Disclaimer: Final Fantasy Dissidia 012 does not belong to me.
Setting: When Vaan lets her go
Terra sat on the edge of the Pandaemonium, letting her legs swing on the open terrain. Her eyes stared past her pointed, white boots, vacantly watching a swirl of darkness curl and invitingly tease her with an echo of groans, saying, "Come."
She could imagine their hands reaching at her ankle, wrapping around her waist, and covering her mouth, dragging her into their world, away from this one. And she would not scream when they drag her away. Instead, she would embrace the change for once, of finally being free from the destruction that she was forced to participate.
She heard it groan, pleading for a new soul to join with the rest of the others. Although, did the darkness below her feet contain lost souls, participants of the past wars, or was it merely a black cloud that the gods made?
She really didn't know. Every time she had fallen, she could never discover what lay underneath. The warp—as she and the others like to call it—saved her the instant she drew close.
She then rose on her feet and watched the darkness shriek as a few tendrils of darkness ranked up the walls like vines, reaching for her feet. She tilted her head, a few wisps of her blond hair slipped past her collarbone. Then, she took a step back, bringing a hand to her chest.
Slowly, the groans grew quiet, and she heard instead the sound of footsteps approaching from behind. They took one more final tap, and she was left listening to the sound of her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She dare not look behind, afraid that the last person she wanted to see would be behind her.
Then, a baritone voice, reeking of authority, peck at her ear, as a shiver ran down her spine.
"Oh, now this is a sight."
She turned on her heel when he played with a lock of her hair. His cold, alluring eyes took in her fright expression as a smirk began to pull at a side of his face, satisfied.
"Emperor…" she said, fearfully.
"What are you doing here?" He rested his staff underneath her chin, exposing her neck when he lifted her eyes to meet with his. "Did Kefka send you to be a bothersome pest to my ears?"
Her eyes grew wide at the mention of the insane man.
He enjoyed her fright with pleasure. "Ah, so the strings have been cut, and you are left without a master." He pulled his staff away from her flesh and instead took a step forward and placed a hand on her cheek. "Pitiful fool. He simply cannot cherish the mind of a puppet."
Terra pulled away and moved around him. "I'm no doll! I have a mind of my own!"
"A mind, you say." He chuckled at that. "You are meant for one purpose: to kill Cosmos' warriors."
She shook her head. "No! I don't want to kill anyone! That's wrong!"
"Wrong?" He took a step toward her. She pulled back from him, quickly. "You weren't protesting when you drew blood from your opponent."
She grew quiet, unsure of what to say.
He easily took the advantage to draw closer to her, watching with fascination that the ground beneath her feet began to glow. "Killing, my dear, is part of the game. It is what we are meant to do. It is what we enjoy." The moment she realized that a mine laid underneath her feet it was too late.
The blast went off, sending her flying toward a pillar. She heard her back smack against it before it crumpled into rubble as the wall nearby instead took her flying form with a sickening slap. She yelped and landed on the ground, face forward.
She pushed her body, moaning as she did, and saw in front of her his golden boot. Slowly, she looked up, taking in his golden armor mixed with purple and strips on his breastplate. The demonic faces on his kneecaps and above his hip resembled his own transformation of hell. She took in his cape around his shoulders and noticed on top of his head a snake rested on his erratic hair. No doubt the man represented evil itself.
She coughed slightly; her mouth tasted like copper.
"It is what the gods have made us to be," he finished educating her. He crouched before her, planting the end of his staff to the ground.
She tiredly closed her eyes, waiting for the final blow. "Kill me if you must. I won't go back to him."
He began to mess with her free hair that was not constrained in her ponytail.
"A woman asking for death?" He rubbed two strands of her hair against his forefinger and thumb, eliciting a chill to run down her back. "If you are so willing to die, then I shall allow you to live where you can suffer on what you've done. After all, a dead body will never grieve, unlike a live one."
She shook her head, refusing to believe that he was letting her go easily.
"If you are truly a Warrior of Chaos, then death should be my punishment for defying against the god who owns her." She looked straight into his eye. "Kill me unless you wish to face consequence."
He laughed once more. His hand grabbed her chin forcibly, bringing her face closer to his.
"Consequence, my dear?" He smirked at the silliness of that. "I doubt it. The one who should fear consequence should be you. Death—you may have evaded. Punishment, however, you did not."
He felt her warm breath on his lips. "You will be my slave as you served him."
Her expression became one of fright. He enjoyed her fear as much as he enjoyed planting his lips against her own. She struggled from his hold, hitting his chest with her weak fists. He rather enjoyed her persistence of pushing him away. It made the game of conquering quite entertaining.
Suddenly, and without expecting her to put on a fight, he was met with a burst of water exploding underneath his feet. He flew up in the air and twisted his body to miss the tramped of water bursting from underneath. When he landed on the ground, he skidded to halt, fingers rubbing against the concrete, while his left hand gripped his staff, tightly.
"I'll never be yours!" she shouted. "I'll never be that doll again!" She dashed away from him before he had the chance to retaliate with attack of his own. He wanted to chase after her, but he never had the chance when Kefka came bouncing on his feet, looking around the destruction with admiration.
"Oh my, I can't believe you had fun without me!"
The Emperor turned away from him. He felt Kefka tiptoe near his side, fingers curling rapidly.
"You, by any chance, have not seen my puppet, have you?"
He sent the jester a scowl.
"Why the long face, handsome?" Kefka grinned. "Lose to another battle? Not my fault you can't put up a fight."
"Hold your tongue, buffoon, before I cut it out!"
"Wooo! Is that a threat? I heard better ones from the others." Kefka laughed and floated into the air on his side. His legs were crossed and a hand lay underneath the side of his head.
"Don't get mad. Besides, who was the warrior that made you all tense anyway?"
He looked toward the direction Terra had run off as he smirked at a thought.
"A nobody wishing for death. Hardly important." He moved his feet forward and turned to the jester. "Come, Garland wishes for an audience.
"Oh, what does that heap of metal want now? Can't he see I am looking for my pet?" Kefka lowered his feet to the ground.
"Your little puppet is not important as of right now." Kefka began to protest, loudly. The Emperor ignored him and continued, "Other matters must be attended to. Time is of importance."
"Other matters, you say. Well, it better be important!" he screeched, angrily. In a whirl of darkness, he disappeared, leaving the Emperor, alone.
The Emperor took one final glance of where she had disappeared before he allowed himself to smile. "Revenge may not be mine but the hordes of Manikins flocking outside will give you what you desire of what I could not."
He tilted his head back and laughed. The darkness claimed him and sent him on his way toward the others. Terra, as she ran into the night, couldn't help but shudder when fear claimed her heart.