A lone figure stood upon the top of the new Shinra building. Wing stretched forth dark as night. His face twisted as he watched the figures below move through the twilight hours of the day. Not one looking up at him.

He had given this world to them. Each and every soul alive today was here because of him. Did that matter to these insects when the dust had settled? No. He was the last of his kind, the last threat to humanity.

They had punished him, for being cursed with the strength to save them. It had been slow at first insidious, It was for everyone's best interest right if he moved away? There was nothing wrong with him, no but it put everyone else's mind at easy.

No one wanted a monster around when the dust had settled. They didn't want to be reminded of the war that had torn the world apart.

They others, save Vincent had been able to integrate back into society. None of them had mako eyes. For his part the gunman had just gone back to sleep. It had been the simple answer when the world had cast him aside.

That however wasn't Cloud's answer.

As time wore on, everyone else had moved on. The visits stopped and so did the calls.

He hadn't even found out Tifa was married had two children of her own until he had ventured into the city desperate for some kind of human contact.

She had a forced smile on her face, but it was obvious he reminded her of things she wished to forget, and so again he had retreated.

It was the same with all of them. They had all moved on, casting off the one person who had given them this life. Each thinking it would be someone else to keep him company, to make sure he was taken care of. He had always been closed off before hadn't he? Wasn't this what he wanted?

Expect for perhaps Nanaki, he always had kind words for Cloud, but when the great beast had discover he wasn't the last of his kind after all, he had retreated on his own. He wasn't human after all, no matter how much humanity had been thrust on him he was still a member of the tribe of Gi and had his own concerns to take care of.

In time, the name of Cloud Strife had been forgotten. The world was repairing itself. With the mako reactors gone the once barren planes had turned green. Even Midgar seemed to give birth to new life.

All the while one man lived each day stuck in time. Trapped with the nightmares, of a ghost that haunted him. The price the world had paid for peace.

When the 30th anniversary of Meteor had passed, people were telling their children stories fondly of what had transpired. The story of the rag tag group of fighters who save the world had changed over time as all things do, before eventually passing into legend. The world's savior had faded into the background and those that knew the truth of the matter were content not to correct the children on the street. It was better this way right? Peace was more important than the truth.

No one wanted to remember that their peace was bought by a broken hero.

No one was there when the savior finally fell from grace.

If someone had stopped to think long enough about what was transpiring they might have realized their error.

Only so many times can a man be called a monster before he starts to believe.

It started much the same way Nibelheim had, only this time the fire was hot enough to melt steal and scorch stone.

His childhood friend, hair turning grey, clutched her granddaughter in her arms. "Why?" Was all the woman could say as tears fell from her eyes.

"Isn't this what monsters do?" He said in a cold dead tone.

She never got a chance to respond.

This world was his, not Sephiroth's, not Jenova's, and not Shinra's. He had paid for it in blood and Cloud Strife was coming to collect.

So yeah I was apparently in another one of those moods. I was talking to a friend about what it would take for Cloud to snap with out Jenova's influence and this was born of that.