Twilight Perfected

by JamesFirecat

Summary:

A general who only wants to make up for his past mistakes, a science experiment who only wants to be a hero, a bar owner who only wants to get back what Shinra took from her, a coal miner who only wants to build a better world, and a flower girl who only wants to make people happy. Individually they’re nothing more then pebbles in Shinra’s shoe. Together… they could be an Avalanche.

Eventually Aerith/Sephiroth.

Chapter 1: Well, I know what I've been told, you gotta work to feed the soul, but I can't do this all on my own. No, I know, I'm no Superman.

AN: This story will be borrowing some visual elements from the remake (Reno’s tattoos) and possibly some bits of characterization or side quests to add more flavor/depth, but at the end of the day this is still going to be an AU based on the original game without any of the remake’s plot twists being present.

[Start Chapter]

Reeve Tuesti was one of the seven richest men on the Planet. Countless people envied the wealth and power that came with his position as the head of Shinra’s Urban Development Department. Reeve Tuesti envied those countless people, because they were blissfully ignorant of how the world truly worked.

Those people could insist to themselves that life was, if not fair, at least sane. That people like Reeve (who had so much money that he could hire someone to think of ludicrous metaphors for exactly what he could do with it) were so financially blessed because they’d been born smarter or worked harder than everyone else.

Reeve knew better, and it was that knowledge which made him dread moments like this. Even the fact that it was happening late in the day, so that a more sensible person could simply go home once the horrific event had concluded didn’t help.

It was time for the Shinra ‘07 third quarter review.

Like every quarterly review for over five years straight Reeve was the last person to arrive and quietly took a seat at the large conference table. He tried not to look at the woman who was seated to his right, and he especially tried not to look to the man seated on his left.

He also tried not to look at either of the two people who were seated across from him. He tried not to think about the man who saw the people of this city not as customers, but enemy combatants. He tried not to think about the man who now was the head of a ‘department’ which existed only on paper. He tried to imagine that the meeting was already over and he could just go back to his desk.

Alas, before the meeting could even officially start, one of his coworkers gleefully rose to their feet, unable to contain their joy.

“Good news everyone!” Announced Professor Simon Hojo, his joyful tones somehow even more off putting than the detached and unconcerned air he would normally approach office politics with.

“Project Second Silver has finally had a major success! After years of dismal failures, I’d like to present to you my latest scientific triumph, Kadaj!” Hojo boasted as he tapped a few keys into his seat’s terminal.

Moments later a monitor in front of every department head flared to life. It revealed the image of a young man who looked to be in his late teens wearing a black outfit. He had silver hair that was cut short in the back but in front was long enough to dangle across his face. His green eyes seemed to glow with a strange inner light, and as the camera drew closer their pupils suddenly contracted into vertical slits. The moment that this change took place Hojo paused the video.

“What exactly are we looking at?” Blustered Heidegger as he gazed at his screen almost as intently as Kadaj was gazing into the camera recording him.

“While I’ll admit that the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department has kept me more than amply supplied with test subjects, even my brilliance was stymied at every turn as I attempted to discover a way to elevate their bodies to the heights of our lamentably fallen General Sephiroth. Eventually I realized that such greatness could simply not be thrust upon those who never came close to being worthy of it. Instead, I decided to simply start from scratch and build a receptacle for Sephiroth’s genes that had been designed with them in mind from the very start.” Hojo explained.

“If you started from scratch then why are we looking at a young man rather than a baby?” Scarlet pointed out the obvious contradiction.

“You are familiar with the ability of Jenova cells to replicate at a far quicker pace than human ones are you not, my dear? While Sephiroth was undoubtedly second only to the invention of the mako reactor in helping the Shinra Electric Power Company achieve greatness, I will be the first to admit he had his flaws. I think we can all agree that he spent the entire first decade of his life contributing practically nothing of value to our organization.” Hojo scoffed dismissively.

Reeve had to resist the urge to wince, it was an urge he’d gotten impossibly good at resisting, because these quarterly review meetings never failed to give him more chances to practice.

“Human reproduction is such an unnecessarily protracted and messy affair. When it came to Kadaj’s creation I was able to take advantage of Jenova cell’s astounding reproductive rate in order to induce artificial aging. My newest creation is only a few months old, and yet already physically capable of being deployed to the field.” Shinra’s top scientist boasted.

“At the moment all I see is a pretty silver haired toy. Can you prove to me that he has what it takes to be a soldier and not just a SOLDIER?” Heidegger demanded.

Hojo’s face fell slightly and he returned his attention to the terminal in front of him.

“Gentlemen, while I may seem to work miracles, I must remind you I’m a scientist, not a magician and certainly not some kind of daycare matron. That is why I’ve handed the task of raising Kadaj over to some of my subordinates, though of course only after providing them with ample instructions for how best to go about it.” Hojo insisted as he tapped a few more keys.

The video resumed, zooming out to once again show Kadaj’s entire face, and a female voice could be heard speaking.

“How are you feeling today, Kadaj?” It asked in the sort of sweet sing-song voice that women tended to favor when addressing young children.

Kadaj smiled.

If Reeve had been a man less practiced at hiding his feelings he would have jerked backwards in shock. Thanks to the overly clinical terms that Hojo favored, Reeve had allowed himself to be lulled into thinking of Kadaj as just a younger, smaller Sephiroth.

Though Reeve had been far from the closest confidant of Shinra’s most famous general, it was impossible for him to imagine Sephiroth ever smiling with the sort of relaxed innocent air that Kadaj now displayed.

“I feel great!” The young man beamed, his teeth almost as bright as his hair.

“That’s good because you’re going to be taking a test today...” The female voice said.

The smile vanished in an instant.

“What kind of test? What happens if I fail?” Kadaj’s tone wasn’t exactly sullen or plaintive, but it was wary, the vocal equivalent of a wild animal pacing at the edge of a campfire wondering if it should risk coming any closer.

“There’s no way to fail this test. In fact, it is more like a game; I say a word and then you say the first word it makes you think of. To start with, light…?”

“Bulb.”

“On?”

“Off.”

“Mako?”

“Power.”

“Shinra?”

“Power.”

“Power?”

“Protects.”

“Family?”

“Reunion.”

“Sword?”

“Shiny.”

“Gun?”

“Loud.”

“Cat?”

“Kitty! No wait, purr!”

At this point in the back and forth Hojo stopped the video.

“Really? That is what you expect to be the next Sephiroth?” For some reason the head of Shinra’s Public Safety Department was unimpressed.

Hojo pushed more buttons and the video shifted to a new scene.

This clip depicted the young man armed with one of the most bizarre weapons Reeve had ever seen; it was like someone had decided to attach two sword blades parallel to each other on the same hilt.

Kadaj was walking into what seemed to be some kind of combat arena and waiting for him were several of Shinra’s most recent robotic creations. Kadaj had seemed more nervous at the prospect of a test in the previous video clip then he did at the sight of a dozen or so machines designed for the express purpose of eliminating Shinra's enemies.

The fight started with Kadaj manifesting lightning without use of any visible materia, and ended with him burying both of his weapon’s blades into the barrel of a laser defense turret. A moment later the device exploded magnificently, somehow leaving Kadaj improbably unmarred by shrapnel.

“I would like to think his combat capabilities speak for themselves.” Hojo smirked, before taking a moment to remove his glasses and clean them with an air of nonchalance that suggested he might as well be the room’s sole occupant.

“So he knows how to break Scarlet’s fancy toys. There’s more to warfare than skill with a blade or magic, you know! Is he willing to grind our foes into dust, to burn each and every single one of them to a pile of ashes?” Heidegger pressed.

In an instant the glasses were back on Hojo’s face, but they weren’t quite dark enough to keep Reeve from noticing the fact that the scientist’s eyes were shifting about considerably more than they normally did.

“As a weapon Kadaj is still rather incomplete, I’m afraid. His aggression levels towards living beings are regrettably minimal, but I’m certain this problem can be fixed with the right conditioning or chemical cocktail.

Luckily, I was able to tailor his upbringing to take advantage of the strange way that Jenova cells seem to resonate with one another even in entirely different test subjects. It took no effort at all to convince him that his ‘brother’ Sephiroth was Shinra’s greatest hero, and thus he simply MUST be equally heroic.

I must admit, while Project Second Silver has had its ups and downs, now that we are actually making real progress Sephiroth is proving to be even more useful to us as a martyr than he ever did while alive.” Hojo concluded.

So at the moment Simon Hojo considered the fact that his newest superpowered child soldier just wasn’t homicidal enough to be a major defect, lovely. Reeve wished he had a way to just turn his brain off and completely disengage from this conversation, but he hadn’t gotten where he was in life without having a memory that if anything only made events seem to get clearer and more focused when he thought back on them.

“What is your plan if things go wrong with Kadaj?” Reeve asked, while in the back of his mind somehow suspecting it was more a matter of “when” than “if”, all things considered.

“The wonderful thing about science is that once you succeed, your results are so easy to replicate. I’ve already created additional Kadaj-line Second Silver specimens and have them germinating in artificial wombs as we speak.” Hojo noted confidently.

“How long before we can unleash him on Avalanche?” President Shinra finally joined the conversation.

“Let's just say that I’m sure that Kadaj will find a way to help Shinra truly ring in the new year...” Cackled Hojo, drawing a “Gya haah hah hah” from Heidegger and a no less enthusiastic “Kya hah hah” from Scarlet.

 

XXX XXX XXX

Everything beyond that particular discovery was normal enough for a Shinra quarterly review meeting (which meant it would qualify as “profoundly terrifying” in just about any other context) and soon Reeve was headed back to his office.

The sad thing was how coldly “logical”, almost inevitable it all was. Shinra had never shied away from the idea of fielding child soldiers. It still thoroughly escaped Reeve why exactly the wealthiest organization on the face of the Planet should feel the need to employ “soldiers” who hadn’t even reached fifteen years of age. The logic behind such a decision thoroughly escaped Reeve… and even more horrifying… it had worked.

Not in the simple sense that Shinra had been able to grind down its foes through sheer attrition. No, “sensible”, “mature” men like General Heidegger hadn’t won the Wutain War, it’d been won by a bunch of… children.

Children like General Sephiroth who would be all of twenty seven years old if he was still alive today… a thought that somehow made Reeve Tuesti (who was only thirty five years old himself) feel like he was so ancient he might as well crumble to dust then and there.

Reeve made it back to the sanctuary of his office, closed the door and looked out the window. From this high up in Shinra HQ he looked out on a sea of over a million gently shining lights, each and every single one of them drawing power from the city’s mako reactors.

The Shinra Electric Power Company was a drug dealer, and their narcotic of choice was the impossibly cheap to produce and “clean” energy provided by mako power. It had turned the entire Planet into a culture of addicts, and himself just one more pusher.

It was at times like these that Reeve was glad there was at least one person in the building whom he could hold an honest conversation with.

He sat down at his desk, and pressed a button to activate the intra-building communication system. A moment later there was a mechanical tone telling him his call had been received.

“Shinra Electric Power Company General Affairs Auditing Department...” Answered someone in the sort of sweet sing-song voice that men used when they want to annoy their conversation partner.

“I made a mistake on my latest expense report and overcharged the company. I’d like a chance to get my paperwork in order.” Reeve replied.

“We’re sending our most dedicated agent up to you right now.” The voice promised.

There were hardworking people in the world like Reeve who refused to simply surrender no matter how impossible a task they were confronted with.

There were lazy people in the world who never accomplished anything.

There were people who shared both traits in equal measure.

Reeve had only met one person on the entire Planet in whom the two traits had somehow become inverted, and a dedication to doing as little as possible resulted in tremendous accomplishments.

That was why he’d barely had time to finish figuring out how to properly shuffle the numbers in his department’s budget (by simply giving himself a 5% pay cut he was able to make sure that none of his employees would be downsized despite the fact that President Shinra had decided to cut Urban Development’s funding… again….) before his guest arrived.

“Shinra Electric Power Company General Affairs Auditing Department, we know what you did last summer!” Proudly declared a red-haired man who was wearing an unkempt blue suit which had been left unbuttoned down just past his pectorals.

His spiky red hair and bangs were further accented by a pair of red tattoos leading out from under his eyes and up to his forehead, upon which a pair of thick aviator goggles rested.

The man known only as Reno had wormed his way into Shinra’s power structure then burrowed in still deeper with the sort of dedication and complete disregard for the structure involved that one typically only saw from termites. Reeve had once tried to figure out who exactly was responsible for hiring Reno, and had discovered that somehow at least five different people (one of whom had since been fired while another was simply dead) were involved in a complex shell game of blame shifting, with each believing someone else had made the final call.

Reeve had learned absolutely nothing of value about how exactly Reno had joined Shinra from that attempt… and absolutely everything there was to know about Reno himself as a person.

“Mr. Tuesti, it is entirely too late and you are entirely too sober to be working.” Reno insisted after taking a moment to examine the head of Shinra’s Urban Development Department.

Reeve couldn’t help but agree, chiefly because he knew that he was never going to get any serious work done after a quarterly meeting, they always left him helplessly traumatized. For that matter if he measured his performance only by the mission statement of the Urban Development Department (“We will improve our customers' quality of life”) Reeve had actually “out-lazied” Reno!

Because what he was doing these days wasn’t improving peoples’ lives, it was ending them.

So far as Reeve could determine President Shinra and the other department heads had decided that his job was to murder as few people as possible with the large number of primed grenades they kept tossing to him.

That was what Reeve’s “job” amounted to: murder by numbers, financial homicide, or, if he was feeling charitable with himself, fiscal manslaughter.

Here someone was going to die to a curable disease because a hospital had been closed down, there some drunkard was going to drive off the side of a road because the crash barriers hadn’t been replaced recently, and he couldn’t forget that elsewhere someone was inevitably going to die when an unrepaired bridge collapsed, either onto their head or under their tires.

Reeve Tuesti was the only man on the face of the Planet who could make a convincing case for having killed more people than General Sephiroth…

It was a testament to how good he was at his job that Urban Development hadn’t become a “paper department” the way that Shinra’s Space Program had. Evidently President Shinra liked how amazing Reeve was at keeping Midgar’s people from rising up in a murderous mob against the company that never stopped trying to discover new ways to make their lives just a little bit worse.

There was nothing that Reeve dreaded more than the inevitable day when President Shinra complimented him with something along the lines of “Well done you son of a bitch, you could almost make me believe you actually cared about our customers!” because he somehow knew it was coming.

For the moment though, rather than continuing to decide which poor soul would next have to shed blood rather than even risk the possibility of Shinra seeing red in their budget, Reeve opened up a small compartment in his desk, pulling out a bottle and four glasses.

He filled all four of the glasses and Reno eagerly snatched three of them, managing to hold one in either hand while enfolding the third in the crook of his left elbow.

“Reno, why does the Planet hate me?” Reeve wondered as he began to drain his own glass.

“Mr. Tuesti, anyone who thinks the Planet cares about them in particular is on an ego trip. The bitch hates all of us, what you gonna do?” Reno answered without hesitation.

Reeve had no logical counterargument. For that matter, if Reno knew the things that Reeve did, he would probably agree that the Planet had every right to hate humanity.

“We’re going to drink.” Was the only answer Reeve could give.

“That kind of split-second brilliant decision-making is exactly why you get paid the gallons of gil Mr. Tuesti!” Reno insisted, contorting his body in unnatural ways to refill his glasses without needing to put them down first.

This was what Reeve wanted; in times of mad kings and crazed tyrants the court jester was the only man who was allowed to speak the truth, and thus the only man who a dangerous truth could be spoken to.

“Reno, this isn’t going to work.” Reeve sighed.

“Not if you’re taking that long to empty a single glass. Come on Mr. Tuesti, there’s no ‘I’ in ‘Team’ but there is a ‘U’ and an ‘R’ in ‘drunk’, so who are we to second guess the wisdom of the ancients?” Reno encouraged him.

Reeve pounded down his second glass of the expensive liquor and gazed out at the flickering lights of Midgar.

“We’re all stuck in a rut, doing the exact same thing we’ve been doing ever since the Wutain War ended. Heidegger wants a new war to fight, so his heavy handed action's create more support for Avalanche than they suppress, Scarlet creates some new slightly bigger gun, Hojo still thinks Sephiroth is all that matters, Palmer … still attends meetings…. all while I bail water ‘out’ of an already sunk ship.

The Shinra Electric Power Company is a lumbering dinosaur that has outgrown all its natural predators and is now lazily using its massive bulk to crush anything it doesn’t like. Well, we all know how that ended though, don’t we? One day we’re gonna look up and see a gigantic meteor headed straight for us… and all the money we’ve made won’t make one damn lick of difference.” Reeve sighed.

“I’ve heard worse reasons to drink, here’s to the meteor, a swift and painless death is still better than some people get!” Reno vowed in a voice which was far too cheerful for Reeve’s liking.

Not that it kept Reeve from clinking glasses with the most intelligent man in all of Shinra HQ, because the two of them were the only ones smart enough to realize what completely hopeless idiots they actually were.

XXX XXX XXX

Somewhere in the Lifestream a black glove twitched.

 

[End Chapter One.]

AN: My portrayal of Reeve is based on the exact same principle that was used to portray Police Commissioner Gordon in the recent Harley Quinn animated series (and to a lesser degree Michael Bluth of Arrested Development), exploring the psychological impact of a character being the only sane and rational person in their workplace, and how that would inevitably drive them just as crazy as everyone else they have to interact with, but in a distinctly different way.

My portrayal of Reno is the more or less fairly standard comic exaggeration of the source material.

My portrayal of Kadaj is…. going to go in some interesting directions.

Also to be clear, the “logical” head-cannon reason for why in the remake the Turks are seen meeting in the “General Affairs Auditing Department” is because the Turks have several different possible meeting rooms set up throughout Shinra HQ, all of which has painfully mundane titles, and then they more or less randomly rotate which one they are actually meeting in as a security precaution.

However since Final Fantasy VII is a cyberpunk dystopia we must be honest with ourselves and face the possibility that Shinra really has become so bloated and profitable that no one cares that on those days when Tseng calls in sick (or is recovering from bullet/sword wounds) Reno is in charge of the auditing department for a company that probably accounts for roughly 60% of the entire Planet’s GDP.

If you’re interested how this story lines up with the timeline, well according to the current FFVII timeline, the game starts on December 9th so this third quarter review meeting is happening a little later than normal, you got me.

Finally I’d like take a moment and thank The_Story_Maker whose own awesome and dramatic Aerith/Sephiroth piece “Epiphany” helped finally inspire me to write FFVII fiction again, and Fenrir4Life who not only helped edit this story but also gave a few (make that a lot of) suggestions.

Chapter 2: And though they tell you I am lost, and their words report my death is come, the fates have left me breathing still, very much alive.

/My name is General Sephiroth, I am a human being. I am not a monster.\ The silver haired man thought to himself.

He’d been thinking those words a lot recently.

He would have shouted them from the top of his lungs, but his mouth would have been filled with Lifestream before he was able to make a single sound.

His body flowed through the Lifestream and it allowed him to feel the “sound” of countless voices calling out to him. He could hear the curses of those who he had slain, and the plaintive begging of those who had died in his service, asking if their deaths had accomplished anything worthwhile.

He ignored both; the dead should be able to attend to their own affairs. Right now, all that mattered to him was his quest.

/Out of my way, I’m going to see my mother.\ Sephiroth thought “loudly” and pushed on past those spectral cries.

The Lifestream contained the essence of every human who had ever lived. He was human, he was sure of it… so somewhere in this endless green ocean, he could find his mother. The fact that he still didn’t know her name (whatever it was, it damn sure wasn’t “Jenova”) didn’t matter, such was the power of the Lifestream.

All Sephiroth had to do to was reach out and find the one essence flowing through it that truly cared about him, that truly loved him. She had to be out there somewhere. Was not a mother’s love the gift bestowed upon every child?

Did she hate him? Was that why her mind refused to reach out and touch his own no matter how hard he tried?

If she did hate him, he could hardly blame her...

Sephiroth had killed his own mother before he’d even drawn his first breath, before he’d ever opened his eyes.

The reports had been incredibly clear on that point, once he’d realized what facts someone as untrustworthy as Simon Hojo had decided to omit rather than include.

The Jenova project’s “creation phase” had only lasted six months. Sephiroth’s body was far more efficient than that of any other human being, it had probably been so even in his mother’s womb. Every human child was a parasite upon their mother’s body, consuming energy and giving nothing in return.

Sephiroth’s body, in its remorseless drive to ensure his survival, would have simply taken the process to the next level … absorbing so much of his mother’s energy that she dropped dead the moment he was born.

Still, here in the Lifestream where all of humanity was blended together into one glorious gestalt, there had to be a chance for a reunion. There had to be.

He was going to find her… he was going to apologize… he was going to know what it actually meant to be loved. That was what he had to do, and General Sephiroth always succeeded no matter how impossible the task.

He would use the Lifestream to travel from one side of the planet to the other, he would “sail” this green ocean for however long it took. He would prove to himself that he was an actual human being, no matter what. Hojo had broken Sephiroth’s soul into a million different pieces but he was going to piece himself back together… he just needed a little help to get the process started.

/My name is General Sephiroth, I am a human being. I am not a monster.\ He repeated the mantra once more.

/You don’t belong here...\ A voice called out to him.

This one was different than any that had come before. In the ocean of the Lifestream, every other voice he’d encountered had been like a rock, completely stuck in place, easy for him to avoid.

If Sephiroth’s body was a ship in the Lifestream, this voice was a current, wrapping around him and trying to direct his path.

/Leave me alone!\ Sephiroth thought back at the voice, refusing to have his course changed, refusing to abandon his quest.

/Only you could spend five years on your own, and then still be upset at the idea of having to talk to someone, Boss...\ The voice replied.

Sephiroth could feel the current generate minor wave, almost like a hand made of Lifestream gently brushing up against his own. That was when he realized that this “current” had a face, a name, and a personality that Sephiroth all knew by heart.

But if they were down here that meant they weren’t alive anymore… and that was one more cursed bit of knowledge that Sephiroth would have been happier not knowing.

/Zack... It hasn’t been five years… has it?\ Sephiroth thought back, finally “speaking with” rather than just “talking to” a Lifestream essence.

Keeping exact track of time in the Lifestream was difficult, there was no day or night in the green ocean, and while he was enfolded in the very essence of existence itself he did not need to eat, drink or even sleep. It had been… a very long time indeed since Sephiroth had even actually bothered to open his eyes, instead navigating the Lifestream by intuition alone.

/Would I lie to you?\ Zack countered.

/Yes. As a Second, you asked me to sign a leave slip so you could visit your parents. Instead, you took said slip with you into the slums to prove to a certain young lady that you actually know me.\ For a man moving through a fluid medium, the tone of his mental voice was positively arid.

/Did not realize you knew that.\ Zack Fair’s essence admitted somehow managing to perfectly convey shock and embarrassment without any sort of physical body.

/I know lots of things you don’t, that’s why I’m the General.\ Sephiroth calmly reminded his favorite subordinate.

/By the way, if it makes you feel better, it didn’t work; seems that somewhere out there in Sector Five there’s at least one girl who isn’t mooning over you. Anyway, there are two things you need to know. I’ll make it quick, since I’m sure you want this conversation, just like every other conversation you’ve ever had to be a part of, over and done without delay.\ Zack insisted.

Sephiroth wasn’t bothered by Zack’s flippant comments. As far as he was concerned, the point of a conversation was to pass along information after all; the more quickly it could be done. the more efficient the conversation had been.

/I’m here, you’re here… but did you ever check that he was here?\ Zack’s spirit inquired.

The words struck Sephiroth like a physical blow.

/No. No. He’s here… he has to be. He managed to drag me down, but only because he fell first.\ Sephiroth insisted, for the first time in wondering if he'd actually made the best use possible of the last five years.

/He isn’t, trust me.\ Zack insisted.

/What is the other thing I need to know?\ Sephiroth demanded, refusing to spend all the time that he’d need in order to fully process Zack’s first revelation.

/Reach your left arm about two feet and clench your fist.\ Zack advised.

Sephiroth did… and for the first time since he’d fallen into the Lifestream he felt something solid.

His right hand reached out in the same direction and met with similar success.

Sephiroth wasn’t sure of what it was he’d actually grabbed hold of, but he was sure of one thing: finding his mother would have to wait. General Sephiroth had a new mission, or at least an old one that he hadn’t managed to finish the first time around.

XXX XXX XXX

Lights flashed, alarm bells sounded, and Kadaj tried (without success) to doze on his bed. He wondered what all the noise was about and why it had to be so loud. If it was anything really important, somebody would tell him what to do.

That was how it worked after all, being a hero. It meant that people would come to you when they had problems that they couldn’t solve themselves, and then you helped themsolve those problems.

Since nobody had come to Kadaj for help at the moment that must mean whatever was going on wasn’t all that bad. Maybe they had just triggeredall those alarm systems simultaneously to make sure that they were all still working properly?

He wished that they could have warned him about it ahead of time. Granted, there wouldn’t actually be much Kadaj could do about the irritatingly ear piercing sounds even if he’d known to expect them. Still, normally the doctors were nice enough to let him know in advance if something out of the ordinary was going to happen.

They looked after him, because he wasn’t as strong or as smart as Sephiroth, yet. As he laid there on his bed Kadaj couldn’t help but think to himself that if nothing else, he was sure that he was already every bit as brave as General Sephiroth. If he was given a chance, he’d help people no matter how risky it was, no matter what kind of danger he had to face.

Knowing that there was no way he’d be able to nap successfully with so many loud sounds ceaselessly assaulting his ears, Kadaj slid off his bed and stood up. He turned his attention to the two pieces of ornamentation in the otherwise bare room he called his own.

The first was a mirror, and the second was a picture of a man with long silver hair. The man in the picture had his hair neatly parted to either side of his face so that there was no risk of his vision being obscured by it, unlike Kadaj’s own messy mop of silver strands. Kadaj had attempted to style his hair like the man in the picture’s more than once. Alas, no matter how hard he tried (and when the doctors didn’t need him he had nothing but free time on his hands with which to try) it always seemed to just drift apart.

Hair was weird.

Brushing some of said hair out of his eyes so he could see clearly he gazed deeply into the one picture he’d been given of his older brother, General Sephiroth.

“Are you coming back today?” He asked the picture and rested a black gloved hand on top of it… though the picture (as pictures tended to do) remained unresponsive.

Kadaj tried to listen whenever the doctors talked to him and tried to learn as much as they could teach him. Sadly, some of the things they said just didn’t make sense no matter how long he spent thinking about them. Those thoughts and ideas (much like his hair) refused to be molded into a cohesive shape that could support its own weight.

General Sephiroth was a hero. That was self evident and undeniable. Sephiroth was the reason that the Shinra Electric Power Company had won its war with Wutai. He was the reason that mako power could be safely implemented across the entire Planet. Mako power was the thing that illuminated the light bulbs in his room, and light was better than darkness, especially since most people apparently had trouble seeing in the dark.

General Sephiroth was dead. That was… a painful idea, but not necessarily an impossible one. People were called heroes because they were willing to risk their lives when no one else would, and if you kept risking it again and again and again, eventually.. well the odds insisted that you couldn’t possibly win every time.

General Sephiroth was dead… and no one was sure why?

That idea was a squiggly bent thing; it was entirely the wrong shape to let Kadaj form a coherent triangle with the two proceeding ones.

Heroes might die… but they would die doing something glorious and worthy of talking about, facing down some great and dangerous foe, trying to avert some horrific disaster, or rescuing some beautiful princess. Heroes didn’t simply vanish, they didn’t simply decide to stop being heroes without telling anyone. They also didn’t die in ways so mysterious that even the doctors couldn’t tell him anything about them.

Faced with those “stupid” and “wrong” facts that made no sense, Kadaj had decided that he’d just have to make his own; it was the only way for him to create a proper triangle and paint a picture of the world that made sense.

So General Sephiroth wasn’t dead… he was just… waiting. After all, since the Wutain War had ended there hadn’t been any grand earth shaking threats to Shinra that he needed to fight. If a hero stopped heroing all of a sudden and vanished… it was obviously only so that they could dramatically return and save the day when people needed them most!

That was a “smart” and “right” fact which made sense and Kadaj had been quite proud of himself when he’d come up with it.

General Sephiroth was still out there… and if anything so horrible that even Kadaj couldn’t handle it showed up, Sephiroth would be there to save him. To look after his little brother. Because that was what families did: they cared for each other, and older brothers looked after little brothers when they got in trouble.

“I wish you could be here with me, Sephiroth….. I’m…. lonely...” Kadaj sighed as he withdrew his hand from the picture.

Talking to the doctors was all well and good, but Kadaj somehow instinctively knew that there was something special about himself, something that made him different from nearly everyone else.

The fact that he’d needed to spend an entire day learning how to drink water from anything that wasn’t made of plastic without irrevocably crushing it had also been something of a clue.

Still, there was a great big wonderful world full of people out there just waiting for Kadaj to meet them; he just wasn’t ready yet. If you tried to use a sword the moment you pulled it out of the forge, all you ended up with was lumps of molten metal dribbling down on your hands, after all.

Kadaj languidly returned to his bed, promising that he would let himself cool, let himself be tempered by time….

“Kadaj, we need you! Now!” One of the doctors insisted as the door to Kadaj’s room slid open all of a sudden.

Time moved a lot more quickly for heroes than it did for most people.

“What can I do to help?” Kadaj offered; his legs might as well have springs for how quickly he was off of his bed and across the room.

“Take this and help these men!” The doctor ordered, passing Kadaj a familiar sheath.

Despite the fact that he could tell by weight alone what it was, Kadaj still took a moment to pull a foot or so of Souba (his personal sword) out of its sheath just to make sure. He’d feel pretty silly (and he wouldn’t be able to protect people properly) if he only discovered that he’d been given the wrong weapon after a fight had already started! Once he’d done that, he turned his attention to the person dressed in the standard blue and black full body Shinra guard outfit with a brown cloth obscuring their face.

“Are you sure he’ll be able to help us?” The guard asked the doctor, his voice rough and masculine.

Kadaj tilted his head to the side quizzically, unsure why the guard was even asking that question, Kadaj was a hero, helping people was what he did!

“Kadaj, there’s some kind of monster that’s climbing up the mako reactor’s drilling shaft. Honestly, none of us have ever seen anything like this before, but we need to make sure that whatever happens, it doesn’t start damaging the reactor!” The Doctor explained.

“Because if it damages the reactor then people are in danger! Don’t worry, you can count on me to stop it!” Kadaj vowed.

“Just make sure to follow the Sergeant and do exactly what he says.” The doctor insisted, drawing forth another eager nod of agreement from Kadaj.

So Kadaj followed the Sergeant who was soon joined by eleven other people in Shinra guard uniforms, all of them with rifles drawn and at the ready.

“This better not just be some kind of weird drill.”

“They wouldn’t have let the Silver Freak out of its cage if this was just a test.”

“I still say something like this doesn’t just happen by accident. Who ever heard of a mako reactor being attacked from the inside?”

“Why would Shinra sabotage one of their own reactors?”

“Maybe they want to give the Silver Freak a real test, instead of robots armed with rubber bullets?”

“Without a care about whatever happens to us if we get caught in the middle?”

“Which is why we won’t get caught in the middle. Whatever happens, make sure the Freak is between us and this monster.”

The guards were talking to each other in whispers, and it would have been rude for Kadaj to point out that he could hear them just fine. It wasn’t nice to eavesdrop after all, though there was nothing Kadaj could do to stop his ears from picking up sounds that were too quiet for most humans to hear.

Besides, what the guards had said didn’t bother him, so he saw no reason to comment on it. Okay, in all honesty, it did bother him a little that they couldn’t make the effort to call him by his name. The fact that he had only one name should have made it twice as easy to remember after all!

Still, Shinra wouldn’t try to trick him into fighting a monster for them, why would they waste so much time and energy creating some sort ofconvoluted scheme when all they really needed to was just ask him for help?

So Kadaj followed the guards and allowed himself to be lead deeper into the small mako reactor which had had provided the substances that had been used to help him grow.

Deeper and deeper and deeper into the reactor until they finally reached its core. There, they took up positions along a catwalk above a huge pool of ominously bubbling glowing green liquid. Kadaj recognized it at once as the unprocessed mako that fed the reactor. He’d been told the stuff was extremely toxic, so he’d make sure not to end up accidentally splashing the stuff on the guards.

“Where is the monster you want me to fight?” Kadaj asked as he looked around; he’d never been this far down in the reactor before, but at the same time he couldn’t see anything that looked overtly dangerous.

The guards didn’t respond, so he simply unsheathed Souba, letting its hilt rest gently in his left hand, tips pointed down to the floor.

All of a sudden Kadaj felt it. It wasn’t something he could touch, see, hear, smell, or taste… but he could “feel” it all the same. Something big was coming!

One of the glowing green bubbles popped and a vaguely humanoid figured soared upwards, somehow managing to cross the entire distance from the pools of mako below to the catwalk in one jump, a feat not even Kadaj was sure he’d be able to pull off, at least on his first try.

Nonetheless, Souba was up in an instant, both blades pointed straight at the green figure.

“If you’re going to hurt any of them, you have to go through me first!”

Instead of attacking, the dripping green figure began to shake itself about wildly. Small droplets of glowing green were cast in all directions, and the guards fell back to avoid them. Kadaj didn’t bother to move though;why should he be afraid of the substance that had helped give him the power to be a hero?

As the glowing green liquid fell away Kadaj could see that beneath it was black fabric, an extremely long sword sheath, bright silver hair… and for the first time in his life he could see another set of green eyes with vertically slit pupils somewhere other than his mirror!

Souba dropped from suddenly limp fingers.

“Don’t fire, it’s General Sephiroth!” Kadaj called out.

There was a horrific “click” of firearms having their safeties disabled.

“DON’T FIRE, IT’S GENERAL SEPHIROTH!” Kadaj screamed wondering why he was the only one who could see the obvious.

The crack of a rifle being fired was so loud that it didn’t hurt Kadaj’s ears, it hurt his soul.

Then that single crack suddenly became a shameful symphony as all of the other guards started firing.

Bullets flew through the air, moving paradoxically impossibly fast and yet impossibly slow at the same time.

“IT’S GENERAL SEPHIROTH!” Kadaj howled like a wounded animal, and then somehow acting on pure instinct his hands moved with complete certainty.

Arcs of bright blue lightning leaped from his finger and shot forward, the magical manifestation of Kadaj’s refusal to allow this tragedy to continue unfolding.

The bullets were fast, but Kadaj’s lightning was faster. Each every single round was struck by a bolt of crackling electricity and sent spinning off course to slam harmlessly into the reactor’s walls.

Silence suddenly filled the room, but Kadaj knew that it couldn’t last, it wouldn’t last, unless he did something.

He spun around and faced the guards who had accompanied him.

“NOBODY HURTS MY BROTHER!” Kadaj roared.

The lighting didn’t leap from his fingers this time, it seemed to erupt from every part of his body. He could feel strands of electrical energy tearing free from his back, and then looping around in midair to lash out at the guards.

One by one, just like how he’d managed to deal with each of the bullets, Kadaj’s electrical discharge struck home against the ones who’d fired those shots in the first place.

There was a series of almost festive pops as unspent ammunition cooked off inside magazines.

As was always the way with lighting, the bolts Kadaj had summoned departed as quickly as they’d arrived. A moment later a dozen Shinra guards collapsed, their bodies smelling of ozone and cooked meat.

A thirteenth body joined them as Kadaj fell to his knees. He'd been told to protect those guards... and instead he'd.... he'd....

Kadaj felt bile and revulsion rise up in his chest, and forced himself not to surrender to despair. Heroes kept going no matter how bad the situation, no matter what mistakes they made. Not quite standing back up, but not quite shuffling forward on his knees either, Kadaj shambled over to the fallen guards.

Every Shinra guard carried at least one healing potion, it was company policy. Company policy, because Shinra cared about people and wanted to keep them safe.

One by one Kadaj gently forced each guard who he had shocked into submission to drink their healing potion.

He did whatever he could to make the situation better, that was what a hero did.

After he’d done that though instinct and training ran out, leaving behind only pain and guilt.

“I’m sorry Sephiroth.. if… if… if I’d been as good at leading troops as you are I could have convinced them not to fire! I could have made it work! I could have saved the day! I’m… I’m a failure of a little brother...” Kadaj moaned in anguish, turning about once more to face Shinra’s true hero.

XXX XXX XXX

General Sephiroth wasn’t sure what he’d expected to be waiting for him upon escaping the Lifestream… but it damn sure wasn’t this.

End Chapter

Chapter 3: Livin' in stereo, it's all right. Well I can be my own best friend...

General Sephiroth was not ready for this. He was not ready for this in the slightest. The fact that there were Shinra guards prepared to ambush him when he’d first emerged from the Lifestream was fine, Sephiroth had walked into (and inevitably out of) ambushes a great deal more deadly than a dozen men armed with assault rifles.

No, what completely blindsided him was the silver haired young man currently down on his knees trying and failing to choke back tears.

This was not a problem that could be solved by Sephiroth’s skill with a blade or magic, unless he was willing to simply kill the young man and then continue with his escape. Not really an option, now that said young man had just unleashed powerful magic on Sephiroth’s behalf.

So it looked like he was going to have to solve this problem his least favorite way… talking to other people.

Now that he’d decided what he was going to do, how the hell was he actually going to do it?

He took another moment to analyze what had just happened logically… hoping that “logic” would still still be useful in a situation this insane.

Put aside the fact that he’d called Sephiroth his brother; that was a problem for Future Sephiroth. This was a young man suffering from obvious mental fatigue after a combat experience. Sephiroth could work with that; this wasn’t the first victim shell shock he’d encountered.

Don’t think of him as a mysterious “what in the name of the Planet” enigma that made no sense, just think of him as a private fresh to the front line. All he had to do was get him capable of walking and talking again; somebody else would take care of things after that. Sephiroth desperately hoped somebody else would take care of things after that.

“What is your name?” Sephiroth asked.

“Kadaj,” the young man sniffled.

Then he rubbed his black gloves against his face and wiped away a few tears.

“I really screwed this up didn’t I?” Kadaj whimpered.

“They’re all still alive.” Sephiroth observed.

He wasn’t averse to killing people who tried to shoot him, but he wasn't particularly interested in a body count, either. Based on the youth's reaction, Kadaj really didn't want blood on his hands. Probably for the best; so long as it didn’t get in the way of winning battles a little squeamishness could be forgiven, it was certainly better than having to deal with a mad dog.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right.” A little more sniffling and slowly the tears stopped.

“You really are General Sephiroth… my big brother, right?” Kadaj pressed.

/Damn you, Past Sephiroth.\

“Lets…. talk… about the... ‘big brother’ thing. I don’t have any siblings.”

“Oh that’s easy to explain!” Kadaj’s face brightened and he jumped to his feet, doubt and remorse banished by sheer enthusiasm.

“The thing is, you didn’t have any siblings… then Shinra made me. I’m a clone based on your DNA, but allowing for different chromosome combinations, so if we were the same age we’d be fraternal rather than identical twins. I was was artificially aged in a tank full of mako harvested by this reactor!” Kadaj all but babbled with an a slightly too exuberant smile on his face.

That was a lot to unpack, even for General Sephiroth.

First, there was the fact that Shinra was trying to clone him. That did sound depressingly like something that they would do. Even when he was working for them, Sephiroth had been quite keenly aware of the fact that certain people high up in the Shinra organization (Simon cough Hojo) would have loved for him to be more tractable.

Secondly, just the fact that he was having this conversation meant that those same “certain people” had made disturbing progress relating to the mysterious project Sephiroth had discovered back at the Nibelheim reactor. Judging by Kadaj, Hojo wasn’t just making monsters anymore…. or maybe he was just making monsters that looked more like people? Sephiroth was going to have to do something about that, one more mission to add to a quickly growing list.

At the moment, his biggest problem was that Kadaj believed that Sephiroth’s and Shinra’s aims were still aligned. So what was the best strategy to co-opt Shinra’s newest biological superweapon?

“It’s so great that you’re back General Sephiroth; is there anything I can help you with?” Kadaj offered.

Sephiroth had heard of opportunity knocking, but this was the first time he’d experienced opportunity kicking your door down and leading a parade through your living room.

Still, how best to explain that when your big brother and the corporation he’d served for close to a decade stopped loving each other, it didn’t mean that your big brother had stopped having a vested interested in his little brother’s future?

“I do have a mission that I could use some help with. It is a mission that will require doing some things Shinra won't approve of...” Sephiroth tried to awkwardly ease his way into the matter.

Kadaj tilted his head to the side and gave Sephiroth a look that made him feel like he was trying to teach trigonometry to a toddler.

“Would it help if I explained all the bad things that Shinra has done to me? I’m willing, but… this isn't an ideal time to do so...” Sephiroth offered.

Kadaj’s head slowly began to move, but it just kept on moving so that it ended up tilted to the right rather than the left.

“What… what do you need help with?” Kadaj more or less repeated his previous question.

The silver haired general was tempted to tell his “little brother” that he wouldn’t believe exactly what sort of a problem Sephiroth was dealing with at the moment.

Then his brain helpfully reminded his instincts that he was talking to someone who thought discussing how he was Sephiroth’s clone was a perfectly good ice breaker. In that light, Sephiroth suspected that Kadaj would be willing to believe quite a lot, so long as it was Sephiroth telling it to him.

“There’s an ex-Shinra employe whose mind has been corrupted by an alien parasite. It commandeered his body, rewrote his priorities, and greatly amplified his aggression. It also made him powerful enough to survive our last encounter and has had several years to work on him since then. He’s already destroyed an entire small town; I need to stop him before he gets a chance to do it again.” Sephiroth admitted.

Kadaj broke into that disturbingly wide smile again, though it soon gave way to a series of awkward facial contortions and twitches before he somehow managed to both smile and frown at the same time.

“That’s good, I mean it's really bad for all the people who lived in the town… and now kind of aren’t living anymore… not to mention the possibility that other people might get hurt... but it totally sounds like a problem that I can help you with!” Kadaj promised.

Then the broken smile gave way to full frown.

“How exactly... do I help?” Kadaj wondered.

Sephiroth quickly created a mental checklist. This was going to be a lot different from the Wutain War, and while supply lines weren’t likely to be an issue, supplies still would be.

“Do you have money?” Sephiroth asked.

It was crass, but Sephiroth had never let crassness get in the way of completing a mission before.

“No...” A crestfallen Kadaj admitted.

“We’re going to go get some of it. Can you show me to the commissary?” Sephiroth inquired.

“The, what now?” Kadaj blinked in confusion.

“The place where people eat.” Sephiroth promptly clarified, not especially surprised that the term might fall outside the young clone’s vocabulary.

“Well, I eat in my room and...” Kadaj began.

In the time it would have taken Kadaj to figure how he wanted to finish that sentence Sephiroth had already done a little figuring of his own.

“Are you allowed to leave it whenever you want?” He asked, quite certain he already knew the answer.

“Not... really?” Kadaj admitted, his upbeat expression wilting once more.

It was almost disturbing how swiftly he switched between joy and sorrow, not to mention how openly he wore his emotions; Sephiroth was certain he’d never been like that, even as a child.

“If you can’t leave it whenever you want to, it isn’t your room; it’s your cell.” Sephiroth insisted.

Kadaj once again tilted his head to the side as his face was wracked by all too obvious confusion.

“But cells are for people who do bad things, and I haven’t done anything bad… well what I just did with the lighting was sort of bad, but I didn’t do anything bad before that, so why would Shinra be keeping me in a cell?” He ‘reasoned’; if you could call it that.

“Remember when I mentioned Shinra having done the bad things to me? They used to keep me in a cell even though I hadn’t anything bad either.” Sephiroth pointed out.

He was actually underselling the matter to be perfectly honest; “cell” implied that you were able to move around inside of it, what they’d kept Sephiroth would be more accurately called a cage.

“But if they did bad things to you… why did you help them so much?” Kadaj wondered.

“That’s a very long and complicated story that I’ll tell you at another time. Do you still want to help me on my important mission, or do I need to take care of it alone?” Sephiroth felt a slight twinge of guilt; he’d known Kadaj for less than five minutes and was already emotionally blackmailing him.

He didn’t have a choice though; if Shinra had sent Kadaj and a dozen guards down here, there were bound to be still more reinforcements arriving eventually. Sephiroth flat out didn’t have the hours of time necessary to explain each and every mistake he’d made over the course of his life which had lead him to the mess he currently found himself in.

“I’ll help! Can we escape without needing to hurt any of the doctors though? They’re always so nice to me!” Kadaj awkwardly flip flopped between enthusiastic offers and making requests.

“If they don’t try to stop me, I promise I won’t hurt them.” Sephiroth vowed.

Even with a brand new “recruit” to help him, though, Sephiroth knew that “personnel”, would have to remain his next priority, once “funding” was settled. He and Zack working together hadn’t quite been enough to get the job done the first time around. While Kadaj was an unexpected gift, war tended to favor the big battalions even if the type of “war” Sephiroth was planning on would probably have a different definition of “big” or even “battalion” for that matter.

Where else could he possibly get help from? He damn sure wasn’t going to go crawling back to Shinra now that he knew everything they’d done to him. The problem was that outside of Shinra personnel who would be willing to risk their lives to help him? Being completely honest with himself, while Sephiroth had been excellent at leading an army, actually… making friends… wasn’t his strong suit.

Then it came to him, there was one person he could think of… he just had to hope she was still alive, find out where she was, and hope that she was in the mood to drop whatever she was currently doing and help Sephiroth with his mission.

In short it was a long shot, but that was still better than no shot at all.

“Kadaj, follow me, we’re going to go find the commissary.” Sephiroth instructed, in the back of his mind suddenly aware that it had been five years since he’d last eaten, and some actual food might not go amiss alongside the funds he planned to plunder.

“Before we go, can I ask you one more question?” Kadaj implored, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“What is it?” Sephiroth replied, suddenly feeling more on edge than he had any other point in this conversation.

“Is it okay if I call you ‘Seph’, big brother?” Kadaj pleaded.

General Sephiroth had never kicked a puppy before, but now he knew exactly how the poor theoretical canine would look at him if he had… and it had been raining… and the puppy had two broken legs… and a broken tail it was still trying to wag….

“If you absolutely must.” Sephiroth finally caved, knowing full well he’d regret this that decision very soon and keep on regretting it for a very long time.

XXX XXX XXX

“Attention everyone in this research facility: yes I am General Sephiroth, and yes I am still alive. Before you even ask; yes I am also mildly miffed with the Shinra Electric Power Company over the little matters of leaving me for dead.

"That said, I also understand that the vast majority of you people are just trying to collect a paycheck. Some of you might even have fooled yourselves into thinking you’re making the world a better place. I’d suggest that all you spontaneously develop a cold, fever, or some other minor ailment and go home to get some sleep.” Sephiroth advised the first group of scientist he came across.

“Yeah, if you don’t follow my big brother’s advice you’re gonna regret it!” Kadaj added, substituting exuberance for actual charisma.

It was really impressive to Kadaj how quickly people moved to obey Sephiroth’s orders, but then, that was why he was General Sephiroth, after all!

A short while later the two of them finally managed to locate the “commissary” that Sephiroth was so interested in, and they even had the entire place to themselves!

“Kadaj, this is a vending machine.” Sephiroth explained, gesturing towards a large rectangle with three black sides and a single transparent one, with what looked like ration bars dangling tantalizingly inside it.

“Not only are they the quickest method of obtaining calories, but in a desperate situation, which this qualifies as, they’re also a quick method of obtaining hard currency.” Sephiroth paused, then glanced back at Kadaj.

"What I am about to do is not the normal method for using one of these." The lecture concluded.

He then shattered the transparent barrier with a casual, almost lazy, elbow strike. For a follow up, he kicked the side of the vending machine, bending it nearly in half and triggering a small flood of shining 25, 50 and 100 denomination gil coins from a little slot close to the bottom.

Kadaj couldn’t help but marvel at his older brother’s boundless wisdom.

Sephiroth then grabbed one of the ration bars that was dangling on some sort of rotating screw and headed over to the nearest table. On top of said table rested a laptop that Sephiroth had politely requested one of the departing scientist relinquish to help with his mission.

Siting down before it Sephiroth began to tap keys and Kadaj watched eagerly over his shoulder (after making sure to grab one of the ration bars for himself as well).

Kadaj chewed and swallowed faster than was entirely safe- it was Not Polite to talk with your mouth full, but his curiosity was becoming unbearable. After a five-second eternity, he could finally appease it.

"What are you doing?"

“Things seemed to have changed in the last five years, but I’m willing to bet Shinra hasn’t changed THAT much. If doing something would take effort, but not doing it won’t obviously cost them money, then no matter how reasonable it might be, they won’t do it. So, let’s find out if Shinra ever bothered to disable my company account….” As Sephiroth said those words, Kadaj couldn’t help but notice that it was the closest he’d yet seen his big brother get to smiling.

XXX XXX XXX

Reeve Tuesti had a morning routine. He liked routines; they were a wonderful way of fooling yourself into thinking that so long as you did the same thing every day you’d get the same results.

He entered his office with his own personal coffee mug held in his right hand. Once upon a time, that mug had born an amusing slogan about how irregular mental faculties were not a requirement for employment yet would still prove beneficial. Alas, time had worn away at the mug, much as it had the nerves of its owner.

By this point all that was left of the prior slogan was simply “be crazy, it helps”.

As one of the seven richest men on the planet, Reeve could have afforded a new mug… he could have afforded to buy a new coffee mug every day. For that matter, he could afford to simply toss his current coffee mug out the office window and endlessly repeat the process, buying a new mug to go with each cup of coffee he drank.

But this mug had been with him for a long time, he’d actually brought it with him on his first day of work at the Shinra Electric Power Company. Reeve looked down a the mug, and wondered if he could remember anything else about that day….

As familiar feelings of existential dread began to creep over him Reeve fought back the only way he could, by throwing himself into his morning routine. As the head of the Urban Development Department, Reeve was responsible for all of Shinra’s infrastructure, both physical and virtual.

That was why he started every morning with a review of Shinra’s web systems. Some days there were signs that the systems were being probed, and IP tracing often suggested that Wutai was to blame, while infiltration attempts launched from someplace closer to home could probably be blamed on an Avalanche cell.

Today, however, it seemed to be all quiet on the digital front. That, or whoever he was fighting with had managed to succeed so utterly and completely that Reeve wouldn’t even be aware he’d suffered a defeat until it was too late. It was thoughts like those that made Reeve so very glad he’d managed to convince President Shinra to make all the systems relating to the monitoring and functioning of the company’s mako reactors air-gapped and run on site.

What he didn’t like thinking about was how he’d obtained the funding for that particular project.

It had required him to simultaneously send reactors 1, 5 and 8 into a stage one meltdown from his cellphone mid-meeting.

If by some Diabolus Ex Machina his cellphone service had cut out and he’d been unable to send the commands to restore the reactors to normal functioning, then Reeve Tuesti would be the martyred saint of every Avalanche cell from Midgar to Rocket Town.

Still, just because today’s digital behavior seemed to be perfectly normal when viewed as a whole didn’t mean that there wasn’t a possibility of something slipping beneath his notice if he only looked at major trends. That was why Reeve’s morning routine always concluded with him doing a thorough inspection of Shinra’s “Black Server”.

Reeve had once tried to get the Black Server decommissioned and replaced with a series of locked filing cabinets, but Hojo and Scarlet had united against his efforts, insisting that Shinra needed to stand for the future and the future was not filing cabinets.

So instead Reeve just had to live with the fact that the Black Server existed and would continue to exist.

It was where Shinra stored all of its most heavily guarded data; its contents were so secretive that even Reeve wasn’t allowed to edit, read, or in some cases even view the names of its files.

Luckily, he was allowed to have a complete breakdown of who accessed the server and for what purposes. Analyzing this data helped calm Reeve’s nerves immensely most days, since access to the Black Server tended to happen for fairly obvious reasons (even if they were only obvious in retrospect) like how Hojo had been uploading massive amounts of data to the server over the last few weeks because of his recently announced successes in project Second Silver.

Second Silver was, much like the Black Server, a Shinra project that Reeve would have all too happily decommissioned. It wasn’t because abducting vagrants off of the street in order to use them as unwillingly guinea pigs for a science experiment was morally repulsive (which of course it was). It wasn’t because the project alone had a larger budget then the entire Urban Development Department (which it did). It wasn’t because it had dragged on for five years and only now was starting to produce something that might possibly be considered as a useful result (which indeed it had). It wasn’t because the very concept of trying to recreate someone whose genetics hadn’t exactly been baseline human to start with was fraught with all manner of complications (which it obviously was, hence the previously mentioned years going by without useful results). It was because at the end of the day the juice would never be worth the squeeze.

Even if somehow all the necessary pieces fell into place and Second Silver finally managed to generate a “New Sephiroth” for Shinra, what were they going to use him for? At the moment the only people who dared to “openly” oppose Shinra were Avalanche, and for some reason Reeve doubted that having a single invincible super-SOLDIER would be the most useful tool against a group of rebels whose favorite tactic was brief periods of high intensity violence before vanishing back into obscurity among Midgar’s civilian population.

Thankfully, many days (like today) went by without anyone even needing to access the Black Server.

Just as his routine inspection was wrapping up, a number on Reeve's screen changed. A green line representing data usage that had previously resembled a dead man’s heart-rate suddenly spiked upwards… much like Reeve’s own pulse.

It was just a coincidence and a bit of bad luck, he insisted to himself, taking a huge gulp from his coffee mug and beginning to run the data on where exactly the Black Server was being accessed from.

The answer that came back was… North Crater. At least, that was the answer for about ten seconds. Then the system insisted that the user in question was accessing the Black Server from the Gold Saucer. After that, it was Costa Del Sol, then Wutai, then Fort Condor and then from the moon itself!

Reeve told himself not to panic, this was normal, at least normal enough given the circumstances. Whoever was accessing the Black Server was either using a device with top of the line Shinra location jamming software, or was accessing it from a location that had been deliberately designed so that all devices inside of it would have their location obscured. That was fine, it was even a good sign, it was only when someone accessed the Black Server without taking security precautions that he would really need to start panicking.

Still, Reeve couldn’t help but dig a little deeper; what was this user doing, exactly?

As it turned out, they weren’t uploading data, nor were they accessing it; they were downloading information off of the Black Server.

“Oh dear.”

His fingers flew across the keyboard as he searched for still more information on this mysterious transaction. The file being downloaded covered the entire Nibelheim Incident and Shinra’s response to it.

Reeve grabbed the company ID of whoever was doing the downloading and cross checked it against the user database.

When he got the result his jaw went slack.

His rational left brain promptly decided to grab a picket sign and go on strike until it was given a more sane version of reality to interact with. Thankfully his instinctual right brain was willing to step in and pick up the slack.

Reeve’s fingers slammed against keys like he was trying to push some horrific monster back under the bed, then curled into a fist with which to pound the “ENTER” key hard enough that he was certain he’d need to buy a replacement.

That done, Reeve just sat there in his plush chair, his body so limp it was a surprise he didn’t end up sliding out of it and landing on the floor. His eyes gazed up in horror at the screen before him, as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

UPDATE Users
SET Active = ‘N’
WHERE UserFirstName = ‘Sephiroth’ AND UserLastName= ‘Sephiroth’;

Once the command had been executed all activity on the Black Server ceased.

Reeve began to reach out towards the paging device he used to contact Shinra’s “General Affairs Auditing Department” thinking that he needed to tell someone what had just happened.

Then… then he remembered a saying from his past, back when he was in college; obtaining a double major in business administration and economics. Back when he’d still naively believed a company needed to make its customers happy if they wanted to make a profit.

“The secret to good business organization is that all employees understand there comes a time when they must be willing to lead, follow or get out of the way...”

Reeve decided that the time had come for him to do what Reeve Tuesti did best whenever something important happened at the Shinra Electric Power Company…. get out of the way.

XXX XXX XXX

A red icon popped up in the corner of the screen informing Sephiroth that his connection had been terminated, roughly five seconds after he’d finished downloading the file.

He opened it up and, knowing that even he didn’t have time to read the entire thing, instead opted for a quick “find” command, looking for one name in particular.

To Sephiroth’s surprise the name showed up only once in the file, and the passage containing it only dealt with events before the incident truly began. He tried a few misspellings or abbreviations of the name but still found nothing of value.

Refusing to simply give up Sephiroth decided to try an entirely different approach.

Shinra had terminated Sephiroth’s personal access to the Black Server, but not to this laptop’s connection to the internet. If the greatest and most secret of Shinra’s files didn’t have the answer, maybe, just maybe, it was simply just laying out there on the web, waiting for anyone to find it.

Thankfully, despite five years having passed since he last checked, his favorite search engine “Moogle” was still around, and a few keystrokes later, and he had his answer: not only was she still alive, but she owned a bar in Sector Seven!

Well, at least someone with the same name was still alive. It might be a good idea to do a little bit more investigation of “Seventh Heaven” just to make sure he wouldn’t be wasting his time. Unsurprisingly, some hole in the wall bar from the slums didn’t have their own web presence, but if he checked out a site that aggregated information on various restaurants….

“Beer is cheap, mixed drinks are both quick and excellent, and owner is a knockout... Handsy drunks patronize at their own risk. Five out of five, would totally be... defenestrated again?” Kadaj “helpfully” read the top rated review of the establishment over Sephiroth’s shoulder.

Without a word Sephiroth closed the laptop and tucked it under his right arm.

“We need to leave before Shinra’s reinforcements arrive. Kadaj, we’re going bar hopping.” Sephiroth announced.

“That sounds great, Seph! What’s bar hopping?”

End Chapter.

AN: An “air-gapped” system is a computer system that has no connection to the wider internet at all, and instead must be accessed from a particular physical location. In real life nuclear power plant systems are air-gapped for exactly the same reason that Reeve convinced Shinra to air-gap their mako reactors.

Chapter 4: The brazen brass of the working class are here to find their voice.

Tifa Lockhart took a moment to assess the patrons of her establishment as she came out from behind the bar. As the lone owner, bartender, waitress and bouncer, she liked to stretch her legs and make sure no one looked likely to start any trouble.
Tonight, it seemed to be just usual crowd: roughnecks, ne'er do wells, people down on their luck, and other unfortunates who found her establishment a good place to spend the evening. It was wings night, so there were actually as many people eating their dinner as drinking it, for a change.

Then she saw him.

Most of Seventh Heaven’s visitors were relaxing and enjoying themselves, but one occupant seated at the small circular table by himself was crouched low over his food. The guy’s stance reminded her of a feral animal, fearful that to let their eyes wander was to invite his food being snatched away.

He needn’t have worried; Seventh Heaven wasn’t exactly high-class, but if anyone in her bar was foolish enough to steal from her customers, Tifa would show them the door- and a few other things, as well.

Seventh Heaven was nice like that; it was hers, and Tifa Lockhart would always fight to protect her home.

Next to being a professional therapist or police interrogator, there were few occupations that could teach you how to read people like being a bartender. Tifa turned her practiced gaze on this unusual occupant, trying to figure out just how much she should be worried about him.

To start with there was his hair; silver was a color more frequently gifted to people by a dye bottle than genetics. Not only that, but the only kind of people who tended to be interested in dying their hair silver were….

One quick glance down at his outfit confirmed her suspicions.

/Oh Planet, he’s a Sepher!\

Among General Sephiroth's more dubious 'achievements' was the speed with which his distinctive look had been copied by those with more money than sense; even five years after he had vanished, there were still those rich hipsters trying to look “cool” or “dashing” by dressing in all black leather.

Her mystery man certainly met that qualification. Sepher Score: 1.

Not only was her Sepher wearing black leather, but his clothing was too clean, and too new, for him to have spent any real time in the slums.

Still, it wasn’t like she had grounds to criticize him; she was perfectly aware of the fact that the sight of her tending bar and serving food in a white crop-top and black miniskirt helped reel in new customers and bring back repeat business. Nothing wrong with dressing to impress.

With a mental shrug, Tifa continued her analysis.

He had obviously dyed his hair silver. Sepher Score: 2.

He was drinking water, which didn’t exactly set off alarm bells, but did set gears turning in Tifa’s head; most people in Seventh Heaven wanted beer, if not something harder.

A quick glance at his baby smooth face suggested that either her mystery man owned the only sharp razor in Sector Seven, (where every man tended to sport some kind of facial hair, even if it was just stubble left over from using the cheapest razors Shinra sold) or was young enough that she should be grateful he was sticking to water.

Of course, Tifa wasn’t especially concerned about the possibility of some petty Midgar functionary showing up to shut down Seventh Heaven because she was serving booze to minors; no, it’d take a Turk strike team to shut down her bar.

While his beverage of choice wasn’t too strange, the way he interacted with it was. He’d stuck his fingers into his glass of water and was lazily swishing them back and forth against the ice cubes. Not only that, but his expression as he stirred his drink wasn’t one of boredom, but rather intense interest.

Looking closer, she should see that not only was he wearing a sword, but it was on his right hip, making it easier to draw if its wearer was left handed. It was possible this guy actually was both a southpaw and a competent swordsman, but statistically far more likely that he was a poseur who'd trip over his sword in the act of drawing it.

Deducting half a point for uncertainty, she still felt comfortable bumping his "Sepher Score" up to a conservative 3.5.

Green eyes: maybe natural, probably not. Mako glow: reflective contacts. Sepher Score: 4.5.

He wasn’t the first Sepher she’d seen in Seventh Heaven, but it’d be an overstatement to say she saw one every month, or even every other month. Sephers were inevitably rich, and if there was one word that did not describe the population of Sector Seven, it was “rich”.

So what was a rich kid doing in the middle of Sector Seven on his own? Well “kid” might not be entirely fair, he looked to be within two or three years of Tifa’s own age, but there was something about her mystery customer which projected an air of “youth” about him.

“Thanks.”

It seemed that her young Sepher had noticed what she was doing, which was to be expected; Master Zangan had warned her about how as you studied someone, you were inevitably giving them a chance to study you in turn.

“You’re welcome.” She replied to the Sepher, though she still having no idea exactly what he was thanking her for.

The chance to finally look him directly in the eye revealed that some how he’d managed to give his pupils the same sort of cat like vertical slit look that General Sephiroth’s had.

That was a new one; Tifa knew you could get “mako contacts,” but cat's eye lenses were a bit much. Definitely worth a point and a half. Image was one thing, but half-blinding yourself in pursuit of it?

Sepher Score: 6!

He raised up one of the hot wings he’d ordered, then forced the entire thing past his lips to casually chew it up and swish its juices around his mouth before swallowing.

“These are great!” He all but moaned with pleasure.

Tifa wanted to avoid getting drawn too deeply down this particular rabbit hole a second time, but couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the event she’d just witnessed.

Normal people did not eat hot wings like that.

Roughly five seconds from now, he should be either screaming in pain, or desperately chugging from his water glass, before following it up with someone else’s glass for good measure. On top of which, wearing leather gloves to eat wings was just ridiculous; the cleanup would be a nightmare.

Sepher Score: 7.

Tifa waited, but the Sepher showed no signs of having just scorched half of his taste-buds to ash.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr...?” Tifa trailed off, hoping she could at least get a name to put to the Sepher’s face.

“It’s Kadaj, just Kadaj.”

Tifa couldn’t keep her eyebrows from shooting upwards in surprise. This guy insisted on acting like he had only one name?

With that 3-point finisher, Just Kadaj's Sepher Score was an absolutely perfect 10 out of 10!

Somewhere in Upper Midgar, (because there was no way they lived beneath the Plate) this poor (in a strictly non-financial sense) boy’s parents were probably worried sick about him, assuming they cared where he was.

With that final detail, even if she hadn’t managed put the entire puzzle of Kadaj together; she had enough pieces to see a general outline.. It was obvious that neither she or her patrons had anything to be worried about from him.

Which meant she had a bar in need of running.

A she started to turn away, he spoke up again.

“Your eyes… they’re totally amazing, you know...”

“Thanks.”

It was far from the first time she’d had her eyes complimented since opening Seventh Heaven, though to Kadaj’s credit, he was actually looking at them when he did it.

A long time ago, Tifa’s eyes had been deep brown, but these days they were mahogany, and there was nothing artificial about their mako glow.

XXX XXX XXX

General Sephiroth waited in the shadowy alley between Seventh Heaven and its nearest neighbor, watching for any sign of Kadaj or Tifa Lockhart. Even after being “dead” for five years and in a slum, he was still certain that he’d be recognized all too quickly should he just walk into Seventh Heaven. So instead, he’d sent Kadaj in, with orders to find way to convince Miss Lockhart to go outside with him.

As he waited, one thought kept running through his head again and again, he wished he still had his old second in command with him.

Not only because he had worked alongside Zack long enough to trust him like he’d never trusted anyone else, but because if there had ever been a SOLDIER who could be counted on to forge a friendly relationship with a bartender, it was Zack Fair.

XXX XXX XXX

The rest of the night passed normally enough; people ordered food and drinks, Tifa provided them.

