Section 4

The light broke through the green canopy of leaves, mottling the ground in brightness and in dark. Warm sunlight speckled the floor and filled the forest with its warmth, a welcomed companion for weary travelers. The chill of the North was warded away within the confines of the greenery, for not even the coldest ice could penetrate the pleasant peace that was the forest’s sovereign ruler.

But there was no sound.

No welcomed chirps filled their air, the birds having left for some other place, a better place, long ago. No crickets, no hum of insects buzzing through the shelter of leaves. No rustling of a dull breeze stirring the mottled floor of the forest. It was deathly still, as though that black floor of the woods was slowly choking the life. The small rays of light were not strong enough nor numerous enough to save the comforting noises that accompanied life.

It was a reflection of his soul.

Vincent Valentine stepped over a fallen log which was untouched by the tiny creatures of the forest that gnawed at its bark. His footfalls were soft on the mushy ground, as if the slightest sound, made by man or animal, would disturb the dark silence that hung over the forest like it would a graveyard. Even breathing could disturb it.

He wished that it didn’t have to be like this, but wishes were often wasted on wells and stars; and he had run out of stars to wish on long ago. The silence was his solemnity; it couldn’t be broken by even the loudest noise or the most wicked discord. It couldn’t be shattered by anything short of the voice that he loved telling him that everything would be all right. Everything wouldn’t be all right, that was a child’s wish. Nothing could be all right. Not anymore.

He didn’t know who was blame: her or himself. Surely she couldn’t be at fault. She had been tricked into doing that by Hojo. She hadn’t known what she had done. Or had she? What was it he had told him before she had stepped from the edge and plummeted into the falls? I can make my own decisions. I’m not a child. No, she wasn’t a child. She was far from it. So, if she was at fault, why was it so damn hard not to blame himself for her death? Had she been a coward, or had he just been a failure?

He heaved a sigh, finding himself wishing once again that it wasn’t as it was. But it was. There was nothing he could do about it. So what did he do? He blamed himself. Nothing more, nothing less. There was no point to what he did. There was no logic behind it, no ethics that could justify his actions. It didn’t make him feel good, it didn’t make him satisfied, it didn’t somehow just make everything perfect. There was nothing that he could do that could do that. He did what he could, and he didn’t like it.

His eyes found the back of Cid’s head as the pilot ducked underneath a low branch. He knew what it was like to suddenly have all his dreams shattered like the flimsy crystal one could find in any novelty shop. But he had had his dreams glued together slowly, piece by piece. Vincent couldn’t have that. There was no one left alive who could repair that broken glass. It was destroyed forever, the fragments tarnished and yellow with mold. That didn’t make them any less important or forgotten. The shards still cut him deeply, emerging from the darkest places to slice through him in his dreams and nightmares. And he blamed himself over and over for letting that crystal globe of hope shatter so easily, but he didn’t know who had dropped the glass onto the cold, hard surface of reality. Maybe it had been him, maybe she had done it, or maybe it had been broken by everything. Who really kept that spheroid in one piece for all of life? No one Vincent knew had been able to retain that same crystal dream they had had as children. Not Cloud, nor Tifa, nor Barret, nor Cid. No one. But children were idealists who didn’t know better than to dream.

For Vincent dreaming had lost its appeal long ago. There was nothing for him now. He walked on in silence.

Reeve’s hand was poised over the telephone, hovering above the receiver as though it were a beautiful flower which was irresistible to pick but far too poisonous to touch. Indecision gripped him like an iron shackle. The moment of truth was upon him. This could make or break the Shinra corporation.

“Just make the call,” Reno mumbled, his voice muffled by the cushions on the couch. He was sprawled on his stomach, his head buried. He pushed himself up to look at Reeve though all he could see was the back of the president’s head. “You don’t have anything to lose. Do you actually think that the people in this company care who runs it? All they want is their weekly wages and a lousy pension at their retirement.”

“I don’t know,” Reeve said, glancing back at Reno. “How am I supposed to stop all this madness?”

Reno’s head sunk back to the couch. “You can’t. Restore order in your company, and that’s it. Make the call, say some fancy schlock to raise the hopes of the employees and go back to your normal life. Get on the horn already.”

Reeve smiled grimly as his hand tightened over the receiver of the phone. He slowly brought it up to his ear, clearing his throat. His shaking hand punched a button on the phone, the over system intercom. A loud, monotonous tone reverberated through the entire building, halting all actions, fighting and plain work.

Barret stopped firing his gun arm at the sound of a clear tone which cut over the din. He halted all the fighting with a simple raising of his other hand. All turned quiet as an overpowering voice replaced the tone, quiet yet somehow authoritative.

“Employees, resistance fighters.” Barret easily identified the voice as that of Reeve. He exchanged glances with Red XIII.

“Reeve ain’t a part of this, is he?” he asked. “We ain’t fighting for crap, right?”

Red XIII managed a small shrug that was more of a bobbing of his head and chest as he was standing on his forefeet. “I don’t know. We still need to free Reno.”

