The plot bunny strikes again!

I don't really know if it will be finished like this or if I should make a full-out story out of it. At the moment it's only an idea and I'd like some ideas on how to work with it.

There should be some typos and probably some words missing as I am pretty tired. The idea just struck me and I typed it up during the last hour or two.

Have fun reading. It's probably confusing as hell.

Lightning looked upon the battlefield with grief in her eyes. She stood alone, a wasteland at her feet. Broken bodies of comrades and friends littering the ground. She didn't know if she wanted to hysterically laugh or cry, weep and break.

A gust of wind ruffled her hair, playing with the pink tresses, pushing and pulling them all around her head. Blood was smeared across her face, clung to her clothes, dried on her hands.

Most of it belonged to enemies long dead. Some was still warm, when she had lifted Hope's smashed body to her breast, trying to keep him alive. It hadn't worked. The boy had died in her arms. Muttering a last 'Mom' into her neck.

She hadn't shed one tear for him, to exhausted to think rationally. But he was gone. Just like the rest of them. Snow had been the first to fall. He had braced himself against the flood of foes, grinning, telling them it would be a heroes death. They had killed him instantly. He hadn't lasted a minute.

Sazh was next. Shielding Dajh, he had emptied the magazines of his guns, shooting everyone that came near them. His son had gotten away alive, naught but a scratch on him. Lightning had cared for the boy, who was all of ten years old. She had treated his wounds, ruffling his hair, letting him cry into her shoulder.

He had pressed himself into her, clinging to the front of her shirt, shouting for his daddy to come back. Of course, Sazh never did. That had been the breaking point for Hope, who had stood tall, picking up a full body armour and his boomerang. He had looked at her with a steely gaze, not wavering as he told her he would go out. Lightning had only nodded, picked up her gunblade and followed him.

She should have gone first. Maybe then he wouldn't have been slaughtered. Maybe then he would still be alive.

She couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her. The carcasses still steaming in the cold of dawn, the blood still seeping into the ground, making it muddy and slippery to treat.

Lightning wished they had acted earlier. That they hadn't waited for something like this to happen.

Everyone knew would go down soon.

Every single one of them had seen the signs. The beasts going wild, the plants dying. The sickness that spread.

They had seen it, but hadn't done anything against it. Talking it down. Marking it as unimportant. Because they were ignorant. Because they thaught themselves better.

Because they hadn't learned.

Lightning stumbled, loosing her footing in a pond of half blood, half other fluids. She didn't want to think about it as she rightened herself again, tring to stand again. She huffed, exhaustion claiming her senses, making her wary, and cold and emotionless.

It had started weeks ago, really. When the first reports of hightened activity came in. Behemoth's starting to hunt in groups, Gorgonopsid's attacking without reason...

Nobody had looked to deep into it, thinking it was all but a phase. They still didn't know too much about the wilderness of Gran Pulse, about the seasons and how the wilds reacted to it. The only ones who could've helped them were still deeply slumbering in their fortress of crystall. Unreachable for the rest of the world.

Lightning had never thought that she would miss Fang and Vanille as much as now. She was sure that they would have known a way to stop all of this, to help them survive this madness. Whatever is was.

Pushing herself through another row of dead she shuddered.

Amodar. Scewered. Cleaved in half. Dead before he hit the ground.

She choked. What else could she do now. Who would she help by breaking down. Another horde of enemies would probably come soon and she was the last to defend New Bodhum. What was left of it.

Bile rose in her throat as she glanced at him again. She turned away, willing the gruesome image to vanish from her mind. It didn't. She vomitted onto the ground beside her.

A low sob threatened to escape her but she held it back. She couldn't start crying now. She couldn't.

But walking forward didn't sound any better. Lightning knew what she would find. Other faces. More people she knew or had met at least once before. Maqui, Yuj, Gadot, Lebreau. NORA delinquents. Friends. Brothers and sisters in arms. Comrades.

Sniffing a bit more she dragged her hand across her face, rubbing the bridge of her nose. A headache had formed hours ago, but she chose to ignore it. Now it was pounding more furiously than ever.

Breathing in and out a few more times she started to move again. Weaving in between rows and rows of dead, stepping over dunes of ashes.

Cie'th.

They didn't leave bodies, so you would never find any of them here.

Lightning had no idea where they had come from. Maybe Pulse was turning against them in the whole of its being. The planet acting against the intruders from Cocoon. Maybe it was the lingering rage of Cocoon's Fal'Cie, haunting them even down here on Gran Pulse.

If she was truthful, then she had to say, that she didn't want to know. Whatever had happened was bad. That was all that mattered.

How much she wished to be a L'Cie again. Magic and phoenix feathers and more magic and some of them would be alive once more. But fate was against her these days. Serah had fallen ill early on. She was one of the first to cough up her own lung, spitting blood and tissue, shaking from feaver.

Lightning hadn't left the side of her bed, Snow on the other. Both had been there when Serah had fallen into a dreamless slumber. Not dead yet but neither alive. Lightning dreaded the hour when Serah would wake up. She would have to tell her sister that Snow was dead. And Sazh and Hope and most of New Bodhum. That they were the last of the group to survive and that Dajh would live with them from now on.

