fic: eir's tomorrow (ff7) - ch.7

[jukeboxhound_backup]

Slightly revised version.  Short explanation here.

Eir's Tomorrow
Chapter 7

Author: jukeboxhound 
Co-conspirator/beta: artimusdin 

FF7 || R || Sephiroth/Cloud || chapter: 7,460 words
The Planet isn't willing to let death take away its greatest weapon. If Cloud can't save the past, then he'll be damned to watch history repeat itself.

7.

"His first name is Cloud. 'Cloud Strife.' Odd as it is, it has a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Doctor, it does," Sephiroth murmured aloud, staring at the door that had just closed behind the doctor. After a moment of stillness, he whirled back around for the file on his desk and flipped through it so forcefully that several papers fluttered to the floor.

And there it was: the headshot that every ShinRa employee, from the President to the lowliest recruit, was required to have in his or her file. An unsmiling face with hair as wild as a chocobo's crest stared up at him from the glossy page. It was the face of a boy that could hardly be called more than a child, but the features were unmistakable, particularly when Sephiroth had traced them over and over in his memories since the day he'd woken up and found his angel had deserted him.

Years ago, the sound of his door opening and several of Hojo's assistants crowding in had immediately woken him. A young Sephiroth had just slid to his feet when Hojo himself entered, followed by the scarred Turk that had taught him everything he knew of the sword. Some of the assistants were already packing up the boy's texts and scant few possessions when Hojo spoke.

"We're leaving, boy."

"Where?"

"We're moving to my lab in Midgar. This one is no longer sufficient for our needs."

"What about Professor Gast?"

Hojo's expression was unmoved, but at the time, Sephiroth was too young and sheltered to pick up the smirking undertone. "He's disappeared. A pity, given his contributions to science."

"But…Miss Ifalna?"

"She was found trying to steal a highly important specimen. She's been dealt with."

And as Sephiroth was herded from the lab he'd grown up in and loaded onto a vehicle bound for Midgar, he prayed for the first time in his life. He prayed for Cloud to wrap his arms around him and take him away from Hojo, because he knew even then that Gast had been the only shield between him and the other doctor. He prayed to see a flash of feathered white, or to hear the angel's quiet voice in his ear saying it'll be all right, I'll protect you.

A few years later, when three mako-infused boys on the verge of adolescence developed wings of their own, Sephiroth felt something in his already hardened heart crack. Genesis once asked why he couldn't stand to look at the beauty that made them so unique, but Sephiroth had answered with the sharp edge of the Masamune and Genesis, for all his insensitivity, never asked again.

...

For several days following his unexpected meeting with Aeris, Cloud saw neither hide nor hair of Elena. At first he hardly noticed, caught up as he was in weighing his options of how to move forward in weakening ShinRa, but slowly the lack of an enthusiastic, often disturbingly sly, presence at his side became distracting. It was the absence of Zack or even Tifa in his life, he told himself unconvincingly. Not Elena.

But when he tried to meet Elena's eye during gunmanship exercises and she unsubtly avoided him, he decided he'd had enough. The moment Sergeant Tokka turned his attention onto a hapless cadet that could hardly tell butt from barrel on a rifle, Cloud surreptitiously wedged his way in the line next to Elena.

"You're gonna get us both in trouble," she hissed at him.

He let it roll past. "What's wrong?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

They were whispering from the corners of their mouths, facing forward so as not to disrupt Tokka's thorough humiliation of the poor recruit.

"Why're you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," Elena growled, lowering her voice again when Cloud nudged her in the side. "I'm not avoiding anyone. What do I have to avoid, huh?"

Cloud arched an eyebrow in a way stolen straight from Vincent, and she happened to catch it in her peripheral vision. She flushed slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about, now shut up before you get us both onto toilet duty."

Even if Elena hadn't been so obviously lying, her refusal to admit anything was wrong when she normally couldn't keep quiet to save her life was like a red flag waving in Cloud's face.

"Does this have anything to do with the other night – "

"Strife!" Sergeant Tokka called out, "I see you have something to share with the class."

"No, sir, I'm sorry, sir," Cloud replied as demurely as he could, but of course, that wasn't enough for the ill-tempered officer.

"Speak up, Strife, we're all listening! Or were you too busy last night to work as hard as the rest of us?"

The sexual implication wasn't lost on him. Frustrated with Tokka's petty cruelty, Elena's distance, and pretty much the whole Planet in general, Cloud threw a perfect salute and said in a clear voice, "No, sir, not at all, sir. I was merely remarking upon your own prowess, sir, given your high position and otherwise absolute lack of talent. I also wanted to offer my condolences, sir, as your constant criticism of everyone's performance but your own indicates a psychology deeply traumatized by years of seeing other people achieve what you yourself failed at. I'm sure SOLDIER is all the less without your company, but fortunately, we useless canon-fodder recruits have you to keep us in our place. Sir."

