Chapter Three: Signo Solution
The Emperor waited. His plan was coming to a close. Zidane, the young man with a tail, had a certain book that he wanted. A Black college notebook, filled with an unlimited amount of pages. This so-called Death Note could kill anyone he wished, simply by writing the name of the person in its pages. Zidane had this notebook. He would have to be eliminated. The Emperor rose from his Golden throne, and looked at the walls of his chamber. Perhaps it was vanity, he was not sure, but he wished for his chamber to be coated, wall to wall in full-length mirrors. They would be very useful in his plans, however. He gazed into the closest wall, drinking in his defined features, his god-like eyes and his amazing hair. He had an unfortunate (perfect, even) resemblance with the King of a nearby kingdom, but that did not matter. He was the Emperor, and he would get exactly what he wanted.
Zidane and Blank mounted the great dragon, unable to do anything with Rikku’s body. As they soared through the clear sky, Zidane watched the ground until her blonde hair, green eyes and little yellow outfit were out of view. He sighed deeply. Blank nodded. “I know. But we’ll come back for her.” Zidane didn’t say anything, just concentrated on gripping onto the back of the beast they were riding.
The Silver Dragon knew exactly where to go, and flew smoothly, knowing the way perfectly. It wasn’t long before the dragon glided to a stop without a single bump, and Blank and Zidane jumped off its back. Zidane stumbled a little, but managed to right himself just before toppling over completely. Blank laughed nervously as Zidane brushed himself down. They exchanged anxious looks, and entered the massive, golden castle in front of them through a dazzling pair of double doors. This was it. This was where the sacrifices of all their friends would be repaid. This was where everything would end.
The Emperor rose from his Golden throne. Laughing slightly, he elegantly walked down the stairs from his throne to the statue of ice encasing Tiger Eye. “Fool.” He said, simply, and concentrated slightly on the ice. Cracks appeared on the shiny surface, and in seconds the ice exploded. Tiger Eye had disappeared, scattered to the winds. He walked through the large Golden doors to the corridor leading from the West Wing to the Throne Room. He never did question his decision of having two thrones.
He walked calmly, quietly through the corridor, a sheen of gold appearing where he stepped, gradually spreading and encasing the corridor. He walked past his collection of priceless arts, and arrived at the two suits of armour guarding the doors. “To Kill or Not To Kill, That is the Question.” He said, and the suits of armour sprang to life, jumping immediately to the side. He paused for a second, thinking his plan over, and opened the doors. The throne room lay before him, shining and shimmering with light. He walked down the spiralling staircase onto the ground floor, and walked calmly, serenely to the Throne. He sat down, entered a look of boredom (hand on chin, fingers tapping gently against the throne, leant to one side and pouting) and waited. Minutes later, the double doors that connected his Throne Room with the Entrance Corridor opened. Two men walked in, one of them was Zidane. “Well hello, gentlemen. Glad to make your acquaintance. My name is Sephiroth, but you may know me as Sunstone.”
Zidane growled quietly, and readied his daggers; it was almost a reflex to him. “Ah ah ah,” Sephiroth teased, slowly rising. “I don’t think you want to do that. Cloud tried it well before you, and look how he turned out.” His voice was mocking them; Blank and Zidane both knew it, but the truth rang out in what he said. “Who is Cloud? Bloodstone mentioned him before…just before. And I don’t know who he is!” Sephiroth laughed loudly. “It is of no matter.” Blank drew his own sword now. “Why do you get to choose what’s important and what isn’t?” he asked loudly. Sephiroth laughed his commanding laugh again, and rested his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist.
“I am the Emperor,” he began. “I’ve been controlling the road you take over the past few weeks, and watching to see how you’d take each new corner. I used my Gemstone Generals to distract you from this truth, but now it is time to unveil my masterpiece.” He allowed for another self-indulgent chuckle. “Topaz infiltrated your group under the name Demyx to discover the location of the aptly named ‘Golden Chamber’. Tiger Eye was to make him weak, so that he would never disobey me again, but I knew Garnet would free him. That was to get rid of Pearl and Garnet; Pearl was becoming too wilful and independent, and Garnet was far too sentimental. That would then lead Topaz into the Chamber to face his – and my – enemies. Finally, I sent Moonstone – who has a personal grudge against you – to give you the dragon that would bring you to me. You played your part spectacularly, and now all that is left is your final act. You will give me the Death Note you have in your pocket, and then I shall slash you to ribbons.”
