Foreword:

--What happens when a magic-infused island suddenly appears and begins orbiting Earth? Fantasy/steampunk meets our timeline in 2014, and the consequences will forever change our world.--

Our World... Ruined - A Final Fantasy 6 FanFic-2exakxd-jpg

I'm a huge fan of Final Fantasy 6, which is where the majority of this story's characters are from. There are a few figures on our world that get equal billing, as well.

This is a work-in-progress, so be sure to subscribe so you know when new chapters are posted!


I've received a lot of help in getting this story off the ground - many people from other sites and offline are to thank for invaluable feedback, writing advice and tips that helped get to this point. I look forward in receiving your feedback as well!

Enjoy!



Chapter 1: The Goddess’s Final Act

With a final, agonized roar, the beast known as Atma Weapon collapsed to the hard, cracked surface that comprised the Floating Continent’s peak, its body-length tail and horn-lined head striking the ground with a final thud. Its spiked, organic armor, which lined the top of its body, only served to speed the crumpling of its eight muscled legs as Atma Weapon’s life left its body. The look in its eyes as the last of its magical strength was drawn out of it almost gave the impression of surprise – at least, it seemed so to Celes Chère, former general of the Gestahlian Empire.

Celes relaxed her grip on the Thunder Blade, its hilt still tingling with the magic it helped her absorb. Hefting a claw-scratched Golden shield in her left hand, she peered over its rim at the two companions who had helped her - helped each other, really - get this far. A slight smile crossed her lips as she watched Locke Cole, a self-proclaimed “treasure hunter,” dust off his navy blue mythril vest. Locke examined a bottle of elixir that he'd discovered wedged between the plated joints of Atma – then, sensing her gaze, he glanced up and smiled back. With a flourish, he turned to their regally armored companion and tossed the bottle. "Another one, my liege!" Locke proclaimed with unhidden, friendly sarcasm.

“I'd respond to that in kind, were it not for the presence of a beautiful woman,” Edgar Roni Figaro quipped as he snatched the bottle from the air and smoothly stashed it in the party's Handy Haversack, a tanned leather backpack with the magical ability to store large amounts of items without gaining weight. Shifting the weight of his chainsaw across his shoulders, he ran his fingers through his blonde hair, and with a grin flicked the sack to Locke with the tip of his heavy lance.

"Thank you, by the way," Edgar said with a glance toward Celes, "for not running off like the wind we call Shadow." An assassin who only cared for money and his dog, Shadow’s sudden just before Atma's demise had caught the trio off-guard – especially given that there wasn't anywhere to go on the Continent, save for its polluted caves, creature-infested lakes, or sudden drop-offs to the world far below. Shadow's last words to Celes, whispered as she'd leapt to absorb a Flare spell meant for his backside, were unexpected: "I sold my skills to the Empire...I have no right to fight together with you." With that, he'd sprinted to a weathered rock-face and cleared it in a few bounds, disappearing over its peak and out of their lives once again.

“We have one last item of business to take care of,” Edgar noted grimly as he prepared to leave their fallen foe behind. Celes nodded, gazing past the beast toward the ridge that overshadowed the Warring Triad. Three statues, the frozen forms of goddesses who'd nearly destroyed the world over a thousand years ago, stood facing each other. Celes felt the pull of their combined power, calling to the magic infused in her body with irresistible force. The statues - and Emperor Gestahl's greed-fueled dreams of harnessing their power, the way he'd captured the magical lifeblood of countless innocent espers in building his Magitek empire – were the reason she was here. The legend held that the goddesses had willingly petrified themselves to save the world from their power; Celes was not about to see their sacrifice go to waste.

Kefka Palazzo, obscenely vibrant in his red, yellow, and green motley and haphazardly-smeared makeup, laughed maniacally beside a giddy Emperor Gestahl. The two stood mere feet from the statues and the bevy of small, glowing spheres of energy that passed between their stony forms. The Emperor turned as Celes approached, a smirk stretching his features as his arms parted the folds of his red robe and gold-trimmed cape.

“Well, well....” Gestahl gloated. “You're here just in time to perish. Behold! The Statues!”

Celes, Locke and Edgar all stopped their approach as they watched some of the spheres of energy flow into Gestahl, causing his body to shutter and pulse with light. “Ohh! I’ve got goose bumps! What power…”

“Emperor Gestahl! Please, stop this madness!” Celes ran forward slightly ahead of the group and pleaded to him.

As Locke prepared to fight, an energy sphere fires from the Triad, at the direction of Gestahl, which quickly broke in half and hits both Locke and Edgar, freezing them in place.

Gestahl, with a smirk, walked slowly to the side while still watching Celes. “Celes… Come to me, my pretty! You and Kefka were given life to serve me! It is your birthright to rule the world with me!”

He nodded to Kefka who, with his sword still drawn, walks toward Celes. “Kill the others and we’ll overlook your treachery!” With Kefka handing her an Empire-forged Myhril Sword, Celes took the sword and looked regretfully towards the ground and at her friends. Locke and Edgar were still paralyzed by a Stop spell cast by the Triad, the statues themselves losing control of their power to both Gestahl and Kefka.