'Just Kadaj' had somewhat improbably hung around and, over the course of the evening, consumed three more orders of hot wings. At this point, Tifa could only assume that he must have suffered some kind of tragic wax-related accident as a child; the human mouth simply did not handle that much capsaicin that casually.

When every other customer had departed Tifa was tempted to start explaining to Kadaj exactly how the concept of “closing time” worked, but he managed to beat her to the punch.

“My older brother really wants to meet you, he’s waiting just outside!” He declared with a cheerful smile.

This was a new one to Tifa.

Yes, she was familiar with the concept of a “wing-man”, but it usually worked with two men being present at the same time. For that matter, Tifa could grasp the idea of a shy younger brother sending their more mature and experienced older brother in to break the ice, but why would an older brother use Kadaj to try and build a rapport with her?

On top of all that, given how Kadaj’s older brother was unquestionably rich (and probably also a Sepher), why hadn’t he just swaggered into Seventh’s Heaven and started throwing his money around if he wanted to impress Tifa? It wouldn’t have worked of course, but rich jerks often had more money than common sense.

All this was strange, very strange.

“Why didn’t your brother come himself?” Tifa couldn’t help but ask.

“He’s not as big a fan of crowds as I am.” Kadaj shrugged.

Kadaj had sat by himself all evening, at a corner table, protecting his food like a starving animal and talking to nobody but her.

“I’m a little busy tonight.” Tifa turned her back on Kadaj, returning to gathering up glasses and plates.

“He told me that if you didn’t want to see him, I should tell you, that he knew you back in, Nib-el-heim.” Kadaj pleaded, though he struggled with how to pronounce Tifa’s hometown.

The rag Tifa had been cleaning with dropped to the bar, her fingers numb with shock.

There weren’t that many people in Midgar who she’d known before leaving Nibelheim, and none of them had struck it so amazingly rich that they could have a Sepher for a younger brother.

What was going on?

Tifa began to feel a growing sense of curiosity; a desperate need to get to the bottom of this mystery, just so that she could finally stop asking herself questions about Kadaj and his theoretical older brother.

Ever since she’d left Nibelheim, Tifa had been training herself in how to spot a problem in the making before it got a chance to blossom. Right now, Kadaj’s offer was a very big possible problem in the making… but for some reason she just wasn’t smart or cynical enough to turn him down flat.

“Let me go take care of one thing first, then I’ll meet your brother, I promise.” Tifa offered.

Then she went to the backroom of Seventh Heaven and put on her gloves.

While Tifa was tending bar she didn’t wear gloves. Sector Seven was a tough town, but not that tough. It was only when she went out to do errands that she actually donned a pair of reinforced black fingerless gloves; they were subtle, but the materia slots at the wrists and the metal plates over the knuckles kept her from being mistaken for easy prey by anyone savvy enough to be dangerous.

Mixing drinks and serving food could be done with bare hands if you were careful enough, but some things, some things would always end up getting your hands dirty.

“All right, take me to him.” Tifa sighed after returning to the main room.

Kadaj nodded eagerly, seemingly oblivious to just what the change in Tifa’s hand-wear implied. Without further ado, he stood up and motioned for her to follow. First outside of Seventh Heaven, and then into the dark alley between it and the neighboring building

Before she could inform Kadaj that she hadn’t been born yesterday, (even if this was the most polite lead up to a mugging she’d ever encountered) his mysterious sibling stepped out of the alley.

All of a sudden, everything somehow simultaneously made so much more, and yet so much less sense.

As she struggled to wrap her head around that impossibility, it happened…

Face to face with a Kadaj’s older brother, Tifa suddenly found herself being briefly dragged down by her own memories, like a swimmer caught in an undertow.

XXX XXX XXX

Flames flickered and crackled all around her... she didn’t feel hot... she didn’t even feel warm… she felt…. so dreadfully... cold...

“Hold on girl; you’re not gonna die, I promise you. You’re in a bad way, but my boss can do anything if he sets his mind to it!” Strong hands. Frantic blue eyes. Spiky black hair.

“I … didn’t mean for any of this to happen… I’m sorry.” A rich baritone, tight with fury and regret. A flash of silver, shimmering at the edge of her vision.

XXX XXX XXX

The owner of Seventh Heaven looked better than she had the last time they’d met. Not that looking better than “on the cusp of death” was an especially difficult task.

“Tifa Lockhart. You... probably don’t remember me...”

“You’re General Sephiroth; everyone remembers you. Reports of your death..?”

“Were true enough." Excellent, ice broken, moving on.

"I have a mission that I could use your help with. You have a stake in this, but you should know that it will land you on Shinra's bad side.”

In the blink of an eye, all uncertainty and confusion fell from her face and she eagerly grabbed his left hand with both of hers.

“I have some friends you need to meet, now.” Tifa insisted, leading Sephiroth back towards Seventh Heaven.

/It is disturbing how quickly she’s agreed to this.\ Sephiroth couldn’t help but reflect.

For the first time in his life; General Sephiroth consented to being dragged someplace more private by a pretty young woman, Kadaj following eagerly in their wake.

Once they’d gone back inside, she turned her attention to one of the Seventh Heaven’s two pinball machines and began to fish gil coins out of her skirt’s pockets. While she did so, Sephiroth read a small sign by the machine and did some mental math.

“You’re cheating your customers. It costs twenty five gil for one game, so your Seventh Heaven Special of seven games for three hundred and fifty gil is actually giving them fewer plays than if they just bought each play individually. Do you count on people not being able to figure that out?” Sephiroth pondered aloud while Tifa fed coin after coin into the machine.

“No, we want them to figure it out.” Tifa admitted, as the “Seventh Heaven Special” light flickered to life on the machine and then she hit the “start” button.

A moment later the pinball machine started to descend into the floor taking Sephiroth and Tifa down with it.

Sephiroth was grudgingly impressed; secret passages were always a compromise between ease of accessibility and providing actual security, This one seemed to have hit the sweet spot of being easy to use, while at the same time extremely unlikely for a normal person to blunder into accidentally.

“Kadaj, don’t break anything.” He warned his little brother who had been standing far enough back that he wasn’t being lowered downwards.

The sinking pinball machine took Sephiroth into a hidden basement that was littered with boxes, machinery, computers, and a TV screen. It seemed that Shinra had failed to notice a great deal more about Tifa Lockhart than simply that she was still alive.

The room had a single occupant; General Sephiroth was tall enough that he normally dominated any room he entered, but he was fairly certain this man had several inches on him.

The dark-skinned man had clearly been in his share of fights; his opaque sunglasses and open vest did nothing to hide his collection of scars, to say nothing of his missing right hand. In its place, he had a light machine gun mounted just below the elbow, fed by a collection of sickle magazines.

Said weapon was currently pointed directly at the secret room’s two new arrivals.

This didn’t dissuade Tifa from making introductions once the pinball machine finally stopped descending.

“General Sephiroth, this is Barret Wallace. Barret, this is General Sephiroth.” She explained.

The built in assault weapon switched its target, now instead of being pointed in the pairs’ general direction it was focused on Sephiroth’s center of mass.

“You do realize that you just lead Shinra’s number one attack dog right into our hidden base?” Barret growled.

“It has been five years since Sephiroth did anything to help Shinra. He brought up the idea of picking a fight with them before I could. He could help us, a lot.” She insisted in turn.

Barret relaxed his posture ever so slightly, but not enough that Sephiroth wasn’t still getting ready to dodge a hail of bullets. The situation was made especially hard to predict because Sephiroth had no idea exactly which muscles Barret would need to tense for him to fire a gun that surely had no conventional trigger.

“I’ll admit she's got a point about you no longer being Shinra’s top troubleshooter, but I’d damn sure like to know what you actually have been doing recently.”

“I was dead.”

“But you got better?”

“I was trapped in a twilight between life and death where I was able to communicate with all those who had come before; searching for the voices of those who would give meaning to my existence.” Sephiroth decided he might as well try the actual truth; it had worked with Kadaj.

“So you spent the last half a decade in the Lifestream? Is that what made you finally decide to wake up and smell Shinra’s bullshit?”

“Five years gave me a lot of time to think. I realized that a company which thinks sixteen year old children should serve as front-line combat troops didn’t have my best interests at heart.

"I've got more reason than anyone to hate Shinra. Sadly, I’ve also got more important things to do than get revenge on every single person who ever wronged me-”

“More important?!” Barret stomped hard enough to shake a layer of dust off the wall.

“What you gotta deal with that’s more important that the whole Planet, General?” He mockingly threw Sephiroth’s (former?) title back in his face.

“All I’m trying to do is save as many lives as I can. Right now, I’ve already got one mission that deals with making good on my past mistakes. If you really believe that I can do something that will help the entire Planet, now's your chance to convince me.” Sephiroth had no intention of sidelining his current mission, but it couldn't hurt to hear them out.

“If you’ve personally been in the Lifestream, you have to realize what Shinra’s doing to it. The scholars of Cosmo Canyon have something they call the ‘Lifestream Theory,’ in short, the belief that Shinra’s reactors are slowly drinking it dry, one drop of mako at a time.” Tifa cut in, her tone gentler than Barret's.

“It ain’t just a theory either...” Barret grumbled as he finally lowered his weapon and stomped over to the room’s computer.

Its keyboard was clearly set up in something other than the standard “qwerty” layout, a practical choice if its primary user had only five fingers.

“I can’t believe that you spent five years doing nothing but floating in the Lifestream, and still couldn’t hear the planet’s pain! That’s like living in a house that’s burning to the ground without ever smelling the smoke. I can’t believe I got to convince you of a truth that should be clearer to you than anyone else on the Planet! If you wanna see the cold hard numbers, well take a look...

"Every year all across the Planet, farms buy more fertilizer, people buy more drugs to help them conceive, and more children are being born with birth defects. Well, all across the Planet… except for Wutai. Pretty funny, isn’t it? That the one place which doesn’t have a mako reactor squatting on top of it, is the one place where statistics don’t indicate that life itself seems to be getting harder and harder to come by?” Barret grumbled as the computer screen began to fill with various spreadsheets.

Sephiroth placed the laptop he’d been carrying with him gently down on top of a nearby cardboard box before taking some time to examine Barret’s figures.

The changes were slight, only a percent of a single percentage point every year… but they trended up too steadily for it just to be random chance. Everything seemed to be adding up, but he needed to be certain that this wasn’t simply a case of cherry-picked data.

“Can I double check your sources?”

“Be my guest.” Barret tone wasn’t especially inviting, but he stood back and allowed Sephiroth access to the computer.

After spending some more time on Moogle, Sephiroth was able to determine two important things: first, that Barret’s numbers were indeed all coming from reputable sources, and second, that there had been no reports of entire towns being slaughtered and burned to ground recently.

Whatever was going on, it seemed that he wasn’t willing to show his hand yet… and Sephiroth couldn’t just go chasing after a foe he had no idea how to find, not when this important mission had just gotten dropped in his lap.

For something that sounded so outlandish on the face of it, the Lifestream Theory fit perfectly with Sephiroth’s experiences. There was not a single an ounce of doubt in his mind that Shinra would be all too happy to strip mine the entire planet; after what they’d done to him, there was no line they wouldn’t cross in search of a profit.

It could also explain why he'd been unable to find his mother, no matter how hard he'd looked: because after she’d died, Shinra had sucked her essence out of the Lifestream and burned it away for a handful of gil!

Sephiroth had killed his mother… but the Shinra Electric Power Company had turned her into a light bulb.

With a cold smile, he turned back to Barret.

“Your ideas are intriguing to me and I wish to enlist in your terrorist cell.”

End Chapter

AN: Just to be clear if you hadn’t figured it out yet, in this AU the Nibelheim Incident happened a “little” differently than canon. That’s why Tifa isn’t reacting to the sight of Sephiroth with righteous anger or fear for her life. It is also why Tifa’s personality will have developed slightly differently post Nibelheim. The existence of project “Second Silver” is likewise tied into those events.

As for Tifa’s eyes, there’s a saying about creating a party in a Star Wars RPG, “All Jedi or No Jedi”. It basically boils down to, if there’s a source of superpowers in your setting, it behooves you to make sure that either everyone in your party has access to said superpowers or no one does.

It sort of breaks my suspension of disbelief in Final Fantasy VII where the SOLDIER program is supposed to make people superhuman badasses, but Cloud (at least in the game, Advent Children is another story I’ll admit) who has gone through at the very least a jury rigged version of it, isn’t massively stronger than any of the characters like Tifa, Barret, Cid, or Yuffie who are completely baseline human beings.

So in the interest of world building, none of the protagonists in this story are going to be badass normals. The story of how Barret and Tifa go their enhancements will be revealed as Avalanche gets more comfortable around its two newest recruits.

As for the “Seventh Heaven Special”, well it was the best idea I could think of to explain how the Avalanche secret basement could exist and be accessed via pinball machine elevator, without risking customers accidentally blundering into it. It is certainly a better security set up than how the remake handles it, where it seems all you have to do is flip a switch on the underside of the machine.

I would be remiss if I don’t take a moment to mention that height in Final Fantasy Seven is stupid. If you look at the wiki it’ll tell you that Sephiroth is 6’1, and Barret is 6’6, with certain game materials rounding it down to 6’5. So far, so good.

If you watch certain scenes in the remake though Sephiroth is taller than Barret. Not only that, but according Crisis Core Zack is 6’3, and I sure as heck can’t find anything that’s ever portrayed Zack as being two inches taller than Sephiroth. In short (pun not intended), between Sephiroth or Barret who is taller is a somewhat convoluted mess that depends on which sources you’re looking at. I’m aware that this an issue with room for disagreement, let us move on.

Finally, I’m amazed that as far as I can tell, I seem to be the first one to come up with the “Sepher” concept. It has no real basis in any of the cannon stuff we’ve see in any of the games, movies, books, etc; but consider how many people cosplay as Sephiroth at anime conventions. Then ask yourself how many more people they would be doing that if Sephiroth was a real person, and also the equivalent of George Washington (or at least Dwight D. Eisenhower). Now try and tell me that in the world of Final Fantasy Seven, Sephiroth’s look/style wouldn’t constitute a marketable aesthetic (until he came back and tried to kill everyone of course...)

Chapter 5: I like Oreos and kitties, YES IN THAT ORDER!

“It’s the most, wonderful time, of the year...” Hummed Reno to himself as he all but danced into room B3 of Shinra HQ, home to the General Affairs Auditing Department.

He was being entirely sincere. Today truly was the highlight of his year, or at least the highlight of his fiscal quarter.

Today was the day when the Shinra Electric Power Company General Affairs Auditing Department received feedback on its auditing!

“When the paperwork comes calling, and you’ve got every single reason to be of good cheer!” Reno continued to sing as he made a beeline for the “in” tray on Tseng’s desk.

Reno didn’t have a desk of his own in the room, but that didn’t matter. He’d earned this particular pleasure the same way he earned everything else; being so good at it that eventually everyone simply stopped making a fuss.

He’d thrown himself into this particular task like a man with actual morals would collapse on a grenade in a maternity ward. He’d devoted countless hours of his life to it; checking spreadsheets, and even going so far as to actually review the company’s current policy documents! He’d made sure that not a single fraudulent expense item managed to avoid his notice.

In short... he’d actually done his job.

Lots of people at Shinra thought that accounting and auditing were boring but necessary tasks that someone would inevitably have to take care of, and they were fine with that, provided that someone wasn't them.

Reno felt those people were incurably lazy.

When approached with the right attitude, accounting could be an adventure! Reno embraced the files on Tseng’s desk like a long lost lover, and breathed deep; the smell of printer paper and dry ink somehow managing to come a close second to fermenting hops.

“It’s the most, wonderful time, of the year...” Reno repeated to himself as he departed the meeting room, and headed for the elevator.

The Turk knew that he’d have to go up several dozen floors in order to get to the bottom of these documents!

A lesser man might have ignored paperwork that didn’t directly effect their own job, but not Reno! No, never Reno!

Because right now, the sheets of paper he held in his hands made him the second most powerful man on the Planet.

Not even a department head could overrule President Shinra’s findings on what was or was not an acceptable expense for the company, and Reno worked hard to make sure the President found plenty of things to object to!

“It's the hap-happiest season of all...” Reno crooned as the elevator carried him upwards.

Then there was a soft “ding”, and a moment later his nostrils were assaulted by a powerful aroma of antiseptic.

This was the only part of Reno’s auditing adventure that he didn’t completely enjoy, which was why he did it first. The Shinra Science Department was home to things that even the Turks didn’t like looking at or thinking about.

Reno approached this mission with much the same mindset as he would wetwork: you got in, you found the target, you took care of business, and you got out. Reno made a beeline for the main laboratory, squinting his eyes to try and induce a mild case of tunnel vision.

Once said squinted eyes had located his target, Reno unloaded on them without pity, empathy, hesitation or remorse.

“Department Head and Professor Simon Hojo of the Shinra Science Division, President Shinra has directed me to inform you that though this company is extremely diversified, we are at the end of the day running a power company, not a jewelry store. Therefore, the cost of your latest purchases; which for some reason you decided to make without waiting for approval first, will be deducted straight from your next paycheck, with an additional 10% fee for misappropriation of company finances.” Reno announced with the air of a herald reading the charges at a beheading.

With due haste, abetted by an arcing electrical discharge, Reno departed the room. To remain behind a single second longer was to give Professor Hojo had a chance to unleash a torrent of polysyllabic rage at: him, President Shinra, the world in general for not recognizing his genius, and all of the above for trying to thwart the scientific breakthrough of the century, if not millennium!

That had been fun at first, but the longer it dragged on, the less funny it got. Somewhere around the point where he was insisting that Reno was a “chemically coddled child” the Turk began to suspect that Hojo might actually be so mad that he’d be willing to risk President Shinra’s wrath in order to punish the bearer of bad news.

So, as enjoyable as it was to tweak the nose of someone who thought he was the smartest person on the Planet, Reno didn’t stick around to bask in the afterglow of that particular victory.

Besides, he had so many other important appointments today; it would be rude to keep them waiting!

XXX XXX XXX

“Department Head Scarlet of the Shinra Advanced Weapons Division, President Shinra has found some alarming figures in relation to the ‘Sister Ray’ we currently have installed in Junon. Given Shinra’s current uncontested hegemony over the world, he wonders why exactly we’re continuing to pay massive amounts of gil to maintain the combat readiness of a gigantic cannon that would be overkill even if used on a certain tourist trap.

He would appreciate it if within the next week you could present him with a report that justifies in greater detail why exactly we shouldn’t just break the thing apart and sell it for scrap metal… especially the light of how General Sephiroth managed to bring the Wutain War to a decisive conclusion before the Sister Ray could be completed, thus it has yet to provide ANYTHING of value to our organization.” Reno read out the announcement while keeping his eyes carefully locked on Scarlet’s blue ones.

Reno was not normally the sort of man to pass on an eyeful of proffered female flesh, but Scarlet wanted men to look at her with an uncomfortable mix of desire and fear; refusing to take the bait was just another way of twisting the knife!

XXX XXX XXX

“Excellent work on your latest expense report Department Head Palmer of the Shinra Space Division! President Shinra could find no items you requested that were not clearly and obviously linked to your department’s functions!” Reno announced while sticking his head to an office that was far far too large for the amount of work that was done in it.

In point of fact, a typical restroom stall might be somewhat oversized for the amount of work done in this office.

This was the auditing equivalent of kicking a man while he was down, but Reno didn’t care.

Palmer made several times Reno’s salary without having to risk his life against terrorists, maniacs, and maniacal terrorists. In fact, Palmer, made several time Reno’s salary without doing anything at all, not even putting effort into hiding the fact that he wasn’t working!

There was no Shinra Space Department, but for some reason- Reno suspected that he must have been golf buddies with President Shinra once upon a time- Palmer still hung around the office drinking his lard flavored tea and collecting paychecks.

Now, on one hand, Reno could appreciate anyone who had a good grift going; on the other hand though, all Palmer seemed to enjoy doing was complain about his lack of budget. In other words, asking for more work, even though he already had exactly the perfect amount of work- none- to deal with!

That was why Reno didn’t mind subtly reminding him that it had been years since he’d last even filed an expense report. Delivering that subtle reminder with great exuberance to anyone who might be in earshot was just another example of Reno going the extra mile to see a job done right!

XXX XXX XXX

“Department Head and General Heidegger of the Shinra Public Safety Division, I have some important news for you.” Reno began, before taking a moment to examine exactly what sort of mood Heidegger was in.

Though Reno had no worries for his own personal safety at the moment, he was very much aware that saying the wrong thing might cause the bureaucratic cold war that currently existed between Public Safety Department and the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department to get real hot, real fast.

There had been a brief time when Heidegger had managed to weasel his way into being in a position where he could give Reno orders, and Reno had not cared for that; both on principle and because said orders were profoundly idiotic. That particular crisis had only ended up being resolved by the mutual agreement that the Turks would follow any orders Heidegger gave them, on the provision that Heidegger would never again actually give them any orders.

In the wake of saving the world from some eco-terrorist nut job, Tseng had gone from strength to strength; launching a brilliant inter-corporation hostile takeover by having the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department first muscle in on, then completely absorb Shinra’s Auditing Department. Not only had this greatly increased the “soft power” that the Turks could be wield within the company, but it served as an unspoken threat. Any further encroachment on the freedom of the Turks to disregard orders not given to them by the President would be responded to with yet more aggressive mergers.

Nobody (least of all Tseng) wanted Tseng to hold bureaucratic power equivalent to the other major Department Heads, but the possibility was out there. If they had to, the Investigation Sector would continue to absorb other minor departments (per Tseng’s “big board”, the company’s Shipping, Receiving, and Interoffice Parcel Delivery Department was scheduled to be the next innocent caught in the crossfire) until there was no way to run Shinra without playing nice with the Turks.

In short, there were times when Reno privately pondered if maybe, just maybe, despite being the most profitable corporation in all of human history, that the Shinra Electric Power Company was failing to “embrace its core competencies” (whatever the hell that meant). Such thoughts were typically prompted by reflection on how when he heard the phrase “the enemy”; Reno didn’t think of Wutai and its ninjas, he didn’t think of Avalanche and their tree-huggers, he thought of General Heidegger and the Public Safety Department who couldn’t leave well enough alone and simply let the Turks do their job.

So after taking another moment to look General Heidegger straight in his eyes, Reno got to work.

“The President wished me to inform you that your request for additional mako allocation in order to create another 1,000 SOLDIERs will have to wait until you’re able to prove that you can achieve some success against the company’s enemies with the ones you already have.” Reno announced calmly and dispassionately.

Then with all but military precision he strode out of the room.

He even waited patiently for the elevator doors to completely close before flipping off Heidegger with both hands.

XXX XXX XXX

There was one stop left, the Urban Development Department. Of all the ones he was visiting today, it had the smallest budget, and was led by a man with the nerves of a long tailed cat in a preschool full of rocking chairs.

In short, it was the perfect place to round out Reno’s little bad news cruise.

“Mr. Tuesti, I’m here with feedback from President Shinra on your recent expense report!” Reno announced and was sorely tempted to use his phone to blast Toccata and Fugue in D minor throughout the entire office just to drive the point home.

Reeve Tuesti looked up from his work with the strained expression and sleepless eyes of a man who’d seen too much and didn’t drink enough to let him routinely forget it.

“Yes?” Reeve answered, a slight quiver in his voice.

“President Shinra has decided to approve your most recent expense request of a five hundred million gil for the purposes of building a robot cat. He also gave a thumbs up to the billion gil for a gigantic robot moogle for said robot cat to ride around on, with both of these expenditures being for the purpose of ‘improving office morale’.

In fact, I am pleased to report that they are already working; morale has shown a remarkable uptick in the General Affairs Auditing Department ever since we received your expense report!” Reno declared, and then was out of the room before Reeve had a chance to respond.

Holding the paperwork close to his chest, Reno smiled so wide it hurt.

He did a perfect job of completely spotting each and every single possible flaw in every department head’s paperwork…. and then he’d hide Reeve’s properly marked expense reports underneath his suit. At the end of the day, he’d take it home, push aside a locked filing cabinet he kept filled to the brim with interoffice birthday party announcements, pry up his floorboards, retrieve an ever-fuller briefcase from its hidden storage compartment, disengage the anti-tampering device rigged to incinerate the contents, and deposit the report for posterity.

What actually wound up on President Shinra’s desk was the bureaucratic equivalent of an otherwise blank sheet of paper saying that there was nothing at all wrong with Urban Development’s latest request. This inevitably lead to President Shinra (who was far too busy running the world to read his own company’s policies or paperwork) approving whatever Reeve wanted.

Reno didn’t do it for reasons as mundane as Reeve having been able to buy his favor with a couple bottles of (admittedly exceptional) liquor. Nor was he doing it to get an easy mark into a situation where they were hopelessly indebted to him. No, Reno did it because he was performing an experiment, the likes of which even Professor Hojo's twisted mind might not have contrived.

Reeve was the one idiotically honest man in a position of power at the Shinra Electric Power Company. So what happened when he discovered that the company was no longer paying attention to how he chose to spend his money?

As of today the answer seemed to be “he builds a robot cat” (and gigantic robot moogle for the cat to ride, but you couldn’t have the moogle without the cat; that would just be silly) but Reno was sure that Reeve could push his skills at scamming an organization he obviously hated from the bottom of his heart far further. He had high hopes that one day Reeve would be committing feats of financial malfeasance that even Reno himself could never have conceived of!

This, this was just phase one of the process, and it wasn’t like robotic cats grew on trees. It made Reno’s eyes fill with tears to think that his protege was coming along so quickly!

XXX XXX XXX

“Good morning, Tifa!” Jessie Rasberry chirped as she breezed into Seventh Heaven.

The only other female member of Avalanche took a look around the bar and promptly noticed one major change since she’d last visited.

“Tifa, who is the new waiter? Is he your friend? He is just your friend, right? Are you guys close?” Jessie chattered at Tifa, sneaking frequent glances at the silver-haired youth.

Tifa rolled her eyes, having expected more or less exactly this situation. Jessie was a genius with technology, but definitely had her quirks.

“Jessie, you looked sort of funny walking in here; do you think you might have a pebble in one of your shoes?” Tifa threw Jessie a meaningful look.

Although all of Sector Seven had good reasons to dislike Shinra, that didn’t instantly translate to all of them supporting Avalanche. It didn’t even mean that those who did support Avalanche on a theoretical level would refuse to sell them out if Shinra offered a big enough bounty.

That was why Barret had established a series of codewords that the group members could use while talking to each other in public.

“Pebble” was the codeword for “do not discuss Avalanche business, someone in this room is not a member”. Barret had plans to fully initiate Sephiroth and his brother into the group by going on a mission with Sephiroth tonight; but until they proved trustworthy he wanted to keep the two from learning anything more about his cell.

Jessie put her acting skills to good use, and only someone who knew her as well as Tifa did could have hoped to spot the glint of comprehension that briefly flickered across her face.

It just was too bad that Tifa didn’t also have a codeword to tell Kadaj “she’s a little boy crazy but a good friend, don’t break her heart or I’ll break your nose”.

“I’ll make sure to check them later. So, who is he?”

“I’m Kadaj.” The ‘he’ in question all too happily introduced himself.

“Kadaj doesn’t have anyplace else to go, so I’m going to look after him for a while.”

“Anything I can do to help you feel more at home?” Jessie eagerly offered.

Luckily, Tifa had already come up with a plan for exactly this situation. There was something Kadaj could do to help Avalanche without even realizing it, and it would keep him from being underfoot when Marlene got back from school.

Barret had been VERY clear on how he didn’t want either Sephiroth or Kadaj to meet Marlene until they’d proved their devotion to the cause.

“Jessie, weren’t you just telling me that you had the next batch of water filters ready to move, but were worried that some of our customers might try to give us the run around? Just take Kadaj with you.

Kadaj, do you think can do that thing your big brother does with his eyes that scares people?”

“I can sure try!”

Judging by his current look of wide eyed eager to please exuberance, Tifa did not expect great things from Kadaj’s career as a street tough. On the other hand, he wasn’t actually going to be shaking down people for money, only making sure that Jessie was paid what she was owed.

“Just so I know, why are these water filters important?” Kadaj added after a moment of reflection.

“People who live below the Plate need water just like everyone else, but they’ve got no way to complain if Shinra cuts corners by supplying them with stuff that is barely potable.” Jessie explained, eager to discuss her inventions.

“That’s not very nice of them.” Kadaj interjected.

It was an obvious and effortless quip to make... but he sounded oddly sincere.

“So that’s why I’ve been working on making better water filters. If Shinra won’t bother to properly filtrate the stuff they sell us, then we’ll just have to do it ourselves. My new filters can all but completely eliminate the rotten egg smell that most of the water comes with, countless different types of particulate contamination and also come with a built in cooling device. I’m actually really proud of that part, because Shinra seems to think it’s perfectly fine to have water come out the tap at around halfway to boiling.”

“Smart.” Kadaj agreed.

“All right, you two; have fun, play nice.” Tifa instructed, hoping that they were able to handle this mundane errand.

If they somehow wound up having trouble with something as simple as this, it’d bode ill for Barret’s plans to integrate Sephiroth and Kadaj fully into Avalanche; Planet knew they needed the muscle.

XXX XXX XXX

“Firion, this is Kadaj, Kadaj, this is Firion; he runs the local items store.”

Firion took one look at Jessie, then at Kadaj, and seemed to pout slightly.

“Aw, and here I’d hoped Tifa would be the one bringing me my replacement.” He chuckled to himself.

“You and every other guy in Sector Seven between the age of thirteen and dead. Sorry, you’re going to have to settle for little old me today.” Jessie chuckled right back.

“So, who exactly is Mr. Kadaj?”

“I’m in charge of collecting money for Jessie and looking after it!” Kadaj beamed.

One water filter installation later, Kadaj and Jessie exited the item shop with some additional gil in Kadaj’s pockets. This was an easy job when everyone was so friendly!

XXX XXX XXX

Ms. Marle who apparently owned a small collection of sleeping rooms was also quite nice, and so Jessie didn’t need Kadaj’s help to deal with her. No, all she had to do was live up to her end of the bargain and focus on installing the new filtration system.

That let Kadaj free to just stand around and… well stand around.

Then the knocking started.

It was very loud, almost as if somehow the knocking was coming from inside Kadaj’s head instead of simply being relayed to it by his ears.

So far as he could tell, the knocking was coming from the rightmost door on the second floor of Marle’s establishment. The longer Kadaj waited and did nothing the louder the knocking got.

He couldn’t understand why someone would keep continuously knocking on their own door, shouldn’t they just be able to open it? Whatever was going on, Kadaj refused to simply let his ears continue to be assaulted by that hideous knocking.

So he raced up to the door that the knocking was coming from and opened it.

A man collapsed at Kadaj’s feat.

He wore a black cloak that covered most of his body, but one section near his left shoulder had been torn, revealing that someone had tattooed the number 49 on said shoulder.

“Reunion...” The man whispered.

Kadaj’s head swam.

He wasn’t standing in the streets of Midgar anymore… he wasn’t standing anywhere.

He couldn’t see any part of his body, he could only see a small parade of people dressed in threadbare black cloaks, trudging their way through some sort strange sort of white fluff. Whatever was going on, it didn’t look pleasant in the slightest.

“Reunion… Reunion...” One of black figures groaned.

All of a sudden he was back in Midgar.

Kadaj still had no idea what the man was talking about. Kadaj honestly wasn’t sure if the man himself knew what he was talking about.

Whatever was going on, there was no reason to just leave him laying around on the floor.

Kadaj gently picked up 49 and carried him back to his bed.

“Reunion.” Panted 49 once more.

Kadaj’s mind briefly drifted back to his first encounter with Sephiroth.

“You’re right… after all is said and done, everyone deserves a reunion.” Kadaj tried to reassure him.

To his amazement it worked.

49’s body seemed to relax slightly when previously he’d been a strange mix of both incredibly tense and yet at the same time entirely limp.

“Re-un-ion...” Kadaj could still hear the words being whispered behind him as he closed the door and left 49 alone to sleep off whatever illness he was in the grips of.

XXX XXX XXX

As opposed to Firion and Marle, Leon; who ran the weapon shop, did not seem to be quite so nice.

“Hey, that last filter you sold me didn’t do shit!” Leon shouted at Jessie.

In fact, though Kadaj hated to think the worst of people; he was starting to consider the possibility that Leon was rather mean.

“What? You really mean that? Look I promise my new version also comes with a built in olfactometer so that you can see what kind of a job it is doing!” Jessie protested.

“Save your excuses and get out.”

Jessie sighed heavily and shook her head.

“If you don’t want to buy a new one, that’s your choice. That said, Tifa told me that you bought your last filtration device from us on credit. Since your store seems to be doing pretty good business, I’d like you to pay Kadaj the money you owe us.” Jessie insisted, planting her hands on her hips.

“You think I’ve got something to fear from a punk ass bitch like him? I bet there’s not even a real sword in that sheath.” Leon scoffed.

Kadaj had just been standing there his hands at his at sides, waiting for Jessie to sort out matters of payment, but now he seemed to be directly involved in the conversation.

“Souba is a real sword.” Kadaj insisted, as he drew the blade in question.

All of a sudden the weapon shop became much quieter.

“Do you see this?” Kadaj asked, using his right hand to point to the gap between Souba’s blades.

“Yes, I see it!” Leon whimpered, sweat trickling down his brow.

“Kadaj, I don’t think he’s seeing what you think he’s seeing...” Jessie suggested in a strangled voice.

Kadaj tilted his head to the side, wondering what was going on that he wasn’t smart enough to figure out. Then he carefully tilted his weapon to the side so that Jessie could take a good look at Souba.

“He said that Souba wasn’t a real sword; so I wanted to show him its materia slots.” Kadaj explained awkwardly, adjusting his grip so that Jessie would be able to see them clearly.

Kadaj noticed that Jessie was squinting, but he wasn’t surprised, lots of people had trouble seeing things that he could.

“Are those six empty materia slots, all linked?”

“Yeah, that’s what the doctors told me. They never actually gave me any materia, though...” Kadaj admitted.

“This is soooo much more important than a two hundred gil tab. Biggs need to see this, now!” Jessie grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the room.

Kadaj didn’t see why it couldn’t wait until after he’d convinced Leon to pay Jessie the money he owed her, but since it was Jessie’s money he supposed she should get to make that particular call.

XXX XXX XXX

As it turned out Jessie’s friend Biggs was actually hanging out in a room on the weapon shop’s second floor. He was also accompanied by another man who Jessie introduced as Wedge.

Both Biggs and Wedge wore red headbands, which was probably part of the official uniform of the neighborhood watch they belonged to.

She’d also said something about how she hoped to “get the pebble rolling” by introducing Kadaj to the other two, which was struck Kadaj as a weird turn of phrase, but then every phrase was sorta weird the first time you heard it...

“I’m telling you, his sword has six linked materia slots!” Jessie insisted.

Once again, Kadaj didn’t see what the big fuss was; it wasn’t like he had six materia, let alone six materia in pairs that needed to be linked in order to be fully effective.

“Six slots? Linked? I’ve heard that four with only two of them linked is the standard weapon for third class SOLDIERs. Hell, the only other weapon I’ve heard of that supposedly has six linked slots is Masamune!” Biggs gasped.

“Masamune does have six slots; I know my brother’s sword.” Kadaj wasn’t going to let anyone’s insult his brother, even if only by implying he lied about what his weapon was capable of.

“Wait, say that again…?” Wedge suddenly protested.

“Masamune does have six slots; I know my brother’s sword?” Kadaj repeated his words hesitantly, in case there had been something wrong with how he’d said it the first time.

“Okay, we’re gonna break this down real slow. Can we start with letting me actually see your sword?” Biggs pleaded.

Kadaj just stood there for a few moments, the fingers of his left hands twitching uncertainly.

“I’m not supposed to give it to anyone. Well not anyone other than the doctors….” Kadaj admitted as he carefully thought the matter through.

“Just think of me as a sword doctor, I make weapons better.”

Kadaj considered that for a moment, then drew Souba and handed it over, but he made sure not to look away or blink. Souba was important to him, especially now that he was out of the lab; there wouldn’t be anyone to just hand him a new sword if he lost his current one.

Biggs began to inspect the sword more closely, especially the gap between its blades.

“It’s like he said, six materia slots in three linked sets. Sephiroth’s Masamune or Genesis’ Rapier, that’s the class of weapon we’re talking about... Wherever the hell you got this thing; I’m amazed there aren’t a squad of Turks bursting in through the windows to take it back.” Biggs murmured.

“Can we please go back to the part where we were talking about Masamune, General Sephiroth’s sword, and you mentioned your brother? Because that sure makes it sound like...” Wedge interrupted.

“General Sephiroth is my older brother. I’m gonna be a hero just like him!” Kadaj interrupted Wedge’s interruption, happy to clear up the matter now that he actually understood where the confusion lay.

There was a very long protracted silence, making Kadaj wonder if he’d done something wrong again, like when he’d tried to show his materia slots to Leon.

“Sure… lets go with that. Kadaj, the neighborhood watch group could really use someone with a sword like this. I mean you know how to use it right?” Biggs offered.

“I’ve spent a lot of time training with it.” Kadaj reassured him.

At least it certainly qualified as a lot of time if you measured it as a percentage of exactly how long Kadaj had been alive.

“Well then Jessie, why don’t you take our new hero and go on a patrol through Scrap Boulevard with him? We’ve been getting reports about lots of monster activity there recently, but we’ve been too busy with… other things to properly investigate them.” Biggs suggested.

That sounded like a great idea!

"Slaying monsters is one of my favorite parts of being a hero!”

Granted, his last “monster hunt” had concluded with exactly zero monsters killed, but he had found Sephiroth, so clearly he must have been doing something right! If he ended up failing to kill any monsters but finding another missing family member, well he’d consider that a successful mission any day of the week!

End Chapter

AN: First off, yes I am cheating with this chapter’s song lyric. I would normally avoid paraphrasing or in any way altering my chapter title song lyrics, but if you know the original song lyric for this chapter you can probably understand why I altered it.

Toccata and Fugue in D minor is piece by Johann Sebastian Bach, you might recognize its opening bars from like every ominous pipe organ you’ve ever heard played in a horror movie, Phantom of the Opera to pick one example (not) at random.

I am aware that in Advent Children Souba/Kadaj’s swords is depicted as having no materia slots in it, hence why he needs to insert a materia directly into his arm… however the heck that is supposed to work. That said, in Advent Children, Kadaj and his siblings weapons came from…. ????? Oh yeah, Advent Children never established where any of Kadaj, Loz or Yazoo’s weapons came from.

In this AU where Souba was made by Shinra and given to Kadaj expressly for the purpose of molding him to be Sephiroth-2.0, of course it is going to have the best materia slot configuration they can manage.

Also, in the remake materia are presented as being around the size of a baseball, they more or less completely fills the hand of a person holding one. This is all fine and reasonable when you’re dealing with weapons like the Buster Sword or Masamune, but how could any of Tifa’s gloves possibly have room for multiple materia?

So in the interest of creating a version of reality that hangs together a little better, I’m going to say that in this story your average materia is actually only the size of a D20, that is why there are room for six of them to be slotted in between Souba’s two blades.

Anyway, this chapter marks the end of what has effectively been our “prologue”, you can probably guess what Sephiroth and Barret will be doing together next chapter.

Chapter 6: You got a job to do, you better to do it right, and the right way, is with the left brain’s might!

“You know, you could have stopped all of this.” Barret’s rough grumble cut through the silence of the empty car.

“Security...?” Sephiroth let the query dangle with a questioning look; this didn’t seem like a good conversation to have on Shinra territory, however alone they might seem to be.

“There’s a reason I waited until we got topside to have this talk. That rust-bucket we road up from Sector Seven had more bugs than a swamp, but these ‘Shinra Deluxe’ models aren’t nearly as heavily monitored.”

Sephiroth had not enjoyed his train ride out of Sector Seven, it’d involved standing shoulder to shoulder in a crowded compartment while crouching lest he bang his head on the roof. Once they’d actually gotten above the Plate he and Barret had switched to a more upscale form of public transportation. Now, not only was Sephiroth able to sit down, but the two actually had the entire compartment to themselves.

“So as I was saying, seven years ago, you could have stopped all this. Back when everyone turned out to celebrate Shinra’s wonderkid, General Sephiroth. The ‘man’ who could humble Godo Kisaragi, but was still too young to drink a beer. The celebration was so big that they even had the parade go through Lower Midgar.

There you were, an entire army that followed your orders, an entire city that loved you. Right then, you could have crushed Shinra in a way Wutai never dreamed of.”

“You’re right. I could have. I didn’t. Were you there to see it yourself?”

“I hadn’t moved to Midgar yet, but Shinra broadcast it far and wide. Besides, they love to replay it every February 20^th to celebrate, like clockwork.”

Sephiroth sighed heavily and looked out a train window, not that the city of Midgar made for especially pleasant scenery to watch.

“They’re still celebrating my victory parade five years after I ‘died’? Just proves Shinra never really considered it ‘my’ victory.”

“Care to explain why you didn’t? Because you missed your one chance for a glorious revolution; ever since then, the rest of us have had to do the job that you wouldn’t.”

Sephiroth took his eyes off of the unending sea of gunmetal gray that was flickering by outside to focus on the dark glasses in front of him.

“Because when I first signed up, I thought I could make the Planet a better place by ending the war. I didn’t fight for Shinra; I fought for Midgar. So that every orphan in the city didn’t end up seeing the sun for the first time with one gun in their hands and three pointed at their back in case they tried to run.

I wanted to create peace for Midgar. I believed that it would be possible for this city to know true peace with Shinra in charge. Surely you’ve made at least one mistake in your life, Mr. Wallace?” Sephiroth answered icily.

For just a brief moment Sephiroth watched emotions chase each other across the other man’s face, before the bluff mask settled back into place with a grunt; it seemed he’d struck a nerve.

Before Barret got a chance to respond Sephiroth heard the sound of sliding metal. Looking in its direction he discovered that the door to their compartment was being opened.

A well dressed man in a black business suit and red tie entered the compartment. Both Sephiroth and Barret gazed at the new comer. He in turn looked at the tall man with silver hair and a sword, then the even taller man who had a gun for an arm.

Still not uttering a single sound, the man took a step back and closed the compartment door behind him, evidently deciding he’d find somewhere else to spend his commute.

“I bet Midgar looked mighty peaceful when you were looking down on it from Shinra HQ. Under the Plate though...” Barret eventually resumed the conversation.

“Under the Plate every day is a war for survival.” Sephiroth interrupted him.

Barret’s entire body seemed to tense up for a moment, until he broke the tension with a sudden laugh.

“Well look at that! Who’da thought that Shinra’s prize silver guard dog would actually have some city grunge on him? So tell me, did you actually like getting dirty, or were you doing it just to spite the bastards given how much they loved to fancy you up?” He shook his head with a grin that seemed completely genuine.

“So what exactly is this ‘mission’ you wanted my help with?”

Barret had been extremely cagey back in Seventh Heaven, only telling Sephiroth that it was a mission which he would normally have wanted five people for. ‘But if you’re all you’re cracked up to be,’ he’d said, ‘then just the two of us ought to cut it.’

He took a moment to look out his own window; in addition to the multiple magazines he had already attached to his weapon, there were several more strewn about his person, just to make absolutely sure he couldn’t possibly run out of ammunition.

Sephiroth marveled at the sheer absurdity of Shinra letting a man who looked like he had access to more ammunition than the average quartermaster use public transportation. Then again, those same guards also hadn’t batted an eye at him and Masamune… perhaps the issue was less one of policy than of enforcement.

“I may never have led an army, but I’ve learned a thing or two about successful insurgency. Rule number one: compartmentalization; everyone knows enough to do their job, and as little more as possible. We aren’t at our stop yet, so you’ll have to wait.”

Sephiroth’s fingers stroked the white card in his pocket; the fake ID, made by someone in Barret’s cell, was the only equipment Avalanche had furnished him with for this mission.

Barret had also made it clear that the card was only good for a one-way trip. If the mission succeeded, he would get back in touch with his mysterious accomplice; only then would Sephiroth be able to return to Sector Seven.

That wasn’t much of a threat to Sephiroth; he could navigate the steel jungle of Midgar without ever setting foot on its streets. All the same, he actually approved of Barret’s operational paranoia: if you were going to try and fight an organization as large as Shinra, even if it was also one as lazy as Shinra, then you needed to do everything you could to eliminate risks.

While it might be mildly irritating to be kept in the dark at the moment, it was easily counterbalanced by his relief at having competent allies.

“You don’t trust me enough to tell me where we’re going, or what we’ll do once we get there. You can’t pass up the resource I represent, but you’re not prepared to put any of your people’s lives in my hands. The question remains: why are we here at all?

Barret just smiled and thumped his remaining hand against his chest.

“Being a leader means that you’re the first one into battle and the last one out of it. If you’re playing us straight, you could be a gamechanger, not gonna pretend otherwise. So… here I am. Can’t sleep on the opportunity, but it’s my call, so I shoulder the risk.”

To his surprise Sephiroth could feel a slight smile tugging at his lips. He and Barret might not agree on much, but it seemed they both viewed leadership as coming with the exact same responsibilities.

Basking in the discovery of that shared belief, the two of them were able to sit there in silence as the train rolled down the tracks.

Like all good things though, eventually the silence had to come to an end.

“Okay, we’re gonna be getting out at the next stop. Our target is the Sector One Mako Reactor, and we’re gonna turn its mako pump into a pile of slag.” Barret finally explained.

“Understood. Resistance?” Now that Barret was being forthcoming, Sephiroth found it surprisingly easy to slip back into a briefing cadence: say little, hear much, remember everything.

“Shinra’s gonna be serving up something special for your reunion tour, Silver. See, since Tifa is convinced you’re the real deal, I figured that we might as well take advantage of it; I had Avalanche broadcast an announcement to the entire city that we were going to knock out a mako reactor tonight. Granted, I didn’t go so far as to say which one....” Barret’s teeth flashed in a feral grin.

That didn’t fit. Asymmetrical warfare relied on misdirection and exploitation. You didn’t forewarn a superior opponent. Unless…

“Hm. Show of force?”

Barret leaned back, his grin growing wider.

“Word is, Wutai once established artillery batteries, peeled these guns off the rest of their line, for the sole purpose of firing them at you. Not because as Shinra’s most famous general you’d always be someplace important, but because they figured it’d be their best chance to actually kill you. Now, maybe that’s just more Shinra propaganda….”

Sephiroth shook his head.

“All true. It was hell on my administrative staff. Eventually had to hike solo through the mountains for a week, give them something to shoot at while my second infiltrated to silence the guns.”

“And you didn’t go yourself because?”

“Infiltration mission. All of Wutai knows to shoot when they see green.”

Barret gave a grim chuckle.

“So, like I was saying, you’re not an easy man to kill. With Shinra having to spread its reinforcements out between eight different reactors, we should still be able to get the job done fairly easily. Especially since this is gonna be our first operation above the Plate.”

Sephiroth could see the wisdom to it. If this Avalanche cell had never taken the fight to Upper Midgar before, it was possible that Shinra wouldn’t even bother to reinforce their reactors. Unlikely, but possible.

“Just the pump?”

Even though Barret’s sunglasses were too dark for Sephiroth to see through, he got the distinct impression that Barret was rolling his eyes at him.

“Explosives don’t just come raining out of the sky for us, and the reactor ain’t exactly small. Besides, there’s no way we could take out an entire reactor without doing major collateral damage to the rest of Sector One. On top of that, the sudden loss of power could lead to all sorts of bad shit, like if a hospital hasn’t been keeping their backup generator up to snuff…

Nah, we take out just the mako pump, and the reactor grinds to a halt all the same, but over the course of a few hours once it runs out of mako to process. Then Shinra will be left with nothing but a big impotent hunk a junk sitting around.

That’s just stage one of course. You see, everyone in Midgar knows that Shinra sucks, but they’re too afraid to do anything about it. Avalanche is gonna teach ‘em how to be fearless; by taking away the one thing Shinra has to offer people, stability. When the lights go out in Midgar, it’ll be lights out for the Shinra Electric Power Company as well.”

As strategies went it wasn’t half bad. Shinra was simply too vast to imagine it being toppled by a handful of malcontents, but if the entire city of Midgar, or even just a significant portion of it, rose up in open revolt, then the rebels might have a chance.

“Avalanche has come a long way from where it was five years ago. I found their previous methods of ‘protecting the planet’… excessive.” Sephiroth admitted.

Avalanche’s first iteration had tried to fire the Mako Cannon at Midgar, Sephiroth had stopped them. There weren’t many things he’d done in the service of Shinra he was proud of… in fact, that was probably the only one.

“Fuhito may have been a genius for helping to discover the Lifestream Theory, but he had one track mind. So long as I’m in charge, Avalanche is about protecting humanity, not ending it. Things gotta change if we’re gonna have a Planet to live on, but what’s the point in saving the world if there’s no one around to enjoy it?

As for coming a long way in five years, it’s surprising what a man can accomplish when he’s actually doing things rather than just hiding his head in the sand.”

XXX XXX XXX

As the train pulled into the station, Barret quickly ran through what remained of his mission briefing.

“There’s one last thing we need to go over: if Shinra hasn't beefed up security at this station then, standard procedure calls for there to be two guards who will check everyone's paperwork before any passengers can get near the reactor.

Our tech wizard got us forged rail passes, but that’s the end of the line when it comes to their help. We’ll need to deal with those guards ourselves.”

Barret turned his attention back to his right “hand” doing one last round of checks to make sure it was in perfect working order.

“Now, this baby has more firepower than they can handle, but she also makes a fair amount of noise. So why don't you take that oversized kitchen knife of yours and...”

He trailed off when he realized that he was alone in the train car.

“Guy with a sword that big has no right being that damn quiet.” Barret huffed to himself in annoyance.

XXX XXX XXX

Another day, another hundred gil, that was what this job amounted to for Craig and his fellow Shinra troopers. Luckily, said day was almost over; this was the last train of the evening to reach the Sector One Mako Reactor before his shift ended.

“You take the front, Daniel; I’ll take the back. Meet you in the middle.” Craig suggested, reiterating their standard sweep procedure for the who knew how many-th time.

This looked like it should be a fairly quick sweep since it didn’t seem like anyone was actually formally disembarking from the train; all they had to do was make sure nobody was trying to sneak off.

The two parted ways, but before Craig could even make his way to the train’s rear he heard a wordless scream of fright that terminated with shocking abruptness.

“Dan? What was that? You alright?” Craig called out as he braced his gun against his shoulder and began to slowly creep back towards the train’s engine.

“I'm afraid not.” Answered a voice that froze the blood in his veins.

Craig spun on his heel and stared, aghast, at the ghost standing by the far end of the car.

“Ohhh shittttt!” Craig moaned as he thumbed his assault rifle to full auto and didn’t so much “pull” as “yank” the trigger.

The sad thing was it didn’t even make a difference.

The silver haired man didn’t walk, didn’t run, he just... wasn't there anymore.

One moment he was over twenty feet away, the next Craig’s rifle had been neatly cut in half; he might as well have been shooting blanks.

He jerked back, dropping the gun, only to be stopped short by a hand at the back of his neck. He bounced off the side of the car, black boots just discernible at the edge of his swimming vision.

"The buddy system isn't there to get sweeps done faster," a rich baritone voice chided.

Craig felt cold, lethargic.

"It's there to get them done safely." There was a flash of light, and then Craig felt nothing at all.

XXX XXX XXX

“You planning on turning every Shinra shithead we come across into a popsicle?” Barret demanded as he disembarked from the train.

“Dead bodies draw attention.”

“So will your Goon Gelato.”

Sephiroth sighed and began to drag the two guards on board the train before shoving them into overhead luggage racks.

“Hibernating bodies are easier to hide; no stink of death.” He countered, closing the luggage rack compartments to keep the guards out of sight.

Confident the two wouldn’t thaw out and start sounding the alarm for at lest a few hours, Sephiroth departed from the train a second time.

“What’s the matter Silver, still afraid to bite the hand that feeds you?”

Despite all the extensive modifications that his body had gone through, Sephiroth’s teeth looked completely normal. That just meant he had to try harder to convey the aura of a snarling predator when he turned to face Barret.

“After what Shinra has done to me, I won’t just bite their hand; I’ll tear out their throat. That doesn’t mean I like stepping on ants."

Sephiroth turned his attention to the Sector One Mako Reactor; the huge structure utterly dominated the skyline, out by the edge of the plate. Sephiroth had never really stopped to think about just how massive the reactors were. Even for him, this might prove a bit of a challenge…

He dismissed the concern with slight shake of his head; it wasn’t as if the reactor itself was going to come to life and attack him. Shinra had wanted to project an aura of omnipotent invincibility, so they'd built the reactors big and baroque. He’d enjoy shattering that aura tonight.

The two of them took off running and didn’t stop until they reached the reactor’s main entrance.

“My tech wizard was able to find some old reactor blueprints, but if you’ve got a better idea of what is waiting for us behind those doors, I’m all ears...” Barret groaned when he caught up.

“I can count on one hand the number of times I've been in a Midgar reactor. Floor plan is unlikely to have changed much, but as far as security, anything I know is five years out of date."

“Anything useful you can do?”

Sephiroth pressed a hand to the door.

Tendrils of white frost spread out from his hand tracing a spiderweb pattern across the door. Then each individual vein began to grow larger and thicker, until they eventually met each other, leaving the door completely covered in ice.

At that point Sephiroth took few steps back, knowing that he’d want some momentum..

He got a running start and jumped through the door, shattering it into countless frozen pieces.

As he breached the door, he noted the positions of the lasers defense turrets flanking it. As he slid to a stop between them, Masamune flicked out twice, almost perfunctorily. As the business ends of the ruined turrets dropped to the floor, he arched one eyebrow at his new collaborator.

"I can make an entrance."

XXX XXX XXX

Things went surprisingly smoothly after that.

Guard hounds pumped full of steroids were put down, a laser defense security system was overloaded with magical lighting, more defense cannons positioned out of sword reach were suppressed by Barret’s gun arm, and a sweeper combat robot was reduced to its component parts.

All told, elapsed time from breach to objective was just under ten minutes.

“All right Silver, lets see just how sharp those teeth are...” As he spoke, Barret reached into his jacket and pulled out a bundle of wires and munitions about the size of his fist.

A single eyebrow rose ever so slightly upwards in surprise.

“That’s an interesting psychological two-fer. On one hand, you’re welcoming me into the organization by showing me some modicum of trust; I could throw this bomb into the Lifestream and you’d have no chance of stopping me. At the same time, you’re also forcing me into the sunk cost fallacy; once I’ve done something like this I’ll never be accepted anywhere but Avalanche. It reminds me of how the Turks always have their new members kill someone during their first day in uniform.”

“Less blabbing more booming. You do know how to set a bomb right?” Barret insisted, evidently not in the mood to discuss psychology.

“Mr. Wallace, you don't spend nearly ten years as a general without learning a few things about C4.” Sephiroth promised, taking the device.

As he’d suspected; Avalanche’s bomb was utilitarian in design: currently blank display panel, a white switch, an obvious green button and an even more obvious red button.

He slid it gently into place against the main mako pump, and pressed the green button, making the display panel light up with a flashing “20:00”.

Just before he could press the red button, the entire room suddenly shook.

“I knew this was too easy.” Sephiroth sighed.

A large chunk of the reactor’s walls burst inward as a nearly twenty foot tall dark red machine charged through it. It scuttled forward on six legs, bringing the ordnance on its twin arms to bear as its tail lashed behind it

“Welcome to Avalanche Sephiroth, now how about you show new found environmental spirit by helping me recycle this hunk of junk?”

Sephiroth took a moment to size up the scorpion shaped mechanical monster, this was a foe of an entirely different caliber to anything else he’d faced tonight.

“Keep your distance, I’ll distract it.” He promised, and once more Masamune slid free from its sheath.

As if in response, the robot’s mechanical arms came alive, bracketing Sephiroth's body with dozens of targeting lasers. Shinra had doubtlessly developed some new weapon systems in the last five years, so all he could be truly sure of was that this didn’t bode well.

A moment later vents opened up along the top of the robot and roughly two dozen fist sized rockets shot up into the air before arching around in order to head straight for him.

Sephiroth shifted Masamune into a one handed grip, leaving his right hand free to call up a screen of small fireballs.

Each orb detonated as a rocket streaked past it, consuming the sentinel's opening solvo in a cascade of magical flame.

Undeterred, the robot leveled its arms at Sephiroth and let loose with a torrent of high caliber rounds.

No matter how large they were or how quickly they moved, bullets all had the exact same weakness; once they left the barrel, they traveled in a straight line.

Sephiroth didn't have to be faster than a bullet; it was enough to be faster than the articulated arms of a war droid. Moving in sharp, jerky bursts to confound its predictive software, and occasionally twisting his body out of line with the guns, he advanced upon the machine.

All the while there was a series of high pitched “crack” and “plink” noises as Barret unloaded a steady stream of bullets into the robot.

Sephiroth jumped into the air, counting on gravity lend further force to his attack. Right before he had the chance to strike, a glowing blue forcefield suddenly sprung to life around the scorpion..

PTANG!

The field didn’t just stop Sephiroth’s attack dead, it transferred all its momentum back into the silver haired man, sending him flying in the opposite direction.

“That’s new...” He admitted once his feet finally touched the ground.

Even after landing, he was still carrying so much momentum that he ended up sliding across the floor, only avoiding a second trip into the Lifestream thanks to the reactor’s safety railings.

The scorpion scuttled closer, clearly intent on finishing him off, paying no attention at all to Barret’s bullet barrage.

Then it halted, the barrier field flaring and vanishing as electricity arced across its body. Another surge brought its charge to a shuddering halt.

“Shinra loves their windup soldiers; you didn’t think I came unprepared did you?” He could hear Barret calling out to him.

Sephiroth didn’t bother to reply, he had work to do.

The scorpion’s defensive systems momentarily disabled, he rushed forward.

Masamune lashed out a second time, and without the shimmering field to protect it, he severed one of the scorpion’s arm cannons.

The machine, having apparently determined that its position had become untenable, launched itself towards one of the reactor walls, where it hunkered down to unload another barrage of rockets.

“Thing doesn’t know when to quit...” Barret muttered as he rapidly swapped magazines again, his load-out no longer seeming quite so excessive.

"It is a machine. Discretion is not in their nature." Sephiroth pointed out, as he hurled more fireballs in order to destroy the rockets that the scorpion robot was launching at them from its current vantage point.

Strangely, rather than aiming for Barret or Sephiroth some of those rockets simply shot straight upwards, blowing apart chunks of the ceiling. It was hard to tell if that was the result of battle damage disabling some of its targeting systems, or if it was actively trying to collapse the entire reactor on its foes.

When it jumped back down, it landed directly in front of the reactor, and raised its tail up over its head, a thrumming blue light starting to gather at the tip.

Barret seemed to view this as a fine time to take cover behind some of the recently fallen debris, but Sephiroth had other ideas.

Shinra created all manner of mechanical minions for the purposes of killing its foes.

Despite that, despite the fact that Wutai had no capacity to construct anything similar, robots hadn’t won the Wutain War for Shinra, SOLDIERs had.

No matter how thick the armor, no matter how heavy the weapons; all machines ended up sharing the exact same weakness...

Sephiroth sheathed Masamune and ran at the scorpion, weaving back and froth rapidly.

The scorpion’s tail shifted with each of his movements as it continued to build up power for its attack.

Sephiroth jumped into the air and the tail extended still further in order to make sure it he remained firmly in its sights.

Sephiroth landed on top of the robotic scorpion.

He saw the blue energy turn bright white, and a beam of pure concentrated power started to emerge from the tail.

He kicked off of the guard scorpion, moving as fast as he could.

The scorpion’s tail laser connected, aimed at exactly where Sephiroth had been a few moments ago….

Because that was the problem with machines, they didn’t have a sense of self preservation.

The guard scorpion’s most powerful weapon made a mockery of its own armor and fried its internal circuity to a crisp.

It collapsed in a shower of sparks and Sephiroth landed beside it a moment later.

“Ready?”

After getting a nod in response he made his way over to the bomb and finally hit the red button.

“19:59.”

“19:58.”

“19.57.”

“Time to leave.”

XXX XXX XXX

It was nice to actually have a mission go exactly as planned for once; it had been a long time since Sephiroth had gotten that lucky, even disregarding the five years he hadn’t been doing missions for.

A quick dash back to the elevator, a few moments to scare the wits out of the administrative personnel to get them running for their lives, and then he and Barret Wallace had done likewise.

They’d gotten out of the Sector One Mako Reactor with five minutes to spare before the bomb went off and as he counted down the final seconds to detonation Sephiroth also took a brief moment to review the mission results.

Primary Objective, destruction of mission critical Shinra assets: total.

Secondary Objective, destruction of Shinra defensive assets: significant.

Actual loss of human life: none.

He didn’t see how the mission could possibly have gone better.

Then the reactor exploded. The entire reactor.

Pieces of the reactor were torn free from its superstructure and hurled into the previously peaceful night, gigantic chunks of flaming death descending on people who’d never imagine such a thing to be possibly only a few moments ago.

Small bits of fiery rubble blanketed the city’s streets like hailstones from hell. Even Sephiroth’s eyes couldn’t see well enough to track it all, but his mind quickly extrapolated figures to fill the gaps.

Actual loss of human life: >10.

Actual loss of human life: >100.

Actual loss of human life: >1000?

“What. Did. You. DO?” Sephiroth gasped, the words accompanied by a faint puff of mist despite the heat of the burning wreckage.

He’d spent more than enough time working for monsters before he’d gone into the Lifestream; he was done making that mistake.

Rather than shrinking from his gaze, Barret drew himself up to his full height and removed his black sunglasses. The first thing Sephiroth noticed upon finally looking the man in the eyes was the faint but unmistakable mako glow. The second was that the skin around them was taut with anguish.

“Jessie double and triple checked that bomb, stayed up all night goin' back over her work, to be damned sure that...” He paused and waved his hand at the scene of destruction unfolding before them.

“Something like this wouldn’t happen! Do you think this is what I wanted?” Barret insisted, and Sephiroth noticed faint touches of moisture building up around the other man’s eyes.

“Do you think that I could have even made it happen if I did?” He added, before once again sliding his sunglasses back into place.

Sephiroth didn’t allow his anger to dissipate, but he did allow it to be channeled and redirected. He threw his mind desperately into another round of calculations.

Given the size of the bomb that Barret had given him, and presuming that he hadn't been planting secondary explosives without Sephiroth noticing, there was no way their efforts could have caused this level of destruction. It was entirely possible that demolitions tech had advanced in his absence, but not to this degree.

When his calculations didn’t make sense, it was because there was some factor he wasn’t aware of inserting itself into the equation. So what factor was Sephiroth missing?

“That pain… that pain in your eyes. I wouldn't have wished it on you, but I’m glad I see it right now. Cause if you didn’t feel it, if I didn’t feel it, then we'd just be fooling ourselves, thinking we’re any better than Shinra.” Barret’s voice grew louder, projected further, but his inflection was warm, almost gentle.

He was trying to help.

Sephiroth could appreciate that, but he’d never especially been one for words, he’d always preferred actions.

“Get to the train Mr. Wallace, I’ll meet up with you before it leaves the sector.” Sephiroth promised.

“Oh? And what'll you be doing?”

Sephiroth took a deep breath; some people might get a chance to rest after defeating a gigantic mechanical scorpion. Him? He'd rested enough…

“Silver has to go for a walk.”

XXX XXX XXX

“We'll get through this darling… we’ll just…. just...” Tiffany Johnson squeezed her husband Peter's hand in a death grip. The two of them had wound up trapped together inside a their car when it’d been struck by a piece of falling debris, crumpling the roof and crumpling the car. She could feel the weight of that rubble pressing down on her, slowly squeezing the life out of her.

“Can... can you get out?” Peter asked hopelessly

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her. Neither of them could get out; the weight was too immense for either of them to move. With every passing moment, they could both feel the rubble squeezing the air from their lungs and the slowly encroaching fire cooking them alive.

Which would kill them first?

Tiffany didn’t want to find out the answer. At a time like this, she almost wished mako was as volatile as the forms of fuel that had come before it, that she and her husband could simply exit the world in one all consuming blast of flame. For the moment all she could do was look Peter in the eyes, because no matter how much it hurt to see him gazing forlornly at her; it would hurt even more to look away.

And suddenly… there was a wind.

No. Not a wind.

A blur of motion... tossing aside the huge chunk of debris, and tearing their car's canopy free, giving them space to breath, and to escape.

Just like that… they were safe… at least as safe as anyone else in Sector One...

For the first time since their car had been struck they were finally able to take a deep breath. With a surreal mundanity, the two unbuckled their seat belts.

Then they climbed out of the wreckage of their vehicle and began to hobble away from it, both relying on the other to help keep themselves upright.