Reeve cleared his throat. “For all those who have not yet been notified, Heidegger is dead. He met his unfortunate demise as he lost his balance on a balcony, tumbled over the edge and plummeted to the ground hundreds of feet below him. I cannot say that his was a great loss, nor will I say that I will miss him without lying to you. I am now in control of this company.” There was a slight pause. “And I must say that I am ashamed of all of you.”

Barret exchanged glances with Red again. “What the hell…?”

“I thought I could change this corporation,” Reeve continued. “After looking at the progress of this company in the last couple of days, I see that I am wrong. You can’t change the ethics of others. As my comrade-in-arms told me just a few minutes ago, all the people of this world want is their pay. I could get up here and call you all greedy little losers, and you’d all come back for work for your two gil’s worth. I can’t change that; only you can. But I am ashamed.

“Heidegger and Scarlet were hardly the best people in the world. Their ideals and motives speak less to the people and more towards personal obligations like money and power. And yet you didn’t fight while their slowly sucked away your vitality and livelihood. It makes me sad to see what kind of world we’re slowly creating by letting the evil at heart rule us. This world may not be flawless, it might even be a pit of slime molded together into some crude form, but I believe that it is worth fighting for and worth preserving. I don’t care what you believe, but there are going to be some changes right here, right now. No longer will we drag our hides into work for a piece of gold or a sheet of paper. No longer will we go home silently, our voices lost in the fast-paced chaos of the surrounding world. No longer will we let the tyranny rule our lives and make our choices. If the people of this world can’t be their own, they’d be better dead.”

“What’s your point, old man?!” some employee shouted from down the corridor. ”Who gives a *&#@ ’bout this?“

As though he could hear the comment, Reeve continued on with his little tirade. “My point is not to degrade you nor to make you think that there isn’t a piece of gil in the world that hasn’t been tarnished by evil. My point is that you sit here, day after day, behind your desks or in the generators or in the laboratories letting the man in the leather chair rule your working life. Not anymore. The changes I am making will create a more democratic Shinra. I don’t want to suffer through another crisis like the one today. I don’t want a group of resistance fighters breaking their way into our facilities to rescue anyone from the greasy hands of Shinra evil. There will never be another foible like the ones we used to sport. The new Shinra is now.”

The intercom system hung up with an audible click, but the fighting did not resume. Barret looked back at the people in his group before stepping from his hiding place. The new Shinra is now, Barret thought as he exposed himself to the now friendly foes. I hope ya can put yo money where yo mouth is, Reeve, ’cause if ya can’t then there ain’t no hope for yo train ever getting back ta its tracks.

“They’re coming.”

Aeris turned from the open air window to look back into the darkened room. There was nothing in the room that was alive, nobody breathed a portion of the still air; she was talking to nobody tangible. But it was there. It was everywhere.

She looked back out the window, her gaze skimming over the edge of the forest that was barely visible behind the golden horizon of long prairie grasses. She couldn’t see the trio of people that rested there, but she knew that they were indeed sitting on fallen logs and large boulders on the edge of the wooded area. And he was with them.

She smiled. This would be easier than she had originally intended.

Cid glanced at the blurry, black shape kissing the sky along the horizon. He was barely able to suppress a shudder as an overwhelming sense of dread came over him. The end was near. Why did it have to be like this?

“What is it?” Tifa asked, her voice drawing his attention from the large obelisk surrounded in a sea of gold. He leaned back against the rock, stretching his legs out in front of him. The Flayer, having been washed ashore from the remains of the Gay Boat, was leaning at a gentle slope beside him.

“Nothin’,” he replied. “Just got this feeling of being watched is all.”

“Oh.” There was something there that was left unsaid, but Tifa didn’t press it. A sinking in her gut told her that she’d rather not know, but she was going to find out soon. And she didn’t like that feeling at all.

“Did it work?” Reeve asked, swiveling in his chair to view the Turk on the couch behind him. He swallowed. There was no sound permeating through the still office air, no resounding echo of gunfire.

“How am I supposed to know?” Reno muttered, though it seemed as though he was talking to the sofa’s cushions rather than any person. “I’m not your employee.”

“Well, what did you think?”

Reno rolled over onto his back, his gaze finding Reeve’s. He sighed, breaking the look and staring up at the gray ceiling. “What I think is irrelevant, you do know that. You practically came out and said it yourself. What was that? ‘I don’t care what you believe’?”

Reeve chuckled. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. That was something completely different. I’m asking for your opinion on what I said to them.”

“Oh, well, in that case, you sher talk pwetty.”

Reeve grinned although he wasn’t sure whether it was at the jest or the compliment. Reno broke out laughing, but the chuckles morphed into a groan as he brought a hand up to his head. He immediately sobered. “Seriously, Reeve. You definitely have an eloquent air about you. See, I’ll be the politician, and you can be the poet. You can write all my candidate speeches.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind should I ever get fired from my job here.”

“Yeah, you’re gonna be in trouble with this new democratic out look, huh? Be careful, you might end up as a figurehead.”

“Nah. I was thinking more towards an executive head, me, and heads for other portions of the company. You know, security. I need a good security head, someone who know his way around the trade, someone who knows where the weaknesses in this company lie.”

“What are you insinuating over there, Reeve?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m gonna need help, old buddy, old pal.”

