trying to hobble away. Behind them, Yuna caught her first sight of Shinra. The defining feature, from what she could see, was their weird three-eyed helmet that shinned red that accompined their bland blue clothes and armor. The second was the guns, lots and lots of guns. They gunned down anyone in their way and strode over the corpses. There were a few Shinra without helmets, carrying swords, fighting with what few Wutai remained, but Yuna paid them no heed over the butchers murdering civilians.
Yuna clenched her fists tightly in rage and raised her staff high into the sky, tapping heavily into her magic. "Mend those who have fallen! Life!"
Light shined down from the skies, touching those who had fallen with it's grace. Then utter chaos spread through the battlefield around the village as those who had fallen returned to the battlefield, often right next to or behind the gunmen, and pounced. Without a distance to shoot from, the Shinra's gunmen were butchered. Yuna sagged a bit under the effort of her spell. Focusing her power to mend large quantities of people rather than her small group of Guardians was exhausting. She had almost completely depleted her reserves with one spell. She shook her head and refocused, taking note all the sudden of the sword carrying Shinra.
They moved at inhuman speeds with inhuman strength. Her eyes went wide to see swords sever completely through a person, cutting them in half. She brought a hand up to her mouth in horror. "What are they?"
Gorkii was one of the few who did not join the battle, standing around Yuna as an honor guard of sorts. "SOLDIER."
They moved so fast, and the only way the Wutai seemed to be able to take any of them down was to surround them. The more agile of the SOLDIERs seemed impossible to defeat. Yuna... was uncertain her team of Guardians could have defeated a large number of these SOLDIERs at once. Faster than Rikku, stronger than Sir Auron, tougher than Kimahri. It was insane to watch. She fingered her staff gingerly, weighing her reserves, enough for one more mass cast.
"Hastega!" she cried out, letting the spell burst from her staff and wash over the Wutai.
The odds more evened, they cut down a number of the SOLDIERs before they turned and fled. Yuna collapsed to the ground, Gorkii's quick action the only reason she didn't smash her head. He helped her to a sitting position as the Wutai began to cheer for their victory. [Ether! Someone bring an Ether for the Cetra Lady Yuna!]
A sudden hush washed over the battlefield, as those who hadn't arrived with them turned to look at her in disbelief or awe, a number of them rushing over to hand her bottles. She guzzled them down greedily, and took a few to attach to her belt. [Thank you].
Gorkii allowed them a minute to gawk or bow or kneel or chant 'Cetra!' in awe of her before he waved them back to the village and started barking orders to put out fires, repair damage, and barricade as best they could. She watched, still sitting on the ground, as the Wutai began to rally and move, and felt a small hope for them. Even if it was only one or two mass castings, it turned the tide of a battle. Yet... for a war, was this a big battle? Or just a skirmish? There couldn't have been even a hundred combatants here.
She shook her head silently and watched at the Wutai began to drag out the bodies of the fallen, sorting them by nationality from what Yuna could figure. The Wutai were to badly maimed, or had already chosen to depart, and she knew better than to revive an enemy. She sighed softly and waited for them to finish before she rose to her feet and made her way over. She still had a duty, as a Summoner, to preform here, even if she could no longer summon, even if she had failed her Pilgrimage.
There was no background chorus of people as she hopped on a foot and began to spin and dance, starting off a Sending. The Wutai didn't appear to know or understand the ritual, so she sang the Hymn of the Faith herself. With a otherworldly grace, she spun and dance, her staff parting the air. Slowly, the bodies of the fallen began to disperse, but rather burst into pyreflies, they turned into wisps of green energy that funneled around her, panicked and fearful, seeking, no, begging her guidance. Her heart cried out for the lost souls, and bid them to find their rest in the Farplane. Instead of dissipating, they rose and surged through the air around her, before slowly falling and settling into the ground. Oddly, some of the bodies resisted, despite her focus on them. The bodies of the SOLDIERs stayed and twitched, so she began again, staff spinning, body twirling and twisting, until they did finally depart...
...as a unsettling mixture of green and black energy.
She frowned as the last of the souls sank into the earth and began their journey to the Farplane. Something was very strange about the land she now found herself in, whatever it was, she hoped to find out soon enough...
Standing in a command tent looking over a map of the Wutain continent, stood a tall, silver haired man. Imposing, straightforward, and dressed in black leathers. His eyes a sharp glowing catlike pair. He rubbed his chin in thought, glancing at the gathered captains, weighing the odds of them actually being able to do what he tasked of them rather than bungle it. The Wutai were clever, cunning, and dangerous, more so as they pushed deeper into their territory. Casualties had started, and stayed massive for Shinra because of incompetence.