The black and silver blur they’d never even had time to notice kept moving.

XXX XXX XXX

The black and silver blur streaked through the sector.

Here was a family cowering in the burning wreckage of their house; surrounded on all sides by flames, waiting for the inevitable end, only to suddenly find each and every single fire extinguished.

Over there a chunk of rubble loomed unsteadily; ready to break free and crush those beneath it at any moment, only to suddenly be frozen in place by a massive icy shell.

Elsewhere a bridge overpass began to collapse and the people who’d been standing underneath found themselves abruptly on the other side of the street, moved to safety just in time.

In the wake of unexpected tragedy people cried out desperately for salvation, and to many of them, it was delivered.

XXX XXX XXX

It was quiet in the streets of Sector One again. At least, as quiet as it was going to get. There was no crackling of flames anymore, nor could he hear the sound of anyone screaming for help.

By Sephiroth’s calculations, he had roughly five minutes left until the train for Sector Seven left Sector One; he was going to make each and every second of them count. The collateral damage for this mission was already way out of hand; he wasn't about to let it get any worse.

Before that time ran out, he needed to make sure that he hadn’t been so busy dealing with all the obvious minor disasters that he’d missed major ones still in the process of unfolding.

“Are you okay?” A gentle voice asked.

Sephiroth paused, taken aback; what kind of person could possibly be worried about other people at a time like this? Still, he was the only one standing in the middle of the street; that voice must have been directed at him.

He turned to face the young woman, assessing her at a glance. No visible injuries. Honey-brown hair, long. Green eyes, non-luminous. A preponderance of pink. A basket of flowers. Hideous boots. Neither a threat nor in need of aid.

“Hey… are you okay?” She repeated her question once Sephiroth had actually made eye contact with her.

“I’m fine.”

He could have simply taken off running again, but didn’t want to distress this innocent woman by moving so fast he all but vanished in the blink of an eye. Instead, he settled for what most humans would consider a brisk jog.

A brisk jog that she managed to catch up with; positioning herself in front of him and thrusting a yellow flower in his face.

“Here, this is for you.” She smiled brightly, her eyes wide and imploring.

Sephiroth sighed, reached down and yanked the pockets of his outfit inside out, revealing that they were completely empty. Barret had insisted that he wouldn’t need money during this mission, so he’d left everything from the vending machine back with Kadaj.

“I’m sorry, in all this chaos I lost my wallet. I don’t have a single gil on me”

Even in the face of a perfectly good excuse the woman proved indefatigable.

“I came up here to sell these, to try and brighten people’s days. That look on your face… you need one so badly that it would feel wrong to charge you.” She insisted.

At first Sephiroth was so busy trying to come up with another excuse he didn’t bother to fully consider what she’d said. When he finally parsed her words, one of them stood out like a wolf among chocobos.

“Did you say that you came up here?” Sephiroth put particular emphasis on the word to make sure she couldn’t misunderstand him.

“I live in and grow my flowers in Sector Five.” She explained, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Nothing would top the Sector One Mako Reactor exploding, but on any other night that would have easily been the biggest shock Sephiroth received. People should not have been able to grow flowers below the Plate; just to start with there was no sunlight and the soil was sure to be overflowing with industrial byproducts!

It was only when he stopped contemplating the impossibility of what he had been told that he realized his right hand felt different; while he’d been distracted, the woman had somehow closed his fingers around the contested flower

“Like I said, it’s on the house.” She smiled serenely.

Sephiroth wanted to push the flower back towards her, but his mutinous arm seemed to have other ideas.

He, General Sephiroth, had somehow just lost a contest of wills with a random florist.

Horrifying.

Sephiroth hoped from the bottom his heart that this woman never EVER got her hands on ANY kind of materia; the Planet might not survive having reality reshaped by someone with such willpower.

“I’m involved in dangerous things. I need to get back to them.” Sephiroth all but pleaded.

She took a moment to look him up and down: from his shining silver hair, to the long sheath on his shoulders, to his midnight black combat boots.

“I’m sure you are, I’m sure you do. Doesn’t mean you don’t need a flower.” She shot back flippantly.

Having clearly failed every possible metric of holding a normal conversation; Sephiroth decided he had nothing left to lose.

He ran away from the strange young woman so fast that her dress flapped and ruffled in his wake.

XXX XXX XXX

“Hold it right there!” One of the Shinra lackeys demanded.

There were a dozen men surrounding Sephiroth, all bearing the full masks, armored bodysuits, and clawed gauntlets of shock troopers. They weren’t a match for SOLDIERs, but this many of them, especially with the riflemen pouring in from surrounding streets as backup, would force a bloodbath if he fought his way free.

He backed his heel up to the thirty foot drop behind him and flashed a ghost of a mocking smile as the distant rumble got progressively louder.

“Sorry, I have a train to catch.”

As the roar of the oncoming train reached a crescendo, he vaulted the safety railing, then grabbed hold of the speeding train to arrest his fall. Metal screeched and protested, crumpling under his grip. As the force of the train's movement dragged him backward, he kicked out, shattering the nearest window as he launched through it... to land comfortably in a seat opposite Barret.

“Did I miss anything important?”

“How the hell did you do that?”

“I’m General Sephiroth.”

He’d known where the train tracks were because he’d long ago memorized the layout of Midgar, he’d been able to easily hear the sounds of the train approaching, and as for landing in the same car Barret was in, to say nothing of the exact seat opposite him … well that bit was blind luck, but Sephiroth saw no reason to admit it.

End Chapter

AN: During the Winter War the Soviet Union called in artillery strikes for the sole purpose of trying to kill Simo Häyhä (a Finnish sniper), who probably didn’t have superpowers, thus the idea that Wutai would have done the same thing to Sephiroth is not at all unreasonable.

The first Generation of Avalanche trying to fire the Mako Cannon at Midgar can be seen in chapters 2 and 3 of “Before Crisis” the FF7 cell phone game (which exists only as a theoretical product at this point in time due to various technology changes, so you should probably just find a video of someone else playing it.). Sephiroth is never directly shown stopping the cannon from firing, but when the player character tries to get to the control room and shut it down, they abruptly discover a hallway filled with dead Avalanche members. They describe the scene as “Such destruction. It’s like a hurricane passed through.” and report to Tseng that "Whoever did it must be unbelievably strong.”

When you actually reach the control room, you discover that the Mako Cannon has already been disabled. Finally, Sephiroth himself shows up to save the player character from an Avalanche agent about five minutes later. In short, yeah it was totally Sephiroth, I can’t think of any other reasonable way to read that scene.

Oh and if you spotted my little in joke congratulations, since the game saw fit to use “Biggs” and “Wedge” as the name for Avalanche members (well really they’re a running reference throughout all of Final Fantasy), any random Shinra mook who winds up needing to be given a name will get one based on an actor who played a Stormtrooper in Star Wars (since the troopers themselves were so rarely named).

Finally, yes I am borrowing/using plot points from the remake that revises what Avalanche’s goals were when it came to bombing the reactors. I know some people (my editor is one of them) didn’t care for that particular change because it paints Avalanche as a much lighter shade of gray than they were in the original game, but for me the new version make sense.

Unless explosives are both a lot easier to create and much more destructive in the world of FF7 than in real life, there’s no reason to think that Avalanche should have been able to make bombs powerful enough to destroy an entire mako reactor, let alone do it twice.

Chapter 7: Rise from your grief before it grows into your bane

The train rolled on, trading fire for decay as it left the disaster-stricken streets of Sector One for the more generally dilapidated ones of Lower Midgar.

Just like on the ride to the reactor, Sephiroth and Barret had the train car entirely to themselves.

Barret cleared his throat awkwardly.

“You… uh, you did good work.”

Sephiroth’s only response was a sullen stare.

He honestly wouldn’t know what “good work” felt like. He hadn’t been doing “good work” when he’d been serving Shinra, and in the wake of that catastrophe, his first mission for Avalanche hadn’t felt much better.

“This is just the first step, though; there are seven more reactors...” Barret began.

“Seven more reactors that need to be destroyed to stop Shinra, to save the Planet. To keep everyone alive today, and everyone who came before them from getting turned into mako power.” Sephiroth finished for him.

He wasn’t in a mood to talk… but also didn’t plan on severing his ties to Avalanche any time soon. Shinra had to be stopped; protecting the future of the Planet was all the logical reason he could ever ask for, and as for emotional reasons….

His mother. His mother. His mother….

Sephiroth wished that he could vent his outrage in bursts of incandescent fury like Barret did. He wished he could seek catharsis in surrendering himself to his hatred of Shinra. It would certainly be easier… but he knew whose voice whispered in the lure of the flames, knew the only place that road led to.

More fire, more senseless destruction, hell unleashed on a world too fragile to weather it.

Sephiroth could live with himself as a blade; he would not allow himself to become a bomb.

It was far safer, far more practical, for him to be cold. Any time spent either coddling or venting anguish was far better used ensuring the next demolition went off without a hitch.

Should he destroy the mako pump himself, remove all variables but his own raw power? It was within his abilities, he was certain… but would still prove taxing, and would require him to be physically present the entire time. Feasible, but not ideal…

Should he convince Barret to let him work alongside whoever made Avalanche’s explosives? Sephiroth had never been directly trained in demolitions, but he was a very fast learner, and another pair of eyes might catch something the original bomb-maker had missed...

Did he need to find a way to get his hands on some of Shinra’s most recent reactor blueprints? Was there something about their design that made them inherently unstable? That could explain how such a small bomb could trigger something so cataclysmic…

“I already contacted Jessie, she upgraded your ID.” Barret interrupted his train of thought as the compartment flashed red with the light of a Shinra security scan.

Sephiroth didn’t bother to reply. He’d already assumed that was the case; why would Avalanche’s leader risk sharing a train car with someone who the scanners would flag as a criminal?

“You’re part of Avalanche now, you and your brother. We look out for each other; that means I’m gonna find you a place to call your own and put some gil in your pocket for the work you did.”

“Don’t spend too much time looking. We’ll both be fine sleeping in in the basement.”

All of them had more important things to worry about than apartment shopping. Besides, after spending so much time on the front lines of the Wutain War; Sephiroth had refined the nebulous art of sleeping into a precise science. He could sleep anywhere that wasn’t actively on fire, and probably some places that were.

It was not exactly his proudest victory, but once, after a truly heroic amount of pleading, Zack had managed to convince Sephiroth to take part in Shinra’s unofficial annual inter-office SOLDIERs versus Turks “Olympic” games. Rather than compete in some sort of “sensible” event that would make use of his abilities; like free-running or eating month-old Wutain food, Zack had insisted that he’d needed his commander to be a true ringer.

If SOLDIER were going to win the games for once, then he needed Sephiroth to prove that he was the only man on the Planet capable of “out napping” Reno by falling asleep faster in a more awkward place, to be confirmed by heart monitor.

The judges had given him the gold for managing to doze off inside an active refrigerator in only two minutes, beating out his opponent’s feat of drifting off atop President Shinra's desk in five minutes. Sephiroth had privately conceded that Reno had certainly chosen a more hazardous place to sleep, but that hadn’t been one of the criteria being judged…

At any rate, based on the conditions Kadaj had been kept in, he probably wouldn’t make much of a fuss over having little more than a hard floor and a pillow to call his own either.

As for money, Sephiroth would take whatever Barret would offer. He already had several million gil sitting in a Shinra account, even if they’d doubtlessly have frozen it by this point, Money had never really mattered to Sephiroth; he had always found more important things to worry about…

XXX XXX XXX

“So, how did your mission with Kadaj go?” Tifa asked Jessie.

Given that they’d left fairly early in the morning and were only now getting back, things couldn’t have gone too poorly. On the other hand, since Kadaj had opted to take the “Seventh Heaven Special” down to the basement the moment no one was watching, something must not have gone according to plan.

“He’s fun enough to hang around with, and he’ll do a lot of good for Avalanche, but he’s a puppy. You might play with a puppy, but..." Jessie flashed a saucy grin. "I like my guys with a little bad boy in them."

On the heels of those words, Sephiroth stepped through the front door.

Jessie was instantly on her feet, eyes alight. Tifa felt an instinctive surge of sympathetic dread.

“Hello, tall, bright and handsome!” Jessie eagerly greeted Avalanche’s other newest member.

General Sephiroth did that thing with his eyes that scared people.

Jessie slunk back to the bar.

“Like I said, a little bad boy.” Jessie admitted, before suddenly leaning forward with great intensity.

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a third silver haired guy hidden around here do you?”

Tifa rolled her eyes, again, before confirming that Sephiroth wasn’t the only one to have returned from the mission.

“Marlene, your dad’s back!” Tifa called towards the back room.

Said back room’s door wiggled about for a few moments as its occupant struggled with it, before finally swinging open to allow Marlene Wallace to eagerly race toward her adoptive father’s waiting arm.

“Daddy! You’re home!” The girl squealed with delight.

“That’s right, angel, I am!” Barret declared proudly, scooping the four year old off the ground with a fluid ease born of long practice.

“Have you been a good girl?”

“I helped Tifa wash dishes so I could stay up late and wait for you!”

Every time Tifa saw those two she got a warm feeling in her chest. That girl’s past was one of tragedy, but she refused to allow it to define her future. Even having her original family and her home stolen from her hadn’t stopped her from finding new ones.

Marlene Wallace was a phoenix, even if she didn’t realize it, and witnessing her joy made Tifa long for the day she could truly spread her own fiery wings.

She returned her attention to Sephiroth, whose typical stoicism seemed in this case to cover a blend of conscious aloofness and awkward perplexity.

“They’re quite a pair.”

“She’s... happy.” Sephiroth noted; he almost stumbled over the word, as if it was a foreign concept that he understood on an intellectual level, but that continued to elude his intuitive grasp.

Tifa noticed the yellow flower that had been pinned to Sephiroth’s outfit, but decided it probably wasn’t her place to ask about it.

She was a bartender, not a therapist. Both had to be good listeners, but only the latter asked probing questions.

Luckily, before their awkward attempt at a conversation had to stagger along any further, Kadaj rode the pinball machine up from the basement. He greeted Sephiroth in a manner only slightly less exuberant than Marlene had Barret.

“Seph, it’s so great to see that you’re back! I mean, I knew that you’d come back, because whatever this mission was, you’d be able to do it no sweat, since you’re, you know, you! Still, I mean, I was, well, maybe just a little worried! But you’re here, you’re back, so I don’t need to be worried anymore… what’s this?” Kadaj’s outpouring of praise and relief only ground to a halt when he noticed the same flower Tifa had.

“Do you mean in general, or in particular?”

Kadaj tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“You’ve never seen one before?”

Kadaj eagerly nodded in agreement.

Sephiroth sighed, removed the flower from his outfit and attached it to Kadaj’s.

“This is a flower, it is the reproductive system that many plants use. They’re brightly colored and pleasant smelling because it helps them attract the birds and insects they rely on to spread their genetic material across a wider area. I can explain the process to you in more detail later.

For now just look at it, and know that it’s one of the very few flowers I’ve seen grown in Midgar. Before you ask, Shinra's Mako extraction is the reason there aren’t more of them.” Sephiroth explained, his previously cold tones mellowing out to merely reserved.

For some reason at almost the exact same moment that Kadaj relaxed and accepted the flower, Tifa felt herself relaxing as well. She’d been right; whatever else he was, Sephiroth was devoted to Avalanche’s cause.

“All right, that’s enough scowling and sighing. Shinra’s done plenty to mess up all of our lives, but if we can’t remember how to smile, that’s just letting the bastards win!” Insisted Barret as he returned to the bar after putting Marlene to bed.

“Tifa, break out the good stuff; it’s time to celebrate! Biggs, Wedge, Jessie, these are Avalanche’s two newest members: Sephiroth and Kadaj!”

XXX XXX XXX

In all honesty, Sephiroth could have done without the celebration. To those who didn’t have his unyielding convictions, some form of reassurance was probably welcome though.

Avalanche wasn’t an army, and its members weren’t soldiers. Their morale was probably higher than that of your average Shinra trooper, but it was also most likely a brittle, inflexible thing. Handled poorly, tonight’s tainted success could well cripple it to it.

That left him with little choice but to suffer this round of merriment. So he sat there and let the members of Avalanche gawk at him like an attraction in a circus.

He’d try to keep to himself and see what he could learn about his new companions through observation.

For the most part, anyway; the moment Biggs tried to slide the glass of amber red liquid across the table to Kadaj, Sephiroth intervened, passing it right back.

“Kadaj doesn’t drink.”

“Doesn’t everyone drink?” Kadaj asked, looking at his left hand as if surprised that it was empty.

“I’ll explain later.” Sephiroth promised.

Most SOLDIERS that he’d met wound up with livers so efficient at filtering out toxins that it was impossible for them get drunk. A few, though, saw this as a challenge and decided that the best solution was to simply keep drinking more until they finally achieved the altered state of mind desired.

Kadaj already had a somewhat loose grip on reality; Sephiroth didn’t want to see him come completely unmoored.

“More for the rest of us I guess. AVALANCHE!”

"Avalanche." Sephiroth dryly affirmed.

XXX XXX XXX

"Ms Pans..." Reeve glanced from the papers to the brunette who'd been his indispensable secretary since his promotion to department head, "I asked for the final figures...”

“Those are the final figures.” She insisted.

Reeve looked at them again.

“Did President Shinra cut the investigation short? These numbers don’t make sense.”

As he spoke, he quickly brought up a different set of numbers on his computer. He’d designed the newest iteration of mako reactors, doing everything he could to make them safer, but “safer” was not the same as “safe”.

He’d also drawn up projections for what to expect if a reactor was destroyed, in either an environmental disaster or deliberate act of sabotage.

Why were his predictions so out of step with reality?

“Loss of life is barely a quarter of my best case projections.” Reeve almost felt giddy for a brief moment.

Then he realized that he was feeling happy about the outcome of a disaster that had killed dozens of people and done upwards of a billion gil in damages, and cast his eyes downward in disgrace.

“I’ve got a long day of work ahead of me...” Reeve winced, wondering just what, if anything, he’d actually be able to do in order to mitigate the still-unfolding tragedy.

Was he supposed to just fill a dump-truck with gil, drive it into the center of Sector One, empty it out on street and let everyone grab whatever they needed?

The sad thing was that “Plan: Dump-Truck Money Dump” would likely still do more net good for the stricken sector than whatever President Shinra would actually end up approving.

XXX XXX XXX

“I’m Marlene.” The little girl introduced herself as she awkwardly clambered up onto on a bar stool next to his own.

“I’m Kadaj.” Avalanche’s youngest member answered with a relaxed smile.

“I’m four!” She added exuberantly, holding up all the fingers of her right hand.

“I’m two.” Kadaj replied, displaying the index and middle finger of his left hand.

That was actually being rather generous since Kadaj was, by his own reckoning, roughly two months old. He didn't know much about how most people matured, but he suspected this was not the same scale Marlene was using.

Marlene took a moment to look Kadaj up and down, then squinched up her face much like he did while grappling with an extremely complex issue.

“Why are you so big?” Was the question she eventually settled on.

Kadaj looked over at the pinball machine. Sephiroth had planned to sleep in, today; he was on his own.

“I’m just lucky.” Was the best answer he could give.

Marlene though that over for a bit but it seemed she could find no compelling counter argument.

“So you work for my daddy now?”

“Yeah, your dad is an amazing guy...” Kadaj began out of pure instinctual desire not to disappoint a wide eyed young girl.

It sure would have been nice if his brain was willing to meet him halfway and supply a proper end to the sentence, though!

Then he glanced down at the yellow flower and remembered what Sephiroth had told him.

“He really cares about the planet!” Kadaj finished with another smile, feeling quite proud of himself.

Thanks to his superhuman reflexes he’d even managed to figure out his response so fast that Marlene hadn’t noticed him pausing to think.

Just like he’d told the young girl, he really was lucky!

XXX XXX XXX

After the lunch rush, it was time for Avalanche to get together and plot their next mission- which meant Sephiroth suddenly had a great deal more company in the hidden basement.

“All right, Avalanche, its time set the wheels in motion for our next major operation against Shinra.” Barret called out to the six other members of the group.

“AVALANCHE!” The four who had didn’t have silver hair roared in approval.

“Avalanche!” Kadaj's cheer was a moment late, but no less exuberant.

“Avalanche.” Sephiroth saw no reason to feign enthusiasm, but still gave the word all the gravity of a solemn oath.

“So, first things first, I’d like to take a moment and thank Wedge; without his help, we might as well be picking numbers out of a hat to figure out which reactor to take down next. Instead, he managed to discover that Shinra is working on some type of new high tech weapon inside the Sector Five Reactor. Whatever it is, this thing is so mako thirsty that they decided to build it someplace where the stuff would be directly on tap... so when we scrap the reactor, that’ll not only give Shinra one less straw to suck the planet dry with, but also deprive them of their newest toy!

Jessie, we’re gonna need five train passes for this mission, and another bomb.”

"No sweat! I, um... I've already figured out what I'll do differently on this one, so don't worry about a thing!" She seemed to be trying to convince herself as much as she was the rest of the team.

“Wedge, its your job to guard our home base and look after Marlene. You’re the one who’ll make sure my baby girl is still here when I get back...” Sephiroth was impressed by the ease with which Barret granted prestige to the mundane, yet necessary task.

No one in army wanted to be responsible for digging latrines, but it had to get done all the same.

“Biggs, you’re going to head in early and lay the prepwork. Try to figure out what we’re up against or if Shinra expects we’re gonna strike again this soon, especially if its against the Sector Five Reactor in particular.”

“Tifa, Sephiroth, Kadaj, you three will stick with me; we’re gonna be the actual strike team.” Barret finished.

“Good.” Was Tifa’s only response, though Sephiroth noticed she was clenching both of her hands into fists.

XXX XXX XXX

It was 8:45 PM; Barret had promised himself he'd make a decision by 9:00 to ensure the attack would coincide with the reactor's evening shift change. It was getting down to the wire; scrap or go, he had to commit soon.

He still hadn’t heard back from Biggs.

He angrily pressed the “reload” key on an otherwise completely mundane email account.

The account still hadn’t received any new messages, and if he didn’t hear from Biggs soon it might mean Shinra had captured him. On the other hand, it might just mean that his communication equipment had suffered some minor malfunction and waiting would give Shinra time to complete their new weapon. Should he go ahead with the mission and risk the possibility that the rest of Avalanche would be walking right into a trap?

He allowed himself to breathe easily when a “1” popped up in the account’s “Drafts” folder, a signal that, in theory, someone else was partway into writing an email.

Barret selected it, opening the message with no recipients and no subject line. Its contents were a single character.

“!”.

Barret grabbed his black sunglasses and turned to face the basement’s only other occupant.

“Hot damn! Sephiroth, mission is live! Grab your little brother and let's show Shinra what happens when they mess with our Planet!”

Sephiroth was laying on a pile of boxes with his traditional “completely unreadable” expression but in a few moments he was standing by the pinball machine ready for a ride up.

Barret joined him, and started passing out more orders the moment the machine was halfway up.

“Jessie, get the word out on the web, since Shinra refused to shut down their reactors, Avalanche is gonna generously do the job for them.” He ordered.

Avalanche’s computer specialist shot him a quick salute as she was crouched over the laptop Sephiroth had brought with him, relishing the chance to finally have a top of the line machine to work with.

“Tifa, grab your gloves.” He called out to Seventh Heaven’s owner.

A dirty rag hit the bar’s counter.

The door to the Seventh Heaven’s backroom didn’t have a chance to stop swinging from its owner’s speedy entrance before she exited it, combat gloves adorning her fists.

“Alright, let’s get going.” Her voice had the grim, purposeful energy of a hunting dog that had finally been let off the leash.

Sephiroth glanced at Kadaj.

"Are you ready to go to work?"

“I came out of the mako tank ready!” Kadaj eagerly vowed, standing up from his seat to take up a flanking position behind Sephiroth.

The four of them headed for the train station with Barret in the lead.

This was the first time Tifa had actually joined Barret on a mission, but that barely mattered; if he could trust her with Marlene, he could definitely trust her with his life!

As for “Sephiroth”, at this point it hardly mattered to Barret if he was the genuine article or not. Maybe he was just some random SOLDIER who was putting on a show. Maybe he was just some crazy strong nutjob who simply believed himself to be the legendary general…

Hell, maybe he was the real thing; right now, all Barret cared about was that Sephiroth had proven his commitment to the mission. After his performance in Sector 1, he’d earned himself at least a little trust and respect.

Finally, there was Kadaj.

Even Sephiroth admitted he was untested and even Marlene could tell that he didn’t have the eyes of a killer. Who knew how much help he was actually going to be on this mission?

Well, there had been times when Barret had wondered exactly how much good Wedge could do for Avalanche, and if it wasn’t for his skills at information gathering then they would never have gotten a chance to nip Shinra’s latest mechanical monstrosity in the bud.

Avalanche was rolling, and Shinra was downhill.

End Chapter.

AN: The method of contact Biggs and Barret are using is to the best of my understanding (the purity (by which I meant not drawing the attention of law enforcement agencies) of my search history insists I don’t look too deeply into it) is a real world method of contact for clandestine electronic “email”, because it is a lot easier for someone watching a system to notice a message that is actively being sent between two different accounts than one that is simply created in a dummy account by one person, and then viewed by a second person with access to that same account on a different machine.

Chapter 8: Too many war wounds and not enough wars, too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores.

“So, how did you and my brother first meet?” Kadaj asked Tifa.

Sephiroth barely held back his wince.

The four of them were already above the Plate and otherwise alone in the a train car headed for the Sector Five Mako Reactor, but this was still neither the time, or place to discuss such personal matters.

“Kadaj, I can share my history with Ms. Lockhart later….” Sephiroth cut in.

“No, it’s fine.” Tifa seemed to have other ideas, however. “Five years ago, your brother saved my life.”

“Emergency ID scan initiated...” A mechanical voice cut Tifa's story short; Sephiroth almost sighed with relief.

Everyone in the car turned their eyes towards the voice’s source. They’d already gone through one routine ID scan without raising any red flags but…

“Unauthorized IDs detected. Threat level: critical. Inspection and containment sweep initiated, commencing at the rear of the train.” The monotone voice somehow managed to sound accusatory.

“Any chance that maybe some other bad people got on the train recently?” Kadaj suggested forlornly.

“We ain’t sticking around to find out.” Barret insisted, rising from his seat.

Before any of them could exit the compartment, several of its windows were smashed in by a quintet of vaguely canine Shinra drones.

Sephiroth's hand hovered over Masamune's hilt; there was no way to use it without carving the car to pieces with them still in it.

Luckily, he didn’t need to

“My turn.”

Tifa sprang from her seat and landed in a crouch before of the robots. A low hook kick launched it across the breadth of the train car. It struck a second drone on its path to the far wall with enough force to carry them both through the window, to be quickly left behind by the fast-moving train.

It struck a second drone on its path to the far wall with enough force to send the one it struck sailing out the window, to be quickly left behind by the fast-moving train. As for the original, it slammed into the far wall of the train with enough force to leave a noticeable dent and started shooting sparks.

That didn’t seem enough to satisfy Tifa though, she closed in and stomped the machine into the wall enlarging the bulge to almost half a foot in length and turning the robot into so much scrap.

Before Tifa's leg was done fully retracting from her blow a third Shinra drone pounced on her from behind. She rode out the impact, and twisted around, grabbing the machine just above where the bladed segment of its leg began.

With loud “CRACK” she slammed the drone against the floor, then followed up with a kick savage enough to tear the limb free and reduce the machine to a lump of misshapen metal.

Kadaj handled the other two in short order; the confined spaces were little trouble for Souba which trisected a robot before he zapped the final one with lighting.

“Exeunt Avalanche pursued by mechanical bear.” Sephiroth sighed dryly.

He raced over to the doors leading out of their compartment, but for one of the few times in his life. Sephiroth wasn’t fast enough. His hand deflected away from the door, and he recognized the characteristic shimmer of the kinetic barriers that had already proven capable of resisting Masamune.

“Four unauthorized passengers successfully contained. Neutralizing threat...” The mechanical voice announced as half a dozen more robots flooded into the compartment.

“Getting real cramped in here!” Barret grumbled, clambering up on the seats in search of a clean line of fire.

“If we can’t escape, Shinra will eventually decide they’re okay with destroying this entire compartment. If they realize it’s me, they’ll destroy the entire train. We need a way out, even if we have to jump...” Sephiroth warned.

“And here I was worried you’d have trouble fitting in at Avalanche. Jumping off of a moving train is a Biggs’ plan ‘E’ if I ever heard one.” Barret chuckled.

Unfortunately, the nearest pair of side doors used to enter or exit the train also had a flickering fields protecting them. The doors at the far side lacked them, however, and the ruined remains of the drone Tifa'd embedded in the wall gave a fair guess at why.

They’d escape out those doors; once they dealt with with Shinra's robotic reinforcements.

“This is my plan G.”

“How many plans you got under that silver mop, and when were you planning on sharing them with the rest of us?”

“Enough that most of them are numbered, and I'll share them when they become relevant. Somehow, they always seem to go better the less I talk about them...” Sephiroth deadpanned.

"That so? Alright, plan man, we all make it in plan G?"

"Yes. Kadaj does end up needing an eyepatch for a week or two in plan M, however."

While the two of them discussed strategy, Kadaj and Tifa were working together to clear a path through the robots and advance down the train compartment.

Once he had a clear shot, Barret fiddle with his gun arm, then fired a breaching round that left a noticeable dent in the door.

That, combined with a kick from Kadaj, dislodged it; at which point Tifa slammed an elbow into the emergency brake button.

By some miracle, a Shinra safety feature actually worked as advertised, and the sound of screeching metal filled the air as the train began to decelerate.

"We're still moving pretty fast, will you be all... right?" Kadaj found him asking the empty space Tifa had just vacated.

"Huh. Guess so!" He shrugged, then launched himself after her.

Kadaj flung himself toward the far wall of the tunnel, hitting it feet first, then kicked off, bleeding off momentum in a corkscrew spin to land lightly in the train's wake.

Tifa, having opted for a more conventional tuck and roll landing, was dusting herself off a few yards further down the tunnel.

Sephiroth's boots hit the ground a moment later, followed by Barret's. Even with the emergency brake engaged the train was still moving forward; more Shinra drones began to cluster around it like ants converging around spilled picnic food.

“Could have gone worse.” Sephiroth admitted.

“You don’t know how right you are...” Barret noted with a touch of pride.

He made his way over to a wall that bore a drawing of a cartoon dog in a green army helmet.

“See, this is why we sent Biggs in ahead. This here is OUR plan ‘E’. He did a little creative graffiti to make sure that we don’t get lost in these twisty train tunnels. The dog’s nose will always point in the direction of the Sector Five Reactor. It’s a straight shot, all we gotta do is take it.” Avalanche’s leader explained.

“Well, we’ve also gotta walk a long way. That’s fine though; I don’t get tired!” Kadaj added “helpfully”.

XXX XXX XXX

“So, why did you join Avalanche?” Kadaj asked Tifa.

Sephiroth would have been fine with this trip taking place in silence, but unsurprisingly his younger brother had other ideas.

“I joined, because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t. Troopers, SOLDIERs, Mako Reactors, Shinra, I hate 'em all. They take away all the things and people you love. I swore to myself I’d make them all disappear.”

/Planet, what did I do to this girl?\ Sephiroth sighed to himself, lengthening his stride to put some distance between himself and the conversation.

XXX XXX XXX

Just as Kadaj had predicted, after one very long walk through Midgar’s subway system, they finally reached the Sector Five Reactor.

“This place reeks of mako...” Barret announced he crawled out of a ventilation shaft.

“Isn’t ‘reeks’, overselling it? What’s wrong with the smell of mako?” Kadaj couldn’t help but ask.

“Bad memories...” Sephiroth instantly answered.

Kadaj could tell that this was another topic his big brother didn’t want to discuss in depth until “later”.

“We’re already near mako storage, but remember that’s only half of the reason we’re here. Whatever brand new weapon Shinra is working on, we need to find it and trash it before we leave.” Barret insisted.

“That’s why Jessie set us up with this.” Tifa noted with a slight smirk as she patted the pocket that held the remote detonator.

Said detonator would allow them to plant the bomb, but defer arming it until they were done dealing with Shinra’s secret weapon. Kadaj could certainly see the wisdom in not having to search an entire reactor from top to bottom, with an armed and ticking time bomb inside it.

There was just one problem with the next phase of the plan.

“I’m not seeing a way down...” “We may need to make a ladder...” Barret and Sephiroth mused simultaneously.

“Here, maybe?” Tifa offered, gesturing towards a large metal pipe jutting out of one of the reactor’s walls, its starting point about ten feet below them.

“Tifa, you come up with the best plans!” Kadaj giggled, grasping the bar owner in an impulsive hug.

Then he broke away and vaulted over the guard rails, landing flat on his back atop the pipe.

“WEEEEEEEEE….” Kadaj cheered as he slid down.

Then as he neared the end of the pipe, he effortlessly rolled off of it, to land on a second pipe, riding that one the rest of the way down.

He was fairly sure the other three were saying something up above, but he was having too much fun to pay attention.

Tilting his head back slightly he noticed that the other three had opted to stay upright and ride down the pipe balanced on their feet; well, whatever they felt comfortable with.

“That was an… interesting approach to my plan.” Tifa admitted after she fished sliding down the pipe.

“Kadaj, avoid taking needless risks.” Sephiroth scolded as he hopped off the pipe.

“Well, I mean, it wasn’t exactly needless, and it wasn’t exactly a risk...” Kadaj faltered under Sephiroth's flat stare.

Kadaj tried to figure out how best to explain the importance of fun to his older brother. Sadly, just contemplating where to start ended up taking him so long that Barret also completed the trip down and noticed something the other three had missed.

“Hey, kids, over here...”

It was a computer console displaying a large mechanical… machine…

It roughly resembled a human from the waist up, but it ended at the knees, with everything from the waist down covered by plated metal cowling.

“So that’s Shinra’s newest weapon... The only question now is where in the reactor are they actually keeping it?” Sephiroth mused.

“And why did they just leaving a console turned on and broadcasting images of it to anyone walking by?” Tifa added a moment later.

“Morale building?” It wasn’t much of an answer, but Kadaj couldn’t think of a better one.

He didn’t completely understand the concept, but the doctor’s had explained that it was important to always be willing to show off what you were capable of; that way people would feel confident you could protect them.

“I wish I could believe that; by this point in our attack on the Sector One Reactor we’d already had to deal with roughly a dozen automated turrets and a handful of guard dogs. Why is this place less heavily defended?” Sephiroth pondered.

“Maybe Shinra got spooked and cleared out?” Barret suggested.

There was a soft humming sound and quartet of the “Monodrive” drones that Kadaj had been taught about fluttered into the room from some hidden entrance.

It sounded like he had some work to do.

XXX XXX XXX

The monodrives were no problem for her and the others.

Even the pair of sweeper robots hadn’t put up much of a challenge thanks to Sephiroth and Kadaj. Avalanche kept moving with the inexorable nature of a rock-slide until they finally reached the reactor itself.

“So, who’d like to do the honors?” Barret pulled the bomb free from his jacket with a grim smile.

“This place may not be Seventh Heaven; but for some reason, I’m still in the mood to serve the drinks.” Tifa eagerly snatched it from his hand.

“I’ve had a lot of experience making Cosmo Canyons… I think I’ll call this a Cosmo Cannon...” She announced with a playful smirk while attaching the bomb.

“When the time comes, I press the button, and tomorrow Shinra’s wakes up with the mother of all hangovers.” Tifa quipped.

Except that once was the bomb firmly in place, a string of explosions started.

The ladders that they’d climbed down in order to get to the center of the reactor were instantly blown to pieces. The doorway that they’d entered through was blocked by a heap of rubble. The many platforms that they’d moved across collapsed one after another in a string of blasts.

“Is another cell hitting this reactor, too?” Tifa wondered, unable to come up with any other possible reason for why the reactor suddenly seemed to be suffering from a series of pinpoint acts of sabotage.

That couldn’t be it though, the explosions weren’t damaging the reactor; they were cutting off Avalanche’s avenues of escape, with distressing thoroughness.

That was when the drones arrived.

There were over a dozen of them, but unlike the other Shinra robots Avalanche had encountered, these ones seemed to be completely unarmed. Instead, as they floated close together a glowing blue image emerged of a bearded man’s upper body

“Gya haah hah hah! Greetings my dear sewer rats!” The man cackled triumphantly.

Tifa recognized him at once, and if this man knew what they were doing Avalanche was in a lot of trouble...

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth recognized the man at once; if he was Avalanche’s primary opposition, they couldn’t be in too much trouble...

“General Heidegger. Holograms? You're really committing to the REMF life, I see.” Sephiroth remarked conversationally.

“Sephiroth, you should have stayed a MIA when you had the chance!” The translucent figure boomed.

“Who is he exactly?” Kadaj inquired, paying more attention to his big brother than the 20 foot tall holograph.

“Artillery commander in the Wutain War. Too much work and not enough distance for his liking, but he found a brilliant shortcut to acclaim: he'd order danger close bombardments on close quarters fights, then report all casualties as belonging to the enemy.”

That introduction out of the way; Sephiroth returned his attention to the matter at hand.

“So, do you plan to kill me because I’m going to destroy this reactor, or are you just still upset that I was promoted to general before you?”

“That was a BREVET promotion, you jumped up noncom!” Heidegger roared, his larger-than-life simulacrum rendering the veins on his forehead with alarming clarity.

“Really? Funny how President Shinra never got around to revoking it in the two years after the war.”

“Enough! You know, you should be flattered; you’re getting another chance to command the undivided attention of every soul in Midgar.” Heidegger’s tone abruptly turned jovial in a manner not even Kadaj would consider genuine.

“At this very moment, countless people are being removed from their homes because of the evacuation which Shinra has been forced, with heavy heart, to order for the safety of the those in the path of your terrorist rampage. We in the Public Safety department are the only ones who can stand against such murderous blackguards! And so, to a people beset by chaos and uncertainty, we shall offer the finest comfort: bread and circus!” The holographic general boasted.

“Hah! I bet you ain’t gonna give out one single crumb!” Harrumphed Barret.

“Foodstuffs are Urban Development’s concern, not mine. As for entertainment though…” Heidegger held out his huge hands and a holographic representation of the same robot they’d seen before flickered to life in his palms.

Except the robot was no longer lifeless; it flexed its arms, and seemed to hover under its own power.

“I give you Shinra’s latest triumph of technology, the Airbuster! Designed for combating only the greatest and most dangerous of monsters… I suppose it is only fitting that it gets a chance to prove itself against monsters like you!” Heidegger chortled gleefully.

“Engineering on the line. The Airbuster is only sixty percent operational! The estimates were optimistic...” Another more panicked voice abruptly announced.

“I’m on air!” Heidegger screamed at the unseen, uninvited interrupter before the gigantic representation of him vanished; most likely terminating the connection before anything else of value could be leaked to Avalanche.

Kadaj snickered.

Sephiroth felt like he should be warning his brother not to take the threat that Shinra represented lightly.... but this was General Heidegger...

"Sounds like we got ourselves a lucky break, so let's show those fat cats what these ‘sewer rats’ can do! Mission is still the same, all that’s changed is Shinra wants to bring their new toy to us. Make’s sending it to the junkyard that much easier.”

“To the imbecile in charge down there, you are hereby ordered to seize those intruders and bring them to me!” Heidegger’s voice thundered, though this time it seemed to be coming through a much more mundane PA system.

The one remaining operational door leading out of the room opened, and four figures in red charged through it.

Eite shock troopers.

If Shinra hadn’t changed their policy in the last five years, then their regular shock troopers were so pumped full of combat drugs that they’d probably die fighting before considering surrender; the ones who got promoted liked the feel of that hellish chemical cocktail.

“Come quietly or they’ll be trouble!” Their leader commanded.

Barret simply pressed his index finger to his lips and blew out a soft “sssshhhhhhh.”

XXX XXX XXX

“I’m really sorry about this.” Kadaj insisted, as he dodged another strike from a clawed gauntlet.

“Stay still, you stupid pipsqueak!” Screamed the trooper.

His gauntlets lashed out again, but they were made for extreme close-in combat, and Kadaj saw no reason to play his opponent’s game. Instead, he employed careful footwork to always keep himself just outside his foe’s reach.

“Look, I’d really rather not hurt you all that badly, but I totally will if I have to...” Kadaj protested as he tried to figure out the best way to disable his opponent without actually hurting them.

The problem was that they were wearing so much armor, and that armor also doubled as their offensive tools, so how was he supposed to disarm them?

So much armor…

Oh, well that made it actually pretty easy once he stopped to think about it!

He concentrated, and an aura of arcing electricity crackled into being around him.

“Idiot.” Scoffed the shock trooper as he lunged for Kadaj again.

“My armor comes with built in insulators, you could run a million volts through it and I wouldn’t feel a thing!”

The claws came at him again, but this time Kadaj jumped straight over the shock troopers head before reaching out to gently tap a single finger on the shock trooper’s shoulder.

“Good.” Kadaj noted, and let the electricity loose.

The energy flowed into the trooper’s armor, and he toppled over like a felled tree.

“What the hell?!” The trooper growled as he struggled in vain to move, but his armor might as well have been welded to the floor for all the progress he made.

“Electromagnetism is my favorite natural phenomenon. Okay, second favorite actually; without photosynthesis none of us would be here.” As Kadaj spoke, he took up position on top of the fallen trooper.

After a few moments of careful inspection his hands located the release catch for the trooper’s helmet, and began to poke and prod at it. Alas, Kadaj had no more luck removing the helmet than the trooper did standing up.

“Why won’t this stupid helmet come off? It is like this thing weighs a ton! Why would a simple metal helmet be so- oh. Ohhhhhh... Heh." The youth couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he realized that he might not have thought this plan all the way through.

After taking a deep breath and adopting a position that offered him greater leverage Kadaj applied all the strength his muscles could muster to the task. With a mighty heave managed to remove the troopers helmet and carry it three inches before it shot to the floor with a metallic “clunk”.

"There we go!" With the helmet removed, the injector assembly on the back of the shock trooper neck was visible. Kadaj poked it, and, with another electrical surge, the indicator LEDs flared, then died as a tiny wisp of smoke floated upward.

The swearing trooper's struggles slowed, then ceased. Kadaj grinned as he recalled one of his lessons: the drug cocktail that Shinra pumped into their shock troopers greatly improved their strength and speed, but came with a severe crash if the feed was cut off too suddenly.

XXX XXX XXX

“Girl, I am gonna cut you to ribbons...” The elite shock trooper chuckled to himself as he sized up Tifa.

“No.” She promised coolly and calmly.

The shock trooper’s right arm struck out at her, but she drew back faster than the trooper could follow.

As the metal claws whistled through the air Tifa pivoted with superhuman speed, and grabbed the trooper’s right shoulder, yanking him even further off balance. Then she sealed the deal with a side kick to her foe’s knee, aiming for the joint where the armor was inevitably most vulnerable.

The sound of something of Shinra’s shattering was music to her ear, it didn’t matter if it was armor or bone.

Tifa yanked still harder and pulled the trooper to the ground as she launched herself upwards. She descended knee first into the trooper's right shoulder, driving him to the floor with no working limbs on the right side of his body.

Easy as that, the trooper was on the ground, his unharmed limbs denied any leverage with which to act.

At that point it really was no contest.

No contest, and no reason to stop until he stopped moving, forever.

Tifa couldn’t help but smile at the results of her handiwork; one more broken weapon in Shinra’s arsenal.

XXX XXX XXX

“I know self preservation isn’t high on your list of priorities at the moment, but try to think about this logically for just a moment… I’m General Sephiroth.” He warned the elite shock trooper.

Alas, the trooper refused to head his completely reasonable advice.

Instead of attacking Sephiroth head on, the trooper raised up his gauntlets, and they unleashed a several crackling discharges of electrical energy.

“Hmm, upgrades.” Sephiroth admitted, he couldn’t recall shock troopers being able to do that five years ago.

Not that it made a difference; the arcing blasts crossed the intervening space in the blink of an eye, but the man aiming them might as well have been swimming through mud.

He closed in with the shock trooper, and grabbed hold of his gauntlets; which were only dispersing electrical energy from their tips rather than coursing across their entire length.

What did course across their entire length was ice.

Sephiroth froze the gauntlets, then tightened his grip ever so slightly.

Chunks of ice flew through the air as both gauntlets shattered.

The elite shock trooper tilted his helmeted head downwards and gazed at his bare hands.

“I know self preservation isn’t high on your list of priorities at the moment," Sephiroth repeated with a mild smirk, "but try to think about this logically for just a moment… I’m General Sephiroth.”

XXX XXX XXX

“When I’m done with you, they’re gonna be able to attach three more guns to your corpse.” The elite shock trooper boasted.

This was not a fight that favored Barret Wallace. He knew that elite shock trooper’s armor was bullet resistant without seriously impeding their speed, and his lighting materia wouldn’t help him much either.

A gun was simply not the weapon you wanted against a foe who could quickly close with you before you could shoot them dead.

Barret was outmatched in every way… except one.

Even elite shock troopers took orders; Barret Wallace gave them.

“Sephiroth, I could use some help.” He admitted.

The shock trooper lunged at Barret, a blur of red and white.

A faster blur of black and silver intercepted him.

Sephiroth's open hand caught the trooper square in the chest. Before the trooper could react, Sephiroth had carried him the length of the room, slammed him against a wall hard enough to buckle armor and wall alike, and sealed him within a shell of ice.

“What’s Engineering progress on getting that Airbuster operational? Still only sixty percent? Bullshit! "Get it done, or I'll throw you off the plate myself!” Heidegger berated his subordinates over the reactor’s PA system.

“It’s been like, less than a minute since you last asked; you should really give them more time!” Kadaj couldn’t help but point out now that he was done fighting for his life.

“You’re wasting your time.” Sephiroth muttered.

“I don’t know; I kinda like the kid’s enthusiasm.” Barret chuckled.

XXX XXX XXX

“Get these components prepped for the Airbuster ASAP!”

“It’s ready sir!”

“Component outbound from B8!”

Such was the chatter taking place between various Shinra personnel as Avalanche entered the room.

There were two elite guards and five regular ones manning various computer terminals in the room, but they soon abandoned that task to aim their weapons at the intruders.

They hadn’t started shooting, though. Barret could work with that; it didn't hurt that there were also a dozen unarmed people in orange vests and hardhats who looked like they profoundly wished they were absolutely anywhere else at the moment.

“Here’s how this works.” He announced, taking a moment to remove his sunglasses so he could look the various troopers in the eye.

“Standing on my right is a woman who would very much like to punch you all to death.”

The woman in question didn’t say anything, she just gazed out into the room, hatred smoldering in her eyes.

“Standing on my left, is a man who would prefer you didn’t die.”

The man in question didn’t say anything either, his expression was at best “not openly hostile”.

“Luckily for you all, I’m the leader, and that means I get to make the final call.”

Eyes shifted rapidly back and forth between the two men, one of whom was obviously General Sephiroth… and and yet this man was the one in charge?

“Now, I ain’t got any love for you Shinra dogs, but a good commander, unlike the one you poor bastards have, listens to his troops. So here’s how this is is gonna work: if you make like good doggies who run away with their tails between their legs, you’ll get to live.

Just three conditions: you’re gonna carry off these friends of yours we brought with us, you’re gonna warn anyone else you see to get the hell out of this reactor, and before you leave the room, you're going to turn over your helmets.

We get into a fight with anyone who doesn’t have a helmet...” Barret shrugged.

"I go for the head." Tifa filled in.

Then she held out her hands, and Kadaj placed a helmet into them.

She ripped the thing apart like it was made of wet cardboard and let the pieces fall to the floor.

“So, who wants to surrender?”

XXX XXX XXX

“I still can’t believe Shinra is this incompetent.” Sephiroth sighed as he looked at a graphical display of the Airbuster once room B8 had been abandoned.

“Far as I can tell, they played us like a damn fiddle...” Barret grumbled.

“You made the best call you could.” Tifa insisted, placing a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“There are two key components to every ambush. The first, is convincing the enemy to go exactly where you want them to be. I’ll admit they did quite well on that front.

The second though; that’s having a force of you own ready to wipe out the enemy once they’ve taken the bait. Shinra’s ‘force’ is a robot that is still under construction! They could have sent two dozen First Class SOLDIERs, they could have just had their own massive bomb that went off when we approached the reactor, but no; Heidegger insisted on using a fancy robot that isn’t even off the production line yet.” Sephiroth scoffed in open derision.

“If it’s still under construction, can we do anything to deconstruct it?” Kadaj suggested eagerly.

Fingers flew across a keyboard.

A moment later a few of the bright lights on the Airbuster’s digital representation went dark.

“Exactly my thoughts; that’s why I just rerouted some of this machine’s munitions straight to the incinerator.”

XXX XXX XXX

“Component Construction Room B7, report!” Heidegger screamed into his radio.

At first there was only the crackling of static, but then a voice answered him, an infernally smug baritone voice.

“I’m sorry, the occupants of Room B7 decided they’d rather hand over their helmets, than die for your convenience.”

“Traitors, all of them. Just like you.” Heidegger half spat half snarled.

“By the way, I hope your precious Airbuster didn’t need this ‘AI Programming Core’ too badly. You always knew so much more about industrialized warfare than I did… Also, just for curiosity's sake, was it your idea to present a live broadcast of the Midgar's greatest hero rebelling against Shinra? Because one of my fellow terrorists insists it must have been Palmer's..."

“You aren’t even worthy of the title of ‘soldier’ let alone ‘general’; you were always nothing but a dog, and now you’ve gone rabid.”

“Woof.”

The line went dead.

XXX XXX XXX

“Component Construction Room B6, report!” Heidegger could feel his anger growing in time with the incompetence of his subordinates.

There was more static, then a voice, a voice that did not use the properly deferential tones to address the Head of Shinra’s Public Safety Department.

“You want a report? Okay, listen up!” The voice was rougher than Sephiroth’s, and a great deal louder.

“Mako is the lifeblood of the Planet! If we didn’t rise up against Shinra then you’d turn this entire beautiful Planet into a lifeless hunk of rock! I don’t gotta tell you that though; no, top Shinra brass like you knows exactly what you’re doing, you just don’t care! Does it make you feel proud to know that you’re gonna be the last one to….” The voice continued.

Heidegger changed the frequencies on his radio.

“This is General Heidegger, I want all the radio equipment from room B6 dropped from the network!” He ordered.

“… The Planet is screaming in pain and you’re busy shovin’ piles of gil into your ears so you can pretend not to hear it! The day is gonna come when…” Was the first response he got back.

It seemed he’d underestimated their tenacity. How tiresome.

XXX XXX XXX

“Room B5 status report?”

The radio crackled to life.

“Brian Lockhart sends his regards.”

The signal cut out.

Heidegger scowled. Who the hell was Brian Lockhart?

XXX XXX XXX

Everything else the Sector Five Reactor could throw at them had either fled or fallen. Avalanche had done everything they could to sabotage the Airbuster by rerouting important components to the incinerator.

Now they’d reached the critical T-intersection located just outside the reactor’s entrance. If the Airbuster didn’t get deployed against them soon Shinra wouldn’t get a chance.

Sure enough, as they entered the area, a quartet of small drones floated up to meet them, before splitting apart to project a holographic image.

This one wasn’t of General Heidegger, however.

“Hello John.” Sephiroth greeted the larger than life figure.

“So it is true what Heidegger said, how disappointing.” Reflected the Shinra Electric Power Company’s CEO.

A moment later there was a series of sharp cracks and one of the drones was shredded by gunfire.

“Think you’re forgetting someone?” Barret called out.

The holographic image wavered for a moment, but more drones arrived and it stabilized.

“Would that I could; at least even as a foe Sephiroth can be relied upon for his terse nature. You strike me as the type to go on without end.” President Shinra sighed languidly.

“Ain’t enough hours in the day to hold you to account for all your crimes!” Barret bellowed at the drone that was floating closest to him.

“You want to portray me as some kind of monster, but do you know what I am? I am a man who loves his life. I am a man who does not sacrifice his love or his values. Avalanche has no concepts of morality but the mystical or the social. You have would say that morality is a code of behavior imposed on you by whim; the whim of a supernatural power or the whim of society. To serve the Planet’s purpose or your neighbor’s welfare, to please an authority beyond the grave or else next door, but not to serve your life or pleasure…

An entity that regarded its means of survival as evil will not survive. A doctrine that gives you, as an ideal, the role of a sacrificial animal seeking slaughter on the altars of others, is giving you death as your standard. By the grace of reality and the nature of life, man, every man, is an end in himself; he exists for his own sake, and the achievement of his own happiness is his highest moral purpose.”

Sephiroth and Barret exchanged glances, they could both tell what the other was thinking.

Sephiroth let loose with a series of lighting bolts and Barret still more bullets, each destroying one drone after another as President Shinra continued to drone on.

Once again the holographic image flickered out of existence, but Shinra seemed to have enough of their robotic minions on hand to filibuster the members of Avalanche despite their best efforts.

Except that when the holographic image coalesced a third time it was General Heidegger rather than President Shinra.

“Do you know what I hate about you most Sephiroth?” The dark haired man snarled.

Sephiroth remained stoically silent.

“You. Ended. The. War!”

“What?” Every member of Avalanche was caught equally flatfooted, and ended up gasping the word in unison.

“Shinra had a greater population to draw upon, a stronger economy, a greater industrial base, we had materia, we had SOLDIERs! We held all the cards, and by carefully limiting exactly how large a force we deployed, we were able to draw out the war for eight glorious years!” Heidegger chortled.

Sephiroth felt his always pale face going whiter still. This was insane, this was beyond insane. Heidegger talked about the Wutain War the same way that a farmer might talk about cows or crops, something to be carefully nurtured.

“Then you had to come along and throw everything into chaos! You brought Wutai to its knees, and suddenly everyone in Midgar was no longer willing to sacrifice for the good of Shinra. People who only weeks ago had been patriotic recruits, now started to demand things like education, healthcare, and countless other fripperies!

I thought that we’d never again have another chance to truly unite the people of Midgar, but then in their boundless wisdom, Wutai gave us a wonderful gift…. Avalanche!

Avalanche, the sinister servants of wicked Wutai who will inflict upon Midgar suffering the likes of which Wutai’s armies never could have even dreamed of! All of Midgar will be howling for their blood, and this time, this time the war will never end! Gya haa haa haa!”

Sephiroth just stared straight ahead, utterly incredulous. How could he, how could anyone respond to something like that? “You’re insane” seemed paradoxically far too self evident, and yet also far too milquetoast a response.

Before he could decide what to say, the holographic Heidegger gave way to a shot of the reactor’s core, and the bomb Tifa had planted. More Shinra drones were surrounding it, but they didn’t seem to be trying to disarm it...

“What are you doing?” Demanded Barret angrily.

“Don't you see? You fools were never in control. Never anything but pawns in our plans to sell great and glorious war to the people! And your instruments of insurrection will detonate, when we so choose!”

The bomb’s display lit up.

“25:00”

“24:59

“24:58”

“Tifa, deactivate it!” Barret insisted instantly.

Tifa slammed the green “deactivate” button on her remote detonator, again, and again and again….

“24:57”

“24:56”

“24:55”

Nothing she did made a difference, Shinra must have somehow “hijacked” their bomb.

Shinra wanted Avalanche to destroy this entire reactor to make people rally to their banner.

Shinra... had doubtlessly been responsible for turning his previous from mission from a bit of pin-point sabotage into a sector-wide catastrophe. They were blowing up their own reactors, just so that they’d have more crimes to accuse Avalanche of.

Every time Sephiroth thought Shinra had finally hit the bottom of the barrel, they found a way to drill through it.

Heidegger flickered back into being, a terrifying smile on his face.

“Now let us raise the curtain on our main event! The trial of the eco-extremist group Avalanche!”

As he spoke, Sephiroth’s keen eyes picked up the sight of an approaching transport helicopter.
Underslung by an array of wires was the Airbuster itself.

It drew closer and closer, then the wires were released. The Airbuster plummeted out of the sky and landed on the catwalk before them, flexing its mechanical muscles in preparation for the battle to come.

“Terrorists who conspired with Wutai against Midgar! Your guilt is undeniable! Your punishment: death!” Heidegger crowed.

XX X XXX XXX

“I’m sick of this. I'm sick of all of this!” Tifa insisted as she approached one of the drones, and kicked it straight into the general’s holographic face.

“Shinra thinks they get to make all the rules because they’re stronger than everyone else? Well two can play that game. Let me show you just how strong I am.” She promised.

The last five years of her life, they’d been nothing but an extended training session; for her, this was going to be her first real fight, and she wasn’t going to disappoint.

Especially since the Airbuster had decided to focus on Sephiroth and Kadaj, leaving its back wide open to her.

She hopped up onto the metal “skirt” that contained the Airbuster’s engines, and then jumped up and wrapped both of her gloves around the behemoth’s neck. Shinra probably hadn’t been foolish enough to place the Airbuster’s central processing unit inside its head, but she had to start somewhere.

Tifa could feel the Airbuster’s outer layer of armor starting to crumple beneath her grip as she tried to choke the non-existent life out of it.

She was starting to feel the hair on her arms standing on end, and knew in her gut that it was time for a temporary retreat.

Tifa let go of the Airbuster and dropped to the ground, rolling away from it just as the machine let loose with a massive electrical discharge.

The moment the machine’s attack ended, Sephiroth launched his own, and Masamune’s blade tore away a chunk of the Airbuster’s armor.

There was another crackle of lighting as both Kadaj and Barret blasted the thing with their own electrical attacks, leaving the machine momentarily staggered.

Tifa’s eyes locked on the small gap Sephiroth had created in the Airbuster’s armor...

She kicked off the ground and leaped at the robot, landing on its skirt and driving an arm into the opening.

When she felt her fist brush up against something, Tifa yanked hard on it and pulled out a bright red wire.

The Airubster’s engines’ kicked into overdrive and it zoomed backwards, causing Tifa to loose her grip and drop to the ground.

“You’ve seen but a fraction of this machine’s true capabilities!” Heidegger’s voice called out from somewhere overhead.

Bright purple light began to course along the Airbuster’s entire chassis, building up towards an aperture in the center of its body.

“Move!” Sephiroth shouted, though his warning was probably meant more for Kadaj than anyone else.

Except that there was nowhere for them to move to; the Airbuster had parked itself at the dead center of the T-intersection, its chest weapon pointed towards the three of them, while Barret was still off to the side.

Well, there was almost nowhere.

Tifa hopped to one of the railings and then jumped skyward with all of the force she could muster.

A moment later the Airbuster’s weapon fired, releasing a beam of magenta energy two feet across that gouged a hole in the side of the reactor.

Thankfully, it had completely abated by the time Tifa landed. Risking a glance behind her, she saw that Sephiroth and Kadaj had flipped over the sides of the safety railings, and were now climbing back up.

“Keep pouring it on!” Barret encouraged as he swapped ammo clips.

The Airbuster spread its arms wide… and then both of its limbs were launched free from its body by clusters of rocket boosters.

One of the arms promptly circled around and headed straight for Avalanche’s leader.

Barret fired off a combination of bullets and lighting bolts, but it still wasn’t enough to stop one of the Airbuster’s fists from closing tight around him.

Tifa didn’t think twice; now that the Airbuster’s main body no longer had arms to fight with, it was easier than ever for her to climb its body. From there, a quick jump allowed her to land on top of the limb holding Barret.

Tifa secured her precarious position with one hand, and tried to pry its fingers apart with her other.

She was strong, but not strong enough to overcome the Airbuster’s grip.

“Need some help?” Kadaj offered as he landed on top of the flying arm a few moments after Tifa.

“Yes.” She admitted.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sephiroth avoiding the energy rays fired off by the other hand while continuing to slice away at the Airbuster’s body.

“Try not to flinch okay?” Kadaj advised Barret, then drove his sword in between the Airbuster’s fingers.

He shoved on the blade and Tifa joined him a moment later. Working together with Souba for leverage, the two of them managed to pry the fist open; dropping Barret down onto the walkway below.

That done, Kadaj began to slice away at the arm’s engines while Tifa hammered away at its individual digits.

As the arm’s engines began to falter and die, the errant limb veered back toward the Airbuster.

At the same time energy began to gather low on the Airbuster's trunk, accompanied by a bright crimson light.

“I’ve had enough of this.” Sephiroth declared.

He charged the machine, with Tifa and Kadaj a few steps behind.

Tifa unleashed a storm of blows upon the Airbuster's central focusing lens, pouring on strike after strike until the reinforced glass fractured, then shattered.

Kadaj leapt into the air to dance across the Airbuster's collar and shoulders, Souba's blades slicing parallel gouges into its face

Sephiroth plunged Masamune straight into the Airbuster's center mass, then ripped it down and away, steel parting like flesh in the path of the draw cut's inhuman force.

Whatever weapon it had been charging detonated… while it was still inside the machine.

The Airbuster exploded.

The massive concussive force tossed her up into the air and hurled her across the length of the room. The heat from the blast didn’t scorch her bald, but it felt like she’d just gotten the worst sunburn ever, and all across her body….

It was promptly followed by an entirely different kind of pain as she slammed back-first into the reactor's superstructure.

Time seemed to slow down for an instant as Tifa realized what that meant and risked a glance downward, to behold a yawning void; she was about to plummet all the way down to Lower Midgar.

So after everything she’d been through, she was still going to die be falling. If she could draw a full breath, Tifa would have laughed at the absurdity.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, as if she was sinking through syrup.

As she fell she spotted a pipe just right size for a handhold, and she grabbed it.

Time seemed to speed back up again, now that she’d arrested her own downward momentum.

That was when she realized… there hadn’t been any handholds for Sephiroth.

That black and silver object that she’d been vaguely aware out of the corner of her eye, was General Sephiroth getting further and further away from her.

He’d always seemed so calm and in control throughout the entire Airbuster fight- hell, the entire mission- but gravity might be the one foe even he couldn’t defeat.

She wanted to feel sorry for him, but right now she had her own problems to worry about...

/This AGAIN?\ Tifa groaned as her fingers clenched ever tighter around the pipe.

/Well, nice try Planet, but Tifa Lockhart isn’t the same damsel in distress she was last time...\ She reassured herself.

Tifa was strong enough to pull herself up, she knew it, she wasn’t going to fall….

There was a sound of creaking metal as the pipe she was hanging from began to bend and deform.

/OH COME ON!\

It seemed that the more she tightened her grip, the more unsteady the thing she was gripping grew.

Urgent as it was, this was not her most immediate problem.

“SEPHIROTH!” Kadaj screamed, thrusting out a hand helplessly towards his older brother; his voice loud enough to hurt Tifa’s ears.

Her ears weren’t the only part of her that he was endangering, though; bolts of lighting ripped free from Kadaj’s body and lashed away at the reactor, one of them nearly zapping Tifa into a muscle spasm she could ill afford.

“Kadaj! Not. Helping!” Tifa screamed right back at him.

There was a faint sound of sniffling as Kadaj struggled to fight back more tears, but the electrical discharges abated.

“You’re right. That… that wasn’t helping anyone. Heroes help people….” Kadaj spoke slowly, unsteadily, as if he was trying to make himself believe his own words.

His worries for Sephiroth aside, Kadaj was in a better position than Tifa. He’d managed to grab hold of a section of the walkway, and even after the blast it didn’t seem to have any trouble supporting his weight.

“What can I do to help?” “What can I do to help?” The enthusiasm in Kadaj's voice sounded brittle, a thin shell over desperation.

Tifa looked back at the pipe, she gave it another thirty seconds at most before her weight tore it loose from the reactor and she took the exact same plunge Sephiroth had.

“Think you can catch me?” She asked, regretting that this was this was the best idea she could come up with.

Kadaj glanced at the catwalk he was holding onto, then locked eyes with Tifa.

“I’d have to hold onto myself with only one hand, but I can do it!” He promised.

Tifa took a deep breath.

She curled her body, bracing legs against the reactor wall, and then just as the pipe tore free,
launched herself towards Kadaj.

Tifa could feel the wind brushing against her bare skin, the pull of gravity seeking to once more yank her downwards into its pitiless embrace.

There were about a hundred different ways that this could end up killing them both.

She tried not to think about those things, she tried to only think about Kadaj’s right hand that was reaching out towards her.

It didn’t work: if she missed him, if the shock of having to support two people with only one arm proved too great, if the catwalk itself couldn’t handle their combined weight….

A black gloved hand seized her tightly by the wrist.

Kadaj didn’t try to maintain his position, he instinctively rode out the transfer of momentum, and swung Tifa up towards the catwalk he was clinging to. She grabbed hold of it with her free hand and desperately pulled herself upwards onto something approaching solid ground.

The moment she was across the threshold, she yanked on Kadaj’s arm so hard he practically flew over the railing.

“Thanks for catching me.” She gasped, struggling to avoid a fit of hyperventilation.

“Thanks for pulling me up.” Kadaj answered.

