Magitek Moments

by Tears_of_Reese

Summary:

-

"...amid weeping there is joy and under the shadow of death light that endures." ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

Terra and Celes grew up in Gestahl's Empire. From their earliest moments, the Imperial machine shaped them as the adults around them navigated the tangled webs of power and ambition, pulled by the glory of forgotten knowledge.

A series of vignettes spanning the years leading up to the events of "Of Passing Shadows". Tags to be updated as necessary.

Chapter 1: A Baby?

The baby cried.

Cid looked down at the tiny creature, as chubby and small as his sister’s new baby. Celes was six months old now and could be just as loud as this one was being. Instead of the tuft of white-blonde fluff that decorated his niece’s head, wisps of grass-green baby hair curled around this one’s ears.

She – it – flailed little fists, eyes screwed shut, mouth stretched wide in a high-pitched wail.

He’d requisitioned a cot from the maternity ward. It came stocked with diapers, creams, and blankets, all neatly stored in the drawers on the rolling cart below.

Right now, Cid was trying to figure out how a man with multiple engineering degrees had been bested by a cotton rectangle. No matter how tightly he wrapped the infant, she – it – continued to break free of the swaddle, much to their joint distress.

As the screaming redoubled, Cid pinched his nose.

Nothing for it.

 

“A sign of intelligence is knowing when to ask for help…” He sighed and penned a note.

 

How do you swaddle a baby? Urgent. Crying won’t stop.

 

He sighed again before rolling the note up and stuffing it in a mail capsule. Popping the small container in one of the vacuum tubes that delivered messages throughout the science wing, he glanced back at the file on his desk. The chart inside was curiously unfinished.

 

Subject MAG1-a

Designation: Terra

Sex: Female

Species: ________

Blood Type: ________

Parents: Unknown

 

He looked over at the sobbing baby. Red faced now, her – Its, Cid. Its – tiny fists trembled with how tightly they were clenched. He went to the cot and gingerly scooped the baby up. Swaying and bouncing the way he’d seen his sister do, he walked a circuit through his cramped lab.

The sobs quieted to hiccups and whimpers as the baby rubbed its head on his shoulder, leaving slimy trails across his lab coat.

Cid grimaced and pulled back. The baby looked up at him with huge green eyes, bottom lip still quivering.

 

“I have no idea what you want,” Cid told it seriously. It burbled back discontentedly.

 

“A good swaddle for one, possibly a new nappie, and then probably a bottle,” came a voice from the doorway.

 

Cid sighed in relief, turning to greet his sister. She laughed at him as she crossed the room, baby Celes swaddled and wrapped snuggly in a sling across her chest.

 

“Cecily! I thought you'd just send a note back. I’m sorry I interrupted your workday.” Cid met her halfway, smiling gratefully. “Is the pediatric center busy today?”

 

“No more than usual. And you didn't interrupt - call this a house call and I can bill for it.” Cecily grinned and held out her arms. “Now, who’s this little one?”

 

“Um.” Cid flinched. “This… is… an asset in our new R&D project…” He ended in a mumble as Cecily stared at him over the baby’s head.

 

“Well, she’s beautiful." Cecily glared as she set the baby down in the cot.

Untangling her from the ruined swaddle, Cecily pulled out her stethoscope and placed it against the baby’s chest, causing her to kick her legs in protest.

“Sorry, baby girl. I know it’s cold.” She glanced up at Cid. “What do you mean ‘asset’? She's too healthy and social to not have caregivers who love her.”

 

Cid couldn’t meet her eyes. “I haven’t asked. It – she – was delivered to the lab yesterday by the Emperor’s personal aide. All he said was that I was to study the child, run tests and take samples—” he held up a list of the procedures— “and determine if she was a viable subject for an avenue of research the Emperor is passionate about. He said her name was Terra and left her.”

 

“Hmph.” Cecily grunted and finished her cursory exam, reswaddled Terra and propped her against her free shoulder. Calm now, the baby looked around and cooed.

 

Cecily snatched the test orders before Cid could react. Ignoring his protests, she scanned the list, lips thinning.

 

“Many of these are incredibly painful, Cid. Adults would have a hard time coping. To do them to a baby…” Her eyes welled and she held Terra tighter.

 

“We can’t get attached.” Cid raked his hands through his hair, swallowing down his disquiet as his sister voiced his own misgivings aloud. He took the list back and tucked it in the file. “They’re going to perform these tests one way or another. If I don’t do it, they’ll just instate another scientist who will.”

 

Cecily paced, bouncing as she shushed absentmindedly, soothing both the babies she carried. Terra rested her head against her shoulder and Celes slumbered in her sling, oblivious to her mother's distress.

Brows knit, Cecily made several circuits around the lab. Finally, she whirled on Cid.

 

“Make me her primary pediatrician and let me foster her.”

 

“I might be able to do the first, but fostering is out of the question. She’s not to leave the lab.” Cid blew out a breath. “I technically shouldn’t even have let you in here. You’ll have to sign all the NDAs and I’ll try to get you retroactively cleared to know about her.”

 

“You’ll get much better data if she’s healthy, yes?” Cecily raised an eyebrow.

 

Cid conceded the point.

 

“Well, babies need to be held,” Cecily said firmly. “She can’t just stay in a lab – the isolation will damage her brain and her physical health. Jun and I can foster her while she’s young, which allows you to monitor her more closely and means fewer people on the project since you won’t need nurses and caregivers.” She adjusted her grip on Terra. “Keeping her in a stable, normal environment will be best for her development, which will maximize your research’s chances of success.”

 

Cid chewed on his lip. Cecily waited, eyes never leaving his.

 

He nodded. “I’ll make the call.”

Notes:

So I started writing these so I could keep track of Celes' and Terra's memories for the main story. The Word doc kinda spiraled from there...

Unlike "Of Passing Shadows", this one will update sporadically as the inspiration hits.

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 2: Risks

“That’s it, Terra. Such a brave girl.”

 

Cecily adjusted her hold on Terra as the baby nursed. Once she was firmly latched and distracted, Cid, who’d been readying his phlebotomy kit, leaned over his sister to insert the needle in Terra’s arm. Blood rushed through the thin tube to the vial in his hand.

Terra fussed, but didn’t unlatch.

 

“You’ve gotten better,” Cecily said. “She barely felt that one.” She frowned up at her brother. “This is the fifth draw this week. I thought we agreed to do it in batches and space them out.”

 

Cid shook his head. “A few vials were unusable – just need to do a redraw.”

 

“Hmm.” Cecily hummed skeptically, stroking Terra’s cheek. “She’s turning one next week. I wish you’d let us throw her a party - just a small one like we had for Celes.”

 

“You know why we can’t.”

 

“Cid, she’s—”

 

“She’s crucial to the Emperor’s project and needs to be treated as such.”

 

“The way she’s being treated is wrong, and you know it. Emperor or not, she—”

 

Cid flapped his hand, shushing her frantically. Cecily’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared.

 

“Do not shush me.”

 

“You can’t say things like that, Cecily,” Cid whispered. “Regardless of what I think, it’s not safe.” He capped the full vial and attached another one.

 

Cecily stared at him, incredulous. “It’s not safe to speak honestly to my brother in my own home?” She scoffed.

 

Finishing the blood draw, Cid packed away his kit and shifted from foot to foot, hands shoved in his lab coat’s pockets. “You don’t understand. Things are… changing. It’s gotten—” He sighed. “Look, we just need to keep our heads down. We’re already under scrutiny because of our involvement in the project.” He looked at her earnestly. “Please – for all your sakes – don’t make a fuss.”

 

Cecily frowned, concern overriding her indignation. Her brother was genuinely frightened. She listened to her husband washing dishes in the kitchen and looked at Celes sleeping in her cot nearby. She sighed.

 

“Alright, Cid.” She stood, juggling Terra to keep her attached, and went to him. Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she nodded. “I’ll be careful, and I won’t make waves.”

 

Cid’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”

 

-●-

 

Back in his lab, Cid ran his hands through his hair, staring at the samples before him.

He'd wanted to be wrong – prayed he’d been wrong.

He’d rerun the tests three times. He couldn’t do it again. Cecily was getting suspicious. Besides, the results were the same every time.

Terra’s blood couldn’t be typed. It contained proteins foreign to the human body – proteins only found in the blood samples taken from the other subjects in the Emperor’s pet project.

The ones no one knew about. The ones that shouldn’t exist.

He sighed. Jaw set, he opened Terra’s file and wrote down his findings.

 

Subject MAG1-a

Designation: Terra

Sex: Female

Species: Human-Esper Hybrid

 

He leaned back and closed his eyes.

Triad help him, Terra had just become the most important part of the project.

 

 

Chapter 3: Turning Point

Cid watched the door of the mausoleum swing shut with dry eyes.

Celes and Terra huddled behind his legs, each girl clutching one of his hands. Their little faces were drawn, eyes wide with confusion.

