Dystopia

This fic is co-written with the wonderfully talented writers Chephren (Loz) and AlexJ69 (Genesis, Kadaj) -and me of course (Sephiroth, Yazoo).

Warnings: Language, violence, cruelty to animals

Pairings: various (so far: Yazoo/Genesis, Loz/Kadaj, remcest)

Enjoy please!!!

Chapter 1

The auburn-haired ex-general had been awakened from his slumber just scant hours ago. Held aloft by one feathery, black wing, he left the flooded cave, only to emerge to a dark cloudy sky. Gone was the bright blue overhanging that he was used to. In it’s place was a thick, rolling, perpetual storm, with sheering winds that cut into his flesh. Fear gripped his heart. He cast his bright Mako infused blue gaze in all directions, but there seemed to be no end to the storm. He began to fly in the only direction he recognized. Toward home. Midgar. It wasn’t until the auburn angel was half way to his destination that he realized the howling wind wasn’t wind at all, but the shrieking restless souls of those who never made it to the Lifestream.

In one fluid, graceful action the one winged angel settled to the earth at the edge of the city once teeming with life. Midgar was no longer as he remembered it. Where there once stood a city alive with the hustle and bustle of everyday activity, now all the warrior beheld was a lifeless husk, made of gray buildings afraid to even exist. The word that rang in the SOLDIER’s mind was necropolis.

Searching for some form of familiarity in this unknown world he had awakened to, the master materia user sought out the Shinra Tower. He wanted the Mako jets to be there, spewing forth their bright green liquid high into the sky. He wanted the lights to penetrate the invading darkness. He wanted his home to be intact. His heart wept when he saw that the Tower no longer stood. The structure that had symbolized an empire, had been replaced by a jet black looming castle. It had been magically constructed of polished onyx, it’s deformed spires twisting and stabbing straight into the heart of the soul storm. From where he stood he could see the wrought iron fencing with it’s sharp spiked points along the top, that surrounded the fortification. The threatening, heavy, strategically placed stone gargoyles did not escape his notice either.

The red-head forced his gaze away from the gothic horror brought to life, to look back upon the city. He was searching for the inhabitants of such a desolate place. He finally spotted a few people on the streets and was not surprised to find them as gray and depressing as the city they–existed–in. The clothing the people wore was comprised of either dull brown or dirty gray patch-worked scratchy fabrics, hair lack any luster or shine, and skin tones were pale and sickly. It seemed as if all color had vanished.

What the hell had he missed during his slumber? And was this the reason he had been awakened? To become the hero he knew he was destined to be? Maybe he was to bring the sun back? The first thing he had to do was find answers. That would be a task in and of itself. “Oh, wretched storm that devours rainbows, may the goddess’ arrow pierce you to your core,” he spat the curse, as he made his way into the city.

***********

Sephiroth, appearance regal and majestic, sat on a throne of onyx that matched the castle itself . Human bones, twisted by magic and blackened by flame jetted out at odd angles from the chair, forming an array of lethal, beautiful spikes. Staring out a window, emerald eyes listless and flat from boredom, he beheld the dull lifeless city he had built for his own amusements and pleasures. He thought back to a time when it had been much more exciting. A time when people had fought him, opposed him, had given him the opportunity to repress them with bloody, cruel sanctions and tortures. Now those same people were just resigned, vegetating in the dirty, dusty streets, waiting for their lives to be over.

Just a moment ago the silver haired deity had felt something strange; an uncomfortable sense of foreboding had welled up in his chest, and it startled him. But it had only lasted a split second, so he quickly put it out of mind. Like so many things that had come to pass since he became ruler, the feeling was...forgettable. Maybe he should go down to the catacombs to have a little torture session? Lazily blinking, he leaned back instead, now gazing into the grey soul-shrieking sky. Finally he cocked his head, clear voice echoing through the darkened hall, and called for the youngest of his remnants.