“All on board for the getting the hell out of here express...” Barret called out as he yanked Tifa to her feet.

Her legs still shook slightly, but once she actually made an effort they easily bore up under her weight.

/Seriously, what are the odds that I’d find myself hanging on for dear life three times?\ Tifa Lockhart couldn’t help but think to herself.

XXX XXX XXX

/Seriously, what are the odds I’d come here to tend the flowers and find someone had crashed through the roof a second time?\ Aerith Gainsborough couldn’t help but think to herself.

End Chapter.

AN: So to start with, remember how I said Nibelheim happened a little differently which resulted a different version of Tifa Lockhart? Well Nibelheim happened a little differently and so it resulted in a different version of Tifa Lockhart.

A “breaching round” is a specially designed shotgun slug made for damaging doors and forcing them open. Given that in the remake Barret has a long reload high powered single shot attack (Overcharge) it’s not unreasonable that he has options for firing such a round from his arm.

It hurts my suspension of disbelief slightly that in the remake our heroes are within touching distance of the Airbuster, yet decide to leave it alone after noting that they’d have trouble against it in a straight up fight. Why not just have Cloud hack away at it with his sword while its deactivated until its just a pile of scrap? That’s why in this version Avalanche are never in the same room as it is until they have to fight it.

The term Sephiroth uses to address Heidegger: “REMF” is military slang for personnel who are never on the front-line; it stands for Rear Echelon… well you can probably guess the rest.

The exact meaning of a “brevet” promotion varies from army to army, but the general (pun not intended) rule of thumb is that they’re given out as a reward for you doing something praiseworthy during a war, but aren’t actually a true promotion. In the US army, (or at least the early US army, since brevetting went away in 1922 and various medals started to be given out instead) for example; brevet promotions aren’t supposed to last any longer than the conflict that they are earned in does.

Basically, the most obvious explanation of his rank would be that Sephiroth was so amazing at killing people during the war that he was brevetted all the way up to General. Then when the war ended, President Shinra realized that it would be a bad publicity, especially among Shinra’s SOLDIERs and those who aspired to become SOLDIERs, for him to “demote” Sephiroth back to his original rank. Thus, he simply let the brevet rank stand far longer than it should have, because why be a tyrant if you’re not going to ignore the rules the moment they become they inconvenience you?

Likewise the phrase “noncom” means “Non-commissioned officer” it refers to someone whose rank is no higher than Sergeant at best. Heidegger is using it to insult Sephiroth because he (Sephiroth) never attended the Shinra equivalent of West Point.

If you were interested; my editor was quick to point out that voltage is not actually a measurement of current. So we decided to look into how electrically resistant garments are actually rated….

It turns out they’re either rated in highly technical terms that would only mean something to a person who actually does a lot of electrical work… or they’re rated in voltage.

If you’re super interested, half a million volts is the standard amount of resistance desired you’re working with live wires; given that in the remake elite shock troops have “pulse shot” a magical attack that seems to be chiefly electrical in nature, their suits might actually be rated to protect above a million volts, but it’s not like that guy had any pressing reason to tell Kadaj the exact truth anyway.

Tifa’s father is never directly named in any of the games/movies/etc, but his original concept art labeled him as “Brian Lockhart” so that is what I’m using in this story.

President Shinra’s monologue about who he is happens to simply be a slightly altered and much abridged version of another literary speech. Kudos to anyone who can guess where it came from...

Finally, yes, Heidegger’s “Shinra didn’t want the war to end” argument is entirely my own invention, but I feel it’s a fairly reasonable one. How else do you explain the Wutain War lasting for eight years as an actual war given the disparity of the forces involved, unless for some reason Shinra wasn’t fully committed to winning?

As for why they might not want to win, well that’s obvious enough, fighting a war with Wutai makes a convenient way to excuse how terrible life is the vast majority of people in Midgar, basically the exact same reasons that they want to restart the war in the FF7 remake.

After all, they supposedly started the war over wanting to build a mako reactor in Wutai, but six years after the war ended, there’s still no reactor. It’s like they were more interested in having a reason to go to war than actually building that reactor…

Chapter 9: Buddy's real talent was beating people up, his heart wasn't in it but the crowd ate it up.

Ah… pain. It’d been a long time since Sephiroth had experienced the sensation. He didn't care for it.

Things that Sephiroth didn’t care for didn’t last long, especially not things within his own body.

Broken bones knitted, blood that had been internally pooling went back to internally flowing, bruises faded, and scraped skin sewed itself back together.

Having resolved all the simple problems created by his fall, it was time to deal with the more complicated ones….

“Woah... never seen that before.”

Sephiroth opened his eyes.

Honey-brown hair, long. Green eyes, non-luminous. A preponderance of pink. Tilting his neck downwards revealed a pair of hideous boots.

“You… again?” Sephiroth couldn’t help but wonder how improbable it was that he’d wind up meeting this woman a second time.

“Well it looks like whatever else that fall did to you, you’re not suffering from amnesia…. Or really any other injuries I can see...” The woman sounded… uneasy. Understandable; people who'd been forced to witness his regenerative abilities often found them alarming.

“Where am I?”

“An old church in the Sector Five slums. You came crashing through the roof without so much as a ‘look out below.’ Fell right into my flower bed. Lucky for you. Like, really.” The florist answered.

Sephiroth looked up as he rose to his feet; he could see a noticeable gap in the ceiling above him, confirming his recollection of slamming into a roof. A glance at his feet confirmed that he had, indeed, landed in the middle of a patch of flowers.

"I've intruded in your life a second time and ruined your garden; I'm sorry." It was a wholly inadequate apology, but the best he could do.

The woman tilted her head up towards the ceiling and then back down to him.

“You don’t need to apologize. I doubt you planned to crash through my roof. Besides, they're a lot tougher than they look. This place... It has a kind of power. I’m Aerith Gainsborough by the way.”

If she was waiting for Sephiroth to introduce himself she’d be waiting a very long time.

Before the awkward conversation could continue any further, the church's doors slammed open.

“I’ll see myself in, thanks...” A profoundly cocky voice declared.

Sephiroth turned his glare on a familiar red haired man in a rumpled blue suit. He was sure that Shinra had suffered a fair amount of turnover since he’d left their service, but somehow he’d known that Reno wouldn’t be among them. Sephiroth suspected that the Turk had even probably managed to snag a few pay raises or possibly promotions since they’d last met; he had a devious mind, when he actually bothered to use it.

“Uhh… Sis... who is this guy?” Reno’s turquoise eyes abruptly went wide the moment he got a good look at Sephiroth.

“He’s my bodyguard... and a SOLDIER. Pretty cool huh?” Aerith taunted Reno with the impish tones of a child sitting on top of an impossibly high wall with a huge pile of rocks next to them.

Sephiroth wasn’t the least bit surprised that she’d been able to recognize him as a SOLDIER given the mako glow in his eyes. He was mildly surprised to learn that he was now her bodyguard… but if it meant interfering with Shinra’s plans he’d play along.

“I believe you!” Reno insisted at once, his head bobbing up and down like a bouncing ball. “Gotta say, he makes a guy feel a little inadequate; big guy like that, with those bright green eyes...”

There were three troopers accompanying Reno, one of them in a red outfit indicating higher rank. All of them were carrying rifles, and one of lower ranked troopers began to slowly and uncertainly raise their weapon.

Reno heard the telltale “click” of a disengaging safety and promptly delivered a spin kick that knocked his own subordinate into one of the church’s pews, sending their gun clattering to the floor.

“Whoops, sorry about that!” Reno grinned nervously. “I just get these weird twitches sometimes, probably because it’s nearly noon and yet I’m still sober. You know what a harmless drunk I am!”

Sephiroth would be more inclined to believe that if he hadn’t read the reports of Reno once taking on an entire bar full of arms smugglers singlehanded. He would have been even more impressed if Reno had known they were arms smugglers before he started the brawl.

Then the Turk walked slowly and deliberately over to the other Shinra trooper and slapped him on the back.

“Now then, what you gotta understand is, what’s-his-face here is having lady trouble. I told him that I could hook him up with the: one, singular, only, uno, person in Midgar who sells flowers that aren’t made out of plastic, guaranteed to set a gentle lady’s heart aflutter.

“Then ‘like-I-care’ over there and ‘you-with-the-head’ bet me that I was full of it, so I had to bring them along to prove that wasn’t the case and collect my winnings! Funny story, right?” Reno explained, the smile on his lips never reaching his eyes.

“So, with that in mind, there’s: no, zero, zip, zilch, nadda, bupkis, squadoo, reason for me to be getting into any sorta fight with your new bodyguard! We’re just here to buy some flowers!” Reno was clearly trying to substitute enthusiasm for credibility.

“That’s good, because I’d hate to think you came intending to do something that could have ended up hurting my flowers.”

There was an edge to her voice that Sephiroth hadn’t expected.

“You’ve got me all wrong, the last thing I want is for any flowers to get hurt! I’m a huge fan of horticulture, ask anybody! Now then, why don’t you make like a gentleman and ask the nice flower lady how much it will cost you to buy some of her wares?” The Turk suggested leaning more heavily on the guard.

As he did so, Reno also casually manipulated his baton in order to knock the trooper’s rifle out of his hands.

“Idiot didn’t even realize that you can’t carry a flower while holding a gun at the same time! I tried to tell him he shouldn’t even bring it, everybody knows this neighborhood is a wonderful safe place where nobody ends up getting gruesomely murdered! It sure has got a lovely reputation for that!”

The now disarmed man began to slowly approach Aerith with all the enthusiasm of a convict heading to the gallows.

“How… how...much?” He stammered out, evidently able to feel Sephiroth’s eyes boring into his back.

“Well as my new bodyguard could attest, I charge people based on how much it seems like they need my flowers. For you maybe… 5,000 gil?” Aerith pondered, her tone carrying just enough innocence for plausible deniability.

“I haven’t got that much on me!” The guard half protested half whimpered.

In the blink of an eye Reno was at the man’s side, leaning against him menacingly.

”Which is the other reason why I made sure to come along! See, I knew that you, being an ordinary flower lady who is far nicer than this city deserves, wouldn’t have a scanner to make use of a Shinra charge card.

But, as a member of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department, I’m authorized to sign Shinra Vouchers with our department seal on them; nobody is gonna tell you those aren’t worth the amount printed on them. If somebody does, we’ll make sure to pay them a visit! So, I believe you said it would cost five….”

“I’m running a special, two for fifteen thousand.”

“What a bargain!” Reno agreed at once; withdrawing a collection of vouchers from his suit, and filling one out so fast it was a wonder the ink had time to dry.

He ripped it out of the book presented it to Aerith, who handed over a blossom to the guard then gently attached a white starry flower to Reno’s suit.

“I think that flower does wonders for your outfit. You see, Reno, you look a lot better when you’re actually making an effort.”

“Make, an, effort! I will not be forgetting that wise advice any time soon!”

Then Reno turned around and dragged the flower holding guard along with his right hand.

He also gently slid his baton into its holster so that his left hand was free to drag the still unconscious guard along with him as well. No one made any effort to retrieve either of the assault rifles that Reno had knocked to the floor as the Shinra employees beat a hasty retreat.

It was only once Reno ever so gently eased the door closed behind him, that Aerith let out a giggle of delight.

“Wow, I’d forgotten how great it was to have a guy I could depend on. Do you charge by the hour?”

“...What...?” Was the most cogent reply he could muster.

Aerith chuckled to herself, seemingly just as amused by his consternation as she had been by Reno’s none too well concealed horror and subsequent begging for his life.

“Look, l can tell that you used to be a SOLDIER. Since you’ve obviously left Shinra, that probably means you’re a mercenary now, right? That or you run a weapons store, and are doing some really aggressive advertising.” She explained, taking a moment to playfully display the 15,000 gil voucher she’d just obtained.

Sephiroth was tempted to tell her that he wasn’t a mercenary, he was a terrorist; the acts of violence he committed were motivated solely by ideology, not something as banal as a payment. Alas, persuasive as it might be, the full, unvarnished truth would likely be more trouble than it was worth.

He decided that to try a different approach.

“You do realize that if I really only cared about money I could just yank that voucher right out of your hands?”

She did not pull the voucher back or otherwise try to prevent him from seizing it. No, instead she all but waved the thing in his face.

“You probably could do that. My last boyfriend was a SOLDIER and he could pick me up with one hand like it was nothing. If you really wanted to steal from me though, why would you warn me beforehand?”

“This isn’t about me or what I’m going to do next. This is about you. Why are you so important that Shinra would send a Turk after you? From the overly casual tone he took, and you didn’t rebuke, it sounded like you’ve even talked before.” Sephiroth tried to steer the conversation onto a more productive topic.

As he did so, his mind rapidly ran through various different scenarios, looking for one that could put the events he’d just seen into some kind of reasonable context. Was she the daughter or younger sister of a Turk? The lovechild of some Shinra executive?

“Dunno. You heard Reno, I’m just an ordinary local florist.” Aerith insisted, sounding scarcely more believable than the red haired Turk had.

He’d also insinuated that Aerith was the only florist in all of Midgar, if this woman was truly “ordinary” then Sephiroth would eat Masamune.

He needed to find a way to link back up with Avalanche, but at the same time… Shinra was committing a lot of resources into trying to lean on this woman. Why?

It was at moments like these when he realized just how right Barret had been. He should never have let himself get caught up in his Quest and allow the rest of the Planet go about its business without him. If he hadn’t spent the last five years in the Lifestream his knowledge of Shinra’s plans would be a far more up to date.

Missions had to come first, and when you were General Sephiroth, there was always another mission.

“Hey, don’t Turks keep an eye out for potential SOLDIERs and stuff? Maybe he thought I could be the greatest SOLDIER yet, the one to finally surpass General Sephiroth himself!” Aerith suggested eagerly.

Oh. Now she was just winding him up on purpose!

Even worse, for some absurd reason it was working!

“You realize I am General Sephiroth?”

“I felt it would be rude to assume.”

“Moving on... adult SOLDIER candidates tend to be recruited from either already-serving Shinra military personnel or highly conditioned professional athletes, not florists.”

“Well, there goes my hopes and dreams of one day jumping from roof top to rooftop with a handsome man cradled in my arms.” Aerith pouted.

“Being a SOLDIER isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It used to make me feel like I was making the Planet a better place, but now...”

“Now it doesn’t, but that’s why you stopped being one. Because you want to make a difference.” Aerith pointed out, gently resting a hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder.

Or more accurately, trying to rest a hand on Sephiroth’s shoulder; he flinched away before her bare hand could touch his black coat.

Sephiroth said nothing, but shot her a sullen, disapproving look.

“If you still want to make a difference, you could walk me home. You’ll probably get to scare the pants off of another Turk before we get there.”

“I suppose I might as well.”

“That’s great! Of course I’m going to have to try and find some way to reward my silver knight for his service. Since you weren’t interested in money, maybe I could take you out on a date?”

Sephiroth looked at her.

He continued to look at her.

Sephiroth had to get back in touch of Avalanche, he had to destroy six other mako reactors, he had to see to it that several Shinra executives were properly punished for their crimes and the entire organization was humbled; a date was out of the question.

“Wow, you are nothing like the last guy to fall through my church’s ceiling. Got it, no dates, message received loud and clear.” Aerith apologized.

Sephiroth thought she might be making some sort of a joke at his expense but with this ineffable woman who could be sure?

XXX XXX XXX

“Good afternoon Rude!” Aerith cheerfully waved up at the bald dark skinned man in the immaculate blue suit and black sunglasses.

She was fairly certain that given Rude’s position, he was waiting more or less exactly where she would have emerged if she’d tried to sneak out the back of the Church. So it was a good thing that she'd decided on just leaving through the front door side by side with new bodyguard; she’d tried to suggest arm in arm, but just gotten another extended silent stare, punctuated by a raised eyebrow.

Rude took a long look at Aerith and her companion.

He adjusted his sunglasses.

Rude took another long look at Aerith and her companion.

Rude silently returned her wave.

XXX XXX XXX

Reno knew that this was not a situation that called for undue amounts of panic as he dialed a number on his cell phone.

“Tseng.” Was the only response he got once the connection was established.

“Hibbity jibbity, odalalee, mugwump, ho, ha, heurrrhhhh….. GENERAL SEPHHHIRRRROTHHHHH!” Reno screamed into the phone.

This was however, a situation that called for displaying the correct amount of panic. Reno felt like he’d nailed it, personally.

“Reno, how much have you been drinking today?”

“Forget what I’ve been drinking, the Ancient extraction mission is scotched!”

“Because?” Tseng’s tone was so leading even the most senile judge in the world would have protested it.

“I already told you Boss, because of General Sephiroth! I walked in there, and I barely walked out again with my life! Supposedly he’s her new bodyguard! I think he might be mildly peeved about the entire ‘left for dead’ thing Shinra did to him!” Reno rolled his eyes, glad that the call was voice only.

“Reno, did you just roll your eyes at me?”

There were times when Reno regretted having a superior who was so amazing at his job.

“Yes.” He admitted in the sullen pouty tones of a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“So, you expect me to believe that General Sephiroth showed up out of nowhere and decided to protect that girl? Did he show any signs of realizing how important she is?”

“Some good news there, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t. If he had, then I’d probably need to be reporting my status via rhythmically blinking my eyelids after he broke every bone in my body. That’s assuming he didn’t just flat out kill me.

The bad news is that I’m going to need you to okay an expense report of 15,000 gil for flower purchases.”

“Why are you planning to charge the company fifteen thousand gil for a flower?” Reno could “hear” Tseng’s brow furrowing over the phone.

“First off, it was two flowers! Secondly, think of it less as me buying blossoms, and more like I was bribing the guards at a security checkpoint not shoot me in the face repeatedly. Except it was less shoot me in the face, and more cut me up into enough pieces that each Sector could get their own chunk.” Reno insisted, placing a hand over his heart and close to the flower he was still wearing.

“So you walked in, discovered you were face to face with General Sephiroth, that she’d flipped him, you used purchasing flowers as a cover story, she didn’t believe it, and you got charged you through the nose.” Tseng concluded.

There was a reason why Reno did not try to bullshit his boss.

“Got it in one. Listen, this means one of two things. Either, I’m the first one to spot General Sephiroth and that means I deserve a huge bonus for discovering a possible major threat to Shinra, or I’m not the first one. If I’m not the first one, why the hell weren’t any of us briefed about the fact that Midgar has a… a…. a… General Sephiroth wandering around loose?!” Reno blustered; unable to find a metaphor that conveyed just how big a threat he was dealing with, so resorted to tautologies.

“Reno, was the girl still in her normal location?”

“I thought that was already implied, but yes. The Sector Five Church, same as usual.” Reno answered without hesitation, wondering what Tseng was contemplating this time.

“The Sector Five Reactor was blown to pieces by Avalanche only a few hours before you spotted Sephiroth in the same Sector. Shinra even broadcast video of the terrorists doing the deed… except it looked like it had been edited by dozen different people first. It was all at odd angels, almost like it was trying to keep anyone who watched it from seeing something.”

“You don’t think...”

“Public Safety.” Reno would never ceased to be amazed by how Tseng could make those two words sound like he surely must have added “Those Motherf**kers” under his breath.

“They don’t share their intel with us, I walk into a gigantic silver ambush, look like an idiot, and we end up getting our budget cut again!” Reno spat.

“Exactly.”

“What’s our counter move?” Reno could feel his blood starting to boil; unlike at the church this was a fight they could win.

“I’m going to lean on a few of the people in that department who owe me favors. Find out what they know, and when they knew it.”

Reno suddenly felt a brief twinge of something that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Boss… are we bad people?” He wondered, his tone far more introspective than normal.

“We’re Turks.”

“I understand. I mean, I know we’re bad people, but are we bad people? Like, General Sephiroth is walking around with Shinra’s Ancient, we’ve got no clear plan on how to get her back, and our first priority is dealing with internal power plays. A part of me can’t help but wonder if maybe our we’re doing something wrong...” Reno admitted, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment at breaking departmental policy by using the “W” word.

“Even secure phones are no place to discuss this matter. Circle up with Rude and get back to HQ. Also, excellent job staying alive.” Tseng added before hanging up.

Reno felt an awkward swell of pride in his breast as he realized that yes, he had done an excellent job of staying alive! It might not sound like much, but Wutai had entire army full of people, or to be more exact they used to have an entire army full of people who hadn’t managed to achieve the same result after getting on General Sephiroth’s bad side!

XXX XXX XX

The trip back to Aerith’s home from the church was one she’d made a great many times before. It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, but it was blessedly free of Turks, garbage fires, and additional stoic men dropping from the sky.

There were some monsters that needed to be frightened off by a few whacks from her retractable staff, there were a few things that needed to be climbed, and thus inevitably a few things that needed to be jumped down from.

She’d made the same jump every day she went to the church. Sephiroth had made it with an air of complete and utter tedium; now it was Aerith’s turn.

As she prepared for it, her concentration was shattered by the screeching of a bird. She turned in the sound’s direction, and found a pigeon flying straight at her. Flailing her arms, Aerith managed to ward off the avian missile, but lost her balance in the process.

She tripped over the side of the building and started plummeting towards the ground.

Her eyes’ locked on Sephiroth’s. She didn’t have time to speak but her lips began to frame the word “please” as the ground rose up at her with dreadful speed.

She landed softly in his outstretched arms.

“My hero!” She declared, beaming up at him.

Sephiroth just tilted his head to the side in silent confusion at first.

“Are you hurt?” He eventually asked, his voice strangely uncertain.

“I’m fine.” She reassured him.

He slowly and carefully, placed her on the ground, then abruptly broke contact to withdraw back five paces.

“Why did you call me a hero?”

“You caught me.” Aerith replied, now starting to feel quite a bit confused herself.

“I don’t like seeing people get hurt. It was easy to catch you. There’s nothing heroic about doing the bare minimum.”

Then Sephiroth stopped and began to shake his right hand, the one he’d used to brace her head while catching her. It was a small thing… but it was more of a reaction than he’d shown after falling into her church.

“Is your hand okay?”

“...”

Aerith sighed and slowly reached back into the pink bow that she used to bind her hair.

“If it helps, the only reason I can think of for it to be feeling weird is this...” She explained while pulling out the materia that she kept hidden there.

Sephiroth’s eyes widened with the first real genuine shock she’d seen him display. He looked helplessly torn, as if he was both intrigued and yet at the same time repulsed by the sight of her materia.

“Is it unique?” Sephiroth sounded almost reverent.

“It is! It’s a special materia that was a gift from my mother. I just wish I knew what it did.” reluctantly added, her exuberance wavering.

Aerith didn’t know all that much about materia, but she knew that their standard colors were: green, red, blue, purple, and yellow. Her mother’s materia though, glowed with white energy.

White energy that seemed to leave Sephiroth on pins and needles until she returned the materia to its normal resting place.

XXX XXX XXX

“So... what's your favorite flower?” Aerith asked him out of nowhere as the two of them were making their way through the streets of Sector Five.

“Dionaea muscipula.”

He’d read some botany books just to pass the time once.

As it turned out, his answer evidently effected her enough that she felt the need to turn around and face him.

“Most people go with roses, or daisies, but I probably should have seen that coming.”

Sephiroth could see what she was thinking. She was probably ruminating on how he’d selected that particular “flower” because of its violent nature.

“Venus flytraps are hardy, they’re survivors; they’ve got a different approach to life than most other flowers, but they know how to make it work. Besides, they’re kinda cute in a way; they’re friends with the bugs that pollinate them.” Aerith noted serenely.

He could have argued that since the spreading of pollen was necessary to insure the growth of more flowers, it meant that flytraps not feasting on the insects which spread theirs’ was simply a trait aimed at ensuring the propagation of the species. It had nothing to do with a concept as anthropomorphic as “friendship”.

He could have, but he didn’t.

He had more important things to do; Sephiroth kept trying to properly calibrate his expectations relating to this woman, and for some reason he kept failing. Why was he having so much trouble discerning her patterns?

“Sorry I didn’t have any on me when we first met, they’re not exactly a big seller. Even florists have to try and follow market trends.” Aerith reflected turning back around.

Sephiroth didn’t see why; as the sole source of flowers in Midgar she had a monopoly to rival Shinra’s, even if it was on a less vital commodity.

“So I notice you don’t have the flower I sold you anymore. Give it to someone?” Aerith abruptly pressed.

“Just my younger brother; he’s far more of a romantic than I am.” Sephiroth was glad that he could easily parry that particular verbal thrust.

“My house is just up this path. Mom should be home by now, I’ll introduce you.” Aerith noted, turning her eyes towards the buildings they were approaching.

Just when he thought he’d finally gotten to solid ground; he heard the distinctive “click” of a landmine beneath hits boots; this woman was truly relentless.

“Say that again?” Sephiroth meekly requested.

“My house is just up this path. Mom should be home by now, I’ll introduce you.” She repeated with the same blithe tone.

“….” Sephiroth was silent “loudly” enough that Aerith noticed.

“You aren’t interested in money or going on a date, but you should at least let her make you some food for keeping me safe.”

Sephiroth wanted to protest that he wasn’t especially interested in food either, but his traitorous stomach had other ideas. He’d left for the reactor raid late at night, and it was now probably around four in the afternoon the next day. In short, it’d been over eighteen hours since he’d last eaten. Sustenance was probably the one form of payment he couldn’t bring himself to refuse at the moment.

Once he got a good look at Aerith’s home he wasn’t sure if he should be pleased or angry with himself… because it looked exactly like he would have expected it to.

Not in the minor things like having tall slanted triangular windows, or the rooftop patio, but it was by far the cleanest, most well cared for house in the slums. Even more tellingly, there were several trays of flowers set up in front of it and the walkway leading up to it was overgrown with all manner of brightly colored flora.

In short, the sight of her house reconfirmed Sephiroth’s suspicions that there was nothing out of the ordinary about the church he’d fallen into; but there was quite a lot out of the ordinary about the woman who grew flowers there.

Sephiroth ended up nearly colliding with Aerith as both of them went for the door-handle at the same time.

“I’m your bodyguard, shouldn’t I go first?” He pointed out.

“Right now, you’re just my guest.” Aerith countered and Sephiroth stepped back, conceding the point

Sephiroth’s predictions about what he’d find inside the house were more or less on the money, a well kept scene of domestic tranquility; it was like he could predict everything about Aerith, except for how she’d behave,

“I’m home...” She cheerfully called out after closing the door behind him.

“Hey baby. Been up to no good? I got a polite call from Rude earlier today. Even politer than usual in fact...” Answered a woman who was bent over a sink.

She turned to face the two and might have said more if she wasn’t struck silent by the sight of her daughter’s bodyguard/guest.

For his part Sephiroth did a quick and simple analysis of the woman who was clearly Aerith’s mother. Hair a slightly lighter shade of brown than Aerith’s, unremarkable green dress and white apron. She had the careworn features of someone who’d been born and spent their entire lives in Lower Midgar.

Sensing the building tension in the room, Aerith did her best to break it.

“So... this is Elmyra Gainsborough. Mom, this my new bodyguard, Sephiroth.” Aerith awkwardly made introductions.

“I’m really just a concerned third party.” Sephiroth tried to protest, every bit as awkwardly.

Was there a look of… something… that passed between mother and daughter in the wake of his introduction, or were Sephiroth’s already heightened senses so on edge that he was now fooling himself into seeing things that didn’t actually exist?

“Didn’t you die five years ago?” Elmyra raised the obvious question.

Sephiroth shrugged.

“Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.”

“Take good care of her?” Elmyra asked brusquely while actually advancing towards him, seemingly falling back on routine in the face of an impossibility.

Just the sight of Sephiroth had sent a Turk who murdered people for a living running for his life, yet this ordinary middle aged woman was advancing on him.

It actually made him less perplexed in the grand scheme of things, since now he understood where Aerith got it from. If Shinra had given him a battalion of Gainsboroughs he could have conquered Wutai in a weekend.

"You'd have to ask her.” Sephiroth suggested, his tone standoffish but not impolite.

Not only was it the best way to immediately remove himself from the conversation, but hopefully if he heard Aerith describe what he’d accomplished in her own words, it might provide him with the Rosetta Stone he needed finally to make sense of her.

“He did a great job Mom. He’s also going to be heading back to Sector Seven soon. But since he was kind enough to help keep me safe I figured we could at least give him something to eat first. Then I’ll show him the way back.”

“I can get around Lower Midgar by myself just fine.” Sephiroth couldn’t help but interject, worried about placing more burdens on Aerith’s shoulders.

“Even with the trains all shut down because of the reactor attack? I sell flowers across the entire city so I know all sorts of ways to get around.” Aerith countered, just the tiniest touch of pride in her voice.

“You just aren’t going to accept ‘no’ for answer are you?” Sephiroth guessed, having at least detected this particular pattern in Aerith’s behavior.

“Nope!” She giggled, quite pleased with herself.

“Why not wait until tomorrow? If you head out now it’ll be dark when you get back. Better to rest up here, and make the trip first thing in the morning; when you’ll have daylight to spare.” Elmyra cut in, even going so far as to gently place her arms on Aerith’s own.

Sephiroth had never been quite so grateful for the fierceness of middle aged matrons.

Except... that sort of arm on arm restraint like… was that a thing family members normally did? Regrettably he didn’t have any familial experiences of his own to compare it against.

Aerith simply waited and said nothing until her mother let go of her and then began to fish around in her dress.

“By the way Mom, I hope you can find a good use for this...” Aerith offered as she handed over the Shinra voucher that Reno had signed for her.

Elmyra spent a very long ten seconds just starring at it, especially at the “15,000” that had hastily scrawled on it.

“Aerith, how did you get this?!”

“Sephiroth helped me sell some flowers. I think he could have a bright future as a florist if he learned to stop scowling at the customers.” Aerith explained with that serene smile Sephiroth was starting to suspect always indicated that she was actually hiding something.

Elmyra cast a very suspicious look in Sephiroth’s direction.

“I hope selling flowers is all the two of you did together...”

Aerith just smiled and giggled in response.

“Don’t worry, you’d like this one Mom. I offered him a date, and he just looked at me like I’d slapped him in the face with a fish.”

That was a completely inaccurate description of Sephiroth’s reaction, but he wasn’t going to waste time debating it.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go get cleaned up, then I’ll help cook dinner since we’re gonna need enough for three people tonight.” She promised before heading upstairs.

“My daughter, she’s something of a handful isn’t she?” Elmyra admitted once said daughter was out of earshot.

“I’ve been in fights to the death that were less exhausting than spending time in her company.” Sephiroth admitted, glad to have a chance to finally say it out loud.

Elmyra was kind enough to turn her head to the side so that she wasn’t looking directly at Sephiroth when she snickered.

Then all of a sudden her expression hardened.

“I hate to ask, but would you leave tonight? Without any fuss… no questions?”

“Done.”

“Thank you. I'm sorry to ask it, but nothing is more important to me than Aerith's safety... You boys made a choice; traded a normal life for power. You can’t have it both ways.” Elmyra added, her tone firm, but not unkind.

A choice.

“No," Sephiroth hissed. "You can't."

The words left his mouth accompanied by a trail of white mist, and tiny tendrils of hoarfrost began to spread across the petals of a several nearby flowers.

Sephiroth was a SOLDIER; he would always be a SOLDIER, but he had never been given a choice on the exchange that so concerned Elmyra. How much of a difference that actually made, was a question he didn't enjoy meditating on.

Elmyra drew back and a hand towards her mouth in shock, either at Sephiroth’s tone or the way the temperature was starting to edge downwards.

“I’m back!” Aerith called out as she descended the stairs.

Sephiroth got his magic back under control and Elmyra turned her attention on her daughter instead of her bodyguard/guest.

Even though the two were doing their best to pretend nothing had happened, Sephiroth could see in Aerith’s eyes that she knew something unpleasant had taken place while she was a way… but she chose not to comment on it.

XXX XXX XXX

The meal Aerith and her mother made for him was fine.

The bed they provided was horrible.

Sephiroth tossed and turned, trying to find some way to get comfortable. It was like lying on a marshmallow, every moment he let his mind wander it told him that he was going to sink right to the floor.

Eventually he simply grabbed the pillow, stood up, then laid back down on the floor.

The floorboards felt firm, familiar, and comforting beneath his back. Now, Sephiroth might actually be able to grab a two hour catnap before he snuck out so that Aerith didn’t get any more tangled up in his life.

He still wanted to know why exactly Shinra was so interested in her, but working with Avalanche to disable more mako reactors had to come first. That went double given that Aerith had insisted on being so cagey with him.

Granted, he’d also been a long way from forthcoming with her, but he was General Sephiroth; his entire life story was one massive collection of horrible secrets; what could this local florist be so worried about hiding? All Sephiroth knew for sure was that he refused to spend the entire night pondering the mysterious woman.

XXX XXX XXX

“Reno?” Rude asked his partner as he entered into the General Affairs Auditing Department’s meeting room.

Reno, as per usual, was making himself at home on the couch, his attention focused on the room’s television. Strangely he seemed to be watching old Shinra company files instead of a sporting event, cartoon, or pirate broadcast of a satirical news show whose host Reno had mysteriously failed to assassinate at least half a dozen times.

“So, your body's changing, believe me, I know how that feels...” Announced a recorded General Sephiroth who was standing in the middle of a blank white void… that must have been digitally created and thus required MORE work than just having him stand in front of a brick wall.

Reno peeled his eyes away from the screen and greeted Rude with his traditional slightly too wide smile.

“Rude, good to see you! Speaking of seeing people, you saw him too, right?” Reno gestured vaguely at the man on the screen.

“Yes.”

“Great, well then, the good news is that I’m not crazy, the bad news is that we’re all going to die.” He practically giggled with manic intensity.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Reno nodded.

“Oh yeah! I started going over Shinra’s archives looking to see if Sephiroth had any sort of weaknesses we could exploit, like some sort of war wound that never healed. No dice there… but I did find all the Public Service Announcements Shinra made him do after the Wutain War!” As he spoke Reno tapped a button on his remote and started the video playing again.

“Puberty can be an interesting time in a young man's life, you may discover hair in places you didn't have it before, new sensations, new desires, the ability to suddenly cast spells without the aid of Materia....” Recited Sephiroth, his voice even more dry and emotionless than normal.

“Can you believe somebody convinced him to do this? I’d say Shinra must have kidnapped his family, but he’s Sephiroth, he doesn’t have a family.”

“Why are you still watching them?”

Reno took a swig from a glass of a clear liquid that was completely colorless and odorless, so there was a 25% chance it was water, and 75% chance it was vodka.

“They’re amazing. I can’t believe that Shinra let a little thing like him vanishing off the face of the Planet convince them to stop running them.”

“Puberty can be an interesting time in a young girl's life... what? What? That's it. I'm done. Get Scarlet in here if this matters so much, let her do it!” A recorded Sephiroth protested.

“Who thought that one was a good idea?” Rude wondered.

“Professor Hojo, he claims that girls who watched it were four times more likely to show signs of puberty than girls who didn’t within the same age bracket. I think he was just pulling numbers out of his ass, I mean… he’s not THAT pretty. Asshole still makes it unfair for the rest of us though...

“Many of you may be considering a career in the wonderful world of science.

Don't.

Don't even think about it.

Not unless you desire to spend the rest of your lives slaving away under the thumb of a crazy maniac who will steal all your best ideas just like how he stole his current position away from Professor Gast; who was a far superior scientist in every way possible, BECAUSE HE ACTUALLY BOTHERED TO WRITE LAB REPORTS!”

“Crazy.”

“The bloopers get crazier.”

“Bloopers?”

“Yeah, this made the final cut. The Shinra marketing department showed this to children, and for some reason we’re considered the real monsters? Life isn’t fair.”

“Okay, what’s actually in the bloopers?” Rude couldn’t help but ask, once again being drawn into one of his partner’s latest bout of eccentricity.

“The bloopers are just him curled up in a corner crying while asking Professor Gast why he had to leave him, then when he realizes it’s still recording he sets the camera on fire. I actually felt a little bad watching them.” Reno sighed, momentarily despondent.

“Anyway, thanks to watching these things, I've come up with a brilliant plan. I'm going to download all of them onto my phone, and the next time I encounter Sephiroth I'll play one of them, and die of embarrassment!” He bounced right back to exuberant.

"You'll... die of embarrassment?" Rude tried to parse his partner’s somewhat imprecise language.

"Well, technically, I'll die of his embarrassment, but what a parting shot! Because he will murder me within five seconds of pressing play, but the rest of Avalanche can never un-see it."

Rude had no comeback.

“Hello, I'm General Sephiroth. Here to talk to you about one of the most valuable traits a student or SOLDIER can have. Patience. Sometimes, patience is the key to victory. Sometimes, it leads to very little, and it seems like it's not worth it, and you wonder why you waited so long for something so disappointing... How many more of these?”

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth awoke from his slumber two hours after he drifted off, exactly as he’d intended to. He stood up, took one moment to stretch and then turned his attention to the room’s window.

One twist of a latch to unlock it, a gentle push to open it, and then he just needed to make sure Masamune didn’t brush up against anything as he crawled out.

Bracing his legs against the one story drop that was waiting for him on the other side was barely even worthy of note.

Sephiroth had snuck into Wutain ninja camps without alerting their sentries; he wasn’t going to be caught by a florist!

“You’re up bright and early.” Aerith greeted him, lazily leaning against rock wall outside of her home.

The Planet’s Greatest Tactical Genius: 0.

Local Florist: 1.

End Chapter.

AN: Just to be clear, yes Dionaea Muscipula is the fancy scientific classification term for Venus Flytrap.

Chapter 10: And there's more to this brave adventure, than you'd ever believe...

Sephiroth was struck mute, he could only repeatedly gesture at Aerith’s current location, then her second floor bedroom. Even if she’d heard Sephiroth sneaking out, there was no way she could have gotten from her room to her current location faster than he had!

Aerith lifted a hand to her cheek, but it would have taken more than that to keep Sephiroth from noticing she was giggling.

“You’re adorable.” She cooed.

Sephiroth was not adorable.

“Your mother would not approve of this at all.” He couldn’t help but point out.

She took a few steps forward and started to reach out for his hands, then abruptly pulled her arm back.

It seemed that she’d learned more about him than he had about her in their time together.

She settled back on her heels with an enigmatic smile.

"Wouldn't be the first time. Haven't you ever-"

She stopped, lips pressed together, then covered her change in direction with a sunny grin.

"It just wouldn't feel right for me to stay safe in bed while you're out here risking your life!"

“Midgar isn’t that dangerous to me.”

“Then you don’t have to worry if I tag along!”

So, what exactly were Sephiroth’s options at the moment?

Yes he could easily outrun her, but that might only result in Aerith spending the entire night wandering the streets looking for him. To use an appropriately botanical metaphor, where this florist was concerned; it was better to be the reed that that swayed with the storm than the oak that fell.

“All right, lead the way.” Sephiroth acquiesced.

“With pleasure.” Aerith strolled away from her house, humming some sort of jaunty tune.

How was it possible for someone who wasn’t a SOLDIER to have this much energy?

XXX XXX XXX

Some people said that Midgar was the city that never slept; perhaps that was so, but it was certainly a different creature by night. The harsh glare of the sunlamps dimmed to a soft glow, the pounding cacophony of urban humanity faded behind the steady rumble of industrial machinery... if nothing else, Midgar by night was far gentler to Sephiroth's senses than its livelier counterpart.

“It almost feels like this part of Midgar is cursed...” Aerith mused, her tone sounding dreamy and distant.

Sephiroth did another quick scan of everything in front of him for any signs of threat then risked a glance backward; they’d switched places shortly after leaving Sector Five.

“What makes you say that?”

“Back when they were still building Midgar, there was an accident and the Plate fell. People had only just started moving in, so there weren’t many living there at the time, but...”

“But even ‘weren’t many’ was still ‘too many’ in that situation.”

Sephiroth could just barely catch Aerith nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.

He turned his gaze upwards, and noticed that instead of only motionless sun lamps there was actual non-artificial light shining down from above in a few places.

He could detect noticeable gaps in the Plate above them; surely such extensive damage couldn’t have been caused by last night’s bombing, no matter what Shinra had done to exacerbate Avalanche’s sabotage.

Aerith took up position beside him and pointed to those same gaps that he was already focused on.

“That’s why they say this place is cursed. One accident was bad enough, but about two months back, something happened here… no one is quite sure what, though.

Shinra says it was the Turks fighting a monster that was going to destroy Midgar. Whatever happened, it caused still more damage to Sector Six’s Plate.”

Sephiroth found that explanation a mite hard to swallow.

Whatever had happened, it was yet more proof that the Plate system was a myopic choice on Shinra’s part. The only reason it existed was so that the rich could live their entire lives without having to look at, let alone think about the less fortunate.

There simply wasn’t any logical reason that the city of Midgar couldn’t have been expanded horizontally; which left him with only the ‘illogical’ reason that the Plate system had been designed expressly for the purpose of making those who had to live underneath it suffer.

“I’m sorry I had to bring you here. If you want to go home...” Sephiroth offered her another chance to turn back.

“No, you’ve got to find the silver lining in every cloud. This place has suffered a lot, but its also the only place in Lower Midgar where you can see the sky.” Aerith reflected as she tilted her neck still further upwards, as if she could take in the entire sky through a few small gaps in the Plate.

“Mind your footing.” Sephiroth warned her as he continued moving forward.

“It’s funny, I’m still a little scared of the sky… but only during the day. At night, it is just so beautiful.” Sephiroth picked up the sound of her footsteps following his own.

He risked another quick glance upwards; minimal cloud cover, starlight, crescent moon. Good balance between navigation and concealment needs, but there was nothing particularly beautiful about it.

A few moments later, he crested a hill and looked out at a walled area that surely would have qualified as a town utno itself anywhere other than Midgar.

“Wall Market...”

There was no place in Lower Midgar he was more familiar with, due to how many times he’d had to retrieve SOLDIERs who were overstaying their leave here.

“Would you be interested in getting to back to Sector Seven without going through it?”

“Yes.”

“Good; I know a shortcut! One that tragically doesn’t go through Wall Market.” Aerith promised with a smug smile.

Sephiroth noticed a miniscule twitch in her arm before the limb went completely still.

A few moments later she opted for crooking a finger at him instead.

This woman may not have the sense to be intimidated by him... but Sephiroth had to admit there was something novel and refreshing about having his personal space respected out of consideration, rather than fear.

“I take it said secret passageway involves this run down tunnel?”

“It sure does.”

“When was the last time you used it?”

“When I was a kid….”

This could only end well.

XXX XXX XXX

“Oh great, someone’s pulled up the ladder,” Aerith groaned.

It seemed that uncooperative architecture, of all things, was the weak point in Aerith's otherwise unshakably sanguine disposition.

It didn’t last long of course, her green eyes soon fixated on a nearby gigantic mechanical arm.

“I wonder if we can...” She began.

Sephiroth walked over, effortlessly leapt twenty feet into the air, landed by the raised ladder, and sent it sliding down to Aerith with a firm kick.

“Or we could do that.” She admitted before starting to climb.

Once she’d finished, Aerith faced Sephiroth and raised both of her arms into the air as if she was surrendering.

He tilted his head to the side to indicate his confusion.

“Hm? All right, good enough, let’s keep on trucking.” She pressed on further into the tunnel, leaving yet another minor mystery in her wake.

XXX XXX XXX

“I think it’s a dead end...” Aerith pointed out as directly in front of them was a huge shipping container, with an even huger piles of debris having built up to either side of it.

Sephiroth was willing to agree that there didn’t seem to be an obvious way around the container for his companion, which simply meant it was time to make a way through it.

He let loose with a precise blast of ice magic, freezing one section of the container, then slammed his shoulder into it.

Ice shattered inward and he repeated the process on the far wall, leaving a man-sized hole punched through the former obstruction

"Well, I feel better about getting the cold shoulder knowing it's not just me…" Aerith chuckled then did that strange thing with her hands again.

Since it had worked last time he tilted his head to the side, but refrained from further action.

Once again after about five seconds she abandoned whatever bizarre ritual she was trying to get him to take part in.

Instead, she turned her eyes towards another ladder that someone had seen fit to yank up so that it couldn’t be climbed.

“Aww no, look. Why is it always gotta be so tough? Lucky for me you’ll make this easier.” Aerith predicted.

She was right. Sephiroth approached the ladder, jumped to the platform above it and kicked it down for her.

XXX XXX XXX

They had to be nearly out of these tunnels, Sephiroth was sure of it. He pushed open a large door and
his eyes instantly focused on a dull, flickering glow on an otherwise bare patch of ground.

It was the smoldering remains of a small pile of branches.

He raced over to it to see if he could learn anything from closer observation.

“This fire was started recently, whomever made it is nearby...”

“You can tell that just by looking at a pile of burning sticks?”

“That, and the sound of their footsteps.”

"The what?"

A moment later three men burst into the room.

“Lookie here boys, caught us some burglars.” One of them chortled.

Sephiroth just stared in perplexion.

Either Shinra or the various black market chemists in Wall Market must be turning out some impressively powerful narcotics these days. He certainly couldn’t think of any other reason why this trio didn’t take single good look at him, then run screaming for the hills.

“Coming into our homes and stealing our shit, doin’ crimes!” The most lanky of the three announced in what he probably thought was a menacing tone.

“I’d say we’re owed ‘compensatory damages’!” Sneered the first man who was probably the trio’s leader.

“Yeah! Complementary, uh composite, uh, I don’t get it...” Mumbled the squat third member.

“How stupid can you be? It’s crazy simple! Compensatory damages is like uh….” The leader began.

“Compensatory damages are a sum of money awarded in a civil action by a court to indemnify a person for the particular loss, detriment, or injury suffered as a result of the unlawful conduct of another.

They provide a plaintiff with the monetary amount necessary to replace what was lost, and nothing more.” Sephiroth explained, since otherwise he’d likely have to stand around all day watching the not especially bright leader explain the matter to his two even more idiotic underlings.“Yeah, what he said!” The leader instantly agreed, at least able to recognize actual intelligence when it stood right in front of him.

“We’re just passing through, what do you want?” Aerith made the commendable, but most likely futile gesture of trying to negotiate with the trio.

“Nothing but our due recompense, that’s all!” The leader chortled.

“Wait… what? Do wreck-em-pants?” The short one abruptly murdered the phrase.

“No shit-for-brains, due recompense, it’s like… uh...” The leader tried and failed to explain.

Realizing that they'd come to a vocabulary related impasse once again, the bandits’ six eyes turned in Sephiroth’s direction. They were in theory about to rob him, but first, they clearly hoped he’d clarify another legal matter.

“Due recompense is...” Sephiroth began.

Then in the blink of an eye he was standing behind the trio.

“Me getting the last sixty seconds of my life back, Blizzaga.”

Before he’d even finished his final word’s third syllable, all three bandits were flash frozen, and dropped softly to the ground a few moments later.

“Did you have to do that?” Aerith asked as she thumbed the switch to make her collapsible staff retract back down to the size of a baton.

Sephiroth wondered why she sounded so upset, until he realized that she’d probably never seen ice magic wielded by someone with his expertise before.

“I didn’t kill them, if that’s what you’re worried about. A snap freeze like that induces something like hibernation; barring any pre-existing conditions, they'll thaw out in a few hours barely the worse for wear. I know it may look harsh, but if you have other suggestions for how I could keep our foes properly restrained, I’m willing to hear them.”

“Have you ever considered using zip ties?” Aerith all-but-instantly countered, skirting uneasily around the statues.

“I had not.”

Then he pondered the matter for another moment.

“Why did you think of using them?” He had not expected a florist to be more well versed in the art of captive restraint than a general.

“TURKs is one of my mom’s favorite shows.”.

“I promise I’ll keep your zip tie suggestion in mind. For now we need to keep moving.”

XXX XXX XXX

It turned out that there was a third ladder that had to be dealt with, but another jump from Sephiroth soon resolved that issue.

Once Aerith managed to climb the ladder he’d lowered, a wide smile filled her face.

“Sephiroth, up top!” She called out, raising a single hand.

Now he finally understood what she wanted from him.

He wasn’t going to give it to her, but he understood.

“You can put your hand down.”

Her smile faltered.

"I thought, maybe if it was on your terms..."

The gesture was simple. Straightforward... but the human body was so fragile... No. Out of the question. If he were to experiment with impact gestures, he certainly wouldn't start with the unenhanced.

“I don’t do…. touch.”

Aerith lowered her arm, her face falling into a wistful echo of her earlier smile.

"I guess not..." she trailed off, then rallied. "So, back in SOLDIER, how did you celebrate with your squadmates when you accomplished something important?”

The woman was indefatigable. Forget needing an entire battalion of Gainsboroughs; give her some SOLDIER treatments and she would have blazed a path to First Class that would have made Genesis turn green with envy.

“I crawled back to my tent and finally got some sleep. Sleep was something we all had a deep and passionate respect for.”

“Really? You didn't even have celebratory feasts together?”

“We were in the middle of a war. Food options were quite limited, and even what the commissary could provide had been cooked by men of dubious skill. Have you ever bitten into sirloin steak and discovered that someone found a way to make it taste like a dog’s tongue?

That said, thank you for reminding me if I ever see that Private again I need to....” Sephiroth began.

Halfway through his reminiscence he noticed the worried look Aerith was giving him.

"Force him to... eat... some of his own cooking," Sephiroth concluded lamely.

That seemed to assuage her concern; she clearly had no idea how much worse a fate that was than any physical retribution.

XXX XXX XXX

The two of them slowly emerged from the tunnel and into the open air once more. This time however there were no nearby gaps in the Plate through which the night sky could be seen.

“We made it...” Aerith panted slightly, the trip understandably having taken more out of her than from Sephiroth.

Strangely enough, at the very edge of Sector Six was some kind of playground.

“Hm. Tawdry as it is now, you could forget that Sector Six was originally planned as the entertainment hub for all of Midgar...”

“Yeah... when the rough types started to take over, Shinra convinced everyone that they could solve everything by building a wall.”

“I remember. They sent Don Corneo an invoice; last I heard, he had it framed and put it up behind his desk.”

A moment later, Aerith clambered up a bizarre cat-bear-frog structure and perched at the top of the slide protruding from its mouth.

“What was it like, being a First Class SOLDIER?” She called down to him.

“Frantic and mind-numbing by turns. Exhausting, on the aggregate.”

Aerith seemed to be quite amused by the fact that she could now look down on Sephiroth while they talked.

“It’s funny, you’re so different from my first boyfriend in every way… well except one.” Aerith reflected wistfully.

“All we have in common is being SOLDIERs?”

She giggled at his question, for some reason.

“No! I mean, I was wrong, there are two ways you’re the same. Yes, you were both First Class SOLDIERs, but there was something else; the gentleness. With him, well it was like he never had a single nasty thought in his entire life.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.”

“With you, it’s like I can see each and every single nasty thought you have, and then how the moment it pops up, you smash it right back down with a huge hammer. He made it seem effortless, but I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who tries as hard to be a good person as you do. That has to count for something...”

Sephiroth silently agreed with her; he spent a lot of time hoping that it counted for something. That said, her description of a First Class soldier who never had a nasty thought in his life, it certainly sounded like Zack...

“Your first boyfriend; what was his name? I think I might have served with him...” If she'd dated Zack, he'd have wanted her to have closure.

She turned away with shocking abruptness.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I mean, I was sixteen, he was seventeen, we were really just teenagers fooling around.” She insisted.

"Hm." On one hand, he was skeptical. On the other, if she was looking to gloss over that chunk of history, he saw little merit in pressing her on the matter; let it stay between her and Probably Zack.

“Part of growing up is outgrowing childish things...” Aerith sighed, before standing up and walking down the slide.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for slowing you down, the gate to Sector Seven should be straight ahead. If we hurry a little I might even be able to make it back home before my mom wakes up.” She suggested, in the warm yet also slightly flippant tone he’d come to expect from her.

Sephiroth turned his eyes towards the gates in question, they were so huge even he probably couldn’t leap them in a single bound. Luckily between his raw strength and the time worn nature of the obstruction in question handholds wouldn’t be hard to come by.

Before he could get started, the gate began to swing open to allow a chocobo-pulled carriage through.

“You know, just once in my life, I wish that I could get a chance to wear a dress as pretty as that.” Aerith sighed dreamily.

His attention drawn by her words, Sephiroth flicked a glance at the carriage's occupant.

Motif: black and hot pink, deliberately contrasted. Dark hair, bright pink headband. Flower, artificial, also vividly pink.

Black yukata, pink lining. Pink lipstick and eyeshadow.

He was about to dismiss the matter with a mental shrug when the figurative wheel finished turning and several details clicked into place. Long dark hair was hardly unique, but it was only the first relevant data point. The fabric was taut at her shoulders, the cut of the garment clearly intended for a slighter frame. Pink eyeshadow on pale skin distracted from the faint glow visible through tinted contacts.

He took a second look. Facial structure, complexion under the cosmetics, physique, even posture, all matched.

Tifa.

"She's lovely, but..." Aerith, not privy to his revelation, was still speaking. "I still feel bad for her. All dressed up, in one of those carriages? Only one place she could be headed..."

You hear stories about Corneo's girls, you know?"

Of course, Aerith hadn’t seen Tifa kill a man with her bare hands, or hold her own against the Airbuster. What chance did a crime boss and his pet thugs have against her?

Still... better safe than sorry, if Avalanche had come up with some kind of plot targeting Don Corneo since he’d lost touch with them, Kadaj should be able to fill him in.

Shinra had been kind enough to install a payphone at the edge of the playground, and the Seventh Heaven's phone number had been listed alongside its address. He didn't have the change necessary to place a call, but that was a surmountable problem.

At the end of the day, phones were just another machine that did whatever the electronic signals going on inside them told them to do. He hadn’t done this in a long time, but in theory, all he had to do was run the right voltage through the right parts of the phone and it would forget all about demanding payment…

“Please stand at least ten feet back, there’s a small chance this phone may explode.” He quickly warned Aerith as he started to summon up sparks of energy between the fingers of his right hand.

She of course decided to do the exact opposite.

Before Sephiroth had a chance to start bending the phone’s electronic brain to his whims, Aerith walked over and slid a coin into the slot.

There was a happy dial tone a few moments later.

“Or we could do that.” He sighed, then dialed.

All he got for his effort was a recorded message from Tifa’s Customer Service Voice announcing that Seventh Heaven was closed for the night and what their hours of operation were.

No Kadaj, no Barret, not even Biggs, Wedge, Jessie or Marlene. What was going on?

“You’re worried about that girl.” It wasn’t a question.

“Her name is Tifa Lockhart, she’s a work acquaintance who I’ve run up a large tab with.”

“Then what are you standing around at a phone waiting for, lets go help her!”

“I was trying to gather information so that I didn’t race into a situation with no idea what was going on.”

“Faint hearts never won fair ladies, we should start thinking less about reconnaissance and more about rescues!”

Sephiroth couldn’t help but notice that he’d never actually asked for Aerith to get involved in this particular matter.

“We’re going to do reconnaissance first...”

“And there’s no better place to do it than here in Sector Six! We should head for Wall Market while the trail is still fresh!” Aerith interrupted him.

Sephiroth would have preferred to have personally inspected Seventh Heaven in case Avalanche had left any notes behind to inform him of their plans, but like so many other times tonight, what he preferred gave way before Gale Storm Gainsborough.

End Chapter

AN: The “Private” that Sephiroth is referring to in his discussion with Aerith is Giles from “This Army Life” by Nicolle on fanfiction.net, a wonderful piece of crack that you should consider looking into in your free time.

Also “yukata” is the best word that I or my editor could find to describe the style of outfit Tifa wears in this section (if you choose “exotic” as the dress style at least) but if anyone has feedback on the matter please let me know and I’ll make a revision.

Chapter 11: Say amen, there he goes again! Sweet and undefeated, and an awesome ten for ten! Folks lined up, just to watch him flex. And this perfect package packed a pair of pretty pecs.

Wall Market was everything wrong with Midgar packed into one small sector, chiefly the belief that if a place was brightly lit, clean, and advertised aggressively then nothing too untoward could be going on.

The search for information on Tifa lead them past a truly impressive array of vices: brothels, black markets, illicit theaters, gambling parlors, strip shows, dive bars, oxygen bars, strip bars, opium dens, leather shops, and a single incongruous pet store.

Unperturbed by the proffered proliferation of prurient pursuits, they followed the main thoroughfare to the ostentatiously gilded facade of Corneo's mansion.

The building itself was actually marginally more tasteful than most of Wall Market; it lacked a gigantic neon sign declaring it “Don Corneo’s Mansion” or more likely, “D-O-N C-O-R-N-E-O-’-S M-A-N-S-I-O-N.”

Surprisingly, there were only three guards outside. Given that Don Corneo had been running Wall Market for over a decade with minimal opposition, overconfidence had clearly set in.

Two of them seemed to be more or less run of the mill street toughs, but their leader had short cut silver hair and amber colored eyes.

Since he didn’t instantly fall to his feet and start asking how he could help; Sephiroth doubted that he was another errant ‘sibling'.

“Not so fast, buddy. Back it up. Got no need for pretty boys here.” He insisted as Sephiroth approached.

“Specially not this one, Leslie, would make the girl’s jealous.” One of the goons snickered.

Yet more proof that his years as the unchallenged ruler of Wall Market had gone to Don Corneo’s head, or at least those of his minions. That, or the reports of his demise had left them with the conclusion that he must be some manner of imposter.

That was the problem with being a big fish in a tiny pond, the larger world inevitably intruded.

It would be impossibly easy for him to deal with these three, literally kick down the doors, and storm in to find Tifa. He’d probably even be able to pull it off without having to kill anyone.

On the other hand, while he’d been wasting his time in the Lifestream, Tifa had spent the last five years preparing for a war against Shinra. If she’d wound up in Don Corneo’s clutches it was probably because she wanted to be there.

Which in turn meant that it’d be better for him to aid her scheme rather than just resorting to the most brutal and straightforward solution possible.

“How ‘bout me, then? Can I go inside?” Aerith eagerly pipped up.

Sephiroth found himself vaguely amused seeing her irrepressible nature aimed at someone else, especially since they had it coming.

“Maybe, but you're gonna wish you didn't.” Leslie promised.

“You know, she’s kinda cute, homely, but cute.” One ruffian reflected.

“Excuse you?” Aerith hissed, putting Sephiroth in mind of an affronted cat.

“Seriously, she’s not half bad! With a little work I bet she’d clean up real nice.” The other agreed.

“Sephiroth... requesting permission to kill.” Aerith snarled, a strangely predatory tone to her words.

“Denied.” Sephiroth was fairly certain that the florist was teasing him in some fashion, but he wasn’t about to risk someone’s life to find out; even if said “someone” was one of Don Corneo’s goons.

“If you're really that determined to present yourself to Don Corneo, then you're gonna need to get official approval. Before you ask, you can only get permission from a member of the ‘Trio’ who Don Corneo puts his personal trust in. First, there's Chocobo Sam, then the Honeybee Inn's Andrea Rhodea and last but not least, Madam M over at the massage parlor. Just know that getting their approval is gonna take more than bright eyes and a pleading smile.”

“Hmm, duly noted. Thanks for the info. We'll be back soon.” Aerith chirped, giving Leslie the best view possible of her bright eyes, and satisfied smile.

XXX XXX XXX

Unsurprisingly, Chocobo Sam proved to be of little help.

When Sephiroth had taken umbrage at him “flipping” them for the chance at Aerith getting his personal approval... and then using a two headed coin... Sam had agreed to clarify the matter still further.

Don Corneo only let each member of the Trio recommend one girl a night, and since Sam had already put forward Tifa there was nothing he could possibly do to help them.

After that failure they’d gone to try and meet with Andrea Rhodea, only to be stonewalled by the Honey Bee Inn’s staff. In the process Sephiroth had seen and smelled things that he could never unsee or unsmell.

Which in turn meant that the two only had one chance left and headed to Madam M’s Massages.

Despite his initial trepidation, Sephiroth found nothing immediately offensive or unsettling upon entering the establishment; a statement he would have considered damning with faint praise, perhaps, but after the Honey Bee Inn...

The establishment was decorated in a broadly Wutain aesthetic, but the mishmash of regional styles left Sephiroth with the impression that the design philosophy hadn't gotten much past 'exotic equals cultured.'

“Welcome, welcome, just the two of you?” The woman who greeted them from behind the counter spoke with impressive nonchalance, as if she’d frequently had visitors even stranger than Aerith and Sephiroth.

The kimono she wore hung low off one shoulder, showing that she'd foregone the majority of the traditional underlayers for the garment.

“Step right up. Now then, what manner of massage do you desire?” The woman crooned out to them.

Her tone was inviting, but Sephiroth wondered how genuine her enthusiasm was.

“You’re Madam M, right?” Aerith eagerly approached the counter getting ready to plead her case yet again.

“That I am. Purveyor of the most marvelous massages in all of Midgar.” She boasted while cooling herself with an elaborate Wutain fan.

“My name is Aerith Gainsborough and I was hoping that maybe you could get me an audition with Don Cor...” Was as far as she got.

The fan snapped shut and was instantly pointed at her throat like a dagger.

“Oh for the love of, say another word and I'll shove this fan right down your throat!”

It was truly impressive how quickly Madam M had abandoned her distinguished mannerisms and untraceable accent for traditional Lower Midgar brusqueness.

“You certainly will not.” Sephiroth's tone was matter-of-fact, if chilly, and Madame M rounded on him with a venomous smile.

“Hmm, you look like a man of some years and refinement, so I’m surprised you didn’t do a better job explaining to this girl what she can expect out of life. This is a massage parlor, a respectable establishment. People give me gil, and I provided them with a service. If they don’t have the coin, I show, them, THE DOOR!”

It seemed the Trio’s final member could have given Kadaj lessons on being mercurial.

Sephiroth was about to warn Aerith that this was hopeless when to his surprise she began to extract a great many gil coins from her dress pockets and place them on Madam M’s desk.

It was hardly a small fortune, not even a minute fortune, but it was more hard currency than Sephiroth would have expected her to have on hand.

“Do you think this would be enough to buy a service from you?” She pleaded with the masseuse.

Madam M’s eyes lit up with delight. “Before we can determine what manner of massage is required I’ll need to do some preliminary investigations. Hand, give it to me!” Just like that, the ethereally untraceable accent returned, despite her blunt word choice.

To Sephiroth’s amazement, even as the masseuse reached to out towards his right hand, Aerith abruptly interposed herself between the two of them, pushing Sephiroth back and out of the masseuse’s reach.

“My bodyguard is very protective of his hands; he’d never be able to get any work done without them. Would you shout at a musician to just whip out their most prized instrument like that? If you want your customers to be able to relax and have a good time, you need to work harder on putting them at ease.”

Sephiroth felt deep pang of appreciation for the mysterious florist; she wasn’t just learning his habits to avoid his ire, she was also making sure other people had to respect his boundaries. The only other person who’d ever done that for him was Zack...

“Since this is very important to both of us, do you think…?” Aerith began to gently edge into the subject.

“I can do it.” Sephiroth sighed, and presented his left hand to Madam M.

She ran her hands across his gloved digits in a way that he found unwelcomely intense.

“Ah yes, just as I expected, the strong firm hand of a fighter. More than just that though, your fingers possess an elegance and grace I have rarely felt the equal of. Most of all though, the tension! The sheer unresolved, unbearable tension! Frankly I couldn’t imagine a man more in need of me or who I would have greater pleasure servicing.” Madam M cooed.

Sephiroth said nothing, he was entirely focused on not yanking his hand away from her.

“Of course, before we can make any real progress we’ll have to get these gloves out of the way.”

Sephiroth could feel his eyes widening with the mixture of shock, surprise, and horror he far more frequently inspired in others.

This woman wanted him to take off his gloves and then do intimate things to his hands?

On top of that, she expected him to pay her for the experience?

“Wait, you’re good with giving massages to women also, right? Because I’ve done a lot of gardening work over the last few years, I’ve probably built up horrible calluses that only someone of your skill could handle!” Aerith abruptly interjected.

She could have jumped on a live artillery shell and not left Sephiroth feeling as indebted to her.

Madam M reluctantly let go of Sephiroth’s hand and began to inspect Aerith’s.

“True, you aren’t quite the delicate flower I first took you for. The money is good either way, I suppose. The only question is exactly what manner of massage are you interested in?”

XXX XXX XXX

In order to try and curry as much favor as possible Aerith had ordered the most expensive massage she’d been able to afford.

Sephiroth just sat quietly in the lobby while Madam M got to work.

Eventually they returned, the Madam looking quite pleased with herself, and Aerith’s green eyes seeming strangely unfocused and glassy.

“Another satisfied customer.” Madam M boasted proudly, and the florist raised no objections. “Are there any other ways I might be of service?”

Sephiroth turned his gaze once more in Aerith’s direction, figuring that she would be best suited to explain this scheme. Alas, at the moment she seemed to be more interested in gazing dazedly at her hands, leaving the task to him.