 

“Mommy’s asleep?” Celes asked, scrunching her brow. “Mommy goes to bed?”

 

“Bed,” Terra echoed. She waved timidly. “See Mama inna morning?”

 

Cid closed his eyes. He had no idea how to explain death to toddlers. “Um. Mommy has to stay there. She, um… she can’t come out. Just like Daddy. Remember? Daddy’s in there too and he couldn’t come out either…”

 

“Mommy and Daddy on time out?” Celes stared fixedly at the closed doors.

 

“Naughty?” Terra looked worriedly up at Cid.

 

That was the question, wasn’t it.

His brother-in-law’s death had been unexpected, sudden in its tragedy. Away at the army's behest, Jun had saved the cadets he was training, but at the cost of his own life.

A hero’s death.

Cecily’s death – only a few months later – in a mugging on the way home from the clinic had none of the noble solace, only cruel chaos.

A senseless death.

Or a warning.

At this point, Cid couldn’t tell.

The procession of mourners had begun. Friends and colleagues filed past, offering condolences. Cid accepted them mechanically. He hardly knew how he replied to each murmured expression of sorrow.

 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Cid.”

 

He muttered his thanks on reflex, but the mourner didn’t move on. He blinked and Dr. Arabello – the Head of the Experimental Science Division – came into focus. Cid shook his head to clear it and tried again.

 

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate you coming.”

 

Arabello shook his head. “Dr. Chere will be sorely missed. Her work was a credit to her hospital.”

 

Cid nodded. Celes scrunched closer to him, staring up at the stranger. Terra hid her face in Cid’s leg.

Their movement drew Arabello’s attention.

 

“As your niece’s nearest relative, I assume you have custody of her. Have you given any consideration to what will happen with Dr. Chere’s foster?”

 

Cid frowned. “I assumed I’d get custody of both girls,” he said slowly.

 

Arabello raised an eyebrow. “Is that in the project’s best interests?”

 

“Why wouldn’t it be? I’m the lead scientist.”

 

“Yes, well—”

 

“I’ve been her main point of contact,” Cid protested. "She’s familiar with me and comfortable enough that…” He trailed off as Arabello shook his head.

 

“Think about it, Cid. Caring for one child will be hard enough, given the recent tragedies. Caring for two, especially one as important to the Empire as she is… we worry the strain would be too great.” He looked from Cid to the girls. “We want to avoid a situation where we have to remove both girls from your custody." He clicked his tongue. "Dr. Chere’s daughter has suffered enough upheaval already, losing both parents before she's even three...”

 

Cid looked down at the girls. Celes clung to him. Numb, he swallowed. Terra watched him guilelessly. He closed his eyes and turned back to Dr. Arabello.

 

“What’s your recommendation, Doctor?”

Chapter 4: Changes

“No, Unka Cid!” Terra’s whine and toddler lisp broke the silence in the lab when she spied the tray of needles and tubes.

 

“You have to call me ‘Doctor del Norte’, remember?” Cid reminded her gently as he settled her on the sterilized table. “We talked about this last time.”

 

“Sorry, Unka Cid.” She looked around, distracted by the whirring machines. “I go home today? Wif you?”

 

“No, Terra,” Cid felt his throat constrict. He swallowed. “You’re staying with Nurse Pat and Nurse Vi now.” He couldn’t look at her. After a pause, broken only by the sound of beakers bubbling, he asked, “Are they nice to you?”

 

“Yes.” Her reply was sullen, something he’d never heard from the bubbly three-year-old. “Miss Celes. We go get her?” Her voice turned hopeful, eyes glistening.

 

Cid reached for his instruments. “Maybe when we’re done.”

 

He couldn’t deny her this. He barely withstood each plea to come home.

He thought of the empty apartment he’d just finished cleaning out, and the new name on the pediatrics roster. His lips thinned to a white slash and he squared his shoulders.

She couldn’t come home with him. The decision had been made.

It was out of his hands.

But there was no harm in letting her see her friend. There were no regulations around her socialization. He was pretty sure no one had thought to make any.

He readied the first syringe.

No harm in a short visit.

No harm.

Chapter 5: Adjustments

Doctor del Norte was waiting for her again. Last time, he’d given her the usual check-up, but he’d taken blood samples too. He’d patted her shoulder when she cried and told her that she was very brave.

She still didn’t like it.

Her lower lip wobbled when she saw him standing by the patient bed. A tray of needles sat on the table beside it. She didn’t want him to take her blood. He was the only one who ever did.

Sometimes he used bigger needles and took things that weren’t blood that had funny names and different colors.

That hurt worse.

 

He lifted Terra onto the bed and rolled up her sleeve, gently wiping the crook of her elbow with a disinfectant swab. “Good afternoon, Terra. How are you feeling today?”

 

Terra just looked at him wide-eyed, shivering in the sterile laboratory air. Doctor del Norte sighed and turned to prepare a syringe.

Sometimes she thought she remembered his name was “Cid”. Sometimes her mind conjured disjointed pictures of a large table and happy faces – all blurry now – and she thought she remembered his smile among them.

Sometimes she almost worked up the courage to ask him about it.

But she never did.

Her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away with a hiccup. Thumping her tiny heels against the side of the bed, she looked at the floor so far below. She sniffled.

Doctor del Norte turned back and inserted the needle into Terra’s arm, murmuring vague soothing noises. The glass tube filled with red. She sat still, staring blankly ahead.

 

“I talked to Nurse Vi today.” Doctor del Norte’s voice startled her. “She said you’ve adjusted well.”

 

Terra shrugged. She didn’t know that word.

 

“Now that you’ve settled in, I thought I’d bring Celes to see you tomorrow. Would you like that?”

 

She nodded vigorously, as huge grin breaking out over her face.

For the rest of the appointment, she chattered to him about showing Celes her room and maybe playing in the hallway by the windows. They made big squares of light on the floor that were perfect for hopping. And, sometimes, Nurse Vi would tell bedtime stories, so maybe, if they were really, really good, Celes could hear one before she went home.

She was so excited about seeing her friend, she hardly felt the pinches and pricks as Doctor del Norte took his samples. She certainly didn’t notice how his eyes grew sad even as he smiled and nodded.

Chapter 6: Routines

Cid stared at the memos in his hand and closed his eyes.

 

Regarding the socialization of Subject MAG1-a…

 

He’d gotten complacent. Careless.

The visits between Celes and Terra had become a weekly occurrence – moments of peace in his increasingly turbulent routine. Both girls looked forward to them and seeing Terra’s face light up each time she opened the door to let them in eased the guilt he still felt whenever he remembered the day he’d left her with her new caregivers.

Nurse Vi encouraged them, enjoying seeing the girls play together. She was fond of her young charge and easily affectionate in a way that further eased Cid’s throbbing conscience.

He’d forgotten about Nurse Pat.

More austere than Vi, Pat was less inclined to see Terra as a child to be looked after. She viewed her as a valued asset to be guarded and molded to serve the Empire.

Playdates were a distraction.

Playdates encouraged inappropriate attachments.

And now, the playdates needed to stop.

Not altogether – care needed to be taken to ensure Terra’s mental and emotional development wasn’t stunted. She was too valuable to damage at such an early stage. But, proper distance needed to be maintained to safeguard the viability of the specimen.

Her attachment to Cid and Celes had been noted and Nurse Pat had expressed concerns that Terra’s open preference for them threatened the integrity of the Project.

As lead scientist, Cid’s contributions to the Project had been invaluable. They would hate to be forced to transfer him to another division.

Cid crumpled the memo and cast it into the wastebasket by his desk.

He knew a warning when he saw one. He scrubbed his face with his hands.

He’d cut back their visits with Terra. The girls would be disappointed, but it was for everyone’s good.

Why did he feel like he was abandoning her again?

 

-●-

 

It soon became clear something was wrong.

Terra had grown silent and withdrawn. Her weight started dropping and Nurse Vi confirmed that she’d stopped cooperating at mealtimes, picking listlessly at her food or refusing to eat altogether. She’d stopped responding to the stories she’d loved so much and alternated between screaming tantrums and almost mechanical obedience.

Even Nurse Pat had to concede that the current state of affairs had a greater negative impact on the Project than the weekly playdates ever had.

But Cid wasn’t about to repeat the same mistake.

He kept the visits to Terra’s apartment to once a month, rotating the weeks so they appeared sporadic. He’d taken to quietly coordinating with Vi to ‘accidentally’ meet up in various parks and gardens within the complex.

It was during those cloaked outings that he’d met a newly minted second lieutenant named Leo Christophe.

The girls had kicked their ball too far and knocked Leo’s book out of his hands. He'd merely laughed and spent the rest of the afternoon overseeing their game of kickball. When Cid had thanked him at the end of the day, Leo had just grinned boyishly and told him they reminded him of his young cousins back home.