But more than that she hated the thought of Serah waking up after she had fallen at the hands of enemies. She didn't want her sister to be alone. Not after everything. Lightning would rather cry over Serah's cooling carcass than die with her sister being left behind. Left alone in this world of darkness and infinity.

She stopped once more, the rising sun to her left. Her eyes fell upon the cristallized shell of Cocoon, the pillar that held it up in the air.

Her thoughts returned to the days that she had spend travelling with the wayward group of L'Cie. How they had fought for their lives. The stories that were shared around the campfire at night. The days spend walking through the green of Gran Pulse. How Lightning loved those memories. But she also knew that she had to stop daydreaming. It would just get her killed earlier.

Trying to focus on the world around her, she noticed the wailing. The wind carried voices, cries, yells, shouts. A language she recognized but couldn't understand. It gave her the feeling that she didn't belong.

Standing in the middle of a battlefield, surrounded by broken friends, and the bodies of beasts, Lightning Farron started to halluzinate. Saw ghosts of past people walk around her, tend to themselves.

And then she understood.

There had been fighting here before.

Fang had told her in endless tales of old. How mighty warriors of Gran Pulse had fought the Vipers of Cocoon on just this field. How it had been drenched by blood before. The reason the sand was red if you just dug deep enough.

It all came to her in just a moment. The sadness, the grief, anger, hate, restlessness. So much had happened here. Ghosts from the past calling out to her. Why? She had not the slightest idea. Didn't know how to answer their cries.

But all in all it was like a gate to the past. She could see how everything had happened. How fighters from both sides fell in battle. How much blood was spilled in the War of Transgression.

It was all the Fal'cies fault. That much she was sure of.

Her eyes drifted to the cristall pillar in the distance once again.

'What do you want to tell me? What am I supposed to do?'

No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, the voice around her distracted her, got louder, shriller, just..more.

Lightning closed her eyes. She didn't want to see them, didn't want to watch anyone die again. She forced her body to move away from the battlefield. Where to? Just away.

And then the rain started to fall.

It drenched her from head to toe, washed off all the blood, plastered her hair to her face, made the ground even more slippery than it was before. If that was even possible.

Her gunblade felt heavy against her upper thighs, bumping against them with every step. She didn't find the time to clean it yet, so she ought to do it soon, lest she find it rusted in no time. It had to be functional if she wanted to survive. Keep it in shape.

Her long strides began to grow shorter and shorter until she all but stumbled and swayed on her feet, nearly falling over a loose rock on the ground.

Her breathing was shallow and a cough came from time to time.

Lightning was dead on her feet. But she continued onward.

The colours of the world around her began to swirl and move. Forms began to shift and mix and everything around her seemed just so alive. Shadows danced around her feet. Dust began to pick up.

She had to be dreaming. Or she had a concussion. Maybe both.

When most of the blood had cleared off she noticed the wounds on her arm, on her shoulder. It was strange that she didn't feel any pain, but she guessed that the adrenalin still hadn't worn off.

It was a weird experience. She winced, imagining the sting that would come sooner or later, the pain that would ripple through her. Her left arm seemed strangely detached as she couldn't feel it.

Most people would start to treat the wounds but Lightning knew better. She didn't have any clean bandages on her, nor a first aid kit. Using her own clothes would only get dirt in the wounds and infect them sooner or later.

She rubbed the palm of her right hand across her temple. The headache didn't retreat.

She only looked up again after nearly slamming into a tree. Lightning couldn't focus on her environments.

She was anxious, but she didn't know why.

'What is happening here?'

No answer.

She pulled her gunblade from its sheath, hefting it across her shoulder, hoping that this would intimitade anyone who dared to come close enough.

It clanged when it made contact with her metal shoulder pauldron, scratching across its surface.

'Fang, Vanille. Where are you, when people need you?'

Everything seemed to grow unnaturally silent, even though she hadn't been aware of any noises around her before.

The air grew cold, a frosty wind sweeping over the land. There was no warmth, even though the sun had risen.

She was just a few feet away from the pillar now, tracking the way with the last of her energy.

'My last stand shall be at their feet.'

Lightning stood proud, her back straight, her feet spread shoulderwide. The gunblade rested in her hand, her grip on it was strong. Her knees didn't buckle as she thought they would, her shoulder didn't slump. She clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes.

The soldier in her whispered to her, battle instincts starting to whizz and she just brought up her blade as a Cie'ths fist crashed into it, making her skid back a few paces.

He blocked the heavy assault, dancing around it, slicing and stabbing and making her enemy go down to its knees. The Cie'th cried before bursting into ashes, being carried off in the wind.

She knew it wasn't the last and the others soon arrived. Beast were there to, Behemoth's growling and swiping at her, jagged teeth sinking into her shoulder, ripping at her flesh. She ignored the pain and killed the monster and then the next and the next and the next.

She didn't stop, she moved in between the foes and let them beat at each other, trying to get at her. They tore at her clothes, but she just rammed her shoulder into the Cie'th nearest to her, making it stagger and fall on top of another. Lightning cleanly cut its head off, throwing herself at the one standing next to her.