Reno groaned, rolling back onto his stomach. “Let me think about it. Right now, I need about ten aspirins and a week of sleep.”

“I can get some of that Restore Materia, so you won’t look, or feel for that matter, so banged up.”

“I’ve had enough materia to last me a life time.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Absolutely positive.”

“Don’t worry, Mog. We’ll get your stuffing back and get you all sewn up again. You’ll be as good as new.” Cait Sith hopped down the hall, glad that he and his mog were finally on their way out of their prison and into freedom. And, from Reeve’s exciting monologue, Cait Sith could tell that his master was all right. He didn’t know where Reno went. Come to think of it, he didn’t care where the Turk was. He wondered if he should feel guilty for not caring or at least bad. “Oh, well.”

He trotted around the corner only to come face to face with a big foot that nearly came crashing down on his toes. “Ahh!” Cait Sith jumped back to avoid being trampled beneath the large combat boots. He tripped over his mog and fell on his rear. Rubbing it, he looked up at the man responsible for his misfortune. His eyes found the glowering face of Barret Wallace.

“Watch where you’re going!” Cait Sith demanded, crossing his arms across his furry breast indignantly. “To think I almost became the tiny splotch on the bottom of your gigantic shoe!”

“Huh? Cait Sith?” Barret exchanged a confused glance with Elena.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in jail or something?” Elena asked, eyeing the small cat warily. Something was up, and she didn’t like not knowing what was happening.

Cait Sith shrugged, leaning back into his mog. “I broke outta that puke hole. Too sparse. I go for the blue suede shoes and the chicks. Hey, baby, you come here often?”

Elena rolled her eyes, sighing. “Holster it, cowboy. Kitties bore me.”

Yuffie winced. “Ooh. Shot down.” She glanced down the hall. “Where’s the rest of the crew?”

The cat shrugged again. “I dunno. Reno blew a fuse or two and shot down the hall after Heidegger. Reeve followed him, left me here all by my lonesome. Some master, eh?”

“Did Reno kill Heidegger?” Red XIII asked, his tail twitching.

“You wanna tell it to your gossip circle?” Cait Sith asked, though he left little time for an answer. “I don’t know what happened. The only place that has access to the over-system intercom would be the President’s office. You can get your story from the main man, the head cheese, el honcho, there.”

“Well, then, what’re we waiting for?” Elena asked. “Let’s go.”

Yuffie grinned, nudging Rude in the ribs. “She’s really going for this, huh? All out an’ out there, you know what I mean.”

Rude’s solemn face broke out in an uncharacteristic smile. “She’s adamant about recovering our lost comrade.”

A giggle escaped her lips as they started down the hall. “Whatever.”

Reno nearly fell from the couch as the door crashed open, the large wooden structure breaking from its hinges as it was violently forced into the office. Barret Wallace, Reno noted with a frown, was quick to follow the ruined door, a trail of his comrades following him. There was that annoying little girl, and Cait Sith, and that red lion thing, and Elena, and Rude…

And Elena, and Rude?

The two Turks caused him to do a double-take of the entire situation. The Turks must have been on the verge of hopelessness if they had allied with AVALANCHE. Especially since Elena was almost undoubtedly the new temporary leader of the Turks. She loathed AVALANCHE.

But all this thinking was irritating his headache. It was a much nicer alternative to let others think right now. They didn’t need him. Whatever they thought was perfectly all right. He could just sit on the couch in the corner of Reeve’s nice, big, air-conditioned office and go to sleep. Much better than thinking, sleep. His head sunk into the cushions.

“Howdy ho,” Cait Sith greeted, stepping over the smashed door. Reeve didn’t look up from his desk.

“Hey. ’Bout time you showed up,” Reeve said. “I had to do everything by myself. You think that was easy?”

“Well, Mr. High-and-Mighty, ya don’t want our help then next time we won’t haul our asses outta bed ta get ya,” Barret growled. “Da Turk’ll probly give us more appreciation than that. Damn.”

“Where’s Reno?” Elena asked, glaring at Reeve. “Don’t tell me I wasted my time and effort on nothing.”

Reeve finally looked up to the group. “Around here somewhere I’m sure.”

Elena’s face darkened. Her fingers itched for the feel of her side arm. “Don’t play games with me, Reeve. I am no longer in the mood. Where is he?”

Reeve turned to the figure on the couch behind him. “Yo! Reno!”

“Go away,” was the muffled reply.

“But your fan club showed up. I guess they didn’t deteriorate into nothingness like Heidegger assumed.”

“Shu’up. Bite me.”

Reeve shrugged. “Well, that was inconsiderate.” He turned back to Elena. “He doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s had a bad day.”

“A bad year is more like it,” Reno amended, turning his head to one side. He stared at what he could see of Elena from beneath his shock of red hair.

Elena walked around the desk to get a better view of the form sprawled haphazardly on the couch. “Did you kill Heidegger, Reno? If you did, I don’t know whether I should congratulate you or shoot you.”

“Whatcha talkin’ ’bout?” Reno pushed his upper body off the sofa, shifting around to rest on his side.

“Heidegger was our ticket to fixing this Shinra mess. He could’ve restored the old ways and saved us from working with these AVALANCHE floozies. Reeve obviously ain’t gonna do it from his little speech about reform.”