Leo was often in the gardens when they visited and soon became a regular addition to their group. He admitted to being homesick and took time to play with the girls even as he discussed various journals and current events with Cid and Vi.

An astute man, he soon recognized the clandestine nature of the playdates and began helping Cid to disguise their frequency, often serving a distraction whenever Nurse Pat insisted on accompanying them.

When no new memos came across Cid’s desk, he began to relax.

It became a new routine, perhaps not as easy as the previous one, but it did offer similar bastions of peace as the pressures of the Project mounted.

Terra’s weight returned to healthy levels. Her sunny disposition returned, though Cid noted she’d developed a particular kind of wariness around all adults except Leo.

Vi had noticed as well, but found there was little she could do to restore the little girl’s trust. Nurse Pat viewed the wariness as obedience and called it good progress.

Satisfied with that outcome, her scrutiny eased.

Cid’s vigilance did not and the secrecy continued. Needed or not, there was too much to lose.

It was for everyone’s good.

 

-●-

 

 

Cid had grown to hate memos.

 

Notification of changes to the care team of Subject MAG1-a…

 

Nurse Vi had been transferred. According to Nurse Pat, Terra hadn’t cried when her favorite caregiver had tearfully hugged her goodbye and walked out the door. The child remained obedient and calm.

Cid knew that wasn’t a good sign.

He requested a visit with one of the child development specialists, suggesting that an additional emotional evaluation might be helpful in the face of another loss in Terra’s short life.

The request had been denied.

Nurse Pat’s continued presence provided enough stability, negating any need for special attention. When he’d pushed back, his objection had been noted and logged.

With nothing more to do, he returned his attention to the Project. They’d been making great progress with the other test subjects and the continued data from Terra’s samples had finally yielded the desired results.

Excitement overriding his worry, Cid rolled up his sleeves.

The Emperor was ready to advance the Project to Stage Two.

Chapter 7: What's a Birthday?

“Goddesses Above, Cid! She’s a child, not a lab rat!”

 

“Not to the Emperor…”

 

Terra sat at the too-large desk, swinging her legs. The stacked books under her shifted as she moved, causing her to wobble. Not wanting to tumble off the chair and get scolded again, she stilled and returned to her assignment, turning the thick pages of her military history book with careful hands.

Nurse Pat was out for the day and Leo was arguing with Doctor del Norte. The doctor had started giving some of her checkups in her room – he measured how much she grew, how much she ate, and how well she could focus. He asked her a lot of questions too, about what she could do and about her feelings and about her thoughts. She didn’t always know how to answer those questions.

Leo visited more often too, now that the doctor was monitoring her so closely. She privately thought of him as The Nice Man. He was one of the only ones who spoke kindly to her and didn’t make her do things.

Once, he took her outside to a place with flowers and trees and let her wander around. She liked the pink flowers because they smelled so good, so he let her pick some to take back to her room.

Another time, he brought her a book that had pictures of animals in it. He’d spent the day reading it to her and answering all her questions with a smile. She’d liked that. Nobody else smiled at her now that Nurse Vi was gone. He even laughed when she timidly petted his yellow hair. It was short, bristly on the sides and fluffy and flat on top. Her hair was long and soft and green and she’d wondered if yellow hair felt the same as green did. Chuckling at her scrunched-up nose and furrowed brow, he’d let her pat it until her curiosity was satisfied.

This time, he wasn’t smiling, but it wasn’t her fault. Doctor del Norte was the one taking The Nice Man’s smile away. He did that a lot. He certainly took her smiles away, though it seemed to make him sad whenever that happened.

Terra turned another page and kept listening to the raised voices in her doorway.

 

“Cid…” there was warning in that tone.

 

“Fine,” the doctor sighed and moved out of the way, “but don’t be surprised when this backfires.”

 

“I’ll take that risk.”

 

Leo came over with his hands behind his back. Terra grinned ear to ear.

 

“Hi, Terra,” Leo gave her an answering smile. “Are you having a good day?”

 

He kept his hands behind his back and Terra wiggled around, craning her neck to see why. Leo just laughed.

 

“Uh-huh,” the little girl answered, distracted, “Why can’t I see your hands?”

 

“Because I have a present for you and I want it to be a surprise.”

 

“What’s a present?” Terra cocked her head to the side.

 

“It’s a thing you give to a friend at a special time because you like them.”

 

“Oh.” Terra frowned. “Why’s today special?”

 

Leo’s smile never faltered, but his eyes changed. Terra thought they looked sad all of a sudden, but she didn’t know why.

 

“It’s your birthday today. It’s when we celebrate you getting another year older.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you know how old you are?”

 

Terra shook her head, torn between curiosity about her surprise present and asking questions about birthdays.

 

“You turn four years old today,” Leo said, smile fixed in place.

 

“How old are you?”

 

“I’m twenty years old.” The smile relaxed and became less forced.

 

“That’s old!” Terra gasped, after counting the difference between four and twenty on her fingers and finding she needed to pull off her shoes and socks to use her toes as well. “Do you think I’ll ever get that old?”

 

“Yes.” Leo couldn’t contain his laughter at her appalled expression.

 

He decided to finally give the little girl her present. Bringing his hands around to his front, he held out a floppy plush toy. Terra’s eyes lit up and she let out a squeal of pure excitement as she reached for it.

 

“It’s a moogle,” she yelled, “just like in our book! Those were my favorites!”

 

As she gushed about her toy, she snuggled it close, rubbing her cheek on the soft white fur. She danced it across her history book by its arms, giggling as the pompom on its head bounced and its tiny wings wiggled. Holding it tight again, she launched herself at her friend in heedless joy, sending the chair rocking onto its back legs.

Leo found himself with an armful of happy child as she wrapped her little arms around his neck, pulling him and her moogle close.

Chapter 8: Hell Hath No Fury...

After she blew up Doctor del Norte’s operating room during a particularly painful bone marrow extraction, they reassigned Nurse Pat and replaced her with a permanent guard. They also added physical and mental training to Terra’s school days.

Terra didn’t mind the physical training too much. Running, jumping, and climbing was fun. Sometimes, Celes got to join her for that part, though she didn’t see her friend as much as she used to.

She didn’t like when they threw sharp things at her and she had to dodge or deflect them. When Leo found out, he forced them to give her a different trainer who threw softer things.

Mental training was mostly boring. They made Terra sit and stare at things and think about those things on fire or covered in ice. Other times, they put things on the table and made her think about them floating or spinning or flying.

Terra was pretty sure they were trying to get her to blow something up again, but she didn’t want to. So she thought about moogles instead and pretended to concentrate.

Everything else stayed the same – same books on military campaigns, same tests on battle tactics. Except now her guard hovered nearby and made sure that she actually did her work.

His name was Kefka Palazzo and one time he took her toy moogle when he caught her playing with it instead of reading about how the Empire had fought a thousand years ago in a war nobody believed happened anymore. He’d given it back when she finished for the day, but from that moment, she didn’t like him.

And few creatures can hold grudges like a frustrated five-year old.

She started small. Spooning her mashed potatoes into his boots, tucking her dirtiest socks into his pillows – little things to make him want to go away. Whenever he’d discover her newest bit of chaos, he’d sigh quietly and close his brown eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He never raised his voice and, once, after she’d braided his sheets and coverlet into an intricate knot, she could’ve sworn she saw his mouth twitch in a half-smile.

But he still didn’t leave.

He’d just clean up the mess, set her to whatever task she had to do, and resume his post.

Since little things weren’t working, Terra decided to try something bigger. She snuck into Kefka’s room during one of the few moments when he wasn’t hovering and glared at his bed. It was made with perfect precision as always. Huffing out a breath through her nose, Terra screwed her eyes shut and reached out her hand.

Slowly, wobbly, the bed rose off the ground. Terra grinned even as she felt sweat trickle down her back. Shuffling in place to turn herself, she rotated her arm to point at the heavy dresser and bookshelf that sat side-by-side against the far wall. Shakily, she made the bed tip onto its side and propelled it inch by inch across the room to place it on top of the other furniture, propped against the wall.

A soft cough behind her broke her concentration, sending the bed tumbling to the floor with a resounding crash. Terra whirled around, eyes wide.

Leo and Kefka stood in the doorway. Kefka took in the ruin of his bed, mouth slightly agape while Leo stared at Terra as she stood in the middle of the room. Finally, Leo pulled himself together. He turned to the other man and spoke very quietly.

 

“Sergeant Palazzo, would you be so kind as to give us a moment?”

 

“Yessir, Colonel Christophe.” Kefka snapped a shaky salute and walked out.

 

Leo turned back to the shivering five-year old and crossed his arms. Terra shrank under his unamused stare and squirmed, staring at the carpet.

 

“Your tutors seem to be under the impression that you’re not progressing.” Leo gestured to the splintered bedframe and upended mattress behind her. “I’m sure they’ll be stunned when I inform them of their mistake.”

