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Kefka pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the containment unit and glared at the girl inside. She floated inside the tube within a watery gel, all sorts of needles and wires and other nameless devices attached to and inside of her pale skin. The Emperor Gestahl and the Empire’s head scientist, Cid, stood several feet away, discussing their latest triumph.
“I’ve named her Celes Chere,” Cid said, smiling with pride. “Everything has gone accordingly, perhaps even better than expected. Her body has accepted the Esper magic without incident and she should be ready to awaken within the week.” Cid then lowered his voice to a whisper and added “This process was infinitely less…traumatic, than the previous transfusion, so…”
“So hopefully she will be much more stable,” Gestahl finished, not bothering to lower his voice at all.
Kefka winced slightly at the jab, but made no other sign that it bothered him. Instead, he whispered towards the sleeping Celes, “What a difference a year makes.”
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One year earlier…
“Your Highness, I’m not sure if it is wise to perform the procedure at this time,” Cid cautioned.
“I thought you told me you had perfected the technique of Esper infusion. I want to make him a Magitek Knight as soon as possible.” Gestahl gestured towards the blonde teenager across the room, who was practicing his sword techniques with another soldier. “He is the most promising soldier I have—smart, strong, cunning, and above all, completely loyal.”
“I understand that, your Highness, but…” Cid wrung his hands nervously, trying to impress the gravity of the situation without incurring the Emperor’s wrath. “You see, the procedure…he would have to be awake the whole time, we’ve found that’s the only way it will work, but perhaps if we do more research…”
“So he will be awake, that is the huge concern?” Gestahl scoffed. “He is brave enough to bear such a small inconvenience.”
“But he will be awake while he is cut open!” Cid gasped, eyes pleading with the Emperor. “If he passes out, we will have to revive him before we can continue. We can’t even use any pain inhibitors…do you understand what the pain will be like? What this could do to him?”
Gestahl paused for a moment in consideration, then gave his order. “Cid, you will perform this procedure tonight. Make Kefka into the Empire’s first Magitek Knight.
***
That night, Kefka lay bared on the cold operating table, arms and legs spread wide and bound down with leather restraints.
“I’m sorry about the restraints,” Cid remarked sadly, “it’s so you won’t hurt yourself.”
Kefka nodded, eyes wide with fear as he took in the sight of rows of instruments lined up on tables, all sharp and metal that gleamed in the overhead lights.
“Now, I know this will be…uncomfortable, but please bear it, I’ll finish as soon as I can,” Cid promised.
As Cid began to make the first incision upon Kefka’s skin, the youth began to scream, his arms and legs straining hard against his bonds as the pain flooded every nerve. It wasn’t long before he blacked out, only to be awakened suddenly by an assistant with a vial of foul smelling salts. This happened over and over again, the pain sending him into the darkness and then awakening again to the pain. He screamed, and he knew he never stopped screaming, even as he faded in and out, he could feel the pain and hear himself, still screaming.
***
“It’s over Kefka, it’s over,” Cid murmured soothingly as he finished tying off the last of the stitches. The pale body was covered with stitched incisions that would soon heal, luckily without any trace left behind. At the moment, however, Cid was not so sure of how well the boy’s mind would heal. There was something different about his eyes, once bright and clear, they seemed somehow darker and as though he was looking but not truly seeing.
The assistants released the leather straps and helped Kefka up, throwing a blanket around him. Cid continued to talk to him, trying to get a response, hoping he had not gone into shock. Kefka stood and the assistants went to hold him up and help him back to his room. As they passed the table full of instruments, Kefka suddenly grabbed one of the scalpels and in one quick movement he had cut the throats of both assistants.
Cid backed away, feeling around desperately for something to defend himself with. The blood began to pool around Kefka’s feet and he began to laugh, a child-like giggling that made Cid grow cold. As Kefka turned to face him, he dropped the scalpel and smiled at Cid, even as tears flowed down his cheeks.
“Cid, promise me,” he pleaded, “promise me you will not tell the Emperor I screamed.”
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“Kefka, did you hear me?” Gestahl’s voice cut into Kefka’s remembrance. He turned away from Celes and bowed slightly.
“Yes, your Highness?”
“It’s almost time for you to instruct your troops about the upcoming attack. Go get ready and make sure they are prepared.”
“Of course, your Highness.” Kefka again bowed slightly. As he turned to leave, he took one last look at the future Magitek Knight, her face peaceful in its ignorance. He pressed a kiss to the glass, leaving behind a red stain from his lips.
***
Kefka stopped off at his room to ready himself before performing his duties. He sat down at his vanity and gathered his make-up, reapplying his lipstick and white foundation to perfection. As soon as his mask was painted in place, he considered his eyes for a moment. They were the only things he couldn’t stand about his face because he couldn’t change them, and they reminded him of times long ago. He had once considered plucking them out, but abandoned that idea when he realized the Emperor would not be pleased to have a blind Knight.
His thoughts turned to his upcoming task, the instruction of the Empire’s army, whom he would lead against the vulgar commoners of this world. They did not know it yet, but he would truly be a savior to them, for with their deaths he would allow them to go into the darkness and never again suffer the very pain of existence. He would show them all the beauty of nothingness.
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Fin