Unless Genesis or Angeal was here, he had a lack of trust in any commander to not butcher anything more complex than 'march and take this town'.
Perhaps it was unfair, but the current campaign into Wutai had been far to slow for his tastes...
He paused and frowned, turning as a panicked messenger ran into the tent. "What is it?"
"Survivors from the assault on one of the outer villages just returned," the young man said, breathless, "They were massacred."
"Which village?" questioned Sephiroth, "There were a number being attacked at once."
The name was given, and Sephiroth frowned thoughtfully, "I assigned a number of 3rd class SOLDIERs under the command of a 2nd, considering the detachment of infantry that took, I'm rather surprised. Bring one of the survivors in."
A minute later, a bloody 3rd class walked in. Sephiroth took a brief pity and cast a Full-Cure on him, noting with irritation that a medic should have tended to the survivors immediately rather than waiting for someone to order them to. "What happened?"
"The assault was going as planned," began the SOLDIER slowly, "We were mopping up when reinforcements arrived. A bunch of Wutai and someone not-native. The latter completely fucked us over."
Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "Avalanche?"
"I'm not sure. She's dressed kind of native, but, didn't look Wutain," said the SOLDIER.
"Describe her," said Sephiroth.
The man did so, unfortunately, Sephiroth had no knowledge of anyone important by that description. "And how exactly did one woman turn the tables on what was a clear cut victory?"
"All-Life," spat the SOLDIER, "I think it was anyway, revived more than I had ever seen before. Must have been mastered or something, she revived basically the entire Wutain defense force. Found ourselves surrounded, infantry was butchered in seconds, the rest of the SOLDIERs fought as best we could, but she did some kind of mass-battlefield wide haste spell, we were slaughtered."
Sephiroth tilted his head thoughtfully, weighing the impact this could have on the war. "Genesis is capable of extreme spellcraft like what you describe. It seems the Wutai have found an equal in such regards. Though it is surprising to reach such a level without enhancements, and clever to wait until the troops had passed over the dead. Or well timed."
The man hesitated. "I... stuck around briefly to spy, try to see if I could either get a shot at the woman, or learn something."
Dangerous to stay, bold, but hopefully with results. "And?"
"The spells wiped her out pretty hard, and I got a name. They chanted her name, 'Yuna'," said the man, hesitating again, "They called her a 'Cetra'."
Sephiroth blinked. "As in an Ancient? That's preposterous, the Ancients died out thousands of years ago."
"I thought so to, sir," said the man, unsettled, "I figure it's some kind of moral thing for them at first, but..."
"But?" prompted Sephiroth.
"She danced," said the SOLDIER, "She danced, and she sang, and the dead of the battle turned into this weird green mist that fell into the ground. I've... never seen anything like it. It... was one of the most beautiful, and terrifying things I've ever seen. I don't know if she's really is an Ancient or not, but..."
"Perhaps she is, perhaps she isn't," said Sephiroth slowly, stretching it out to allow him a moment of rapid thought, weighing possibilities and outcomes, "Truth or not, this 'Yuna' is someone we will have to work around or deal with. I want word and descriptions spread, and for her to be a priority target, either for capture or to be taken out. A magic user of such a level could drastically set back our campaign if used in a more important battle than a mere outer village."
He frowned briefly before ordering, "And someone get me Genesis on the phone, I don't care what time it is back at HQ. I want his thoughts on this development, and any suggestions he would give."
"Ain't he your rival, why'd you ask him?" questioned the SOLDIER.
Sephiroth stared at him, hiding his incredulous at the continual stupidity and incompetence around him. "He is an ally and an asset, not a rival. His experience and thoughts could be invaluable in this situation. Not asking for something as insignificant as pride is foolish, and will get my men killed."
Despite how much Genesis went on and on about pride, glory, being the hero and the center of attention, Sephiroth had never honestly cared about such things. He was here, he had a job to do, an army to run and an enemy to defeat, and that was it. He dismissed the SOLDIER and waited patiently until one of the captains brought him a phone.
A disgruntled yawn echoed through the phone. "What is it Sephiroth? Some of us are trying to sleep."
"I request your advice on a developing situation in Wutai," he answered.
Genesis scoffed. "What? Something the 'great and mighty' Sephiroth can't handle?"
Sephiroth resisted the urge to sigh, and simply said, "A spellcaster apparently on your level of skill and power has appeared for Wutai if reports are to be believed."
"Bullshit," said Genesis, voice coming fully awake and indignant, "There is no one, not even you, who is as good as I am."
"A battlefield wide life spell?" countered Sephiroth, "Followed by a battlefield wide haste spell?"
There was silence for a moment before Genesis spoke carefully, "Is this report accurate?"