There was stunned silence among the squad. Elena let out a breath that sounded like a dying animal. Cloud smirked in a way that would have done Kadaj proud.

Two and a half hours later, he stood in Commander Gysahl's office with ringing ears.

"Strife," the officer said dryly, "I admit, I wasn't expecting to see you again anytime soon after our last discussion."

The blond held himself straight and didn't reply.

"I've heard that you were rather insubordinate to your sergeant."

When Cloud still didn't reply, Gysahl sighed and put his elbows on the desk with his chin resting on laced fingers. "Strife, I took a look through your file. You've been written up several times for insubordinate behavior, most of which seems to be antagonism towards Sergeant Tokka. Perhaps I misjudged you, Strife. I thought you were determined to prove to myself and ShinRa that despite your unique condition, you were suitable for SOLDIER. Obviously, I was wrong."

The boy tensed. "Sergeant Tokka – "

"Is your superior officer," the commander cut in smoothly. He didn't have to raise his voice to make his words cutting, "and yes, complaints have been filed against him before. But Strife, you're achieving nothing but black marks on your record, marks that you can ill afford, as well as demonstrating a willing inability to work as a team with your squad. Are you going to allow personal dislike to affect your performance in the field? Is your apparent maturity simply childish stubbornness?"

"…No. No, you're right, sir," Cloud said quietly, feeling like an unpleasant shock had thrown him back to earth.

He jumped when the commander suddenly snapped, "Damn right, Strife! I've half a mind to block you from taking the SOLDIER exams if this is an example of your self-control."

Having been the leader of a misfit group before, he understood very well where the older man was coming from. He said calmly, "Sir, may I have permission to speak freely?"

Gysahl stared at him for a moment with tired blue eyes before murmuring, "You have it."

"Sergeant Tokka has continuously implied my being slotted for the SOLDIER exams as the result of sexual favors. He is sexist, condescending, and verbally undermines the morale of his squad. He is not a leader, just a bully who takes out his failure in the SOLDIER program on the recruits."

Nothing else was said for a long moment. Finally the commander sighed. "I can't do anything about his overall behavior, but even ShinRa can't afford to allow sexual harassment. I'll look into it, Strife. In the meantime, I'm putting you on probationary status within the SOLDIER recruitment program. At the end of the four months between now and the preliminary exams, I'll review your records and decide then whether I'm going to allow you to take them.

"I'm serious, Strife. You're the first cadet we've had with mako exposure beforehand, and I'm sure you understand what I mean when I say that we don't want the mako showers to trigger something dormant in you. This is new and potentially dangerous ground."

"I understand, sir," Cloud replied softly. And he did, intellectually; it wouldn't look good if one of the cadets started mutating or going crazy because the SOLDIER treatments tipped the balance of mako in his body. But all this jumping through bureaucratic hoops chafed, like having a voice over his shoulder constantly nagging and criticizing. Though the circumstances of being able to act on his own in a past life hadn't been worth the price, he'd never really appreciated the freedom to do so.

"Dismissed."

After the boy left, Commander Gysahl rubbed at his temples wearily. Life had to maintain some semblance of normalcy in the scandals that were taking over SOLDIER, but as one of the officers of the regular army that acted as a liaison with Lazard's department, the stress was beginning to become overwhelming.

He glanced at the clock. And he had a meeting with Sephiroth in an hour.

The SOLDIER First had insisted on meeting in Gysahl's office, citing a desire for an excuse to walk around. When Sephiroth showed up, Gysahl smiled and gestured to a chair.

"Hello, General. Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, Commander," said Sephiroth, moving with the creak of well-worn leather and the grace of a cat. The Masamune was tucked away outside of missions and training, but the man didn't need it to be intimidating. "Long day?"

Gysahl snorted at the wry question. "Aye, but at least the problems of the Regulars tend to be more about ammo shortage and having to backorder new uniforms."

Sephiroth snorted in return. "Indeed. Sometimes I wonder if I'm in the wrong career."

"Somehow I don't think you'd manage as a kindergarten teacher."

"Ah, perhaps I should contact your relatives. Chocobo breeding always did sound wonderfully mundane."

The commander laughed outright. "Touché, General, touché. And as enjoyable as this banter is, I'm afraid I asked you here for an official reason."

Sephiroth raised a hand, cutting him off. "Let me guess. Does it have something to do with a cadet named Cloud Strife?" When Gysahl arched a brow, he continued, "Doctor Libra came to me a few days ago. He said that Strife had had contact with mako as a child and was slotted to take the SOLDIER exams. He seemed certain that Strife would pass them."