 

Terra shuffled her feet. Leo uncrossed his arms and sighed. Walking over to her, he knelt so he could look her in the eyes. She tried to avoid his gaze, but he finally caught it. “Care to tell me why you’re tormenting my officer? He hasn’t been too upset by your pranks – he even found a few rather amusing – but this one takes the cake, Terra.”

 

Terra’s lip wobbled and she flared her nostrils. “I don’t like him. He always makes me read stupid books about soldiers and he only watches when Doctor del Norte does his stupid tests every week and—and—” she flung herself into Leo’s arms and began to cry in earnest— “and he t-took Mog! And I don’t want him as my guard. I want you!”

 

Leo patted her back and sat himself in a more comfortable position. Pulling the distraught child into his lap, he rocked her back and forth until her sobs quieted to hiccups.

 

“Did he give your moogle back to you?” He figured he’d deal with the worst offence first.

 

“Y-yes,” Terra sniffled. “When I finished reading m-my chapter.”

 

“Alright.” Leo sighed and shook his head, mussing her hair with his chin. “He doesn’t sound too bad then.” That got no response. He leaned back so he could see her face. “Look, Terra, I picked Kefka special to be your guard because I can’t be here all the time to watch you.”

 

“But, why?”

 

“Because the Emperor trusts me to keep his troops safe, so I have to travel a lot.” He peered into her sullen face. “And while I’m travelling, I trust Kefka to keep you safe. So you need to be nice to him. Okay?”

 

Terra nodded sulkily and burrowed her head into his shoulder. Letting her calm down, Leo took the time to really process the wreckage he was facing. Kefka would need an entirely new bed – one that was bolted to the floor for safety’s sake. Leo shook his head again and started rocking slightly, to soothe Terra, he told himself.

While he was at it, he’d give his officer a pay raise.

Chapter 9: In Pursuit of Power

“Mr. Kefka?”

 

Kefka turned towards the small voice. The child hesitated in his doorway, peeking around the frame.

 

“What is it, Terra?” He asked, getting up from his desk.

 

“Doctor del Norte said I could play with Celes after my check-up today. May we go? Please?”

 

Kefka regarded her quietly. Since the incident with his bed, she’d been noticeably less troublesome. All the furniture in their suite had been bolted to the floor anyways, to prevent future tantrums. Not that she showed any signs of rebelling. She did her schoolwork and her exercises, and once Leo informed her teachers of her mental progress, she’d begun cooperating on that front too.

 

“You’ve behaved well these last few months. I don’t see why not.”

 

The child gave a tentative smile – nothing compared to the face-splitting grins she directed towards Leo, but it was better than the near-constant scowling he’d endured til then.

 

Some hours later, as he watched the two young girls play together in the courtyard outside Cid’s apartment, he heard a cough behind him. Keeping one eye on his charge, he turned to see the head scientist himself approach, holding a clipboard and a sheaf of papers.

 

“Sergeant Palazzo.”

 

“Dr. del Norte.” Kefka returned the greeting with polite nod.

 

“I have a proposition for you.” Cid held out the papers.

 

Kefka looked at the top one. “Procedure for Human Magical Augmentation” marched across the header in blocky red type. He looked back at Cid sharply.

 

“The procedure is cutting-edge,” Cid’s words tumbled out in a rush. “It’s never been performed before, but preliminary animal testing has been very promising. We need someone to pioneer it – test it out and prove it works.” He tapped the stack of paperwork as Kefka stayed silent. “It comes with an automatic promotion – you’d be made a General.”

 

Kefka froze. “Why me? There are other officers with more experience and higher ranks – why hasn’t this been offered to them?”

 

“Well,” Cid scratched the back of his neck, “we did offer it to Leo. He turned it down, but recommended you instead. He feels you’d be a good candidate based on your steady temperament and how you work well with the others in your unit. He knows you have military aspirations and speaks highly of your intelligence.”

 

“He has his own aspirations. Why doesn’t he take the promotion?”

 

“At the rate he’s rising through the ranks, he’ll make General in a few years. He’s always been a patient sort.”

 

Kefka stared at the paperwork with burning eyes.

Stuck as he was in Vector, the military acclaim of active combat was out of his reach. Leo kept those honors for himself, though he supposed he should be grateful his commanding officer hadn’t forgotten him.

He glanced back at Terra, laughing with her friend as she playfully floated their ball between them. He thought of his overturned bed, hovering midair before she lost her concentration, of the thin trickles of flame she was beginning to produce on command.

That little girl was more dangerous than he was, despite all the training, all the work, all the conditioning he’d put himself through in his years of active duty.

He flipped through the stack of waivers, explanations, diagrams, and scientific jargon, looking for one specific page. Upon finding it, he looked back at Cid.

 

“I believe I’ll need a pen.”

Chapter 10: In Memoriam

Celes leafed through the medical text, small hands turning each page carefully, enjoying the slick feeling of the transparent overlays. With every page she turned, a new layer of the person was revealed or concealed, depending on the direction she went.

Skin over veins over muscles over nerves over bones over organs – it was an intricate puzzle, where everything fit specifically and precisely.

She thought it was fascinating.

The textbook had been her mother’s. It, and several others, lined the bottom shelf of one of the many bookcases in Uncle Cid’s apartment. He let her look at them as much as she wanted, as long as she was gentle.

If he wasn’t too tired, he’d look at the books with her and explain what each picture was. If he’d had an especially good day, he’d tell her stories about her mother – how kind she was, how brave and smart and good, honest and honorable, how passionate she was about her work.

In these quiet moments, Celes felt most safe and most loved, basking in the memories of the mother she never knew and the enthusiasm of the uncle who doted on her when he could.

It wasn’t long before Celes decided she wanted to be a doctor too.

She wanted to be like her mother.

She wanted to be good.

Chapter 11: Monster(s)

Notes:

By happy coincidence, this chapter fulfilled one of the 30th Anniversary Tumblr prompts!

Clad only in a thin hospital gown, Kefka suppressed a shiver. As if the indignity of dress wasn’t enough, the chill of the lab’s sterilized air raised goosebumps on each exposed inch of skin.

Forcing himself to sit still in the metal chair, he resisted the urge to rub his arms for warmth. He schooled his features to indifference, even as his jaw ticked in irritation.

He shivered again. Was this some sort of damnable final test?

He would not fail because of human weakness, not when he was so close to surpassing it.

 

“How are we doing, Sergeant Palazzo?” Doctor del Norte’s voice crackled over the intercom overhead.

 

Kefka eyed the mirrored wall in front of him, fairly certain it was one of the two-way ones that allowed the scientists to observe their handiwork. Pointedly staring, he shrugged and blew out a breath, raising an eyebrow at the puff of steam that left his mouth.

 

“I apologize for the temperature,” del Norte hastened to say and Kefka suppressed a smirk at the confirmation, “It’s an additional safety measure, you see. The Emperor chose the Esper whose essence we’ll be transfusing. I would’ve preferred a more stable element myself for this first trial, but—” The doctor rambled on for a few minutes, technical and scientific jargon blurring together. “—so you could say we’re playing with fire, rather literally,” he ended with a nervous chuckle.

 

Kefka nodded absently, distracted by a low mechanical hum that had pervaded the chamber.

 

“Ah. Here we go then,” del Norte said. “Almost ready.”

 

Through a raised opening in the floor rose a glass and steel capsule. Metal clamps sprang from the rim of the hole and latched onto the pod with a sharp clack. It settled in place, hissing as it formed a seal with its encasement.

Kefka’s breath caught.

Under deadly curved horns, enraged golden eyes blazed out of a leonine face. Its feral snarl revealed lupine fangs. A clawed fist landed on the glass with a resounding crack.

 

-●-

 

The glass shivered but didn’t give way. Whatever those thrice-cursed humans had dosed him with had weakened his body to the point of uselessness even as it left his mind untouched.

How cruel they were, trapping him twice over. The physical prison was nothing to this mental one. His rage frothed beneath the surface, impotent and muted.

The feeding tube tugged painfully at his nostril, tangling with the other tubes that trailed down from the shackles at his wrists and throat. They twined around his legs and attached to a panel at the bottom of his prison. Each movement he made pulled against them, snagging at his fur.

He stilled, unwilling to aid the humans in adding to his discomfort. Ignoring the tubes and wires that bound him, he fixed his eyes on his captors instead.

The curve of the glass distorted and warped the room outside, rendering the scientists into deformed caricatures. They hurried about, checking machinery and wheeling in trays of instruments. The ones unfortunate enough to have to venture close to check his prison looked up at him in terror.

He bared his teeth in a smile, knowing they couldn’t tell the difference between that and a snarl. They hunched their shoulders and scurried away. His grin spread wider. Their terror couldn’t begin to make up for the horrors he and his kinfolk had endured these last years, but it was something.

