It started with the scars. The blond cadet couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had started. When Cloud looked back, the last few days had been riddled with signs like these, he could hardly believe he hadn't noticed before. He had only really noticed this morning when he looked in the mirror and saw a tiny scar running through his eyebrow. That hadn't been there last night. In fact, little scars covered areas of his body he couldn't remember ever getting injuries on. There was a particularly nasty one on his shoulder, the scar tissue was thick, as if it had been forced to grow over something. He wondered how he would have even gotten a scar like that, did he get shot or something? Despite the number and depth of the scars, there was no unusual pain accompanying them. They felt old, like just another part of his skin. It was a matter of seconds before he stopped noticing them. He had to forcibly remind himself they weren't supposed to be there when his hands brushed over one and hardly felt it.

After that, it was the calluses. They had probably been growing at the same time as the scars, but Cloud hadn't noticed them at all. It was only when he brushed a hand over his cheek that he felt something was wrong. Were his hands always this hard? He would've thought that he was just finally developing calluses from all the rifle practice he'd been doing but he hadn't picked up a gun in a few days, too busy working on other classes. Besides that, when he went to practice on his own after class ended, his rifle felt wrong in his hands. It just didn't belong.

As Cloud was putting his rifle back on the equipment rack, his eye caught a sword. Out of curiosity he picked it up, he had never tried a sword before, despite all his lofty ambitions to be like the general. He put it back down after a few test moves in disinterest. 'It's off balance,' he thought in minor annoyance. He was nearly out of the training room before he realized the odd nature of that thought. It was "off balance"...?

Cloud went back and picked up the sword again. It felt fine at first. Like a sword. But no, there was definitely something wrong about the balance. The hilt was a little too heavy, the blade had no weight to it. The longer he held it, the worse it felt. 'That chip in the side is throwing the weight to the left. If someone were to fight with it, they would end up overcompensating because the hilt is too heavy, they wouldn't even notice the chip until it was too late. A chip like this is enough to ruin the integrity of the sword, one good hit and I bet it would snap. I could fight with it if I was careful to only land hits on the base of the blade but it-' Cloud dropped the sword in a mixture of shock and fear and the stream of thoughts stopped. Those weren't his thoughts. He didn't know anything about swords. He knew he didn't know anything about swords. But the information that had surfaced with the thoughts was still there. Nothing happened for a few minutes, so he reached down and gingerly touched the hilt of the sword. Again, nothing happened and he replaced the sword on the rack quickly.

Cloud returned to the barracks and had a nice shower, then slipped into the nearly deserted mess hall for a quick meal. As he was walking back to his room, he ran a hand through his hair, as he usually did, thinking nothing of the habit. But his hands didn't run through the hair like they usually did. Instead of catching on the long ungainly spikes, they slid though all too quickly. Had someone cut his hair while he'd been sleeping...? He glanced at his reflection in a passing window, he didn't really look that different. Maybe his hair was a little shorter, but... hadn't it always been like that? He decided he was imagining things; it was late, he simply needed sleep.

When Cloud woke, he panicked, remembering that his squad had a drill that morning. He didn't hear any sound from his roommates and assumed they had left him behind. It wouldn't be the first time. He scrambled into his uniform, half tripping as he pulled the pants over his skinny hips. He was half done lacing his second boot when he realized the guy who slept in the bunk across from him was still there, asleep. It took him a few seconds to process that one. When he looked around, all the members of his squad were there, all asleep. He looked over at the clock on the wall. He still had half an hour before the wake up call would come. Oh. He went to the bathroom, still only half dressed and splashed cold water on his face. After his burst of adrenaline, he wasn't going to fall asleep again he knew. He finished putting on his uniform in leisurely silence, unused to having extra time. By the time the bell did ring, Cloud was fully dressed and alert, which was odd, considering how much of a morning person he wasn't.

When the dreaded drill came around, Cloud found he wasn't doing as badly as he expected. Although he was lagging behind the others that were still able to run, he managed to finish the running without collapsing. The same was true of the other exercises. He wasn't the best in the squad by a long shot, but he was no longer the worst. He was on his way back from the showers when he was cornered by two members of the squad from the next barracks over. These two had made a habit of taking out their anger on Cloud. He had never done well in any of his classes, especially anything physical. As such, he wasn't well liked by his teachers and fellow cadets. The first time this had happened, he had called out for help, but everyone averted their eyes and walked by.

Cloud started frantically trying to figure out what to do. Stay and let them beat him up? What other option was there? 'Calm down,' his frantic mind slowed a little. Wait, why did he think that...? 'It's okay. You can take these guys,' no, that was definitely not him, even if it sounded no different then his thoughts normally did. 'They're stronger, but you're faster, remember?' Well, that was true; he had little to no endurance, but he was fast... But what did that have to do with- 'Stay calm, don't let them rile you up.' They were saying something to him, but he was hardly listening. 'Look at them; they're overconfident. Sloppy.' One of them pushed his shoulder, but, distracted, he let himself be pushed back a step and didn't respond. 'Will you fight or let yourself get hurt?' the voice that was him but wasn't at the same time asked him rhetorically.