“Like she tried to tell you before, my companion is interested in being among the women considered for Don Corneo’s newest bride. We’d been told that as a member of his Trio you could make it happen.”

Madam M took another long moment to size up Aerith before commenting.

“She has potential, though I don’t know why she’d want to waste it on that scumbag. That said, I could never allow a candidate I put forward to present herself in such an unremarkable dress.”

“Dress...ssss...sss...” Aerith might have been trying to raise an object but she seemed to promptly get distracted by the “amusing” prospect of slurring the word in question.

“How much money was left over after the massage?” Sephiroth suggested, hoping it would be able to cover the expense.

Madam M first response was a mirthlessly laugh.

“Not enough, not even close. The few thousand gil she has could barely buy a designer handkerchief let alone a dress.

Luckily, I know how you can cover the cost. Wall Market’s famous ‘Don Corneo Cup’ tournament is starting in just under an hour, and the top prize is... considerable. It’d be a crime for it to take place without you showing what you’re capable of. So, I’ll handle your entry fee and the red tape, then when you win, the prize money will cover the costs of turning this Plain Jane into in a drop-dead gorgeous beauty.”

“Are fights to the death?” The entire point of this circuitous scheme was to prevent Sephiroth from having to kill anyone after all.

“It’s not unheard of for competitors to die, but most fight end in surrender.” She reassured him.

The fact that Madam M hadn’t bothered to name exactly how much Aerith’s new dress would cost or how large a prize was awarded to the Don Corneo Cup’s winner made Sephiroth suspect she was going to make quite a tidy profit off of the exchange. He didn’t have time to haggle though, not when he needed to run an important errand before the tournament started.

“Aerith, where did you get that much gil from?” He couldn’t help but ask as he gently took the still-suggestible florist by the hand.

“They’re me and my mom’s savings. I figured we’d need them more than her, since now she’s got that 15,000 gil voucher from you scaring Reno’s pants off...” Aerith answered with even less hesitation than normal.

“Would you mind I borrowed some of it?” Sephiroth felt like he was most certainly taking advantage of Aerith given her current condition, but it was for the greater good.

“How could I say no to my Silver Knight?” Aerith giggled as she all but collapsed against his chest.

Sephiroth hoped she recovered soon.

XXX XXX XXX

“I’ll take these.” Sephiroth declared as he laid the plastic package down in front of the clerk.

The clerk, like most occupants of Wall Market, had long ago learned how to to do their job without even contemplating the possibility of asking questions; he simply took the package and scanned it.

“One pack of 1,000 zip ties. That’ll be 120 gil.”

“I’ve created a monster.” A much recovered Aerith moaned.

Sephiroth dropped the requisite coins on the counter before turning back to his companion.

“This was your idea; why are you upset?” He pointed out, his tone equal parts aggrieved and confused.

Aerith sighed very heavily.

“I was making a joke. I’m actually glad for the amount of restraint you’re showing.” She clarified.

All signs of obvious distress slowly began to drain from her face, so Sephiroth decided she was indeed being serious this time.

“I hate to eavesdrop, but if restraint is what you’re interested there’s a place just down the street that...” The clerk began.

“Thank you, but we’ll be going!” Sephiroth cut him off, grabbing his bag of zip ties, and dragging Aerith out of the store before she had a chance to gainsay him.

XXX XXX XXX

“Why are their video cameras in here? Does Don Corneo really think someone is going to try and sneak in through this long straight tunnel that has exactly zero places to hide?” Aerith scoffed pointing at one of the devices in question.

“Given how much this place loves to advertise, it is probably here to let the audience see who they can expect to be competing ahead of time.” Sephiroth had picked up at least a passing knowledge of event planning from how many times Shinra had trotted him out in front of one crowd or another.

What he hadn’t expected was that the tunnel would be lined with speakers so that they could hear exactly what the crowd milling about in the lobby had to say about his arrival.

“Is that?”

“It might just be a look-alike they hired to boost ticket sails.”

“What is he doing here?”

“Pinch me, I think I’m dreaming.”

“Oh my Planet, I can’t believe we’ve already got tickets for this!”

“I heard Don Corneo was starting to get friendly with Shinra, but friendly enough that they’d do this?”

“I thought Sam’s Champions had it in the bag but...”

“We’re in for a hell of a show tonight...”

“Delete… delete… delete… got to make more room on my PHS so I can record every second… delete….”

Sephiroth really could have done without the voices of at least two dozen different people having three dozen different discussions bouncing around the tunnel with no place to go but into his ears; his only solace was being in an entirely different room they had to keep their distance.

At the end of the tunnel they found an official looking man in a white suit waiting for them.

“Madam M’s champion for the night has arrived.” Sephiroth introduced himself.

“Make that Madam M’s champions for the night.” Aerith abruptly cut in.

A part of Sephiroth wondered why he was even surprised.

“Don’t worry about it, two member teams are the norm anyway. Since you’re running late we won’t waste time asking about minor details details like next of kin. Right now, just give me your names and occupations so I can pass them along to the announcer.” The man gestured toward the elevator behind him whose doors had just opened.

“Everyone already knows who I am.”

“Aerith Gainsborough, local florist.”

XXX XXX XXX

The elevator’s doors closed, and just like that they were alone together once again.

“Since you insist on doing this, I’ll continue trying my best to keep you alive.”

“You worry too much. I'm not some princess that needs to be coddled.” Aerith huffed.

“What can you do to help me in a fight?” He raised the question in the most dispassionate tone possible to show that he wasn’t trying to belittle or insult her.

“I can shoot blasts of magic from my staff.” Aerith noted with a confident smile.

“What?” Sephiroth spluttered, he’d been expecting a lot of possible answers, but that wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah. It’s not about the staff being magic either. I can do it with any staff I hold.” The “ordinary florist” insisted.

There were several things “wrong” about that statement, or at least “in direct conflict with how Sephiroth believed to the world to work”, but now was not the time to bicker over them.

“I can work with that, does your staff or bangles have materia slots?”

“Three in my staff, two linked one solo, and a two linked slots in my bangles. Why do you ask? I don’t think they’re likely to give us time to go on another shopping trip before our matches start.”

Sephiroth unsheathed Masamune and began to gently pry a few stones free from just above its grip, then started to do the same thing with his own gold armlet.

He gently passed her two glowing stones, one green, the other blue.

“Ice, and all.”

Then he repeated the process with another pair of mismatched stones.

“Earth and all.”

Finally a single green orb.

“Restore, this one is used for curative magic in case you do get hurt. You won’t need to link an ‘all’ to it, because I can take care of healing myself.” Sephiroth explained, leaving unsaid that he wasn’t especially likely to get hurt badly enough to need magical healing.

“All five of them are mastered, so you don’t need to worry about forging a proper bond with them to unlock their full potential; I’ve already got them well trained.”

“So... you’ve got a collection of pet rocks?”

"Hm. Let me give you a crash course in materia usage. To start with, do you know what materia allow you to do?”

“They let you cast magical spells that summon various elements?”

Sephiroth gave a short shake of his head. "Not exactly, but that's a common misconception, especially in civilian circles. A lightning materia could stun or electrocute a person, or even induce a magnetic field, but if you tried to charge a capacitor with one, the charge would only last as long as your concentration.

What materia actually do is allow you to rewrite reality, imposing your will on it through things that might look like natural events, but ultimately aren’t. A fire materia doesn't need fuel, and an earth materia can manifest stone out of a steel floor; don’t allow your knowledge of the natural world to get in the way of what your willpower wants to achieve.”

“Wait, is that’s why if you just froze someone in a real block of ice they’d probably either suffocate or die from hypothermia, but when you use magic they survive?” Aerith realized after taking a moment to ponder his words.

“Correct. Since you’re just starting, out consider verbalizing whatever spells you cast." He held up a hand to forestall the inevitable question. "It will warn your opponent what you're casting, yes, but language shapes thought; speaking it aloud makes it easier to ensure the spell actually goes off in the chaos of real combat conditions."

It was strangely gratifying to have his newest ‘cadet’ catching on so quickly.

Aerith looked down at the five glistening gems in the palm of her hand.

“Won’t me having these limit what sort of magic you can do? Maybe you should keep the healing one...”

She'd passed Materia 101 with flying colors. Time for the advanced class.

“Materia are a crystalline form of mako, so each and every single materia represents a tiny fraction of the Lifestream. That means the knowledge and wisdom of those who came before us, the Ancients, is held within every materia. Anyone with this knowledge and sufficient willpower can use the power of the Planet. That interaction between the borrowed knowledge and the Planet, is the basis of... magic… for lack of a more technical term.

If that was a little confusing, don’t worry. All that you really need to understand is that materia are only necessary for people who doesn’t have the knowledge of the Ancients.” As Sephiroth spoke, he made a few more quick gestures and, despite the fact that Aerith was holding his ice materia, summoned up a small flurry of snowflakes.

“And I do.”

“Are you an Ancient?” Aerith gasped.

Sephiroth would have better luck spotting a dove in the middle of a blizzard than he would piercing through the sudden overflow of emotions on Aerith’s face; there were too many for him even name them all, let alone parse their meaning.

“No! No. No, I’m very much not an Ancient. The Ancients gained their knowledge from true communion with the planet. All my knowledge is… stolen.” Sephiroth admitted, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t insist on discussing the mater further, or even worse continue to try convincing him that surely he must be an Ancient.

Luckily, any attempt she might have made at continuing the conversation was was interrupted by the elevator doors opening up.

Aerith quickly inserted Sephiroth’s materias into her staff and bangles, then followed him out into a metal hallway.

“General Sephiroth, over here!” Another of the tournament’s staff called out, gesturing towards a pair of huge doors that were already sliding open.

Aerith’s staff was still extended from the process of adding materia, but Sephiroth had returned his blade to its sheath. He’d always found it... disrespectful to Masamune to keep it drawn without a clear purpose in mind.

The two of them walked into a large open area, and Sephiroth had to admit he was at least mildly impressed, this was no fly-by-night underground fight club; a lot of time and effort had been put into it.

There were already two men standing in the middle of the arena, but judging from their lack of weapons or armor they probably weren’t Sephiroth and Aerith’s opponents.

“Ladies, Gentlemen,”

“In the city that never sleeps!”

“In the paradise of debauchery and sin, of pain and pleasure!”

“Where your every desire can be indulged for the right price, Wall Market!”

“To you esteemed connoisseurs of chaos and bloodshed, we bid you the warmest of welcomes!”

“Are you sitting comfortably?”

“Well you shouldn’t be!”

“That’s right, you might have paid for your entire seat...”

“But for these fights YOU’LL ONLY NEED THE EDGE!”

“You all know that Don Corneo spares no expense to bring the greatest fighters from the world over to his colosseum...”

“But even compared to such hallowed competitors who have come before, this, will, be, spectacular!”

“Because for our next match, in the red corner we have two fighters..”

“One, a complete unknown. The other, still a household name, fresh from a five year long retirement!”

“That’s right, he’s back, just for this one night, in this, one, place!”

"The SOLDIER,”

“To whom there are none bolder!”

“The First Class,”

“Who will kick your ass!”

“The General,”

“Who……. JUST PUT YOUR HANDS YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR SEPH-IR-OTH!"

"And a local florist."

“You know, it’s really irritating how you get all the good patter.”

“Sup with the pole!? Gonna do a little dance for us, baby girl?” One of the spectators called out.

“I was wrong, THAT’S really irritating.” Aerith growled.

“Just remember, they’ll probably reduce our prize money if we intentionally harm the audience.”

“Their opponent, one of Wall Market's own, a renowned master of beasts!”

“Will his pets make a meal of our two challenges before our very eyes?”

“Or will the beasts be beaten like so many foes before?”

“They've already been given their appetizer, but their hunger for flesh and fear is unquenchable, the demon dogs of hell, the Sanguine Stalkers!”

Doors on the other side of the arena slowly swung open.

A man with no weapons or armor came running through them like his life depended on it.

A moment later the cause of his fear became all too obvious when a pair of red and black skinned canines came chasing after him.

“No, please!” The man cried out in horror.

He risked a glance backward to see how close his pursuers were, which promptly proved to be his undoing, as he tripped over a divot left in the floor by one of the previous rounds of combat.

“Feast.” Announced the dogs’ master, a one eyed man with dark skin.

In an instant the dogs were on the fallen man. His screams of terror hurt Sephiroth’s ears, but not as much as the high pitched it whistle that followed them. When the dogs still didn’t let up the piercing whistle sounded again, and Sephiroth found himself reexamining his position on lethal force.

The dogs drew back from the fallen man leaving him with shredded clothing, but no injuries serious enough to prevent him from regaining his feet and once more fleeing for his life.

“You brought animals?” Aerith seemed to be less than impressed with their foe’s choice of companions.

“First timers, huh? There's no rule that says your teammate gotta be human.” The Beastmaster scoffed as he drew forth a wicked looking dagger.

“Who will prevail in this brutal contest between man and beast!? This could be over in an instant, so don't even blink! Without further ado, the match… begins now!” The announcer concluded, and then the section of the floor they were standing on suddenly began to sink downwards, taking them out of the arena.

“I’ll handle him, you just keep his pets busy.” Sephiroth promised, and he was halfway across the arena before Aerith had a chance to respond.

XXX XXX XXX

That was how Aerith Gainsborough, florist, found herself in a fight with a pair of dogs who looked like they’d been kicked out of Shinra’s K9 program for being too bloodthirsty

Of course, since she and Sephiroth had been rushed into the tournament so quickly, no one had bothered to explain some of the finer points on what was and wasn’t legal. The Beastmaster’s use of attack dogs was one example; her innate “magic” was another.

Was it illegal for her to have spent most of the announcers’ opening patter charging up a magical blast?

Since even Sephiroth had been surprised to hear her talk about it, her ability it must be very rare- which probably meant nobody had ever bothered to write down a rule about it.

So Aerith gave her first surprise to the crowd, letting loose with a large orb of white-green light that sailed across the arena and struck one dog squarely in the head, sending it spinning through the air.

Which meant she still had another massive killer canine racing straight at her. Seemed like it was time to do some “real” magic.

Aerith had never used materia before, and was sure that dog would be ripping her to pieces if her first spell missed. Which meant it was time to think more creatively....

“Blizzard!” Rather than attacking the dog, she let loose with a blast of ice magic aiming at the arena’s floor.

In the blink of an eye metal was frozen over with a sheet of frost over an inch thick.

All four of the dog’s legs began to flail about wildly as even its wicked-looking claws weren’t long enough to let it find purchase.

Aerith lazily stepped to the side and the dog went sliding right past her, and kept right on sliding until it slammed into an arena wall.

Before she had time to congratulate herself for quick thinking, she heard the snarl of the first dog again, it seemed that her staff’s magic hadn’t taken it completely out of the fight.

She turned to face the charging dog, wondering if she should stick to ice or try something different.

Whatever choice she made, she’d have to make it fast because….

Then there was a high pitched whistle, and the charging dog abruptly slid itself to a stop and turned around.

Looking over in the whistle’s direction she saw that the Beastmaster was on the floor of the arena, his arms bound together by a zip tie while Sephiroth held the whistle to his lips.

Just like that, the middle section of the arena began to part and a platform rose upwards with the tournaments’ announcers on board.

“We warned you it might be quick folks!”

“But none of us expected just how quick!”

“That match saw the previous Don Corneo Cup record for fastest victory shattered!”

“Nay, obliterated!”

“It probably won’t be the only thing to end up that way tonight either! Don’t worry though, we’ll find somebody who can make Sephiroth actually work for victory...”

“Even if it kills him!”

“For now, just take a moment and show your adoration for General Sephiroth!”

“And a local florist.”

XXX XXX XX

Since there were other people in the tournament than just the two of them, Aerith and Sephiroth were shuffled off to an utterly unremarkable waiting room. There they sat on on creaky folding chairs, waiting for their next match to begin.

“So, is this what ‘normal’ is like for you? Not competing in an underground fighting tournament, but the way people are cheering for you like the greatest thing since sliced bread?” Aerith abruptly asked him once they were seated.

Sephiroth turned his eyes towards the ceiling, but that only bought him a few seconds of reprieve in the end. For some strange reason, he was unable to simply throw up a wall of icy silence and ignore the question.

"Yes." He sighed. “Yes, this exactly what my life used to be like before I left Shinra. Multitudes screaming my name, utterly enraptured by the world's most efficient butcher.”

To her credit, Aerith didn’t ask any followup questions... Which made it all the stranger that he felt a perverse itch at the back of his mind that he could only scratch by voicing another thought.

“It's a small mercy, but thanks to our last-minute enrollment, at least the Silver Elite didn’t have time to buy up all the tickets.”

“Wait, the Silver Elite? I think I’ve heard of them… weren’t they that crazy fan-club that was started when you were like… five?” Aerith interjected, her voice filled with contempt.

“Three!” Sephiroth spat in a mixture of exasperation and derision.

“Just to be clear, I was never a member.”

“I never thought you were.” He assured her.

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth and Aerith had were eventually called back to their next arena for their next match.

“Welcome back ladies and gentlemen, and let us remind you, your eyes do not deceive you!”

“Standing before you is the seemingly unstoppable Silver General who made his return to Midgar with a splash!”

“And a ‘slash’ as well for that matter! Even as we speak the judges are trying to find more precise clocks to measure how fast he can defeat his foes!”

“We’d tell him to slow down and give you a better show, but this isn’t about the show….”

“It’s about THE CARNAGE!”

“Which is exactly what you’re about to see unleashed for your entertainment!”

“Their opponents, reavers of the scrapyard, thieves and killers through and through! Too criminal for common criminals, the worst of the worst!

“Check your pockets, because they may have already robbed you blind!”

“The most contemptible sons of bitches this side of Wall Market, Beck's Badasses!”

The doors at the opposite end of the arena opened and a familiar trio emerged.

Just like that Sephiroth’s spirits lifted; and his feelings of preemptive guilt were banished by schadenfreude.

“Hey it’s those guys.” Aerith giggled.

“Hey boss, it’s that silver haired guy who kicked our asses!” The chubby bandit ‘helpfully’ noted.

“And froze us in gigantic ice cubes.” The other minion chimed in.

“That’s cause he’s nothing but a low down scum suckin’ cheat. He bushwacked us before we could properly ambush him!" Beck shot right back. “So I hope you weren’t thinking that what you did to us is gonna remain a cold case!”

“I thought a cold case was what you called it when you got twenty four bottles right out of the fridge?” The fat bandit interrupted.

“No you idiot, not a cold case of beers, a cold case!”

“What’s the difference?” The lanky one seemed to be every bit as confused as his chubby compatriot.

Before the argument could proceed any further, the doors through which the bandits had entered opened again.

Five more men strolled into the arena, each of them carrying a firearm of some kind.

They didn’t look to be any more combat trained or disciplined than Beck and his two companions, but you didn’t need a lot of training or discipline to shoot a florist.

“And who are these unscrupulous-looking gentlemen?” It seemed the announcers had noticed the ruffian’s reinforcements as well.

“It would seem that there are actually eight members of Beck's Badasses!”

“Eight on two, really? Isn’t this against the rules?” Aerith protested.

“The only rule here is that there are no rules! If Corneo says it's okay, then you gotta suck it up!” Beck taunted her.

There was a playful chime and a screen on the side of the arena now depicted a cartoon caricature of Don Corneo enthusiastically holding up a sign with “OK” on it.

It would seem that Wall Market’s ruler had decided to try and make this match interesting by discovering if a handful of gunmen would be able to mow down an innocent woman before Sephiroth inevitably won. The fights might not be to the death… but somehow Sephiroth doubted any of those firearms were loaded with rubber bullets.

“I’ve got enough zip ties for all of you. Don’t do anything that makes me think twice about using them.” Sephiroth warned the new arrivals, hoping his legend could accomplish a feat even his legendary skills might not quite be up to.

“The odds are overwhelmingly stacked against them!” The announcers gloated.

“This could be a real bloodbath! So I implore you, ladies and gentlemen—don't look away, or you may miss the best part!”

“The second match of the Corneo Cup's semifinals...begins now!” At the word “now” their platform began to sink back into the floor.

XXX XXX XXX

Aerith had heard the sound of gunfire before, just like everyone else who grew up in Lower Midgar. What she hadn’t heard was quite so many rounds being fired off quite so nearby; there was only one event in her life that could possibly be its equal, and she was glad her memories of it were hazy enough to prevent an in-depth comparison...

The five men with guns weren’t her problem though, the three original members of Beck’s Badasses currently advancing on her with various melee weapons were.

“Not so tough without your silver haired boyfriend to do all the fighting are you girle?” The lanky subordinate one cackled.

That was when Aerith realized exactly how she could beat these three without even needing to use Sephiroth’s materia. Why waste all her energy now when she could conserve it for the final round?

“He’s not my boyfriend, in fact I’m not even sure that he feels philia for me, let alone eros.” Aerith answered truthfully, glad that Elmyra had insisted on her having as robust an education as you could get in Lower Midgar.

“I’ll teach you to say we’re in eros!” The short member barked back as he advanced with his cutlas.

“Not in ‘error’ you idiot, in eros! It means flowery romantic love.” Their leader scoffed.

“I’m pretty sure that’s ludus. Eros is love so dramatic and passionate you loose control of yourself.” Aerith correct.

“That can’t be right, because Eros is the same as Cupid...” Beck grumbled, now obviously more interested in the argument than perforating Aerith’s flesh.

“You mean the little kid with the wings and the bow and arrow?” The lanky one chimed in.

“That’s right. When Midgar conquered Kalm we stole all their gods and gave them new names; except for Apollo, we just call kept calling him Apollo. So why would they depict the god of dramatic passionate love as a baby?”

“Because modern society chooses to whitewash and infantilize the acts of a god who intentionally caused mischief and suffering by making people fall in love against their will.” A baritone voice answered.

“Thanks.” Beck accepted the new information with a polite glance back towards the one who had supplied it.

He returned his attention to Aerith and managed to keep it there for a few moments before the proverbial gil coin dropped.

Beck took another look back confirming what he’d seen the first time.

The other five members of Becks Badasses were all currently laying on the ground their hands bound by zip ties, and an irritated General Sephiroth was standing directly behind him.

“Charlie horse!” Beck groaned before collapsing to the ground and flailing his limbs around pathetically.

“Richard goat!”

“Harry cow!”

His two teammates joined him on the ground of their own volition with equally enthusiastic shows of “pain” and inability to continue fighting.

XXX XXX XXX

With another victory under their belts Sephiroth and Aerith headed back to waiting room until the final match began. This time though they discovered that it was already occupied.

“No, I’m not mad at you guys; you did the best you could.” Insisted a familiar looking man as he spoke to a pair of large red and black skinned dogs.

As the sound of a door opening drew his attention, Aerith abruptly noticed something different about him that she couldn’t let pass in silence.

“Didn’t you used to have only one eye?” She couldn’t help but wonder aloud.

“No, I used to be wearing an eyepatch; I leave it up to the audience to decide how many eyes I have.” The Beastmaster noted, perhaps a touch smugly.

Then he slowly brought his eyes up to meet Sephiroth’s own.

“By the way… I wasn’t gonna be so crass as to ask in the ring but can I get an autograph? My kids aren’t gonna believe their daddy was lucky enough to get his ass kicked by Sephiroth himself.”

The Beastmaster certainly had an interesting definition of “lucky”.

When he produced a piece of pen and paper from the pockets of his outfit, Sephiroth reluctantly scrawled his name on it just to to avoid being pestered further.

“Didn’t these two… almost kill somebody?” While Sephiroth didn’t worry about the animals in question, Aerith had made a point to keep her distance.

The Beastmaster chuckled, pulling the whistle he’d used in the arena out and spun it around for emphasis.

“You’ve got more to fear from your average alley mongrel than these two. They’re trained to go for restraint holds so that I can put my dagger to somebody’s throat and force them to surrender. Anyway, Kyle is a bit more than just ‘somebody’, he’s been my hype-man for close to a year now. Didn’t have a pretty enough face to be in pictures, but he sure can sell fear and terror to an audience can’t he?” The Beastmaster chuckled.

Suspicion warred with outrage on Aerith’s face.

“Wait, how much of this is even real?”

“The fights are real as can be; but people don’t just come for the fights, they come to see a show, so that’s what we give ‘em. Heat fills seats, y'know?”

XXX XXX XXX

Once more Sephiroth and Aerith were summoned to the arena.

Once more Don Corneo’s heralds were there to further inflame the crowd’s enthusiasm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our time together is almost over!”

“Tonight's thrilling Corneo Cup, filled with unprecedented upsets and drama, has only one match to go!”

There were cries of disappointment and derision from all sides.

“We know, it’s simply heartbreaking to think that this must be the end of the road. But ladies and gentlemen, all good things must come to an end! So let's celebrate by getting so damn loud, they'll hear us up on the Plate!

“Once more, in the red corner, we have that powerhouse pair who we can always depend on to bring the thrills...”

“Not to mention icy chills!”

“To our arena! He’s big, he’s wearing black, and tonight he’s BACK, SEPHIROTH!”

“SEPHIROTH I LOVE YOU, MARRY ME!” One of his countless interchangeable "fans" screeched.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes, wishing he hadn’t already heard that more times than even he could count.

“Wow… I’m sorry.”

"... Thank you. It does get old."

"And competing alongside him, the only woman who could match his magical might; when she's not planting flowers she's planting her foes... SIX, FEET, UNDER!”

“Give it up for, A, LO-CAL, FLOR-IST!”

“I told them what my name was; if we win the tournament, will they finally start using it?” Aerith grumbled.

“That’s right, they quashed their opposition in the quarter finals, they smashed them in the semis, but do they truly have what it takes to go all the way? Because in the blue corner, they’re going up against the five-time winners of the Corneo Cup! Murder machines with countless kills to their names!

“Along with a handful of maimings.”

“The deadly duo that takes out the trash, with a vengeance!”

“The electric executioners... Chocobo Sam's champions... Cutty and Sweepy!”

“Come on out!”

The doors on the other end of the arena opened, and a pair of heavily modified Shinra “urban pacification” robots emerged.

“Guess they couldn’t find anyone human who’d dare face us.” Aerith chuckled as she sized up the two massive machines, each twice Sephiroth’s height.

Sephiroth wished he could have shared her enthusiasm. Robots had a lot of vulnerabilities, but there was no way he’d be able to intimidate them into taking it easy on Aerith. This was going to come down to raw strength and skill.

“Just make sure to keep your wits about you.”

The obvious strategy was to get up close to the machine with built in canons while keeping his distance from the one possessing a pair of whirling buzzsaw arms, but they might have hidden secondary weapons designed for exactly that situation.

“Who will walk away with the one million gil prize!? Get ready for a fight guaranteed to go down in history!”

“The final match of the Corneo Cup...begins now!”

The announcers sank into the floor and the battle began.

Rockets built into the robots’ feet fired and they slid across the ground toward Sephiroth and Aerith with the deceptive ‘unmoving’ speed of flowing lava.

A spinning blade larger than Sephiroth's torso plunged towards him, but the blow never landed. He circled around the descending arm and severed it at the elbow with a single upward stroke of Masamune, leaving him well out of reach of the sidesweep from the truncated limb.

A living creature would likely have succumbed to shock at that point, but the modified sweeper simply turned and thrust its other saw-tipped limb at him. A textbook downward chop severed that limb, as well, with a slight flick of Masamune sending the still-spinning sawblade skittering away across the ground.

At which point Cutty zoomed backwards, while its grill began to glow ominously red.

Deprived of its two main weapons, the machine let loose with a continuous blast of flame from the very center of its body.

Sephiroth didn’t bother to dodge; instead, he countered with a howling cascade of ice borne on freezing winds.

The two opposing elements collided in a billowing cloud of steam and fog. Whatever mechanical process fueled Cutty’s flames ran out well before Sephiroth’s magic did; while its flames guttered and died, Sephiroth’s mystical blizzard continued, sweeping over the robot and bringing it to a hoarfrosted halt.

A single slash later, two chunks of frozen metal dropped to the floor. Sephiroth couldn’t intimidate machines, but he had no reservations about destroying them.

That was when he heard the sound of cannons firing. As Sephiroth spun around he reminded himself that it was a promising sound, Sweepy wouldn’t be shooting if Aerith was already dead. She’d already held out this long, so she could do it another five seconds.

He felt a ghost of a grin tug at his mouth when he registered exactly what the machine was unloading on: Sweepy's ammunition hoppers were fruitlessly emptying into a rock wall that had to be least a foot thick. The arena may have lacked any useful cover against gunfire, but that hadn't stopped Aerith from making her own.

To his surprise Aerith wasn’t looking at the robot currently shooting at her, or at least at the rock wall between her and said robot. Instead, she caught his gaze long enough to wink at him before slamming her staff into the ground. "Quakara!"

Impossibly tiny ripples that Sephiroth could “feel” more than see raced out from where her staff had struck. They crossed the distance between her and the robot, at which point a gigantic stalagmite erupted from the floor impaling Sweepy with enough force to lift it clear off the ground.

The murderous machine’s weapons abruptly fell silent as it produced a massive shower of sparks and smoke.

Then it exploded.

“And with that marvelous bit of magic our former champions are cast down from their throne! Taking their place as the undisputed masters of mayhem are our brand new twin titans of the tussle, SEPHIROTH AND AERITH!”

Sephiroth wondered if he should congratulate the florist on having gotten her wish.

XXX XXX XXX

The pair had been told to return to the waiting room and that their sponsor would come to see them once she was done collecting their winnings.

Sephiroth was just glad to have been able to get through the tournament without killing anyone. While he was taking a moment to quietly bask in their victory, Aerith was babbling happily. Clearly the florist was flush with the post victory euphoria he’d seen many first time combatants experience.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news. But...you two still have one fight left.” Announced Madam M as she entered the waiting room.

“What.”

Sephiroth had taken the inclusion of trained beasts, additional fighters, and killer robots in stride. This, however was cheating so blatant that even he found it objectionable.

“But we already won!” Unsurprisingly, Aerith shared his dim view of the ruling.

“Oh yes, you won. You won, and you won, and you won. Do you know the best way for the house to make money on betting?” Madam M abruptly inquired.

“Take a percentage of all bets?” Sephiroth guessed.

"Fudge the numbers and charge a processing fee so a winning bet doesn't pay out any more than it puts up?" Aerith added helpfully.

“Close, but not quite. This is the best way for the house to make money.” Madam M countered as she handed over a betting slip to Sephiroth.

It was a 100 gil bet that Sephiroth and Aerith would defeat Cutty and Sweepy. Its payout was 101 gil.

Sephiroth looked at the ticket and then back at Madam M, not sure what she was getting at.

“So where’s the profit?”

“People need to turn their tickets in to get their winnings. Given how many bets were placed on you before the final match, there should have been a flood of people turning in winning tickets. Instead, there was only a trickle. It seems many of our gamblers have decided that they’d be happier keeping their tickets, and letting the house keep their wager.”

“That’s, that’s...” Aerith began to work herself up into a fine fury at the idea that people might bet, win, and yet still leave with lighter pockets.

“That’s their choice. It’s not our fault if people prefer a 100 gil souvenir that proves they saw Sephiroth fight over 101 gil of the house’s money. Wall Market is built on the principle that a good transaction leaves everyone happy.

So, as you might be able to guess, that greedy scum-sucking piece of shit festering asshole who runs the tournament has decided to extend it an extra round!” Madam M began to stomp her feet and briefly looked tempted to hurl her fan clear across the room.

“So, in return for fighting an additional round we’ll be getting?” Sephiroth pressed, tapping a foot on the floor in irritation.

“A favor from me, something beyond the dress. Corneo makes the rules down here, so the rest of us just have to try and make the best of it.”

Sephiroth sighed heavily; he’d been able to handle everything this tournament had thrown at him so far. How much worse could one more round really be?

XXX XXX XXX

It was a house.

Don Corneo expected Sephiroth and Aerith to fight a house.

General Sephiroth was now expected to fight a living house in front of a cheering crowd of onlookers so that a woman he barely knew would be able to afford a dress... He prided himself on being a fast learner, but the damndest part was that he couldn't figure where he'd gone wrong.

End Chapter.

AN: We were originally going to have Sephiroth and Aerith just enter through the lobby like in the remake, but my editor/co-writer Fenrir reminded me that we’re trying to have everyone act just a little bit smart in this story. So, instead they have a separate entrance for the “talent” to keep them from possibly getting mobbed by fans.

According to Crisis Core the Silver Elite club was started “twenty years” ago, which given when the game takes place means Sephiroth would have been roughly three years at the time. Granted, said club was most likely started by Hojo, so draw your own conclusions. Suffice to say, Sephiroth is probably very thankful that he has superhuman speed, it makes it easier to outrun screaming groupies.

The unredeemed winning tickets with Sephiroth’s name on them are intended to be a reference to similar tickets that resulted from the 1973 Belmont Stakes, where over 5,000 people bet that Secretariat would win, but never actually bothered to cash their winning tickets, instead keeping them as souvenirs/proof of what they’d seen. Which to be fair, was a victory of Sephirothic proportions.

Also, here’s a variation of the Beck and friend’s interaction that my Fenrir felt was a little too reliant upon real world historical figures to work, but I liked enough to include as an omake…

“That was a violation of the Marquees of Queensberry Rules, and he knows it!” The bandit leader further accused Sephiroth.

“Wasn’t he that guy who liked to beat people up in his bedroom?” The fat bandit interrupted.

“No you idiot, that’s was Marques De Sade!”

“Why are so many fancy people named ‘Markus’? It’s a stupid name!”

Oh, also before you go, if you haven’t already please check out Belderiver’s story Wars Waged In Us which you can find here https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984004/chapters/60487456, it makes a lovely unintentional foil to Twilight Perfected, being an Aeriseph story that involves a version of Sephiroth who winds up siding with Avalanche, but for completely different reasons….

Chapter 12: I've got high heel stilettos and I'm kicking in doors and kissing your ass ain't what my lipstick's for...

General Sephiroth had faced and defeated ninjas, samurai, summons, monsters, robots, dragons, public safety personnel, SOLDIERs, and now a house.

He was just glad that Genesis wasn’t around to deliver some pithy quip or worse yet, an ancient prophecy from Loveless. Sephiroth was fairly sure he’d heard the entire piece recited to him enough times to have memorized it, but knowing his luck, there was probably some stanza nested in its apocrypha about the brave hero doing battle with a residential evil.

He could only hope that he was able to accomplish this mission without Aerith telling Tifa about the fight, or at the very least without Tifa telling Kadaj about it; Kadaj's complete ignorance of the event was his only hope for not having to recount it in second-by-second detail.

For the moment, Sephiroth was back in the relative safety of Madame M’s massage parlor while she finished negotiating with a small army of tailors, aesthetiscians, and, for all he knew, caterers.

“Sephiroth… I have an idea.” Aerith announced.

She’d been kind enough to seat herself at the exact opposite side of the parlor’s sole couch so that he could have his personal space. He was thankful for that, but he suspected he would not be for whatever idea had just occurred to her.

“Tifa will be one possible bride for Don Corneo, and I’m going to be the second. He likes to have three girls though, so all this is going to be for nothing if he picks the third girl.”

“…” He could see where this was going, but had no intention of encouraging her.

“So what if you… were that third girl?”

“….” Sephiroth stood firm.

“Come on Sephiroth, did my silver knight really come all this way just to leave me on my own just when things are getting truly dangerous? Besides, you already fought a house, is this really so much to ask?”

“…..” He wasn’t saying a word until she gave up on this absurd notion.

“Your dress has arrived.” Madam M announced as she entered the store.

That news only made Aerith’s smile grow broader.

“So, Madam M, I had this crazy idea that I thought you could help me with...” Having failed to convince Sephiroth, Aerith now turned her attention to the masseuse.

“I think you’re crazy enough already just for wanting to be in a room with Don Corneo.”

“Since you owe me and Sephiroth a favor, do you think that we could possibly get us an extra dress, and maybe a few other things? Do you think we could find something fancy in Sephiroth’s size?”

“No.”

Madame M put her foot down without a moment’s hesitation, and Sephiroth was tempted to announce that the favor she owed him was now paid in full.

“But maybe if we….” Aerith pleaded.

“No! Being part of the Trio means that I know Don Corneo’s tastes, and one of said tastes is that he’s very particular about his bride’s height. He likes to be able to look them in the eye, or failing that the breasts. Even if I did everything I could possibly do, Don Corneo would need a step ladder.”

Aerith snapped her fingers in displeasure.

“Well there goes that plan… but maybe instead we could….”

“Maybe you should join me in the backroom so we can start getting you ready? We still have to take care of fitting, adjustments, makeup…” Madame M cut her off again.

XXX XXX XXX

It was a good dress, all things considered.

Sephiroth wasn’t sure it was worth having to fight a house for, but it was a good dress.

Lots of artfully arranged long frills, and the red color accentuated her green eyes. A plunging neckline was emphasized by a golden necklace and touches of black fabric. Her hair was now tied back by a crimson ribbon with interwoven ruby flowers, with the entire outfit rounded out by a pair of silver heels.

“So, what do you think?”

What did she expect him to say?

“The dress suits you. I can make sure Madame M lets you keep it if you want me to.”

“Thanks, though now that I’m actually wearing it it… I can’t stop thinking about how gaudy and impractical it is.” Aerith admitted.

For some reason he couldn’t quite describe Sephiroth felt a slight upward twitch in his lips.

“You were correct that going in alone leaves you needlessly exposed; I have a solution. I’ll get your original dress, boots and staff from Madame M, then if you need to get my help, just whistle, as loud as you can. Do you know how to whistle?”
“Of course.” Aerith hesitated a moment. "Are you sure you'll hear me from outside the mansion?"

"I'll hear."

XXX XXX XXX

Honestly, Aerith wasn’t all that worried; she felt like a million gil and was wearing a dress that probably really had cost almost that much. She might not have her staff, her bangles, or any materia, but she was pretty sure she could handle anything Don Corneo or his goons threw at her.

XXX XXX XXX

An uncertain amount of time later, Aerith was forced to admit that being being lured into an isolated room and then gassed was not something she could 'handle'.

Indeed, there were very few situations that involved waking up in what could only be described as “a dungeon” which would justify a person cackling with glee over how their plan was going perfectly.

On the other hand, she was waking up, she still had her dress on, and she hadn’t been chained to anything, so Don Corneo probably wasn’t actually aware of her plan… he just had really disgusting ideas about what constituted a good first date.

As Aerith’s head began to feel less like it was stuffed full of cotton and her eyes cleared, she tried to figure out exactly how much trouble she was in.

The first thing she noticed was that she wasn’t the only occupant of the dungeon.

“Hey, can you hear me?” The other woman called out to her.

Even though she was standing only a few feet away from her, Aerith found herself struggling to get a clear image of her dungeonmate. As the fog in her head dissipated, though, details gradually came into focus: brunette, mahogany eyes, black yukata….

“Tifa… Lockhart?” Aerith gasped out awkwardly; her mouth felt like it was full of marbles.

“Uhh… yes? How do you know my name?” Tifa rather reasonably replied.

“I’ve been working with a friend of yours: tall, silver hair, green eyes, no sense of humor….”

“I can guess.” Tifa cut her off before she needed to say anymore, her lips twitching upwards in a slight smile.

“So he’s okay?” Another voice abruptly joined the conversation.

Aerith blinked a few more times and managed to rise to her feet.

Turning her head in the other voice’s direction she beheld a wiry girl with silver hair and green eyes; she might not have been as tall as Sephiroth, but there could be no doubt she was the tallest of three.

She was wearing a sleek black dress with silver accents that seemed to be cut in exactly the right style to compliment her slender figure by suggesting at curves rather than revealing them.

All of those facts fell by the wayside a moment later though when Aerith noticed something else….

The silver haired girl had a yellow flower in her hair.

The exact same yellow flower that she’d given to Sephiroth when they’d first met in Sector One.

“Wait a moment… you’re Sephiroth’s brother!” Aerith gasped in shock.

“Yeah, I’m Kadaj….” He pouted awkwardly a twisting a strand of silver hair in a black opera glove. “What gave it away?”

“I sold him that flower; when I asked him about what he’d done with it, he told me he gave it to his brother.”

Kadaj’s pout melted into an exultant grin as he rejoiced with an energetic elbow pump.

“So you only realized because of stuff completely outside my control. Yes, nailed it!”

“Wow, Tifa we had the exact same idea! Sephiroth was a total stick in the mud about it though.” Aerith couldn’t help but giggle as she sized up Kadaj.

“Actually… it was Kadaj’s idea.” Tifa admitted, blushing slightly.

“I didn’t want Tifa putting herself in danger while I sat around and did nothing!” Kadaj interjected with a smile.

Sephiroth had said that his younger brother was a romantic...

“I’d really like to get to know both of you better, but we also have to figure out a way to get out of here. Sephiroth said that if I got in trouble I should whistle really loudly, but down here I’m not sure even he would be able to hear.” Aerith sighed looking at how thick the walls were… and wishing she also didn’t notice the manacles and… other things cluttering up the room.

“We can’t leave just yet.”

“Yeah, we’re on an important mission for…. important people.” Kadaj’s vainly tried to dance around the topic.

“You’re both in Avalanche.” Sometimes the only way to break the ice was with a sledgehammer.

Kadaj and Tifa’s eyes both instantly decided that they had to be somewhere other than meeting Aerith’s gaze.

When they ran out of other things to look at Kadaj’s eye were sullen with shame while Tifa’s were pointedly accusatory.

“What makes you say that?”

“I live in Sector Five. There were a lot of broadcasts of your attack on the reactor.”

Yet again two sets of eyes found the room’s disturbing implements irresistibly interesting.

“Oh, that, right.” Tifa coughed after finishing another inspection of the room.

Strangely, none of the broadcasts had actually included so much as a flicker of silver hair, but then, she already knew Sephiroth had been there...

“Well since Sephiroth already trusts you, and he’s not exactly a soft sell, I suppose there’s no harm in filling you in.

“After the Sector Five reactor job, some guys came around looking for a friend of mine with only one arm.”

“Who Tifa beat the crap out of. Then they bought everyone a round of drinks. I got lemonade!”

“I asked some questions and found out they were working for Don Corneo. They wouldn’t tell me why he was so interested, though.” Tifa continued, ignoring the interruption.

“Well I mean, he’s a crime lord, and you’re…. sorta kinda criminals; maybe he thought you’d want to buy something illegal from him?”

“Trade negotiations don’t start with his goons leaning on my customers. Which is why we decided that Avalanche needs to know exactly why Don Corneo is so interested in us all of a sudden. I figured that the best way to do it would be to ask him… just another night of getting leered at for tips, y'know?

“As pretty as Tifa is though, she’s only one woman, so I offered to help. Besides, I'd never ridden in a carriage before!”

Aerith grinned back at him.

“This is perfect, then! If we're all in on it, he literally has to pick one of us!”

Tifa began to chew on her lip as she looked Aerith up and down again.

“Avalanche is here to help the people of Midgar, not to exploit them like Shinra. I’m not sure I can really accept...”

“If you’re trying to give me the brushoff, Sephiroth already tried it, about half a dozen times, I’m still here.” Aerith cut her off.

“Welcome to Avalanche!” Kadaj congratulated her with a hug that was so exuberant Aerith could feel her ribs protesting at the pressure and lungs complaining from lack of air.

For all their visual similarities, she could see very little of the brothers in each other. For that matter, Sephiroth had been in the public eye for years; why had his brother never been so much as mentioned?

“That, that might be taking it a bit too far.” Aerith blushed as she struggled to catch her breath once Kadaj’s crushing embrace finally concluded.

“I’m going to help you guy get out of this mess, find out what Don Corneo wants with Avalanche, and then I can finally head home without feeling like I didn’t do my part.”

Aerith was too involved in this particular mess to back out now, but that didn’t mean she planned to spend the rest of her life blowing up mako reactors.

To her surprise Tifa took this news with good cheer, gently resting a hand on Aerith’s shoulder.

“That’s fine, there are lots of people out there who support Avalanche in countless different small ways, some people leave supplies at our dead drops, others report on Shinra shifts schedules or security passwords, not everyone has to fight on the front-lines.”

“Though we’re totally gonna take the fight straight to Don Corneo if he tries to gas us again!”

It made Aerith feel a little bit better to know that she hadn’t been the only one who’d fallen for that particular trick.

“Now ladies, listen up." A voice called to them from above. "I'm sure you're still feeling a bit woozy, but tonight's audition's about to begin. Head out the door to the left and up the stairs. Come on ladies, let's hustle.”

It was show time.

XXX XXX XXX

Having grown up in Lower, Midgar Aerith knew about Don Corneo, the unofficial “king” of Wall Market, but she hadn’t ever seen him in person before. She certainly hadn't expected the cartoon version of him displayed during the Corneo Cup to be such a spot on depiction. Don Corneo was indeed plump, squat, and bald except for a curl of orange blond hair.

He had the sort of eyes that Aerith associated with men her mother had told her to keep away from, his default expression an unseemly leer.

“Nice. Very nice! Whichever one shall I pick?” His voice was packed with more ooze than whatever product he used to style his hair.

Aerith kept her hands folded neatly together and looked straight ahead while keeping her expression passive, she hadn’t come this far just to give the game away.

While his hands never quite actually touched her dress, the way they reached out towards her forced Aerith to fight back a series of repulsed shivers.

“My, my, such a slender thing you are, have you been eating enough?” Ironic that Don Corneo should be worried about Aerith taking in enough calories, because at that moment she felt sorely tempted to violently expel her last meal.

Apparently satisfied with bringing her to the edge of nausea without pushing her over, he now turned his lecherous gaze on Tifa.

“Oh maybe this elegant and refined creature? Is there any chance you’re the descendant of nobility, my dear?” Don Corneo cooed.

“Well, my father was a mayor.” Tifa admitted reluctantly.

“I knew it! There simply had to be vast tracks of land running in your family!”

Then he turned to Kadaj.

“Though how could I refuse this statuesque beauty in silver whose hair sparkles like freshly minted coins?” Don Corneo cackled to himself.

“Who to choose, who to choose, who to choose, who to choose? Truly my faithful followers have presented me with an embarrassment of riches! If the dignified duchess and my silver nightingale would join me in my most intimate quarters perhaps I can finally reach a proper conclusion. Kotch, Scotch, you and the other boys can amuse yourselves with the scarlet lady.” He commanded imperiously.

Before Aerith could even sort out how to feel about that news each of Don Corneo’s minions grabbed one of her shoulders and dragged her from the room.

XXX XXX XXX

That was how Aerith found herself surrounded by four men who were alternating between hooting, hollering and debating which one of them would get to “have fun” with her first.

In short, a certain florist had reached the limit of exactly how much objectification she was going to be putting up with tonight.

“Would you boys like a preview of what you can expect?” Aerith did her best approximation of a femme fatale’s seductive purr.

It wasn’t an especially good impression, but it could hold the attention of a handful of lowlifes for five seconds.

That was all the time she needed to produce the loudest most high pitched whistle of her life.

“The hell are you doing bitch? That hurt my ears!” Scotch complained.

With a piercing HISS-CRACK, the wall exploded inward in a shower of frosted concrete shards.

“Mine, too.” Announced a dispassionate baritone.

The moment Scotch’s eyes flicked away from her, Aerith kicked him as hard as she could. Before he even got a chance to cry out in pain, she started looking for a proper weapon. As luck would have it have it, the first thing to hand was a folding chair. She slammed it down over the lackey's head and then turned to see how Sephiroth was doing.

In the time it had taken her to deal with Scotch, Sephiroth defeated two of the thugs, but it seemed like in the process one of them must have gotten a lucky shot in. She couldn't think of any other reason for why he was just standing there, staring at her like he'd had the wind knocked out of him.

Then she saw the last one coming up behind him with a knife.

"Sephiroth, behind y..." She began to warn him.

She needn't have bothered.

It was like watching a film with frames missing; Sephiroth's elbow collided with the thug's face without seeming to cross the intervening space. He blinked once, slowly, after the man hit the floor.

"Where did they get you?" Aerith wondered if Sephiroth might be in need of healing.

"No..." Sephiroth responded, shaking his head muzzily. "I'm fine," he clarified a moment later, in something closer to his normal clipped tones. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m good also.”

There was another long awkward pause.

One of Don Corneo’s men groaned.

Sephiroth literally leaped on the opportunity, pouncing on the gangster like a cat on an injured mouse, flipping him over and binding first his wrists and then his ankles with a pair of zip ties.

“Do you want your normal dress back?”

“Yes.” Aerith staggered back a step as she caught the bundle.

“Do you want me to leave the room? I can ice over all the entrances to make sure you’re not interrupted.” He offered awkwardly.

“No, that’s fine; if there’s one nice thing about this creepy place its that you can always find a spot to change.”

She wasn’t quite sure what the original intention behind setting up so many Wutain folding screens was, but they did provide enough privacy for her needs.

When she came out from behind the screen, she found Sephiroth had kept busy by affixing zip ties to the limbs of the other unconscious thugs.

“Why are you alone in here? I thought that Don Corneo was going to select one bride from three candidates, do we need to go find Tifa or the other woman?”

“There isn’t another woman in danger, Don Corneo just decided that tonight he needed to have a runoff with two of his prospective brides.” Aerith huffed.

“So you're saying, when it comes to Midgar's most famous degenerate... you're just not what he's looking for?”

Aerith paused for a moment.

“I guess that is what I’m saying.” She admitted, feeling her spirits lift slightly.

“If it helps, I’m sure at least one man in the room found seeing you in that dress, holding that chair, an absolutely stunning experience.”

“Sephiroth, was that a joke?” Aerith began to wonder if maybe she was hallucinating; she had inhaled a lot of knockout gas fairly recently...

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth strode into Don Corneo’s private room with his usual air of unflappable command.

He was promptly “flapped” by the sight of his brother in a dress with a knee planted firmly on Don Corneo’s back pinning him to the bed.

“Kadaaajjjjj...” Sephiroth awkwardly drew out the name, uncertain what else he could say.

“Tifa, can you take over for me?” Kadaj called out to Seventh Heaven’s owner, who was also still dressed for her 'interview'.

Tifa crawled onto the bed and Kadaj promptly “tagged out” with her before bouncing off the bed and jogging out of the room while the bar-owner got to work keeping the “ruler” of Wallmarket immobilized.

“Yep, just like Andrea said, he got somebody to hide our clothes for us!” His voiced carried back into the room.

Before long he zoomed back into the room dressed in his normal black outfit and headed for Sephiroth’s chest like a very affectionate heat seeking missile.

“It’s great to see that you’re okay!” Kadaj cried out as he hugged Sephiroth. “I mean Aerith told me you were, but still, it’s good to see you’re okay in person!”

“This raises many question.” Don Corneo coughed from his undignified position on the bed.

“Too bad, since we’re gonna be the ones asking them tonight.” Tifa cut him off.

Once Kadaj was done with his hug, he “tagged in” and allowed Tifa a chance to change back into her normal outfit.

With that done, the Avalanche trio plus local florist could finally get down to business.

“So, I heard that you were interested in a man with a gun for an arm….” Tifa began.

“Huh? Dunno what you're talking about.”

“Kadaj, are you leaning on his back hard?”

“I could be leaning harder.”

“Do it.” Sephiroth, Tifa, and Aerith chorused.

A few moments later Don Corneo squealed in discomfort.

“What’s the matter? I thought you were looking forward to things getting frisky between us.” Tifa taunted. “So, I heard that you were interested in a man with a gun for an arm...”

“They paid me to find him!”

“Good boy, you’re learning. Now, how about you stop hiding behind pronouns, and tell us exactly who ‘they’ are?”

“They’ll kill me if I tell you!”

“I guess that does make them scarier than us, I mean we’ve done all this without killing anybody yet.” Aerith’s voice was maliciously whimsical.

“I wouldn’t want to break that streak, so instead, maybe I’ll just, I don’t know… rip em off?” She held up an open hand and, under a grin with more teeth than mirth, slowly and deliberately clenched it into a fist.

“It was Public Safety! Heidegger! It was Heidegger!” Don Corneo instantly babbled.

“Why would that overdecorated ironmonger sub-contract his work to you?” Sephiroth scoffed.

“He needed to know what sector Avalanche was based out of.”

“Because…?” Tifa let the word dangle

“Have a heart!” Don Corneo pleaded.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be taking such big risks…. I mean, I’m just a local florist, but they’re all hardened terrorists. So if you’re making me angry right now, imagine how they must feel?”

“The correct answer is, ‘furious enough to stomp on whatever left of your junk after she’s done’.” Tifa clarified.

“He needed to know what sector Avalanche’s base was in… because that way Shinra can drop the Plate on it!”

Silence.

“We need to get out of here.” Sephiroth ordered.

Kadaj leapt off of Don Corneo’s back and headed towards the door.

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Don Corneo chuckled to himself.

Before even Sephiroth could react, Corneo reached out and yanked of the bedposts.

A massive trap door swung open and all four of them plunged downward.

XXX XXX XXX

Reeve retreated to the safety of his office.

Except, his office didn’t feel safe anymore.

Previously, when he’d closed the door behind him, it was as if he was shutting out all of Shinra’s insanity. It allowed him to focus in peace on numbers and spreadsheets that always seemed sane, so long as he could trick himself into not thinking about what they actually represented.

Now… now it felt like the walls were closing in on him, crushing him…. crushing him... just like the people of Sector Seven...

“Something bothering you sir?” His secretary had been in the room when Reeve first entered, but he’d been too busy having a minor panic attack to notice.

“Ms. Pans, please leave.” Reeve requested, his tone polite and devoid of emotion.

She’d been with him for long enough to realized that for him, this was the equivalent of screaming expletives at the top of his lungs while swinging his pants over his head.

She departed from the room with all possible haste.

Reeve brought up a new spreadsheet.

What could Midgar expect if Shinra actually carried out “Operation Damocles” successfully?

Projected loss of life in Sector Seven of Upper Midgar: >10,000 deaths.

Projected loss of life in the Sector Seven Slums: >50,000 deaths.

Projected cost of repairs: >10,000,000,000 gil.

Projected terrorists killed: <10.

Reeve stared at the spreadsheet until he could feel his eyes starting to water.

Then he turned to the coffee mug sitting on his desk.

“be crazy, it helps.”

He turned back to his spreadsheet.

“The secret to good business organization is that all employees understand there comes a time when they must be willing to lead, follow, or get out of the way...” Reeve repeated the mantra aloud, hoping it would help steady his mind.

Lead, follow, or get out of the way?

"Be crazy, it helps..."

XXX XXX XXX

Aerith slowly shook her eyes open. While she liked helping people, she really had to find a way to stop waking up with a headache and no idea where she was or how much time had passed while she’d been unconscious.

“Hey, are you okay? I can try out this new healing materia Tifa got for me, if you need it!” Kadaj’s voice came from somewhere nearby.

Aerith shook her head, then took a moment and shook both of her arms, then both of her legs. Everything hurt, but the pain was dull and throbbing, that meant nothing was broken, right?

“I think I’m okay...” Aerith tried to put him at ease.

As her vision cleared she became certain that wherever she was, it wasn’t the dungeon she’d wound up in after being gassed. The floor was made of concrete rather than brick, and it was more faint green than black.

Also there was the smell.

“What is that…?” Aerith gasped, making sure to breath only through her mouth.

“I think it was meant to kill us.” Sephiroth answered.

Aerith turned in the direction of his voice.

He was leaning against the decapitated head of some horned monstrosity. The rest of its massive carcass lay nearby, marred by deep gashes and leaking some sort of unwholesome emerald fluid.

“That’s on brand; Don Corneo certainly seems like the kind of guy who thinks size is all that matters.” Aerith giggled.

Tifa snickered approvingly as she shook some of same fluid from her gloves.

“So, where exactly are we?” Aerith had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.

“The Sector Six sewer system. Ironically, that suits our needs well enough; we should be able to get back to Sector Seven without having to worry about the wall.”

“Then once we’re back in Sector Seven, we’ll stop Shinra from dropping the plate!” Kadaj spoke as if no other outcome was possible.

“Ready for one more adventure?” Tifa gestured towards the only obvious exit from the room.

“You three are a bad influence on this pure naive florist.”

XXX XXX XXX

“Why is this place so twisty turny? It’s like Shinra can’t even design a sewer system without making it shittier than it needs to be!” Tifa moaned in exasperation as the group came to another dead end, leaving them with no choice but to double back.

“You… you have a lot of friends in Sector Seven don’t you?” Even though they’d only recently met, Aerith could tell that something other than architectural design choices was at the root of Tifa’s rage.

Crack!

Tifa's punch filled the air with dust and flecks of shattered brick.

“Honestly, not that many friends, but I know lots of people who don’t deserve to be murdered because of what we’re doing. If I had to narrow it down, I can’t stop thinking about one innocent girl who's already lost her home to Shinra once. I won’t let it happen to her a second time.” As Tifa spoke, Aerith noticed flecks of mako in her eyes flaring green, the intensity of the bartender's emotions tinting her mahogany eyes hazel.

“Maybe you should try and let it go for just a few moments? Try thinking about something that makes you happy instead. After saving Sector Seven you’re gonna…?” Aerith prompted.

“Tie president Shinra up, hang him from a hook and use him as my new punching bag!”

Aerith winced.

“I guess that’s a step in the right direction, but I was hoping for an answer that might not involve your fists...” She tried again.

“Good point, I have been skipping leg day recently, axe kicks, crescent kicks, front kicks, side kicks, hook kicks, roundhouse kicks, instep groin kicks...” Tifa sounded more amused than angry this time, making Aerith suspect she was getting her own leg pulled.

She risked a quick glance over her shoulder, but if Sephiroth found anything amusing about this exchange he’d managed to hide it by the time she laid eyes on him.

“How about something that doesn’t involve violence at all?” Aerith clarified still further.

Tifa looked around, and there was a strange flush in her face as if she was about to discuss the most embarrassing secret possible.

“I guess, if I had to pick something…. it might be kind of nice to go shopping in Upper Midgar. Since I’d be in the area anyway...” She reluctantly admitted.

Aerith planted a reassuring hand on the other woman’s shoulder.

“Now you’re getting into the spirit! What would you want to buy?” In the back of her mind the florist braced herself for an answer straight out of the anarchist’s cookbook.

“Decorations, coasters, stuff for my bar basically. Seventh Heaven isn’t much to look at, and a new coat of paint won’t change that, but it’s mine.”

“I know a Church in Sector Five that could use a little remodeling as well, especially since there’s now a Sephiroth shaped hole in the roof; would it be okay if I joined you?” Aerith encouraged her.

“Sure thing it’s a date!” Tifa giggled, then she risked a glance behind her as well before lowering her voice.

“Kadaj can carry all of our stuff.”

“No, Sephiroth will, he’ll be our pack chocobo!”

Tifa’s eyes went wide in shock and her face contorted into the awkward expression of someone desperately fighting back a fit of laughter.

“Wow. I know we met in a creepy sex dungeon so this shouldn't really be a surprise, but you are so much braver than I gave you credit for.” She eventually managed to whisper back

XXX XXX XX X

The smell was starting to get to Aerith, and didn't seem likely to improve any time soon; even though the local monsters seems mostly content to keep their distance, the terrain was doing plenty to slow them down on its own.

In this particular case “the terrain” took the shape of a “pontoon bridge” which was nothing more than sheets of metal with rusty barrels attached to it for ballasts.

A unanimous decision was quickly reached to cross it one at a time.

Sephiroth went across first, his footsteps careful and precise to the point that the water didn’t even ripple.

Kadaj’s crossing on the other hand sent the metal sheets shaking and the water splashing in all directions. Whichever way they moved he always seemed to be bending his body in time with it, his sense of balance proving to be as unshakeable as his brother’s.

Tifa’s crossing fell between their two extremes, but she managed to likewise make from one side to the other without accident.

Which just left Aerith.

Now all she had to do was get across a ‘bridge’ barely worthy of the name that she’d just seen crossed by three people who all had a mako glow in their eyes.

Easy….

One foot in front of the other. All she had to do was keep putting one foot in front of the other, and if she felt unsteady she’d pause for a moment to rebalance herself.

On the other side of the bridge Tifa and Kadaj were eagerly cheering her on, the former standing by the edge and the latter crouching near it, as if ready to dive in and fish her out should she fall into the… less than sanitary fluids below.

A part of Aerith wanted to ask them to be quiet so she wasn’t quite so distracted.

Then all of a sudden she felt the pontoons shift beneath her weight, just as she was putting her feet down on the third section of the bridge, it slid backward slightly. There was a sound of metal on metal, and the sound of water flowing rapidly as she felt the bridge start to sink.

“Aerith!” Cried out Tifa.

“Jump!” Advised Kadaj.

There was no time to steady herself or think, only time to act on instinct. Aerith, pumped her arms, raced forward, and jumped, but the bridge was sinking even as she pushed off; she'd had to jump before she'd even reached the midpoint.

She wasn't going to make it.

She scrunched her eyes closed in anticipation; this was going to suck.

She felt a hand wrap around her wrist, and a sudden sense of movement. She opened her eyes to find that Tifa, with one hand around her wrist and the other around Kadaj's, had caught her and swung her onto the walkway before she'd even gotten her boots wet.

What are these people? What am I doing here?

She was in over her head. It was obvious, and she'd just been convincing herself that a few fights in an underground arena meant she could keep up. No more; Aerith made a promise to herself that when finally got back to her bed, she wasn’t leaving it for a week...

XXX XXX XXX

“Here.” Sephiroth made the prediction with well-deserved confidence.

Thanks to having a few days to refresh his mental map of Midgar and adjust it for changes over the five years he'd spent in the Lifestream, it was easy for him to simply correlate their progress through the sewer system with where they’d emerge in the slums.

In fact, they should be less than a block from Seventh Heaven once they finished climbing this ladder.

The circular metal lid made a valiant-but-futile effort to resist a shove from Sephiroth, and they were finally someplace where he wasn’t afraid to breath through his nostrils again.

He took a deep, cleansing breath.

Well, that wasn't right.

There should never have been this much gunpowder in the air in Sector Seven.

Shinra’s attack had already begun.

End Chapter

AN: It’s time to play everyone’s favorite game… exactly how tall are these people again?

Tifa’s height has varied slightly, (just not anywhere near as much as Sephiroth's) she’s basically somewhere between 5’4” and 5’6”, Aerith is 5’3” or 5’4”, and Kadaj is 5’9”. By comparison, Cloud is 5’7” or 5’8”, while I can’t find a listed height for Don Corneo but in the remake he seems to be about eye level with Cloud’s neck/chin.

Chapter 13: Will they hold the wall or will the city fall?

Barret Wallace and Jessie Raspberry were fighting a losing battle to defend the Sector Seven Plate. They were the only members of Avalanche left on the platform; Wedge had been thrown over the side by an exploding missile, while Biggs was still trying to hold the stairs to keep Shinra from simply flooding the platform with reinforcements from below.

When Barret had gotten his prosthetic, he'd opted for a gun chambered for Shinra's standard AR round out of simple expedience. He found himself blessing his foresight in doing so; he'd already scavenged munitions from his fallen foes twice today. Jessie in turn had been forced to completely abandon her sub-machine gun and arm herself with a dead trooper’s weapon.

They'd been scurrying from cover to cover, trying to defend the pillar while exposed on all sides. More than once, he'd had to throw himself between Jessie and incoming fire, running up a tab his body was sure to call due sooner or later...

Another Shinra helicopter swooped in low to deposit still more attackers. They'd been more cautious, at first, but seemed to have caught on that the duo's conventional weapons fire was no longer supplemented by magic or explosives.

This one didn’t bother to come to a hovering stop for troops to rappel out; instead, it did a slow flyover of the platform while three men jumped out. Three men with swords and mako eyes.

SOLDIERs.

Barret could feel beads of sweat trickling down his forehead; Shinra was playing for keeps, all right.

“Ain’t no getting off of this train we’re on, Jessie!”

“End of the line...” One of the SOLDIERs scoffed.

That was when Barret realized that, despite the countless beads of sweat that were working their way down his body, when he’d spoken, his words had been accompanied by a cloud of white mist.

The SOLDIER’s words had likewise produced a noticeable puff.

Something big was happening… and Barret was willing to bet that it was something good, because he didn’t see how things could get much worse.

XXX XXX XXX

Biggs was gut-shot. He’d been wearing one of the makeshift flak vests that Avalanche had been able to kludge together, and he thought it might have helped… some.

He’d downed his last potion shortly after being hit; it was probably why he was still able to stagger around upright at the moment rather than just crawl. Whatever evil genius had thought of putting medical-grade painkillers in an energy drink, Biggs was grateful for it, today.

He’d never imagined that it would end like this.

Not the part about perishing in a hail of gunfire; every member of Avalanche with half a brain was prepared for that possibility.  He’d just never thought… he’d get a chance to die a hero.

Trying to hold off a squad of Shinra troopers with just a pistol, trying to save the lives of everyone in Sector Seven... if that didn’t give him the right to call himself a hero, what would?

It was just too bad that it didn’t look like there was going to be anyone left in Sector Seven to tell people about “Biggs the Hero” when all was said and done.