His gaze traveled to the human strapped to the chair in the middle of the room. That one was warped most severely by the glass between them, features stretched in disconcerting ways. Any shift in his weight made the human move, features blurring and bulging as it slid around. Only its gaze remained constant.

It stared at him, eyes alight with something almost as predatory as anything he himself could conjure.

Foolish, foolish little human. Between the two of them, it would always be the prey.

He would take great delight in reminding it of that fact, if only given the chance.

 

-●-

 

“Magnificent,” Kefka breathed, eyes fixed on the Esper.

 

After its initial show of defiance, it made no further attempts to move. Arms crossed, it stood there, eyes unblinking, almost bored.

There was nothing placid in its stillness though. Kefka could almost feel its mind working behind its golden stare.

Enthralled as he was, he hardly noticed the sting as the scientists set a port in each arm and hooked him up to a rack of IVs, nor the pinch of the brainwave monitors being affixed to his temples. They strapped a monitor for his heartrate around his chest and another for his blood pressure around his bicep. Absently, he allowed one of them to nudge him back as the chair was reclined.

The Esper watched, its anticipation weighing as heavily as his own.

Only the click of metal brought him out of his reverie. Kefka frowned down at the metal bands that now anchored his wrists to the armrests of his chair. He flexed his arm, testing. The cuffs held fast, but didn’t bite into his flesh, lined with what felt like soft leather.

 

“Is there a reason I’m being restrained?” he asked as the scientists closed another set of cuffs over his ankles.

 

“To ensure you can’t hurt yourself in the event something unexpected happens,” Cid soothed from wherever he’d decided to observe from. “Routine precaution, Sergeant Palazzo, I assure you.”

 

Mollified for the time being, Kefka nodded and relaxed into the chair, gaze returning to the Esper.

It had not looked away.

Neither did he.

 

-●-

 

The human had almost as many wires and tubes attached to it as he did. The observation sparked neither curiosity nor pity.

The human had no pity for him, after all. It seemed unbothered by their shared plight. Even the brief frisson of alarm at the unexpected shackles did little to dampen its obvious anticipation.

Whatever twisted purpose the humans had concocted, that one was eager to see it done.

That was enough to make him hate it just a little more than the scientists he’d come to loathe.

One of them inched closer to his prison, staring intently at the control panel. With the press of an outside button, his collar tightened, bringing the familiar sensation of multiple stabs rippling across his neck.

He’d grown used to the pain, but not indifferent to it. Never indifferent. The day his rage cooled, they’d have won.

It was a victory he’d never allow.

Each extraction, experiment and test, each violation he could not defend against, was a battle he was forced to lose. But in this war of survival, he would emerge the victor. He would not let them break him.

Perhaps they already had.

He remembered a time when he’d been capable of more that anger and hatred. But they’d sliced and carved him up so thoroughly, chipping away at him until there was hardly anything of him left, leaving his nature as truncated as his name.

His lips peeled back in another involuntary snarl.

Rage was all they’d left him.

So that’s what he’d give them.

 

-●-

 

A low growl reverberated from the capsule. The scientist fiddling with one of the monitors on his chest shivered. Kefka suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If the Esper could do more than snap and snarl at them, it would. Each chilling sound was merely a display.

It’s what all cornered animals did. One final, futile gesture before the predators closed in.

 

“We’re ready. Do you need me to explain the process to you again, Sergeant?” Cid asked over the speaker as the scientists filed out of the room.

 

“I understand the gist of it, Doctor,” Kefka replied. “No need for further delays.”

 

“Very well. We’ll be monitoring you from here. Just a final reminder, neither you nor the Esper will be sedated during the transfusion – we want as few variables interfering with the process as possible.”

 

“I remember,” Kefka snapped, impatience finally bubbling to the surface. He took a breath and smoothed his features back to neutrality. “Forgive me, Doctor. I’m beginning to think you’re stalling…”

 

“Not at all,” something in Cid’s tone belied his words. “Brace yourself, Sergeant, the infusion will begin when I reach zero.”

 

Kefka took a deep breath as the doctor began counting down. His monitor betrayed his nerves as its beeping increased with his heartrate. In the corner, the gauges on the Esper’s capsule slowly moved to the empty position as whatever drugs they’d been pumping into it faded from its system.

He locked eyes with it again.

It grinned.

 

-●-

 

Oh, those foolish little creatures.

He could feel his strength returning even as the doctor’s grating, garbled voice intoned number after number.

As soon as his power reached its peak, he’d break out of his prison and burn this place to the ground. He’d char them all to ash and cinder – every doctor and lab assistant, each soldier and officer, every man and woman in this cursed tower of steel.

And when his strength was spent and he’d turned to magicite, perhaps his brothers and sisters would find him and take him home.

To heal or be laid to rest didn’t matter, so long as this place was a smoldering crater, nothing more than a scar on the earth to match the ones they’d left on his body and soul.

It wouldn’t be long now.

The human on the table watched him again. He stared back, fangs on full display. He flexed his claws as his warmth seeped back into his limbs. The long-muted song of his power began to chime in his mind, building in complexity and intensity with each second that passed.

This anticipation was the closest thing to joy that he’d felt since being trapped here. Vindictive glee laced the ever-present rage that bubbled inside him.

Oh, the hell he’d unleash.

His song had grown to a crescendo of sound. He curled in on himself as his power built. The humans would associate the posture with weakness.

How wrong they’d be.

Time to play.

 

-●-

 

The Esper drew its knees to its chin, hiding its face in its arms. Flames licked at its forearms and shins. Orange light crackled and rippled over its skin as gravity released its hold on it. With each pulse of power, it rose higher in its prison.

Power that he’d soon share. Kefka grinned in exhilaration.

Cid’s countdown reached zero.

Red liquid pumped through the tubes connecting Kefka to the Esper’s capsule, swirling into one of the IV bags before traveling down to his port.

His veins flooded with warmth, instantly soothing the chill of the room. He could swear he heard the edges of a symphony somewhere behind his eyes. He let out an incredulous laugh. He felt invigorated, expanded, fingertips tingling with energy.

He huffed out another breathless laugh, breath steaming in the air.

 

“How are you doing, Sergeant?” Cid asked over the intercom.

 

“Fine, Doctor. It’s surprisingly pleasant.”

 

“Excellent. Can you descri—”

 

Everything exploded.

 

-●-

 

Something was wrong. Instead of the crescendo of fury he’d waited for, he felt his power draining away.

An alien mind brushed his own, thoughts giddy and frothing with excitement. Satisfaction poured over him like a warm bath. He would toil away in obscurity no longer – with this new power, he could pursue his ambitions unhampered.

They were syphoning his power into that human!

How dare they?

How dare they??

Wrath like nothing he’d felt before overtook him. Foolish, short-sighted creatures! Humans never learned. They’d been chasing power for a millennium and now they’d found a way to get it.

Too bad they’d underestimated the power fire held.

Drawing on reserves he hadn’t tapped since the War of the Creators so many hundreds of years before, he pushed every last ounce of poisoned flame into the unsuspecting mind they’d linked to his.

Not every vessel was made to hold power such as his.

Time to test theirs.

 

-●-

 

The world was burning. Red lights flashed, color muted in comparison to the hellfire dying the room orange. White hot flares burst behind his eyes, popping and flashing in a disorienting display.

Warmth had turned scalding. His blood bubbled in his veins as he expanded faster than his physical form allowed. Skin stretched paper-thin would rip and split from the strain, he was certain.

Voices – frantic and garbled. A pulsing melody written in flame. Alarms fading in and out in a panicked counterrhythm to his galloping heart. It all wove together into a deafening symphony punctuated by a hoarse animal screaming.

He hadn’t realized his throat could produce such a sound.

Too much. Maybe he cried that thought aloud. Too much. toomuchtoomuchtoomuchTOOMUCH!

 

-●-

 

Not enough. Never enough.

The human’s mind begged for respite, filled to the brim and overflowing with his power.

It didn’t matter. He had more to give and he wouldn’t stop until he’d extracted every last drop of retribution for him and his kin.

The screams did nothing to mollify him. Whatever torment he could inflict on this creature was insignificant compared to the tortures they’d put him through. He pushed more power into the human’s mind, waiting for it to burst like overripe fruit.

It pushed back, flooding its pain back into him. Rage and betrayal and fear and no-it’s-not-supposed-to-be-this-way. He roared, digging his claws deeper into the human’s mind as he seized in agony.

No more pain. No more. nomorenomorenomoreNOMORE!

 

-●-

 

No more. He couldn’t take anymore.

He jerked desperately against the restraints, but the cuffs did their job too well. Shackled to the chair, he had no choice but to endure the unendurable. He couldn’t escape. He was powerless to stop it.

He hated it.

 

-●-

 

He didn’t want to feel the human’s pain. He forced it back, layering on his own. All the fear, the despair, the slow drain of hope until there was nothing left but useless fury.