“Elena, what you just said was plain sad. Unless you haven’t noticed, the old ways sucked, so, uh, you can go away.” He flopped back down into his former position.

“Reno, that’s not what I meant. This new democratic way ain’t gonna work. We come back to Shinra, and we’ll have no say in anything. If Heidegger was still here, he’d get us a say. But you had to blow a fuse and kill him.”

Reno sighed and shook his head. “You’re making my headache exceptionally bad. And I didn’t kill Heidegger. He had a nasty spill off the balcony. That first step was a doozy. And as for your working arrangements, Reeve has given me a proposition which I will think about.”

“So what’re you saying? That my presence here wasn’t even needed?” Elena glowered. “You mean that I didn’t have to drag my sorry ass into their Seventh Heaven to make an alliance to spring you from the slam. Heidegger’s nasty spill. Yeah, right.”

“#$%&,” Barret growled, turning around. “What a waste of time. I’m leaving.”

“Yeah. Bummer,” Yuffie agreed as she turned tail and waked out of the room followed shortly by Red XIII.

“We shouldn’t have underestimated you, huh, Reno?” Rude asked, barely stifling a yawn.

“I said I’d think of something,” he muttered. “No one ever listens to me, though.”

“That’s exactly why you should take this offer,” Reeve interjected. “Everyone’ll have to listen to you.”

Reno wanted to just sink into the sofa and disappear. “Oh, God, go away. Go away.”

Tifa stared down into the crystalline waters of the pool, searching its royal blue depths for any type of answers to her problems. The water sparkled and gleamed, catching every minute bit of light in the large cavern, dazzling the eye. It reflected only the light, no images and no answers for her.

“Do you see it?” Cid asked, squinting as he learned over the small pillars marking the pathway up to the pagoda. She looked up to him.

“What is it supposed to look like? I haven’t seen it in a while you know.” She turned her gaze back to the shimmering surface of the pool.

“I dunno. I never saw it, remember? I imagine that it’s kinda like a crystal ball-type thing.” He scratched the back of his head. “A glowing pebble maybe? @#$%, I don’t know.”

“It looks like normal materia,” Vincent offered. “Sea green in color. It glows of its own accord. Look for a source of all this glimmering.”

Complete silence reigned over them like a smothering blanket as they searched for the Holy Materia. The large walls of the room, though they seemed like they would create any sort of echo, only absorbed every sound, even their quiet breathing. It seemed as though nothing could break that silence.

“Is that it?” Tifa asked, pointing to a point near one of the pillars that seemed to be the source of a pale glow.

“Could be,” Cid said. “You know the only way we’re going to find out, don’t you? Someone’s gonna have to go down there and check it.”

Tifa frowned. “How deep is it?”

“Uh…”

“I’ll get it,” Vincent declared.

“What?”

“I’ll go and get the materia.” Before anyone could voice an objection, Vincent slipped into the water. He dove down into the crystal waters, the blue liquid encasing him as though he was in suspended animation. His movements were sure, yet they appeared somehow dark against the pale green light. He was beneath the surface for only a matter of seconds.

It was the longest group of seconds in Tifa’s life.

Vincent’s hand closed over the green globe, snuffing the light from the water. A portion of the light was extinguished from the large room, turning the waters into a darker blue. Vincent broke through the glassy surface. He grabbed onto the edge of one of the pillars, his golden claw scraping against the marble. He held up a sea green orb in his good hand.

“This look like it, Tifa?” he asked, oblivious to the water running from his hair down his temples.

“I guess so.” She shrugged. “Looks familiar.”

Cid turned around, the sudden feeling of a mal presence tinkling the back of his mind. No one was standing there hidden within the shadows. His brow furrowed as he searched every corner of the room. Nobody was standing there though the feeling was too strong to be unwarranted. Cid turned back to Tifa.

“You ever get the feeling you’re being watched?” he asked.

“Ooh, very good.”

Cid turned abruptly to the new voice, almost slipping on a marble surface slick with water. Tifa grabbed his arm to steady him as she turned to look at the new speaker. Vincent pulled himself from the water, his hand tightening around the green globe.

“Well, well, Aeris, we meet again,” Cid said, bringing the Flayer to bear. “Maybe now I can finish what I started.”

“What we started, my dear, and what you won’t be around to finish. Because I’m going to.” A malicious smile peppered her features as her blue staff materialized within her hands. “But first I have to thank you for recovering the Holy Materia. My hair always gets frizzled after it gets wet as such.”

 “Well, you’re not welcome,” Cid growled, his hands tightening over the haft of his spear until his knuckles turned white. Don’t let her have it, Aeris ordained, her voice tight with anger. It is mine. Cid’s brow creased in confusion. Wait a minute. What the hell you talkin’ ’bout?

“It’s time to talk back that which was once mine.”

“Never,” Vincent declared, his fist clenching. “Enough blood has been shed because of this materia. Too many lives have died for your destroyer. Give it up, Aeris. Stop this madness.”

Aeris’ smile flickered before disappearing all together. “What do you know of my little project, Mr. Valentine?”

