Author's note: This is probably the best ending I've ever seen to a video game, namely for how horrible it was. The player's not normally tortured into seeing their main protagonist die. :P Once the truth finally sank in that Zack really did die, I knew I just had to write this scene. There's probably another hundred of them like it, but, well, y'know. It was fun.

I love reviews, and if I discover I made the reader of this cry it would make my day even more excellent! *triumphant grin*. Nah, just kidding; I don't generally like to upset people. Honest.

Disclaimer: If you read my author's note above, then it should be as plain as day that I don't own Final Fantasy VII. If I did, the scene below would simply not exist. How about that?

Rain came down in sheets upon the rocky plain, which stretched for as far as the eye could meet. The clouds above had clustered, forming a dark mass to cover the late afternoon sky. Apart from the pattering of rain droplets hitting the arid rocks, no sound could be heard from miles away.

The air was thick with gunpowder. One would've thought two massive armies clashed among the vast plain, with the exception that few bodies were left behind. A stray helmet lay about, its visor cracked, along with stray bullets and the occasional stray sword. Only a handful of bodies remained on the battlefield, but that was because their fellow recruits had already collected the others. Everything remained still. Not even the slightest wind could be traced. All surrounding objects were dead. All, but one.

The dark-haired young man lay forgotten upon the cliff, his back resting unevenly. He idly watched the raindrops fall from the sky. Some spattered the ground around him, while others clanged against the enormous sword clenched tightly in his hand. As still as he remained, one could've mistaken the man for dead. Perhaps that reason alone was why he still lived.

Even the slightest inhale caused him to cringe. With every motion came severe pain. Shinra's army of infantryman hadn't left until their work was done, that much was certain. When the dark-haired man had come to meet his ambush, he'd expected a rough fight, only he never imagined it'd take so long to die. All his friends had perished much quicker. It'd been nearly an hour, and still he continued to teeter on the very verge of death.

His clothes were drenched in a mixture of rain, sweat and blood. Clusters of hair had been starched together by the crimson substance protruding from a deep gash on his scalp. The wound flowed freely, proceeding to run down his temple and bead at his chin. Not a square inch of his torso was free from a bullet's intrusion, resulting in his uniform being a tattered mess of what it once was.

Inhaling and exhaling; it was all the man could do, waiting for his impending end to come.

Sounds other than rain aroused the man's attention from his suffering. Boots scuffed against rock, and instantly he realized he was no longer alone. The thought of anyone doing more to him was not a fear, but instead a longing. It wasn't until moments later when no other injury came that he discovered his visitor meant him no harm. Vision blurred, he lowered his chin to his chest in an attempt to make out the newcomer. Blond spikes protruded from the figure's head, his body dark from both clothing and mud. The figure continued to drag itself along the rocks before finally coming to a halt alongside the dying man. A wave of relief washed over him. Cloud; he couldn't have been happier to see him.

The blond, Cloud, was in better condition than that of the dark-haired man, but not much better off. After receiving an overdose of Mako energy, the teen infantryman hadn't been able to utter as much as a single word. His body trembled as he brought himself to sitting, swaying so ferociously that it wouldn't have been a surprise if he fell over. Even though his thoughts and memories were a cluster of confused fragments, one look at the pool of blood underneath his friend told him all he needed to know.

Both men's breaths rattled in their chests, their Mako eyes meeting for the first in a long time. The single word formed upon Cloud's lips before he found the voice to utter it. When it came out it was soft and muffled.

"Zack..."

Upon hearing his name, the dark-haired man shifted to face Cloud fully. The motion made him grimace.

Cloud's blue eyes concentrated on the edges of Zack's face. It took every bit of his mental energy to grasp the severity of the situation. Rain relentlessly poured down over the two, streaming between the blond's parted locks onto his somber face. Somehow, despite the dark-haired man's fatal injuries, he managed to conjure a smile. However, it was but a shadow of his ordinary one.

"For the...both of us..." said Zack, his voice faint but clear.

Cloud blinked, confusion clouding his thoughts. "Both—of us?"

Rain continued to pelt down on the two, perhaps even harder than it had upon Cloud's arrival.

"That's right..." Zack proceeded, pain biting the edge of his tone. "You're gonna..."

"You're gonna..."

With a great deal of effort, Zack raised his left arm, his gloved fingers extending towards Cloud. The blond watched with a vacant expression, his mind too numb from the Mako addiction and emotions of the surreal event. Finally Zack managed to grope his fingers behind Cloud's head. Being off balance already, Cloud merely fell forward with the motion of Zack's arm. His face hit the soaked remnants of his SOLDIER uniform.