"I am assuming so," said Sephiroth, "Considering the task force sent to subjugate the village in question, it wouldn't have failed without something so extreme. There is a possibility the SOLDIER in question lied, but if he did, there was no hint of it, and I consider myself..."
"Yes yes yes, I know, you can pick out someone lying like it's secondhand nature for you," said Genesis irritably, "Now, give me the full report you were given."
Sephiroth did so, but withheld the information of the spellcaster's name, supposed race, and her 'dance'. If only for but a moment to gauge Genesis's thoughts before and after being given the information.
Genesis worked it over for a moment before clarifying, "And he said they were mopping up? Not midway or at the beginning?"
"That's impossible," said Genesis, "I've cast all-life enough time myself to know what that combination can and cannot do. Life and Phoenix Downs are only viable for a few minutes, otherwise the soul will have fled the body. At the tail end of a battle, it should be impossible to revive an entire garrison at that point. Which, by the way, is numerically something even I couldn't do, not for lack of trying, but from the limits of the materia itself. It caps at roughly ten each, and the energy requirement to go higher is astronomically outrageous, I'd have to do several follow up casts to even come close to that number."
Sephiroth weighed those words carefully before speaking quietly, "The SOLDIER that brought me this report told me two additional pieces of information. The spellcaster in a non-native woman named Yuna, and that the Wutai called her a 'Cetra'."
Genesis coughed into the phone. "I beg your pardon?"
"You heard me," said Sephiroth before adding in thoughtfully, "If she is what the Wutai say she is, does that change what you said?"
Genesis was deadly silent for a few minute, but of course, when he spoke, it was a blasted quote from that play, "When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky, wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting."
Sephiroth didn't hold back a sigh this time. "Genesis..."
"It is said that the knowledge and wisdom of the Ancients is held in materia," said Genesis slowly, "If there is a living, breathing Cetra, then it stands to reason that she would be capable of magics beyond what we can do. Was there any other information he gave? Any other appearances or abilities he noted?"
"Nothing aside from the two mass spells having drained the supposed Cetra," said Sephiroth before he paused, "Unless you count dancing and turning the dead into mist as a ability of note."
"She can cause the planet to claim the bodies? At will?" questioned Genesis, an odd hint of awe to his voice.
Sephiroth frowned. He didn't necessarily agree with various theories or religions on why some dead dispersed and faded away while others didn't, but he wasn't going to insult and challenge his friend's belief just because he could. "Apparently. Otherwise, this is her first appearance that I know about."
"Hmmm," mused Genesis, "If there is a place in this world that could and would have housed and hidden the Cetra all this time, it would be Wutai. As improbable as it is, it is still a possibility, and a dangerous one. We know very little about their actual capabilities. That two massive spells drained the Ancient is obvious, if I could cast like that it would drain me as well. It might be to early to suggest a pattern, but it appears thus far she goes for a big impact, but will leave herself vulnerable in doing so. Either because she has something to prove, or she just wanted to make an impact."
Sephiroth agreed with the vulnerability part, "I wouldn't know personality wise."
"I wouldn't expect you to," said Genesis, but oddly, it wasn't in his usual jabbing tone, he was serious, "We might need a Turk over there at some point to compile a profile. I'll bring this information to Lazard and have him escalate it from there."
"You are that concerned?" questioned Sephiroth.
"Respectful," corrected Genesis, "If this new threat is really a Cetra, underestimating their power begs for trouble. Besides..."
Genesis's voice grew uncomfortable. "I am a believer in the old faith, and I respect those who follow those ways."
"Really," stated Sephiroth dryly, sarcasm bleeding through, "I hadn't thought that of you, what with you quoting passages about your Goddess every day."
Genesis huffed. "No need to be rude, you uneducated philistine."
Sephiroth's lips twitched. "Good night Genesis."
"Morning actually," said Genesis, "Oh, and Sephiroth? You know the company is going to want her alive."
Sephiroth was silent for a moment, mind drifting to their greedy buffoon of a president, and then to Hojo and his labs. "It would be kinder for a swift, merciful death."
"It's your hide, not mine," said Genesis with a snapping of a phone closing and the beep of a cut call.
"My hide indeed," mused Sephiroth, slowly closing the phone with a sigh, "And I am, as ever, Shinra's dutiful little SOLDIER..."
Author's Notes: Welcome to anooooother crossover into the FF7 universe, I just can't help myself with these. :D. I picked Seymour Flux as the GAME-OVER death battle because, frankly, that guy was a bitch on my first play through of FF10, kicked my ass so bad. Anyway, don't worry about Yunnie's summons, she'll be getting them back one-by-one in style. I'm also taking some liberties with magic and it's functions in this, hope ya'll don't mind to much.
(FF10 didn't have an All function if I recall for magics, though X2 did, as an example)