Vincent frowned. “It killed Lucrecia. It brought these demons to my soul. It destroyed Aeris, and it will destroy you. If you get this. If you don’t, I may be able to have one night of dreamless sleep.”

“It won’t destroy me,” she snapped. “Only one thing can, and once you’re dead, that thing will be mine.”

Tifa’s gaze drifted between Vincent and Cid. What are they talking about? she wondered hotly. She hated being left in the dark, and she was more oblivious to the basic plot of this “project” than she was to most things. She was so annoyed by her lack of knowledge that she was fighting the urge to scream.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” she asked, her words slow and articulate.

“Ah, Tifa, so dense.” Aeris sighed. “It’s a wonder what Cloud ever saw in you. Past tense, you know. He’s mine.”

Tifa’s face clouded over with pure wrath. “You bitch. He loves me.”

“Loved.” Aeris brought the staff to bear in front of her, the blue outlining every curve of her face and reflecting in her emerald eyes. A wind picked up to swirl about her, slapping her dress across her heels and whipping her hair about her face. The light withered away, and the shadows increased, claws outstretched and open towards the trio.

Tifa swerved to escape decapitation as a set of wicked talons whistled in the air inches from her head. She knocked one of the creatures of the night away from her only to be met by another hideous demon, red irises glowing like embers within the dark. They were everywhere, and the more she killed, the more appeared.

Aeris’ smile returned to her flawless features as she turned to the former Turk. “You can’t win, you know,” she stated simply. “It wants to come to me; it needs to come to me. It has a purpose, and that purpose lies with me. The quickest way to get from one point to another is a straight line. It’s much easier to get from you to the Black Materia by letting me get it there. It knows that; it won’t let you live if you give your life to keep it from me. You might as well let me have it and spare yourself the pain.”

“Shut up, Aeris. I’ll never give you this of my own free will.” His claw clenched tightly as he felt the hot anger boiling over within him. Not now. But the creature could feel his distress; it wanted to help in its own twisted way. It wanted to be a guardian over him and the materia. Sweat beaded on Vincent’s brow as he attempted to push it away. Oh, God, but not now.

Pain enveloped him as he doubled over in a display of unearthly crimson light. A scream escaped his lips which was soon transformed into a roar as his bones snapped and skin stretched, and chaos erupted from the inner peace which he had fought hard to retain. Wings open and outspread as though they were ready to receive the sky, the demon threw its head back and roared a second time, its prize clutched tightly within one claw. It beat its wings with one purpose in mind. Protect the sphere, protect itself. There was little else to do.

It rose in the air, calling upon the powers of hell to destroy this foe. The ground erupted into the laughing and deformed face of Death, a black mist pouring from the empty sockets and holes that should have sported the eyes and mouth. The black encased everything, shadow and flesh alike, before the skull shattered into a thousand piercing shards that cut through skin as easy as it sliced the air.

Aeris Gainsborough stood through it all, unscathed.

“You are foolish, Vincent, to let this pathetic creature protect the materia.” She shook her head sadly. “One would think you’d know better by now. Your monsters are no match for Hojo’s more dignified creations.”

She hefted the electrifying blue staff, oblivious to the decreasing amount of shadows she had left for her warriors. The head of the staff, an icy sunburst, came to rest inches from the marble floor, the breeze ignited once again to blow the two long locks of her hair from her face. Her lips curved upward as she voiced a single word. “Petrify.”

The creature howled as the eerie blue light swirled along its feet leaving a dark blue smoke in its wake. Pain was the only thing the creature could feel as its nerves were severed by the spell. Numbed skin was soon turned to stone, flesh to granite, tendons and ligaments to solid rock. The spell moved upward at an astonishing rate, but the creature was helpless to resist it. It attempted to fly away, but the heavy rock of its legs and feet weighed it down. Its red eyes flashed bright with an anger reminiscent of the animal which has just been caught by a poacher but refuses to give up the fight for its life; anger built from desperation.

The creature raised the materia high as though to protect it from the spell weaving its way over its torso and wings. It let out one more strangled cry as its head was cast into the hard stone. Moments later, its last claw flashed as it was changed to stone and the blue light disappeared. All turned quiet as the chaos was forced to peace. The materia slipped from the creature’s granite grasp.

It hit the marble floor with a resounding clang.

Cid turned from the shadows he was fighting as the sound reached his ears. It was there, bouncing back towards the deep waters of the pool. It is mine! Aeris shouted, her words harsh and loud in his head. Get it!

Every single cell in his body was screaming for him not to get within ten feet of that materia, but he found himself moving towards it. Damn it, Aeris! What’s with this? You’re a liar! No! But there was nothing he could do. He could scream inside his own head or shout until his lungs burned, but he couldn’t stop himself. His feet were moving of their own accord. Or someone else’s. The thought curled his innards.

“No!” Aeris shouted, seeing his move towards her prize. “You won’t get it that easily. You won’t destroy my work.” She moved to the materia, the blue rod disintegrating into the eerie green light. She came face to face with Cid.

Cid didn’t know what to do. Or what Aeris was going to do. He wanted to take the Flayer and stuff it up her butt sideways, but he realized he no longer had it in his possession even though he couldn’t remember letting it go. He also wanted to get his ass out of there, but he couldn’t move. She wouldn’t let him go.