Gysahl gazed at the SOLDIER for a moment, wondering what his instincts were telling him was there behind Sephiroth's inscrutable façade. "I reviewed Strife's scores, and if he were to continue as he's doing now, then yes, he would pass them. But you know better than anyone that it takes more than talent with a sword to be a SOLDIER."

"Yes," Sephiroth agreed quietly.

"I admit that in the few times I've spoken with him, Strife already stands out. He's unusually mature for his age and more driven than troops twice as old."

"An effect from the mako?"

"Possibly. But lately he's been getting written up for insubordination. It makes me wonder how effective he'd be in a unit, whether Regular or SOLDIER."

SOLDIER was a notoriously difficult program to enter, and the few that passed the exams were becoming part of an elite group more tightly knit than any other in ShinRa except perhaps the Turks. While a certain amount of independence was welcome, being able to play well with others, particularly others with varying degrees of eccentricity and inhuman strength, was rather important.

"What would you suggest, then?"

"Putting him on a mission," Gysahl said promptly. Sephiroth blinked slowly.

"You think it wise?"

"No," the commander replied dryly, "not at all. The risk of being accused of favoritism is always a factor. But as I've said before – "

"This is a unique case," Sephiroth finished.

"Indeed."

There was a pause before the SOLDIER nodded sharply. "I will take a look at the mission itinerary."

...

When Cloud got back to his barracks, it was empty. He let his bag fall to the floor and flopped onto his bunk with a long sigh.

Better get your head out of your ass, Strife. You're fucking up fast. Oddly enough, the thought came in Cid's voice.

Cloud gave himself one more minute of lying with his arms spread-eagled, staring up at the springs of the mattress above him. Then he pulled himself upright and slid to the floor beside his bunk with a light thump, folding his legs and taking a deep breath.

"All right, Strife," he muttered aloud, closing his eyes and taking another breath.

Remember the nine virtues, his mother had told him. Courage. Truth. Honor. Fidelity. Discipline. Hospitality. Industriousness. Self-reliance. Perseverance.

He'd been letting the pressure get to him, Cloud now understood, letting the stress of everyday life slowly pull him down until he was as tightly wound as a spring and ready to lash out. He'd already lashed out at Vincent, to an extent, and considering the Turk was the only other person who understood the situation, that was pretty fucking stupid on his part.

Vincent had been right, naturally. He couldn't use the Planet to simply wipe out ShinRa, not unless he wanted a replay of Meteor and Geostigma and perhaps the Plague all at once. (Odd, wasn't it, that for a brief moment he'd been capable of the same destruction as Sephiroth.) The Planet was a tidal wave: once it gained momentum, there was nothing that could stop it, and anything caught in its path would be completely destroyed. It was why the Plague had led to utter annihilation, as the Planet had thrown too much of itself into the fight against Jenova's remaining poison to stop itself.

So, that plan of action was out, he concluded wryly.

Which meant that this would be a battle of human wits and resourcefulness. AVALANCHE would be a useful tool, it suddenly occurred to him, as well as the Wutaian resistance. He didn't recall much of an interracial issue from Before, but he could make the best of it now. Vincent, of course, had already inserted himself into the latter's organization.

If I can contact AVALANCHE, perhaps it can work together with Wutai.

Cloud let his head fall back against the side of his mattress as he turned the burgeoning idea over, looking for strengths and flaws. AVALANCHE and Wutai both wanted to see ShinRa fall, but there was still the problem of a cultural divide. Then again, Yuffie hadn't hesitated to insert herself into Cloud's party…

He set the idea aside to worry over when he couldn't sleep. He needed to focus on things he could do now. Like learning why Vincent had thought it important enough to mention the tension between ShinRa departments when Cloud had first come to Midgar. Who Vincent's contact within SOLDIER was. Figuring out what Hojo meant to do if Jenova's cells weren't responding like they used to. Not to mention…who were Angeal and Genesis? How the hell were they considered to be at Sephiroth's level? Vague remembrances of overheard conversations when the Planet had still been molding and shaping his soul told him nothing.

But thoughts of Hojo and what he'd done to Sephiroth (and Zack, and Vincent, and so many others besides) made Cloud think of the two data discs in his possession. His eyes flicked towards one of the nearly unused textbooks on his dresser, where he had glued the thick endpaper to the back cover with the thin discs in-between. After Elena had so casually filched them, Cloud hadn't been able to rest until he found a new place to hide them.

I should give Ifalna's shawl to Aeris.

There was always a possibility that if Cloud could discredit Hojo, then the SOLDIERs – which were under his direct medical control – might reconsider their loyalties to a company using them as human test subjects.

(Simply killing Hojo wouldn't work; it would just leave room for another scientist of like mind to take his place. No, he first needed to be humiliated.)

