‹ Prequel: Memories
Broken
Broken
Kefka Palazzo was a strange man. No, strange was an understatement. He was insane, broken. And maniacal. Maniacal was the word that most soldiers in the Empire used to describe him. And Gods damn if he hated it. He hated being called maniacal, crazy, and all those other colorful terms. Calling him maniacal or crazy was just a polite way of saying he was broken. But it wasn't his fault. It was that damned Doctor Cid's fault. He was the one running those experiments, tests to see if the human body can be infused with the magical properties, no, the magic of the remnants of the Espers.
Kefka was the first volunteer (not that he had much choice in the matter. After all, he wanted to please his Emperor and father figure, Ghestal) and pleased him he did. But as soon as he felt the strange, alien powers surging through him, making his heart pound hard, he felt dizzy and sick, almost like he was on fire, but then he was better. He was... reborn.
He didn't feel different at first, but when he killed a butterfly out in the field that day, he delighted in the suffering of it. He felt a thrill of ripping its wings out (though it was disappointing that the measly insect didn't utter a cry of agony.) It just fluttered the remnants of its wings, flailing its limbs, no its whole body in attempts to escape him before simply dying. To say he didn't enjoy the seeing the beautiful creature in this agonizing state was an understatement, but at the same time he felt a sense of... sadness.
Kefka was the first volunteer (not that he had much choice in the matter. After all, he wanted to please his Emperor and father figure, Ghestal) and pleased him he did. But as soon as he felt the strange, alien powers surging through him, making his heart pound hard, he felt dizzy and sick, almost like he was on fire, but then he was better. He was... reborn.
He didn't feel different at first, but when he killed a butterfly out in the field that day, he delighted in the suffering of it. He felt a thrill of ripping its wings out (though it was disappointing that the measly insect didn't utter a cry of agony.) It just fluttered the remnants of its wings, flailing its limbs, no its whole body in attempts to escape him before simply dying. To say he didn't enjoy the seeing the beautiful creature in this agonizing state was an understatement, but at the same time he felt a sense of... sadness.