Author's Note:

This is a collaboration piece between Tyramir and Nisus. Neither of us own Final Fantasy. Just so you know.

---

There were no stars. No pinpricks of light in the endless blackness of the sky. No gleaming diamonds of brightness. No flashpoints that served as beacons of hope. There was only darkness. This was a place where stars did not exist, a place the Gods had abandoned, and where heroes feared to tread. This would be a place for despair if such a thing existed in it, for despair could not exist without joy, and joy had never once found its way to this place.

This was the Negative Zone.

It was a simple place. Complete darkness, for no light could truly touch its emptiness. There existed only three things in the Negative Zone, and that was emptiness, monsters, and the Path.

And as Gilgamesh, four-armed warrior of the realms and appointed guardian of the fragile dimensional barrier stumbled down the Path, he wondered which one of the three groups he truly belonged to. The stone walkway that crisscrossed and curved in its expanse across the multiverse, which in fact represented the lifeline between worlds? The monsters that walked it, looking for new places to inflict their rage and blood thirst upon? Or worse, was he the emptiness, the nothingness of the Negative Zone given birth?

There were days that the former mercenary's heart felt empty. How cheated he was in his life and his ambitions, for they had been nothing but dust.

But waxing poetic and comparing himself to the Negative Zone should have been the last thing on Gilgamesh's mind, he knew. Two of his four arms clenched his stomach, which had been recently wrapped with bandages. The wound bled little, but the problem was, it wouldn't stop bleeding. It refused to clot, but then, that made perfect sense, given the weapon that had inflicted the awful gash.

Another of his arms dangled at his side, broken from his recent fight, and the other clutched a sword – Excalibur –, which he used as a walking stick. Ironic that the sword that had once been his life's obsession, a killing weapon no less, now served as something to lean on as he limped down the Path.

All he had to do was make it back home. Back to the man who had given him this task, this enforced career of policing foreign worlds. Gilgamesh didn't know the man's name… didn't even know the man's face. He always appeared in the same place, though. A figure of a black-armored man, visor lowered, features distorted by shadows despite the cave he always appeared in being perpetually bathed in light. Gilgamesh always referred to him as 'the Shadow Man,' and it'd stuck.

The Shadow Man had claimed that he'd saved Gilgamesh from death, and the four-armed warrior recalled dying in battle once, even if the details were a little hazy. Something about sacrificing himself for… bah! He couldn't even remember the names of the people he'd valiantly defended to the death. But the Shadow Man claimed it, just as he claimed that now he and his people would sleep, and so their own guardianship of the realms was over. Now it was up to champions chosen by the former guardians to maintain the balance. Champions like Gilgamesh.

Shaking his head, the former mercenary realized that his mind had wandered once more. He needed to keep it on track. He needed to reach the Shadow Man, receive healing, and warn of the danger that was coming, the threat to every world that ever was.

He needed to warn of the threat of Sephiroth.

Chapter One

Highwind

Zeromus was defeated.

The creature that had threatened the world with oblivion was dead. His former ally, Golbez, was now exiled to eternal slumber on the moon alongside the rest of the Lunarians, save one. All the kingdoms had joined as one in celebration of the momentous victory. Where once there had been war, there was now cheer. Strangers welcomed each other with open arms, and were glad for the one precious fact that dominated their minds. They were alive.

King Cecil of Baron was to wed Rosa, his life's love, and for that, people were even happier. Yang had ascended the throne of Fabul, Edward of Damcyan, and Edge of Eblan. The heroes that had saved the world seemed to be taking on the reins of the world.

Cid was once more in his respected position of airship engineer of Baron, though he had many conferences with the Dwarves of the world below about new designs on anything that happened to cross his mind. Palom and Porom, the two wizardly twins, were back now in their roles of students in Mysidia, though with their experiences behind them, seemed to know more of their craft than some of their teachers.