“Take this sword! Take care of them. Immediately!” Kefka commanded.

Gestahl took a step forward and extended his hand to Celes. “Celes… together we can rule an entire world! Think of it…!”

Before Celes allowed herself to respond, a boom in the minds of everyone there suddenly exclaimed, “NO!”

Gestahl, Kefka, and Celes collapsed to the ground in front of the Warring Triad as an incredible white flash of light encompassed them, the already-paralyzed Locke and Edgar, and the Floating Continent for a brief moment. As they tried to struggle against the energy field that’s paralyzed them, the Goddess, the center statue which has the shape of a naked, voluptuous young woman with stone ribbons flowing on its sides and a stone medallion behind her head spoke in their minds.

“With our last ounce of will, we three have acted to make the ultimate sacrifice to serve the world we swore to protect. We were responsible for a war on your world in the past, and we will not be held responsible for the destruction that you want to bring.”

The voice of the Goddess began to soften and fade. “Your world is now safe… as you are now far… far away…”

With the final dissipation of their grip on everyone, Kefka jumped up and exclaimed while throwing his arms in the air, “Nice magic trick – now show me your real power!!!”

Gestahl caught his breath as he lifted himself back up, feeling winded from the magical attack, though he was already fast regaining his composure. Just before reaching towards Kefka, something in the distance caught his eye. Something big. Celes, though still on her hands and knees, stared at the same, wide object that she could only think of as an airship – but without the large envelope and with wings. And it was quickly getting closer.

“I command you! Give me your power! Curses!...” Kefka trailed off from his obsessive rant towards the statues as he, too, glanced angrily at the object that was making a sputtering, deafeningly loud screaming sound from two cylinders, one on each wing, as it flew overhead. A shadow enveloped the peak and the group, the object itself close enough to blow the three of them off their feet and towards the edge of the precipice. It continued on to collide with a nearby hill, exploding on impact.


March 10th, 2014, 5:03AM GST
Dubai International Airport, Dubai, United Arab Emirates

“What the hell is going on!”

“We just lost another one: Air India flight 1301, ninety-five kilometers east of here,” Nasir said to Adam with a mix of surprise and increased worry. The beacon for the Boeing 787 from Mumbai just disappeared even though it was listed as flying at 7,000 meters in the sky. It was the third plane in the last three minutes that had abruptly lost all communication with the tower.

Adam Hajjar, one of the air traffic controllers working the early-morning shift, was trying to keep his cool, but with every instrument and radar giving what should be impossible readings, his disheveled black hair was starting to reflect his increasing inclination to lose it. His colleagues couldn’t make sense of it either, and with three of them trying to hail a group of Air India flights that had suddenly disappeared off of their screens, the situation was starting to truly test their mental flexibility.

“When was the last time you’ve seen ATC equipment behave like this?” Taj, the youngest controller in the tower, asked.

“Never – and don’t say this is some computer glitch, Adam. You think all problems are computer glitches!” Nasir ran to one of the radar monitors and points at the giant shape that whited out a third of the screen. “This can’t be a glitch!”

“It has to be,” Adam countered as he scrolled through scores of lines of code on his desk monitor, trying to find the source of the problem. “Look, according to our equipment, there’s an object larger than the entire city of Dubai coming from the east – but it simply appeared on everything just a few minutes ago out of nowhere. At the same time of its appearance, we started to lose contact with planes. This is too complicated to be a simple virus or an attack – it has to be a bug in the system!”

Adam wiped beads of sweat from his forehead as he examined the radar screens, which all displayed… something. Something large enough to completely block their ability to manage flights coming from all points north and west of Dubai.

“Umm, four more planes just went off screen ,” Taj nervously said. “They all originated from the east: Delhi, Mumbai, and Chennai.”

“This is impossible,” Nasir exclaimed. “Taj, Adam, we need to redirect flights away from the airport until we can figure this out – we’re effectively blind if this can’t get sorted quickly.”

As the sun started to break over the horizon and Adam continued hammering away at his keyboard to find a solution to what he was certain was a serious computer bug, he began to notice that his colleagues are no longer yelling over intercoms or trying to hail the missing planes.

“Adam… you have to see this… Adam!” Taj called without looking at him.

As Adam craned his neck over to where everyone else is standing, his heart sped up and his eyes widened. Sliding his hands off the keyboard, knocking it off his paper-covered desk, he joined his colleagues at the east end of the control tower, staring in awe and fear.

“What is it?” Nasir asked, holding onto the rail by the window with whitened knuckles.
 
“It’s… Allah’s floating rock,” Taj responded, mesmerized. “But much bigger…”

A floating landmass, stretching beyond the eastern horizon and reaching far to the north, dominated the sky. As Adam began to contemplate rolling out his prayer mat, the power for the entire airport went out, soon followed by the city of Dubai.

And the first of many nearby airplanes began their silent, unpowered descent.