And here is the first chapter. I was planning on writing in first person, but I decided that third person would be a little more convenient. Its makes switching back and forth between characters so much easier.

Sorry if this chapter is too boring and or short. Anyway, here is the first chapter…

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Final Fantasy franchise; nor do I own any of the quotes that appear at the beginning of each chapter.

CLAIMER: I own any and all OCs and plot twists.

Please enjoy, no flames, however I will accept constructive criticism.

Chapter 1: Introduction

"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,

The goddess descends from the sky."

Prologue, from LOVELESS of Final Fantasy VII.

Grey clouds rolled across the once azure blue sky. Gorgeous bright green fields melted into dust. Dried shrub sprouted from the seemingly lifeless soil. Placed in the center of the desert was a gigantic metal fortress. All one could see were bright lime-green lights and a giant, almost ominous building looming over the desert.

In the eyes of an outsider, it would appear that the large city was placed on top of a giant metal platform. However, this was not true. For, beneath the visible city, existed the rotting slums.

Both the slums and the top plate of the city were split into eight different sectors by tall metal walls. The top city was managed with as much care as possible. Tall buildings whose electricity was powered by the mako produced by the eight different reactors that had been built in all eight sectors loomed over concrete paved streets. The latest models in terms of vehicles zipped back and forth on the roads.

If one took a gander at a map of the city, they would see that each and every plate was held up with one pillar that protruded from the dirty ground in the slums. Should something happen to one of the pillars, those living on and beneath that particular plate would suffer greatly, if only for a moment.

So, it was not hard to deduce that the plates were not connected; and that traversing from one to the other is possible simply because the alignment needed to do so is set perfectly.

Those who possessed a healthy budget lived here. Nearly every single person living on the top plate was involved with the world's top company. However, there were those who choose to start their own business or to join a different business for one reason or another.

If certain citizens are considered unfit to live on the top plate, then they are usually evicted from their home and moved to the slums.

Or they may wander the streets without a home, searching for a way to recover their lost wealth. But it was not difficult to evade bankruptcy as long as one stayed on their toes.

Pedestrians clad in some of the latest clothing styles wandered the concrete paved sidewalks; attending to whatever called for their attention.

Concrete roads were not all that had been laid out; there were trains tracks lining the ground as well. A shrill scream echoed from the Sector Eight plate. A large metal train ran along the tracks; the engine thundered as it made its way through the city. It continued onward, eventually leaving the portion of the city reserved for civilians.

It made its way into the ShinRa Electric Company's campus. Said building was the tallest in the entire city; on the front of the door to the main lobby was the bright red and white ShinRa logo. Smaller buildings had been made, each serving its own purpose. Some of which had been designated as barracks for the company's army.

Metal structures loomed above the train as it made its way to the appointed destination. A noise that could never hope to rival the train in volume appeared overhead.

Upon further inspection, anyone looking up from within the train at that very moment would have seen a black helicopter. The crimson and white ShinRa logo was painted on the door, which was open at the moment.

Kneeling near the opening of the aircraft was a seventeen-year-old human male. Messy and spikey ebony colored tresses protruded from his scalp; his bangs hung downwards, but were parted and were short enough so that it was easy to see his face. The boy's face was slender yet it held its own boyish charm. Excitable, vibrant sky-blue eyes with a hint of lime-green gazed at the train below. His skin was neither pale nor tanned; it was in the middle. His body was slim yet muscular; it was obvious that he spent some time in the gym.

The teenager wore a sleeveless, dark purple turtle-necked sweater to cover his torso. A pair of dark grey, leather pauldrons that were slightly battered protected his shoulders. Leather, dark chocolate brown gloves kept his hands clean during battle. A pair of dark brown leather suspenders stretched from a set of black leather straps that coiled around his stomach and waist. Dark purple, cloth pants billowed around his legs. He wore a pair of black, leather combat boots as his footwear. Last, strapped to his back was a one-handed sword.

The raven-haired teen zeroed in on the scratchy voice echoing from the cockpit. He would need all of the information he could get to complete the mission.

"Wutai troops have hijacked ShinRa Express ," a male voice reported over the intercom, "The train is currently headed to Midgar Sector Eight. A SOLDIER operative will be inserted to neutralize the situation."

"We are to proceed as scheduled," there was a short pause, "Commence mission in: three…two…one…"

The teenager's heartbeat quickened as the next few words echoed against his eardrums. "…mark. Begin mission."

The voice that seemed to clear added. "Operative is ready for insertion."

"The train has been overrun by Wutai troops," a deep, even male voice said from behind the raven-haired boy, "Eliminate them and regain control of the train."

The boy looked back into the craft and at his superior. A man who appeared to be around the age of twenty-five was sitting on one of the cushions seats. His medium length black hair was slicked back; a small goatee decorated his chin. His facial structure was hard; a serious look lingered in his bright blue-green eyes. His outfit was the same the young teens'; however, the parts that were purple were a dark blueish-gray. He was a burly man; his appearance was very intimidating compared to his subordinates'. Hanging on his back was a long broadsword.