Rydia had returned to the Land of Monsters. Edge's attempted courtship of her was obvious and clumsy, and many suspected that the ninja had in fact chased her away. Those that mattered, her friends – including Edge – knew that Rydia had returned to her home there not to run away, but merely because it was her home. If ever she chose to come back, she would do so on her terms.

And what of Kain Highwind, the mighty Dragoon?

What of him, indeed. Rumors abounded of his fate, for in the days of victory over Zeromus, Kain had disappeared entirely, without a word to his friends. And worse, Edward, ever the bard, had chosen to tell the tales of all of those who had participated in the mighty battle, leaving out no details at all. Not even those depicting Kain as a jealous man, hating the man he loved as a brother for earning Rosa's affection.

The common people, hearing of such a love triangle, had to expand it on their own. More tales were told, and possible theories as to where Kain Highwind could possibly be. Some said that at the announcement of Cecil and Rosa's wedding, Kain had taken himself to Baron's battlements and thrown himself from there. Others claimed that the Dragoon had indeed hurled himself from those stony walls, but not to his death. Instead, with his incredible jumping ability, Kain threw himself to the stars, launching himself upwards, chasing the departing moon, which had disappeared with the death of Zeromus. That particular story was given little credence, and other stories were spun. Kain challenged Cecil to a duel to the death for Rosa's love, and the Dragoon managed to nearly claim victory! Only, at the last moment, he deliberately hurled himself upon his Paladin friend's sword. Supposed witnesses to the event said that as the jealous fool died, Cecil wept, for there could be no other action in the face of such a tragedy. Other tales, spoken by more optimistic people, said that Kain was not dead, but seeking out a great treasure, some excellent wedding gift for the King and future Queen of Baron, the couple that nearly had everything. Was he on quest, perhaps, to find some magnificent thing that would forever symbolize his approval for the wedding between the two?

There were other stories, of course. There always would be. The common people were gossip-entertainers and rumormongers. If ever the truth came out of Kain Highwind's true fate, not even the most gullible would believe it.

It began on a mountaintop.

It wasn't just any random mountain, but a specific one, sought out by Kain for its reputation. It was a dangerous place, filled with treacherous cliffs and faces, and littered with monsters. Thrill seekers and would-be adventurers made the attempt to assault the mountain every year. None returned. None until Cecil had once made the trip. That was when the Dark Knight had conquered the mountain, and emerged from it a Paladin. Once of darkness, now of light.

This was Mount Ordeals.

This was the place that Kain Highwind had sought, the place where he would enter a bitter, jealous Dragoon, one who had been susceptible to the mental domination of Zemus, and exit as…. He wasn't sure what he would come out as. But whatever it was, it would probably be a better man.

And so the blond man, dressed in his magnificent blue, dragon-skin armor, stood at the top of the mountain, staring into the sunset. Beside him, his lance stood, point driven into the ground, like some defiant standard. He had made it this far. He would not back down now. But even with his back to it, he could sense a presence within the cave. Something dark and uninviting. Something terrible.

He had never shied from a task in his life before. When his father had requested that he become a Dragoon, no matter what, he had taken up the role, even when his king had demanded he train as a Dark Knight. When Cecil had asked him to once more defy their king in open rebellion, once more had Kain Highwind stepped up to the task without hesitation. And when Zemus had crept into his mind, Kain had accepted the vile intrusion, joined forces with Golbez, and struck out against Cecil, the man he dared call brother, without a second thought.

But now, as Kain stood at the top of Mount Ordeals, he found that he was now second-guessing himself. This was a place made by the Lunarians, Cecil's people, as a test for that very same Paladin. It was Cecil's trial, not Kain's, and who knew if Ordeals held anything for the Dragoon at all? What if only death awaited him, and not redemption? And even by going in, it only held to the path that was Kain's greatest fear. Always before he had been Cecil's shadow, always one step behind the other man's glory. By following the Paladin's path once more, would the Dragoon continue to be that shadow?

Putting his dragon helmet on firmly, Kain tore his lance from the ground and stepped into the cave.