Cloud blinked. It looked like he was going on recon that night after lights-out.

...

He got as far as the hallway outside his squad's barracks before there was a hand on his shoulder. Twitching in the orange light of the emergency signs, Cloud barely refrained from putting his army-issue knife through Elena's eye.

"Anyone ever told you you're really jumpy?" she hissed, long hair messy from shoving it into a hasty ponytail. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oh, for Hel's sake," Cloud muttered, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her into the nearest bathroom.

"Cloud, this is a men's toilet, what the fuck – "

"Why are you following me?"

Her expression was childishly mulish as she jerked her arm away. "I already know you have trouble sleeping, but this is the first time you've actually snuck out. Why wouldn't I follow you? Besides, it's not like you care what I do!"

Cloud paused, realizing that there were deeper issues here. "Why have you been avoiding me? And don't give me that 'I don't know what you're talking about' bullshit, just tell me."

"Gods, you're such a – a guy!" Coming from her, this was a dire insult. Cloud waited for Elena to explain, and wasn't disappointed. "We got drunk and did, you know, all that, but we're not even dating and, and…"

Sudden guilt turned his stomach. "Elena, was I your first in doing 'all that'?"

"No, there might've been one or two other boys that I, like, fooled around with, but they weren't friends. It was just curiosity, it wasn't like they meant anything – " She stopped abruptly and flushed tomato-red.

Way to let your own issues hurt your friends yet again, Cloud snarled at himself, and wondered if all the women in his life were doomed to be consistently hurt because of him. Sex had never been anything special to him, just another type of physical release, a way of being hurt, a reminder of being human, but he'd forgotten that this wasn't a dying, post-war world. "Elena, I like you, but…not like that." She made a miserable little sound, making him wince. "I never thought that anything like that would happen, but it did. I don't regret it, but…there you go," he finished lamely.

"You're an asshole," she muttered, staring down at her shoes. He winced again.

"Um. Yeah."

There was a very awkward silence. When Elena slowly smiled, it was a little weak, but it was still there. "Does this mean you're my gay best friend?"

"Wait, what?"

The girl snickered at Cloud's bewildered expression. "Come on, you've got a pretty young blonde wanting to do the nasty with you, and you're all, like, moral and shit."

He stared at her until she just shook her head and slung an arm over his shoulders. "Um, does this mean we're good?" he asked tentatively.

"Nope," she replied carelessly, "I'm going to hold this over your head and guilt-trip you into doing illegal and downright immoral things. If you're too honest to take advantage of me, then I'm gonna use that to my advantage. And I was serious when I said brunets are way more attractive than other blonds."

"I see," he muttered drolly. Inwardly, his guilt was taking another firm romp around his stomach. He wasn't fooled by Elena's sudden lightheartedness, but she was unlikely to ever admit to her hurt over this ever again, and all he could do now was give her privacy and space.

"…If I'm your gay best friend that's not gay, what does that make you?"

"An incontrovertible fool," she answered briskly. Cloud glanced sideways at her.

"…Dyke."

"Fag."

They smiled at each other.

"So now that you've gotten your head out of your ass and we're friends again, you get to tell me what you're doing sneaking around after curfew."

"Elena, just go back to bed."

"It's something illegal, isn't it?"

"Elena," Cloud said seriously, and his sudden tone made her visibly wilt. Guilt came back to wave hello.

"So it really is something illegal."

"Elena, I'm just going to take a look at the class scores. You know how much I want to be a SOLDIER, and I'm screwed if I don't pass the prelims."

"Give me a break, Cloud, I'm not that stupid," Elena growled, making a sharp gesture and nearly smacking the bathroom mirror. "We both know that all the sergeants except Tokka worship the ground you walk on. Did you know that Lisam was telling the sergeant of Squad Forty-Three that he thinks you're the next Zack Fair? And everyone knows that Fair is practically a miracle, going from jungle-boy recruit to SOLDIER Second in, like, two years."

Well, no, he hadn't known that, and anyway Elena had a talent for picking up the gossip that seemed restricted to everyone else. Really, Cloud should've known better than to try wasting the time lying to her.

"Please, Elena, just go back to bed. This is something I need to do on my own."

Something in his tone must have gotten through to her because she visibly hesitated, casting her eyes around the otherwise empty bathroom uncomfortably. But then she shook her head, squared her shoulders, and told him, "Cloud, you're my buddy – no, my friend. You're too quiet and serious and ridiculously narrow-minded sometimes, and you're blond and male, for that matter…and I seriously think you're a closet faggot, because seriously, here I am practically throwing myself at you…"

"Thank you, Elena."