The memory of such helplessness enraged him anew.

He hated it.

 

-●-

 

Demonic laughter filled his head, the Esper’s voice the only clear sound in the maelstrom. It relished his agony. Even as he tried to push back, it returned the pain with more of its own.

It hated him.

He hated it back.

 

-●-

 

The human’s hatred burned bright in the firestorm. He let it feel his satisfaction. Compared to the scientists’ cold indifference, the heat of such loathing was almost soothing. He dug his claws in farther.

Let it hate him.

He hated it first.

 

-●-

 

More panicked voices. More useless hands fluttering and prodding. Stupid scientists with no answers, who could offer no respite.

He hated them.

 

-●-

 

Stupid humans, drowning now in their lofty ambitions. Greedy creatures grasping at power they could never hope to control.

He hated them.

 

-●-

 

“His brain is boiling, Doctor!”

 

“I can see that!” Cid jabbed a finger at the brainwaves readout. “We can’t risk severing the connection when their minds are so intertwined. Have you managed to subdue the Esper yet?”

 

“We’re trying – it’s burning through the sedative as fast as we can pump it in.”

 

“Then increase the dose!”

 

“Impossible, sir. We’ve already maxed out the machinery.”

 

In the room below, Kefka let out an especially shrill screech, back arching off the chair, cuffs rattling as he spasmed.

 

-●-

 

Nothing existed but the power’s song. Each note a knife, it cut his mind asunder.

There was nothing left of him but hatred.

 

-●-

 

The lab assistant yelped and jumped back, drawing Cid’s attention from the readouts to the operating room.

With a frothing snarl, Kefka lurched forward, veins in his head and neck bulging. The cuffs at his wrists glowed red-hot, then blistering white, before dripping onto the floor as molten slag. Still screaming, Kefka ripped the monitors from his head before tearing the IV ports out of his arms.

 

-●-

 

The human severed their connection. He smirked, mind fogging as the drugs overtook him.

He’d won.

Even if all that remained was his hatred.

 

-●-

 

His arms were painted crimson. Kefka watched, mind floating, as the scientists scrambled to staunch the flow of blood. Whether they succeeded or not seemed oddly unimportant. He ignored their worried questions, listening instead to the echoes of the Esper’s song that lingered in his mind.

It promised power.

He looked at the scientists’ frightened faces.

He grinned.

Chapter 12: Recuperation

In the weeks that followed, Kefka felt rather askew.

The Esper’s song was distracting, chiming away in the back of his mind. He worried the scientists with his inability to focus on their questions. They’d labelled him temperamental when he snapped at them to be quiet as he strained to catch the increasingly elusive melody.

His voice was the loudest thing in the room, grating and creaking in the wake of his screams. He’d torn his vocal cords, they told him.

In those early days, they’d kept him in a soft room with a soft bed. They’d wrapped him in soft clothing and fed him soft food. Their questions were asked in soft tones. Their murmured observations were even softer. Their entrances and exits from the room were soft, making sure to never shut the door with any sort of force. Even their facial expressions were soft, all pity and concern and empathetic worry.

It was maddening.

As the cotton-swathed weeks passed, the scientists’ questions were increasingly able to hold his attention. He was able to match their tones, voice even and patient and polite once more, though plagued with a high-pitched rasp that seemed permanent. They noted that his change in temperament had been temporary and began speaking to him as if he were a person, not a rabid creature about to snap.

That was infuriating.

The Esper’s song faded from his waking mind, much to his keepers’ relief. If its hate-filled laughter continued to haunt his dreams, well, that was something they didn’t need to know.

 

“How are you feeling?” Leo had come by for a visit.

 

“Bored out of my mind,” Kefka answered with unusual candor. His gaze lingered on the single star that had replaced the silver spray of roses on Leo’s uniform. “I see congratulations are in order, Brigadier General Christophe.”

 

Leo nodded. “I hear you’ll soon be receiving similar congratulations.”

 

“Soon?” Kefka’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I thought the promotion was automatic – part of the deal.” He’d withstood literal hellfire. They wouldn’t – couldn’t – deny him now.

 

“It is,” Leo hastened to reassure him. “However, given the undue distress the infusion caused you, Doctor del Norte and his team have requested a three-month delay in filing the paperwork to further assess your condition – make sure there aren’t any lingering injuries as you process your new abilities.”

 

“But… I’m fine!”

 

“Your chart mentions persistent headaches?”

 

“Hardly worth noting.” Kefka fought the urge to roll his eyes.

 

“And yet…” Leo gestured to the note on his chart.

 

“What do you suggest, Sir?” The honorific tasted like ash on his tongue.

 

“Let’s ease you back into your duties. Do you feel up to returning to your old quarters and keeping an eye on Terra until your promotion goes through?” Leo smiled as he mentioned the child. “She’s missed you.”

 

“I find that surprising.” Equally surprising was the realization that it wasn’t unwelcome. His lips twitched in a faint, but genuine, smile.

 

“I think she did too.” Leo pulled a bright scrap of paper from his breast pocket. “She made you this.”

 

Kefka took the little card – covered in childish drawings of moogles and flowers – and flipped it open. A simple note in surprisingly neat handwriting told him to feel better soon.

 

“Is that a tonberry?” His smile grew in spite of himself. “Should I be worried, Sir?”

 

Leo laughed. “Her fondness for them does persist.”

 

Kefka studied the card. It was a cheerful thing, overflowing with color and light. Looking at it, he almost felt himself again.

Perhaps a few more months of babysitting duty wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, it might be nice to be around someone else with fire under their skin and in their fingers.

He wondered if she heard the music too.

 

-●-

 

If Cid never saw another memo, he’d die a happy man.

 

Test Subject MAG2-a Progress Report:

Sergeant Palazzo continues to make limited progress, failing to move beyond creating and manipulating small quantities of fire in comparison to the rate of improvement shown by Sub. MAG1-a. In the face of such low yield and in light of the difficulties encountered during infusion…

 

Cid rolled his eyes at the Emperor’s expectations and demands. Didn’t the man recognize that any success this early in the process was nothing short of a miracle? Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continued to skim the recommendations and notes on changes they’d already implemented. He reached the final bullet point and his eyes widened.

 

Recommend younger test subject for increased brain plasticity. Ages 6-8 ideal (see chart 6b for supporting data).

 

The report crumpled in his fist. If he’d had even the smallest power to command flames, he’d have set the cursed sheet of paper alight. He buried his head in his hands and tugged at his hair, wondering – not for the first time – how they’d arrived in such a place.

Chapter 13: Get It Right This Time

Notes:

TW: This snippet is entirely using a child as leverage to coerce an adult into compliance.

Lips pressed in a pale line, Cid stared white-faced at the sheaf of papers Dr. Arabello had placed on his desk.

 

“You can’t be serious.”

 

Arabello regarded him steadily. “You’ve seen the data. All evidence points to a younger subject accepting and adapting to infusion better than an adult would. Celes is the perfect age and already under the care of our medical team.” He gestured to the medical release forms again. “In other words, the ideal candidate.”

 

“No.” Cid shook his head. ‘I won’t do that to her. How we could even conceive of following that trail of data after witnessing what the procedure did to Sergeant Palazzo…” He ran his hand down his face. “Surely we can all agree it would be unpardonably cruel to inflict that on a child.”

 

Arabello sighed. “I warned the Emperor that would be your response.” He reached into his jacket’s inner pocket and pulled out another sheaf of paperwork. “He authorized this as our second option.”

 

Cid reached warily for the papers. His hand froze when he saw the words at the top, bold capital letters stark against the paper.

 

Request for Immediate Removal of a Minor

 

Arabello slid that page to the side, revealing the one underneath.

 

Contract for Transfer of Guardianship

 

Both were already signed and dated by both Gestahl and Arabello. Cid hadn't thought his face could grow paler.

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

Arabello didn’t even have the grace to look abashed. Face impassive, he laid the second stack of papers next to the first. Cid swallowed.

 

“Your niece is the Emperor’s chosen candidate for the next infusion,” Arabello said dispassionately. “The only choice you have is whether she’ll be in your care or someone else’s when it happens.” He tapped the papers. “Because, either way, it will happen.”

 

“We can’t… not the way the process is now. It would kill her.” Cid’s voice was hoarse. Arabello reached for the custody papers. Cid grabbed his wrist. “Give me time to fix it first.” He scrawled his signature across the bottom of the medical release. "Please."

 

Something like satisfaction flashed in Arabello’s eyes. “Wise choice, Dr. del Norte.” He folded both sets of papers and tucked them back in his breast pocket before standing and moving to the doorway.

 

“You have nine months.” He opened the door and looked over his shoulder. “I sincerely hope you get it right this time.” He left, shutting the door gently behind him.

 

Alone in his lab, Cid buried his face in his hands.

 

“Cecily, forgive me.” He looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Forgive me.” 

