personalapocalypse | Confrontation (Star Ocean 2, Lucifer, T)

I never reposted this here, did I? (No newsletters, plz)

Title: Confrontation
Author: Wallwalker
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Rating: Teen and up
Characters: Lucifer (Cyril), Gabriel (Indalecio), Haniel (Vesper)
Word Count: 1881
Content Notes: None.
Other Notes: Parallels fic entry for this year's round. I have actually had this idea in my head since playing SO:TSS the first time, hence the use of the different names. I'm really not good with the Wise Men; this was my attempt to at least figure out some of their motivations.

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This universe could be so much more, if only the others would see it the way that he did.

Cyril's eyes hungrily drank in the landscape of the planet that he and the other Wise Men weathered on, as they made their preparations for their return to what was left of Nede. It would be a long time coming, even after so many millenia, but it would happen sooner or later, despite his best efforts to slow them down.

The people worshipped them, he thought with deep frustration. They would do anything to please them. They would form armies and make war in their names, on this world or any other. And yet, Indalecio's plan would destroy them, and every other weak-minded race in the universe. Billions upon billions of worshippers, all of the power that they could ever want, gone.

He had to stop this. He stared down at the people in their homes, the ones who feared and respected them. He cared nothing for them, of course; they are only means to an end. But it is the end that he wishes to reach, and their leader refuses to agree. There is, of course, only one alternative.

"Cyril."

He turned around at the sound of his name. "Must you disturb me as I rest, Vesper?" he said, looking down at the burly interloper.

Vesper was not cowed, of course; he never was. He, like all of the others, followed their leader blindly, never considering what else they could have. His eyes were angry and fierce under his purple crew cut. "The alternative was to take my concerns... directly to our leader," he said, frowning. "I thought I was doing you a courtesy by coming to you first."

"Courtesy? You disturb my meditations, and you say that you are being considerate?" He sneered at the underling, the master of spies. "Speak now, and leave quickly, or I may become angry."

"You bluster, Cyril, like the winds that you summon. But you cannot defeat me with such tricks." Vesper shook his head. "And you shouldn't wish to. I came here because I hoped to reason with you."

"And what is there to reason about?"

"I know that you are trying to overthrow our leader."

Of course he did, Cyril thought sourly. The ones he commands were probably watching his every move, and they were all very, very good at watching. But he would not give in so easily. "Who says so, Vesper? You? Your mad partner, whose wits have been addled by the fires?"

"Say what you will about Decus, but he follows our leader's orders, and so do I," Vesper retorted. Cyril can feel Vesper's irritation more than anything else - neither his expression nor the tone of his voice has changed, but there is an energy in the room, a sort of humming that he feels whenever the stoic warrior is angry. As insulting Decus always seems to do. How predictable Vesper was. "We follow them more faithfully than you ever have, Lucifer -"

Cyril struck without warning, a gust of wind fierce enough to level villages and send the feeble tribesmen of this primitive planet into paradoxyms of fear and worship. It was only enough to knock Vesper off of his feet, and even then he caught himself almost at once, if barely. "You do not have the right to use that name, Haniel," he hissed through his teeth at his fallen ally.

"I have... every right," Vesper gasped, rising back to his full height, bracing himself. The humming of energy was stronger, then, and Cyril could feel the tingling of it on his skin like a physical presence. "You sit at his left hand, and yet you would betray us all? You have no right to call yourself my superior!"

"And so you and your precious Michael plot to take my place?" he sneered.

"No," he said. "We do not... covet your place. But you should not be sitting by his side. We all know how... this will end -"

Cyril shook his head. He raised his hand to strike, sensing the opportunity. One less to worry about when the time came, he thought. But the winds that had gathered about him stilled, the strength gone out of them all at once. And the tingling on his skin, the energy that Vesper had gathered, faded as well - he felt the sudden absence of it, and saw the shock in the larger man's eyes.

Cyril turned around, following Vesper's gaze, and saw their leader standing behind him, his face a carefully composed mixture of amusement and disapproval. "That is enough," he said, staring them both down. "I would prefer that you not kill each other today."

"Master," Vesper immediately said, bowing his head. A disgraceful display, Cyril thought, although he dared not do any different himself. "I was only trying to -"

"I know, Haniel," he said, walking past Cyril and putting a hand on his shoulder. Their master only called them by their true names, the ones that they hid from the mortals that they subjugated. The old names, the names which held power. "I know what you and your partner have said concerning Lucifer and myself. But for now, things will remain as they are."