"…but that doesn't mean I'm gonna let you go off and risk your short little self without some backup. You're my gay best friend and if you think you'll have all the fun without me, I'll nail your balls to the cafeteria notice board."

They stared each other down.

"I also know you're hiding shit and that it has something to do with those two data discs I found. I don't know where you hid them, but trust me, I'll find them eventually."

Elena's openness about potentially blackmailing him was actually reassuring; it meant he'd know when it was coming. But the question was whether or not she could be trusted with the information he was planning to go after.

Is it so bad to ask for help? whispered his mother's voice. Sometimes being strong means knowing when you need it. And her talent with computers would make it all the easier, since Cloud couldn't rely on his familiarity with future technology to keep him in the game forever.

"Fine, but promise me something."

Her eyes lit up with the promise of illicit adventuring.

"I'm looking for information that could get us both killed if we're discovered," he said bluntly. "If you tell anyone, or even hint at it to someone else, ShinRa will hear about it. And Turks won't hesitate to make us disappear."

"Cloud – "

He took her by the shoulders and held her gaze, willing her to understand that this wasn't just him being melodramatic. "Elena, I'm serious. There's a reason I never told you why I went into the SOLDIER program. If you come with me, you have to promise that you won't so much as breathe about it."

Her eyes were wide. Timidly, she asked, "Cloud, have you ever killed anyone?"

There was a long silence.

"O-okay," she said shakily, "I promise."

"You have to mean it, Elena. You can't just blurt this out."

She narrowed her eyes and drew herself up to her full height, which happened to be a good inch taller than him. "I can handle it, Cloud. I'm gonna be a Turk. And if I fuck up, which I won't, then you've got your blackmail on me anyway."

Knowing the family member of a Turk could put the company in a very sticky situation indeed, if he'd been the type to consider using her against her sister. "I'm looking for information on Hojo," he finally told her quietly.

"That creepy professor guy that follows Sephiroth around like a deranged puppy?" she whispered back, and to her credit, she looked completely serious. "What on earth do you want with him? Isn't he the main doctor for the SOLDIERs or something? He looks like he was spawned by a sewer rat."

Cloud snorted out a laugh before he could stop himself. "Yes, him. Hojo was part of the team that discovered the process for creating SOLDIERs. After another scientist named Gast was killed, he was instated as head of the science department."

"So?"

"He's a narcissistic sociopath that experiments on humans. How do you think they figured out how to make SOLDIERs?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times.

"Still want to know?" he asked dryly.

"Hell yes!" Elena cried. "What kind of experiments? Why hasn't he been caught yet? How the fuckdo you know about all this? I mean, no offense, Cloud, but unless you really have been blowing all the higher-ups…"

"I can't tell you."

She eyed him shrewdly. "Can't, or won't? Because like you said, just what you've told me is enough to get you dragged out and shot."

"Both."

Visibly struggling with that answer, she finally huffed, "Fine, at least you're honest about it. Asshole."

As they crept out of the restroom, Elena kept sneaking glances at Cloud. He looked like Cloud, with those unfairly blue eyes and the scrunchy little frown line between his brows, and as far she could tell he hadn't ever lied to her. But what was he up to, and who was he working for? Was 'Cloud' even his real name? She knew it was too fake to be true.

Unlike the dimmer dormitory hallways, the main corridor was lit by a stark fluorescence that made them blink owlishly. "Pretend we're going on duty," Cloud whispered, hardly moving his lips. Elena shook her head slightly and clucked her tongue as they walked.

"Amateur," she sighed and, with the slightest glance at a security camera tucked near the ceiling, grabbed Cloud by the shoulders and planted her lips on his.

"Wha – " was all he managed.

"A guy and a girl cadet, sneaking around after hours? If they catch us, they'll just think we were fucking around and give us a warning, at most."

She pulled back, flashed him a smirk, and made a show of straightening her ponytail before she walked away. It took a moment before Cloud was able to shake his head and catch up.

They managed to pass through the main floors without incident, mainly through Cloud's talent at slinking around; obviously he'd made a point of memorizing the locations and timing of each security post and camera. On the occasion they were spotted by a couple guards, Elena's fast mouth and flirtatious smile got them past.

"You know, I bet you could do that too," she murmured to Cloud as they ducked around the corner, "you've got the eyes to do a bit of good fluttering – "

"Fuck you," Cloud muttered. Sensing a nerve, Elena grinned but let it drop.

Eventually they made it near the elevators. When she started towards them, Cloud took her elbow and shook his head, instead pointing towards the door that led to a computer lab. It was the sort of lab that had rows of computers where cadets and lower-ranked officials could conduct their business, but given the time of night a cadet's card wouldn't be enough to get them past the doors.

"But Cloud, we don't have a passcode," she hissed.