The raven-haired teenager flashed a lighthearted smile at his superior while gesturing to his forehead with two fingers; it appeared to be a quick salute. "Oh yeah!"

With that intelligent piece of dialogue out, the slim seventeen-year-old leapt out of the doorway, missing the older male warning. "Get serious!"

The wind whistled around the teen clad in purple as he made a nosedive for the train. He landed hard on the metal surface, with his knees bent and one hand pressed against the cold roof of the moving vehicle. Luck was on his side; for had he been a few seconds later, he would have smacked hard into the roof of a tunnel.

The boy rose to his feet, eyes carefully scanning the surrounding area. "Zack!" He turned just in time to see his superior appear behind him.

The lights generated by the helicopter blinded Zack momentarily. "Listen Zack," the older male said, "I need you to focus," the younger frowned at him. Why could the man never trust him? He always took his job seriously; it just did not appear that way.

But he continued despite the frown on his students' face, "There are no ShinRa troops on this train. Understood?"

He answered with a quick nod before turning away. The boy paused to smack one fist into the other; a traditional ShinRa salute. His superior crossed his arms over his chest, watching as the young male sprinted along the roof of the train.

Zack leapt onto the next car and quickly made short work of the distance before being forced to leap onto the next car. He came to an abrupt halt when bullets pelted and ricocheted off of the metal below him. The raven-haired male did a little jig to avoid being injured by said pieces of now dented lead.

He lost balance, resulting in him falling downwards; Zack threw his arms out to keep from smacking his face against the hard metal surface below.

The boy just barley managed to move his left hand before a final bullet could impale it. Zack's eyes narrowed at the spot where the bullet had struck, "Hello to you, too." He muttered sarcastically.

Rising to his feet, the seventeen-year-old continued with his mission. More bullets rained down on him. Now prepared for them, he avoided the hot pieces of lead like a trained professional.

Zack leapt onto the next car and continued on his way. That was when movement up ahead caught his attention.

Zeroing in on the cause, Zack caught sight of a small handful of men wearing ShinRa uniforms. Strange. He thought as he reached back and grabbed the hilt of his sword.

"Come and get it!" he challenged as he drew the blade. They opened fire as soon as he was within a certain distance. Using the strong metal of the blade, the young man deflected each and every bullet that was sent his way.

Once he was close enough, Zack slashed into their bodies; oddly enough, not a single drop of blood escaped them as they were thrown off of the train.

But there was no time to dwell on that particular oddity; there were more soldiers up ahead. Zack evaded their onslaught of bullets and slashed through the next brigade. He expertly leapt over a small handful and brought his blade upon another as he landed behind them, killing at least one more.

He slashed his way through the remaining two; now the path was clear. Or not. He quickly took note of the fact that there were more. Not only were their numbers in increasing, but the young man noticed the three in front were carrying high caliber missile launchers.

Damn! Zack glanced around at his surroundings, desperately searching for a way out. That was when he noticed the winding metal catwalk up above. Grinning, the teenager prepared the muscles in his lower body. Within seconds, he launched himself in the air, narrowly avoiding the high powered missiles.

They flew onwards until connecting with the other soldiers, killing them in a fire cyclone. The starving flames desired more; they poured along the roof of the train, finishing off the remainder of the soldiers.

A small shack on a bridge came up. Zack did a flip as he burst through it, landing on the small flooring of the train that connected one car to another. "SOLDIER Second Class Zack," he impaled the lock, breaking it, "on the job!"

Before the other car could get too far away, he leapt onto the roof, proudly sheathing his sword as he turned away from the fiery carnage that he had managed to leave behind.

The helicopter was still hovering overhead. On the intercom that allowed one to hear what was being said, came that scratchy male voice. "Train re-routed to Sector One Station near Mako Reactor One," there was a short pause, "Proceed to mission phase two and change surveillance rank."

The train slowed to a screeching halt as it reached port. Darkened buildings surrounded it. A concrete sidewalk would allow people to walk around safely would having to come too close to the train tracks. Lights allowed them to see their surroundings; but just barely.

Zack did a front flip off of the roof of the head of the train, landing perfectly on the paved walkway. He wore a wide and cocky grin as he rose to his feet and strode away from the train.

He paused a moment to look around. So far so good. A ring sounded from below; the boy reached into his pocket and removed his PHS, which resembled a black and silver cellphone. "Zack here."

"Making progress, Zack?" his superior asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

The curious young man decided to get straight to the point. He placed one hand on his hip as he spoke, "What's going on Angeal?" Something had been bothering him since he laid eyes on the troops. Although he was sure that it was an illusion, he still needed to ask. "Why're we fighting ShinRa troops?"

Oh how Angeal adored the boy's naivety; or stupidity, but the former was a nicer way of putting it. He should have known what was going on; but he answered the boy nonetheless, "They're Wutai troops in disguise," he then continued with the instructions that he would need, "Now, head to the open area above."