"As... as you wish, Master," Vesper said, visibly struggling to keep the note of deference in his voice.

Indalecio nodded. "Go, now. I will speak to you and Michael later."

Vesper nodded. "Of course," he said, moments before winking out of the room, the only trace that he had been there the subtle odor of ozone and a faint crackling of energy.

"Gabriel," Cyril said, when the other did not immediately speak. He knew he was on dangerous ground, using his master's true name at such a moment, but it was a risk he would have to take. "The others spread lies. I would never -"

"Hush, Lucifer." Indalecio turned to stare him down with his piercing green eyes. The aura of power around him was palpable; Cyril imagined that he could breathe it, that it would poison him from the inside if Indalecio ever wished it. He stepped back, frowning. If he ever hoped to defeat him... he would have to have no distractions. None of the other Wise Men could be allowed to sneak up and stab him in the back.

Still. Even then, with none of the others watching him, Cyril was finding it difficult even thinking about raising a hand against him. There was something about those eyes, something hypnotic. Something that made him want to abandon those thoughts, to fall to his knees before him and acknowledge him as their leader. Because he was their leader - everyone knew it. He had been made for it. Cyril hated it, and hated him for it, and yet... he could not deny that he felt the same pull that all of the others did. Every living thing felt the urge to bow to the great and powerful master of the Ten Wise Men. And Cyril liked to believe that his willingness to struggle against it made him better than any of the others.

"I know that they say many things about you, Lucifer. They say that you dream of ruling over this corrupt land, that you wish to have these toys -" and he waved his hand outwards, towards the landscape, as if to indicate every being on that planet - "as your adoring subjects. As if they were of any value to you whatsoever."

"If they have no value, then why have we taught them our secrets?" Cyril retorted. "If we truly wanted to destroy everything, we would slaughter them all like cattle."

"We are in no position to destroy the universe yet," his master said patiently. "And when we do, I do not wish for it to be a wasteland. I want the universe to be full of intelligent beings. I want them to see the Crest's activation. I want them all to realize that their end comes, and that for all of their power, they can do nothing about it." He smiled a cold, frightening smile. "Then they will know what I felt at the moment of my creation."

"We could do so much more, Gabriel," he pressed, unwilling to give up - but it was useless. He had seen that smile before. "We could recreate this universe in our own image."

"No. The universe is corrupt. Nothing we create here would ever stand. Nothing can stand on a rotten foundation." Indalecio shook his head sadly. "You know this to be true, Lucifer. You have seen how these people waste our gifts. They wage war on each other, drawing power for their weapons from the Crests that we give them. If we tried to rule them, they would someday turn on us."

"You mean that they would try," Cyril said. "Try and fail, and the ones who lived would learn from their mistakes."

"And others would rise." He shook his head, his red hair falling about his face. "No. It is useless. Once we find our way back to where the Nedians have hidden themselves, their pathetic lives will all come to an end."

Cyril wanted to argue. He wanted to try to persuade him. But... damn him to hell, he couldn't. He couldn't stand up to him. Not when he was standing in front of him that way, feeling the full force of his charisma. Whenever he destroyed him, it would have to be a stab in the back, a quick one. It was the only way he'd ever be able to attack him, to do any sort of harm.

Inda - no. Damn these meaningless false names. Gabriel reached out for him, putting one warm hand on his shoulder. "It will be centuries before we are strong enough to break through their barrier," he said. "You will see the horrors of this universe, as I have. You will understand."

What horrors? he wanted to ask. Gabriel was always alluding to these horrible things that he had seen, but he had never said more than that. What was he talking about? Why wouldn't he let the others see what he had seen? But instead he swallowed, hard, the odd warmth and tenderness in Gabriel's touch making him feel... strange. Nervous, perhaps. "And if I don't?" he said, his voice wavering slightly. "What then?"

"You will." His gaze hardened for a moment. "I will not consider any other alternative."

Gabriel drew away, and then, all at once, he was gone, leaving Lucifer alone on the top of the tower, alone and oddly... what? Was it sadness that he felt, that unfamiliar knot in his chest? For all of the time that they had spent wandering the galaxy, he still did not understand what it was that tied him to their leader. It was strange, and surely unnatural.

It wouldn't stop him. He would betray them all, someday. If none of the others would realize that Gabriel's plans were folly, then he would leave the others behind, take control of the universe himself. He would make this place live up to its full potential, and lead it in all of its glory.

As long as he did not think too hard about who he had destroyed, that would be reward enough.