Then Cloud held up a keycard with a decidedly vicious smile and replied, "The tall one never felt me take it."

(It hadn't been Yuffie that taught Cloud such a skill, however, but Neo-Midgar's orphans.)

"Cloud, I could kiss you again," she cried, clamping a hand over her own mouth when she realized that she'd all but yelled. The two waited a few tense moments, but no one came running.

Rolling his eyes, Cloud swiped the card and was slipping inside the moment the door opened. He started booting up a computer in a corner, where the glow faced a blank wall rather than a window, while Elena prowled around in restless curiosity.

"Why here?" she called out softly, casting her eyes back at the door every so often. It wasn't like ShinRa was stupid enough to give cadets access to computers that were linked to any kind of important information without loads of firewalls and gods knew what else. She wondered if any guards would believe her if she claimed they just wanted to download some porn. But Cloud didn't answer, his face eerily lit by the glow of the screen and his fingers clicking quietly across the keyboard.

"Elena, come here, I need your help," and she hated herself a little bit when her heart jumped a bit. She took his seat and peered at what he'd pulled up. "Are you in the financial department? What the hell for?"

"Because that'll tell us how much money is going to each department," he said softly, leaning over her shoulder and staring intently at the screen. "It'll give me a starting point."

"Uh, how?"

"If Hojo's working on a big project, there'll be increase in funding, right? Then it's a matter of figuring out which lab it's being directed to, which in turn would give us an idea of what he's working on."

If she was impressed by his cleverness, she'd sooner shoot herself than admit it.

Because the information wasn't considered very sensitive, it wasn't difficult to find a way into the company's financial records. Elena's sister had given her a few pointers before they'd stopped talking, and then her sister had been given an assignment in Wutai.

"Hold on," Cloud said suddenly, leaning over more closely.

[Year X: ALLOTMENT/Monthly – R&D: SOLDIER Program, 1. Project LAZARUS – ₲200,000,000]

"Two hundred million gil on a single project?" she asked dubiously. "That's a lot for this kind of thing, right?"

Cloud looked shaken, which was disturbing in itself. "Yes, it is. Usually that kind of money only comes with the bigger stuff."

"'Bigger' as in 'human-sized' bigger?" she asked quietly, and felt herself pale when he nodded.

"It's not surprising, since it's listed under the SOLDIER program."

She shuddered. "Weird name, too. Doesn't it have something to with resurrection?"

"What?"

"I dunno, I think I remember hearing it used somewhere. Something to do with resurrection. Oh, but I guess you wouldn't hear that kind of thing way out in Nibelheim, huh?"

It was Cloud's turn to go pale.

"Cloud, you okay?"

He was abruptly logging them off the computer, casting glances out the lab to where the next nightshift would soon begin. "I think I know where to start looking now."

…

Elfreda wasn't quite sure what to make of the man sitting in her kitchen and sipping tea. Everything from his almond eyes and olive skin, his quiet reserve and impeccable manners, were all things she wasn't used to; they made him seem other to her.

Not that that bothered her. After all, her son was practically a god and her family had worshipped a deity of chaos and destruction for centuries. Such things tended to put one's judgments in perspective.

So she chattered away in the kitchen with a wooden spoon in one hand, occasionally rapping Fenrir's nose when it got too close to her fresh bread. And all the while Zangan was having very similar thoughts of his own. Elfreda Strife was a person of dreamy, cheerful madness and incredible stubbornness, the latter of which was likely the only similarity she shared with the rest of the town.

"Oh, my grandda' would've remembered when the reactor was built," she had told Zangan when he helped her back to her cottage from the ruined mansion. "It's what brought all the villagers, you see, their own grandda's were employees that brought their wives and families with them to the mountains. Bit of a shock, I imagine, finding yourself at the edge of the world before Hel's gates!"

She'd laughed, then, and even though Zangan didn't know her gods, he had smiled at the thought of foreigners suddenly wondering what they'd gotten themselves into. That was something he could understand very well, on both sides of the equation.

When Elfreda laid down a fresh loaf and another pot of tea on the table, the martial artist asked, "What do you think of the altar?"

"Oh, it's a beautiful piece of work," she gushed, clasping her hands around one of the many necklaces strung around her neck, "it's such a pity that it's not aboveground anymore."

"It used to be?"

"Of course! You don't hide your prophecies, do you, otherwise what would be the point of making them?"

Good, solid rural practicality, Zangan thought with kind amusement. The bread was warm and soft, though grainy, and he could tell that the butter had been handmade by Frauke, the herder's wife. Amid her constant fluttery, birdlike movements, he was able to see that the pendant Elfreda's hands were fiddling with was a small, flat stone with a glyph carved into its face. It was the same kind of glyph that decorated the old altar below the mansion's ruins.