Biggs drew in a breath that made him feel as if he had daggers lodged in his stomach and tried to steady his arm.

“Come and get me, you bastards!” he called out the advancing trio of Shinra troopers; if he was going to die, he'd do it on his terms: on his feet, with his last round fired. To his surprise, when the words left his mouth they briefly created a miniature fog bank.

As the troopers began to draw a bead on him, he could see the same billowy condensation emerging from their mouths.

XXX XXX XXX

“Attention, Avalanche! You are surrounded; stand down and surrender to Public Safety Immediately!” The voice boomed from the helicopters above.

George would have vastly preferred that the insurgents heeded the message. He’d joined after the Wutain War had ended, but he’d heard stories about it… and this seemed to be worse.

The enemy wasn’t wearing uniforms, they didn’t have battle lines, and most of all they weren’t sane enough to realize when they were beaten.

Avalanche… no, all of Sector Seven had gone insane! The rebels were trying to sabotage the Plate and hold all of Sector Seven hostage. On top of that, the very people whose lives they were endangering had decided to join their cause!

It was absolute madness!

“Stop! I said stop!” George called out to the terrorist one stairwell ahead of him.

The only response he got was a burst of gunfire that forced him to double back a few steps and take cover.

The stairs that lead up to the vital terminal were hell. Not only was it an impossibly long journey, but each separate set of stairs offered another possible strong-point for Avalanche to entrench and inevitably pour fire down on him and his squad-mates.

The only safe way to make progress was to call in gunship support, but if you wanted the support to arrive anytime soon, you had to know what floor of the structure you were on... and one set of metal stairs began to look painfully like all the others you’d trodden up, especially in an active firefight.

The insurgent shouted something, but George couldn’t hear it over the sounds of the gunfire; if it wasn’t for his helmet he’d probably be half deaf by now. The insurgent surely was… that was the only reason he could have possibly missed the stuttering roar of the helicopter taking up position behind him.

Its chin mounted gatling gun opened up and flushed the man from his cover, right into the advancing squad’s line of fire.  Cut down by the fusillade, the Avalanche member sagged against the safety railing, then fell to the deck as his legs gave out completely.  George’s squad stormed up the stairs to take his position before it could be reinforced from above.

“Stairway, clear...” George rasped, catching his breath; why couldn't Avalanche have attacked someplace closer to ground level?

The words left his lips with a trail of condensing water vapor.

That shouldn’t be happening.

“Something strange is going on, is anyone else noticing abrupt temperature changes?” George broadcast through his helmet’s radio.

“Cold… so cold… can’t feel my legs….” Was the first answer he got back.

“Silver snow… silver snow….”

“We’ve lost contact with the base of the Pillar!”

“Can’t get eyes on the ground floor, there’s some sort of localized weather disturbance. Wait… since when does Lower Midgar have weather?”

"There's something moving in the fog. Can't get a bead... Wait, no- Contact! Conta-"

“My gun won’t fire, it’s frozen sol…..” More and more responses were terminating with an unsettling abruptness.

“Somebody please give me a situation report!”

The more he cried out for information, the more frost filled the air.

XXX XXX XXX

“Rude, we’re under the Plate right?” Reno shouted above the “WHUMPA-TINK-WHUMPA-TINK” of their chopper.

“Look up.”

“THEN WHY IS IT SNOWING!?” it wasn’t a shout; it was a horrified scream.

Except it wasn’t snowing. Snow was something that happened when frozen liquids drifted down from above… this… this was rising up from below.

A rolling mass of freezing fog was enveloping the entire Sector Seven Pillar, starting from the bottom, and rising upwards.

“We need to get out of here, now...” Reno insisted, as he realized that there was only one “logical” explanation for what he was seeing.

Rude gripped the flight stick firmly and tilted it.

“I can’t help but notice we’re going closer to the platform. Closer is the opposite of bugging out...” Reno whimpered, his hands fidgeting through countless different positions, in a futile quest to find one that felt comfortable.

The radio in their chopper suddenly flickered to life and Tseng’s firm, dry voice spoke up.

“Please remember that Shinra briefed us and no one else on this mission’s true objectives. Shinra will accept a loose cannon, but not one that refuses to fire at all. Take a look around you. If you don’t do your part, each and every single one of those helicopters will stop what they’re doing and focus on blowing you out of the sky. In other words, your death is a possibility if you set foot on that platform, but it’s a certainty if you don’t.”

Reno took a deep breath and made a pointless effort to try and straighten out a suit he’d spent years getting to the perfect state of rumpled to say “I don’t care about this job” but not quite disheveled enough to actually be grounds for censure.

“Okay, I’ve thought it over, and the one of you who outranks me has made some very good points. I’d normally say that I’m a little too sober to be in the mood for having my ass kicked, but what the hell, I’m gonna give it the old college try! Get me within 20 feet of that platform and I’ll jump the rest.”

He might be about to die, but he’d try his best to do it with a smile.

XXX XXX XXX

(A few minutes earlier)

Sephiroth looked up at the battle being waged between Shinra personnel and... anyone in Sector Seven who could find a gun, it seemed. By engaging in such an insane plan, Shinra was making Barret Wallace’s dreams of a massive revolution a reality.

Shinra was really trying to do it; for some reason, it hadn't felt real until he'd seen it unfolding in front of him.

Behind him, Tifa and Aerith were arguing; something about Aerith needing to go rescue the young girl who he’d seen in Seventh Heaven.  He tuned them out.  Around him, people were racing through the streets, chattering and screaming; he tuned them out, too.  All of his focus was turned inward, all of his prodigious intellect brought to bear to calculate the scope, the sheer weight, of the disaster unfolding in front of him..

There were more people living on the Sector Seven Plate than there had been in Nibelheim, and they were all going to die. There were roughly five times that many people living in the Sector Seven Slums, and they were all going to die.  Faces seen in passing, names glimpsed in a directory...  Death at this scale invited abstraction, incredulity, and horror, none of which were useful.  Wrath , however…  Wrath was unimpeachable as a galvanizer, and he had wrath in ample supply.  

Nibelheim had been the last time he’d been this angry, but back then, he’d been too self-absorbed until too late, his best too little to undo what he’d let happen. Today, however... today was going to be just one more case of General Sephiroth arriving just. In. Time .

Shinra’s news media had loved to talk about Supernova, about how he’d used it to burn an entire Wutain division to ashes in the blink of an eye. Not all situations could be resolved with an apocalyptic alpha strike; luckily, Sephiroth had more than one limit break….

“Ninth Circle.” The words roared in his chest, thundered in his temples... but left his lips in a whisper too soft for even Kadaj to hear.

The only proof they’d been spoken was the collection of frozen crystals that sprayed out from his lips... like a small piece of Sephiroth’s soul had just left his body.

It was fortunate, he reflected in a detached sort of way, that Aerith had somewhere else she needed to be… he wasn’t going to be using any of her zip ties today.

XXX XXX XXX

“Ah, for the love of… I’m getting sick of this. Don’t they have anything better to do?” Lucas muttered as he reloaded, crouching behind a makeshift barricade that had been set up near the bottom of the support pillar.

“Tell me about it.” his squad-mate Jamie agreed “You see how hard we got hit over here?  Shit, what’s wrong with these people…?”.

“ I repeat: This is... Goddamn it. No signal. ” Lucas muttered as he tried to get his radio working again.

From behind it they could hopefully keep any more insane terrorists from trying to seize the Plate Access Terminal.

Still, with how vicious things were getting, would there be anyone left alive in Lower Sector Seven by the time this battle ended?

He drew a deep breath and turned his eyes upwards upwards, towards the house his parents had been able to buy on the Sector Seven Plate with the money he’d made from this job. He was going to keep them safe, no matter what.

“What the hell is that?” cried out Jamie as he gestured with his gun towards the floor.

Lucas risked a glance over the barricade in time to see jagged tendrils of ice racing across the ground towards them.

A few moments after that, both men began to shiver.

A few moments after that, both men were dead.

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth didn’t bother to wipe the blood off of Masamune as he stepped over the decapitated Shinra troopers; there would be more to come, soon enough.

XXX XXX XXX

Biggs could vaguely make out a figure in black with silver hair approaching him.  “’Bout time you showed up, newbie.”

He couldn’t stand anymore, and was reduced to slumping against part of the support structure, holding tightly to the pistol that had two bullets left in its final clip.

“Cureaga.”

Biggs’ smile became slightly less forced as he felt his body go into overdrive to piece itself back together, or maybe the healing magic was just making it so that he could die peacefully instead of in agony?

“Like what I did with the place? Had to do my part before you stole the show...” Biggs motioned towards the fallen Shinra troopers who surrounded him.

By the time he looked back up, Biggs was alone.

XXX XXX XXX

Tifa Lockhart was powerless.

Shinra was trying to destroy her home and everyone she knew for a second time, and there was nothing she could do about it.

It was making her start to second guess even the few moments she’d spared, making sure that Wedge was okay. It was a good thing he’d had his grappling gun on him; there was no way he’d have survived falling from the support pillar’s superstructure, otherwise.

She was running as fast as she could, and yet it still wasn’t fast enough to get her hands on any of the Shinra troops attacking the Plate; every single one she and Kadaj managed to find was already dead.

As a little girl, she’d never had a crush on General Sephiroth.  She still didn’t… but she’d be lying if she didn’t suddenly understand how all the boys in her town had felt towards him a great deal better.

Tifa was fast, she was vicious, and she was spoiling for a fight- but right now, she was just a barracuda swimming in the wake of the Planet’s biggest shark.

XXX XXX XXX

Kevin was one of Shinra’s elite helitroopers, equipped with an arm-mounted rotor that generated enough lift for powered flight and an exoskeleton that supported him enough to move freely with all his weight hanging from the end of one arm. For a mission like this, close air support for brutal city fighting, helitroopers were a vital complement to Shinra's more heavily-armed but less-maneuverable helicopter fleet.

Ever since an unexpected fog had rolled in, however, his flying device had started to behave erratically, to the point that he'd flown in low over the pillar’s stairs in case it failed outright.

Something strange was definitely going on; the flexible parts of his suit were getting stiffer, and he could feel a chill seeping through them.  Ice started to spread over the flight mechanism, and sure enough, its whirring blades soon came to a complete stop.

The moment he touched down on solid ground, a black and silver blur struck him, knocking him back into the air and straight over the safety railings.

He spent the rest of his life trying desperately to restart the frozen rotor.

XXX XXX XXX

The trio of SOLDIERs advanced on the two members of Avalanche.

There was a crackling sound. It wasn’t the sharp retort of gunfire, this was more like the sound of ice breaking beneath someone’s boots, and it was getting closer with every step.

“You guys are in troouubl….” Jessie drew out the word like a child mocking their classmate who had just earned their teacher’s ire.

"While you studied the blade... I was in rehearsal! I hate to take my bows so early, but any actor worth their lines knows better than to upstage the leading man."

A baleful green glimmer refracted through the fog, slowly coming into focus as two burning eyes in a dark silhouette.

“Three SOLDIERS?” the figure scoffed.

The trio charged, either because they had nowhere to retreat to, or because they wanted to kill Jessie and Barret while they still had a chance.

Sephiroth charged, and the ice charged with him, a kaleidoscopic, impossible blur. Masamune effortlessly batted away one SOLDIER's blade, nearly taking his hand on the return. A blade of frost formed from thin air in the path of the second's, shattering on impact and showering him with razor-edged shards, before a frozen spike longer than Jessie’s arm emerged from nowhere and plunged itself into the third's torso.

All three of Sephiroth’s foes were wearing the purple of First Class SOLDIERS, yet they seemed utterly helpless. Sephiroth’s black booted feet found effortless purchase on the ice that made them stumble, and every blow that he didn’t dodge or parry was instead blocked by instantly materializing icy armor. They might as well have been trying to fight a glacier….

XXX XXX XXX

Like many decisions he’d made in his life, Reno immediately regretted jumping down to try and activate the Plate Release System.

“To all choppers in the area, this is Whiskey One, requesting air support in roughly ten seconds, danger close. If you can avoid killing me that, would be awesome.” he said into his suit’s concealed radio.

Reno was scared. That was a good thing. Being scared of fighting General Sephiroth meant he wasn’t insane. Fear was the appropriate response. Fear, and running away.

Well, so much for going with the appropriate response…

Still, Sephiroth had been out of the game for the last five years while Reno had been perfecting the art of staying alive; maybe that would count for something?

Reno took off running. The world around him slowed to a crawl. Every individual movement of his body was so fast it generated discharges of static electricity that formed a miniature lighting storm around him.

Sephiroth was distracted by a trio of SOLDIERS. There would never be a better chance than this. All Reno had to do was get behind him. Sephiroth only had one sword, he couldn’t use it to stab two people on opposite sides of him at the same time. At least, he shouldn’t be able to, now that his personal snow storm seemed to finally be abating.

All Reno had to do was get behind him.

How hard could it possibly be?

Reno had already managed to stab countless people in the back, what was one more?

All he had to do was get behind Sephiroth…

A single mako green eye moved.

Reno kept running, keeping well out of Masamune’s reach…

A chin started to tilt.

The blood froze in Reno's veins, vodka and all.

A single silver eyebrow rose in open mockery of the Turk’s efforts.

Reno was running as fast as he could; the entire world was a frozen tableau except for him… and General Sephiroth.

Reno felt his eyes widen, bowels loosen, and his mouth open to shape inventive invectives. He now deeply regretted approaching any part of this silver haired monster. Reno expended incredible amounts of energy to move this quickly…. Sephiroth made it all seem so completely effortless.

The monster’s face morphed from passive concentration into a sneer of contempt.

A black gloved wrist twitched; all three SOLDIERS went flying.

Masamune lashed out at the Turk.

Reno dodged without a care where exactly he ended up; all that mattered was that he NOT get bisected by Sephiroth’s very first attack.

Which was how he ended up flopping over onto his back and sliding across the platform to ram shoulder-first into a guard rail.

The trio of SOLDIERS were still “flying”; their bodies hadn’t even managed to clear the railing yet, which would be happening in the next few subjective seconds.

Seconds had never felt like such an impossibly long time; thinking that you wouldn’t be alive for very many more of them had that effect, though…

Sephiroth jumped.

It was like he was so freakishly strong that the air itself couldn’t help but get out of his way. That was the only explanation for how he was able to move like that; the faster Reno ran the more he had to actively fight against air resistance, but apparently, Sephiroth was too powerful to be bothered by such mundane concerns.

How could Sephiroth jump like that, but not have the floor buckle beneath his boots when he landed? The question bounced around inside Reno’s head; for some reason he found himself more invested in pondering that mystery than the little matter of how he was about to F**KING DIE!

Masamune descended and Reno somehow managed to not only roll out of the way, but rise to his feet in the process. It came at him again and Reno darted to the side; trying to block or even parry that blade would be like getting into a fist fight with a speeding locomotive.

His hypothesis was confirmed by the way the longsword neatly severed the same safety railing that had kept him from plummeting off the pillar a few moments ago.

Then Sephiroth forwent any sort of fancy blade-work and just shoved him.

Reno went flying across the platform and slammed into the railing on the other side hard enough to leave a Turk-shaped dent.

As massive stabs of pain shot through Reno’s sides, he tried to reassure himself that this was fine. Having gotten the wind knocked out of him meant that his perception of time would go back to normal, and then Sephiroth could kill him so quickly he wouldn’t even notice. All he wanted now was to queue up a PSA on his phone before it happened…

That was when the missile exploded about ten feet behind Sephiroth.

It didn’t kill him, of course; how could you hope to kill a mountain sized mass of murder compacted down into a vaguely human shape? It did manage to piss him off, though, which was more than anything Reno had managed, and was more than enough for the wounded Turk’s purposes.

XXX XXX XXX

“Fire one.” Tom smirked as he pulled the trigger.

A moment later, the missile slammed into the platform. It failed to kill his target, but it had hurt him; it had to have hurt him.

“Is that… is that Sephiroth? I’m pulling back...” warned Hardy, his pilot.

Tom carefully watched the crosshairs as he began flicking switches to arm still more munitions.

“Does it really matter? He stands still long enough to use magic, he gets turned into chunky salsa.  What’s he gonna do, stab us from over there??” Tom countered as his weapons panel came to life with a lovely array of ready lights. If the Turk wanted a fire mission, he’d get a fire mission.

Their silver haired target took his attention off of Reno, and focused on the two of them, as if he could see straight into Tom’s eyes.

“Fire… everything.” Tom said with the dispassionate derision of a child holding a magnifying glass above an anthill. A salvo of over a dozen missiles streaked away from under their helicopter’s wings and shot down towards the platform below.

The silver haired figure leaped.

“No…”

He soared through the air, Masamune flashing in intricate patterns as he carved a path through the missile storm in mid air.

“NO…”

The missiles he’d attacked exploded in his wake, but Sephiroth seemed utterly unharmed when his boots slammed into their windshield.

“F#$K!”

It’d be child’s play for Masamune to punch through a sheet of glass and impale them where they sat, but Sephiroth didn’t stab; he slashed above the canopy, then extended Masamune straight upwards. The rotor stalled out, imparting its momentum into the outstretched sword and flinging it and its wielder clear... but the helicopter was already falling, deprived of the whirling blades by Sephiroth's first strike.

“He just… he just…” Tom muttered the words, not quite knowing what he was trying to say, but unable to stop gibbering.

“Bastard didn’t even bother to kill us himself, he’s gonna let gravity do it for him...” Hardy moaned.

The two shared a look. They both knew that even if they managed to put on their parachutes and bail out, their odds of surviving were miniscule at best, and even if the landing somehow didn’t kill them, they’d probably be butchered by the rebels on the ground.

What did you do when death was racing towards you at 9.8 meters a second squared?

XXX XXX XXX

“Cure… cure… cure… cure...” Reno gasped out the word over and over and over again, extremely glad that he’d stuck that particular materia into his nightstick on his first day of work and never even contemplated removing it.

He wasn’t sure exactly what Sephiroth had done to his chest, but the healing magic seemed to be reversing its worst symptoms. Reno could breathe again without feeling like he was tearing his own body apart, and stand without worrying that he might collapse at any moment.

Right now, some other poor bastard was getting his ass kicked by Sephiroth, and Reno was perfectly okay with that.

All that mattered was that he get roughly ten seconds alone with the Plate Release System….

“Hold it right there!” announced a voice that Reno had never heard before.

“ Now what ?” Reno spat, unable to keep his eyes from rolling in exasperation.

He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to ruin his day next, but it was not a miniature version of Sephiroth.

That was the only way that Reno could conceptualize what he was seeing.

Had Sephiroth started moving so fast that he’d split into multiple versions of himself?

Reno had all manner of insults instantly vying for a chance to be the first past his lips.

Then he remembered just how thoroughly he’d gotten his head handed to him less than a minute ago. He’d thought getting out-napped was embarrassing, but that had just become the second most humbling defeat he’d suffered at Sephiroth’s hands.

So, much like needing to go on a mystical vision quest with a talking coyote had led to Reno to promise himself he’d never again mix alcohol and Gongagan insanity peppers, he was now making a vow that he would NEVER, EVER, smack talk anyone with silver hair and vertical pupils.

“What’s your name?” Reno asked, figuring that this fight was probably going to last for a while; and he didn’t want to spend its entire length thinking of his new foe as just “Mini-Sephiroth”.

“My name is Kadaj. I’m Sephiroth’s younger brother, and the hero who is going to stop you.”

Reno kept his lips buttoned in an act of restraint that would have impressed one of those hermits who spent their entire lives on desolate mountaintops.

Instead, the Turk took another deep breath and started running as fast as he could, trying to circle around Kadaj.

Just like Sephiroth, Kadaj seemed to be able to move even when Reno’s pure celerity would have reduced most people to statues, but at least it seemed to require some effort on his part!

Reno had a chance in this fight, which was a hell of a lot more than he’d had against Sephiroth!

XXX XXX XXX

Rude saw the silver blur coming towards his helicopter. He wasn’t sure if he’d been singled out, or just made the mistake of flying too close to the platform, but the question became academic when the comforting roar of a functioning rotor abruptly vanished.

His stomach jumped up into his throat as the helicopter began to plunge towards the ground.

The Turks' 'benefits package,' had made him stronger, faster, and tougher than any normal person; he could easily grab a parachute, if not put it on, and jump clear. Low-Open jumping was dicey, though; he'd survive, but he'd still hit the ground pretty hard... and be too far out of position to support his partner atop the pillar. Judging by the sounds Reno was making over the radio, he could use the help.

Rude’s partner in Shinra sanctioned crime needed him. He unbuckled his safety gear and made a beeline for the helicopter’s still open side hatch.

He leaped clear of the plummeting vehicle and grabbed hold of the platform’s safety railing. Once he pulled himself up, he should be able to properly support Reno in his mission to activate the Plate Release System.

Except that as it turned out, someone was waiting for him.

Mako flecks, contrasting sharply against the woman's mahogany-colored eyes, flared like distant wildfire in the night as she glared at him. She cracked her knuckles, then her neck.

Rude had always appreciated women were able to say more by saying less; he was sorry for what he was about to do…. and she wasn’t.

XXX XXX XXX

Kadaj’s sword clashed against Reno’s nightstick for roughly the dozenth time. Arcs of electricity jumped from Reno’s weapon into the metal of Kadaj’s blade, then Kadaj’s body.

A single “blade lock”, assuming you could call it that when only one of the combatants was actually wielding an edged weapon, would be enough to shock your average human into submission.

He’d hadn’t fought that many SOLDIERs in the past, but even a First Class should have started to develop numb fingers several shocks ago. It was possible that Kadaj’s outfit sported a hidden layer of non-conductive material just like the one Reno had added to his suit after the third time he’d accidentally zapped himself with his own baton. It was also possible that someone who claimed to be Sephiroth’s brother might share the big guy's disrespect for the rules of nature.

Luckily, while he might be freakishly fast, and shockingly resistant to being electrocuted, he lacked Sephiroth’s raw strength. That, and he also lacked the big guy’s actual skill at fighting opponents who could keep up with him.

Reno leaned in on the nightstick, and used his forearm to press the tip of the baton towards his foe just above the point where they’d made contact. Normally, a move like that would have come with a risk of being stabbed in the face, but in this case….

“A knife fighting grip with a sword, really ? What, did you learn how to fight from movies?” The Turk scoffed.

There was another sharp “crack” of electrical discharge and the sword fell from numb fingers; Reno kicked it away with a cocky smirk.

/Finally, something comes up Reno! I missed you, cocky smirk!\

Kadaj gave ground but refused to get out of the way, his green eyes locked with Reno’s own turquoise.

“Sword or no sword, you’re not getting past me.”

"C'mon, kid, you really gonna make me kill you?"

"...Yeah." There was something fey in those inhuman eyes. "Yeah, I think I am."

Kadaj raised his fists and squared his shoulders. "This is what heroes do. This is what heroes are for ."

Reno had seen how fast Kadaj could move; he could easily dart over to retrieve his weapon, but he refused to be anywhere that wasn’t directly between Reno and the Plate Release System’s terminal.

“Your funeral.” The Turk sighed before rushing straight ahead.

Kadaj landed a mean left hook to Reno’s face, but deprived of his weapon and refusing to dodge out of the way, it was easy for the Turk to tackle his silver-haired foe to the ground. Scrabbling for position, Reno delivered a vicious headbutt and a series of blows with a baton that was only technically a nonlethal weapon.

“Nap-time kiddo.” Reno declared, grimacing as one eye swelled shut.  He couldn’t quite shake the sense he was forgetting something.

He cranked up the output on his baton as high as it would go and jammed it into Kadaj's sternum.

“Hhhhhihhh.... Hurhhhh... Hehh... Heheheh..." Kadaj gasped for air, grinning past bloody teeth. "Is that… the worst you can do?”

Reno wasn’t sure what kind of a reaction he’d expected, but that sure as hell wasn’t it. He didn't notice Kadaj's gloved hand wrapping around his bare one until it was too late- a pulse of electrical energy leapt from Kadaj’s glove to Reno’s flesh and knocked him sprawling.

“Why won’t you stay down?” the Turk demanded.  He was definitely forgetting something.  He was sure of it.

“Why do you want to kill so many people?" Kadaj retorted, hauling himself to his feet. "What could possibly be worth that?”

Reno determined that the most persuasive response possible to that question was to beat Kadaj’s face into a bloody pulp with his nightstick.

Several blows later he’d managed to split Kadaj’s lip and shatter his nose… but that damnable smile was still there.

“Damn it, buy a vowel and get a freaking clue!” Reno screamed before bringing down his nightstick again, though this time around Kadaj managed to get his right arm in the way to absorb the Turk’s attack.

“Give up!”

“Never.”

WHACK!

“Give up!”

“Never.”

WHACK!

“Give, up!”

“ Never .”

WHACK!

Before long the words lost all meaning, they might as well have been bestial grunts as the Turk tackled Kadaj to the ground again and the two rolled around on the platform, Reno trying to find a level of physical trauma or electrical discharge that would finally end this increasingly brutal brawl.

It was funny in a way: millions of years of evolution, millions of gil spent on raising him, training him, equipping him, tinkering with his body, and teaching him to control magic… but at the end of the day, Reno was just a monkey with a stick beating another monkey to death.

“Thanks.” Kadaj eventually choked out.

It was the first thing other than “never” he’d said in a while.

Reno was starting to think he might have finally inflicted some form of concussion on Kadaj, then he saw the glint of light striking off of something metal, something that was far brighter than any of the random debris surrounding them.

He’d been so busy trying to beat his opponent senseless that he hadn’t realized they’d rolled within arms reach of that weird sword. Not just that, but they were positioned so Kadaj could reach it with his left hand, which was why he’d let Reno pummel, nay pulverize, his right.

/Ah.  Right.  Smack talk.  Silver hair.  That whole bit.\

“Son of a bitch.” Reno yelped as he scampered like the scared simian he was, just barely disengaging and rolling away fast enough to avoid getting gutted.

Kadaj rose to his feet, spat out some more blood, and yet again positioned himself directly between Reno and the Plate Release System’s terminal.

“My name is Kadaj. I’m Sephiroth’s younger brother, and the hero who is going to stop you.”

/This f**king mission.\

XXX XXX XXX

Rude had half a dozen black belts and had been killing people with his bare hands for over a decade now; why was he currently having trouble dealing with one random rebel?

Okay, that was underselling her. Whoever this woman was, she had to be among the Avalanche’s elite; she’d been chosen to attack the Sector Five reactor alongside Sephiroth and the one armed man who seemed to be their leader. Rude desperately hoped she was among Avalanche’s elite; he didn’t look forward to fighting someone even more deadly than his current opponent.

There was also the little matter of how she’d been able to inflict noticeable damage on the Airbuster with her bare hands. Only someone with SOLDIER enhancements should be able to accomplish that. Faced with such a dangerous foe, Rude did what he did best, fight conservatively and study his opponent.

He’d managed to determine two facts so far; the first was that she clearly knew what she was doing; she seemed comfortable trading shots with him, but wasn’t afraid to clinch up to negate his longer reach. The second was that he’d never fought anyone who hated him as much as this woman did.

Rude’s blue suit,superhuman abilities, and his own impressive combat skills were normally enough to ensure his foes were far too frightened to actually be angry. Not this woman.

Not only that, but she seemed aware of how angry she was; she was using her rage to fuel her attacks rather than letting it drive her into a mindless berserker frenzy.

As she advanced on him again, Rude swayed out of the way of a punch, his suits’ sleeves fluttering to unleash some of his carefully concealed supply of Shinra’s top of the line air-borne soporific. Reno liked to call the stuff “the vacation slide-show” because exposure to it would make you go from combat ready to unconscious in less than ten seconds. Rude gently puffed a generous portion at his opponent who brought up her hands to shield her face, a highly inefficient way of keeping yourself from inhaling something.

Then her gloves burst into flame.

There was a miniature fireworks display as Rude’s chemical attack combusted harmlessly. Not even bothering to clear her field of vision, she followed it up with a kick from her left leg to Rude’s chest. That proved to be an overreach, though; he managed to catch her foot with one hand before it could make contact.

He gave a yank, hyperextending the leg and pulling her off balance, then followed up with a hammerblow to the side of her locked knee. She twisted in his grip, letting out a hiss as the blow landed on the back of her knee- painful, but a far cry from the disabling strike he'd attempted. As she finished her spin, she drove her free heel into the side of his head, breaking his sunglasses and sending them flying.

Rude staggered, his vision swimming... but he still had control. She had no footing, no leverage, and no traction. With another sharp yank on her ankle, he swung her over his head and slammed her into the floor.

He saw the flashes of hatred in her eyes as he pulled her down, gravity aiding the strength of his attack, also spotting how she tried to go limp in order to better ride out the impact.

One slam wasn’t going to be enough to get the job done, not against someone with SOLDIER enhancements who knew all the right counter moves. So he lifted her up into the air and slammed her back down a second time. Then he did it a third, and a fourth.

It was clearly taking a toll- she was getting less and less able to catch her breath between impacts, and her eyes seemed unable to focus on him.

He pulled her off the ground again, but this time the momentum he wanted to impart on her was horizontal instead of vertical. Big throws with lots of windup were normally the last maneuver that Rude would ever consider using in a fight; leave that sort of thing to the movies where they had to show the hero being menaced, yet somehow always avoided serious harm. Right now though, right now, throwing this woman off of the platform seemed to be the surest way to take her out of the fight.

It might even have worked… but the moment he tried to do something other than pound her into the floor her eyes suddenly refocused; she struck like a snake, flexing her leg and curling her body to wrap both hands around his wrist.

Using his own body for leverage she delivered a kick to his right shoulder that sent waves of pain and numbness racing through his entire arm.

Surprise mixed with sheer simple inability to properly manipulate his wounded limb slackened his grip. A slack grip combined with his attempt to spin his opponent around was the perfect recipe for her break free, and sure enough, the woman willingly let go of his arm and launched herself away with another stomp kick to his chest.

The escape sent her rolling across the platform, but if she could still fight like that after being actively mashed into it several times over, a few bumps wouldn’t even slow her down.

Rude did the only thing he could at the moment: take a second to pop his dislocated shoulder back into place. That done, he reached into his right breast pocket and pulled out a new pair of sunglasses. A “new” pair of sunglasses that must have been clipped by the edge of her second kick, because they already had a shattered lens.

/This f**king mission.\

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth had run out of helicopters to deal with. This wasn't to say the skies were empty, but they’d all pulled back too far to be sure of reaching them with a jump.

Deprived of his prey, he resolved to deal with the Turks. Before he could get down to business, though, Sephiroth felt the slight twinge of his body being peppered with shrapnel from nearby explosions, again .

Turning around to see who had just signed their own death warrant this time, he discovered that what had attacked him was no ordinary helicopter. It had a trio of distinct rotors and its main purpose was obviously ordnance delivery rather than personnel transport.

Right after the missiles struck home against him, a few errant ones peppered the support pillar itself, tearing chunks from its superstructure. The pillar didn’t seem to be in any danger of collapsing, but Sephiroth didn’t intend to find out how many more such strikes it could withstand.

Whatever that flying machine was, he was going to destroy it.

“Why don’t you have the decency to just lay down and die?” demanded a familiar voice broadcast at maximum volume.

“Could you come closer, Heidegger? All that shrapnel left my throat a little sore.”

Imparting the kinetic energy of a sword swing into a wave of force that traveled along the ground was a trick every SOLDIER had to master to take 2nd Class colors... but the ground had never been a particularly important part of the process for Sephiroth

Still, he preferred not to use this technique; both the likelihood and severity of collateral damage were too high for comfort, but at the moment, he was running out of options.  Masamune slashed through the air, sending a flurry of blue-white arcs of force to meet the heavily armed copter, but they did little more than scratch the paint; the hull flashed brightly as a structural power field bled off the kinetic impacts. His attack broke like waves on the shore, powerless against the barrier.

Sephiroth was running out of options, and he now had one fewer.

“Did you really think that your little kung-fu tricks would be able to damage Shinra’s new Valkyrie ordnance platform? You’re an obsolete relic, Sephiroth, no better than the Wutains you brought to heel! It’s time for Shinra to put you back where you belong, the past!” Heidegger jeered.

Numerous hatches on the sides of the Valkyrie popped open to unleash a fresh storm of missiles.

/Obsolete? \

XXX XXX XXX

“Yes, yes, this will be glorious!” Heidegger’s hologram and voice all but filled the cockpit.

Edward felt a lump forming in his throat as his grip on the controls tightened.

“General Heidegger, I was given to understand that the Valkyrie’s purpose in this operation was to serve as your command and control platform,” he hesitantly pointed out.

“The Valkyrie’s purpose is to be a weapon of war, and weapons of war destroy their enemies!” a holographic representation of Shinra’s field commander snarled back.

“I think you might have underestimated just how powerful some of its weapons are due to a lack of field testing; what if the salvo you had me launch damages the Plate’s support pillar?” 

Getting picked to pilot the Valkyrie had seemed like much more of a plum assignment before Heidegger had ordered him to to use it as more than a heavily armored set of eyes, ears and lips.

“If that traitor Sephiroth isn’t killed today, it’ll only be a matter of time before his insanity leads him to attack another reactor or support pillar. Better that all of Sector Seven should perish than to risk his survival!” Heidegger scoffed.

Edward's throat went dry. "Y- Yes, sir..." he managed to choke out.

It was not his place to argue with Heidegger’s analysis of how big a threat Sephiroth represented; he was just a glorified chauffeur.

As they waited for lead missiles of their second barrage to [reach their target and detonate, the radar abruptly detected that some of the missiles had reversed direction and were now moving closer…

A moment later, more warning lights began to blink into existence.

“General, we’re detecting localized category 5 winds in front of the pillar!”

Even as the center of the missile barrage was caught up in a catastrophic windstorm, its edges were assailed by crescents of blue-white energy that effortlessly bisected missiles and dragged survivors off-course to collide in their wake.

Before he could recover from that shock, Edward noticed that the windstorm had managed to spin the missiles around a full 180 degrees, and that they were now headed towards the Valkyrie... which was, sadly, only the second most unpleasant surprise he’d just gotten…

“General Heidegger, I think Sephiroth is... surfing a missile towards us!”

"Don't be stupid; that's impossible!"

XXX XXX XXX

As Sephiroth surfed a missile towards the Valkyrie, he couldn't help but think that he owed Zack an apology; sometimes plans so outrageous that the enemy couldn't have possibly conceived of them beforehand really were your best option.

XXX XXX XXX

While Heidegger was busy half muttering, half screaming something about air resistance and kinetic vectors, Edward brought the Valkyrie’s gatling cannons online for point defense work.

Missiles began to prematurely detonate as they were punctured by the Valkyrie’s rounds. Despite the cannons' prodigious rate of fire, it wasn’t fast enough; Sephiroth seemed to be generating miniature windstorms for the express purpose of maneuvering his improbable explosive conveyance.

“The Drill! Use the drill!” Heidegger demanded.

In another situation, dealing with someone who couldn’t have him and his entire family lined up against a wall and shot, Edward might have made some unkind comments about backseat driving or the feasibility of aerial jousting against an explosive missile.

Instead, he took a deep breath and began to tilt his joystick in order to alter the Valkyrie’s flight profile from vertical to horizontal. At the same time his other hand was busy continuing to cycle through cameras looking for the perfect view to keep him aware of the situation.

“Good, now ram him!”

The Valkyrie’s drill attachment had originally been designed for… on second thought, Edward wasn’t quite sure why Shinra had decided to attach a gigantic melee weapon to what was otherwise a flying artillery platform. Well, whatever its original design purpose had been, Edward was damn sure it wasn’t this.

These kinds of dogfighting maneuvers were demanding for the best pilots under the best circumstances, with the most agile aircraft, but Edward knew that if he gave it his all...

He could narrowly miss while the Valkyrie's system monitors politely informed him that the weapons platform had abruptly gained an unauthorized passenger's worth of weight, apparently.

“Shake! Him!  Loose!” Heidegger growled through clenched teeth.

“Excellent idea, General!” Edward rapidly agreed before inverting the Valkyrie.

Maybe if he was especially lucky, not only would Sephiroth lose his grip, but he’d fall directly into the spinning rotors. If anything had a chance of actually killing the Silver General, that would be it….

A moment later, Edward could hear the groan of metal as something, or rather someone, refused to be shaken loose.  This was followed by all of the screens suddenly flickering ever so slightly before stabilizing.

“That fool, he didn’t realize that after the Guard Scorpion’s failure, we hardened our kinetic barrier generators against electrical surges! Not only that, but it’s so seamlessly interwoven with the armor itself that he'll never get through-the field won't fail while the armor holds, and the armor can't be breached while the field is active!"

"Yes, general. I did read the dossier..."

"What was that?"

"Brilliant innovation, sir!"

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth held on for the dear lives of everyone in Sector Seven.

He’d successfully closed the gap between himself and the Valkyrie; now he just needed a way to dismantle it. That was easier said than done, however; the kinetic shield hadn’t shorted out, and he didn’t like his odds of burning or freezing it, either.  With his list of possible options rapidly dwindling, it was time to consider an impossible one.

Bracing himself awkwardly against the cylindrical module in the center of its roof he began to fiddle with the silver emblem at the middle of his belt. 

Click.

The belt buckle came loose and then with the gentle “fsssh” of extending fabric he was able to wrap his belt around the entire cylinder in order to secure himself. 

/Fifteen foot belt, actually useful... you win this one, Debbie, but Marketing still owes me for the PSAs...\

That done, all he needed to worry about now was breaking through the kinetic field; it might be able to absorb Masamune’s impacts, but absorption wasn’t nullification. That meant there was a limit to what it could take; he was going to push this system beyond its limits.

PTANG!

Well he’d managed to hit it once, and unlike with that scorpion he hadn’t been thrown halfway across the Sector; so far, so good.

PTANG!

PTANG!

PTANG!

PTAPTPTAPTPTANPTAPTANG!

The sounds of metal impacting against the kinetic barrier again and again ran together into an endless cacophony from which Sephiroth outright refused to accept a migraine.

He kept swinging.

Kssssss….

The aural assault ended with the soothing sound of Masamune striking against only reinforced armor and effortlessly severing one of the gunship’s rotors. Feeling his footing shift, he leapt clear as the other two rotors plunged towards him.  His right hand opened, then closed a split second later, his grip tightening around the extreme ends of his belt before he realized... he needn't have bothered.

Deprived of a third of its lift, the gunship had begun to lose altitude… and Sephiroth hadn’t.

His body had simply decided that the third law of motion could go and apply itself to people not named Sephiroth, and his mind had summarily deferred the matter in favor of focusing on his objective.

Even now, as the Valkyrie dipped and bucked from the unplanned change to its flight profile, Sephiroth stood above it, hanging in midair.

Still, he doubted removing one rotor would be enough to ground the Valkyrie, but with the kinetic shield out of the equation, its fate was sealed.

"I'd like gravity to turn back on now." He announced to whoever might be listening.

It did, and Sephiroth dove on the Valkyrie like a bird of prey.

XXX XXX XXX

“General, he just landed back on us, and without rotor 1, lift capacity is at 66%!” Edward warned.

“Take us closer to the Pillar!”

“Closer to the Pillar?”

“WAS I UNCLEAR? If you can’t shake him off, smash him against the pillar like a bug on the windshield!”

Those were mighty easy orders to give when you weren’t actually inside the vehicle you were commanding to engage in what could best be described as a controlled crash.

But then, Edward thought back to how when he was first getting briefed on his current vehicle, certain parts of the Valkyrie’s schematics that had been redacted. Certain parts of the schematics… like a small cube located in the floor more or less directly beneath his seat... the perfect place to stash a load of explosives if you wanted to make your displeasure towards its pilot clear in the most terminal manner possible.

“I’m sorry General, was experiencing some audio interference, closer to the pillar it is!”

Edward set a course for the pillar.  Well before he reached it, the Valkyrie lurched again as it rapidly lost both altitude and speed.

“We just lost rotor 2, lift capacity down to 33%!”

The Valkyrie had been designed to be capable of brief periods of flight with only a single rotor, but ‘brief’ was the key word.

There was no way that the Valkyrie would be able to generate enough lift to get itself back to Upper Midgar now. One way or another he was going to have to crash-land somewhere in Lower Midgar.

The only question was, did he want to do it after everyone saw him slam his vehicle into the Plate’s support pillar like some kind of suicidal lunatic?

“We’ve just lost rotor 3, lift capacity is at zero! Pilot bailing out!” Edward screamed at the top of his lungs.

He didn’t give General Heidegger a chance to argue or check the system monitor, and he especially didn’t give him a chance to trigger any theoretical self destruct mechanism. Instead, he reached down and yanked the yellow lever located between his legs.

His head was jerked back against his chair as a cylindrical section on the top of the Valkyrie’s chassis was ejected, and a few moments later so was Edward.

CLAAAAAAAANNNGGGG!

The one still functioning rotor slammed into his ejecting chair hard and the next thing Edward knew he was spinning around wildly in midair.

As his chute deployed the world started to make more sense and he was finally able to catch his breath.

The Valkyrie might still end up plowing into some poor soul’s house when it crashed, but it wasn’t going to take out the pillar and thus all of Sector Seven.

As the ship plummeted downwards his eyes began to ever slowly drift in the opposite direction; he really hoped he’d done enough to stop Sephiroth from dropping the Plate…. Getting crushed beneath it seemed like almost as bad a death as being torn apart by a mob of violent terrorists.

XXX XXX XXX

Reno was getting really, really tired of fighting someone who seemed to be too stupid to realize the importance of quitting while you were ahead.

At this point he was fairly sure that he’d never be able to take Kadaj out of the fight with his nightstick. Which meant it was time to get creative.

He retreated back towards the edge of the platform, seeming to brush his jacket clean in the process.

Kadaj pursued him eagerly, trying to keep Reno as far away from the Plate Release System’s terminal as possible.

Click.

Kadaj looked down just in time to realize that the “piece of debris” he’d carelessly stepped on was actually a pyramid mine Reno had just dropped. Three beams of orangish yellow light shot from the sides of the mine, meeting at a point above Kadaj’s head, creating the shape which gave the weapon its name.

Inside the pyramid was an unstable zero point energy field.  While it lasted, nothing inside it was going anywhere ; even gravity was on hold.

“Old age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance...” Reno chuckled to himself, amazed that for once he’d wound up on the former side of that saying.

A quick survey of the situation revealed that the one armed guy and the girl with the gun were still focused on exchanging fire with nearby Shinra helicopters while Rude was keeping the martial arts chick busy. Which meant that it was over; against impossible odds, Reno had somehow managed to win.

How many other people on the Planet had ever managed to defeat General Sephiroth before? Okay, he’d only “defeated” Sephiroth by allowing a couple dozen other people to get themselves gruesomely murdered while Reno completed his mission, but a win was a win!

Yes, his partner seemed to be getting bruises in colors that Reno hadn’t even known existed, but so long as Rude kept his opponent from interfering, he was doing all Reno needed.

For the first time since this entire fiasco had started, Reno was finally able to activate the pillar’s terminal, and thus was able to worry about something other than his own survival.  He shoved his brief twinge of conscious into a deep dark pit and shot it twice in the head; he hadn't fought Sephiroth and Mini-Sephiroth to back out now....

Its screen went from being a void of black to a wall of blue with a few white words spread across it.

“System Update in Progress. 35% complete. Do not turn off this terminal. This may take a while.”

“ F%#kin'... What the f*!kin'. F><k. Who the f$/k f()ked this f+=king... How did those f¿þking f €§ks... FUCK!”

WHAM!

Rude, not traveling at all under his own power, slammed into him. Both Turks went down, leaving Reno gazing into a pair of broken sunglasses.

“Certainly illustrates the diversity of the word.” the martial arts chick admitted as she approached to finish the job.

A red boot descended to crush the life out of them.

Reno and Rude had worked together for years, and that was AFTER being each others’ only friends growing up; the pair had decades of experience at reading each others’ body language. That was the only explanation for how they were able to successfully roll out of the way while tangled up in each others’ limbs.

“Whiskey One, Whiskey Two, this is Whiskey Actual. I am inbound and very disappointed.” The voice spoke in perfect stereo from Reno and Rude’s radios.

A moment later, Sephiroth alighted on the platform, ready to carve the Turks up like a pair of turkeys.

Reno and Rude exchanged one more glance at each other, then their eyes locked on their one chance...

They rolled together once more time and threw themselves under the mangled safety railing’s Reno-shaped indentation

All things considered, they had surprisingly little to fear at the moment; free fall was vastly safer than being anywhere near an angry General Sephiroth.

Rude began to reach into his jacket as Reno got his arms out of the way, allowing the bald Turk to pull out his custom grapple gun.

FSSSSS! CLINK!

The line extended outward, looping around the skids of a Shinra helicopter that had indeed been waiting for them.

“You need to lose some weight.” Rude deadpanned as the pair’s injuries were further exacerbated by the sudden shock of the line pulling taut.

XXX XXX XXX

“The Plate is still in place.” Tseng noted as his two subordinates clambered on-board.

“There’s some sort of computer shit or whatever going on. The system wasn’t up for us to input the release code. How the f**k did that happen?”

“Someone dropped the ball.” Tseng concluded, as if those four words could somehow fully sum up the catastrophe unfolding around him. "Looks like we're down to manual separation..."

All three Turks had been briefed on Shinra’s backup plan: tell everyone involved what their true objective was and use helicopter munitions to damage the Plate’s support pillar to the point that physics would do all the hard work.

“About that... Rude, buddy… why did you join me on the platform?” 

“Sephiroth took out my copter’s rotor, I had to bail out before it crashed.”

Rude must have finally been rubbing off on him, because for once Reno didn’t say anything, just looked long and hard at his commander.

Tseng risked a glance back at the “package” that he’d wound up spending tonight acquiring instead of joining in the battle.

He made his decision.

He reached out and flipped a number of switches to start broadcasting on a range of frequencies… including ones that Avalanche would doubtlessly be listening over by this point.

“This is Tseng, Head of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department, speaking to all Shinra personnel in the area. My agents have disarmed and recovered the device that Avalanche was going to use to destroy the Plate Support Pillar. I repeat, the Sector Seven Plate is no longer in danger. Retreat to your fall back positions and evacuate, mission accomplished.”

Tseng hoped that the men and women who Shinra had seen fit to deploy on this mission had actually been given genuine fall back positions. Considering how many of them would have doubtlessly been left to die if the mission had “truly succeeded”, who knew how little thought General Heidegger might have put into that matter?

Every Shinra trooper who couldn’t get on board a flight capable helicopter, and there were a lot fewer of them in the air than when the assault started, was going to have to find a way to get out of Sector Seven and back to Upper Midgar on foot.

Tseng didn’t like their odds.

But caring about how many many people died wasn’t his job; accomplishing the mission was, and if they couldn’t accomplish the one they’d originally been sent here to do, Shinra would have to settle for a consolation prize.

"So... we completed our official mission and failed our secret one. Are we amazing at our jobs, or awful?” Reno mused.

“Why not both?” the captive Aerith Gainsborough said with a venomous smile.

XXX XXX XXX

Tifa grabbed an assault rifle from a dead trooper and joined Barret and Jessie in seeing the Shinra helicopters off with one last volley of gunfire. Needless to say, rifle rounds fired by a mostly untrained markswoman were unlikely to do much to a helicopter that was probably well outside the weapon’s effective range, but she was determined to send a message all the same.

Shinra was running away.

They’d won .

The sun lamps mounted high on Plate were starting to glow brighter as artificial night gave way to equally artificial day.

Seventh Heaven was going to live to see another day; Shinra didn’t get to just destroy her home and everything she cared about on a whim…she felt like she was awakening from a five year long nightmare

She’d gotten stronger, and it had meant something…

“It was us! We did this!” Tifa shouted her triumph at the top of her lungs, daring Shinra to change their mind, to turn back around and face her again.

She’d never thought faux sunlight could look so beautiful.

XXX XXX XX

“A free round at Seventh Heaven to anyone with a gun!” Tifa called out to the crowd of people milling around uncertainly at the bottom of the support pillar.

Before she knew it, the crowd swarmed around her, lifting her joyously into the air. She wasn’t the only one, either; the crowd seemed determined to carry all of Avalanche back to her bar.

Well, all of Avalanche except for Sephiroth; he kept his distance and judiciously employed That Thing With His Eyes on anyone who came too close.

Giving away free drinks wasn't usually Tifa's style... but it wasn't going to put her out of business, and if ever there was a time for catharsis, this was it. Judging by how many dead bodies she’d seen, Shinra had left a small fortune in slightly used army surplus behind in the wake of their failed attack. 

The people of Sector Seven might get tired of eating monster meat, but they weren’t going to be lacking in guns to hunt them with any time soon, and all those crashed helicopters could yield more scrap than they knew what to do with.

Shinra had tried to destroy Sector Seven… and all they’d ended up doing was turn it into the best-armed  sector in Lower Midgar!

XXX XXX XXX

Barret’s feelings of invincible euphoria lasted only as long as it took for the crowd to carry him back to Seventh Heaven. Once he got there, he discovered something new to fear.

“Where the hell is Marlene?” he roared upon discovering that there was no sign of his daughter.

A short and increasingly frantic search revealed no sign of her, she wasn’t in her room in the back, nor was she hiding in the bar’s secret basement.

“Barret, calm down, one of our friends is looking after her.” Tifa tried to reassure him.

“Which friend?”

“Her name is Aerith, she lives in Sector Five.”

Barret didn’t spend as much time working in Seventh Heaven as Tifa did, but that name didn’t sound like any of their regulars or Avalanche’s well established allies.

He could feel a mixture of fear and anger building within him; part of him wanted to tell Tifa that she had no right to make decisions about how to keep his daughter safe. What if Marlene had ended up having been attacked by Shinra goons or monsters while she was with this Aerith woman?

He tamped that instinct down with a deep breath and a reminder of what might have happened to Marlene if Avalanche had failed. She’d either have died when the Plate fell, or worse been left buried alive in their basement to await an even crueler death. No, getting Marlene out of Sector Seven had been the smart call; who could have expected a miracle would save the sector?

“Alright," he growled. Took a deep breath.

"Alright," he tried again, his voice still tight, but considerably more level. "Good call. Thanks. Let's... Let's go pick 'er up. Your friend was headed home?”

“Your answering machine is blinking!” Kadaj said, either eager to show he’d been listening to Tifa, or just easily distracted by blinky lights..

Barret briefly worried he might break the machine with how forcefully he slammed the “replay new messages” button.

“Mr. Barret Wallace?” The recorded voice sounded unsure, but not exactly afraid.

“My name is Elmyra Gainsborough. This is all… very complicated. Your daughter was dropped off at my house. I’ve already met a friend of yours, a tall man with silver hair. He can tell you how to find me. I’ll do my best to keep her safe until then, I promise.” The call concluded.

“So does your friend Aerith have another friend named Elmyra?” Barret sighed.

“Elmyra is Aerith’s mother." Sephiroth at first seemed content to leave the matter at that, but as Barret turned away, he volunteered "If Marlene is with her, she is indeed safe."

From a man as aloof and taciturn as Sephiroth, the extra words were a surprising, but welcome, show of compassion. Barret gave him a gruff, grateful nod, but his improving mood derailed when Tifa abruptly asked another question.

“But why didn’t Aerith call us herself?”

“She didn’t have mako eyes like us, maybe she was so tired she fell asleep after she got Marlene back to her home?” Kadaj ventured awkwardly.

“A good point, but not quite the one you were trying to make.” Sephiroth replied, already heading for the door. “Aerith isn't like us. How could she have parted ways with us right after we came out of the sewers, but reached Sector Five before we made it back here? Especially if she had a young child in tow? No… something happened to her.”

“Well then, I guess we’re gonna find out what.” Barret vowed; if somebody had gotten in trouble helping his daughter get to safety, then he was going to get them out of that trouble or die trying.

XXX XXX XXX

Tseng looked around room B3 at his two fellow Turks. They knew what he was going to say, it was a blindingly obvious truth that none of them could deny, and yet he felt the need to say it anyway.

"The man who held this position before me felt like this possibility was one that we would never have to worry about. He was a great man, but he had a weakness; he refused to prepare for the worst, possible, situation . I learned much from the example he set... including how to avoid his mistakes.

“I might have hoped that this day would never come, but I faced my fears head on rather than hid from them. Reno, Rude, we’ve all spent years preparing for this exact situation, even if we were forced to do so in secret, because to openly name our concerns us would make us all traitors

“The folders before you contain all the relevant information and your orders. Whatever happens tomorrow, let none say that today found us unprepared. Initiate plan APS."

End Chapter

AN: Wow, so this really quickly turned into “Mook Horror Show” the chapter didn’t it?

Side note, Reno’s fight with Sephiroth was deliberately patterned on a movie scene, can any of you guess which one?

If you were curious, in real life most knockout gasses are currently non-flammable (for that matter real life knockout gasses just flat out don’t work the way Rude’s attack in the remake does) but many of the ones we previously used were very much capable of combustion in the right circumstances, so assume Shinra isn’t letting a little thing like user safety get in the way of a good chemical weapon.

Chapter 14: Divine is the daughter, the dream that you sell, you built up your heaven, on the back of hell….

With Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie taking care of Seventh Heaven, the rest of Avalanche set out for Sector Five. Sephiroth was moving with his usual quiet stoicism, Barret seemed to be equal parts angry and worried, and then there was Kadaj….

Tifa had known him for only a few days, and yet could already tell there was something wrong with Kadaj. Sephiroth’s younger brother was keeping his head tilted downwards, watching each and every step he took instead of trying to take in what was going on around him.

That would have been odd enough in Sector Seven, but they were moving into parts of Sector Six he’d never visited before, and eventually, they’d reach Sector Five, which would be entirely new to him.

So why wasn’t Kadaj displaying his customary neophilia?

“Something bothering you?” She eventually flat out asked.

“I’m sorry...” Kadaj’s voice was practically a whisper.

“For…?”

Kadaj slowly raised his eyes to meet hers.

“I got caught in that weird pyramid trap; I lost. I failed. If, if whatever that blue screen thing was, hadn’t happened… Sector Seven would have been destroyed. Some hero, right ?”

Tifa winced. She’d been trying hard not to think about that particular possibility, focusing on the euphoria of victory rather than what defeat would have meant.

She wasn’t afraid to die fighting Shinra, but being crushed under the Plate, watching it happen to all of Sector Seven alongside her…. Well, suffice to say, some deaths were better than others.

“Kadaj, you need to understand that what happened, happened because of all of us, not just you. It happened because Sephiroth, Barret, and Jessie were busy dealing with helicopters; it happened because I was busy kicking the crap out of that bald Turk… and it happened the way it did because someone else out there hacked the Plate release system for long enough that the Turks couldn’t use it. Avalanche isn’t about what any of us can do; it’s about what all of us can do.”

“You were winning your fight, though...” Kadaj sulked.

“Yeah, because I’ve spent the last five years of my life preparing for this, getting myself physically and mentally ready fighting Shinra. Telling myself again and again that if I didn’t look out for myself, no one else would.  As cliche as it sounds… isn’t this your first week on the job as a revolutionary?”

“It’s also my first year in general, if that counts for anything?”

It was probably going to be longer than that before Tifa stopped being weirded out by the fact that Kadaj was younger than Marlene.

“Training counts for a lot. If you want, once we get some downtime; I can give you a few pointers. I may not know much about how to wield a sword, but footwork and situational awareness are important, no matter how you fight.”

“I’d like that, a lot. Reno managed to disarm me, too, so it’d be awesome if I could actually know what I’m doing if that happens again!” Kadaj agreed, enthusiasm slowly returning to his voice.

“Kadaj, when you fought Reno one on one, were you still using that same grip that I saw you using in the Sector Eight reactor?”  Sephiroth’s voice drifted back over his shoulder.

“Yeah…. why?”  Kadaj’s voice held the uncertain tones of a child who knew they’d just done something wrong, but couldn’t for the life of them figure out what.

Sephiroth and Master Zangan were profoundly different people and, to Tifa’s knowledge, had never exchanged more than a couple of words.  All the same, that sharp inhalation and long, slow, exhalation cast her back to her first day of training, when Zangan had seen her make a fist by curling her fingers around her thumb..

XXX XXX XXX

Reeve had gotten the best night’s sleep of his life.

Still, all good things must come to an end. Approximately five seconds passed between his eyes opening and him grabbing his PHS. A top of the line model, it was more than capable of keeping track of news bulletins while he’d slept. A quick scan revealed exactly what he’d been hoping to find.

“Shinra SOLDIERs Stop Savage Avalanche Attack, Sector Seven Saved, Plate Plummet Prevented, Terrorist Threat Thwarted!” It was a late-breaking story, the kind that meant editors didn’t get a chance to restrain the staff’s more enthusiastic members.

Reeve put down the PHS.

His mouth felt weird .

He got out of bed and a few minutes later checked himself in the mirror, like he always did just before heading out the door.

His reflection looked weird .

For the first time in years, Reeve left his house with a smile on his face.

XXX XXX XXX

Elmyra wished she could find a way to sleep, but she’d given up hope of that a while ago.  She wasn’t even in her bed at this point; she was sitting in a chair in her living room looking at two pictures- one of her late husband, and one of her daughter.  She wasn’t quite sure how long she’d been sitting there; she couldn’t bring herself to look away from those pictures. 

WHAM WHAM WHAM!

When someone knocked on your door, you answered it. Doing something that simple was about the limit of Elmyra’s capabilities at the moment.

An instant after opening the door, she was nearly bowled over by a massive bear of a man.

“You’re Elmyra Gainsborough, right?  You helped save my daughter?” her ‘guest’ seemed to be equal parts grateful and frightened.

“Barret.” An unfamiliar female voice called out from behind the man.

“Sorry. I'm Barret Wallace. Marlene's my little girl. Marlene, she's got short hair. She's cute as a button, with the heart of an angel. She was wearing... Uh...pink! She was wearing a pink dress today!” the man half babbled.

“She’s upstairs, sleeping…” Elmyra wished she could have found more joy in Barret’s sudden, almost-blinding smile.

He started to race up the stairs with speed that Elmyra would never have expected him capable of, his boots thundering with every step.

“I said she was sleeping!”

He balked, then resumed climbing, this time as if the house wasn’t on fire.  A big man with big boots could only be so quiet, but at least he was trying, now.

Her other three late-night arrivals proved to be General Sephiroth, a woman and a young man.

“Thank you for letting us in so late at night.  Mrs. Gainsborough, this is Tifa Lockhart and my brother, Kadaj.” Sephiroth introduced them.

“I’m… I’m glad that I could help put your friend’s mind at ease, but… while his daughter is safe and sound… Shinra has mine.” Elmyra could feel her eyes growing damp as she spoke.

“ Explain. ” It was strange how Elmyra found something comforting in Sephiroth’s cold and emotionless tone.

No, not emotionless, near - emotionless . Most people let anger rage through them like a fire; Sephiroth compacted his down into a tiny little ball… and made it burn all the hotter.

“She showed up a while ago with that young girl. She told me to look after her, to call her father, and that she had to go do something very important for Shinra. We hugged… and then… she left.”

“I’m sorry, I'm the one who asked her to look after Marlene. I thought that it was the best way to keep both of them safe... but instead, she wound up in even more danger.,.” Tifa apologized.

“No, it’s my fault. Shinra must have captured her to try and lure me out into some sort of trap...” Sephiroth insisted.

Elmyra began to shake her head, a paradoxical mixture of sob and laugh escaping her throat.

“This… this wasn’t any of your faults. Shinra has been after my daughter for over a decade.”

“ What? ” A trio of voices chorused in surprise.

Elmyra sunk back into the chair; this story was going to be hard enough to tell while sitting down.

“Aerith isn’t my daughter, not by blood. It all started fifteen years ago. My husband was a trooper who’d been sent to Wutai, but I’d gotten a letter from him saying that he was finally about to get some leave. So, every day I’d go to the train station and wait for him to see if today was the day he’d arrive.

"I never saw him, but one day, I noticed two people who looked to be even worse off than I was. It was a woman and her daughter. The woman had been shot more times than I could count, and her clothing was barely holding itself together.

“The child wasn’t hurt, though, but she was afraid. So very afraid. The way she was crouched over her mother’s body… she was like a wild animal. The moment I got close to her, took her in my arms, though, she was just the sweetest little girl I could ever imagine.

"I took her in and I thought that would be the end of it… who knows how many orphans there are in Midgar, why should anyone care if I adopted one of them in?

"Except that less than a month later, there was a knock at my door. There was a man there in a sharp blue suit with slick black hair...”

“And a dot on his forehead.” Sephiroth finished for her.

Elmyra took a few steadying breaths.

“Yes. He said his name was Tseng and that he was with the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department. That Aerith was an Ancient. That she had amazing powers and could use them to help make the world a better place.”

“What’s an Ancient?” Kadaj interrupted.

“I’ll explain later.” Sephiroth shushed him.

“Whatever it was that Shinra wanted my daughter for, it seemed to be something they could only get from her willingly. That’s the only reason I can think of why Tseng or someone else didn’t just snatch her in the middle of the night, or even right off the street.

“Did she… did she show any signs of actually being an Ancient?” Sephiroth’s tone was soft, almost reverent.

“One day, out of the blue, she came up to me and told me not to be sad. I asked her why I should be sad, and she told me that she’d felt my husband die… but it was okay because he’d also just become one with the Planet.

“A few days later, I got the letter about him being killed in action… and Aerith had spoken to me within minutes of his exact time of death. I don’t know what it really means to be an Ancient, but that wasn’t the only time she behaved strangely either… strangely, but never mean or dangerously.

“She deserves better than this, but since they can only get what they want if she’s willing... that's means...even if they did take her away; I'm sure she's being treated like an honored guest... And that they'll send her straight back home once they get what they need.”

“Do you really believe that?” Sephiroth’s voice was so hard to read- was that pity?  Scorn?  Both?

“What the hell else can I believe? That Shinra is going to keep my daughter locked up in a cell for the rest of her life for the crime of being born different?!” Elmyra wished she had some way to properly express her rage, even if it was just throwing something small and easily breakable.

“You can believe that we’re gonna get your daughter back.” Barret answered as he descended the stairs.

Elmyra’s fingers twitched uncertainly.

“I didn’t hear everything, but I heard enough. Your baby girl put everything she had on the line to keep mine safe; that puts me pretty damn deep in debt to her, and I settle my debts.”

“You’re just going to end up making things worse than they already are…” Elmyra wished that she could trust these people to save her daughter, but a lifetime in Lower Midgar had taught her that mystical saviors didn’t just drop out of the sky to solve your problems.

“Worse than they already are? You heard any reports about what happened in Sector Seven? Well, here’s the real truth with no Shinra bullshit: it wasn’t Avalanche trying to drop the plate; we were defending it, defending it against Shinra.  They were set to murder 10,000 of their own people in Upper Midgar, to kill off the 50,000 beneath them.

“Why?

“All to take out an Avalanche cell so small that over half of it’s standing in front of you! Shinra will burn Midgar to the ground to rule over the ashes, just like how they’ll suck the Planet dry to be kings of the dust!

“There’s only one way this thing is gonna end; Shinra kicked the rocks, so they can reap the Avalanche.”

XXX XXX XXX

“So, how exactly are we going to get into Upper Midgar to rescue Aerith?” Kadaj inquired with all the zeal of a fresh convert.

Barret took in the question with a pensive frown, his fervor subsiding as he mulled it over.

“Any trains Shinra plans on running to Upper Midgar will be so stuffed with SOLDIERs on guard duty they’ll barely have room for passengers. They might even have people planting bombs in the tunnels to cave ‘em in if we try to just walk along the rails. They’d love to have something else to blame us for.” He sighed.

“No riding on a train, no walking the tracks, the support pillars are all going to be on total lockdown as well...” Tifa fumed, her hands clenching into impotent fists.

“I have an idea.”

Once again, Sephiroth was on his way out the door by the time he’d finished speaking..

XXX XXX XXX

Despite his normally iron-clad morning routine, Reeve had somehow forgotten to do one important thing… check what time it actually was.

That was why he arrived at Shinra HQ at 7:00 in the morning, while most people lucky enough to have a house in the coveted “Inner Ring” of Midgar and worked 9 to 5 jobs were still fast asleep.

It didn’t bother him, though. Nothing could bother him today; not even the realization that since his secretary hadn’t clocked in yet, he’d have to fill his own coffee mug.

To Reeve’s surprise, he discovered that he wasn’t the only one making an early morning run on Shinra HQ’s coffee machines; he was further surprised by the identity of his fellow caffeine enthusiast.

“Pardon me, Mr. Mayor.” Reeve greeted Thomas Domino warmly, though the elderly statesman’s face remained downcast. 

“Thanks for noticing me.” sighed Mayor Domino.

“Something wrong with the coffee machines on the 62 nd floor?” 

“Now that you mention it, yes.” Domino punctuated the comment with a long gulp from his mug.