Notes:

In-game, Cid mentions that he shouldn't have complied with the infusion experiments, no matter how he was threatened. He also talked about loving Celes as a daughter and regretting making her into a Magitek Knight.

Chapter 14: Kindness in the Dark

Celes walked between the two white-clad lab assistants, glancing between them in confusion. They’d taken her from science class. She frowned. Uncle Cid knew it was her favorite, so he usually scheduled her checkups after it was done.

They turned down a different hallway than usual. Celes tugged on one of the adults’ sleeve.

 

“Uncle Cid’s lab is that way.” She pointed down the corridor.

 

The nurse shook her head. “We’re not going to his lab.” Her voice was the same kind of gentle Uncle Cid used whenever he had bad news. “Remember? You have a special checkup today.”

 

Right. Uncle Cid had told her about that last night. Celes took the scientist’s hand and followed her hesitantly. All the grown-ups seemed unusually quiet today. And they were smiling at her too much, but not real smiles – small ones that hid their teeth and left their eyes sad.  

The nurse took her to a small room and helped her change into one of the funny gowns she sometimes had to wear for checkups. Then they went to a small room with a wall of mirrors and a single chair in the middle. The chair was covered by a fluffy blanket. Rows of IV bags filled with different colored liquids hung behind it.

Celes climbed into the chair and wiggled backwards until she was fully seated. She looked around and frowned.

 

“Where’s Uncle Cid?”

 

“I’m here, Celes.” Her uncle’s voice crackled through the room. “I’m just on the other side of the wall.”

 

Celes waved hesitantly at her reflection and Uncle Cid chuckled.

 

“Why can’t you be in here with me?”

 

“I’m making sure everything is safe and working the way it should. I’ll come in when you’re done.”

 

Celes nodded even though she didn’t like that idea.

At her uncle’s request, one of the nurses brought in Celes’ favorite stuffed chocobo. She hugged it close and kicked her heels against the thick blanket.

 

“I’ll need your arm, sweetie,” the nurse said.

 

Celes extended her arm and didn’t cry when the IV port went in, though her eyes welled and her lips quivered.

 

“That’s a brave girl,” the nurse soothed. “Now the other one and we’re done. Lean back now.”

 

Celes settled against the back of the chair as it slid into a reclined position. The nurse attached a tube to the left port and gently brushed a clump of hair off Celes’ forehead.

 

“There we go. We’re giving you some medicine to make you sleepy. You’ll take a nice, warm nap and when you wake up, your uncle will be here.”

 

Celes nodded and hugged her chocobo tighter. Relaxing into the soft blanket, she sighed and waited. The nurse waited too, attaching another tube to the port in Celes’ other arm while the other lab assistant checked various readouts and gauges. After several minutes, she turned back to Celes with a kind smile.

 

“How’re you feeling, sweetie?”

 

“I’m still not very sleepy. I’m sorry.”

 

The nurse’s smile turned strained. She patted Celes’ hand as she hurried out of the room. After several minutes, she came back in, smile frozen into a grimace – still kind, but also sorrowful and scared now.

 

“Well, um…” The nurse seemed lost. “We – we need to put these straps around your wrists and ankles, okay?” The question wobbled and she moved the blanket aside to reveal cuffs on each of the armrests.

 

Celes’ eyes widened and she clutched her chocobo. Gently, the nurse took the toy and nestled it against Celes’ shoulder and cheek before carefully securing the cuffs to her arms and legs.

 

“Uncle Cid, I don’t like this,” Celes called out, looking everywhere but at the nurse.

 

“I know, Celes. I’m sorry.” Her uncle’s voice sounded sad. “I promise we’ll take them off as soon as it’s safe.”

 

A mechanical whir grabbed Celes’ attention as a glass capsule rose up through the floor and settled in the far corner. A pretty blue lady with ragged green hair floated inside. Celes raised her hand to wave, but the cuffs wouldn’t let her. So she smiled instead, trying to look friendly instead of scared.

The Blue Lady’s gold eyes widened and her shoulders twitched like she’d been startled.

 

-●-

 

Everything had been as Ifrit described until she looked at the human on the chair. Then any anger she’d gathered to steel herself vanished. She felt as if she’d been slapped.

That wasn’t an adult.

That was a child.

These monsters were using children now.

Too stunned to gather her rage again, her gaze darted between the scientists – who looked as distressed as she felt – and the girl-child, smiling bravely at her, trying to hide her fear.

Something had already gone wrong. She could exploit that, use it against her captors to thwart them in any way possible. But… the one to suffer would be the only innocent in the room. 

Her mind conjured memories of another girl-child - another innocent - being ripped from her friend's arms years before and her heart clenched. They'd all been powerless to protect that little one.

She wouldn't fail to protect this one.

 

-●-

 

“We need to postpone the procedure,” Cid said, glaring at Dr. Arabello. “The anesthesia shows no sign of kicking in and—”

 

“Your previous objection was noted, Dr. del Norte,” Arabello cut him off. “There is no need to repeat it.” He raised an eyebrow and examined one of the data readouts. “We have catered to your every request, from the timeframe to the element being infused. However, here, we cannot oblige you. The Emperor will tolerate no more delays and all other conditions are optimal for us to proceed.” He locked eyes with Cid. “Therefore, we will do so.”

 

Reaching past Cid, he punched the intercom button and gave the order.

 

-●-

 

A strange voice told the nurse to begin. Eyes widening, she squeezed Celes’ hand, tucking the blanket more securely around her. The lab assistant began turning knobs and flipping switches.

Celes watched as pale blue liquid travelled from the Blue Lady’s capsule to one of the IV bags, swirling through the clear liquid in pretty patterns. Other colored fluids poured through the tubes into her ports.

 

“It’s a rainbow,” she whispered.

 

Then everything froze over.

First her fingers, then her toes. It was so cold it hurt and Celes whimpered as the ice inched up her legs and arms. Despite the blanket wrapped around her, she began to shiver, teeth chattering. Her chocobo slid off her shoulder and fell to the ground. She sniffled and her chin wobbled.

 

“Her lips are turning blue, Doctor.”

 

The stranger’s voice told them to continue.

 

“Where’s Uncle Cid?” Celes choked out the question. “He said he’d be there.” Before the nurse could reply, Celes began to cry, tears freezing on her skin. “Uncle Cid, help me!”

 

Hush, child. It will be alright, I promise you. A completely new voice whispered in Celes’ mind. She heard tapping and turned her head towards the sound. The Blue Lady stared at her, hand pressed against the glass. I will cushion your mind.

 

I’m scared. Celes didn’t know if she said it out loud or just thought it. The world was sparking and spinning out in crystalline fractals. It was beautiful, but she couldn’t quite tell where she was anymore. I want Uncle Cid.

 

I know, little one, but I’m here with you. You aren’t alone, her Blue Lady soothed.

 

I’m so cold. More tears streaked Celes’ cheeks, leaving thin trails of ice on her face.

 

I won’t let you freeze. Focus on the patterns. Tell me what you see.

 

Snowflakes. Celes hiccupped. They’re pretty. A tremulous smile broke through the tears.

 

Yes. Those are my power – yours now too, if those fools have their way. Can you make them change?

 

They’re doing that on their own. Celes watched the hypnotic kaleidoscope and her eyes drooped. The nurse said I was supposed to sleep.

 

Then I will sing to you and we’ll see if you drift off.

 

Immediately, Celes felt the sensation of fingers stroking her hair as a melody with no words slid through her mind. Lilting and gentle, it rocked and soothed her, spreading with the ice through her body. She drowsily hummed along.

The cold didn’t hurt anymore. She lifted a blue-tipped finger as far as the cuffs would allow and tapped one of the snowflakes. Glowing where she touched it, it spiraled out into a new shimmering pattern.

Celes smiled.

Notes:

If you're interested in short follow-up to Celes' infusion, check out Pebbles in a Cosmic Pond Ch. 13 - "Ice"

Chapter 15: A Proposition

Kefka grunted and his eyes tightened, but otherwise gave no sign of pain. Three years of persistent headaches had made him a master at masking discomfort. Unfortunately, they’d also made it more difficult to mask his irritation.

 

“Is there a reason I’ve been chosen for this particular duty?” The question came out from between clenched teeth, despite his best efforts to sound only pleasantly curious.

 

“Well, as the only adult with… similar powers, Doctor del Norte thought it would be a good fit for both of you. You’re also already familiar and have been fulfilling this role for some time now…” The nameless science lackey fiddled with his paperwork, struggling to maintain eye contact.

 

Kefka suppressed an eyeroll. Goddess save him from the well-intentioned.

That may be the official story, but he knew better. A general in name only, he’d been confined to Vector and relegated to the easiest assignments – pity work for the failed experiment, especially in light of the child prodigy that had followed him.

Celes’ powers had been growing steadily over the last few years. Her control and range of abilities would soon rival Terra’s. Meanwhile, his had plateaued, never moving beyond parlor tricks and the occasional fireball.

