fic: eir's tomorrow (ff7) - ch.13

[jukeboxhound_backup]

Slightly revised version.  Short explanation here.

Eir's Tomorrow
Chapter 13

Author: jukeboxhound 
Co-conspirator/beta: artimusdin 

FF7 || R || Sephiroth/Cloud || chapter: 7,850 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.

13.

Zangan couldn't find it within himself to be surprised upon learning that Elfreda had a good singing voice. It was soft but clear, perhaps an ability trained by her longstanding habit of humming or singing to herself during the day.

For him, the New Year didn't start for several more months, nearer the end of winter. But for Elfreda it began at the start of the season, and these last few days she'd been in a high-spirited flurry of action, stocking up several cords' worth of firewood and making berry jams. There was a small cellar underneath the floor of the cottage that had been carved by both herself and Cloud's father, just before the man had died, and the trapdoor tended to remain open as she steadily filled it with preserved foodstuffs and ale. Elfreda had taken advantage of Zangan's presence and made him her official firewood stacker.

So it was that one day Zangan went inside and found the cellar door propped open by the hearth and both Elfreda and Gillian chatting in the kitchen over mashed blackberries.

"Zangan, dear, there you are! I've chilled a pint for you, it's sitting on the table," Elfreda caroled, waving a hand stained deep purple. He smiled in thanks and gave Gillian a brief bow of acknowledgement before seating himself. It wasn't rice or plum wine, but Elfreda had gone out of her way to use apricots from Rocket Town rather than her usual hops.

"I haven't heard from my little Nebel since before his birthday nearly a month ago," Elfreda was saying. There was a furrow of concern between her eyebrows. "He's usually so good about this sort of thing. You don't think he's found a girl, do you?"

"Could be," Gillian smiled, "he's a handsome boy with an accent, the city girls won't be able to resist."

Gillian Hewley had been in Nibelheim for a while, living in the Inn, and already told the story of having met Cloud Strife on one of the boy's first missions. He was very professional, she'd said. He really impressed his superiors. Oh, don't worry, none of the monsters in the area stood a chance against him. Elfreda, of course, had glowed with pride over her little warrior and said something about the Norns; she still wouldn't explain what or who that was, whenever Zangan asked.

"I hope she's a bit older, it wouldn't do for him to be alone."

"What does her age have to do with that?" Gillian asked in confusion, and Elfreda tossed her hair a little.

"I don't want Cloud stuck with a girl that can't even defend herself. How would she protect her family if he's not there?"

Only Zangan saw Gillian's silent sigh and smiled in amusement behind his cup.

"Perhaps he'll find an angel," Gillian teased, but Elfreda just looked her quizzically.

"'Angel'?"

"You've never heard of them?"

When Elfreda shook her head, Gillian, blinking in surprise, said, "I guess they're not so well-known outside the Mideel area and the east continent. They're like humans with wings, only without physical bodies. People say they're messengers of the gods and that they're beautiful and terrible all at once."

Elfreda hummed thoughtfully as she levered a pot onto the stove and turned up the heat to thicken a mass of crushed berries. "So, angels are like," and then she said a word that would tie Zangan's tongue in knots if he ever tried to say it himself.

"I have no idea," Gillian said wryly, and Elfreda's blue eyes crinkled with her grin.

Zangan spent the evening listening to the two women talk, occasionally adding his own tidbits and good-naturedly putting up with their teasing. Elfreda insisted that the two stay for dinner, and afterwards Zangan insisted that it was only fair he clean up. Elfreda accepted and, when she went outside to get a bundle of firewood, he took the opportunity to say quietly, "You're worried."

"Is it that obvious?" Gillian sighed, keeping her eyes on the leftover food she was scraping into storage containers.

"No," he said gently. "What is it?"

She stared into an empty bowl for a long moment. "I left Banora because ShinRa is losing control. Genesis – you know of him – turned traitor to SOLDIER and convinced Angeal to join him. It…wasn't a monster that killed the other villagers in Banora."

He considered putting a hand on her shoulder, but restrained the instinct.

"Cloud was there with his superiors to hunt down Angeal and Genesis, not monsters. He's obviously involved in something. If Elfreda hasn't heard from him…"

"Aah," he murmured. "And now we have Turks in Nibelheim and people trying to rebuild the ShinRa mansion."

"I figured the mansion was just an abandoned country estate when you told me about it, but if they're rebuilding…it just seems like too many coincidences."

"Have you spoken with Cissnei?"

The young Turk had been adopted by first Elfreda and then Gillian, earning the three women a collective reputation in the village that made the other people nervous. Brunhild, the doctor-healer, just sat back in the middle and watched the drama with amusement, saying, The favorite pastime of a small town is gossiping.

"Yes, but she doesn't know much more than we do. Which makes it worse, because why would they keep information from a Turk?"