“Well, hopefully, the building services people will have it repaired before long.” Reeve struggled to maintain his upbeat mood in the face of Domino’s dour aura.

“You’d certainly think so; I filed the repair request over a month ago.”

“I could file another repair request for you as soon as I get back to my office?” Reeve awkwardly offered.

“That would be much appreciated, Director.” Midgar’s mayor said, stuffing his pockets with prepackaged creamers.

Reeve didn’t have the heart to ask.

XXX XXX XXX

“This is unexpected...” Sephiroth noted in irritation as he gazed at the “closed” sign hanging outside Madame M’s Massage Parlor.

A part of him was annoyed at himself for even being surprised; since he hadn’t seen any staff during his visit with Aerith, it made sense that the place would be closed whenever its owner was sleeping.  In another surprise that shouldn’t have been, Madame M seemed to keep a sleeping schedule that was decidedly nocturnal in nature. He was definitely getting sloppy...

“I hate to say it, but if this means we get a chance to sleep before we have to take on Shinra HQ, there are worse things....” Tifa slumped against the parlor’s facade, stifling a yawn.

Barret caught the look in Sephiroth’s eye and spoke up.  “Much as I’m lookin’ forward to kickin’ in Shinra’s front door… I don’t see where we’ve got much choice.  Your contact ain’t here, we’re all tired enough to miss a step… hell, your kid brother’s still putting himself back together.  Ain’t what we hoped for, but we gotta make the most of it.” 

“Don’t worry about me; I’m ready to fight!  I barely use that hand, anyway.  Besides… I can’t remember any stories where the brave hero pauses to grab a nap before rescuing the damsel in distress...”  Kadaj seemed to be making a valiant effort to convince himself of his own words.

Looking out at the rest of Avalanche, Sephiroth could see the slight droop to their eyes, the small touches of lethargy in their actions.  Not only that, but given how he’d only had two hours of genuine sleep since leaving to attack the Sector Five Reactor, Sephiroth knew that even he was starting to fall victim to a slowly building sense of fatigue. He’d chided Aerith about how important sleep was; now events seemed to have conspired to hand him a chance to get some on a gold platter.

There was nothing they could do right now other than try to get some rest before the next battle, so why did he feel like doing so would be betraying Aerith? It wasn’t like he’d pushed himself to stay awake constantly in preparation for POW rescue operations during the war, after all. But then, no Shinra POW had ever faced the kind of treatment Hojo was going to give Aerith...

Sephiroth continued to kick the question around in his head, trying to audit his brain, make it tell him why exactly it had chosen to behave so strangely.  Why did he feel compelled to ascend back into the hell from which he had been so eager to escape as a child?  What did he think was going to happen in the next few hours, that made every passing minute feel like a failure??  

It was objectively irrational.  Dissected at a distance, his feelings about the lab, his overwhelming sense of revulsion, had been formed by over a decade of traumatic experience.  Contemptible as Hojo was, the man was methodical, almost predictable.  Nothing was going to happen in the next few hours that would justify his clenched fists, his pounding pulse, or the whispers of blood and fire, shattered glass and mangled chrome, that were flickering around the edges of his thoughts..

It was objectively irrational.  It was unproductive.  And clearly, it wasn’t going anywhere as long as one of his people was in that lab.

Deprived of reasonable alternatives, Sephiroth resigned himself to the feeling.  Even so, there was nothing to be gained by disturbing the troops.

“Yes Kadaj, it’s safe to sleep for the moment.  Though we’ll want to do this in shifts, with one of us staying awake.” If he could force himself to sleep, he would.  If he couldn’t… no need to let on.  It’d only worry the others, anyway..

Barret and Kadaj joined them, and after a short discussion, it was soon decided that Sephiroth would take the first shift while the other three slept.

“So what are Ancients? Why is Aerith being one important?” Kadaj, alas, had other ideas.

On the other hand, it was his choice to forgo sleep, and Sephiroth was unlikely to wind up with this much free time on his hands for a while.

“Kadaj, you and I, and everyone else on this planet, we’re humans. The SOLDIER treatments we were given in the womb and others were given as adolescents allow us to do things that other people can’t, but we’re still humans, albeit faster, stronger, tougher, more magically capable humans.

“Humans weren’t the first intelligent beings to live on this planet, though. Before us, there was another race, known as the ‘Ancients’.” 

“’Course they didn’t call themselves ‘Ancients’ back then; they called themselves the ‘Cetra’.” Barret cut in.

Sephiroth was mildly surprised, both that Avalanche’s leader had decided to forgo a chance at slumber and at how knowledgeable he was on the topic.

“That’s correct. The Cetra came to this world from somewhere else, although we don’t know where, how, or why..”

“If they’d flown here in the sort of spaceships Shinra used to work on in Rocket Town, we should have found their remains somewhere...”  Barret said.

“Would you prefer to take over? My knowledge of the Cetra comes from a reliable source, but it is a few decades old.”  Sephiroth offered.

“Nah, I’m fine with hearing what you got to say on the topic. Everything I learned in college about the Ancients was the same stuff Shinra told to everybody getting a minor in Ancient Studies, so there’s plenty of it that I don’t trust.”

“You went to college?” It seemed even Tifa wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet.

“How about we focus on the Ancients for right now?” Barret grumbled.

“The Ancients were able to display one ability that no SOLDIER, not even me, has ever been able to replicate: an innate capacity to talk with the Planet itself,”  Sephiroth said.

“Which would explain how this girl was able to know when her foster father died; she’s got a direct hotline to the Lifestream,”  Barret concluded.

Sephiroth inclined his head, “Which, in turn, brings us to why Shinra would want her so badly. Being able to talk to the Lifestream means that she has access to all the knowledge of everyone who came before. She could help Shinra recover secrets of dead scientists like Professor Gast Faremis…”  

“Or pick the brains of their dead enemies. A Wutain general drops dead of a heart attack and Aerith might be able to find out enough to win a war before it even started! Then there’s the Promised Land...”  Barret said.

“Promised Land?” Sephiroth shook his head..“From what I’d read, the Promised Land was the final destination of the Cetra’s journey from one planet to the next. It’s another planet out in space, not somewhere on this world...”

“Well, that’s not the way Shinra tells it these days. ‘Unto her Promised Land shall we one day return. By her loving grace and providence may we take our place in paradise.’ Far as I can tell, Shinra thinks it’s some sorta land of mako and honey.” 

“Because those up top at Shinra know the truth, that sooner or later they’ll run out of mako unless they find a new supply...” Puzzle pieces were falling into place in Sephiroth’s head.

“Whichever reason it is, Shinra won’t risk seriously hurting her, so that gives us a chance to break in and rescue her!”

None of them argued with Kadaj’s conclusions.

XXX XXX XXX

Aerith blinked her eyes open and looked around.

She was in a strange transparent container that had to be roughly ten to fifteen feet wide. Her nose was filled with the cloying chemical smell of antiseptic. Everywhere she looked was either see-through glass or silvery metal support structure keeping her in.

Her hands were bound in shiny shackles connected by a series of interlocking chains to the floor itself; even if the transparent walls of her prison were opened, she still wouldn’t be able to get very far.

That would have been bad enough on its own… but after a few moments, she realized something even worse.

She was alone .

For the first time in her life, she was alone.

No matter how hard Aerith tried to hear the voice of the Planet, she couldn’t.

She was alone. So terribly, terribly, alone .

WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP!

The noise came from behind her; spinning to face it, she saw a familiar red-haired man in a blue suit, banging on the glass with an exaggerated, almost manic grin.

Aerith had never been so glad to see a Turk in all her life. She got as close to him as she could; the chains seemed to be exactly the right length so that she couldn’t quite reach the edge of her prison.

“Welcome to Chateau de Shinra; my name is Reno, I will be your waiter. Here we serve only the finest of vending machine and commissary products. Or if my lady is of a more discriminating palate, food from the finest of five-star restaurants in Upper Midgar can be provided.” He announced with a gracious bow.

“This is no time for jokes! You do realize that...” Aerith could already feel sparks of rage igniting at him making light of her imprisonment.

SLAP!

Reno firmly pressed a piece of paper flat against the side of Aerith’s container. It was a menu.

“For your dining pleasure, I took time to highlight the most expensive items. This meal is, of course, completely on the house.”

Aerith took a moment to examine the menu.

“I don’t have a clue what most of these actually are, let alone how to pronounce them...” She admitted ruefully.

“Would you perhaps care for pasta al nero di malboro, or perhaps a zolom steak? I’ve heard people have been moved to tears by the taste, or at least by the bill.”

Aerith was about to ask Reno exactly what a “zolom” was, when the room abruptly came alive.

She’d thought that the silence that she’d originally woken up to was bad, but this noise was worse. Over Reno’s shoulder, she could see half a dozen different machines starting to move around, including a pair of large clamps that vaguely resembled arms.

Monitor after monitor sprung to life, and they each displayed the exact same gaunt face that bore faint touches of five o’clock shadow, and glasses that seemed to have been designed for the express purpose of making it impossible to see the eyes behind them.

It was a face that Aerith had seen in her nightmares for over a decade.

Professor Hojo gazed out at Aerith from countless security monitors. Being the subject of his gaze once was already twice more than she felt comfortable with… and now there was a score of bespectacled eyes focusing in on her.

“Good morning, Professor Hojo!” Reno greeted the head of Shinra’s Science and Research Department with his traditional laid-back air of “you might be able to kill me, fire me or cut my pay, but you’ll never make me take this job seriously.”

“Reno, what are you doing here?” Hojo demanded.

“Hey, that’s Vice Turk Commander Reno, to you!”

There was exactly one thing standing between Aerith and having the full attention of Professor Hojo; timidity would win her nothing.

“Reno, you got promoted? When did this happen?” Aerith gushed as if she and the Turk were alone in the room.

Reno, for his part, played along, turning his vastly more welcome gaze back to her.

“That’s right, Commander of Vice; Shinra knows talent when they see it! I’m surprised I didn’t mention it to you sooner; we really don’t talk often enough. I was gonna brag about it back in the church, but something must have made it slip my mind.” Reno rambled on with the practiced ease of a man who could hold a conversation with gun pressed to forehead, regardless of whose forehead and whose gun were involved.

“My laboratory is no place for idle chit chat!” Hojo hissed through the speaker arrays.

“Vice Commander Reno, you will either explain your presence now, or you will explain it later to President Shinra himself!”

Reno turned around again, fished in his uniform, and pulled out a thick stack of documents.

“Professor Hojo, do you know what the acronym TTD stands for? I ask in a technical sense of course; in my off hours, it stands for ‘There’s The Door’, an expression any number of women, bartenders, bookies, and informants have found useful.  And please, call me Reno.”

“Why don’t you enlighten me...” As Hojo spoke, a mechanical arm moved closer, looking like it would love to close around Reno and crush the life out of him.

“You don’t know? The Science and Research Department seriously is falling behind in its paperwork. It stands for ‘Tested To Destruction’; in theory, it’s something that is only supposed to happen on purpose. Now, I don’t have to tell a great scientist like you that theory and reality are, alas, not always in perfect agreement. In my position as a member of The Shinra Mako and Electric Power Company’s Auditing Department, I recently discovered that the subjects you take a personal interest in are 70% more likely to wind up being reported as ‘TTD’ when all is said and done.

Since you manufacture most of those subjects yourself, it’s hardly my place to raise a fuss if a pile of dead octo-parrots gets shoved into the incinerator every so often. But this one though, this Ancient is different...” As Reno spoke, he turned around and tapped on Aerith’s container once more.

“Because of the flaws in your security procedures, her mother was mortally wounded while escaping and this Ancient successfully vanished into Lower Midgar for over a decade. If something happens to her, do you have any spare Ancients laying around?” Reno began to do a faux inspection of the lab, his movements mockingly exaggerated.

“As you pointed out, that was over a decade ago; I have had more than enough time to redesign my security procedures to make sure she will not escape!”

“You say that, but I can’t help but notice you’re not in the room right now. If you were truly certain that this lab was one hundred percent escape-proof, I imagine you’d be here in person.

So, additional steps must be taken to insure that Shinra’s newest Ancient remains hale, healthy, and properly confined. That is why the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department generously offered our services, and in turn, President Shinra wisely accepted our offer.

It seems he feels that the company can always find a new head scientist, but… not to belabor the point, has only the one Ancient.” Reno knocked on Aerith’s container yet again, either for emphasis or luck.

Professor Hojo was using some extremely high-quality monitors; Aerith could tell because she was able to see the rage building upon his face with every word Reno spoke.

“You… you… I have a task for you, Reno.  A very important task.” Hojo eventually managed to seethe out through gritted teeth.

“I will have my rank from you, sir!  That’s ‘Assistant Director Reno, if you please!”  Reno’s facade of theatrical indignation didn’t so much as waver in the face of Hojo’s sputtering rage.

“Vice commander, assistant director, whatever you are, I still outrank you!  Vice President Shinra’s newest bodyguard just completed his final treatments and is now ready to serve. He’s currently waiting in the Senior Employee Lounge; I want you to make sure that he is familiarized with this building. You should be aware that he had an… adverse reaction to some of our earlier procedures, so he is not to be brought into my laboratory for ANY reason.”

Reno sat down in front of Aerith’s containment pod and pulled out his phone.

“As flattered as I am by hearing you think I’m the only man capable of briefing the Vice President’s bodyguard, allow me to introduce you to this thing we in, or at least vaguely associated with the military, call the chain of command. It is not, as many civilians guess, simply a chain that someone gets beaten with until they agree the person holding said chain is in command….”

Reno proceeded to deliver a monologue so rambling that it should have come with a map and so long that it deserved an intermission.

The abridged version of it was that, while Professor Hojo might outrank Reno, he was nonetheless not in a position to actually give him orders. Thus, until he received a message from someone who was, he planned to make himself at home in Hojo’s lab.

While Reno was expounding at length, Hojo pulled out his phone and began to mash buttons on it with a ferocity that made Aerith wonder if he might end up cracking its screen. Eventually, there was a soft chime from Reno’s phone, and he picked it up.

“Huh, would you look at that? General Gyah-Hah-Hah himself has orders for me, cosigned by our beloved President no less. Guess I had better get to work.” He sighed, sounding a great deal less upset about the news than Aerith felt.

She could only sit there and watch as her knight in a rumpled suit sauntered out of the door, leaving her completely alone with Professor Hojo.

Aerith clenched her fists and steeled her nerves; she would not surrender to despair, not yet.

“Don’t forget to order me a zolom steak!” she called out after him.

“Sure thing, sis!” Reno promised as he crossed the threshold of Hojo’s lab.

She heard the sound of one hand slapping joyfully against another.

Less than five seconds after a Turk in a rumpled suit left Hojo’s lab, a Turk in an immaculately clean one entered it.

Rude walked up to Aerith’s container and rapped a hand against it, almost perfectly mirroring the behavior Reno had displayed before.

“Fail safe or fail secure?” Rude inquired in his normal stoic tone.

“What are you talking about?”

“This containment pod. Does it fail safe or fail secure?”

“What does it matter? This is Shinra HQ! We get priority power from all eight reactors and… other backup systems! There is NO CHANCE of us losing power!” Hojo scoffed.

“Six reactors.  Fail safe or fail secure?”

Hojo glared at Rude.

Rude just stood there, one set of eyes hidden behind lenses trying to pierce an equally concealed pair.

“Fail secure.” Hojo finally conceded.

Rude’s eyebrows shot upwards in an expression of, perhaps not quite genuine, shock so great that even his sunglasses couldn’t hide it.

“Fail... secure?” He repeated the words as if doubting he’d heard them correctly.

“Section 5 Paragraph 3 of the Shinra company policy relating to the containment of high value living assets.” As Rude spoke, he pulled out his phone and started typing away on it.

A moment later, there was a soft “bing” from his device and a veritable cascade chimes resulting from Hojo’s phone receiving a message with the telltale tone being broadcast through multiple screens.

Hojo pulled out his phone, started reading, then lowered the device, his scowl deepening.

“You can’t be serious.” He huffed.

“Company policy. The Ancient should be kept in a manner of containment rated ‘fail safe’ in case of an accident. Do you have a fail safe container?”

“Of course I don’t! Do you realize how dangerous most of the specimens I deal with are? How dangerous this one could be if she broke free? Keeping them in a fail safe containment system would be inviting disaster!”

“I thought there was no chance of this building losing power?”

XXX XXX XXX

With a wide smile on his face, Reno tapped out a message on his phone as he strolled through the halls of Shinra HQ.

“Boss, U R on deck.”

If Hojo wanted to play bureaucratic hardball or start making backroom promises to the other department heads to get the Turks off his back, well, more power to him.

The Professor would be personally shining Heidegger’s medals by the time that he managed to get Rude out of his greasy hair, and all he’d accomplish was bringing Tseng up to the plate.

Tseng was impossibly good at being a Turk and normally kept what felt like an impossibly tight leash on his subordinates… which was why Reno was really enjoying seeing what happened now that Commander Wet Blanket had finally decided to join in the fun.

Reno’s behavior typically amounted to a dozen tiny acts of disrespect but this, this made him feel like a rank amateur. There was nothing slapdash or spur of the moment about Tseng’s cross-departmental sabotage. Boss had put the word out that Hojo wasn’t going to get a moment alone with their favorite florist until President Shinra himself came down on the “Aerith Protection Squad”, so that was exactly what would happen.

The trick to keeping the entire thing running was that Reno should offload whatever task he was given in less time than it took Hojo to come up with and gain permission to assign a task to Rude. Complicating that plan was when he entered the Senior Employee Lounge, there was no sign of Vice President Shinra’s new bodyguard.

The only other occupant of the room was a freaky-looking dog.

Not that he hadn’t seen weird dogs inside Shinra HQ before, of course. The Science Department’s work in the field of canine steroids had yielded some truly impressive results; as long as you didn’t care about a few “minor” side effects, like how the ones who didn’t die in battle inevitably keeled over from heart attacks within two years of starting their treatments.

Luckily, Reno had spent most of his life learning how not to care about the suffering of Shinra’s other human employees, so ignoring the plight of animals came fairly easily to him.

Still, even compared to Shinra’s other combat and security breeds, this one was a freak among freaks. It was about half again as large as most of those dogs, was practically fur-less, and its entire body was crisscrossed with visibly glowing blue veins, while its eyes looked more bloodshot than Reno’s after a hard night of drinking. Its tail was just a small misshapen nub, but it made up for that lack with a tentacle roughly twice the length of its body growing from its back.

Around its neck was a massive spiked collar, and its body was draped in more chains than Reno would expect to see anywhere other than an S&M parlor… or bike shop.

The dog took one look at Reno and huffed in derision, which to be fair, was the greeting Reno got from a lot of people. Still, the Turk had better things to do than spend all day waiting for some new big-shot bodyguard to show up.

“I’ve made it to the Senior Employee Lounge, but there’s no sign of Rufus’ new bodyguard, just his pet, and it looks like one mean son of a bitch.” He reported through his radio.

If he had to do Hojo’s bidding, then at least it gave him an excuse to frequently report back in and distract the professor.

“Dark Nation IS Vice President Rufus’ new bodyguard, you simpleton! Also, he does not like to be referred to as an ‘it’. He is more intelligent, more obedient, better paid, and has a higher security clearance than you!”

“Huh, ‘he’ it is then.” Reno had questions about being paid less than a dog, but that was no excuse for misgendering his coworkers.

Besides, far be it for him to insult a guy with teeth that big.

XXX XXX XXX

“Good afternoon, Madam M.” Sephiroth greeted the masseuse as she returned to open her shop.

“You’re here about the favor, aren’t you? Keep in mind it was one .” She noted,sizing up his companions.

“I haven’t forgotten; one will be enough. I want you to show us how Don Corneo keeps in touch with Shinra.”

“What makes you think he has some kind of secret channel to contact Shinra?”

“The part where he admitted to working with them!” Kadaj answered without a moment’s hesitation.

Madame M’s fan snapped shut.

“It’s funny… you think I would have gotten tired of covering for his fat ass sooner. That said, there’s no way we can access the ‘channel’ without everyone in Don Corneo Mansion being aware of it so…”

XXX XXX XXX

CRASH!

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!"

CRASH!

"WOOAAAAAAH!"

CRASH

"UAAAAAA!"

“Hi Leslie, my older brother’s having a defenestration special; are you interested?”

“I think I’ll just see myself out...”

“Cool, cool.  Hey, by the way, have you ever had a guy in a black robe beg you for a ‘reunion’ before?  Do they do that to everyone with silver hair, or just me?”

XXX XXX XXX

It didn’t take the four of them that long to run out of people who objected to their presence, though surprisingly, there was no sign of the mansion’s owner himself. It seemed that Avalanche’s previous infiltration of the place had sent him fleeing to someplace more secure, less obvious, or both.

“This is how Don Corneo kept in touch with Shinra without anyone realizing it or creating any sort of digital footprint.” Madam M explained, gesturing to a long thin pole strewn with wires.

“It’s a utility pole. The doctors taught me about them because they need to be protected. Mako reactors churn… I mean drain, the Lifestream to make electrical power, but they’re all in Upper Midgar; poles like this one are needed to bring the electricity down into Lower Midgar.” Kadaj helpfully piped up.

“That may be what it looks like… but they cut the power flow to this one; Shinra personnel can climb down this pole in the dead of night without anyone noticing them.”

“Or we can climb up it.” Tifa was smiling, but she didn’t quite look happy, it was more like… hungry?

“Damn right, looks we just found ourselves our golden shiny utility pole of hope!”

“Do you need me to help carry, or at least support you?” Kadaj couldn’t keep his tongue from running away with him.

“What?” Barret’s gaze turned toward Kadaj, and he found himself taking a slow step back.

“It’s just; it’s a long way up, a really long way up. You’ve sorta-kinda, only...” Kadaj really wished he had a better understanding of how and why Barret had ended up with a gun for an arm so as to avoid insulting him. “Carrying you would be a bad idea, then I’d just be hauling your entire body myself with only one arm, instead of you hauling yourself with only one arm. So maybe if instead, I worked one arm around your chest, then I could climb with one arm while you climbed with the other, and we’d both help the other climb...”

Barret looked Kadaj up from his feet to his hair, after that he looked Kadaj from hair back down to his feet. Then Avalanche’s leader threw his head back and laughed heartily.

"Kid you’ve got some real heart, but trust me: that sort of tandem climbing would be trickier than me trying to do it on my own."

"Since I ended up getting dragged all over this Sector recently, I'm fairly certain I know where we could purchase some climbing gear. All of you can tether yourselves to me.”  Sephiorth offered.

XXX XXX XXX

President Shinra glowered at the three men before him.

“So, which of you is responsible for the failure of Operation Damocles?” He let the question hang in the air as he shifted his focus from General Robert Heidegger to Turk Commander Tseng and finally to Urban Development Department Director Reeve Tuesti.

“Mr. President, Operation Damocles called for the agents of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department to be the ones to trigger the Plate’s release. What was that department’s director doing during the operation though? He was joyriding around Lower Midgar instead of properly leading his troops!” Heidegger scoffed.

To his credit, Tseng did not shy from President Shinra’s accusing glare.

“Mr. President, what some might call ‘joyriding’ was, in reality, me completing a task that has daunted Shinra for over a decade. Unlike General Heidegger, who chose to physically remain in Shinra HQ, I was observing the operation unfold personally from my command helicopter in Sector Seven. Before the situation became critical enough for me to get personally involved, I caught sight of our missing Ancient and realized that this was our chance to finally have her willingly return to Shinra HQ.

Since the threat Avalanche poses is currently confined to Midgar, I concluded that their destruction was less important than securing the Ancient, especially since to do nothing was to risk her death when the Plate fell. She is currently in the custody of the Science and Research Division, and with her cooperation, Shinra can finally move forward with your plans for Neo-Midgar.

As for the failure of my department to activate the Plate Release System, debriefings have revealed that it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference if I took part in the battle. My agents achieved their objective of gaining physical access to the system, only to discover it was currently down for maintenance. Said maintenance, conducted by the Urban Development Department, doomed Operation Damocles to failure before it even started.”

President Shinra’s eyes now focused their wrath on his third subordinate. Reeve proved to be made of sterner stuff than he would have expected, though.

“During the planning stages of Operation Damocles, I raised the possibility of some sort of localized evacuation or emergency announcement to reduce civilian casualties. Mr. President, you told me to my face that any such actions were unacceptable as they might give away the element of surprise, and that I was to do nothing in regards to Sector Seven until after the operation had been completed; I was to act as if Sector Seven had already ceased to exist.

“I followed those orders.

“Because I had ceased to review data related to Sector Seven, I didn’t realize that weeks ago I’d already scheduled a system update to the Sector Seven Plate monitoring system to take place at a time that would overlap with Operation Damocles. Even if I had been aware of it beforehand, what could I have done? If I suddenly changed a previously scheduled update at the last moment, wouldn’t that be exactly the sort of atypical behavior you wanted me to avoid?”

“You could have informed the rest of us, and we could have rescheduled Operation Damocles.” President Shinra gave the obvious answer.

“In retrospect, yes, but as I said, because I was following your command to completely disregard all matters concerning Sector Seven, it ended up falling through the cracks. Of course, while I’m no military man, from what I heard, if the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department’s agents had been able to maintain physical access to the system, they could have simply waited for the update to finish. Am I mistaken, Director Tseng?” President Shinra was mildly impressed by how innocent, bordering on naive, Reeve could sound as he sunk the knife into Tseng’s back.

“Mr. President, as you are no doubt aware, the group known as Avalanche was first founded six years ago in February of 2001, with their first action being an attempt to sabotage the Sector Eight Reactor. To combat them, the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department had access to nearly a dozen field agents, myself included.

For reasons that are not mine to gainsay, our budget has been steadily decreased over the last few years, our losses unreplaced, to the point that I now only have a pair of field agents. On top of that, Avalanche has proven itself to be more ideology than organization. Every member of its first iteration is either dead or so thoroughly gone to ground that we’ve been unable to find any trace of them… and yet here we are... fighting Avalanche.

Additionally, while the first iteration had access to ‘Ravens’ who were physically similar to SOLDIERs but mentally far inferior, this iteration seems to be able to field genuine SOLDIERs, including Sephiroth himself. There was also what one of my agents described as a ‘mini-Sephiroth’, for lack of more precise terminology.

Faced with such opposition, my department is dangerously understaffed; the fact that Reno and Rude were able to obtain physical access to the Plate Release System at all is a testament to their skill, dedication, and professionalism.”

President Shinra looked right into Tseng’s eyes. Tseng allowed his own eyes to tilt downwards slightly, showing submission without the guilt implicit in looking away.

“I’ve heard enough, for now. You three are all dismissed; be aware that there will be even more thorough reviews of Operation Damocles’ failure in the future.”

XXX XXX XXX

“And this is the General Affairs Auditing Department Lounge… You will probably be down here a lot- to watch your boss yell at me for failing to do my job the way he wants it done, to watch him pin medals on me accomplishing the impossible, and then one last time to rip my throat out because I’ve decided to go out in a blaze of spiteful glory. Just make sure you’re in top form for that third one, because you wouldn’t be the first mongrel I’ve killed with a broken bottle.” Reno explained jovially.

He’d taken Dark Nation on a tour of Shinra HQ to all the important places, or at least nearly all the important places. He hadn’t taken the Vice President’s new bodyguard to the Urban Development Department because, after hearing rumors of how its director had come into work looking like a man who had spent an entire month in Wall Market with an unlimited expense account and met several women of surpassing beauty and negotiable affection, Reno simply didn’t have the heart to ruin Reeve’s rare good mood.

“Sadly, Heidegger’s orders said I had to keep eyes on you until Rufus arrives later tonight, so here’s what will happen; I’m going to close this door and relax by watching some TV. I’ll finish your employee orientation with an important lesson that Tseng taught me the first time I came into the office: if you shit on the floor you have to clean it up yourself.” Those words of ancient wisdom properly imparted, Reno collapsed onto the couch with the air of an Olympic diver and the grace of a dead fish.

As he started to flip through countless channels wondering how it was possible to have so many options and yet nothing worth watching, he heard an irritated growl.

“What’s that Dark Nation? Timmy fell down the well?”

The oversized canine jabbed his tentacle at the chessboard sitting on Tseng’s desk; as per usual it depicted a match that they’d started but been too busy to finish.

Reno just rolled his eyes in exasperation. 

“What, playing fetch too lowbrow for you?  If you promise not to drool on it, we could even use my nightstick.” 

Dark Nation just gestured emphatically with his tentacle one more.

“Nothing doing.  Give me one good reason why I should…”

Before he could finish the sentence, Dark Nation began to shift about awkwardly and scratch at his neck, causing a bag that must have been hidden behind the chains to come free and drop to the floor.

There was the telltale “clink” of gil coins and Reno’s eyes widened.

When he noticed the denomination on those gil coins, they got wider still.

“Well, damn.  And here I thought Hojo was just tryin’ to piss me off!”

He wasn’t sure why exactly someone at Shinra had decided it was necessary to pay quite that much money to a dog, but on the other hand, there had probably been days when people had pondered the exact same questions about Reno.

“You want to… play chess.. for money.” Reno slowly put the pieces together.

The prospect of gambling drew the Turk’s attention far more than being told that there was a child in desperate need of rescuing from a borehole.  Still, Reno was nobody’s pigeon.

“First we’d get in a lot of trouble with the Boss if we touched his chess set, even if I grabbed a picture of the board on my PHS before we started playing.  Secondly, as the challenged party I believe that it’s only fair that I get to decide the weapons.”

XXX XXX XXX

“A flush beats a straight despite them both involving five cards, and both of those lose to a full house.  Got all that?”

Dark Nation nodded eagerly.

“Good, now since I doubt you can hold five cards at the same time with that weird thing growing out of your back, we’ll stick to Corel Holdem, it works like this...”

Reno fed his lucky deck of cards into an automatic shuffler that Tseng had insisted the Turks use to keep his subordinate from palming cards, then scooped one card off of the deck, placing it face down between them, before dealing two cards to his opponent and another pair for himself.

It was time for the Turk to make like Dark Nation had just jumped in a mud puddle… and take him to the cleaners!

End Chapter

AN: My editor/co-author Fenrir, was kind enough to point out that Kadaj’s canonical “knife fighting”, grip on Souba that he uses in Advent Children is a profoundly stupid fighting style in a one-on-one duel, especially against another southpaw, which Reno just happens to be. Also, if you’ve never read the Princess Bride or gotten more hands-on experience; if you curl your fingers around your thumb when you make a fist, you’ll inevitably risk breaking your own thumb when you punch someone.

Finally to those who are wondering, I’m as surprised to find out as you are that the “Gast” in “Professor Gast”, was his first name, but Gast Faremis is his quasi-canonical name so I’m using it, much like Brian Lockhart..

Chapter 15: You feel so safe inside, the walls you fortified. Supremacy implied, who dares to overthrow?

“So, does everyone understand the plan?” Sephiroth wasn’t even bothering to pretend that as the leader of Avalanche, Barret should be the one giving orders.

To his credit, Barret hadn’t raised a fuss; rescuing Aerith and raising hell in Shinra HQ were both causes near and dear to his heart.

“Third basement level, look for the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department Lounge, it’ll be the room with a couch; find Aerith’s staff, a materia with a white glow, and anything else that obviously belongs to her, then meet up with you in President Shinra’s office on the 70th floor!” Kadaj gave an enthusiastic thumbs up as he repeated an abridged version of Sephiroth’s orders.

Hanging from his brother’s outfit was a loop of zip ties that Sephiroth had provisioned him with.

“Perfect. If for some reason I’m unable to draw the majority of Shinra’s attention, just do whatever it takes to get out alive and meet up again at the Church I told you about in Sector Five.” Sephiroth concluded the mission briefing with a few seconds to spare.

His stride didn’t even slow as he walked straight through the still-closed lobby doors to Shinra HQ. Sephiroth distantly felt shattered glass pierce his skin, but his body forced the foreign objects out, healing the wounds before they even had a chance to bleed.

“Excuse me! If you don’t have an appointment, you’ll have to….” the receptionist began, her mind clearly operating on bureaucratic auto-pilot.

“Please inform the President that General Sephiroth is reporting for debriefing on his Nibelheim mission. I’m already five years late, so I’m sure he wouldn’t want me to suffer any further delays.”

The receptionist’s face rapidly began to drain of color.

“Of course, General…. and as for your... companions?” Fear was causing her to stutter, and she had a look in her eyes suggesting she regretted having spoken at all.

“They’re here to assist me with classified matters. Also, if you’d be so kind, please contact the head of the Science and Research Department. Tell him that his newest test subject is about to be placed under my personal protection.”

Over the course of his speech, the lobby crowd, an even mix of deliverymen, citizens, and suits heading to or from a smoke break, unfroze and scattered.

Four red-clad Shinra troopers with drawn firearms began to cautiously approach Sephiroth.

“Excuse me a moment...”

XXX XXX XXX

Gina saw the general reach for his sword.

Then… then she wasn’t quite sure what she saw next….

It was like looking at a bright light that left behind an afterimage that you could still see even with your eyes closed. Except, in this case, it was like her eyes were seeing a dozen different things happen in an amount of time that was far too short for them all to have occurred.

She heard a clamor of metal on tile, saw each guard jerk back, dropping the remains of his gun as if it had bitten him.

Then Sephiroth was calmly standing in front of her once again idly wrapping the black cloth around his blade and retying the hitch he used to hold it in place.

XXX XXX XXX

The interlopers appropriately disarmed and cowed, Sephiroth resumed the conversation.

“After you’re done passing that message along, you have my permission, no, my orders, to take the rest of the day off.”

“Thank you, sir… and… please make sure your companions don’t forget their visitor ID badges!” the receptionist timidly pushed a green tray containing plastic badges forward.

Kadaj attached one to his black outfit with a wide grin, while Tifa and Barret did likewise with less exuberant expressions.

“Much appreciated; since the streets of Midgar are proving to be especially dangerous these days, you four should escort her home.” Sephiroth gestured at the troopers who he’d recently disarmed.

Questioning looks were exchanged, and then one trooper, less cowed, or perhaps just more disciplined than the rest, stepped forward and gave his very best parade ground salute.

“Of course, General!”

The other three abruptly did likewise, and the entire quintet eagerly hustled out of the building. They weren’t the only ones who were making hasty exits; by this point, the lobby was more or less deserted.

“Richest company in the world, and they can only afford two elevators?” scoffed Tifa as she sized up their options.

“What’s the plan if one of them is already in use?” Kadaj worried.

“I never planned on using one,” Sephiroth answered without a moment’s hesitation as he kicked open the door to sixty flights of stairs. “I don’t have the time.”

XXX XXX XXX

As befitted the most important building in the world, Shinra HQ had security cameras almost everywhere; the stairways were no exception.

“What was that?” Ralph asked his shift partner.

“What was what?” Nigel inquired right back.

“I think I just saw something on floor ten… no wait, there it was again, on floor twenty!”

Nigel stopped inspecting videos of random people eating food in the commissary and turned his attention to Ralph’s screens.

“So, what am I looking for exactly?”

“Well, I mean, it’s not there anymore…. but if we look at floor thirty… THERE!” Ralph pointed an accusatory finger at his screen.

“It’s some kind of visual glitch; your monitor is on the fritz.” Nigel sighed while shaking his head.

“It’d be one thing if it just kept happening on the same floor, but it keeps getting higher up. It just happened again on floor forty!”

“So switch to floor fifty, set your watch, and figure out exactly how long before it happens again.”

It wasn’t the worst of ideas.

“Something like half a minute or so?” Ralph concluded when the visual glitch repeated itself.

“So what do you think is gonna happen on floor sixty?”

“No idea, I mean, there’s no way whatever this is can go any higher than that. There… there it is again! Did you see that door swing? I swear I saw something shove the door open hard enough to make it swing back and forth!”

“Look, our shift is ending in twenty minutes, and we’ve been at this for hours; your eyes are playing tricks on you. Besides, nobody could have gotten into the stairways without going through the lobby first, so let’s just review what happened there a few minutes before all this started...”

XXX XXX XXX

“What in the Planet’s name are the Canyon’s hotheads up to this time?” sighed Mayor Domino to himself, wondering why he hadn’t been warned in advance about the mess unfolding around him.

Even if he couldn’t wait to see Shinra toppled and the office of the Midgar’s Mayor to be worth more than a bucket of warm piss, this kind of blatant lightning assault on Shinra HQ held little appeal to him.

The damned fools were just lucky he’d managed to intercept the video feed of the lobby break-in and replace it with a looped recording of normal business operations. There were so many different cameras in Shinra HQ, and so few people paid to watch them that no one was going to spend the half an hour they’d need to notice the video repeating itself .

Luckily he hadn’t needed to work any sort of digital trickery on the stairways; the Avalanche team using that route seemed to have brought their own equipment, something that sped up the recording of their passing to the point that they became little more than a visual glitch.

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth shoved open the door to the sixtieth floor. Hojo’s laboratory was spread across floors sixty-seven and sixty-eight, but since he kept his prized experiments on the higher floor, that was where he’d find Aerith. If Shinra hadn’t changed its security procedures since his last visit, there was a complicated series of interlocking doors, passwords, and staircases with a different key card being needed for each floor. 

Finding all of them would slow even Sephiroth down, and the doors were probably protected by their new kinetic barriers, so trying to power through them would require unacceptable time and effort on his part.  He briefly considered going through the walls, instead, but leaving that overt a trail of destruction was really only likely to make his job harder in the long run.

While Shinra hadn’t changed its fondness for gigantic floor-to-ceiling windows, there was no easy way for Sephiroth to shatter one of them without unleashing a storm of high-velocity glass shards on anyone standing below.  Instead, he opted for a slightly more subdued approach.

“I’m afraid I need to borrow your window for a moment,” he introduced himself to the first minor functionary he could find with a private office.

“Borrow my window?” they repeated the words back to him in confusion.

Sephiroth grabbed the window frame in question and yanked hard.  It came loose, creating a gaping hole large enough for even Sephiroth to squeeze through, but the debris only got a chance to fall a few feet instead of several stories.

He’d managed to wiggle out through it before the office’s owner had even gotten a chance to call building services and/or security.

A moment later, flames roared to life in either hand, the magical heat softening the walls of Shinra HQ enough for him to crush it into handholds.

Now all Sephiroth had to do was climb eight stories straight up a building without any gear while freezing wind lashed at his body.

So far, so good.  He hoped the rest of Avalanche was having as easy a time of things...

XXX XXX XXX

“There is no Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department!” Kadaj cried out in a mix of anger and disappointment.

They’d circled the entire floor three times without finding the room in question.

This was not good; his brother had given him direct and clear orders for what to do, and he was failing to follow them.

“It has been five years. Shinra might have moved them to a different floor.” Tifa pointed out.

Knowing why he was failing didn’t make him feel that much better.

“What do we do now, then?”

“Ask for directions,” Barret sounded surprisingly calm and confident, almost cheerful at the prospect.

He followed up this comment by slamming his shoulder into a nearby door hard enough to make its hinges pop loose.

Barret pushed over the now unresisting door and beheld a room filled with people who were busily sorting through piles of mail.

“Pardon me, we’re a little lost...”

XXX XXX XXX

The glittering glass walls of the lower stories were conspicuously absent on the 67th and 68th floors, with the exception of the executive elevator.  Perhaps they’d simply proved too tempting to one test subject too many.  Perhaps Hojo withered in daylight like some kind of cave-dwelling fungus.  The ‘why’ was irrelevant; Sephiroth needed an entrance, and the executive elevator was by far his best option.

The cylindrical glass elevator had never been intended for building ingress, but nor was it protected by anything more than tempered glass- why bother, when Shinra controlled the skies?  Sephiroth flung himself sideways through the flimsy barrier, arresting his fall with the threshold to the 67th floor exit.

Elevators were meant to open from the inside, but not when the elevator was not, itself, present.  Lacking an option that could compete for pragmatism or sheer catharsis, Sephiroth drove his fist through the steel doors, then wedged his hands into the indented seam and wrenched outward.  Hydraulics failed, stainless steel buckled under his hands, and a nearby alarm started wailing.  Hauling himself inside, he silenced the siren with a gout of flame.

Even so, the alarm had served its purpose.

“Ah, the prodigal son returns!” a too-familiar voice accompanied a too-familiar face as a nearby monitor flickered to life...

“Where is Aerith?”

“You mean the Ancient? You’re here because of her in particular? Fascinating .”

“I’m here for many different reasons; she’s simply one of them.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, five whole years, yet nothing has changed, still the same abundance of promise and dearth of results. Just think about it Sephiroth, you, her, your....”

The monitor exploded, as machines tended to do when struck by bolts of magical lighting. He put a second bolt through the actual computer connected to it for good measure.

If Hojo wanted to talk to him through electronic means rather than face to face, Sephiroth would tear the lab down around him.  It didn’t matter whether it drew Hojo out or silenced him completely; either outcome suited Sephiroth.

XXX XXX XXX

“Structural damage sustained, fires detected, suppression systems overwhelmed...”  A monotone voice announced.

“Power flow interrupted.  Switching to backup power systems...”

“Backup power levels are below five percent.  Switching all remaining power to critical systems.  Situation red, emergency failure protocols initiated...”

Click .

A single orange eye opened warily as the translucent walls of its prison suddenly parted.

A tail that somehow burned without ever giving off smoke swayed behind the creature as it stalked through the halls of the laboratory on four russet paws.  Its nostrils detected a scent that made its tail twitch and its fur bristle.

There was something strange in the laboratory, and the red beast would not be satisfied until it tracked that scent down…

XXX XXX XXX

In the face of the Turk’s stoic rebuttals and bureaucratic nitpicking, Hojo had overseen the process of scrounging up some fail-safe containment pods, having her and his other most prized specimens transferred into them, then had diverted his attention to other matters out of sheer frustration, temporarily leaving the two of them alone.

The almost-comfortable silence was broken by the buzz of Rude’s phone. He gave it a single glance, then abruptly rose to his feet.

“Time’s up.”

Aerith tried to get closer to him, but once again, the chains made that impossible.

“Why are you leaving now?” She demanded, worried that Hojo would swoop back in the moment he departed.

“Time’s up,” Rude only repeated his previous statement as Aerith gazed into a pair of concealing black lenses.

Aerith wasn’t quite sure how, but suddenly she knew exactly what he meant.

Rude wasn’t leaving because his shift was about to end… but because Aerith’s imprisonment was.

XXX XXX XXX

“Reno, my lab is under attack by Avalanche! You need to get up here right now and.… ” Hojo’s voice screamed through his radio.

Much as Reno was glad to have an excuse to take his mind off of his poor opening hand, this was not the ideal distraction.

“Okay, you see, I’m gonna have to stop you right there.” Reno countered, allowing his voice to reach a particular tone he liked to think of as “maximum drawl”.

“You see, I’m under direct orders from General Heidegger, who is a total hardass, by the way, to look after the Vice President’s new bodyguard today. Not only that, but I was instructed that for NO reason was Dark Nation to enter your lab. So, I’m gonna go back to our card game now, he’s getting angry that I haven’t reacted to his two hundred gil raise. Byeeeeee….”

The dog playing poker in question was even kind enough to throw in a series of loud, angry growls to add verisimilitude to Reno’s excuse.

Reno removed his suit’s radio, laid it dismissively on a nearby table, and then threw his cards away, allowing Dark Nation to claim the meager pot. He might be losing to a dog, but he hadn't been born yesterday!

XXX XXX XXX

People were running in fear, people were down on their knees begging for their lives, and people were cowering under their desks, clearly hoping he wouldn’t notice them.

Sephiroth preferred the hiders to the beggers and especially the screamers; he’d always hated high-pitched noises. He hated them even worse in here. He remembered the tests they’d subjected him to in order to discover the full range of his hearing. He could still recall the weight of the headphones that he’d been forced to wear during his childhood to insulate him from the constant aural assault of everyday life.

No one…. no one but Professor Gast had wanted to see him as a child . They’d only been interested in him as a scientific curiosity, like an oversized bacteria for them to study, to poke, to prod, to experiment on however they wished.

It was going to feel good when he finally got his hands around Hojo’s neck. So… so good. 

His eyes narrowed as he finally caught sight of it, the door that had been burned into his mind, into his soul. Every nightmare he had always started with him being forced through that door.

The door to Hojo’s lab.

Sephiroth pressed a hand to it, waited a few moments, and shoved.

It disintegrated into a thousand frozen shards.

He was done letting fear control him.

The lab looked depressingly similar to how he remembered... except that he wasn’t the “star experiment” anymore; Aerith was.

“You know... I’ve been working on something special lately; it’s rather  impressive. Sadly, it’s a bit unstable; deprived of its current cocktail of sedatives, there’s no way it could consume calories faster than it expends them. Its life expectancy in ‘the wild’ is roughly ten minutes.

So, I don’t think I’ll bother releasing it; we both know it wouldn’t last half that long against you,” Hojo’s voice rang out from countless computer monitors set up all across the room.

“Tell me about my mother.”  If a conversation had to take place right now, Sephiroth was determined to control its topic.

“Jenova...”

“Don’t be obtuse.”

“... I see.  I suppose if I had to give her some kind of appropriate memorial, she was surprisingly hardy in retrospect. I mean, after you started displaying such remarkable physical abilities, Shinra insisted I repeat the process. We did… oh a few hundred trials, all of which inevitably concluded in the death of the incubator and a non-viable offspring.”

Sephiroth should have been horrified at the number of innocent people who had died because Shinra had insisted on chasing Hojo’s mad dream, but he couldn’t muster the shock to be horrified.  Disgust would have to suffice.

“That’s why I eventually decided to shift the process to more artificial means of reproduction. I mean, the womb, it’s just so… temperamental . When you’re developing a fetus in an artificial incubator, everything is so much easier to control; if it needs more nutrients, you simply pull a lever! It’s no wonder I only started to have even minor successes like your incomplete brother once I moved away from the frailties of human flesh.”

“You have to know I’ll tear this entire building apart to find you.  Perhaps I’ll oblige you with a firsthand demonstration of human frailty.  You always were pushing me to perform for you... .”

“If only you had the grand intellect to match your brute strength,” Hojo scoffed before the screens went dead.

XXX XXX XXX

Professor Simon Hojo leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. He’d known, known that something like this would end up happening as soon as the incompetent fools who worked for Shinra had failed to confirm Sephiroth’s death during Operation Damocles.

He’d hoped that he could have made the few hours he’d had with the Ancient matter and get some real research done, but it seemed that once again, the entire universe was conspiring against him.

The most astounding part of it was that despite all his hard work, everyone else still thought the powers of the Ancients lay in pathetic parlor tricks like communing with the Planet! Even the other executives at Shinra thought he was a fool or a madman, but in reality, he was the only one who truly understood this world, who truly knew what its prior owners had been capable of.

Still, it hadn’t been a complete loss. While she’d been fully sedated, he’d overseen the extraction of a pint of her blood, along with numerous skin and follicle samples, and his new research materials were hidden where Sephiroth would never find them. Not only that, but it was clear that no matter how he tried to hide it, Sephiroth was taking some sort of interest in the Ancient.

If only he’d stop being so selfish and realize what a tremendous service he’d be doing for the Planet if he successfully mated with her! What manner of magnificent crossbreed might they create? What sort of hybrid vigor would their offspring possess? They would be unto gods!

It was a pity that there were so few Cetra left in the world.

With that bitter note in mind, Hojo began to tap a few keys onto his laptop, then reflected that there was nothing more he could possibly need to do or say at the moment.

At least when all was said and done he’d still have the subject he’d managed to obtain from Cosmo Canyon, at great cost of life, as that bore Heidegger had insisted on repeatedly reminding him.

He removed his glasses and laid them on a nearby table, then unbuttoned his lab coat so that the sun’s rays could more fully fall upon his body.

Costa del Sol’s pleasures were puerile in their nature, but not entirely without merit. It was certainly among the best places to be if someone in Midgar wanted to rip out your throat.

“Waitress, another mixture of  heavily filtered distillation of molasses, a lipid-rich suspension of coconut water, and fresh pineapple squeezings!”

“...You... want another piña colada ?” 

“Yes.” 

XXX XXX XXX

WHAM!

“Is this the General Affairs Department Lounge?” Kadaj asked politely.

Despite his cordial tone, the fact that he’d kicked the door down seemed to have somewhat soured the room’s occupants’ opinion of him.

That was probably why they were screaming, and if he hadn’t been blocking the only exit, they might even have been running as well.

Regardless of their unhelpful reaction, Kadaj was glad that Barret had come up with a plan for how they could find their target, Kadaj was just glad to have a plan.

Some people might have considered ‘break down every door until they found the right one’ not much of a plan, but Kadaj didn’t mind. Eliminating one room after another from the list of possible suspects was a lot better than just wandering around at random, after all.

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth stared at Aerith.

She didn’t say anything; she didn’t have to.

Shattering the containment pod and her chains had been laughably easy for him, dealing with this though…

Sephiroth knew all too well how she had to be feeling right now… how he’d felt every day of his life growing up and being treated like he was a... thing rather than a person.

It’d broken him, left him spending the earliest nights he could remember curled up into a ball, sobbing tearfully for the mother he’d never known. For someone, anyone, to take him somewhere, anywhere else.

What could he say at a time like this? How do you comfort someone after this place had had its chance to drain the life out of them?

How was he supposed to apologize for the fact that he’d decided to go to sleep and wait for Madame M to arrive, rather than tracking her down to shave hours off of her captivity?

Words were useless. What could he possibly do to help her?

As Sephiroth stood there, he felt the comforting weight of Masamune across his back. Holding Masamune had been the first time Sephiroth had been anything close to happy; the sword had been proof he wasn’t going to be a victim anymore.

Weapons were important, being able to defend yourself was important; you couldn’t erase the suffering of the past, but you could protect your future.

Sephiroth reluctantly looked away from Aerith and scanned the room.

He spotted what he needed.

He raced over, grabbed it, and raced back, wordless offering it to Aerith.

She took it, uncertainly at first, but her grip tightened more with every passing moment.

Nailed it.

XXX XXX XXX

Aerith stared at Sephiroth.

He somehow looked worse than she did.

From a distance, he’d seemed immaculate, a wrathful angel with destruction in his hands and fire in his wake, but as he ripped apart her manacles, she finally got a good look at his eyes..

There was a haunted look in them; for the first time since they’d met, Aerith was seeing Sephiroth genuinely afraid.

She wanted to tell him that it was all right, that the Turks had been there to keep Hojo away from her… but she couldn’t get those lies past her lips. It hadn’t been all right, even if it could have been so much worse.

Why, why should this be her job? Why should she have to comfort someone else right now ? Shouldn’t she be able to have a few moments to herself?

Sephiroth suddenly looked away from her.

Aerith felt her heart leap into her throat; had those piercing green eyes somehow seen her selfish thoughts?

Well, what right did he have to judge her for them?  What would the most powerful and exalted of Shinra’s SOLDIERs know about how it felt to be treated like an animal?

Just as quickly as he’d looked away from her, Sephiroth seemed to blur, a vaguely humanoid black and silver afterimage snapping across the room, then back to stand in front of her.

His right hand reached out, offering Aerith the severed back from a steel lab chair.

What did he…?

Oh . Ohhh….

Aerith took the improvised bludgeon and smiled.

“First Shinra goon I see is gonna regret having taken this local florist prisoner!” Aerith promised him.

It was the kind of line that you’d expect to hear in a movie… a bad movie. 

But the way Sephiroth’s shoulders relaxed, the tension melted off his face, and the faint, relieved smile that made him look five years younger for the brief moment before it faded into his customary stoicism… it made it all worthwhile.

Nailed it.

XXX XXX XXX

No sooner had Aerith stepped out of her containment pod than a nearly inaudible rustle of movement caught Sephiroth’s attention.  He spun to face its source- a red-furred quadruped.  . Beyond that, Sephiroth wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at; it wasn’t a perfect match for any animals or monsters he had seen before.  Perhaps Hojo had changed his mind about unleashing his latest biological monstrosity after all... but the new arrival’s body seemed too symmetrical and had too few tentacles for that to be the case.  What’s more, its remaining eye didn’t show even a glimmer of Mako glow; almost definitely not one of Hojo’s, then.

Which didn’t make it harmless.  It growled and pawed the ground, claws scoring the stainless steel floor as it edged closer.  Well, if it was determined to start a fight, Sephiroth knew how to end one.  He’d just have to toss the creature into the same tank that he’d just freed Aerith from and use his magic to seal it inside….

“Aerith, I won’t let this… thing… hurt you,” Sephiroth promised.

He really didn’t want to waste any more time in this lab, but killing this animal out of hand was all but assured to upset Aerith; even if it’d be a kindness to the creature, he wasn’t willing to make this day any worse for her than it already was.

“Aerith… I won’t let this…. thing… hurt you,” the beast growled right back.

Sephiroth blinked in confusion; when he’d disregarded the idea that this thing was a creation of Hojo’s, he’d also implicitly concluded that it must be no more intelligent than your average apex predator.

“Do you... know what you’re saying?” Sephiroth probed, not sure if the creature possessed human-level intelligence or was just mimicking sounds.

“Do you?” the animal scoffed, its flaming tail lashing back and forth. “Why do you smell of death, destruction, and disease?”

Sephiroth was shocked into unconsciously taking a step back.

It knew.

It knew.

Too busy being shaken to his core to properly respond, Aerith managed to slip past him, placing herself between Sephiroth and the animal he was supposed to be protecting her from.

“Sephiroth is my friend. If you’ve been kept here against your will, you should consider him your friend, also...”

Then she awkwardly extended an arm towards the russet beast.

“Um, maybe you could tell us what your name is?”

The creature shook itself thoroughly before turning its single eye upon a numeral tattooed on its left shoulder. It wasn’t the only tattoo the animal bore, but it seemed the most recent and the only one with an obvious meaning.

“You may call me Red XIII, the name I was given in this place. It is as good a name as any other.”

“I'm morally opposed to giving any weight to ANYTHING Hojo does to anyone,” Sephiroth countered.

This animal might not like him, and it might have a completely valid reason for not liking him, but he’d never call it by the specimen name Hojo had given it or stand by while someone else did so.

The beast considered him in silence for a moment. “...Stargazer, then.” 

“All right then, Stargazer, this is Sephiroth; he’s a friend. I’m sorry that he hasn’t had time to have a bath recently; he’s probably been very busy trying to rescue me. Sephiroth, this is Stargazer, he’s a...” Aerith’s words trailed off as it became obvious that she had just as few clues regarding Stargazer’s nature as Sephiroth’s did.

“Stargazer, what exactly are you?” she eventually just flat out asked.

“...Eager to leave.”

Stargazer’s good eye turned a cautious stare at Sephiroth.

“Aerith, you truly trust this one?”

Sephiroth wished he could have thought less of Stargazer for his suspicion.

“There are few things I want in this world more than to kill the man who imprisoned you two.” It wasn't much, but it was the best answer he had at the moment.

“How quickly the worm turns upon itself!” Stargazer chuckled, finally allowing his claws to retract.

Sephiroth returned Masamune to his back and returned his attention to the door he’d shattered while breaking into the lab.

“If we’re done here… I should deliver my resignation in person.”

XXX XXX XXX

Reno’s phone gave off the polite “chime” of an email arriving.

A moment later, it started playing Toccata and Fugue in D minor.

“Oh no, it's her!" Reno leapt for the phone with a stricken look.

Scanning the email he’d just received proved surprisingly therapeutic, however, and soon he was genuinely smiling.

“Looks like cards are the only thing you’re lucky at today, Dark; Debbie from Marketing wants to speak to you.”

The canine bodyguard tilted his head to the side in obvious confusion.

“Yep, that is EXACTLY the look I gave when I got my first email from her. I mean, I sure as hell don’t know why Shinra still even has a marketing department. We’ve got no competitors, and the product pretty much sells itself. 

“Are soap operas in the slums getting interrupted for advertisements about ‘Shinra brand Watts’? Mako Power, if you’re not already using it, how are you even watching this commercial? Mako Power, it’s better than rubbing two sticks together in the dark! The Shinra Electric Power Company, we’re here, our monopoly’s clear, get used to it!

“Still, somehow, someway, Shinra still has a Marketing Department. The most important rule of thumb, or rule of dewclaw in your case, is: don’t cross the Marketing Department. I hear that Palmer once said that Debbie’s new dress made her look fat, and BOOM, his entire department vanished within a month!

“So whatever she asks for, just smile, nod your head, and do it.”

XXX XXX XXX

WHAM!

“Is this the General Affairs Department Lounge?”

“We’re just the Accounts Payable Department!”

XXX XXX XXX

“Man, somebody really has it out for the Shipping, Receiving, and Interoffice Parcel Delivery Department... and the Janitorial Department.... and the Customer Service Department…” Reno reflected as he noticed that one door after another seemed to have been kicked in.

Realizing what he’d just said, the Turk paused for a moment and made a mental bet with himself.

Then he poked his head into the Customer Service Department.

“I’ll be damned; there is somebody in here!”

His curiosity satisfied, he turned and walked away.

He’d expected it to be empty, but the room’s sole occupant, having been zip-tied to his chair with his tie stuffed in his mouth as a makeshift gag, felt just about right.

XXX XXX XXX

WHAM!

“Is this the General Affairs Department Lounge?”

For once, there was no one present to answer Kadaj’s question.

Even though the plaque on the door said “Auditing Department”, he quickly noticed that this room, unlike all the others they’d broken into, had a couch!

“Jackpot,” chuckled Tifa as she noticed the same piece of furniture Kadaj had.

The three of them spread out across the room, looking for any of Aerith’s errant possessions.

XXX XXX XXX

“Hey Debbie, having a rough morning?” Reno asked as he removed the makeshift gag from her mouth.

Reno wasn’t sure what color Debbie’s hair was, nor her eyes; she seemed to change contacts, hairstyles, and dyes two or three times a week. She was neither fat nor thin, neither tall nor short. To be perfectly honest, Reno was only certain that this was “Debbie” because he’d found her in the Marketing Department’s Office.

He had no proof that Debbie was secretly a Wutain spy who would one day detonate several tons of strategically placed C4 and turn Shinra Headquarters into the world’s biggest pile of rubble, but he wouldn’t bet against the possibility. On the other hand, he also wouldn’t be surprised to discover that Debbie was actually the result of one of Hojo’s experiments, creating a handful of different women, all of whom shared a telepathic link and took turns coming to the office.

“It’s a living,” she admitted, taking a few moments to rub some feeling back into her wrists once Reno freed her from the zip ties that had bound her arms.

“I brought the dog you were so interested in.”

“Wonderful. I have some exciting ideas for cross-promoting him alongside Stamp!”

“Well, I’ll let you figure that out...” Reno was already inching out the door.

XXX XXX XXX

The phone on Reeve’s desk rang, which was actually a rather rare phenomenon; most people trying to reach him typically went through either email or Ms. Pans.

“Reeve, get in my office, now.”

The line went dead.

Reeve put down the phone, his arm shaking.

President Shinra had found out.

Reeve had done his best to cover his tracks; he’d backdated all the information to look like the Plate release system update had been ordered by him well before being briefed on Operation Damocles, but it hadn’t been enough.

Either they’d managed to sift through his digital trickery, or they’d gotten in direct contact with the people who had done the update; it didn’t matter which.

Reeve took a long drink from his coffee mug, the last drink he’d ever take from it.

He briefly pondered staying right where he was, forcing President Shinra to send SOLDIERs or Turks to drag him away kicking and screaming. Except that had never really been Reeve’s way; he wasn’t some glorious rebel who would die with a pithy quip and smile on his lips, refusing to perish without one final act of defiance.

That was probably why he’d gotten a call in the first place instead of having armed men deliver the demand at gunpoint. Reeve just didn’t have it in him to be a spy, a rebel, or a hero; he was just a bureaucrat.

He wondered if President Shinra planned to have him executed today, or would he prefer a grandiose show trial that culminated in something lingering, with boiling oil involved.

No, Reeve Tuesti wasn’t that important; he wasn’t even worthy of being a proper scapegoat. His death would be quick and just as quickly swept under the rug. Within five years, nobody at Shinra would even know his name.

Nobody would know his name, and yet over sixty thousand people in Midgar would still be alive because of him.

He could live… well, he could accept that.

Reeve got out of his chair and began to loosen his tie; he might as well spend the last few minutes of his life feeling comfortable.

“You can take the rest of the day off, Miss Pans; I’m done with work unexpectedly early,” Reeve let his secretary know as he walked past her desk.

He hoped that she didn’t end up getting executed as well.

Despite that fear, there was a strange lightness in Reeve’s step as he headed to President Shinra’s office.

There was just something perversely liberating about knowing that he’d done everything he’d be able to.  For the first time in over ten years, tomorrow was someone else’s problem.

XXX XXX XXX

“Is somebody having a party today, and they forgot to invite me?” Reno couldn’t help but ponder as he returned to the Turk’s lounge.

Just like many other departments, he discovered that their door had been knocked clean off its hinges.

Not only that, but a quick survey of the room revealed that the only thing missing were items that Tseng had seized from the captured Ancient... and that Dark Nation had been bluffing.

Reno sighed heavily, got out his PHS, and started dialing.

“Boss, I’ve got some weird news for you. Oh, also we’re gonna have to buy a new door, but this time it isn’t my fault!”

XXX XXX XXX

Reeve entered President Shinra’s office.

He’d prepared himself for all manner of possible outcomes: from having a black bag placed over his head, to just getting stabbed by a SOLDIER or shot out of hand.

He was not expecting to get there and find that instead of walking into his own execution, he’d arrived at President Shinra’s.

The most powerful man in the world was slumped over at his desk with a massive  wound in his back, a pool of blood still slowly spreading out across the floor; while the office’s massive glass window had been shattered outward.

Reeve wasn’t a doctor, but he was fairly sure that living people didn’t have skin that was quite that pale or lay quite that still. Not to mention they typically hadn’t lost enough blood that someone had used it to write a message on the floor.

That was his first shock.

He got his second when he noticed something shiny out of the corner of his eye and promptly found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. Granted, that in and of itself wasn’t unexpected, but the gun should have been held in an arm, not grafted onto it.

“Well, what do we have here?” the weapon’s owner chuckled to himself.

For a brief moment, Reeve wondered if he was looking at President Shinra’s killer, then disregarded the notion since the corpse had been stabbed rather than riddled with bullets.

“Whoever he is, we can’t risk letting him call in reinforcements.” declared a well built young woman with long dark hair.

He felt a powerful pair of hands grab his own and pull them behind his back; the process was slow enough to be painless, but forceful enough to make it clear that resisting would be pointless.

“Don’t worry; I got him!” a youthful male voice piped up.

A youthful male voice that Reeve had heard before...

His mind finally stopped thinking about his own “inevitable” death long enough for him to realize exactly what was going on.

“You’re Avalanche!”

“Looks like the train’s finally pulled into the station,” the one-armed man chuckled.

“Of course, it does raise the question, who exactly are you?” the woman’s glittering mahogany eyes watched Reeve with a dangerous intensity.

Deciding to sacrifice his life in an act of rebellion only to wind up getting murdered by anti-Shinra rebels who thought he was still completely loyal to the company; Reeve could have done without the irony.

Still, he did have one card left to play...

“Kadaj, please ask your friends not to kill me.”

He felt the hands holding him loosen slightly. If Reeve wanted to, he could try and make a break for it, but he didn’t much fancy his chances of outrunning the inevitable hail of gunfire.

“Wait, how do you know my name?”

“I am Reeve Tuesti, Director of Shinra’s Urban Development Department. I’m also the man who sabotaged President Shinra’s attempt to drop the Sector Seven Plate.”

“Wow, I’m almost sorta impressed,” the woman scoffed. “Look, we’re not in the business of killing anyone who doesn’t fight back, but this would go a lot more smoothly if you don’t lie to us. So who are you, really?”

“As the head of a major department, I was briefed on the company’s attempts to clone Sephiroth. Why else do you think I would be able to recognize Kadaj’s voice?” Reeve countered.

A part of him wondered if he should feel vaguely insulted that these people hadn’t recognized him; they were fanatical terrorists who had dedicated their lives to destroying the Shinra Electric Power Company, and they still hadn’t even bothered to memorize his face. Was he truly that inconsequential?

“How exactly did you stop the Plate from being dropped, then?” the one-armed man demanded.

“As the head of Urban Development, I’m in charge of Shinra’s civic infrastructure. I created a work order that told someone to visit the Plate Release System an hour before Operation Damocles began...”

“Operation Damocles?  Really?”

“Yes. Trust me, I found it in utterly poor taste, just as you do. As I was explaining, I had a repairman visit the Plate Control System’s access terminal in Sector Seven and install a new update patch.  The patch would require roughly eight hours to complete, and as long as the system was updating, it would refuse any further input. The fact that I did it is the very reason I’m here in the first place. President Shinra realized I was responsible and ordered me arrested.”

“You know what I’m thinking?” the one-armed man pondered as he scratched his chin.

“That he’s telling the truth?” Kadaj offered helpfully.