As dark as it appeared from the outside, once Kain stepped in, he was nearly tempted to step out. As soon he his head entered the cave, the darkness disappeared, replaced by brilliant light. Everywhere – the floor, the ceiling, and the walls – was beautiful crystal. Not rocks jutting from the ground, but the cave itself was crafted from pure diamond. And the far wall gleamed so perfectly, was so polished, that Kain could see his own reflection in it. He immediately walked toward it, knowing what would happen. Cecil had told him this much, if no other detail. The Dark Knight had walked up to the Crystal wall, and transformed… Transformed into a Paladin, while the Dark Knight he had once been stared back at him in the mirror. Kain didn't know the entire story, but from what he had gleaned, he knew there had been some sort of battle. Was that what would happen here?

Readying his lance in both hands, the Dragoon strode to the mirror wall, warily watching his reflection seemingly approach him. When he was close enough to attack, he swung his spear about, striking the reflection. The reflection merely followed the same movement, and their attacks seemed to connect against each other. Kain's lance bounced harmlessly off the diamond-like wall.

"Only a mirror," he muttered. His head hung down, and he placed one hand on his helmeted forehead. He felt a fool. But at the same time, he felt cheated.

"Fight me!" he shouted at the mirror. "I'll prove myself! Prove everything! Prove that I can get rid of my own darkness! Prove that I'm not just a shadow! Prove that I'm bett—"

He stopped himself short, realizing he had taken his weapon in both hands once more and assumed a battle stance. Cold sweat fell down his cheeks, and he was panting. Looking more closely at the reflection, he realized there were now several small scratches in it. He'd done more than just assume a battle stance and shout at a mirror in his anger.

"Prove that you're better?" he muttered, bringing himself up short. "Better than what?"

"Why, Cecil of course."

Kain's head shot up, staring at his reflection. For a moment, a half second, he honestly expected that it had been his own image that had answered the question. After all, if Cecil's reflection had moved independently in this room, why not his own? But what he found shocked him even more.

The image in the mirror was not his own at all, but rather that of a black, shadowy figure, all garbed in armor. The details were fuzzed, blurred over, but something about it looked so hauntingly familiar…

"Who are you?" Kain demanded.

"Why, someone who understands you. Someone who understands that you will always be second best compared to the great and wonderful Cecil. But someone who has always dared dream to become something better. And dreams are all I have these days."

The voice, even though it didn't sound exactly the same, the noise being slightly distorted and echoing odd vibrations with it, was familiar.

"Golbez," the Dragoon said.

Golbez, the man who had been Zemus' chief underling. The man who had nearly ripped apart the world at another's bidding, bringing war and chaos, death and destruction. The man who was responsible for Tellah's death. The man who also happened to be Cecil's brother.

The figure bowed, and even as it did, stepped forward and outside of the mirror, emerging from the reflected wall and into the room itself.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping, alongside the rest of the Lunarians?"

Golbez chuckled, an emotionless sound with no real mirth behind it. "I am asleep. I'm not really here, just my… shade. I heard one of my servant's call, and so I came. I'm as surprised by your being here as you are of mine. Why are you here, Kain?"

"That's none of your concern."

The shadowy figure gave a gesture resembling a shrug, then stopped, pulling himself up short. "You're here for the Trial, aren't you? You follow in Cecil's footsteps. It's not for you. The Trial was never for anyone except Cecil. Not for you, and not for me. There is no redemption for us, save for what penance we give ourselves."

"I don't want redemption—" Kain started, but was interrupted by a sudden flash of light to the side. The Dragoon flung his hands up, protecting his eyes, even as what appeared to be a doorway of energy opened, and a man fell out. The light immediately faded, and even as Kain's eyes adjusted, Golbez was already knelt down and hovering over the prone form of a man with what appeared to be four arms.

"Gilgamesh!" Golbez hissed. "What has happened?"

Kain rushed to the fallen man's other side, and noticed a hastily bandaged wound around the man's chest. It was soaked in blood. Without aid, the Dragoon believed the newcomer wouldn't last long at all.