Kadaj, the baby of Sephiroth’s mouth pieces, (that’s what his remnants really were now, spokesmen for the world’s new god) was in the sparring room, going over a few new techniques he'd recently acquired. His lithe young body was strained with tension as his muscle’s flexed every time he thrust his sword forward. Platinum hair, which usually swept softly against his shoulders, was plastered to his face with sweat, and his breathing was coming in short quick bursts. He was in mid-air, Souba spinning rapidly in his outstretched hand when heard Lord Fuckiroth’s voice. Kadaj landed with a curse. What did the prick want this time? There were two older remnants that Sephiroth could call upon.

With a frustrated sigh, the youngest sheathed his weapon on his back, and in a huff, stomped his way down a myriad of corridors. He reached the throne chamber, entered, and still stomping, crossed the room. With a roll of his emerald eyes, he took a knee at the base of that grotesquely made chair that Seph liked to call a throne. Kadaj dropped his head in a show of submission, and in his best imitation of true courtly etiquette, spoke humbly, "Yes, my liege?" He wanted nothing more than to stab his oldest brother in the foot right then.

Sephiroth coolly eyed his remnant, briefly considering the possibility of kicking his ugly face with the tip of his steel-toed boots, but then he abandoned the thought. He still had a use for him. "What is on the agenda for today?" he languidly asked, his eyes shifting back to the dark city.

The youngest raised his pretty head, hair swaying softly as he did. He summoned his most charming, innocent smile to his normally pouting lips. His eyes roamed up to meet and hold a twin set. "Why my lord, didn't you know?" He laughed softly, "the same agenda as everyday," the charm was gone, his tone was now condescending ,"whatever you wish it to be?" This time, he openly rolled his eyes.

Sephiroth watched the brat, his face an expressionless, calm mask. "I see," he replied slowly and with a movement as quick as lightening he summoned Masamune to hand and stabbed Kadaj through his right shoulder. Propping his head on his free hand he lifted the sword, and the boy hanging on it, with no effort. "I suppose this is a bit out of order, but I could make it my routine. Would you like that?" His voice was as expressionless as his face. Kadaj’s blood was dripping along the shiny, impeccable shaft of the blade, falling onto the black stone floor with wet noises.

Kadaj's scream could be heard throughout the castle, as the blade bit through skin, muscle and bone. He hung on the steel, yelling every curse word he knew, as his feet kicked thin air. "God dammit Sephiroth!" There were tears stinging the boy's eyes. Regardless of how well the little one could fight and dish out pain, he didn't handle it very well. After all, he was still just a kid. "I was only kidding." He whimpered "please pull it out."

From his position in the kitchen, Loz, the eldest remnant, heard his baby brother’s scream. Instantly he was prepared to face down an entire army. He bolted toward the sound, stopping only when he reached the room where the scream had emanated from. The heavy oaken door to the torch-lit room abruptly swung open, and Loz ran in, still battle ready. He stopped up short though when he took in the scene before him. Kadaj was speared by Sephiroth's impressive blade and the teen was kicking and screaming. Loz knew better than to rush Sephiroth since the elder had been bestowed with Mother's godly gifts. Loz could easily make it behind Seph and wrap his arm-bearing Dual Hound around Big Brother's throat, but then what? Death for both remnants, that's what. He did not move, only spoke softly, respectfully, to the ex-Silver General. “Um, Big Brother Majesty, could you pull your sword out of 'Dajy? Please?” He felt sure enough of his actions to kneel in reverence at Sephiroth's feet.

Emerald eyes darting towards the other remnant, Sephiroth just sourly lifted a silver brow, irritated that he had been interrupted and called 'Big brother' (he despised that label, he didn’t want to be connected to these losers in any way. His loathing was made worse because they were connected by blood). However, he lowered his sword and with a flick of his wrist threw Kadaj to the ground. Masamune dissolved back into thin air. “Unless you can appreciate my definition of fun, I advise you to spare me your’s,” he said in Kadaj’s direction, his mood at least lightened a bit as he heard the pained panting coming from the teen. “Now, go into the city and find me something entertaining, or serve to fulfill my–needs– yourself.”