Zangan had no children of his own, and it wasn't until Cloud had left for Midgar with Tifa following not long afterward that he realized he'd come to see his students as something like family. With what Gillian was saying, his first instinct was track the two down and tie them up in a cave where no enemy could find them.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"I was just thinking that you might do your ninja thing at the mansion and see what you can find out."

She laughed aloud at his exasperated expression. When Elfreda came back inside with her arms full of wood, the two shared a brief look. Zangan felt that he was risking dishonor by not sharing their concerns with her, but all that would be achieved if they did was Elfreda going on the warpath and earning a ShinRa bullet through the head.

Cissnei, meanwhile, was having other concerns on the other side of the village just outside the ShinRa mansion. The sun had only just begun to set, but the mountain peaks were so high that it was already approaching twilight.

"Why wasn't I told about this?" she demanded. The trooper, cowering under the force of her glare, stuttered, "I, I don't know – "

With a frustrated growl she pushed her way past him to the scientist that stood just inside the gates of the estate, directing the construction workers in the growing gloom.

"What's going on?"

"Turk," the scientist acknowledged, and then ignored her. "Don't drop that box, its contents are worth more than your yearly salary!"

Cissnei took the man's elbow in a grip tight enough to bruise. When he winced and opened his mouth to yell at her, she said coldly, "I am the Turk stationed in this village. Why was I not told that the mansion was going to be rebuilt?"

"Maybe it's a matter of trust," the man snarled, trying to jerk his arm back. She didn't release him.

"Not good enough," and perhaps this man was smarter than he appeared, if he could recognize the falsely polite tone of her voice and turn pale. "Let's try this again. Why wasn't I told?"

"I don't know. I'm here on Hojo's behalf to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Abruptly he shut his mouth, but the damage was done. Cissnei's eyes had narrowed at the mention of Hojo's name and her mind was already racing. As a Turk she was well aware of Hojo's human experimentation, though she'd always taken care never to see actual evidence of such in case the company deemed her unnecessary. Hojo had three main laboratories that she knew of: one in Midgar, one somewhere near Mideel and its endless upwelling of Lifestream, and the last…

If they're rebuilding the mansion, it's because Hojo's moving himself to the lab underground. Why? New project? Change in the power structure of the company?

She allowed the scientist (fair hair and hazel eyes, slightly underweight for his height, she noted) to pull away and shoot her a dark look. "You should be more careful, Turk, you never know when you might get the attention of someone you shouldn't have pissed off."

Cissnei was small and slender, cursed with auburn curls and large eyes that made her too cute to be particularly threatening, but she was also strong, and fast, and well-trained, and had had blood on her hands since being adopted into the Turks straight from an orphanage. Her gun was digging into the soft flesh under the scientist's jaw before he could do more than blink at her sudden movement.

"Sound advice," she said pleasantly, and smiled the little-girl smile that once made Zack Fair blush.

The scientist practically scurried away when she lowered the weapon. She let out a long breath, accepting the curl of self-loathing that tainted the moment before letting it go.

The moment Cissnei was back in her room at the Inn, she went straight to her PHS.

"Tuesti speaking."

"Reeve," she said softly, automatically keeping her voice low despite being alone and having already checked for bugs. "It's Cissnei. You're right, there's something going on here. The mansion's being repaired and there are scientists here, it can't be anything but a lab. I don't know how long it's been going on or how far along they are, but it looks like their primary concern is the lowest floor. Maybe a basement too or something, I don't know, I've never seen the layout of the mansion before."

"What do you mean their priority is the lowest floor?"

"They've got the skeleton of the place done, but it's almost like they're just taking their time with the upper floors when they've already finished the first. Like it's mostly for show."

Clicking of computer keys. "That mansion did indeed used to have a lab underneath its foundations. I'm guessing that when Hojo moved out of Midgar he went to Nibelheim. That the mansion is being repaired suggests that the President is entirely aware of his activities and continues to fund him."

"What's going on, Reeve? Why is everyone suddenly so concerned with a tiny village in the middle of nowhere? I mean, first they send a Turk here, then Angeal's mother shows up out of nowhere."

"Gillian Hewley's there?"

She bit her lip. "I take it her arrival wasn't exactly planned then."

"…No, I don't believe so."

"Talk to me, Reeve."

Cissnei idly toyed with one of her shuriken's edges as the silence on the other end of the phone stretched on. Then, "Keep your eyes open, Cissnei. Trust no one from the company except the other Turks. There have been…monsters, these WEAPONs, waking up across the Planet that the SOLDIERs seem to believe have to do with someone's disappearance. Just, keep your eyes open."

"Yes, sir," she murmured, and hung up.

…

Life could be explained by three things: physics, biology, and the mathematics underlying it all.

All matter is a series of binary computations; the intersection of 'yes' and 'no,' the most basic state of existence. Either something exists, or it doesn't. The unique characteristics that define a particular existence can be determined by a specific series of 'yes' and 'no.'

