Chapter Text
Serah woke up.
Considering the last thing she remembered was struggling to breathe and bleeding out from a stab wound, this was… unexpected. Quiet scuffling sounded off to her left. She kept her eyes shut and feigned still being… asleep? Surely not actually dead?
Carefully wiggling her arms and legs felt normal. Better even, considering her left knee didn’t ache from laying on the… metal?... surface beneath her. Slowly she moved the hand opposite of where the sound was coming from to feel along her abdomen where she knew the stab wound had been, and found a healed scar.
What the fuck?
The scuffling suddenly got louder and without a conscious thought she was rolling to her feet to face what she now recognized as a fight. A man’s back was to her, military style gear, rifle on a sling, bullet resistant vest. Some type of mercenary? He struggled with a woman on the ground, his hands closing around her throat.
She had already stepped forward and snapped his neck when Serah realized two things: She recognized the woman, a nun trained to be an emergency doctor and only referred to as “The Surgeon.” Sera had had many mission wounds treated by her hands when the skill of her sis… friends wasn’t enough. Also, she was completely nude and had only been covered by a sheet that was now on the floor behind her.
The Surgeon coughed and gasped for breath as Serah stretched back for the sheet and quickly wrapped it around herself. Now that she had a moment to look around it clicked exactly where she was. A cold, sinking feeling took residence in her gut. This was where her sis… The sister warriors’ bodies were prepared before being taken to the crypt in Cat’s Cradle after dying in battle. If she was here…
“You were dead,” The Surgeon croaked behind her, making Serah jump as she had almost forgotten the woman was even there. The nun used the other empty table to pull herself to her feet. Serah reached out a steadying hand as the woman seemed to sway, but the fear in her widening eyes had her snatching it back.
The nun crossed herself and muttered a quick prayer before speaking again, “I do not know how you are alive, but you must run. The other sisters are holding these,” she gave a slight kick to the body of the man on the ground, “men off, but you have to keep the Halo out of their hands.”
That cold feeling felt like claws scraping up the inside of her chest as Serah shook her head vehemently and resolutely ignored the first part of The Surgeon’s words, “Shan… Sister Shannon is the halo bearer, not me.”
Sadness and sympathy softened the nun’s features as she pointed at one of the slits in the wall that offered a view of the entrance to the cathedral. The cold claws gripped her throat as Serah hesitantly stepped up to peer out. At first, she saw only rubble and the remains of the heavy cathedral doors hanging at an angle. Who would risk explosions this big within the city? And against a church? Then her eyes dropped a little lower and settled on the altar.
Serah desperately grasped at the stone as her legs threatened to give out and a choked sob ripped from her throat. Even from this distance, she would know that profile and armor anywhere. Tears flowed freely down her face. Her chest started growing tighter by the second as she stared at her old friend and grief consumed her.
She’ll never hear Shannon laugh at one of Mary’s bad jokes, or Lilith’s terrible impersonation of Mother Superion again. Never hear her grumpy protests and toothless threats as Serah woke her up for their early morning run. Never see the proud smile Shannon would give a group of initiates when they did well on a new drill. Never feel her arm wrapped around her shoulders or braiding Serah’s blonde hair after a bad day. Never see Shannon and Mary smile at each other in that specific way that made her heart ache with how much they loved one another.
She never got to say goodbye.
Her vision began to go dark around the edges when a low hum started in her back, and she realized that she had stopped breathing. The hum quickly built-in pitch as warmth seemed to spread through her. The claws around her throat melting under the onslaught of the halo’s power. A stuttering inhale made her stumble away from the window and catch herself on the metal table she awoke on as her vision swam. Her upper body was shaking with her rapid, desperate breaths. The golden glow was so bright even through the sheet that the reflections hurt her eyes.
She knew she needed to get it under control. That it was reacting to her emotions. She would hurt someone if she didn’t calm down.
She clenched her eyes shut and focused on her breathing, just like they had taught her.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Repeat.
Like Shannon had taught her.
That thought almost derailed her progress completely but she yanked her thoughts back to focus on her breathing.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Repeat.
Over and over until the emotional turmoil receded. She imagined a room that she shoved all of the emotions she couldn’t deal with inside. All the pain, grief, fears, and regrets locked away behind a thick wooden door. The hum and light of the Halo fading with the slamming of the mental door.
With one last steadying breathe, Serah opened her eyes and stood up straight once more. She scrubbed at the tear tracks on her face with the sheet. Removing any trace of her prior panic. Her eyes were slightly puffy from crying, but her green irises were clear and the puffiness would soon fade.
She locked eyes with The Surgeon once more, the nun looking at her with a look somewhere between awe and fear.
“Where are my clothes?”
The nun looked towards the back of the room and Serah followed her gaze to where her clothes and possibly someone else’s had been left in a haphazard pile. Waiting to be thrown away. In heavy silence, Serah started grabbing articles and pulling them on. The jeans were a bit dirty, a few small blood spots, but if kept at a distance no one would realize anything was amiss. Even her boxers and sports bra were serviceable, though definitely in need of a wash ASAP. When she got to her shirt she hesitated and held it out before her.
It had been a serviceable enough sweater in a shade just north of royal blue that she really liked. The problem was that it was covered in what was clearly dirty heel prints and the bottom of it, particularly on her right side was soaked in now dried blood. The ragged hole right where she remembered getting stabbed really drove home that she had been dead. No longer on this Earth, dead. The ghost pain of broken ribs and breathing feeling like razorblades in her chest made her lower the sweater quickly.
“Is there any other shirt I can wear?” Her voice was low and sounded tired even to her own ears.
“I don’t…. we usually….,” the nun cleared her throat and started over, “I’m sorry, we don’t keep any spare clothing on hand.”