Zidane stepped forward. “Wow, you’re such a good villain.” Sephiroth smirked. “It’s nice to see you appreciate my genius. I am rather brilliant, am I not? But with that Death Note…I can finally rule over everything.” Zidane laughed now. “You’re right, you would be really powerful with my Death Note. There’s just one thing you forgot to take into account.” Sephiroth raised one arched eyebrow questioningly. “Us!” Blank and Zidane shouted together, and rushed forward, weapons held aloft.
Sephiroth raised his Masamune. His left-handedness had never been a problem, it just made him more unique. He jumped high in the air, and stayed there, suspended, preparing his next course of action. Zidane shouted up to him. “Why don’t you come down here and fight like a man!” Sephiroth merely laughed. His right hand shot out, and rumbling could be heard for miles. The ground shook, Zidane and Blank fell over, and Sephiroth continued to laugh his sinister laugh. Through the windows of the Throne Room, Zidane could see the sky getting darker, and darker, and soon he could see the stars. Sephiroth raised his right hand up, and clenched his fist. The roof of his castle tore at its seams, and exploded up with a great, shattering crash.
Zidane looked up at the starry sky. “What? But it’s daytime…” As soon as the words escaped his lips, the walls of the castle also shattered, falling down in large heaps. Zidane rushed to the edge of the floor and looked down. He immediately wished he hadn’t. Down below he could see the clouds, and through the gaps, far below, was the ground. He pulled back. Sephiroth had taken them into the atmosphere itself. Throwing his hand at each wall, Sephiroth muttered under his breath. A wall of fire erupted to the east, to the west, a wall of ice, north lay a wall of purest water, and south appeared a giant wall of stone. The floor disappeared, though Blank and Zidane still stood. In it’s place was a curious mixture of light and darkness, and from the ceiling came crashes of thunder and gusting winds. “Now we fight in my domain.” Said Sephiroth, simply, “And you shall perish and be scattered into the atmosphere.”
Blank jumped up, ready to fight, and brandished his sword at the still hovering Sephiroth. “Get down here!” he bellowed, thinking of Light, Rikku, Seifer and Bloodstone. Sephiroth smirked. “With pleasure,” he said quietly, his voice echoing, and he shot downwards, straight at Blank, sword in hand. Blank saw it coming and dodged to the side just a little too late; the great blade nicked his side. “Ah!” he cried, grabbing at the wound for a moment before standing tall again. He barely had time to prepare himself before Sephiroth charged at him again. Blank held his blade out, and the two swords clashed with a loud clanging. They struggled for a minute, and then both of them were thrown backwards. Blank went crashing into the wall of ice, causing a great crack to form, and Sephiroth hit the wall of fire, which he was immediately thrown away from. He landed at Zidane’s feet.
Sephiroth jumped straight back up, his blade held tightly against Zidane’s neck. Blank rushed forward, his sword held high, and Sephiroth shot his right hand out, encasing Blank in ice. Zidane shouted, and slashed his dagger in Sephiroth’s direction, who jumped backwards. His concentration slipping, the ice around Blank began melting as Zidane slashed blindly at Sephiroth. “Don’t-You-Ever-Hurt-My-Friends-Again!” he cried, as Sephiroth dodged each and every strike.
Blank jumped in, grabbing Sephiroth’s attention, and Zidane jumped back, breathing heavily. He dug into his pockets, finding a pen and… the black book. Sephiroth had said the powers inside this were real… he had no choice. “Hey Sephiroth, what was it you said about this notebook?” he yelled, writing the name inside. Sephiroth screamed. “NO!” He dashed towards Zidane, just as he began writing the letter ‘t’, and pushed the boy aside. “Sephirot” was written in the notebook. That was too close.