Does this bit of matter have substance and therefore existence? Yes.

Is it sentient and a rational agent? Yes.

Is it organic? Yes.

Is it human?

…I don't know.

Sephiroth stood unmoving at his fifty-ninth story office window.

Biology: Something exists within Sephiroth and Cloud that prevents the former from functioning at full capacity when the latter is not near. May be due to pheromones; may involve psychological factors, as the symptoms worsened after the second exposure to one another and followed the first subject's acceptance of the other subject's existence.

Physics: Emotional stability is proportional to the distance between the two subjects.

Mathematics: Probability predicts that in a given situation certain consequences are either of equal chance or are more likely to occur than others.

Cloud enters basic army training and signs on for the preliminary SOLDIER tests. Two months pass: Doctor Libra comes to Sephiroth with an anomaly in the cadet ranks. Soon thereafter, there is a confrontation in the gym. More time passes; during this interval Cloud presents Sephiroth with a book of fairy tales; Sephiroth comes to accept Cloud's existence in the past and in the present; Zack becomes a surprisingly prominent figure in Sephiroth's own life. Then, the mission to Banora. Almost a year after Cloud's entrance into ShinRa he celebrates his birthday the same weekend that Hojo takes him away.

Away from Sephiroth.

Should've remembered not to get attached to things that can be taken away.

("My only solace from now on will be in the hope that, one day, the great General of ShinRa knows what it is like to lose everything he loves. The hope that he will look to Wutai and see its ravaged country as a mirror to his heart.")

Two weeks pass since Cloud's kidnapping in which Sephiroth could find no evidence of Cloud's whereabouts. He couldn't simply go to every one of ShinRa's many laboratories and science facilities and ransack them, not when Hojo could pick up his new specimen and continually relocate him and make Sephiroth's efforts a waste of time. Too easy for Hojo to find defenses, ways to control Sephiroth's search and behavior.

Two weeks of people flooding the earthquake-damaged streets above and below the Plate, protesting with voice and sometimes with fists. Midgar natives and Wutaian refugees had struck an uneasy truce to focus on ShinRa (the enemy of my enemy is my friend). Cries of tyranny, corruption, exploitation, and genocide rang through the steel skeleton of the city. "We won't let anyone else be the master of our fates!"

Two weeks in which the visions that Sephiroth once had of Cloud as a little village boy returned with a vengeance. Blood and pain and screaming. Every night, fourteen nights, where closing his eyes meant hearing Cloud's inarticulate fear and agony. It was enough to drive a man to madness.

Battle strategy: The power of surprise. Even when one's men were dying. Ruthlessness. Cloud was slowly dying but acting too soon would definitively kill him. If his physical body could be saved then there was a chance, a probability, to heal the mental scarring.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

…

So Elena wasn't the most tactful of people on her best day, but even she could recognize the dangerously-thin tension under General Sephiroth's skin. That made her task rather more daunting, but then she remembered Cloud and the bloodstains left in the corridor that night and she drew herself up to her full height.

"General."

Sephiroth didn't move away from the office window, so still that his long hair never shifted against the black leather of his coat, and Elena was ashamed by her relief that he wasn't looking at her, not with that sort of intensity. Knowing what she knew, now, made facing Sephiroth easier in some ways and so much more difficult in others.

"Sir, I found something in," don't stutter, you idiot, act in control even when you're not, "in Cloud's possessions that I think you might be interested in."

Slight tilt of his head in her direction, not quite glancing over a shoulder. Elena held up two data discs, one labeled Family Pix and the other Mum and Dad's Wedding.

"They're copies of some of Hojo's, uh, experiments."

Finally she was pinned under that intensity, Sephiroth's catlike eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line, and Elena was suddenly very aware of just how tall the man was.

"Where did you get them?"

"Cloud had them since he got here. To ShinRa, I mean. I found them once but he wouldn't tell me what was on them, he hid them and I only just found them – " Damnit, girl, shut up shut up shut up! "I took a look, I thought maybe there'd be something useful on them since he basically threatened to kill me if I didn't leave it alone, and. Uh." Why wasn't there a delicate way to say this? "They're records of Project S and Project CHAOS."

"…And Cloud had them?"

She got the feeling that Sephiroth was only repeating her words in order to give himself a little more time to absorb their content. "Yeah. Well, granted, I had a hell of a time finding them." Cloud's idea to stick them between the endpaper and the cover of one of his Materia textbooks was rather clever. "But, uh, yeah."

One of Sephiroth's black-gloved hands was laid flat on his desk, fingers carefully spaced to give him something external to focus on. "And how much of them did you read?"

"Just enough to know what kind of information it was," she lied.

"What do you want?"

Because of course few people would bring something like this to him without an ulterior motive, and Elena ruthlessly suppressed a flicker of guilt. "I want into the Turks."