Which was why – despite the hellfire, and the headaches, the laughter-filled nightmares, and the song that pounded away in his mind day in and day out – he was being permanently assigned to the obscurity of babysitting duty.

 

“Will it be a problem, General Palazzo?” The science lackey’s hesitant question brought his attention back to the matter at hand.

 

“Not at all.” Kefka took a breath and blew it out, willing himself to be calm. He was fond enough of Terra, after all, and her guileless affection was a balm for the relentless mix of pity and disappointment he faced from everyone else. Besides, if del Norte was pushing this, Kefka could leverage that for a favor. “I was merely curious as to the reasoning behind the decision, but it seems to be sound. I assume you have papers you need me to sign?”

 

The scientist breathed out a sigh of relief and handed him a stack of forms, pointing to the places that needed his signature and initials.

A few strokes of his pen and Terra was officially his ward.

 

-●-

 

 “C’mon, Mr. Kefka!” Terra tugged at his hand, bouncing as far ahead of him as his arm would allow.

 

His mouth twitched at the ten-year-old’s impatience. He slowed his gait to a creeping amble. “I’m not sure I can go any faster…”

 

“Yes, you can!” Terra pulled his arm again. When it did nothing to speed him up, she circled behind him and pushed with all her might, earning a slight chuckle from him. “We’ll be late!”

 

“And yet, I think your friend will be waiting for you all the same.” Kefka allowed a small smile to break through and resumed his normal pace as they approached the park. Terra grinned at him and skipped along beside him.

 

Kefka saw Doctor del Norte and Celes already waiting for them. Celes waved happily and Terra looked up at him, vibrating with excitement.

 

“Well, go on.” He laughed outright as Terra took off like a shot to join her friend.

 

These playdates with Celes had become a weekly occurrence. Given the frequent presence of Doctor Arabello despite the obvious tension between him and del Norte, Kefka surmised they were also being used to gather data.

The Empire was nothing if not efficient.

He remembered when Leo had told him about the clandestine playdates that marked Terra’s early years, describing a lonely toddler with few advocates and fewer friends. Kefka knew something about loneliness – it was why he’d agreed to take the assignment when Leo asked all those years ago.

And where did that compassion get you? The bitter thought startled him and he shook his head to clear it. After all, he had a plan. His ambitions may not yet be completely thwarted.

 

“Gentlemen,” he said, strolling over to join them.

 

Arabello gave him a perfunctory nod, but de Norte’s greeting held more warmth. The three men watched the girls play for a time, with Arabello scribbling down the occasional note.

Data gathering confirmed. Kefka raised an eyebrow.

 

“I have a proposition for you,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 

“Oh?” Arabello’s cool tone was unbothered, even as del Norte turned towards him in surprise.

 

“It seems you have strong data now for single infusions.” Kefka nodded towards the girls. “Have you considered layering them?”

 

“To what end?” Once again, Arabello sounded almost bored, but the gleam in his eyes belied his tone. Even del Norte seemed intrigued despite himself.

 

“Why limit our soldiers to a single skillset? Surely an army that can change the parameters of combat mid-battle would have a considerable edge.”

 

“The idea has merit.” Arabello conceded. “And your proposal is?”

 

Kefka shrugged. “We already know I can withstand the process. Give me a second infusion and gather all the data and samples you need.”

 

Ignoring del Norte’s alarmed expression, Arabello stared placidly at Kefka, tapping his pencil absently against his knuckles. “I imagine you aren’t doing this out of any sort of hidden passion for discovery…”

 

Kefka huffed a short chuckle through his nose. “Do my motives matter if I climb on the operating table willingly?”

 

del Norte opened his mouth to protest, but Arabello cut him off.

 

“I suppose not.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “Now, what pairs well with fire?”

Chapter 16: First Crack

Kefka strolled beside Terra as they went to her next lesson. Her latest growth spurt put her head just under his shoulder, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to the hints of pending adulthood gradually reshaping her face. The child he’d guarded for so many years was slowly being buried. She already surpassed him magically – soon she’d move beyond needing his help entirely. The melancholy of that thought sat fresh atop the general ennui he carried these days, scraping against the resentful whispers that made his brain itch.

Unaware of the cause, but still attuned to his moods – almost eerily so at times – Terra turned worried eyes towards him.

 

“Are you alright, Mr. Kefka?”

 

He forced a small smile for her. “As right as I ever am. Just a little tired, is all.”

 

She didn’t seem entirely satisfied with has answer, but she nodded all the same and turned the topic to one of the problems she was facing in her battlefield tactics studies. When she asked his advice on a particular supply line conundrum that her teacher had thrown at her, Kefka felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosen. There were no shortcuts for life experience – in this, at least, she still deferred to his greater knowledge.

He’d just opened his mouth to answer when a skittering movement caught his eye. Pulling Terra up short he pivoted to face it.

Writhing shadows danced and slithered across the walls, all leading towards a devilish creature that grinned as it approached. Draconic horns sprang from its blackened face. Elongated shark’s teeth shimmered white beneath glowing golden eyes and bladed cheekbones. Its knifelike chin extended unnaturally long under that cruel grin. Tattered black and red wings spread out behind it as it gathered speed, pulsing energy crackling around its clawed fist.

Without hesitation, Kefka shoved Terra behind him and summoned his fire, stronger now than it ever had been. He blurred slightly as he intercepted the creature, meeting it halfway down the hall. Curling his fingers into claws of his own, Kefka swung his blazing hand to gouge the cursed creature’s eyes, fully intent on carving that mocking grin from its face—

Only to stop just short of contact.

Terrified human eyes stared at him from behind a plexiglass visor. Shaking human hands were half-raised to ward him off. A muffled human voice quavered as it cried out in fear.

 

“General! Please!” The soldier’s plea was cut off by the sound of clapping.

 

Blinking, Kefka dropped his hand, panting, and looked around. Terra huddled a few yards behind him, eyes wide with confusion and fear. Kefka motioned for her to stay where she was as Dr. Arabello continued his applause, coming to stand beside the terrified soldier.

 

“Well done, General Palazzo. That was most impressive.”

 

Kefka swallowed uselessly against his dry throat. “A test?” he choked out, voice rasping.

 

“Indeed. We can hardly gauge the full extent of your new reflexes in the training arena, now can we? You’re expecting threats there.” His lips curled in a wintery smile that didn’t quite match the glitter in his eyes. “Rest assured, you more than surpassed our expectations. Speed, power, and control were all exquisitely executed.” Arabello clapped the trembling soldier on the shoulder. “You showed great fortitude, young man. No harm done, eh?”

 

Kefka’s eyes dropped to the doctor’s hand, resting right above the soldier’s rank insignia. That part of his uniform was blank. Not even a soldier – a recruit, untrained, still in bootcamp. Bile rose in his throat as he thought of the damage he’d meant to inflict. He swallowed it down.

 

“No. No harm done,” he repeated hollowly.

 

The recruit nodded, too shaken to do otherwise.

 

Arabello nodded decisively. “Very well, we’ll leave you to your day.” He glanced at Kefka. “As I said, general, most impressive. It would seem your idea of layering infusions has paid off.” Signaling the recruit to follow, he walked away, leaving Kefka tangled in his words.

 

Terra approached hesitantly. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Kefka put a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch away from him precisely, but her muscles tensed beneath his touch.

 

“Are you scared of me, Terra?”

 

He didn’t know what he wanted her answer to be, only that it was important. His shoulders tightened and knotted as he waited. She chewed on her lip for a moment before answering.

 

“N-nooo,” she sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “I know it’s your job to keep me safe.” Her voice grew firmer. “They startled you. You were doing your job.” She nodded and peered up at him, eyes wide, almost pleading. “Right, Mr. Kefka?”

 

Kefka released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Right.” He gave her a small smile, wishing it could be more comforting, and shook himself to release the lingering tension along his neck. “Let’s get you to your class then.”

 

Once Terra was safely delivered to her teacher, Kefka blew out a breath and leaned against the wall. He looked down at his hands. He’d expected them to be trembling, but they were rock-steady. He curled them into claws again before shaking his head and relaxing them.

It hadn’t been human.

He knew what he saw. He knew what provoked him to attack and it hadn’t been human.

It hadn’t.

Until it was.

And then the clapping, sounding off in a twisted counterpoint to the discordant song in his head. It had only gotten worse since the second infusion – two competing melodies now instead of a whole one.

Kefka growled.

He didn’t like Arabello’s attitude about the whole thing – too cold and calculating by far. He was sick of being a pawn to that man’s ambitions when it was supposed to be the other way around.

He closed his eyes to get his temper under control. When he opened them again, a smirk played about his mouth.

He may not like Arabello’s attitude, but the fear? He couldn’t say he minded that.

Notes:

So it begins...

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Final Fantasy VI Redone