Chapter Text
Tifa Trailer
The wind swept gently across a vast field, rolling over lush green grass that shimmered beneath the open sky. Anyone standing there could almost hear the soft whisper of the blades swaying in the breeze.
But at a small clearing on the edge of the field, another sound could be heard.
Clang.
A fist slammed into a training dummy with incredible force.
Clang. Clang.
Another series of blows followed.
Clang. Clang. Thud.
This time, the strikes were followed by a powerful kick.
With one final attack, the training dummy was sent flying several meters across the clearing.
Standing in the center of the circular training ring was a seventeen-year-old girl, dressed in a black-and-white training outfit and wearing red combat gloves. Her long black hair was tied into a high ponytail with a red ribbon. Her dark crimson eyes were filled with determination.
She breathed heavily after the intense workout, trying to steady her breathing and bring her heartbeat back under control. She walked over to one of the wooden benches and took a long drink of water.
“Tifa.”
The young woman looked up and saw her teacher standing before her.
He was an older man, though he was still in excellent physical condition. His broad, muscular frame was dressed in a leather vest, loose-fitting trousers, and a red cloak. Despite his gray hair and the lines on his face, there was still a great deal of life in him. His eyes reflected years of wisdom and experience.
“Master Zangan,” Tifa replied, respectfully bowing her head.
“Is there something wrong?”
Zangan remained silent for a moment before finally giving her his answer.
“It is time.”
Tifa immediately knew what he meant.
She now stood inside a large training hall, with a massive combat ring occupying the center.
Her outfit had changed. She now wore black combat pants, red-and-black combat boots, and a tight-fitting black shirt beneath a white combat jacket.
Silver metal bracers covered her forearms. Each one contained three Materia slots, two of which held glowing green orbs.
Black leather gloves covered her hands.
Tifa took a deep breath.
Then another.
She centered herself.
A loud siren suddenly echoed through the hall.
[Music begins FFVII REMAKE: Let the Battles Begin!]
Six combat drones activated at once and rushed toward her.
Tifa remained perfectly still.
One of the drones reached her first.
Its metal fist shot toward her face.
Before it could make contact, Tifa raised her arm, effortlessly knocking the attack aside before countering with a powerful swinging punch.
The second drone attacked with a kick.
Tifa blocked it and retaliated with a brutal combination of strikes.
Two more attacked simultaneously.
She twisted away from their blows, dancing between them with practiced precision before positioning herself in the perfect spot.
All those years of training under Zangan's guidance were finally showing.
One of the drones suddenly closed in.
Tifa already had an answer.
One of the Materia embedded in her bracer began to shine with a brilliant green light.
With a quick motion of her hand, she unleashed a shard of ice.
The crystal struck the drone head-on.
The machine was hurled backward and slowly began to freeze.
(One down. Five left.)
One of the remaining drones suddenly opened its palm.
A flamethrower erupted from its arm.
Tifa took several steps backward.
The rising heat.
The roar of the flames.
The smell of Smoke.
All of it brought the memory rushing back.
Her eyes widened.
And once again, she saw it.
Burning houses.
The stench of smoke.
Bodies lying motionless across the ground.
Her Hometown Nibelheim in Ruin.
And standing among the flames was the man she had sworn to hate for the rest of her life.
Long silver hair.
A black coat.
And a long blade stained with blood.
That brief moment of hesitation was all it took.
One of the drones struck her across the face.
Tifa crashed to the ground as the remaining machines jumping her.
She breathed heavily and cursed under her breath.
(How could this happen?)
After all these years, she was still trapped.
Still a prisoner of that moment.
Powerless.
Helpless.
All those emotions came flooding back.
And the fear that perhaps she would never be strong enough to escape them.
“True strength and courage do not come from the absence of fear and doubt...but from overcoming them.”
Her master's words echoed through her mind.
The man who had taken her in after the tragedy.
The man who had cared for her, trained her, and offered her guidance whenever she needed it.
The man who had become a father figure to her after, she had lost her own father.
That man had prepared her for this.
And she would be damned if she failed him now.
The green Materia in her bracer began to glow once more.
Tifa slammed her palm against the ground.
A violent burst of ice erupted from beneath her, creating a wall of jagged crystals.
The drones were blasted backward.
Tifa rose to her feet and steadied herself.
She activated the second Materia.
A soft green light surrounded her body, dulling the pain and restoring her strength.
She would not allow her past to break her.
“My heart is calm,” she whispered, almost like a mantra.
Tifa closed her eyes for a brief moment and focused.
She gathered the energy within her Aura.
Then she charged.
The first drone was practically torn apart beneath a relentless barrage of punches.
The next received a devastating uppercut that launched it into the air.
Tifa followed it upward, twisting through the air before delivering a powerful kick that tore the machine apart in midair.
The third tried to attack.
Tifa caught it.
She leapt into the air with the drone in her grasp before driving it headfirst into the floor.
The machine collapsed with a shower of sparks.
The final two drones charged.
But before they could reach her, they froze in place.
Ice rapidly spread across their mechanical bodies.
Tifa clenched her fist.
She focused all her remaining energy into it.
And once again, memories flashed before her eyes.
But this time, she saw someone else.
A young man with messy blond hair.
Bright blue eyes.
The thought of him gave her the strength to keep moving.
She would find him again.
Wherever he was.
A small smile appeared on Tifa's face.
Then she ran.
Her fist, surrounded by a blazing aura of energy, struck its target.
“FINAL HEAVEN!!!”
Tifa raced past the frozen drones.
A moment later, a tremendous explosion erupted behind her, shaking the entire training hall.
Pieces of shattered combat drones rained from the ceiling.
Tifa stood alone in the middle of the room, breathing heavily.
Then she heard applause.
She turned around.
Master Zangan stood at the edge of the arena, clapping his hands.
“Bravo, Tifa! Bravo!”
A tired smile appeared on her face as she walked toward him.
“It could have been better,” she began. “I lost focus because of—”
“You don't have to apologize.”
Zangan interrupted her gently.
“Not to me. Not for that.”
Tifa looked at him.
She was truly grateful for her master.
For his patience.
For everything he had done for her.
Then another man entered the training hall.
An older gentleman with gray hair, golden eyes, and a small pair of black spectacles perched on his nose.
He wore a black-and-green suit and carried a cane that clicked softly against the metal floor with every step.
“That was quite an impressive display, Miss Lockhart,” he said.
Tifa immediately recognized him.
Professor Ozpin.
Headmaster of Beacon Academy.
“From what I have seen,” Ozpin continued, “and from everything Master Zangan has told me, I am convinced that you are more than ready.”
Tifa's heart began to race.
“Does that mean... I passed?”
“More than passed.”
Ozpin smiled faintly.
“I hereby approve your enrollment at Beacon Academy.”
Tifa's eyes widened.
Then she broke into laughter and tears all at once.
She had spent years training for this moment.
And now, she had finally achieved her goal.
She felt Zangan place a hand on her shoulder.
He smiled proudly.
But Tifa's thoughts soon drifted toward someone else.
(I did it, Cloud. Wait for me... wherever you are.)
She took a quiet breath.
A peaceful, satisfied smile spread across her face.
Fade to Black.
T _ _ _
Tifa Lockhart