"Do you now."

"Look, Cloud's my best friend and I want to find him. I can't, I can't do that if I'm stuck doing drills and classes and all that stupid meaningless shit." She seriously needed to learn how to control her mouth. "But I'd make a damn good Turk, and I can help. Find Cloud, I mean."

"Guilt alone is not enough."

"I was gonna be a Turk anyway, sir." Even she'd had to camp outside Tseng's office door for a year to prove it. "But if I can make a difference now, then maybe I can repay some of the debt I owe Cloud when he was always there for me."

When Sephiroth continued staring at her in that creepy feline way, Elena heard herself starting to ramble a bit. "I think I know where Hojo might've taken him. I found the locations for a bunch of his labs."

"How?"

"With all due respect, sir, the upper-level guards aren't any more immune to a blonde chick than the cadets. So one of the locations was Nibelheim, right, which is where Cloud is from, and yeah, you could argue that Hojo would rather take him to a place where no one's even heard of him – "

"Get to the point."

Elena couldn't help a slight flinch. "So it turns out that Hojo was keeping that Cetra fossil, Jenova or whatever, in that area, maybe 'cause there's a mako reactor there or something, I dunno. Anyway, this guy named Professor Gast used to be stationed there too once upon a time working on Project S with Hojo, and according to some of the old lab reports it's where the SOLDIER formula was worked out. Well, I found – actually, Cloud found it – references to this new project Hojo's got, Project LAZARUS, and the thing is." She paused, fighting off a wave of nausea. "Thing is, it looks like he's using people as test subjects. Something went wrong with the usual way of making SOLDIERs and he's trying to find another method, and the whole medical department knows about Cloud's mako thing – "

"You think that Hojo wants Cloud for this LAZARUS project."

"Makes sense, right? Nibelheim's in the middle of fu – er, freaking nowhere with that Cetra thing and the mako reactor and it's the origin of SOLDIER, and now he's got his hands on someone young and fit with crazy-high levels of mako already in him without causing mako sickness. I can't believe you haven't already combed the Plate above and below, so where else would he take Cloud except Nibelheim?"

"Do you realize that if you're wrong, Hojo will certainly be made aware of our pursuit and find a way to stop us?"

"Well…"

"And Hojo is not above killing Cloud. If he cannot keep the boy, then he'll ensure that no one else can."

Elena huffed, her frustration and worry overriding the general's otherwise intimidating presence. "Better Cloud be dead and not suffering anymore than us sitting around too scared to try."

Sephiroth stared at her a moment longer (dear gods, was this how the Wutaians felt when they realized they had to face him on a battlefield?) before smiling thinly. "Give me those discs and all the information you've found on this new project of Hojo's, and I will speak with Tseng."

…

Reno wasn't having the best day.

Those slant-eyed assholes of Wutai had finally, finally released him under the word given by Valentine (holy shit it's fucking Vincent fucking Valentine, that's both fucking awesome and really fucking creepy), and the first thing he'd done after getting back topside was to take a hot shower. Like, scalding, past the point where his skin threatened to slough off in red peels, because being tied in a chair for several days and shitting in a bucket? Sucked ass. That too-hot-to-handle-but-so-good shower was probably the highlight of his pathetic day.

Well, no, that was a lie. The highlight was having Rufus ShinRa himself calmly lay out to the Turks how his father's company was going to go down, and by 'go down' he meant 'kill the President and take over.' And maybe Reno would've once protested, he had a pretty sweet badass job that had nothing to do with drugs or druglords, but sometime after putting on that blue suit his loyalties had shifted from purely yours-truly to spoiled, wealthy, proud, merciless Rufus himself. Wasn't that a kick to the fucking balls. Rule number one: every man for himself. Except now it was every man for himself and the other Turks and his employer that somehow had turned into some kind of almost-friend when Reno had had his head stuck up his own ass and wasn't paying attention.

Okay, so Reno had somehow wrangled himself into a misfit group of people that probably wouldn't betray him for the next hit of dragon dust or some shit, so maybe that was the highlight. Wasn't everyone that got shit as awesome as that.

Or it could be that in the midst of all this plotting he, Tseng, and Rude got another chick in their ranks (Cissnei didn't count, she was a total cockblocker and off on a mission besides). Cute one, too, short blonde hair and big brown eyes and enough attitude to keep Reno interested, especially when it turned out that Sephiroth himself had recommended her to Tseng and Rufus. Big mouth, but hey, if that translated into the physical side of things then Reno really couldn't complain. That was the highlight. Until he figured out that this blonde girl had the hots for this other girl down in the slums, and suddenly there were whole new heights of erotic potential.

Okay, okay, so Reno's day was actually turning out pretty awesome, what the fuck ever. As long as he got to kill some shit when this so-called revolution went down, he was cool with it. And maybe kick a few Wutaian ninja asses.