"Towards Sector Eight, right?" Zack looked in the direction that his superior spoke of; it was towards the left, near an area that was protected by metal railing. It was several feet off of the ground. The walls appeared to be made of stone.

"Yes, but first you'll need to clear a path."

One of his eyebrows rose, "Clear a path?" He looked away from the door. "Its looks fine to me."

"You'll see what I mean," there was a slight pause, "be careful."

At that moment, bullets caught Zack's attention. Lucky for him, their aim was atrocious, giving him plenty of time to converse with his mentor. "So I can cut loose?"

"Use some discretion."

With that warning being said, Zack hung up and dropped his PHS into his pocket. A light grin spread across his face as he unsheathed his sword. "Its showtime!"

He deftly avoided the bullets and quickly sliced through the troops as though they were nothing; once again, not a single drop of blood escaped them.

The bodies dropped to the ground and he sheathed his sword. The PHS rung again and Zack answered it. "Not too bad."

"Heh, at this rate, I'll be making First Class in no time." His voice brimmed with confidence.

"Don't get too cocky," Angeal continued on with the important information, "Go up the stairs at the end of the platform."

"You got it." Zack obeyed his mentor's words and slowly made his way towards the stairs.

He paused to hang up before bursting into a full run and diving into the small stone corridor that awaited him towards the left. Zack made a right turn and came out on the platform Angeal spoke of. He walked around the wall until he could see the train, which was stationary at the moment.

The teenager was expecting another call from Angeal when he metal a piece of cold metal tap his left earlobe.

Holding up his hands, Zack chose to surrender rather than to be made into sushi. "Showing your back to the enemy," a cold yet calm male voice said from behind, "Overconfidence will be your downfall."

Zack heaved as a sigh as he turned to face the attacker. He was shocked to see who it was. Standing between him and a katana that appeared to be seven feet long was a twenty-five-year-old man. Long, silky silver tresses cascaded down his back; the bangs were cut shorter then the rest of his hair, although they were long enough to rest behind his ears. Green irises with slitted cat-like pupils gazed back at Zack. His skin was quite pale.

The man's muscular chest, stomach being covered only by a black leather belt, would have been exposed had it not been for a long black leather coat. It was left open, allowing some of his chest to be seen; near the middle the silver buttons were clasped together, only to be set free from there on. Large silver pauldrons protected his shoulders. Long leather sleeves rimmed with silver coved his arms. A pair of matching gloves kept his hands from receiving damage.

A pair of leather black pants covered his legs and last but no least, he wore a pair of black leather boots that went a few inches passed his knees.

"W-wha-wha," Zack spluttered, finding it hard to form a coherent sentence. He could not believe his eyes. "What is this?"

The silver-haired man attempted to impale his chest. Zack avoided it and quickly unsheathed his sword, clashing blades with him. The pair exchanged blows, creating silver and gold sparks as they did so.

Zack held up his sword to parry another attack; the other man tried to press his blade onto him, but he held it off.

"Dammit…" he growled, "…you're not the only hero!"

"Its over." The man's voice held no accordance to what Zack had just said. That confused him a little, but he was more preoccupied with the fact that he was about to be sliced in two.

Just as Zack was beginning to build up more strength, the man threw him away, breaking his sword in half while doing so.

Zack landed hard on the ground, the butt of his sword landing a few feet away. The man slowly approached him, coming to a stop nearby. Holding his sword up, he prepared to impale young Zack.

But it never transpired. Opening his eyes, Zack found his broken blade being used to stave off the oversized katana. Looking to his right, he found Angeal kneeling at his side. The silver-haired man pulled away, allowing the other to ease up a little.

Zack sat up, sighing, "Thanks Angeal."

Rising to his feet, he shot the other male a hard look before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his PHS. The silver-haired man wore a far off look. Angeal clicked around on the bright blue screen before choosing 'abort mission'. As soon as he closed the PHS and put it in his pocket, the surrounding area dissolved as though it had been made up of polygons.

The man disappeared in a similar manner. "Trainings over."

This surprised young Zack, who quickly got to his feet. "Wha-why?" On his face, he was wearing a strange black head mounted device. Angeal held his broken blade out to him. Zack removed the headgear, "But I was just getting warmed up!"

He flipped the blade over so that he was holding hilt out to him. Giving in, the seventeen-year-old took his broken sword back. He heaved an irritated sigh, "You killed it."

"Actually you did that," Angeal replied as he walked around the raven-haired male. They were both standing in a darkened metal room.

Beyond that was a brightly lit hallway. "Zack," the boy kept his eyes on his mentor, "Embrace your dreams."

"Huh?" he cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy.

"If you want to be a hero you need to have dreams," Angeal came to a stop near the doorway, "and honor."

"Uh…mm." he scratched the back of his head as though he was having a difficult time understanding his superior.

The door slammed shut as Angeal left the training room…

And so begins the fic. I hope this chapter was written well. Please review and I shall update soon…