Kadaj hit the ground hard and slid on his ass. His hand went directly to the wound. Being released from Masamune had hurt almost as bad as when it pierced him. His lips pursed as he gracefully got back to his feet. He was in no mood for any more shows of dominance, so instead of meeting Sephiroth's cruel gaze, his eyes found Seph’s lips and he nodded quickly in understanding of the God’s words. With a bow he turned, and started walking away. On his way out, he grabbed one of Loz’s muscular biceps and pulled him along. Although he was secretly grateful for his big-hearted brother’s intervention, the baby couldn’t help but hiss, “I didn't need your help. I had it under control.” Now to find Yaz, Kadaj thought. He wasn't going into the city without both of his ‘real’ brothers.

Loz felt that tight grip on his arm and smirked, “Sure, 'Dajy...” If he had been sword-fucked by Big Brother Majesty, he would be embarrassed too. No doubt about that. As they exited the throne room and down the large entry hall, Loz steered them right at the next cross hall and through a series of doors that led them out a small side door of the castle. There they found a timid female servant gathering food from a small vegetable garden for the evening meal. She bowed silently as the brothers passed, though neither really paid her any mind. What did interest them, however, was a high pitched shriek that could only have been made by a small rodent.

Just beyond the cabbage rows, the unmistakable slender figure of Yazoo sat on a lopped-off tree stump facing away from his brothers. The middle remnant was clad in his usual black leather armor and his long silver hair danced softly in a blowing evening breeze. Loz felt a sense of foreboding, that his little Yaz was not behaving himself at all out here. “Yazoo... um, what are you up to over here? And what are you doing with that rabbit?”

Yazoo stiffened a bit as he heard his brother’s voice behind him. He had been so absorbed by his activity that he didn’t even notice them approaching. "Nothing," he simply said, briefly rolling his head to the side so he could spare them an expressionless glance over his shoulder before he looked back down. Shutting his jackknife he let it vanish inside his pocket and set the rabbit back onto its feet. The beautiful remnant smirked a bit as the rodent awkwardly tried to hobble away. However, with no skin under its feet the movements looked pretty funny.

"So, what did we do now to annoy His Highness?" Yazoo asked with an acrid undertone as he turned around fully. He gracefully rose from the tree stump and let his mocking gaze fall on his siblings. Of course he had heard Kadaj’s screams, his ears were made to hear such things, though he ignored them. The rabbit was too important. Rising to his impressive height, he tilted his head, and waited for an answer.

The smallest sibling still had a hand over his open, throbbing wound. Blood was seeping through his pale fingers. His emerald eyes narrowed on his tall, pretty brother, and his mouth was set in a straight line. By now he had released his hand from Loz's arm, and couldn't give two shits about the crippled creature trying to make an escape. He was injured dammit. So help Sephiroth if that bastard had done permanent damage to his sword arm...

"I didn't do anything." Kadaj kicked his little foot against the ground. Then he whined, "I was only joking with him. And Yazzy... you know what a dick he can be." He then mumbled under his breath, "should have stabbed him in the foot when I had the chance." He took a deep breath, and winced. Even moving caused his
shoulder to ache, "so now he wants us to go into the city, and find him some entertainment. That fucker." Gaia, how he hated that wanna-be excuse for a god.

“Aw 'Dajy, you should have!” Loz replied to the mumbles of the baby, “That’s okay, next time, right? There will be plenty more chances!” Loz winked at him good-naturedly. “Well, we better get going then, it's getting late and the prime choice meat will be out after a while.” Loz waggled his eyebrows, excited for the prospect of finding some hot ass, even if it was only for Big Brother...hell, it was hunting all the same.

Following Kadaj's lead, the three Remnants headed into the city with the silence and grace of hungry cats.


tbc

Reviews are very much appreciated^___^