The only true downside to this whole situation was, y'know. The Planet trying to fuck them all up the ass with those WEAPONs. And having to deal with Wutaians.

That could put a bit of a sour note in anyone's day.

Then Cissnei called.

…

"Okay, I know this is probably gonna get my ass thrown out a window, but why is everyone so concerned over a single cadet gone missing? He ain't exactly the first, yo."

Tseng cut in before Elena could snarl at Reno. "For one, this Strife boy was one of the more promising SOLDIER cadets," he said calmly as he slotted a loaded magazine into a pistol and placed the gun alongside several others on his desk. "Not only Lieutenant Fair but General Sephiroth as well praised his skill with a blade."

The redhead whistled.

"You've read his medical record, of course, and that alone is enough to push him to the front of the line in entering the SOLDIER program."

"Yeah, yeah, I get all that, but dude, have you seen Sephiroth lately? It's like someone killed his puppy or some shit, yo."

Tseng interrupted Elena's growl again. "Our local Ancient also claims that his disappearance was the prompt for the appearance of the WEAPONs."

"No shit?"

"Indeed."

Vincent watched all of this from his corner of the office. He was once more in his dark leathers and red cape, claw uncovered and resting over the handle of Death Penalty, waiting for the Turks to finish their preparations. Elena was flushed and restless as she loaded explosives under her jacket; Rude was silently checking over their shared firearms while Tseng double-checked; Reno was idly tapping his electromag against a bony shoulder, seemingly as restless as Elena to get moving. The redhead, though a little haggard, had survived his captivity with admirable strength, though to be fair the Wutaian rebels had only kept him under surveillance and never actively abused him. Reno appeared to be of the opinion that everyone had just been doing their jobs, nothing personal about it. Which didn't mean that Reno wouldn't happily shoot any of those rebels if push came to shove, but hey, no use crying over spilt milk and all that. Vincent wasn't sure if that attitude was surprisingly healthy or incredibly repressive, but it was none of his business.

Events were coming to a head and he was already imagining Hojo's blood spattering the golden shine of his claw.

"Sephiroth contacted Highwind yesterday at seventeen-hundred hours, so he should arrive outside Midgar shortly," Tseng told them evenly. "Elena, you will go with Vincent and Lieutenant Fair to rendezvous with Cissnei in Nibelheim. Reno, Rude, you two will remain with me to handle the fallout of Rufus' change in position."

"You sure the timing of all this crap is a good idea?" Reno asked.

"No. All we can do is proceed and plan for every eventuality."

"Well, never let it be said our lives are boring, yo."

Vincent had met with Zack, Sephiroth, Angeal, and Genesis the day before to discuss the practical things. It was pure luck that Sephiroth, whose mind was second to none in retaining details, had remembered ShinRa's former airship captain, once the leader of the burgeoning space program and then tossed aside with his beloved ships. At first Cid Highwind had simply hung up when he realized who was calling him all the way from the eastern continent, and it had taken a good deal of Zack's charisma and Sephiroth's straightforward way of conducting business to convince the man to at least hear them out.

"Yeah, and why the fuck should I help you out?"

"Not only does it give the Highwind another chance to fly, but it's also a flight straight into the face of ShinRa."

"You give me the funds to fix 'er up proper after this and you've got a deal."

"I'll write the check myself."

By then Genesis' hair was almost completely grey and his once-young face scored with lines of age and exhaustion. Angeal had become a hovering constant presence behind his shoulder, never more than two steps away. Zack, youngest of them all, had been torn evenly between the problem of retrieving Cloud and his mentor's obvious distance. Vincent could see the way the young SOLDIER's eyes kept returning to Angeal, looking a little more lost each time when Angeal was entirely consumed with Genesis' deterioration. Vincent himself had been finding it harder than usual to concentrate: Sephiroth could be my son, mine and Lucrecia's, and was the shape of Sephiroth's eyes like Vincent's own or was he looking for signs that weren't there?

So many knots and complications of individual motives, of emotions and drives and desperation that made one person's fate inextricably tied up with another's. One person's decision could so easily change the circumstances of another's and it was downright terrifying to think that not every eventuality could be planned for, that it was impossible to know every decision that a person might make and its ramifications on everyone else. The consequences of free will, Vincent thought without amusement. Or perhaps merely the illusion of it.

So now Tseng and Rude were preparing themselves for the President's assassination and Rufus' ascendancy, Reno and that SOLDIER Third, Kunsel, were going below the Plate, Sephiroth, as the most powerful fighter among them, had no choice but to take a regiment of SOLDIERs and confront the WEAPON that had finally roused itself from the well of Lifestream in Mideel. Only Vincent, Zack, and Elena would be going to Nibelheim to meet up with Cissnei.

"Vincent Valentine?"