Sephiroth was panicking now, which would work in favour for Blank and Zidane. Zidane crouched like a cat, gulping in air as he got ready to attack. Meanwhile, Sephiroth was still gazing at the page in horror when Blank rushed at him from the front, brandishing his sword once more. Sephiroth rolled sideways, dropping the notebook to get his sword ready again, and Zidane took his cue to spring back into the action.
Zidane charged over to Sephiroth and began hacking away with his daggers. While Sephiroth was distracted by Zidane, Blank steadied himself and lunged for the Death Note and pen. He tried to pen a shaky ‘h’, but a fireball blasted him away, scattering the pen and book and burning Blank’s hand down to a messy stump. Sephiroth dispatched Zidane with another fireball, and scooped up the Death Note, a malicious grin spreading over his features.
Sephiroth rose, laughing hysterically, high into the air. With a flick of his wrists, the walls dissipated, leaving only the golden flooring and Throne upon which he had sat for many audiences with his foolish generals. Some inscription in the back of the book made reference to Rem… his old friend… interesting. He flicked ahead to the last page written on, with “Sephirot|” written in scribbly, quick handwriting. Laughing, he raised himself higher into the atmosphere, where Blank and Zidane could never reach him. He clicked his fingers, an inkwell and quill appearing in the air before him. In his most accountant-like fashion, he dipped the quill in the ink, pushing his imaginary glasses further up his perfectly defined nose. He put pen to paper. “Z”. Shouts from below. “I”. Blank calling out in concern. “D”. Two dragons roaring. “A”. The far-off flutter of wings. “N”. Another roar, closer than before. Zidane stood atop a White dragon, his daggers ready in his hands. “E.” Sephiroth laughed maniacally, flying higher and higher until he reached the edge of the atmosphere. Any higher and he would suffocate, if it weren’t for his control over the winds. He brought some wind up from the earth, permitting him to breathe, and waited for Zidane and Blank, on a White and Silver dragon respectively, who came up seconds later. Blank seemed perfectly in harmony with his dragon, but Zidane seemed to be having a little trouble.
Clutching at his heart, Zidane fell from the great White dragon and hurtled down to Earth. Blank cried out, his arm no longer bleeding, but his heart aching from loss. Sephiroth continued to laugh. He hadn’t had this much fun in a long, long time. Blank ordered his dragon down, but he would never save Zidane. Sephiroth sent some wind down, blasting Blank off course and down to Lindblum. That should cause enough of a racket. Without realising, the wind Sephiroth had conjured had been too strong. The Death Note flew from his grasp, up into the outer reaches of space, and hurtled out of sight. “NO!” He called, gazing up in resignation. There was nothing he could do now, he’d never find it. What could he do now? His entire plan was ruined (Though he’d heard news from Tiger Eye, just before his death, that Regent Cid of Lindblum was dead, and a young boy had taken his place). He could use this boy, entice him with power, or threaten him. Yes, that would do.
Haru lay on Destiny Islands, feeling the ocean breeze and listening to the beat of Riku’s heart. She stood up, something was hurtling in the direction of Lindblum! She grabbed Riku’s arm, and pulled him to the docks that they’d built together. They grabbed the raft, and began the journey across to the shore on the other side.
Gildas shook his head. He couldn’t believe it. A boy with red hair crashing into the town centre on a flying dragon? No way. When Zexion told him to look out the window, however, he saw the truth. Half of his empire lay in ruins. He’d only visited Haru a few days ago, telling her how wonderful things were, and now there was nothing. He rushed out of the castle. He couldn’t just rely on the Fire Department to clear this mess up, he had elemental powers, he had to help his people, and fast.
Misa Amane stood with her fingers tapping against the glass. After moving to Twilight Town, she thought things would get better. Despite her past, even L had visited her on occasion. Now, with her love, Light, dead, she felt she had no purpose. She knew how to write, draw, all the usual skills (She even had some talent with a crossbow), but nothing mattered anymore. She looked out her window, watching the people staring and pointing at the falling star, heading for Lindblum. Maybe she did have a purpose, after all…