"...Live."

The words made little sense to him, but Cloud understood the urgency of them. He knew they would be Zack's final, and was determined to cling onto every one of them.

For moments the two remained in this position. Zack's gaze was fixated onto the moistened clouds, his hand still resting on the back of Cloud's head. The blood from his chest began to cause the blond's cheek to tingle, yet he didn't make a motion to break away from his friend.

"You'll be..." continued the dark-haired man, stopping to take in several shallow breaths, "my living legacy."

With that he withdrew his hand, dropping it into the puddle of mud, rain and blood beside him. It took a moment for Cloud to withdraw his head. Once he did, his movements were slow and fluid. Zack's blood had stained his cheek, but the young infantryman took no notice to this. His eyes hadn't moved from Zack, whose color rapidly drained from his face.

Zack turned to face his right arm, Cloud's gaze following shortly thereafter. The Buster Sword, the final gift his dear mentor and friend bestowed upon him, remained tightly clenched in his hand. Zack's gaze lingered on it momentarily, memories of Angeal flashing through his mind.

"My honor, my dreams..." Zack slowly brought the hilt of the massive sword in front of him, extending it towards Cloud with a firm nod. "They're yours now."

They're yours now. The words rang through Cloud's head several times before he deciphered what the outstretched handle meant. He was to take Zack's weapon as his own, along with his dreams and honor. Cloud's brow pinched into deep concentration, accepting the Buster Sword with two trembling hands. His grip around the hilt tightened; it was still warm.

Zack's fingers eased around his treasured weapon. He brought them to touch Cloud's hand, but the blond pulled away, allowing his hand to instead fall to the ground. Cloud couldn't understand. Zack had given him the sword, so why was it that he tried to take it back? Was he supposed to let him?

All the while, his eyes did not move from Zack. His throat tightened painfully.

"I'm your...living legacy."

These words brought ease to the dying youth. The gentle smile upon his lips lingered. His eyelids grew suddenly heavy. Breaths that came in short and rasp slowed, while his heart that had no blood left to pump halted. For moments nothing happened. Everything remained still. Including Cloud, who watched the scene as though behind a curtain; as if none of it were truly happening. When no other excuses could be made, the truth finally sank in: Zack was gone—never would he speak or joke again.

Cloud gasped, and gasped again. He tried to swallow, but found that his throat was too tight to permit it. He rose his head to the sky, raindrops pelting him on the face. His eyes searched, but they found nothing to comfort him.

A loud cry sounded through the air. It was emitted from the teen, yet even still it surprised him. Memories of Zack fled through his mind. The day they met, jokes they exchanged, the traveling they'd done over the past few weeks. Everything. It was painful to acknowledge that the kind SOLDIER wouldn't be there to be his only friend within Shinra. But wait—was he really with Shinra?

The ominous clouds began to part, allowing a ray of sunlight to glisten upon Cloud and his fallen friend. A pleasant look remained on Zack's face, his lips still curved into a smile. The rain had ceased falling. The puddles no longer expanded. Moisture began to be absorbed by the thirsty ground beneath them, the rest being dried by the gleaming sun.

Embrace your dreams. If you want to be a hero, you need to have dreams.

The words were not spoken, but instead sounding from inside Cloud's mind. Whether his Mako addiction projected this voice, or it were mere exhaustion from his friend's death, or both, was unknown. Perhaps these words were coming from his friend directly, wherever he was. Regardless, Cloud clung onto them as though they were law. It was all he had left.

The blond nodded swiftly, his gaze fixated on Zack's pallid face.

"Thank you... I won't forget."

The longer he sat there, the better he felt. His mind began to clear, and suddenly he felt strength in his legs that hadn't been there previously. Slowly Cloud rose, his hands still gripping the weapon Zack gave him in his final breaths. His eyes watered. Tears threatened to escape him, but he wouldn't let them. Not anymore.

"Good night," Cloud muttered, in a tone barely more than a whisper. "...Zack."

He turned around, facing his friend's goal: Midgar, the enormous city under the dominance of the Shinra Electric Power Company. Never did he think they would turn into his enemy but, after the monstrosities they'd committed, it was impossible for them not to.

The Buster Sword left an imprint where it trailed along the dampened ground. Cloud slowly led it, both hands grasping the hilt firmly. While his strength did return, he found it to be slowly waning.

If you see Aerith, take of her for me.

Aerith? Cloud wasn't sure who she was, but thought she must be important to him. He decided that he would indeed protect her, should he find her.

Hey... Would you say I became a hero?