The Turk looked to the side without moving his head, watching a blue-suited man with a neatly trimmed goatee and a case in his hands walk towards him down the corridor outside Tseng's office. The man just smiled slightly. Vincent wasn't fooled, kept his body relaxed but prepared.

"My name is Reeve," the man said easily enough. "I want to help you."

"Why?"

"Well, primarily because Sephiroth threatened me with a painful end if I didn't cooperate," came the rueful answer. He added more seriously, "I've been trying to do what I can to mitigate the effects of the other directors, being head of the Urban Planning and Development Department and all. I haven't been especially successful in that regard given how carefully one must tread in the upper echelons of ShinRa, but now my services may prove useful."

Reeve didn't try handing the unopened case to Vincent. Instead he set it on the ground and unlatched it slowly, without any sharp movement, apparently trying to demonstrate the lack of danger. Vincent nevertheless kept one hand on Death Penalty as the director pulled out a plush cat. With a small cape and smaller crown.

"This is a toysaurus AI. An artificial intelligence," Reeve explained as though he pulled robotic animals out of suitcases every day. "It has an adequate level of fighting capability, albeit limited. It's also equipped with a long-range communication radio that will give you permanent access to my private line."

"No explosives?"

All except maybe Cloud would have taken his utterly flat tone at face value, but Reeve seemed to find some humor in it. He laughed a little. "If I had any intention of killing someone, there are far easier and more remote ways of doing so. Besides, the moment I killed any of you I'd have both Turks and SOLDIERs after my blood. I'm a survivor, Mr Valentine, but I'm neither stupid nor heartless."

Vincent arched a brow but Reeve just stared back calmly. Under the collected exterior was a sharp intelligence, no doubt expertly hidden just enough from his own coworkers that he flew under ShinRa's radar. Slight nervousness.

"All right."

The cat in Reeve's arms suddenly twitched and came alive, its tiny mouth curving up in a smile and chirping, "Off to some poor damsel's rescue, then?"

Unable to help himself, Vincent stood there for a moment and just blinked. It hit him at the strangest moments that in losing over two decades of time he'd missed witnessing the advance of technology, and sometimes it was like watching a piece of magic, a small impossible miracle.

"Cait Sith is able to function autonomously, but I can also override his basic personality and communicate directly through him. If you need my help with anything, use him."

"…All right."

If nothing else, the world in which Cloud had woken him was never going to be boring.

…

Sephiroth was too absorbed in his own plans to immediately understand was Lazard was telling him over the PHS.

"Thank you for remaining you, Sephiroth. And I'm sorry."

"I – what?"

Only the dial tone responded.

…

Jonathan Small wasn't the type of cadet to rock the boat, for all of his size. He performed well in the physical training and struggled through his classes on materia and battle strategy, had a bit of a crush on that girl in Squad Forty-Six, and he worried about whether his poppa was treating his momma right back home in Shell Village.

So Cloud Strife had always seemed a little out of reach to him because the guy was intense and kicked ass in training and, hey, even with all those nightmares. Which were scary as fuck. Jonathan had known this one veteran of the Wutai War that lived over in Bone Village, all scarred up his left side from a Fire materia, and rumor had it that he would scream out in the night as though he were still trapped on the battlefield under the weight of his dying comrades.

Why would someone put themselves through that? Jonathan had asked, and one of the older villagers replied, Few of the soldiers are out there for glory. Some had no other path in life, most just want to protect and provide for their loved ones.

Okay, so Cloud was kind of too young to have fought in Wutai. But he did help Elena when Giorge and his asshole lackeys tried to go all rapist-macho on her, and when some of the guys sniggered behind Jonathan's back about his being all brawn and no brains, Cloud was there to glare them into silence. And he could glare, like almost General Sephiroth-level glare, even though he was rather short and round-faced. Really, Cloud was a cool kind of guy, and that vaguely countryside twang of his made Jonathan feel a little less self-conscious of his own.

No one knew what had happened to Cloud two weeks ago except that around the same time Elena and Lieutenant Fair had been found unconscious and bloody in a random corridor. Since Elena was practically glued to Cloud's side most of the time and Fair had started coming round more often lately to visit, it was pretty safe to assume that whatever had attacked those two had also taken Cloud. One rumor said it was the Turks, that Cloud had stumbled over something he wasn't supposed to know and got himself disappeared. Another claimed Cloud himself had gone batshit and taken out Elena and Fair himself before skipping town, which Jonathan thought was absolutely ridiculous. A third, quieter rumor whispered that it had something to do with Hojo. The scientist had always been spoken of in hushed tones, since it wasn't exactly a secret that he'd done something to make Sephiroth what he was or that he'd been one of the developers of the SOLDIER process, and if one thought about it then the moral implications of that were pretty fucked up. Naturally, most people made a point of not thinking about it. Whatever had happened, no one had missed the fact that General Sephiroth had gone from a distant but relatively mild authority figure to someone darker, someone that had conquered a nation before he was old enough to legally drink.

