NOTE: This is a cooperative writing project between magistrate and Nomad. All characters, names and terms are copyright (©) Square, with the notable exception of those which we just made up. No profit is made by either author by this publication, and if someone else is making profit off of it, then they are plagurizing finks who are not sharing any of the money with us. Any reference to characters, places and events in Final Fantasy VIII is probably intentional, but in a non-copyright infringing way. All your base are belong to us.

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The prophecy has been passed down for generations, until it became a common household tale. Few do not know of the future Sorceress Ultimecia and her quest to destroy the universe, and time itself.

Unfortunately, the very fame of the story has worked against it, and what was meant as a dire warning is now little more than a children's story, containing nothing but falsehoods and hyperbole. While the heroes of the story are honored worldwide, the story itself is discounted as myth.

But now, a new and mysterious force has come to power, and a series of events are set in motion across the disbelieving world as the centuries-old prophecy begins to fulfill itself.

It is known that, if Ultimecia has truly come to power, she will fail in her goal. But it is also known that, in her quest to achieve it, millions will die. Now, as the world struggles to accept the truth, a new generation of SeeD must fight to fulfill the prophecy...and be destroyed.

Caught in the rising tide of violence between the confused present and the all-too-certain future are six teenagers. Now, faced with a hopeless battle and the end of the world they know, they must all come to terms with each other — and themselves — as they struggle to escape their destiny.


- - = = = |DESTINY| = = = - -
A Final Fantasy VIII Fan Fiction




He was alone.

The world around him was utterly black, a void absent of any light, sound, or sensation. He could feel the emptiness about him; he stood upright on an invisible ground, in the center of a vast eternal nothingness, a universe expanding to infinity but containing only him.



The word came to him so faintly that he was unsure if he had indeed heard it, or it had simply been a device of his imagination. But he did become aware of a deep, rhythmic pounding, which seemed to resonate through his entire body. He realized he was hearing his own heart beat.

Images were beginning to assert themselves in his mind; he felt he could recognize shapes in the scene before him, although his senses continued to insist that it was absolutely devoid of light. He could see, with his mind's eye, a crowded dining concourse filled with students in uniform; a snowy wood littered with motionless bodies, an intricate crystal beyond a large pane window, the deck of a ship filled with soldiers, an ancient castle floating in the sky; all these and more presented themselves to him, it seemed, at the same time. They would intrude on his mind, but when he would attempt to focus on any, to discern its nature or its meaning, the whole image would disappear into the blackness.



It was not any voice that had truly spoken; the word seemed to fill the space all around him, intruding on his very thoughts. The voice was soft, yet harsh, piercing his body with an icy chill.

At its insistence, the images intensified, becoming clearer and more resolved. And he began to see people, individuals whom he could easily recognize, but whose names he could not recall.



Someone else was there. She blinked into existence without warning or fanfare, a silver-haired woman draped in a sanguine dress that clung tightly to her thin frame, standing some distance away, but with eyes fixed on him. Her gaze was cold, and condemning.

Your time has come, she said. Her voice, though barely a whisper, seemed like an explosion in his ears.

A point of brilliant light emerged between them, expanding outward as if some terriffic explosion. He recoiled by reflex as the brightness engulfed him, plunging him into a new realm, plagued not by the absence of light but by the absence of anything else. Even the pale form of the woman was lost in the sea of brightness.

The battle is near.

He saw movement above him. It was a small, pale object barely visible against the background of white. As it drifted idly down towards him, he realized what it was.

A feather.

A single, white feather.

You reap the fruits of your sin....

The edges of the feather began to blacken and curl inwards, scorching and wafting gently away as smoke. The smoke seemed to bear the white light away, changing the cruel ambience into one much more confusing.

Your existence denied!

The world was melting around him. Or not melting; re-forming, taking on some different shape which he could not begin to imagine. Then, in one brief instant, the light collapsed inwards again, becoming once more only a single throbbing in a universe of darkness. Save that now, the darkness was not complete; a multitude of stars danced and flickered in the background, hinting at patterns which eluded his senses. But now, he was also joined by a tremendous, inhuman form, the pulsing light occupying a black void where its face would be.



It's voice was hollow and empty; yet it resonated like the plucked string of a harp. The tone was different, but it was the same voice as that of the woman who had been there before.

For your future's end.

The world exploded into a brilliant rainbow of light, only within the insane medley of colors he thought he could recognize shapes, places, people; thousands upon thousands of images tracing back through time, all melting together and dissolving into —


Jaysen's eyes flew open, and he realized he was gasping for air. As he shot upright in bed and struggled to control his breathing, he noticed that light was already streaming through the blue-tinted picture window that made up his dorm room's east wall.

Oh, man, he thought. How late is it? I better not have missed class. And on Exam Day, too....

Forgetting his dream in his sense of newfound urgency, Jaysen sprang out of bed and bolted through the doorway, searching the room for the clock, whose location he had forgotten.

Hey, man. Late night out?

Jaysen jumped as his roommate's voice came from behind him. Spinning, he saw the young man, as usual favoring his tan shirt and jeans ensemble over his Garden uniform.

Please don't do that, Tycho, he said, rubbing his forehead in response to the hintings of a headache. His raven-black hair fell over his eyes, a reminder that he was long overdue for getting it cut.

Tycho grinned. Hey, as a potential SeeD, I have to keep honing my skills. Matter of fact, you're the one to blame; you should have sensed me coming from across the room.

Give me a break, Jaysen growled, squinting at the antique clock, which he saw was hanging beside the door just like it always was. The reflected glare from the morning sun obscured the numbers, however. What time is it?

You're just in time to miss breakfast, Tycho said cheerfully. Class is in five minutes.



See ya later, Jay. With a vicious grin, Tycho disappeared through the doorway, leaving a silently cursing Jay scrambling for his uniform.