“You are clueless, aren’t you?” Aeris asked, a sneer on her face. “Simply clueless. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” She bent over and picked up the Holy Materia.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cid declared, watching her every move. “Whatever you do, you can’t win. I’ll get to the others and help you repent for your crimes. The sentence is death.”

“That’s not you talking, Cid,” Aeris commented. “You used to be so sweet. Look what the White has done to you. It’s supposed to be good and grand, isn’t it? But it’s nothing without the dark and even less without the light.”

“I’ll have them both.”

“The hell you will.” She glanced behind him, her eyes lighting up when she saw Tifa struggling with the shadow spawn. “Maybe you oughtta help Tifa there. She’s struggling with my friends.”

Cid wanted to look; he wanted to see what was happening behind him, but he couldn’t. Anger tightened his features as his rage at Aeris and at this thing controlling him overcame him. He clenched his teeth as he fought this thing. He wanted to look. He wanted to help.

“Here, let me help you look, Cid,” she said, grasping his shoulder with one hand. “Just turn around.” He grabbed her other hand, tightening his grasp around her frail wrist. She did not let go of the small sphere of materia.

“I don’t want to see her,” he snarled. “She is worth nothing; you are worth nothing. Give me back my materia.”

Her fingers tightened around the cloth of his flight the jacket. “Cool off.” Her movements were fast and sure. She broke his iron grasp with a flick of her wrist and a show of incredible power. She threw him from the pillar they shared, a small smile flitting across her features as he tumbled into the waters with a splash.

“Let’s go,” she muttered, raising her hands to the sky. The unearthly zephyr rose about her, encasing everything, every shadow. Tifa let out a small scream as the light smothered her, choking the wind from her lungs. It seemed like an eternity, but it was over in a matter of seconds. The hall was empty, void of life.

Cid broke through the surface of the water, water sputtering from his mouth. He choked, grabbing onto the edge of the marble floor and pulling himself over it onto the steady ground. He coughed, breathing heavily as he lay on the hard floor, the phony voice of Aeris ringing through his head.

It is mine! How could you let it leave?! How could you?! How could you?! You inconsiderate son of a bitch. How could you do that to us? You let her have it. You let her go.

“Shut up!”

Only the silence answered him. There was no life here. No one to respond, no one to offer a comment. The severity of the situation suddenly hit him. If he was alone…

“Oh, God.” He turned to the large, rigid statue glowing with the reflections from the water. Shadows flickered over the stone face of the creature that had so recently been alive and had so recently been Vincent. The eyes were blank, never again to glow red with their inner light. Cid fought the urge to be sick.

He stumbled to his feet, trying to block the crying voice within his head. It was telling him to find its materia and at the same time cursing him for letting the materia go. It was a lie, everything was a lie. And where was Tifa? Where had she gone?

Pushing his companions from his mind, he lurched to the door, dragging his feet. He was alone with a lie, a bloody figment of his imagination. And Vincent was gone forever, and Tifa was gone, doomed to torture by a sadist. As he stumbled out into the hall and back towards a temporary freedom, he found himself green with envy, wishing for their fates.

But wishes were wasted on lies.

“It is I who have created this monster, loosed upon the earth. He will kill us all, destroy the people of the world, tear the ground until the Planet’s screams will be as abundant as the blood spilling from its wounds. It is I who have done this, and it is I who will be unable to stop this madness. As it often is, the man who is the beginning will never live to see the end. The Planet has my regrets, my regards, and my thanks for showing me the truth. I only hope that the Planet can forgive me and my erring ways. I repent, but I will never be saved. Forgive me.”

Reeve sighed as the tape clicked, coming to its end. This was bad, very bad. The only man who could fix this grievous error in judgement was dead. There was nothing he could do. He picked up the phone on his desk.

“Doloris, issue the order to demolish the labs and everything there within. I don’t want anything, even a paperclip, to be left. Every file, every test tube, everything destroyed,” he ordered, fingering the tape. As an afterthought, he added, “And get me Reno on the horn.”

He hung up the phone, leaning back in his chair. What mess had he blundered upon by recovering this tape from the labs? What mistake had been repeated by that fool Huiji? I thought this was over with Sephiroth’s death, Reeve thought sadly. How wrong we all are every time. What a bunch of fools. God, help us.

A low moan was barely audible over the voices muttering and cursing within his head. It was a constant buzzing, always with him now, always ready to insult and hurt, always ready to voice an insane comment. But at most times it was as it was now. Words too low and too quick to be discerned from one another, a mush of sentences and fragmented thoughts all grouped together, talking in one voice, whispered in one wild rush.

He wished it would stop and leave him in peace.

“Cloud?”

He pushed one more voice from his thoughts, a crazy smile gracing his lips. They thought they could fool him by using her. They thought he would be that weak. Ha, ha, foolish voices. You think you’re gonna put me outta my misery by giving me the one thing in life that can grant me happiness. I deserve no happiness. Let me be.

“Cloud, wake up.”

The pleading note in her voice… so real. It was as though he could reach out and touch her pale skin, stroke her chocolate hair, and stare so deeply into her perfectly round brown eyes. What would he see by peering through the doors to her soul? Would he see his own love and want reflected in her? Or would he see that pity he feared?