It was incredibly strange to go about his cadet duties with Cloud gone, leaving nine left in their squad, and then again when Elena suddenly got into the Turks, leaving eight. Not that Elena getting into the Turks was a total surprise after her constant monologues on doing so. But when another squadmate, Lee Hamel, was suddenly promoted a few ranks from private to specialist, Small felt rather uneasy. It wasn't that Lee was bad at this army thing, but he wasn't particularly outstanding, either. Not enough to skip a rank or two.

"It's fucked up, man," John muttered, glaring at the empty bunk where Lee had cleaned out his belongings earlier that day. "If they were gonna promote someone from this squad that wasn't Strife, it'd have been Gildas."

"That's not all," Gildas, one of the older cadets, said darkly. "I heard from someone in Squad Twenty-Six that he saw Lee chatting it up with a couple of scientists and officers. I'm thinking Lee was blackmailing someone, or squealing on one of us about something."

"Squealing about what?" Ellis demanded. "It's not like any of us is sneaking girls in here or smoking something or whatever. Well, I'm not," he added with a snort of amusement. "But seriously."

Jonathan's eyes wandered towards the two empty beds where Cloud and Elena had slept. He bit his lip, thinking about those nights where Cloud had woken them with his nightmares, the one time that Lieutenant Fair had burst in and rushed him off to the infirmary, and the way Elena, as Cloud's best friend, had sworn them all to secrecy after running her mouth off.

"You think it's got something to do with Cloud?" he asked shyly, instinctively hunching his shoulders under the attention that swung in his direction.

"Huh," said Gildas slowly, obviously running through the same train of thought that Jonathan had. "Lee was here whenever Cloud had a fit…"

"Wouldn't everyone know about that, though?" John pointed out. "If he went to the infirmary, then the doctors would've had to report any conditions to our officers."

"Not necessarily. Only if the doctor thought something would interfere with a cadet's training or make him a liability to the company."

"And Elena was acting pretty fucking weird about it all, and if anyone knew anything about Cloud, it'd be her," said Ellis.

"You think Lee might've ratted out some big secret of Cloud's and gotten him disappeared in return for a promotion?"

"Doesn't seem too unbelievable," Gildas replied to John. "Lee always did seem kinda jealous of Cloud."

Jonathan thought that was pretty stupid. Why would anyone be jealous of Cloud when he had nightmares that sent him screaming to the infirmary and eyes way too old for his face?

"Cloud was all right, too," Ellis muttered. "Crazy little motherfucker, but man, he could give Tokka a taste of his own bullshit."

Jonathan piped up, "We should find a way to help."

…

Cid Highwind landed outside Midgar in the small hours of the morning, an hour ahead of Sephiroth's estimate. It seemed the man really was a good pilot, one of the best, which only underscored ShinRa's foolishness in letting him go.

The general watched Zack, Vincent, and Elena board the airship with a blank expression on his face. Aeris was going as well, although Zack had fought it as long and hard as he possibly could without resorting to tying her down. Angeal had brought her from below the Plate, looking a little chagrined at his own inability to say no to her, but there was something too serious and implacable in Aeris' eyes (usually so brilliant with cheer but now so dark) to argue.

Angeal and Genesis were also going, but it had less to do with Cloud and more with finding Hojo. Sephiroth kept telling himself Genesis is dying and this is his right, he needs to find Hojo and either kill him or wring answers out of him, but it felt a little too much like being abandoned (again) for him to truly believe it. There was a WEAPON tearing Mideel apart and Sephiroth was the only one capable of destroying it, and only the knowledge that Cloud would be pissed if he ignored it kept him from boarding the Highwind himself. So he watched the airship disappear over the midnight horizon and tried to find that center of cold objectivity that could keep him going through the worst of battles.

It was frighteningly easy to do so.

His PHS rang with Tseng's name lit up in electric blue letters.

"Sephiroth."

"I've received orders to stop your mission," Tseng said without preamble. "Your actions have not gone unnoticed, and Lazard is now missing. Heidegger believes that you and Lazard are in conspiracy."

"Do you know where Lazard is?" Sephiroth asked calmly.

"No. The President is unconvinced that you're guilty of anything more than probing too deeply into Hojo's business, considering your…distaste for the professor is well known. But Heidegger will continue to push for more than just a cease and desist."

"The timing is too convenient."

"Indeed," Tsend murmured. "But since Hojo was so indiscrete as to leave a SOLDIER bloody and unconscious in a public hallway, as well as the protests that have been pushing at the doors, the disappearance of a department director is forcing the President to sit up and take notice."

The phone connection crackled slightly in the silence.

"This is an official order to stand down and stop pursuing Hojo."

Sephiroth smiled faintly. Tseng had technically followed Heidegger's orders to the letter, if not the spirit. "I understand."