A fist came flying at him and it was just so easy to step under it and use the bigger boy's momentum to push him over. The other boy lunged at him, but Cloud slipped to the side and let him trip over his fallen friend. They both stood, livid, and he could feel his heartbeat jumping off and on rhythm. The adrenaline was doing something odd to his body and he couldn't concentrate on the boys who were charging at him. Cloud's vision was blurry, clouded with a swirling blue-green light. He lashed out, but he couldn't quite tell if had connected. He felt a sharp pain as he was punched in the stomach. He didn't remember falling, but then he was on the ground and they were kicking him. The kicks didn't hurt as much as they should have; 'I've felt worse after all,' he thought grimly to himself. Wait, what? Felt worse? What was- Suddenly, there was a burning sensation in his heart. Every pump of blood sent a searing pain through every part of his body. Cloud might have been screaming, he wasn't sure, didn't care. He couldn't hear anything, there was a pounding in his ears that drowned out everything else. He couldn't tell if the two boys were still kicking him, he couldn't feel anything but the awful burning. Finally, he passed out from the pain and his mind went gloriously blank.

Cloud was disoriented when he woke up. Instead of the cold gray of the barracks, he was in a room that was so white, he could almost taste the white in the air. Some analytical part of his brain, a part he couldn't remember having, was telling him he was in an infirmary. 'Now, what did I do this time? Did WRO drop me out of a helicopter again? Reno said he thought it would be funny. It was sort of 'funny' until I was attacked by a Nibelheim dragon on the way down.'

'No wait, what is WRO again?' he asked himself. Vague memories of various faces flashed through his head. Cloud recognized several, one being the vice-president of Shinra. There were also a couple people in Turk uniforms that he recognized if only because of the clothing. One of them, a red-head, was labeled "Reno" in his head, he could only presume it was the same Reno who supposedly dropped him out of a helicopter. It was a very blurry memory that didn't make any sense, as Cloud couldn't remember ever traveling in a helicopter. Nor did he seem to be motion sick in the memory. It was ridiculous in general really, he couldn't fight a Nibelheim dragon in the first place, disregarding surviving a fall from a helicopter. He tucked the memory in the back of his mind for later consideration.

Cloud remembered the fight, if you could call it that, in the hall and he looked around cautiously. The beds around him were empty, but a few beds over the curtain had been drawn around a bed in the corner. The burning pain had subsided and any soreness was rapidly fading. There were no doctors or nurses around, so he slipped out of the bed and put his boots and helmet back on. He wasn't normally one to run off without permission, but something about this room was starting to really get to him- another blurrier, green-tinged memory surfaced that he instinctively blocked from his mind. It was high time to get out of here. He could hear an argument going on in the next room, the voices sounded familiar, but he ignored it and crept past the open doorway. As he passed, he glanced in to see a man in a lab coat with his back to him; he could see the shape of another man behind him, the two were arguing heatedly. He slipped out the door silently and walked down the hall warily.

Cloud checked his PHS for the time and was surprised to see he had been out most of the day. His squad should have been in the mess hall, but it was too late to slip in with them, so he headed to the gym instead. It was as deserted as he had expected it to be, so he took off his helmet and the heavier parts of his armor. Dressed in a white shirt and navy blue pants, he could've been any rank, really. He went to the weapon rack and, on a whim, picked out a sword. He selected one that, logically, he knew he shouldn't be able to lift and held it for a minute to check the balance. 'Well, it's not the fusion sword, but it will do.' Fusion sword? What was- A picture of a large complicated-looking broadsword floated to the top of his mind. Oh, of course, the fusion sword. How could he have forgotten his beloved weapon? 'When exactly was that memory from?' he wondered absently. He was remembering a lot of strange things recently.

The sword was surprisingly easy to lift. Cloud suspected he was used to the heavier weight of the fusion sword, even though he wasn't sure it even existed. He began doing kata in an attempt to calm down, temporarily ignoring the stubborn side of his brain that insisted that it had never helped before. His instincts were stronger and easier to follow and besides, it was helping. Blocking out his thoughts with practiced ease, he flowed through the movements with a grace that felt too familiar to be unnatural. He wasn't sure why it was so calming, but all of his stress just melted away. 'I know what I'm doing,' he realized. 'Not only that, I'm good at it.' Being the object of mostly scorn, he'd never felt particularly good at anything. He mostly felt useless, like a mistake, but this... This felt good. This was comfortable, familiar; so natural, it was like breathing. He didn't question his sudden skill. He didn't question the memories flooding his mind. He didn't care.

At some point he stopped. Cloud wasn't sure how long he'd been going for, fighting imaginary enemies and making games out of remembering different fighting styles he'd learned. It was probably late and he was definitely tired. 'Normally I'd be able to go much longer, but this younger body-' even in his tired mind, that sounded a little wrong- 'is still weak.' He collected his gear and made his way through the doors quietly. It was certainly past curfew, he had to be careful. He could hear a set of footsteps around the corner and darted down the hall. Cloud snuck through the building with a smile on his face. He wasn't sure why he was happy, but he was. Everything was just so carefree. Nothing bad could happen. He suspected it had something to do with being tired, he hadn't been tired in so long after all. There was something he was forgetting, he was sure, but he ignored the niggling feeling in the back of his mind, it could wait.

Cloud woke up in a cold sweat the next morning. A dream hovered at the edge of his memory, but he couldn't quite recall it. Based on the state he was in however, he wasn't sure he wanted to remember. Like yesterday, it was a half an hour before the wake up call. He sat in bed panting, staring at the bottom of the bunk above his. His thoughts wandered, as they do when one wakes up from a frightening dream. 'Oh right,' he thought, 'that was what I was supposed to be remembering last night. I'm here to save the world.'