He was too scared to open his own eyes and look.

“Cloud, don’t do this to me. I need you. Come back.”

Did she need him, or was that just a bunch of pretty words made to be a lure to bring him back to her? Nobody had ever told him that he was needed. No one had come to him begging for his return. What did that mean?

Take a chance, you silly puppet. He winced against the ferocity of the voice inside his head. Was it guiding him or seeking to make him look foolish once more? Why was he forced with so many decisions in life? Hadn’t it already been proven that he couldn’t make a choice that was the right one? Was this voice just messing with his head?

“Don’t leave me alone. Please, Cloud. Please.”

A weight fell over his chest, but at that moment something was lifted from his heart. There was only one thing in this world that felt so light and smelled so sweet. There was nothing that compared to her very presence. It was the soft light that blessed the earth, her scent was that of the morning dew, her hair silkier than the rose that kissed lovers. It had to be her.

He slowly opened his eyes as if he were a dreamer finally arousing from a thankless nightmare. He could only hope that this was not another dream concocted by his sick mind, made to torture him by shoving the shards of his shattered hopes deep into his heart, made to twist and turn the jagged ends of his world of broken glass deeper and deeper into his bleeding flesh. But this was too real for that, wasn’t it?

His trembling hand stroked her head, running over her soft hair. This was too real to be untrue. Even his mind wasn’t this cruel to him. Even his mind wouldn’t think of all this horrors. She had to be real. She just had to be.

She sobbed against his shoulder though whether in sadness or in joy he did not know. “What has she done to you, Cloud?” she whispered, her voice soft in his ear. “Why does it have to be like this? Every time. Every damn time.”

“The things that hurt us bring us closer than shallow laughter and tear-felt joy will ever,” he whispered softly, though he could not recall if the words were his or another man’s. She drew a sharp breath against him. She sat back up, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Oh, Cloud.” Her arms wrapped around him, cradling his head. “Oh, Cloud.”

“How touching.” They both turned to the figure standing in the doorway, casting a long shadow in the room. Emerald eyes flashed with mirth. “How very deeply touching.” Aeris stalked into the small cavernous chamber. “The reunion of two lonely lovers.” Her soft features hardened with anger. “I think I may lose my lunch.”

Tifa sat back on her heels, her eyes narrowing with barely controlled rage. “You stay away from him,” she ordered though she had neither the ability nor the power to back up her threat, not against Aeris, not against that.

“Or you’ll do what?” she snapped. “Hurt me? I’d like to see you try.”

Tifa snorted. “Would you now?” She stood, pushing up imaginary sleeves on her shirt.

“Going to protect your little dear, now, are we? How pathetic. He does need protection. He is such a pathetic creature, such a weak fool to need protection from a bar wench.”

Cloud pushed himself into a sitting position, the iron taste of dried blood gracing his lips. His throat was dry and rough, his body aching, his bones screaming a bloody protest at such treatment. He didn’t feel the pain nor the aches, he didn’t feel the anguish, he felt incredibly angry. “Don’t call her a wench,” he growled. “She’s not a wench.”

“Isn’t she? All she’s ever done is lie to you. Over and over. She let you live that lie back in Kalm, didn’t she? She let you repeatedly suffer through your memories. She let you wallow in your pain, so she could feel stronger, be better than she really was. For if she is the muddy slime at the bottom of the food chain, than you are nothing. You make her feel good because you are so pathetic.”

“That’s not true.”

“She tells you lies to keep you near.”

“No.”

“Ask her something to see the truth, then.”

Cloud bit his lower lip. There was so much he wanted to know and even more that she couldn’t tell him. He wanted to answers as to why, but reasons like that were rarely known and never disclosed to people like him. He wanted to know what the Planet had been thinking when the fates made their decision to do this. She couldn’t begin to answer that. His eyes found her.

“Did I kill him?” he asked, fearing the answer. The answer would seal his fate. Could he be trusted? Could he ever trust himself?

Tifa didn’t answer immediately, muddling through what he meant. Did I kill him? Tifa wanted to blurt out that he hadn’t killed Cid, but something stopped her. Cid wasn’t really Cid anymore. But Cloud didn’t really need to know that, did he? He shouldn’t have to worry about that, she thought.

“You didn’t kill him, Cloud,” she declared, her voice soft yet not lacking in force. “He’s still alive.”

Aeris smiled wickedly. “See how she tells you things that have no value in truth. Look deeply into her eyes and tell me she is as truthful as I. Look here for the evidence; look to me for the truth.” From somewhere hidden within the folds of her dress she produced a pair of goggles that were far too familiar. She tossed them to Cloud who let them hit the floor with a hollow thud.

Blood crusted and black with mud, they seemed to be speak more to Aeris’ truth than to Tifa’s lies. Cloud stared at them, feeling the cold bite of tears burning at his eyes. His throat constricted as he fought the inevitable hurt. He tore his gaze from the irreproachable evidence and looked to Tifa.

He had one question to ask her.

“Why?”

