The Story of Victoria Strife

Chapter 14: A Fragile Resolve

Victoria's body felt heavy as she sat up in the medical room, the sterile white light above her casting a glow that only seemed to amplify her weariness. The WRO medical facility was quiet—too quiet. She couldn't hear the usual chatter or footsteps outside the door, which only heightened the uneasy silence inside her mind.

She knew she had to get up. The team was waiting. They had been planning, strategizing, preparing for the battles that lay ahead—ones that seemed impossible to win with the enemies closing in from all sides. Yet here she was, feeling like she was crumbling while the world around her spun faster and faster.

"Vincent," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. He had been sitting beside her for hours, his crimson eyes never wavering from her. Even in the shadows, he was a constant—silent and solid. "I can't keep hiding in here."

"You're not hiding," Vincent replied, his voice deep and steady. "You're recovering."

She shook her head. "We don't have time for me to recover. Not with everything that's coming." Her hand trembled as she pushed herself off the bed. The cold metal beneath her fingers sent a shiver through her, reminding her of how fragile she still was, how close she had come to losing herself completely.

Vincent stood beside her, offering his support without saying a word, his presence grounding her. She glanced at him, her expression softening.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"For what?"

"For not giving up on me... when I almost gave up on myself."

Vincent's eyes softened, but he didn't say anything. He didn't need to. They both understood the depth of what was left unspoken between them.

With a deep breath, Victoria stood fully, steadying herself before looking toward the door. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the past few days—Zack and Angeal appearing to help her control the darkness inside, Sephiroth's presence haunting her, and now the looming threat of Genesis and Deepground. But for now, she had to focus. There was no more time to feel weak.

The air outside the mansion was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere that had built up inside. Victoria had slipped away quietly, unable to bear the weight of the conversation happening in the main hall. She needed air, space, and most of all, time to think. The rooftop had become her sanctuary, the one place where she could be alone with her thoughts.

Sitting on the ledge, Victoria pulled her knees to her chest, staring out at the moonlit landscape. The WRO troops stood vigilant around the perimeter, their presence reminding her that danger was never far away. But for now, up here, it felt like the chaos was far below her. She could almost breathe again.

But the memories—the weight of her past—clung to her like a heavy cloak. No matter how hard she tried to push them away, they always resurfaced. The experiments, the torture, the endless feeling of being out of control. And now, the argument from earlier echoed in her mind. Cloud's words had stung more than she cared to admit. He didn't understand what she had been through, and she hadn't told him everything. Not yet.

A gentle rustling from behind startled her, and she turned quickly, her eyes widening as she saw Angeal stepping onto the roof. He moved with a calm grace, his massive Buster Sword resting on his back, as always. His presence was as steady as it had been in her dreams—the dreams where he had helped her quell the darkness within.

"I thought I might find you up here," Angeal said softly, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.

Victoria didn't respond at first, just looked back out over the landscape. "I needed to get away," she murmured, her voice thick with the weight of everything inside her.