"I do hope the gods won't be angry," Elfreda murmured thoughtfully as she added a good amount of amber liquid from a small flask into her tea. "The winter months are hard enough without one of them throwing a tantrum and bringing the mountains down round our ears."

"Wouldn't speaking of them like children be enough for that?" Zangan pointed out, and she laughed.

"You're far too serious, Mr. Zangan, the gods need a good bit of ribbing every once in a while, take their minds off immortal things for a time. Besides, they've seen the loyalty in my heart of hearts. You're the one that brought foreign gods here, you know. At least the other villagers believe in science, so there isn't much competition."

She sounded matter-of-fact, not accusatory, despite the pointed nature of her words. She spoke like someone who gave her gods a healthy amount of respect but nevertheless saw their flaws as well. "You're saying I brought my gods with me?" he asked.

"Well, didn't you? I'm no expert on these things, but I don't imagine an ocean and some land is going to be enough to stop your gods from following one of their own. What a silly thought! Otherwise all I'd have to do is cross these mountains and the Aesir themselves wouldn't be able to catch me!" One of Elfreda's hands stroked the scruff of Fenrir's neck, occasionally slipping him pieces of unbuttered bread. The large Nibel wolf sat like a well-bred dog, his eagerness only betrayed by the steady thumping of his tail and the way he seemed to inhale rather than chew his scraps.

Zangan sipped thoughtfully at his tea, silent for several minutes as Elfreda cooed over Fenrir's improving table manners. Then he said, "My people believe that our land was created when…how you say, the Exalted Male and the Exalted Female dipped a sword into the sea. When they lifted it from the water, the droplets that fell from the blade formed our nation."

"That's very lovely," she told him solemnly. "This land was created by the breath of fire and ice, and the flesh of a fallen giant became all the worlds, his blood our seas and rivers, and his skull our heavens. Oh! And speaking of death, Mr. Zangan, the new year is coming up. Fenrir and I would love for you to join us, there's nothing so depressing as celebrating the new year alone."

Though she was cheerful enough, her expression held an old, lingering sadness that Zangan recognized.

"I would be honored," he replied, and she smiled brightly.

…

Genesis was…displeased.

"I'm telling you," Hollander gasped, "I don't have any of Jenova's cells! The little I had was used up in your and Angeal's conceptions!"

The SOLDIER stared into the small blue eyes of the doctor he had pinned to the wall by the throat. Hollander really was a pathetic man.

"Let him go, Genesis," Angeal said softly, and the unexpected intrusion made his fingers tighten briefly around the doctor's throat, eliciting a weak whimper. His lip curled.

"Isn't it amazing that this is the man who became our father in all but blood?" He allowed Hollander to drop to the floor, and the man immediately scuttled back with a pained grunt. Genesis stifled the urge to kick him, the same kind of urge that drove children to stomp on insects without any real thought; it wasn't kindness that held him back but rather a twisted sense of disdain. This laboratory had been so fascinating to him as a child but with older, jaded eyes he could see it as the escapist retreat that it truly was. Hollander, he mused unsympathetically, was like a squirrel mindlessly hoarding food and then forgetting where he'd hidden it all.

"Killing him won't get us anywhere."

"Perhaps not," Genesis agreed mildly, "but I'm afraid I don't have the same time to be diplomatic that you do, old friend." Every day that passed brought death a little closer; every morning a few more strands of russet-brown hair were greyed.

Angeal's hand on his shoulder provided a strange mix of annoyance and unexpected comfort.

"Contact Sephiroth," he murmured, his breath stirring the smaller hairs on the back of Genesis' neck. "Tell him."

"You always were a naïve fool, even when we were kids and you refused the apples I offered you from my so-called father's land. Sephiroth was never one of us, Angeal. Something broke him inside before I ever got the chance to do that myself."

It would be hilarious if it weren't infuriating: the hero of Wutai, a self-made island in a sea of worshipers because something had shattered that fragile little heart long ago. Neither Genesis nor Angeal ever knew what it was that had kept a wall between them and Sephiroth, not even when they fucked or, dare he say it, made love, and to be quite honest Genesis hadn't particularly cared. It was just one more crack in the hero's cold face that he wanted to pick and claw at until Sephiroth finally fell apart in his hands.

Angeal's hand tightened on Genesis' shoulder until the clavicle threatened to snap. "Don't keep fooling yourself, Genesis, it ruins your image."

He finally shrugged off the hand and stepped away, thinking with cynical amusement that if all this mayhem kept up then Angeal might actually develop a sense of biting sarcasm.

"'When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky'."

…

"Wait, what?"

"Decorum, Strife."

"Sir, sorry, sir, but…what? Sir?"