The rain hadn't ceased but she was bloodied all over again, and this time it was her own blood washed of from her body.

Her tears mingled with the dripping sweat from her brow. With blood from the gash on her forehead.

Enemies upon enemies fell but Lightning stood. She wouldn't fall tonight. Not after all of this fighting.

When the last of the beasts was laying in a broken heap in front of her she sank to her knees, fighting and struggling for breath. Her muscles screamed and ached. Her bones hurt and still rattled from the blows. The deep wounds on shoulder and arms throbbed.

She was pale and looked worse for wear but she was glad to be alive.

'For Serah.'

She turned her gaze to the cristalline construct behind her.

'For Vanille. For Fang. Should they wake up.'

A smile took over her face, just as hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

'I'm alive.'

She didn't sob, she didn't cry out loud. They were silent tears. A prayer to those that lost their lives.

She leaned her head against the pillar behind her. She needed rest. Desperately.

Her conciousness slipped away, before she could even think about sleep.

And in her dreams, a woman appeared before her, tall and regal in dark black robes. Her outlines fuzzy and hazy and Lightning didn't know if that lady was meant to look like this or not.

'Seeker.'

Her voice was smooth like marble but still had an edge to it.

Lightning didn't remember standing up, but she bowed after the woman had spoken.

'Mylady.'

'Claire Farron. Speak of what you seek.'

'I ain't seeking anything, Mylady.' Lightning said, throat parched, and voice rough and breathing ragged.

The woman came closer but she still couldn't make out any details about her.

'Think. Then speak.'

An angry note had entered the woman's speech. Lightning narrowed her eyes a bit. Thought about the ladys request.

'I'm seeking peace, Mylady. Not for myself, but for those that I love.'

'Truly spoken.' She smiled, Lightning could hear it.

A hand extended towards her, but she didn't immediately grasp it.

'Peace always comes at a price, young human. And your war has started centuries ago. Long before you were born.'

'I know.'

'How do you intend to stop a war that is raging between the gods, young human? Between the Fal'Cie and their maker.'

Lightning bristled. 'I will find a way, Mylady.' She said.

The woman turned around, walking towards, what looked like an ancient throne.

'I am willing to help you, Claire Farron.'

Lightning straightened her back, followed her. 'Why?'

The lady looked at her over her shoulder, gesturing all around her.

'Everyone deserves a chance to live at their fullest.' Falling into the seat, she crossed her legs, the dress she wore loosing its colour and turning stark white.

'And you, Seeker, never had this chance to begin with. Caring for your sister. Fighting to bring her back from crystal slumber. Don't you think it's time that you finally do something just for yourself, Claire?'

Lightning frowned and bit her cheek. She didn't want to yell at the woman.

The lady moved a bit forard in her seat, sitting on the out edge of it and Lightning had the feeling she was staring straight into her soul.

'You are brave, talented, clever. You are not to underestimate. You never hestitate. A noble soldier indeed.' She spoke, more to herself that to the human in front of her.

'If I was to give you a second chance, Seeker, what would you do with it?'

'A second chance at what, Mylady?'

A smile spilled over the woman's face, threatening to split it in half. 'At life, silly.'

'I don't think I would do anything differently, Mylady. I am where I am today because of my choices, my failures and my mistakes. I wouldn't have met the people I met, wouldn't have made friends, wouldn't be who I am.'

She clenched her fist, a growing feeling of uneasyness enveloping her, spilling over her like a cool tidal wave.

'Good answer, human.'

The throne room vanished in front of her eyes and they were standing on the beaches of Bodhum, up on Cocoon before it was crystallized. The waves didn't crash against the shore, instead the water softly spilled onto the sand.

A soft breeze was surrounding them, playing with Lightning's hair and throwing it from one side to another.

Determined, she looked up to the woman, squaring her shoulders.

'I wouldn't do anything differently. So there's no point in a second chance. Give it to someone who really needs it.'

'But I have already chosen, Claire.'

Lightning scoffed, watching the movement of the water.

'Seriously. You're wasting your energy. Let me go.'

A chuckle reached her ears and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

'Oh. I guess I will.'

She swivelled around so fast it was a wonder nothing was broken. 'What?'

'Go.' The woman pointed to a gateway that had appeared right beside them. It was made completely out of light, glowing omniously. 'Go back to your life, Claire.'

She vanished in a gust of wind, leaving Lightning to her thoughts. She glanced at the golden arch, eyeing it for anything suspicious. Nothing happened.

She didn't know how long she stood there for. She didn't care.

'I need to get back to Serah.' She muttered.

And so Lightning grabbed her gunblade tighter, her shoulder throbbing with every move, her knees week under the weight of her body and exhausting finally claiming her, as she fell head first into the gateway.

'Wake up, Claire! You're going to be late for school!'

Only then did she register that the woman had wished for 'Claire' to go back to life. In the past, there was no Lightning.

'Claire' just got a second chance at life. A second chance she had never wanted for herself.

'Maybe, just maybe.' She thought. 'This will also be their second chance.'

Please review to let me know what you're thinking about it.

Regards

Taka.