Tifa looked away, wanting to shout out to him that Aeris was the one who was lying, that Cid had actually survived that horrific night, but she found that she couldn’t. Some inexplicable force stopped her. Aeris smiled once before she left the room, walking away from the torment they were both feeling as though they were worth nothing and felt nothing. She glanced back to look into Cloud’s watery eyes.

“Why?”

Yuffie glanced at the contents of her bag once in reassurance. Sitting there, tucked within the deeper nooks of the knapsack, were her glittering treasures. Well, they weren’t really hers, but Cid had said she could keep them, so shouldn’t that mean that she could keep all sixteen? Sure, it did.

She walked her motorcycle through the streets of Midgar, strutting proudly away from her latest conquest and the old team’s latest failure. From what she had heard from Barret and the rest of the guys, the stuff she now carried was Cloud’s. She grinned in triumph. Had been Cloud’s, past tense. It was hers now. She had found it, stolen or not, and it was hers.

She felt no remorse for swiping the lost warrior’s junk. It was all well and good to her. The finders would keep while the losers could weep. He probably didn’t need it anyway. What had Cid told her? Materia wouldn’t help them where they were going. Her grin widened. All the better for her.

She was through with the team, now. They weren’t worth anything more to her than a handful of fool’s gold. She knew it was cold; she knew it was very mean of her to think of them that way, but it was the truth. Why lie to herself and to them? She knew they knew the truth. Lying was so frivolous.

There would be no more goodbye’s. Hell, she hated saying goodbye. That was the worst part of meeting people; you always had to say goodbye sooner or later. It was so much better when people just walked away. Like she did. Simple, quick, no regrets. That was the way that was the best. No regrets. She could live with it.

The blue sky stretched above the earth, a perfectly flawless tone. It was as clear as crystal, as cloudless as the grass seas were empty. No white fluffiness, no streaks of cotton decorating the blue. It was as clear and as empty as he felt.

Cid was laying prone in the tall grass, watching as the breeze flitted through the golden tresses, wishing he was any place but there. The illusion of Aeris, his own stupid naivete, left him relatively alone for now. She was only a small voice bottled up in the back of his mind, whining that they were too close to lay here waiting for something to happen. Cid didn’t care though. She could rot back there. He was watching the sky right now. She could wait. They all could wait.

This was all he needed right now. The warm sunlight on his face, drying out the damp chill from his bones, a soft breeze to whisper promises to his ears, no intrusions, no worries for once in his life. He could sit here and stay for a spell. He closed his eyes. He needed a soothing dream.

The light disappeared behind a cloud, the warmth dissipating from his skin.

“What the hell?” he muttered, opening his eyes and pushing himself into a sitting position. Hovering above him was no cloud. It was large and man-made and startlingly familiar. Cid grinned. “I knew they’d get ya flying, baby,” he declared, standing. “Highwind’s a name that don’t fail ya.”

The Highwind set down softly on the next hill like a majestic bird returning to its nest, hissing as its engines cooled. A ladder was thrown over the edge of the deck, and little people began exiting the ship. Cid started walking to them, striding confidently down the slope and up the next. He didn’t know what he was going to tell them; he didn’t care. He’d probably just blurt the story out anyway. It didn’t matter. They needed to find out, and if this was the way they’d learn of it, then so be it.

Barret Wallace dropped down in front of the pilot, his large feet easily trampling the prairie grasses. He wiped some sweat from his brow, pursing his lips as he looked his rumpled companion over. Weaponless, dirty, damp, Cid Highwind was not an impressive sight. Barret, however, did not say a thing about the bedraggled appearance of the pilot once he saw the look in those blue eyes. Haunted, hunted, lost.

He cleared his throat, opening his mouth to say anything. Cid starting talking before he got the chance. “Vincent’s dead, turned to stone. Tifa’s gone,” he said, a simple statement that meant far more than the words would say. He stopped, waiting for an insult, an accusation, anything.

Barret didn’t know what to say. How could you respond to something like that? He shuffled his feet, squinting in the bright light as he looked away. Tifa was gone… and Vincent was dead. Bummer. “So, what do you want to do?”

Cid shrugged, following the other man’s gaze into the distance. His brow furrowed. “I don’t know. There’s not much we can do, you know. Except wait for her to do something.”

Barret frowned. “Let that bitch make her move. We’ll get her, right? Jes’ you an’ me sending her back to where da sun don’t shine.”

The pilot nodded absentmindedly. He hadn’t exactly expected this, but he was finding that most of the things he expected were often wrong nowadays. Expectations were just that. You couldn’t depend on them. They were about as reliable as a blind man’s judgements of colors. Cid told himself that he should stop expecting anything. If you didn’t expect anything, you wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Six feet under, pal,” he said, though the comment was far from correct. The bloody waters were still there at the edge of his vision ready to wash over them and drown them out. He squinted as he looked far over the golden sea. There in the distance darkness was creeping in like a thief ready to poach the unsuspecting’s chocobos straight from the coop. Billowing blackness was ready to pour its fury down upon the denizens of the earth, ready to come upon them as swiftly as that crimson pool.

The storm was approaching on the horizon, coming to obscure the bright blue hues of the crystalline sky with the unfathomable dark of ominous cloud cover. All they could do was wait.

© Junj, 1998

Go on to Section 5