Cloud knew that Commander Gysahl was smiling at his surprise, but he couldn't get past the reality of this mission to really care.

"You're being put on assignment with SOLDIER Second Zack Fair and Tseng of the Turks," the commander repeated patiently. "In one week, you will go to Banora and assist in the investigation concerning the disappearance of General Rhapsodos and his men."

"Yes, sir, but – but sir, I'm not a SOLDIER," Cloud pointed out numbly. And when did Zack become a Second? His heart twisted to think that he hadn't even noticed such a change in Zack's life. Selfish.

Gysahl looked at him gravely. "No, Strife, you're not. This is a very delicate matter. You've demonstrated the kind of potential that, if trained properly, could make you an incredible SOLDIER, but myself and Sephiroth aren't willing to take chances. This is a test, Strife; perform well, and I will allow you to take the SOLDIER exams. Act poorly, and I'll make sure you never see the mako showers."

Sephiroth…?

Feeling like his head was spinning with the unexpectedness of it all (was it only last night that he and Elena had sneaked into the computer lab?) Cloud quietly replied with a simple, "Yes, sir, understood, sir."

The man's worn face softened a little. "This is quite a burden to bear when you're only sixteen. Just remember your dream, Strife."

Actually, I'm fourteen going on forty. "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

…

Cloud dreamed.

"This Plague is essentially a virus," Nanaki explained, voice crackling through the PHS. Transportation was now impossible between Midgar and Cosmo Canyon, but they hadn't yet lost radio. "Kadaj, Yazoo, and Loz were manifestations of the splintered aspects of Sephiroth, and between Cloud's Tsurugi and Aeris' rain, they should've been destroyed. However, it appears that what we're dealing with are the entirely unintelligent forms of Jenova. Think of her cells as a mindless cancer, spreading and mutating without need for any input from the original host, and you'll have some idea of what's going on."

"So how do we kill it?" Cloud demanded harshly.

There was a dark chuckle. "That's the problem, isn't it? The living show no signs of this infection, it's when the body dies that the inert cells become active and reanimate. How do you kill something that's already dead?"

"Zombies!" Yuffie exclaimed on a third line, nearly incomprehensible through the distance between Neo-Midgar and Wutai.

"But where do the cells come from?" Tifa asked.

"Perhaps that's the wrong word to use," Nanaki amended, "my apologies for bringing that up, Cloud."

The blond grunted.

"It's not a physical infection so much as a…spiritual one. Jenova was able to influence anyone who carried her cells as though the cells were a sort of transmitter for her will, but without a single conscience to hold it all together…it's like breaking the wall of a cell and allowing the fluid inside to spill out, I believe it may be the Lifestream itself that's poisoned – "

"Bullshit!" Barret interrupted with a growl, slamming his fist onto the table. Tifa caught the PHS before it could tumble to the floor of the bar.

Suddenly Cloud twitched, eyes flickering to the northwestern wall. He was already up and moving as he said, "Sector Four. Tifa, make sure the kids are safe. Yuffie, these things attack in waves – make sure you've got every man and woman on alert in Wutai, see if you can get contact with Rocket Town – "

Outside the bar, a few seconds behind Cloud's sudden action, the alarm sirens were blaring.

Outside the city, piles of dead were burning so that the corpses couldn't be used against the living. It stank like hell, and eventually Cloud was one of the only ones left out there, stoically casting Fire until the last bit of flesh was consumed. He would never admit it to Tifa, but sometimes he stared at the flames and wished that he could throw himself onto one of the pyres; wished that the Masamune had taken him down with Sephiroth in the reactor all those years ago; wished that Zack had been a little more reasonable and a little less sentimental and left him to die, comatose; wished that all those close calls with monsters and Sephiroth and the Remnants had been just too close to survive.

Sephiroth wrapped his arms too tightly around Cloud's chest from behind, whispering into his ear, "Why do you keep pretending to be human, puppet?"

"Why not?" he replied wearily, staring at the burning piles of mutilated bodies, and then he was no longer the Cloud from Before but the Cloud that was trying to stop it all happening again.

"Humans always wish they were angels," said a new voice, startling Cloud. Suddenly he was looking up into a face as cold and beautiful as a marble statue, eyes blue and mako-bright. This man was slightly shorter than Sephiroth, dressed in red rather than black, with the sort of cruelty that Cloud had only ever seen at the height of Sephiroth's insanity.

Sephiroth's arms tightened further around him as the stranger shoved a hand into Cloud's chest, snapping bone as easily as twigs, ripping muscle and vein. The agony was so unexpected that Cloud just choked and stared, wide-eyed, as gloved fingers wrapped around his fluttering heart and jerked. Vital things snapped apart.

"And angels always wish they were human."

chapter 6 || main post || chapter 8