"Sephiroth…. Found a … hole… Lifestream… Farplane…"

Nodding, Golbez let out a sound resembling a deep sigh. "Rest, Gilgamesh. I understand. I will heal you."

Standing up, Golbez gestured for Kain to do the same. "Do you trust me?"

The Dragoon nearly laughed in the man's face. He hadn't the slightest idea of what was going on, but there was always one universal law, and that was never to trust a former, power-mad alien who was just as likely to blow up the world as look at you.

"No."

"Fah!" the Lunarian said disgustedly. "Forget the past. Focus on the present. I am about to give you a quick lesson in the way the universe works, Dragoon. Try to keep up. This is important."

Saying nothing, Kain allowed Golbez to continue. "The Lunarians are more than just the guardians of the elemental crystals of this world. My people are older than ancient, and our powers are beyond even my current comprehension. But in my slumber, I have learned a few things. And that is this: there is no world. Rather, there are worlds. Many worlds. Many universes. All separate, but all interconnected. They all have a few things in common, the reason for which still eludes my people. The important thing is this. These worlds are separate. They are their own places, and they are never, ever, allowed to touch onto each other. We used to safeguard them to ensure this would never happen, but now we sleep. In our stead, we have recruited guardians, great warriors from other realms, most lost or dying, like Gilgamesh… but they are obviously not perfect, if an error has already occurred. I can't tell you all now, but… blast it! If Sephiroth is on the loose…"

Before Kain could react, Golbez reached out, grabbing the lance from his hands. A dark energy misted out from the shadow's arms and flowed into the spear, until it glowed with a purple energy. The Dragoon snatched the weapon back, but whatever had been done had been done.

"What have you--?"

"I have temporarily imbued your lance with the power to hop dimensions. In Gilgamesh's absence, you must hunt Sephiroth down. Be warned, he is dangerous, and I can only assume it was due to Gilgamesh's arrogance that he was injured in this way. He should be back on his feet within the hour, but I need others for this. Do not confront Sephiroth alone. I have given you the names and locations of allies, people with fighting experience, and the… mindset that you have chosen for yourself. People who have committed past crimes tend to fight harder to redeem themselves."

"And if I don't want to perform this task?"

Golbez continued, ignoring Kain entirely, "You will find four allies with your lance. You can only teleport so many times, so use it wisely, and take no one with you that you don't have to. I will heal Gilgamesh, and as soon as he is ready, he will help you in this battle in his own way. When you arrive at your destination, think of your ally while holding your lance. It will do the rest."

"I have agreed to nothing!" Kain said.

Golbez made a dismissive gesture, and the Dragoon felt a pulse of energy fill his lance. The world began to blur, melting away. Even as he disappeared from the crystal cave, he heard the Lunarian say contemptuously, "Think of this as your Trial."

Everything turned white, and the Dragoon had the sensation of melting away like wax. He felt just a smear on the universe, a small drop of water that was being spread across a long surface.

And then it was over, and he stood in the midst of a forest, on top of a hill. He glanced about, holding up his weapon defensively, but saw no immediate enemies. The sun was just setting, as it was back home. Wherever he was didn't appear too differently from his own world. At least he was still alive.

And what will I do now? Kain thought bitterly. Am I on another world now? How far am I from home?

When he had climbed Mount Ordeals, he had expected a Trial. Instead, he had received an adventure, one he barely understood. All he knew was that someone or something named Sephiroth was a danger to everything, and it would have to be stopped. There was only one thing to do.

Kain held up his lance and concentrated, thinking of what an ally would look like. Immediately he pictured a tall, thin man, all garbed in black. His clothes were skin-tight, and in his hands were a pair of daggers. Tucked in a sash-like belt were a number of shuriken.

Shadow.

Kain didn't know where the thought came from, but without a doubt, he knew this ninja's name would be Shadow. He focused harder, and felt a strong pull-like sensation to the west.

Resting his lance on his shoulder, Kain walked into the sunset, heading west, towards his first challenge, his first test, his first ally.