A contingent of SOLDIER Seconds and Thirds waited for him back at the ShinRa launch pad, but Sephiroth passed it by and returned to the tower. He was quiet as the elevator took him up to the highest floor, where the President's business office and living quarters took up the entire level. When the general entered the office without knocking, he found himself faced with the President seated at his desk and the primary four department heads standing before him. Reeve, fortunately, acted entirely natural.

"Sephiroth!" the President smiled, spreading his hands wide over his desktop as though granting some sort of benediction. "I take it you heard from Tseng, then?"

"I did."

"Well, then I'm glad you've seen things our way. Now, your men are waiting at the helicopter."

"Mr President, if I may," and there was absolutely no way for him to pretend that was in any way respectful, but at least it hadn't come out derisive, "I have matters I wish to discuss with you. I was told that Lazard has disappeared and I need to know who my liaison with ShinRa will be while myself and my men are abroad."

"Well, me, of course," said Heidegger, puffing up his already expansive chest. Palmer and Scarlet seemed amused. "I am the senior director of SOLDIER, after all."

"You are. The matters I wish to discuss with the President, however, extend beyond your station."

"Now see here, Sephiroth – "

"Calm down, my good man, there's no reason to get upset," said the President with a smile. "Why don't you and the other directors wait outside in the hall while I hear what the general has to say, and if it's appropriate, then I will discuss the matter with you in turn."

Reeve didn't so much as throw Sephiroth an unusual look. When the room cleared out and the door closed, the President said, "So what did you want to talk about, Sephiroth?"

The general could see why ShinRa was playing along. The thought of having General Sephiroth needing him for anything was enough to rouse the President's ambition and sense of control. Not even Hojo had managed to retain full control of Sephiroth. Hand resting lightly on the Masamune's hilt, the general said, "That was very stupid of you."

Then Sephiroth put the Masamune through the President's chest until the tip of the blade hit the floor.

His PHS rang again.

"Yes?" he answered, one hand holding the phone and the other gripping his sword. A choking, spasmodic twitch from ShinRa's dying body sent a shudder down the length of the weapon.

"Sir, the men are awaiting your presence to proceed to Mideel."

"I'm on my way."

He called Tseng.

"The cover story we arranged with Rufus concerning insurgents from below the Plate is no longer necessary. I imagine he'll want to be briefed."

Tseng disapproval was almost audible.

"…I see."

…

On any other day Elena would've been getting on Highwind's nerves by asking question after question, but all she could bring herself to do was busy herself in the ship's armory. There wasn't much there, just some old firearms and a few Molotov cocktails, but it was enough to give her hands something to do in straightening everything and triple-checking the firearms. She was so intent on working the old grease out of grooves that she didn't hear the door shift a little more open behind her.

"Elena?"

"Fucking shit!" She whirled around with an ancient revolver in her hand, lowering the barrel almost immediately after. "Gods damn it. Tifa? What the hell?"

The brunette stood in the doorway, blinking in surprise at all the cussing. "Um, hi," she said.

"Tifa, what the hell?" was about all Elena could get out. They were nearly a mile above solid ground as the sun rose, it wasn't like Tifa could have jumped on board.

Tifa ran a hand self-consciously over her short skirt to smooth nonexistent wrinkles. "I was worried," she said quietly. "I talked to some of the SOLDIERs working under the Plate, they said Cloud was missing. I figured you or Zack would try to go after him."

"So you stowed away on a freaking airship?"

Tifa crossed her arms (Eyes up, eyes up! Elena yelled at herself) and stared back defiantly.

"Tifa, this isn't like Cloud went missing down an alley or something, this is, like, way bigger than that."

"I know that, but it doesn't mean I can't help. Cloud and I have been training together since we were kids, and if you guys are going to Nibelheim then there's no one that knows those mountains than the two of us."

Which was actually a fair point, but it was the principle of the thing. "You don't know what's going on."

"So tell me."

"Trust me, you don't wanna know."

"Cloud's obviously in danger, and important enough, if three SOLDIERs and a bunch of ShinRa employees are taking an airship to Nibelheim," she pointed out flatly.

"First of all, I'm a Turk now. Second, seriously, you don't want to know."

"Elena. Please. It's Cloud, and I. Please."

Why did Tifa have to have those big red-brown eyes and that earnestness and goodness and, well, legs that went up to there. And Elena had to admit that she did want to share, it wasn't like she could talk to Vincent or Cid or one of the generals and Zack was practically vibrating with enough nervous energy to put her teeth on edge, and Aeris had her hands full as it was.

"You know how to make a Molotov?" Elena asked casually as she eyed the supply shelves lining the shelves.

"Um, yeah," Tifa said, confused, and if Elena liked her even more for knowing she could handle explosives, no one could blame her.

"Grab that bottle of turpentine and help me out here."

chapter 12 || main post || interlude i