Ok...a brand spankin new (well, actually, I've been working on this for a
while, but this is going to be the first time any of you have seen it ;)
fic by me!

*hears crickets chirping*

erm...well, anyway, this is, of course, and FF7 fanfic. I have actually put
this one on hold while I work on Atropos, but I thought that it might be a
good idea to get some opinions on it before I bother writing any more on
it. ^_^;;

This, like Atropos, is an alternate reality fic (god, I just can't seem to
get away from them!!! ^^;;), but it is not set in the Shadow World like
Atropos. The entire concept of this one is that a single event in Cloud's
childhood had a different result than it did in FF7, and this is what
happened because of it. Sounds weird, huh? ^_^;; This was actually supposed
to be a fic about Cloud, but...well...you'll see. ^_-

Warnings: Foul language (maybe), violence, some yaoi later on (which is why
I'm being bad and sending this to the YSML) FF7 belongs to squaresoft and
not me, I'm not worth suing.

There are going to be 5 parts coming downstream right after this. Don't
worry, they're fairly short. I don't know why, it just worked out that way.

C&C welcome, please don't kill me for writing another alternate reality!

--
Katsu "O-ka-ne" no Miko
"Erst wenn die Wolken schlafen gehen
kann man uns am Himmel sehen
wir haben Angst und sind allein...
Gott weiss ich wil kein Engel sein..." (~Ramms+ein~)




Multiverse Intro: Butterfly



Parallel Universes: Every decision made in a single day has an infinite
selection of choices, and each choice, no matter how minor, effects the
entire course of the universe. For each choice made in each instant by each
person, there is a set of possibilities, and each possibility exists in a
universe of its own, such that when  universes are put �side by side,� no
two are the same, though they may contain events that are the same or very
similar to the other universes, up to the point of the choice that caused
them to branch off.

Chaos Theory: If a butterfly flaps its wings in Central Park, there will be
a rain in China.

The weather had been hot for weeks, without a sign of giving up any time
soon. Merciless heat beat down upon a small town, located at the feet of a
range of monstrous, black mountains. Not even the stone juggernauts
provided shade from the unseasonal heat. They seemed to shrink from the
sun, in fact, exposing more and more of the town. Not a breath of air
stirred.

In the mountains, curiously enough, the sun was weak, watered down by the
clouds and haze that seemed to constantly hang upon the stone teeth of the
land. Still, the heat was oppressive, beating down on several small figures
that wended their way along a broken, unstable trail that in turn twined
its way around the mountains. No one knew what was beyond the mountains any
more, not really. The trail was far too dangerous to take in all but the
most desperate of circumstances, and it was far too time consuming to go
around the mountains.

On by one, the group of small humans thinned, until only two were left, one
walking boldly ahead, one lagging badly behind, but catching up rapidly.

Humans all look the same in the eyes of a butterfly. All that they can see
is color, reflected in the many faceted lens through which they view the
world. One small human was dark, the other light; so, a brunette and a
blonde wandered the path under the Nibel mountains that day.

Far away, past islands, rivers and oceans, in a place that the small humans
had not yet heard of, and wouldn�t have cared about even if they knew of
its existence, a butterfly lazily finished drinking from the bright red
flower it sat on. In preparation for taking off into the jade green of the
jungle around it, the insect flapped its wings once.

A small gust of wind, completely out of place in the oppressive afternoon
heat, carressed the underside of the path, dislodging a few small molecules
of dirt.

The brunette human stepped on that section of the path, and those few
molecules suddenly became a few molecules too many. The path began to
rapidly crumble and disintegrate, prompting a frightened scream from the
person that had stepped on it.

Further down the trail, the blonde heard the sound and ran toward it,
heedless of his own safety.

Far away, in the misty jungle surrounding the Temple of the Ancients, the
butterfly flapped its wings once more.

A small puff of air moved a tiny piece of slick, crumbly slate to the left
about a centimeter.

It was enough.

Instead of slipping on the piece of slate, losing his balance and falling
as fate had clearly intended, the blonde completely avoided the miniscule
stumbling block. As the brunette human began to fall, he arrived, reaching
out and grabbing on to her wrist, saving her from a fall that would have
caused severe bodily injury, if not death.

With a great deal of effort, the slight blonde pulled the brunette back up
onto the path, then collapsed back on his bottom, panting.

The brunette was panting, as well, though from fear instead of effort. She
turned toward the blonde, her eyes wide. �Cloud�you saved me�� She
whispered.

Satisfied that its warm up exercises were done, a butterfly in a far off
rainforest took off to search for another flower.