Serah chuckled darkly to herself as she peeled the bottom of the shirt apart, “Because that would have been too easy…”
The irony smell of old blood turned her stomach as she quickly pulled the shirt down over her head. The cracking and crunching of her dried blood made her internally shudder as she finished pulling the sweater into place. She reached to continue looking through the pile of clothes when she noticed flakes of blood that had broken loose and stuck to her hands. With an almost frantic shake she quickly shook off the dried blood and had to take another deep breath to recenter herself before continuing.
When she didn’t find the last two items she was looking for she sighed in agitation and turned towards The Surgeon again who was still watching warily from the other side of the room. A part of Serah wanted to yell “BOO” just to see if she would fall over in terror. The more rational part reined that impulse in.
“My shoes and OCS pendant. Where are they?” Her agitation must have bled into her voice as the nun visibly swallowed before answering.
“The-the shoes I do not know. I was not here when you were brought in. The… pendant was taken by Mother Superion this morning when she arrived to identify your body.”
Rage started bubbling in her stomach. All members of the OCS were buried with their pendants! To take away a sister’s pendant was… As quickly as it built, the rage cooled again and shame took its place. They cast you out she had to remind herself. Each word was like a knife to her heart. They abandoned you. You’re not a sister anymore.
Worthless. Trash. The male voice hissed in her mind, threatening to break the fragile calm she was holding onto with a white-knuckled grip.
She stubbornly blinked the tears away once more, and refused to acknowledge the voice. Mother Superion’s further betrayal burned like a hot coal in her belly. One last parting shot. One last humiliation. Superion couldn’t even have allowed her the dignity of being buried with the pendant she had earned.
Distant gunfire echoed through the broken doors of the cathedral. Another burst of fire followed that was slightly louder. They were coming back towards the cathedral.
Focus. Protect the halo. Then deal with the OCS.
Serah quickly knelt down next to the dead mercenary and checked his pockets. She stuffed the cash she found into her pocket. The SIM card in his smartphone was crushed and the phone tossed aside.
Too easy to track.
For a heartbeat she considered taking his rifle. She ran her hands along the barrel, missing the feel of a rifle in her hands. It would be helpful if she ran into a group… but she eventually sighed and set it back down after clearing it.
Too hard to conceal.
She did, however, take his combat knife and sidearm. The knife holster she slid into her front pocket and verified that it could easily be drawn if needed. The pistol she checked over and, once satisfied at its condition, tucked it into the back of her waist band and pulled the tail of her sweater over it.
Feeling better now that she was armed, she turned to leave towards the front of the cathedral. Her bare feet silent on the stone floor. She got three steps out of the room when she paused. A question burning in her mind that demanded an answer. She turned back.
“Why me?”
It was the nun’s turn to jump as she must have thought Serah gone already, “I’m sorry?”
“Why was the halo given to me? Where was the next in line?”
“When I removed the halo from Sister Shannon, Sister Lilith was to be the next bearer.” She tiredly gestured towards the mess that was the front of the cathedral, “Then the door exploded. That man got past them, and I ran. I had to hide it, to keep it safe.”
Serah nodded slowly as she turned back towards the stairs. She doesn’t know what she had hoped for, but felt disappointed all the same.
“God has given you a second chance. Don’t waste it.” The nun called after her.
Serah hesitated just a moment before continuing her descent muttering to herself, “God never cared about me before. Why would he now?”
Worthless.
Broken pieces of stone, wood, and glass littered the floor. Serah spared a thought for her poor, bare feet then stepped forwards. Slowly and carefully, she picked her way through the rubble until she stood besides Shannon. The divinium that was her downfall glowing blue with her approach. She had always liked the color of divinium when it glowed. Now she found it almost nauseating. The sheer number of divinium shards visible took her aback. How many more were beneath the surface? Serah’s mind flashed back to another halo bearer, another friend, that had died in her arms years ago of a very similar cause.
A very similar cause. Her brow furrowed. Surely, they couldn’t have been related? They were years apart… Divinium is not a common thing to have, and further knowing that it’s the only weapon guaranteed to kill a halo bearer is even less common. There was no way it was an accident or coincidence. Why would someone put a super rare metal into a bomb if they didn’t know what it does? That amount of divinium could sell for millions on the black market… Who would want to kill halo bearers? And why specifically kill these two halo bearers?
Serah jerked her head up as another blast of gunfire was exchanged, even closer sounding than before. She quickly turned back to Shannon and gently straightened her body on the altar, brushing off any debris and as much dust as she could from her armor. Her hands were shaking so badly she had to shake them out before grasping Shannon’s and folding her hands together neatly at her waist. She looked so much younger, more how Serah remembered her when Serah first arrived at Cat’s Cradle as a trainee. The burden of leadership, of protecting the halo, had always weighed heavily on her shoulders. That was gone now.
If God was real, why would he let her sisters die in such terrible ways?
Tenderly, Serah cupped Shannon’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together one last time. She knew she didn’t have much time as the gunfire grew closer, but she would have this last goodbye. The closest she would ever get to speaking to Shannon again.
She let the tears fall as she whispered her words as though they were for her and Shannon alone, “Did you miss me, sister? Like I missed you?”
Her other hand mirrored the first as she took a shuddering breath, “This shouldn’t have happened. An outcast bearing the halo, while you lie cold and still. I can’t hope to fill the role you have left behind, nor the hole that you have left in our hearts. I never wanted this, was never worthy of it and I doubt they even want me to return.”
Another shuddering breath as the gunfire echoed once more, “I will try for you, sister. Even if they don’t want it. I love you Shannon, and we will meet again in the next.”
Serah pressed a soft kiss to Shannon’s forehead and chuckled wetly before quickly adding, “Tell Reyna that she’s a bitch and I miss her too.”
With those last words, she wiped her tears and turned away.