“Nah, I ain’t met a Shinra suit yet who wouldn’t be willing to lie their head off rather than take a bullet in it. What I’m thinking, is that we got into this mess because Shinra captured Aerith. So...”

“Avalanche could use a captive of our own?” the woman eagerly jumped on board that particular train of thought.

“Damned right. Kadaj, zip him.”

Reeve felt something being wound around his wrists to pin his arms in place. Considering he’d walked into this room a dead man and had just been promoted to high-value hostage, his day actually seemed to be looking up.

XXX XXX XXX

“Who’s this?” General Sephiroth asked upon catching sight of Reeve standing around zip-tied in President Shinra’s office.

“What’s that?” Kadaj instantly shot back upon catching sight of the red-furred quadruped that was accompanying Sephiroth alongside Shinra’s recently “recovered” Ancient.

“Says his name is Reeve Tuesti, head of Urban Development. I figure if anyone would know your Shinra bigwigs from the pretenders it’d be you; he the real deal?” The one-armed man answered.

“Kadaj, this is Stargazer. Stargazer, this is Kadaj, he is also a friend, ” Sephiroth insisted sternly.

A great many things were going on at the moment that Reeve would have appreciated clarification on, but doubted he’d be getting it any time soon.

“As for your own new acquaintance, back when I was working for Shinra, Reeve Tuesti was the Director of the City Planning department.”

“I was promoted after the successful construction of Sector 4; Urban Development oversees all of Shinra’s major construction efforts, not just those in Midgar.”

“Any horrible secrets in his past we should be aware of?” the dark haired woman seemed distressingly eager for an excuse to inflict violence upon him.

“He kept sending his emails to the entire company directory, so SOLDIERs would get random updates about how the city’s construction was progressing while they were halfway across the world in Wutai.”

“Oddly enough, I got better about that after being put in charge of Shinra’s digital infrastructure.” 

“Here’s the real important news, President Shinra was already dead when we got here. Not only that but...” Avalanche’s leader gestured towards the message that was spelled out in blood on the office floor.

“See you in Junon, brother. Our mother will guide us to The Promised Land.”

Sephiroth seemed to go even paler than normal after seeing that message and only grew more unnerved as he inspected the wound in President Shinra’s back.

“I know the sword that did this.”

“You can tell the exact sword that was used to stab someone, just by looking at the wound it left behind?” the Ancient questioned.

“It’s a very distinctive wound.”

“Does that mean the message was left for you? Do we have more family you haven’t gotten around to telling me about yet?” Kadaj was more exuberant than ever at the prospect.

Sephiroth looked at Kadaj for a moment before closing his eyes with a slow shake of his head. 

“No. I’ll explain all of this later, or at least as much as I can. We need to get out of here. Not just out of Shinra HQ, but out of Midgar. We need to get to Junon.”  His arms and face twitched as if he wasn’t sure what expression to use or how best to comfort his sibling.

“Leave Midgar? Yeah, there’s a Shinra base in Junon, but why travel halfway across the continent when we can fight the bastards right here?” it seemed there was some dissension in Avalanche’s ranks.

"Because what's waiting for us in Junon just killed President Shinra. They killed the most powerful man in the world... just so that they could send a message to me. If I don't respond to this one, the next message could well be written in the blood of thousands. It... wouldn't be without precedent."

“Wait, you can’t be serious, are you trying to say that...”

“Miss Lockhart, this is no time for internecine strife .  We've accomplished everything we came here to do: Aerith is safe, and President Shinra is dead.  I will explain everything... but in his office, next to his cooling body, is not the place.  We need to get out of Midgar ."

'Miss Lockhart' visibly tensed, but as Sephiroth spoke, that tension morphed into resolve; she gave a single curt nod as he finished..

“Sephiroth is right.” She grabbed Reeve by the shoulder and started to drag him from the room.

Honestly, Reeve was amazed that these terrorists were able to discuss matters for as long as they had without SOLDIERs storming in; wasn’t this supposed to be the most secure building in the world?

XXX XXX XXX

“Tseng, we’ve got a problem on floor 67,” Rude reported over his radio.

“How serious a problem? I’m a little busy trying to beat Avalanche to the ground floor right now...” Tseng’s tone was even more clipped than usual.

“Class J containment breach. At least two dozen dead, both SOLDIERS and civilians.”

“Confirm your last statement, ‘Class Juliet’ containment breach?” Tseng spoke with the bitter regret of one who knew they were grasping at straws.

“Correct. Class Juliet.”

“Wonderful, first Avalanche, now this. I’m rerouting what reinforcements I’ve been able to get in contact with to your location; they’re too spread out and would only get defeated in detail trying to stop Sephiroth.”

XXX XXX XXX

“Elevator card?”  Sephiroth made the request as soon as the seven of them entered.

Reeve didn’t waste any time with obfuscation, he just gestured with his bound hands towards his right pocket; a moment later Shinra’s ex-captive Ancient reached into said pocket and handed over a plastic card.

Sephiroth inserted it into a slot in the elevator before hitting the “lobby” button.

“Thank you.  The last thing any of us need is to wind up having our exfiltration delayed by random office workers.  Luckily, Shinra designed this elevator system so that its higher-ups could order it to ignore all incoming requests when they were on board.  Alas, I misplaced my own somewhere in the Lifestream.”

The doors began to close but a black-gloved hand suddenly reached out and halted them.

“Wait, so no matter what, this elevator won’t stop?  Can I meet you guys on the ground floor?  I just had an idea...

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra Headquarters, 60th floor

“SOLDIER Bulloch, this is Rude of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department; we need you up on floor 67 now,”  A stoic voice announced through his radio just as the doors closed.

Jeremy risked a glance over at his fellow Firsts, Peter, and Andrew.

“ I’m sorry but we're already en route to the first floor, terrorists to kill and all that; you’ll have to find somebody else to play janitor.  What a pity, button already pressed, nothing we can do..."

XXX XXX XXXX

“Shinra Headquarters, 59th floor...” Announced a recorded female voice.

“Hello, is there anybody out there?”

XXX XX XXX

“Shinra Headquarters 58th floor...” 

“Is there somebody out there?”

XXX XXX

“Shinra Headquarters, 57th floor...” 

“Seriously?”

XXX XXX XXX

“Shinra Headquarters, 56th floor…”

“ Seriously ?”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ: floor 55...

“ Seriously? ”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ: floor 54...

“So, do you think one of those Avalanche bastards hacked the elevator system?”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ: floor 53...

“Obviously, that’s what they did. I mean, how the hell else do you explain it?”

XXX XXX XXX

Floor 52...

“Well, I mean, say if somebody ran down and just hit the down button on every floor?”

XXX XXX XXX

Floor 51...

“You expect me to believe that even one of those eco-terrorist nut jobs is crazy enough to run down sixty flights of stairs….

XXX XXX XXX

Floor 50...

“… then he pushes the down button on every floor, but doesn’t like actually cut the elevator’s cable…”

XXX XXX XXX

Floor 49...

“...or do any of a dozen other things that would permanently disable the elevator?”

XXX XXX XXX

Floor 48...

“What kind of asshole would have that much free time on his hands?”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ floor 2….

A black-gloved finger pressed a button.

A downwards pointing arrow began to glow gently.

“That ought to slow them down a bit...” Kadaj congratulated himself.

That would buy them some time, but to really be free and clear, they’d need something more drastic.

Then he saw it .

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ floor 47...

“So, do you think we should get out and walk?”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ floor 46...

“Down forty five flights of stairs?”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ floor 45...

“Well, it would be forty four flights now….”

XXX XXX XXX

A pair of elevator doors swung open, disgorging three Avalanche members, one local florist, one lab rat cat dog, and one hostage.

“So now we just need to find your brother and split. I don’t suppose the elevator ride gave you some sort of a brilliant idea for a plan W which doesn’t involve us having to flee Midgar on foot?”

Sephiroth opened his mouth to speak, but his words were drowned out by an oppressively loud engine roar, the kind that he typically associated with Shinra’s top-of-the-line robotic weapons.

He was pleasantly surprised when it turned out the sound was generated by a heavily customized motorcycle being ridden down a series of stairs from the second floor, with Kadaj perched atop it.

“Hey Seph, look what I found!” Kadaj boasted.

“...Since when could you drive?”

“Part of being a hero is being able to reach the people or places that are in trouble. I’m not quite as fast as you, so one of the doctors brought in a bike and gave me some lessons. If anything, this is easier; there aren’t random obstacles all over the place!” Kadaj chuckled as he killed its engine and engaged the kickstand.

Sephiroth promised himself that he and Kadaj were going to have a long conversation about everything he did and didn’t know how to do at some point… but right in the middle of Shinra HQ during the early stages of lock-down was neither the time nor place.

“So, someone just left a motorcycle laying around on display with a full tank and its keys in the ignition?”

“Well, there was a note on it!” Kadaj ripped a small piece of paper that had been attached to the cycle’s handlebars with string and tossed it to a bemused Sephiroth.

“Yes, this is my private motorcycle, so you mechanics had better take good care of my girl first, then you can worry about the showroom’s truck... Tseng.”

A quick search of the nearby area confirmed that there was indeed an unremarkable pickup truck with a pair of keys in the ignition and a quarter full tank on display. It had just barely enough room for five people and quadruped to squeeze into, though it helped that everyone agreed the best way to make sure Reeve didn’t try anything funny was by having Stargazer lay directly on top of him.

“Are Kadaj and I the only ones who can drive?" Sephiroth asked.  "We'll likely be pursued, so I'd prefer to keep a clear line of sight... and to not have to split my attention between casting and driving."

A red gloved hand rose in answer.

“Lower Midgar isn’t exactly real big on licenses, but you’d be surprised how much time I spend behind the wheel,”  Tifa answered with a smile.

Sephiroth tossed her the keys and took position next to Barret in the truck’s bed.

XXX XXX XXX

“Reno, why are you drinking with a dog in our office?” Tseng couldn’t help but ask as he entered the Turk’s Lounge.

Reno heaved a heavy sigh as he took a swig and then poured a generous dollop of liquor into a bowl that he’d swiped from the commissary.

“The poor guy just had his first run-in with Debbie.  Besides, what do you expect me to be doing with him? The stupid mutt already won all my mad money!” the Turk grumbled in irritation.

The “stupid mutt” in question smiled broadly enough to let its tongue lull out as its tentacle waved back and forth.

“Shut your mouth! You are not better than me! Any son of a bitch can win money if they draw into an inside straight, that doesn’t mean they’re actually good at poker!”

XXX XXX XXX

Shinra HQ Lobby

“Guys, we finally made it!”

End Chapter

AN: First off, let me apologize.  Me and my editor Fenrir have put our heads together and come to the conclusion that due to its sheer size Masamune is an impractical weapon to have a sheath for, you’d need to either practically bend your arm into a pretzel in order to be able to draw it properly from a sheath because of how long it is.

That said, it is also equally impractical to imagine that Sephiroth just walks around having to carry his massive sword all the time.

So instead we’ve decided that the best /most logical approach is that Sephiroth wraps Masamune up in black cloth and attaches it to his back, and the covering is bound with a slipped hitch so that instead of drawing the blade from its sheath, he just releases the covering.  Yes, wrapping the blade up again post-battle will take longer than simply sheathing it, but Sephiroth has an easier time moving really fast than turning his arm into a tentacle in order to successfully get the leverage he needs to draw a sword longer as tall as he is from a sheath.

I’m sorry I didn’t realize this/go with this approach sooner in the story, but I figure better late than never, so we’re calling this an official retcon based on my inability to visualize all the physical issues involved in properly wielding Masamune.

Secondly, if you didn’t recognize it, “Stamp” is the name of a cute cartoon dog that Shinra uses in its propaganda in the remake.

Thirdly, to be clear, “Stargazer” is still Red XIII or… well saying more would be “cheating”, but if you’ve played through FFVII you can probably guess.  It’s going to be a temporary title that exists only until he feels like sharing his real name with the rest of Avalanche.  I’m not trying to sneak an OC in here, it is just that this story’s version of Sephiroth wouldn’t ever find “Red XIII” an acceptable name for the person in question due to his own past with Hojo.

Chapter 16: It's my time to rule at last, fifteen years have I been waiting to sit upon my throne.

To Sephiroth’s surprise, Shinra didn’t even make a token effort at chasing after them, though after what he’d just been through he was just fine with leaving a gift chocobo’s beak unexamined.

Eventually, the two stolen vehicles managed to make it to the very edge of Midgar; whenever Sephiroth saw that gigantic ‘off-ramp’ it left him with a strange sense of melancholy.  Even Midgar, the very seat of their power, had been ill-treated by Shinra; it was a city more abandoned than fully built.

“So, we’re really leaving Midgar?” Kadaj glanced back as he killed his cycle’s engines and dismounted.

“For now. I’d like to think that our recent show of force will make Shinra behave in a more circumspect manner, but we wouldn’t be doing this if they didn’t have a bad habit of fouling their own nest. We’ll be back to deal with them properly once we get the chance.”

“Tifa, you really think that our best shot at saving the Planet is out there?” Barret wondered as he gazed out at the bright noonday sun.

“I don’t… I don’t know if what’s out there is going to help us save the Planet the same way that destroying more mako reactors will.”  She admitted, clearly somewhat reluctant about parting ways with the city that had been her home for five years.  “But Avalanche, our Avalanche, we’re as much about saving people as saving the Planet. I trust Sephiroth, and if he says there are a lot of people out there who are going to need saving very soon...”  

“The sooner we put this place behind us and I return home the better,” huffed Stargazer as he hopped out of the truck-bed.

“Well then, what are we waiting around for? Let’s get going.” Barret ordered as he headed for one of the nearby construction cranes.

Since he’d managed the climb up from Lower Midgar, the prospect of climbing down to the grass below didn’t seem to bother him.

“You know, for a showroom piece, this truck was awfully well stocked...”  Aerith announced playfully before holding up a canteen, a few ration bars, and then roughly a thousand Gil.“

They may be a bunch of professional bad guys, but the Turks did leave us some lovely going away gifts,”  She reflected, before on a hunch checking under her chair and discovering a silvery survival blanket.

Surprised by the Ancient’s foraging, Tifa checked under her own chair and discovered a second blanket.

“This is suspiciously convenient...”  

“Damn right, why would Shinra’s favorite killers want to play nice with us? Unless they laced the stuff with poison...” Barret scoffed.

“Oh, let me try! The doctors taught me how to taste at least five different poisons!” Kadaj instantly volunteered.

“That won’t be necessary; if Tseng wanted us dead, planting explosives inside the vehicles would have been a far more effective way to express it.  That said, please pass me the canteen.”

“Thirsty?”  Aerith half teased as she handed it over.

Sephiroth discharged a powerful electrical pulse into the container.

“Cautious.  We’ll also need to sweep the blankets when we get a chance; Shinra was already working on waterproof tracking devices no larger than a penny five years ago, so I’m sure they’ve only gotten better since then.  He’s giving us this equipment because Shinra needs Aerith alive and healthy.  They might not have the resources to take her back on hand at the moment, but they’re not going to forget about her any time soon; they’ve lost a battle, not the war.  This is all getting a lot more complicated than I imagined it would be, and now we’ve found ourselves fighting on two fronts.” 

“Only General Sephiroth would imagine that forcing Shinra to own up to all the shit they’ve done could be taken care of in a single weekend.  What sort of ‘second front’ are you talkin’ about, then?”  Barret demanded.

“We might be out of Shinra HQ, but we still need to put more distance between ourselves and Midgar before I have time to explain.  Once we get to Kalm, I promise.”

Rather than focusing on trying to further convince Barret, something he’d hopefully accomplish by laying out how he’d ended up spending five years in the Lifestream, Sephiroth focused his attention on Aerith.

A part of him pondered offering to help her get back to Sector Five.  That part, he subjected to a high-speed slideshow of his track record at convincing Aerith to favor the path of least resistance.  Internal dissent quashed, he decided to save time by just accepting the inevitable.

“Welcome to Avalanche, Ms. Gainsborough.”

For reasons he couldn’t even begin to fathom she suddenly broke out in giggles, though when they finally subsided she noticed his raised eyebrow of confusion.

“Sorry, it’s just that back in Don Corneo’s dungeon, Kadaj told me the exact same thing!  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to join Avalanche back then, but, somewhere between them trying to murder tens of thousands of people and kidnapping me... I'd say my opinion of Shinra  has soured just a bit.”

XXX XXX XXX

“Goodbye, Midgar.”

Aerith sighed wistfully as she finally planted her boots on the grass surrounding the world’s largest city.

“Is it your first time outside, too?” Kadaj promptly piped up.

“Yeah, twenty-two years… almost seems a shame to break a streak like that.”

“Twenty-two years? Wow, we both lived our entire lives in Midgar, but yours is way longer than mine.”

“Well, how old are you?”

“Coupla months.”.

Aerith blinked. Then she blinked again.

“Oh that’s right, I never got around to telling you- I’m a quick grown clone of Sephiroth!” Kadaj ‘explained,’ for a given definition of the term...

Aerith blinked. Then she blinked again.

She decided for the moment to focus on a simpler matter: a familiar yellow flower which was still attached to Kadaj’s outfit.  That said, it wasn’t looking anywhere near as healthy as it had the last time she’d laid eyes on it; it’d already lost one petal and all of its others were starting to wilt.

“I’m surprised you’re still carrying around that flower; it probably won’t last more than another day or two at this rate.”

Kadaj glanced down to the small island of gold in the middle of a sea of black and silver and then shot her a look that suggested that what she’d just said was as befuddling to him as the revelation of his true age had been to her.

“No matter what happens to the flower, no matter how it looks… its still the flower that Sephiroth gave me because we’re brothers.”  He insisted earnestly, without a discernible trace of irony or self-consciousness.  "That said, um... if you want to tell me how to take better care of it, I’m all ears!”

“You know, I think that me giving botany lessons would actually be something of a first; most guys I sell flowers to just end up giving them to girls they like.”

Which was how a few moments later she wound up having her own yellow flower neatly attached to her dress.

“My brother seriously cares about you, so that means I know I’m gonna like you, too!” Kadaj promised cheerfully,

Aerith had given the flower to Sephiroth, who had given it to Kadaj, who had given it back to Aerith… a part of her couldn’t help but wonder if they would somehow end up repeating the cycle if she managed to convince Sephiroth to take another flower.

She was jolted out of her musings by Barret loudly clearing his throat.

“Look, there’s something that we’re gonna have to sort out, and now that we’re outside of Midgar, this is as good a time as any. Back in Seventh Heaven, you and your brother were walking into my headquarters, but now it’s you, your brother, this Ancient you met, and this lab rat cat dog you freed. Not only that, but you’ve even got Tifa in your corner. Since Avalanche taking our revolution on the road is your idea, I think it’s time that you took charge.”

Silence hung in the air for a few moments.

“Thank you for your vote of confidence, Mr. Wallace.”

“Doesn’t take a genius to know when a train has to shift tracks. Though if you’re willing to take some advice from a subordinate; you might want to try and build some relationships rather than just giving orders. You could start by calling me ‘Barret’.”

XXX XXX XXX

“I wanted to say...thank you for showing restraint and not blowing up Shinra HQ on your way out.” 

Barret was glad he had his sunglasses on; it meant that their captive wouldn’t be able to notice the way his eyes widened in shock.

“Blow up Shinra HQ? You really think that we’d destroy an entire office building full of corporate drones just to get at the assholes running the place? I mean, if we’d had the chance, redistributing the wealth of the top five floors across a few city blocks does have a certain appeal....” Barret couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

“You destroyed Reactor One, and  Reactor Five.”

Barret was a little surprised at just how much anger and pain there was in Reeve’s voice.

“After Reactor One went down, something happened which limited the loss of life, but Reactor Five’s destruction was every bit as bad as my projections. Not just ‘corporate drones’ but ordinary people who died from mundane things like car crashes when the traffic lights suddenly went out.”

The Director of Shinra’s Urban Development Department was actually on the tall side, but right now he reminded Barret of an especially yappy chihuahua… you wouldn’t have expected a dog like that to have so much anger in it.

Not that Barret was going to let himself be railroaded.

“Don’t go blaming that on us! Avalanche’s plan called for pinpoint sabotage of the reactor pump to shut it down while minimizing fallout.”

“Do you honestly think that would have made a big difference?  Maybe a hundred or so fewer people would have died, out of a death toll of thousands.  Do you know how many riots there were in Sectors One and Five?  Above and below the Plate!  I’ve spent my entire life watching how people will tear each other apart the moment they get one excuse… and Avalanche causing blackouts gave two entire sectors an excuse.”

“It ain’t in people’s nature to tear each other apart if they get an excuse, it’s in Shinra’s!  They’ve been dripping their poison in everyone’s souls, making us forget how to care about one another, how to care about the Planet!”

“You want to talk about caring about the planet?  My upgraded reactors improved the Lifestream to mako distillation process to be nearly twice as efficient as the prior versions!  I donate over a quarter of my salary to various charities!  Which do you think has saved more lives, my spreadsheets or your bombs?”

“Well ain’t you just the grease that makes it possible for the wheels  of industry to keep on spinning?  Doesn't matter who gets hurt, doesn't matter why, all that matters is they gotta spin...  Besides, they weren’t all our bombs; that smug shitheel Heidegger somehow found out what we had planned ahead of time. He must have wired the entire reactor with explosives so that we’d end up looking like monsters. Sounds like it worked...”

“You expect me to take you at your word alone that Shinra would be willing to sabotage its own reactors and kill thousands of people just to win a propaganda victory?”

“...Operation Damocles.”

“Touche ,” Reeve admitted.  “In light of that, I’ve got no right to assume that Heidegger and the President weren’t plotting something that insane, but I wasn’t involved in it.  My job was keeping a roof over people’s heads, not blowing them up!”

“Guess that must have made you feel pretty darn proud of yourself… wonder how many people in Sector Seven would have been thankful for that ‘roof’ as they watched it come screaming down on them.”

“I told you, I did everything in my power to stop the Plate from being dropped.”

“No, you did everything you could that you thought you’d get away with while still being part of Shinra.”

Reeve raised a finger defiantly, but no words left his mouth.  He gritted his teeth, his steps slowing as Barret left him in his wake.

XXX XXX XXX

There was a famous Wutain curse “may you live in interesting times”, and at the moment Leslie Kyle understood its meaning all too well.

Sector Six was an “interesting” enough place to live most of the time, but right now, not only was everyone trying to grab various pieces of Don Corneo’s empire in the wake of his apparent scarpering, but there were growing rumors that Sector Seven was about to start flooding the market with slightly-used military surplus.  That meant the local arms merchants might soon be taking a bath; one that would be unlikely to make them smell any better, but would leave a lot of people with a lot of guns very angry about the loss of their cornered market.

This was a recipe that had never led to anything unpleasant happening to anyone.

Which left Leslie asking himself if he should make a play to become one of the new rising powers in Wall Market, or simply strive to maintain his position as a trusted lieutenant to the rich and powerful. If he went with the latter, which “rich and powerful” figure should he align himself with?

In short, if he never saw another person with silver hair in his life again, it would be too soon.

“Leslie! Old buddy, old pal, I could use favor...”

Not that redheads hadn’t brought their own share of troubles to his door.

“Yes, Reno?”

“There’s something I want. I have a briefcase with Gil in it that I’d be willing to bet you want. Deal, or no deal?”

XXX XXX XXX

With John Shinra’s death, Reeve Tuesti was now one of the six richest men on the Planet. So why exactly was he spending the night sleeping in the middle of nowhere on a survival blanket, squeezed between two men who wouldn’t hesitate to kill him the moment he disobeyed their orders?

Because just once he’d broken the golden rule of business: “lead, follow, or get out of the way”, that was why. Because given a flat choice between loyalty to Shinra and 60,000 people’s lives, Reeve had discovered that there were lines he wasn’t willing to cross.

Just like that, Reeve had his answer; he finally realized why he was here- he'd thrown in his lot, whether he realized it at the time or not  He’d already betrayed Shinra once; pondering what it would take to get him to do it again was just quibbling over the price.

XXX XXX XXX

Reno lay sprawled across the couch in the General Affairs Auditing Department Lounge. Yesterday had been a busy day: he’d needed to perform interoffice sabotage of the Science and Research department, lost all his gambling money to a dog, the entire building had been raided by Avalanche, President Shinra had been killed, he’d eaten an especially succulent zolom steak that would have otherwise gone completely to waste, needed to oversee the installation of a replacement door to the lounge, and, worst of all, hadn’t been able to watch The Causeway Relay.

Now, with a normal show he could have just set his DVR or caught it on reruns, but that was a mite hard when the show in question was illegal, so reruns were a little on the sparse side and the last thing that you wanted to do was to leave a digital footprint of your illicit viewing habits.

Thankfully, you didn’t spend long as a Turk- let alone the Turk Commander of Vice- without getting to know a few people in Midgar’s extensive black market and so now he had his very own physical copy of last night’s episode. 

Some people might be dead, a lot more injured, to say nothing of the value in company assets that had been damaged or stolen, and he might have committed some light treason, but Reno wasn’t going to let a few minor details get in the way of being able to enjoy his favorite show.

A few moments after loading the disc, the TV’s screen flickered from an unbroken blue background to revealing a middle-aged man in a suit with dark brown hair in glasses sitting behind a desk.

“Tonight: how many of our brave boys in blue must lay down their lives before the people of the slums realize that Shinra loves them to death? Then, why are the poor lucky enough that all the horrible things happen to them- when will rich people finally get the sympathy they deserve?  My guest is a Wutain ninja who snuck into Midgar so that they could answer the most pressing question of our times, Avalanche: great threat to civilization as we know it or greatest threat to civilization as we know it?  This, is the Causeway Relay!” announced Stefan Causeway, who had been considered Shinra’s number one enemy in the honeymoon between the first version of Avalanche being put down and its second iteration springing up.

The door to the Turks’ office opened, but Reno didn’t bother to turn off the broadcast; Rude and Tseng already knew about his viewing habits, and anybody else with permission to automatically open that door would only bother to visit Shinra HQ’s third sub-level in person if they already had enough evidence to sign his death warrant.

Except that to his surprise; it was neither his fellow Turks nor a SOLDIER death squad, instead, Dark Nation trotted into the room.

It seemed that Hojo hadn’t been kidding when he’d talk about how the dog had a higher security clearance than Reno; Rufus’ bodyguard must have been implanted with some kind of microchip that caused any door in Shinra HQ to automatically open at his approach.

Dark Nation took one look at the TV screen and then whined pathetically.

“Fine you can stay and watch, but if you tell anyone about this, I promise I’ll take the time to actually read some veterinary textbooks and then, well, let’s just say snitches don’t get bitches.”

Dark Nation jumped up onto the couch, landing directly on the Turk’s stomach.

His view of the TV screen now obscured by a face full of waving tentacle, Reno was somewhat less than pleased.

XXX XXX XXX

One large pillow procurement and protracted argument later; the episode viewing resumed, with Dark Nation still on the couch and Reno on the pillow.

"If the people of Midgar are going hungry, then clearly they need to figure out a new diet, and that brings me to tonight's 'The Phrase'." Stefan paused dramatically.

There was a metallic “clang” sound effect as a graphic slid onto the screen bearing the words "Let them eat Mako."

"Just think about it, how much better off would we be if we could just figure out how to eat Mako? I mean, the stuff is limitless! Professor Simon Hojo says so, and if you can't trust a man who wrote his thesis statement on how Doctor Moreau failed to follow proper safety procedures while experimenting with dangerous animals, who can you trust?"

As Stefan spoke, metallic silver words slid onto the screen declaring the message "Also forgot to create a control group.”

XXX XXX XXX

“Morning Reno.”

“Morning Rude.”

“Nice pillow.”

“Ho ho, very funny, hah, hah, it is to laugh.”

XXX XXX XXX

“Reno, you know I’m going to need to confiscate that recording once you’re done with it.”

“Couldn’t find your own?”

“No, I’m trying to keep you alive so I don’t wind up even more shorthanded. Heidegger has been kneecapping our department for years, and now when Shinra needs the Turks more than ever, you two are the only field agents I have. Speaking of, after today’s meeting with our new president, I want you to go out there and buy a copy of every newspaper in Midgar; we need to find out what people are saying and see if any of it is useful.”

“Even the crazy one that’s wrong all the time?”

“Especially the crazy one that’s wrong all the time. By sheer random chance, they’re bound to get something right eventually, and we’ll need all the help we can get to track down whoever killed President Shinra. Right now our evidence amounts to ‘had a sword’ and that’s it.”

“Okay, but just so you know, the last headline of theirs I remember seeing was about Shinra putting together a special squad of ‘Dog SOLDIERs’ who would hunt down terrorist werewolves.”

“Since we’re going to try and make this place presentable for the new President, I want all your Causeway Relay merchandise hidden. You can start with this mug.” Tseng picked the item in question off of his desk and tossed it to his subordinate.

It was times like this when Reno was glad that he’d hollowed out the floor of the lounge to make his very own bolthole; not only was it a good place to store contraband, but it’d also helped him become good friends with Billy from the Environmental Impact Assessment Department. Billy’s office was located on floor B4, directly below the Turks’ lounge.

Some people might have gotten upset at having a co-worker plunge through the ceiling when  they dug too deep, but Billy had simply asked Reno if he wanted any medical attention.

“Why do you have so much of this stuff anyway?”

“Because Stefan Causeway and I have got a good system going; every time I land a round within a foot of him, he sends me free merchandise! It's like the best promotional giveaway ever! I’m especially proud of the Causeway Relay T-shirt I got for attaching a block of C4 with no blasting caps to his car,” Reno boasted, holding up the shirt in question.

Said shirt depicted the Turk standing next to Stefan Causeway, Reno’s right arm around the host’s shoulder and his left hand pointing proudly at Stefan’s chest while the broadcaster bore a look of dour resignation bordering on scorn.

“You do realize that C4 costs more than a T-shirt?”

“Not when it's actually play-doh! I scammed him but good!” Reno scoffed, amazed his boss thought so little of him.

XXX XXX XXX

“Are you sensing something?” Sephiroth inquired, his tone polite, with a faint hint of reverence.

Deep down Aerith wished that she had been. If she’d had some sort of special “Cetra-sense” that was telling her half a dozen Shinra helicopters were about to swoop down on them and deploy four times that many SOLDIERs, it would have meant she wasn’t just jumping at her own shadow over and over again.

Which, in point of fact, was exactly what she was doing. Jumping at her stupid shadow cast by the stupid too bright gigantic ball of orange fire hanging in the sky that somehow managed to convey a sense that it bore a particular ire against her. She’d been outside of Midgar for less than twenty-four hours, and already she was missing the Plate's comforting presence.

“No, I’m just trying to make sure we don’t get ambushed.” She tried to recast her nerves in the best light possible.

“So what is it like when you’re talking with the Planet?  I mean, I’ve been able to hear lots of stuff that other people can’t, like the time I played the headphone beeping game with the Doctors.  They were all really impressed and insisted that they’d make sure that all the troopers in the place knew how to handle their K9’s without dog whistles….”  Kadaj interjected.

At the word “dog whistle” both Sephiroth and Stargazer winced.

“But I’ve got no idea what it’s like to talk with an entire Planet.  What does its voice sound like?  Oh!  Is the Planet an ‘it’ or does the Planet have a gender?”  

“I don’t really talk with the Planet, it is more like it talks to me.  Even then it’s not really ‘talking’ it’s more like… smells from things that aren’t there, music that no one is playing…”  She tried her best to explain.

“To hear the call of Gaia herself is a rare gift indeed.”  Stargazer intoned solemnly.

“Her.  Right, got it.”

“As my brother pointed out, if you’re relying on your conventional senses, we’d probably detect any approaching Shinra troops before you, and Stargazer before either of us. As for the local wildlife, it’s been years since I’ve been attacked by a monster while on foot.”

Aerith wasn’t sure if Sephiroth was boasting or simply stating a fact. She’d never paid especially close attention to the Wutain War, and even though he wasn’t the only First Class SOLDIER she’d met, she’d never expected Sephiroth to be quite so… Sephirothic.

“Yeah, I sorta figured. The problem is that what I know in my head never seems to quite make it down to my gut.” She lamented.

“Look, you just got kidnapped by Shinra and joined up with an Avalanche cell within the last 24 hours.  Being on edge after having your whole life turned upside down is natural.”  Tifa reassured her.

“It’s… it’s a lot to take in your first time out of Midgar isn’t it?” Sephiroth admitted, a faraway look in his eyes.

“Too much...” Aerith agreed, as once again the sight of the endless fields of green grass sent an unexplained shiver up her spine.

“But isn’t that what makes it awesome?  There’s so much stuff out here to see!  Grass, trees, birds, clouds, dirt…”  Kadaj eagerly began to rattle off each and every single object he could lay his eyes on at the moment.

Sephiroth decided to take a different approach.

“Agoraphobia is one of the most commonly experienced phobias, though I’m surprised that a Cetra would have it. It’s an atavistic throwback to when being out in the open meant being in danger of being ambushed by monsters, or even other humans."

"'We don’t get to choose the things that we’re afraid of, only how we react to them'….” Aerith murmured with a wan smile.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed.  "What was that?"

"Oh!  It's just... one of the last things my mother- my birth mother, I mean- said to me.  Why?"

"It's... nothing.  Just hearing ghosts.  Did you- no, he'd have died before you were born.  Don't worry about it."

XXX XXX XXX

Rufus Shinra surveyed the boardroom that was finally his. With his father’s death, he was at last free to take command of the Shinra Electric Power Company and lead it into the future. Except that, at the moment it felt more like he was having to drag it kicking and screaming into the future….

“Professor Hojo, would you care to explain to me why the head of Shinra’s Science and Research Department, is delivering his most recent report to me, Through. A. Slide. Show?” Rufus growled through gritted teeth.

As if on cue, Dark Nation, previously lying peacefully at the feet of his chair, growled even more fiercely. Rufus had only just met his new bodyguard, but so far he was turning out to be the one part of his father’s organization that seemed to be living up to its potential.

“Mr. President, please remember that I put in, and was approved for, a week-long working vacation in Costa Del Sol just before John Shinra’s untimely demise. Even simply being able to physically attend this meeting is an accomplishment unto itself. On top of that, my intern, who normally handles the task of transcribing my work to a digital format, insisted that she would not be coming to the office until we could go at least a week without a life-threatening security failure.” Hojo protested.

Rufus rolled his eyes in exasperation. When he was done finally auditing this organization, his first major task was going to be having a long discussion with Hojo about that vacation he’d insisted on leaving for right before Avalanche had attacked Shinra HQ. Had he known something was about to happen, and if so, how? Even more importantly, why hadn’t he shared it with the rest of Shinra?

“Since I know you haven’t been kept fully up to date on the important work we do in the Science and Research Division, it’s important that you understand exactly what we are dealing with at the moment. It all starts with the subject dubbed ‘Jenova’ discovered thirty years ago by myself… and Professor Gast, frozen in the area of North Crate.

Hojo brought up a picture of Jenova.

“Where is its head and why does it have an eye for a nipple?” Rufus winced.

“I will explain the missing head in due time. As for your other question, Jenova has proven to be extremely morphologically flexible. Still, its discovery was a boon for Shinra; without it, the SOLDIER program would have never left the drawing board.”

Hojo brought up another slide of Jenova and this one led to Rufus tilting his head to the side to make sure he was seeing it correctly.

“This… this is what the Ancients look like? But Sephiroth looks more or less human...” Shinra’s new President pondered.

“Oh, I’m afraid that in your previous position as Vice President you weren’t cleared for that information… When we originally uncovered Jenova, carbon dating confirmed that it hailed from the time of the Ancients, but after years of further testing we eventually determined that whatever Jenova is… it is not an Ancient. The Science Department had begun to suspect that such might be the case when Sephiroth displayed no ability to speak with the Planet, but did possess superhuman physical capabilities.”

“I can’t help but notice, you used present tense to describe Jenova,” worry began to creep into Rufus’ voice.

“That is correct, Jenova is very much alive. It was why we had to take somewhat extreme cautions to keep the subject contained; the system is energy intensive to the point that it was decided a mako reactor itself would be the safest place to store Jenova. Until five years ago, Jenova was held in the Nibelheim Reactor, but after the incident that took place there, it was decided that Shinra would no longer keep all their eggs in one basket.

During said incident, Jenova’s head went missing, so Shinra decided to amputate Jenova’s limbs and store Jenova in five separate locations.” As Hojo explained, a new slide was brought up highlighting key Shinra reactors across the Planet.

“While its torso was stored here in Midgar, one limb each is kept in Junon, Nibelheim, Rocket Town, and Corel. We mustn’t lose access to these limbs or else I’ll have to devote considerable time to developing new cultures of Jenova cells from our existing samples. I’ve already needed to order a container full of them to be flown here from Junon to avoid delays.”

“That’s fascinating Professor, but you were going to tell me about Sephiroth?” Rufus all but growled. 

“Sephiroth is the one weak link that is putting the entire Great Chain of Industry at risk of fracturing. Shinra has tens of thousands of SOLDIERs, hundreds of them First Class; why have we not been able to. Deal. With. One. Man?”

Tseng was so skilled at reading body language he could be considered bilingual, but none of that expertise was necessary to see how Rufus’ words had affected Simon Hojo.  The young president hadn’t so much struck a nerve as taken a jackhammer to it.

“You think Sephiroth is weak?  You think that Sephiroth represents something other than the very pinnacle of humanity, the avatar of science’s ability to allow us to shape this world to suit our whims?  The embodiment of our triumph over the cruel randomness of evolution?  You truly want to know what makes Sephiroth so special ?” Professor Hojo was all but spitting his words now.

“Mr. President, since you clearly require a most thorough education on the subject of Sephiroth, allow me to provide you with one....”

XXX XXX XXX

“Is it okay if we take a break?” Aerith had been the one to ask, but Reeve could barely hide his gratitude.

He had been worried that the other members of Avalanche might insist they spend all day walking until they finally reached Kalm. Luckily, since Ancients seemed to have physical limits closer to those of baseline humans than SOLDIERs, the rest of the group deferred to her needs.

“I don’t suppose any of you happen to have a PHS you could lend me?” Reeve asked awkwardly.

His request was rewarded with a sea of stares ranging from confused at best to accusatory at worst.

“You think we’re just going to give you a PHS so you can call in a Shinra strike team to come rescue you?” Tifa scoffed.

“Look, I’ll admit that this is my first time being taken hostage, but I’ve spent enough of my life balancing budgets to have a rough idea of what to expect; sooner or later, things that aren’t providing some kind of value get the axe.

So, in the interest of getting some green or black, well ‘not red’, in your books; I’d like to show you just what I’m capable of. For example; how would you like to be invisible?”

“That sounds awesome!” Kadaj eagerly agreed.

“To be clear, I’m speaking metaphorically.”

The youth’s face promptly transformed from euphoric joy to a disappointed pout.

“As the Director of Urban Development Department, there are all sorts of things I can accomplish. I can even give you the instructions instead of typing in the commands myself if that makes you feel more comfortable.

“Wouldn’t the system administrators have just cut your access after we captured you?” Barret pointed out.

“Funny story, all of the other heads of Shinra’s major departments refused to allow some random computer specialist to have any sort of control over their accounts. Thus, every time I raised the topic of my department’s cybersecurity system no longer having a single point of failure, it was shot down for fear it would end up happening to them as well.

“So the person whose job it is, and the only person with the access to lock you out of the system… is you?” Sephiroth felt vicarious embarrassment at Shinra’s slapdash security procedures.

“Correct. For some reason, though, I’m not feeling especially predisposed to taking the necessary steps at the moment. Granted, President Shinra also had the codes to lock me out… but…” Reeve could only shrug his shoulders; he wouldn’t be dancing on John Shinra’s grave any time soon, but it was hard to mourn a man who was about to order your execution.

“So when do we turn ‘metaphorically’ invisible?”

It was clear that if Kadaj had a PHS on him he would have already handed it over.

“I don’t have the spreadsheets on me at the moment, but Kalm has at least a hundred security cameras set up across the city, and Junon has something like three times that many. All of them are capable of triggering an alert in Shinra HQ should they record anything that matches certain programmed parameters.”

“Which would bode ill for our cause?” Stargazer interrupted.

“Correct. One look at anyone with silver hair and green eyes with vertical pupils, someone with a gun for an arm, or something on four legs with red fur and Shinra will start mobilizing their forces.” Reeve agreed, making sure to tilt his gaze downwards slightly to make eye contact with Stargazer.

He still wasn’t quite used to the idea of holding a conversation with what his mind insisted on considering “an animal”, but hopefully, it would get easier with practice. For the moment he just kept reminding himself that he’d spent years holding conversations with Palmer, and between the two of them, he suspected Stargazer would doubtlessly prove to make for a more intelligent conversationalist.

“However, even though those alerts trigger the deployment of Public Safety personnel, everything relating to how they’re triggered belongs to Urban Development. So, if you give me a few moments with a PHS, or a few more moments giving someone else instructions, I’ll remove all alarm triggers that would be sprung by your group. Then, to help add a layer of verisimilitude to anyone glancing at the data tables, I’ll replace them with nonsense reasons to trigger an alarm, like ordering two dozen First Class SOLDIERs to be deployed if the cameras detect someone pretending to be trapped in an invisible box or if anyone wearing a fedora says ‘M’lady’.”

“You can access Shinra’s systems on my PHS?” Tifa unclipped the device in question from her belt but seemed unsure about handing it over.

“Even an off-the-shelf model should be able to detect my voice identification pass phrase. I tried to warn the board that Shinra needed two-factor authentication linked to a physical object, but President Shinra had just read an article about how your average well-designed password could withstand a sustained dictionary attack until the heat death of the universe.”

“I thought I spoke your two-legged language fairly well…. how many of those are real words?” Stargazer asked.

“Wait, since you’ve got access to Shinra’s systems, can you like…. send a message that they can’t track?” Aerith abruptly joined the conversation.

“It would depend on multiple factors: the contents of the message, who exactly it is being sent to, and what format it is being sent in. Emails are always forever no matter what you might have heard someone else say, and if I’m supposed to get in touch with someone that Shinra already has their eye on it’ll be trickier.”

“Could you give me a chance to call someone without it leading to Turks kicking down their door?”

Reeve interleaved his fingers and then cracked them with the air of a gymnast limbering up before their routine.

“Thank you for asking for only a phone call. So, what we’ll need to do is bounce this call through half a dozen different networks, with a slightly more obvious network in Cosmo Canyon being involved about halfway up the chain, though it shouldn’t be too obvious, otherwise it wouldn’t work as a false final origin point.

“I can’t really obfuscate who is going received the call without access to their hardware, so instead we’re going to throw up some digital chaff by having this mysterious account place calls to random people all over the planet with the actual call you’re placing being buried around a third of the way through the process.

“Not only that, but once the call concludes I’ll need to adjust some variables on the Shinra’s phone call recording tables.  I’ll make it so that one archive period will end just before the call starts with the next not beginning until just after the call ends. So, with all that in mind, the shorter your call the better.”

“Stargazer, if it helps, you’re not the only one who thinks he’s making up words.” Aerith admitted.

XXX XXX XXX

Tseng sat in stony silence as Hojo prattled on about exactly why Sephiroth was the most powerful SOLDIER who had ever been created, with special emphasis paid to how he clearly surpassed any of Doctor Hollander’s G-Type SOLDIERs. So far as the Turks’ Commander was concerned, it amounted to little more than Hojo patting himself on the back for having created a massive bomb from twigs and rocks, ignoring the fact that they’d forgotten to include a way to disarm it.

As Hojo’s slide show finally concluded and the lights were turned back on, Tseng tapped out a quick text message on his PHS before addressing the room.

“Thank you Professor Hojo for that enlightening presentation, if you have no further comments, the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department would like to catch our new President up on our own current status. To that end, my second in command has prepared a presentation.”

Reno swaggered into the conference room with all the restraint of a plane coming in for a crash landing. Tseng knew that his subordinate was stone-cold sober, yet Reno moved with the comically exaggerated style of an actor seeking to let the entire theater know their character was three sheets to the wind. The red-haired Turk was surrounded by the most powerful people in the world, and yet his body language suggested that they should be overawed by the prospect of being allowed to share a room with him .

There were people who wondered why shortly after taking over command of the Turks; Tseng had decided to make Reno his second in command as opposed to Rude. After all, Rude was stoic, competent, unflaggingly loyal to Shinra, and seemingly without so much as a single vice. Reno, on the other hand, seemed to be without a single virtue, unless you counted being unfailingly able to locate the cheapest purveyor of alcoholic beverages in any town within five minutes of arriving.

Not only that, but Rude was two years Reno’s senior, so why had Tseng promoted a reckless man-child to a position of power when he had such a superior alternative?

Because Tseng wanted to make it very clear to everyone at Shinra that if one day he should die under mysterious circumstances, Reno would happily step into Tseng’s shoes… and then burn the entire company to the ground to avenge his fallen superior. If anyone didn’t like dealing with good, solid, reliable, stuffy Tseng, they could imagine a future with Reno running the Turks instead.

It was also why Tseng was letting his subordinate give this presentation: so that Shinra’s newest President would learn exactly why it was in his best interest to make sure nothing unpleasant happened to the current head of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department.

XXX XXX XXX

“R&R Productions Present: How Everything Went to Hell and it was not the Fault of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department. Copyright MMVII, Shinra Electric Power Company Production, all rights reserved.”

“Why is THIS. Also. A. Slide. Show?” Rufus demanded.

Reno somehow doubted that the richest man in the world would be especially accommodating to hearing that the first Shinra-run orphanage Reno had been sent to was so poorly funded that it didn’t even have a television, just a slide projector. Which in turn, was why he’d had to start his criminal career by breaking into convenience stores to steal chemicals from their 24-hour photo-development labs to create his own slide shows.

Needless to say, somewhere in the process of setting up a makeshift darkroom he should have realized he was inevitably going to get caught. As it turned out, however, young Reno had been showing “initiative”, “creativity” and “a real go-getter spirit of pulling himself up by his own bootstraps”; so instead of being punished, he was rewarded with a transfer to a much more well-funded orphanage in Upper Midgar. That one had set about preparing him for a bright future in the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department. From this, Reno had learned the important lesson that if you were going to break the rules, make sure to do it spectacularly .

“Operational security. The slides are physical objects so they can’t be hacked via computer. Not only that, but instead of putting all our eggs in one basket like with a video recording, multiple slides have to be stolen to present any true danger. If those Avalanche Terrorists managed to grab only a single slide then they might wind up with just this...” Reno clicked his remote revealing the same image as before, but now bearing a seal in the middle depicting a caricature version of himself with a broad smile giving a thumbs up while an equally caricatured version of Rude stood beside him, face utterly impassive.

"They might even end up only stealing this...." Reno clicked the remote.

Unlike the previous slides which were drawn in a quick and carefree cartoonish style, this one was rendered in the sort of exquisite detail only a man who had been forging banknotes before he’d gone through puberty could produce; it depicted Aerith standing on a stepladder embracing Sephiroth as the two kissed passionately.

Sounds of unseemly delight emerged from the director of Shinra’s Science and Research Department.

“Moving on, I think it’s important that when all is said and done, we assign the blame squarely where it belongs for the recent attack on Shinra HQ….”

The fourth slide revealed an image of Reno, Rude, and Tseng standing in a triangle around an exaggeratedly fat version of Heidegger pointing fingers squarely at the girthy general.

“What is this outrage?!” roared Heidegger.

“Please hold all questions until the slide show is finished.” Reno insisted, before moving onto the fifth slide, a huge Plate suspended by a single string above Sephiroth.

“Now, I think we all know exactly how we got into this mess. Operation Damocles was a bad, bad plan.  With it no longer being double superduper top-secret classified, I’ve discovered that it basically amounted to ‘let’s hit Sephiroth with a rock’, and please no comments from the peanut gallery about how it was a big rock.”

Another slide depicted the string being cut and the Plate having fallen and completely crushed Sephiroth. The one after that, however, depicted an extremely angry Sephiroth, to the point that his entire face had turned red and he’d sprouted devil horns, breaking the Plate and tossing it aside.

“Even though it was kicking the mother of all hornet nests, Operation Damocles amounted to: step one, drop the Plate on Avalanche, step two... Idunnaknow.” This comment was emphasized by a slide containing a huge red question mark.

“Step three, profit.” A slide showing Heidegger, President Shinra, Hojo, and Scarlet clinking glasses together while standing on Sephiroth’s corpse.

“A more well thought out operation might have taken into account that terrorists aren’t known for good long term planning and destroying an entire Sector was bound to have some blowback. As the saying goes, failing to plan is planning to fail. So, now that we’ve covered how I’ve seen my World of SOLDIERcraft guild come up with better plans than Operation Damocles on drunk raid night; let’s move onto the next ball that got dropped, because typically you have to visit an amateur juggling school to see this many!” Reno scoffed before advancing slides once more.

The newest one showed a drawing of Shinra HQ with a gigantic arrow helpfully captioned “ATTACK HERE” at the front door.

“When Operation Damocles failed, for reasons that are still unclear, the obvious call to be made was to reinforce Shinra HQ with all the SOLDIERs in Midgar who were still fit for combat. Except nobody bothered to do that.

Nobody bothered to do anything, and since many of the SOLDIERs who routinely work at Shinra HQ were rendered wounded, missing or killed in action during Operation Damocles, we were less heavily defended than normal! Not only that, but the brand new Valkyrie gunship we were going to use to guard our secret route into and out of Lower Midgar, was instead, on General Heidegger’s direct orders, committed to Operation Damocles, where it got Sephirothed. So, at this point, not only were we understaffed but also deaf and blind to any threats rising out of Lower Midgar.

All of these failures led to the completely expected outcome of Sephiroth tearing through this place like shit through a goose.”

The next slide was surprisingly non-scatological in nature, but instead depicted a gigantic goose with Sephiroth’s hairstyle slapping Shinra HQ with its wings.

“Now, the question must be asked, what exactly were the agents of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department doing during this mess? The three of them were assigned to work in Shinra HQ themselves at the time, weren’t they?

Well, much like a wimpy kid on dodgeball day, I happen to have a doctor’s note….”

For the first time, one of Reno’s slides wasn’t hand-drawn but instead a photo.

“Here are the results of a physical I was given by Shinra’s very own Doctor Percival Cox. He noted that over the course of Operation Damocles; during which I was the only Shinra field operative to have been in position to activate the Plate Release System, I suffered injuries that on a normal human would amount to: a spinal fracture, several broken ribs, enough voltage run through my body that my hair should still be standing on end, one black eye, a chipped tooth, a broken nose, general trauma relating to exfiltrating via my partner snagging a helicopter with his grappling gun while we were both in free-fall, and also breaking a nail so badly that it could only be set right by a specialist in Sector Six.

He concluded that healing magic can only do so much and that I should avoid engaging in direct combat if at all possible for at least forty-eight hours. As for my partner...” Reno brought up another slide as he rattled off a list of all the physical maladies that Rude had suffered recently.

“So, the two of us can hardly be blamed for following doctor’s orders. Which brings us around to our commander Tseng.” The remote clicked.

Tseng wasn’t sure why his second in command insisted on drawing him with an 8-pack.

“What was Tseng doing during this mess? Well, you see it’s a funny story, but being a Turk Commander means that sometimes you have to actually, well command! He felt that as one of the few higher-ups inside Shinra HQ who was neither figuratively nor literally losing his head, he should try to focus on coordinating our military response. His quick response to the Class J biological containment breach is the reason that this building isn’t currently growing tentacles and or eyes.

The simple truth of the matter is that right now, there are too many fires and too few Turks to deal with them...”

A slide depicting Tseng Reno and Rude desperately sloshing around water on Midgar despite all eight sectors being on fire and only having three buckets to work with.

“What is the root cause of this problem? Well, what is the root cause of every problem? Money! In this case, our budget.”

Reno moved onto a slide depicting the trio of Turks in shabby versions of their suits, well shabbier in one case, holding out an empty cup before a “Will garrote for Gil” sign.

“Our budget, much like my bosses’ abs, can best be described as totally shredded. The solution? Give us more money.” The next slide depicted Rufus Shinra dumping a chest full of Gil coins onto the Turks.

“Depending on how much money we’re given, that will determine exactly how many new Turks we’re able to employ and how effective they’ll be. Based on certain information I recently gained access to, Professor Hojo has been doing some very impressive things with cloning; so allow me to present a proposal I like to call the Division of Labor Initiative. It involves creating four clones of me who we’ll call Rena, Rene, Reni, and Renu for simplicity’s sake, that way each clone will only have to come into the office one day a week. The plan would work even better with a fifth clone but let no one say I’m not open to compromise…”

XXX XXX XXX

Elmyra Gainsborough was in the words of a movie she’d once seen, getting too old for this shit . She didn’t regret any of the choices that had led her to this particular outcome, but at the same time, she wished that the universe could have given her a chance to do something with her life rather than feeling like it was stuck in a time loop.

How else could you explain the fact that she was once again sitting in her home as the only caregiver for a little girl she’d only just met? She didn’t resent the fact that Marlene was even younger than Aerith had been… but she did resent that she was so much older than she had been back then; that hardly seemed fair.

She had no way of knowing if Barret Wallace was dead or alive, and in some ways that was going to be even worse; it left them in a limbo where she didn’t know if she needed to help the young girl cut ties with someone who had passed on, or hold out hope for a parent who might one day return.

Even worse, she didn’t know if her own daughter was still alive or not.

Something had happened at Shinra HQ, everyone knew that, just as everyone knew that John Shinra was dead, but all major news sources refused to agree on anything else. She had noticed one interesting thing though; she hadn’t heard the word “Wutai” once.

Well, maybe just once, when an interview with Godo Kisaragi involved him insisting that Wutai categorically denied the accusation that it had offered any funding to the cell of Avalanche responsible for the attack on Midgar’s mako reactors, and had produced the necessary paperwork to prove it. Although it was never directly stated, the obvious implication was that this cell of Avalanche was so extreme that even Wutai refused to condone their actions.

A neat pivot to start defusing tensions with Wutai so that Shinra could focus on solving problems in its own backyard.

Not that picking apart global political ramifications of corporate broadcasts got Elmyra one single step closer to figuring out if her daughter was even alive at the moment...

The phone rang. Elmyra yanked it to her ear before the second ring.

“Hello?”  

Elmyra recognized the voice at once, but she needed a few moments to convince herself that it was real and not just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Baby?  You doing alright?”

“I’m safe. I can’t come home right now, but I’m somewhere safe with friends.” Aerith answered, sounding nearly as choked up as her adoptive mother.

Elmyra felt a crushing weight lift from her chest, it might not be the same as having her daughter back home, but it was infinitely preferable to being left completely in the dark.

“Been up to no good?” Somehow she found the strength to almost tell a joke.

“That’s one way to put it. By the way, make sure to take good care of your guest, there’s someone out there whose heart goes out to her.”

Well, that was another worry she could let go of, it seemed Marlene’s father was still alive.

“Glad to hear it, but is there somebody taking good care of you?” Elmyra could already tell that she was unlikely to get any clear-cut answers during this conversation but it wasn’t going to stop her from trying.

“You know me, I’ve always had plenty of friends.”

If Aerith had been in arm’s reach Elmyra would have wanted to wash her mouth out with soap for that lie. It was hard enough just being a single woman’s adopted daughter, let alone all the other ways that Aerith had been different as a child.

“Any idea when you will be able to come back?”

“Not until I never have to leave  again.”

Click

Elmyra only had the polite chime of a dial tone for company now.

Her eyes had turned watery before she’d even managed to hang up, but... tears of sheer relief were at least a welcome surprise.

XXX XXX XXX

“I’m sorry that I had to overhear that.” Reeve awkwardly apologized as she handed him back Tifa’s PHS.

The moment he got the chance Reeve began typing away on it with blistering speed. If anything, he was going faster than he had before she’d placed her call.

“I thought you already did most of the work to cover my tracks?”

“I just realized that there’s someone I need to get in touch with, if Avalanche is willing to grant me permission, of course….”

XXX XXX XXX

“Here you go, Boss, latest edition of the Midgar Mouthpiece, the only paper brave enough to tell people the real news. Today’s top story, ‘Ghost of General Sephiroth and Chairith Painsborough stage home invasion against local businessman.’" Reno announced while laying the paper on Tseng’s desk.

“Any idea where they got the photo from?” Tseng pondered.

Reno had carried the paper all the way from Lower Midgar, and never once contemplated that question.

“She’s got good form with the chair though.” The Turk’s commander idly noted.

“I taught her that, the important part is to make sure to attack from the correct angle, don't be standing perpendicular to the asshole whose day you want to ruin.  That’s my little sister from a completely different set of parents!” Reno could feel himself getting a little misty-eyed finally seeing proof that all the time he’d spent teaching Aerith about fighting dirty hadn’t gone to waste.

“Sephiroth looks strange in this picture... We need to find out if there was any sort of video evidence of this event.”

“Might be a little harder than normal Boss, Don Corneo probably blames us for getting him on Avalanche’s shit list, and I’ve even heard rumors he's not in charge anymore.” Reno advised.

“Do you want to go lean on normal human gangsters, or do you want to get involved in another operation directly targeting Avalanche?”

“I’m gonna go lean on some gangsters so hard that they’ll think I’ve come down with lumbago!”

End Chapter.

AN: Stefan Causeway is very much the FF7 equivalent of Stephen Colbert, doing his previous shtick (right down to his show having a quasi-rhyming name) of presenting himself as a farcically exaggerated proponent of a cause he disagrees with.

Anyway, most of the stuff I reference but don’t directly state in this story should be accessible to anyone with a reasonable knowledge of FF7 from just having played the original video game, but in this particular case, something risks falling through the cracks unless I directly state it, so that’s what I’m going to do. Reeve’s mother Ruvie is still alive and lives in Upper Sector Five, that’s who he’s calling.

Also, I’m sorry, this is supposed to be an Aeriseph story, not the Reeve has a midlife crisis and then explains cyber-security and the exploitation thereof 101 while Shinra presents slideshows story.

On top of that, I'm also sorry that my version of Rufus and Turk interaction is going to diverge somewhat heavily from their canon relationship, but don’t worry, I know what I’m doing and why.  It is worth pointing out that since the Turks got so much whitewashing from the compilation (especially in Before Crisis when they get to be out and out heroes compared to genocidal original incarnation of Avalanche 1.0) there is a point where it is easier to just have the Turks be at least mildly better people than they were in canon than to change the expected audience reaction to them.

I mean lets be honest, during the first section of the game when you’re in Midgar the Turks are presented as Fascist Secret Police, once you leave Midgar though they suddenly turn into Bulk and Skull from the Power Rangers, laughably harmless bullies who certainly would not murder fifty thousand people by dropping ten thousand other people on top of them.  This is not a transition that the original game handled well, and it remains to be seen if the remake is any better at it.  So yeah, Tseng, Reno and Rude will all be mildly better people than in canon, as you already saw with the Aerith Protection Squad.

To make up for that stuff, here’s an omake of Reno’s presentation.

XXX XXX XXX

“Well Mr. Vice President, since I’m detecting a certain amount of negativity in the room towards my slide show, I do have a backup plan. This is a little something that I managed to put together with Debbie from Marketing. It will quickly catch you up on the hard work we do in the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department...”

Reno shoved the slide projector off the table and Rude replaced it with a DVD player into which Reno slipped a disc. While the disc loaded Reno took the time to turn off all the lights in the room to create the correct ambiance.

“When you want somebody gone, and you don’t wanna wait too long, call the immediate murder professionals!

Hand grenade or cyanide, we’ll make it look like suicide! The immediate murder professionals!

We’ll kill your husband or your wife, we’ll even let you keep the knife! We’re the immediate, murder, professionals! KIDS DIE FOR FREEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeee!”

Reno made sure to harmonize along with his recorded voice on the song’s coda, it was what really sold the piece.

XXX XXX XXX

In closing, for a quick moment of “the more you know”, the most common cause of agoraphobia (fear of open spaces) is genetic. I think it’s a fair assumption that Aerith seems to suffer from at least a minor case of agoraphobia in canon given her comments from Crisis Core about being afraid of the sky, and in the remake as well since she talks about “missing the steel sky” when leaving Midgar.

Granted, on the other hand it might just also be the loss of a lifelong constant which could probably make anybody somewhat uneasy as my editor Fenrir is quick to point out.

Chapter 17: So you got what you always wanted, so you got your dream come true, good for you!

It had all been simple back in Midgar.  Not exactly“easy”, but at least simple: get out of President Shinra’s office, escape from Shinra HQ, get far enough away from the city that Shinra wouldn’t be able to locate them with one lucky patrol sweep…  One “simple” straightforward task after another; that was the life that Sephiroth was used to.  Now though, now that he and the others were finally clear of Shinra’s immediate reach, cloistered in a room in Kalm that was honestly a bit small for the number of people, he had a far more complex task to worry about.

“Thank you all for putting up with my previous vague comments on this matter.  You’ve been owed an explanation, and… now you’re getting one.” Sephiroth began, looking around the inn’s suite and the six other people occupying it.

“Before we start, you sure our hostage should hear this?” Barret pointed out, glaring warily at the hostage in question.

Once they’d entered the room and locked the door behind them Tifa had attached a pair of zip ties to Reeve’s arms, making sure to bind them behind his back.

If Sephiroth had been in Barret’s place he might have asked the exact same question, but for better or worse, those details Sephiroth knew which Shinra didn’t probably wouldn’t even interest them in the first place.  Still, since his position as Avalanche’s leader was only recently established and backed by little beyond his own reputation, he was loath to simply lead by fiat...

“This isn’t my story alone; Miss Lockhart shares an equal part in it.  I don’t have any objections to him hearing what I have to say… do you?”

Tifa grimly shook her head.

“So let's hear this story that’s got you acting like a spooked cat...” Barret prompted.

“Indeed, we are gathered, we are safe, let the tale be told.” Stargazer declared.  Unlike the others, he’d opted to remain on the floor and so was speaking slightly louder to make up for it.

Sephiroth sighed heavily; talking had never been his greatest skill as a leader, and there were precious few things, mainly his childhood, that he’d prefer to talk about less than this.

“My part in the story begins in September 2002; I’d just received orders to investigate some mysterious malfunction in Nibelheim’s mako reactor.” Sephiroth began.

Then he paused and gestured awkwardly in Tifa’s direction.

“Nibelheim was... a town. I mean, it’s the only place I’ve lived aside from Midgar, so I’m not sure how much I could truly say about it. It was a small town, small enough that I knew the names of all the other kids my age growing up. The only thing we had that made us special is Shinra built its very first mako reactor there, up in Mt. Nibel so that the town itself would suffer less harm if something went wrong.

“That plan worked, sort of.  Because back in August of ‘02, people who worked at the reactor had started going missing...”

Heads swiveled back in Sephiroth’s direction and he resumed his half of the story.

“When word got back to Shinra, they sent out the Turks, who traveled to Nibelheim by conventional means. When the Turks realized just how powerful the local monsters were, they called for reinforcements. While they’d needed over a month to reach Nibelheim, Shinra arranged for me to be brought most of the way by airship in less than a week.

“However, Nibelheim’s mountainous nature meant that the last few miles needed to be covered by truck. There were five of us assigned on that mission: myself, my second in command and fellow First Class SOLDIER Zack Fair, and three troopers who would act as our adjutants.”

With a small, choked sound, Aerith’s face turned paler than Sephiroth’s own.

“Just to be clear… that would be the same Zack Fair who captured Fort Tamblin during the Wutain War?” 

Her reaction more or less confirmed the theory Sephiroth had been contemplating since Sector Six’s playground.

“Correct; the capture of Fort Tamblin signaled the end of all organized Wutain resistance, with the war wrapping up four months later.” Hopefully, by sticking to the impartial facts, he could avoid causing her further distress.

Aerith didn’t say anything in response.

She simply stood up and walked out of the room.

The silence she left in her wake filled the room with an almost physically smothering sense of oppressive tension.

After initial moments of hesitation, Sephiroth realized the obvious truth: if he was ever going to truly lead this Avalanche cell, it’d be because they had faith in more than just his ability to kill things.

“I’ll… be back.” It was strange; Sephiroth should have felt elated over getting a chance to delay telling this story, but for some reason, he only felt worse.

XXX XXX XX

“Aerith.”

She silently turned to face him, her expression hard to read, but putting him in mind of a cracked mask.  She was clearly struggling for composure and seemed to be fighting back tears; sorrow was the obvious cause, but her posture showed signs of ill-concealed pain, as well.  She seemed somehow...off, and it took him a moment to realize why:.

That ever-present smile that had afforded him no end of frustration over the past several days had, he realized, cemented itself as part of his mental image of her- to the point that its absence was jarring.

“Zack was the mysterious boyfriend you spoke of.” Sephiroth tried to make his voice as soft and gentle as possible, not that he had much practice.

Emotional intuition wasn’t exactly his strong suit; in fact, it was pretty much his weakest, but he’d gotten enough pieces to put this particular puzzle together.

/1: Aerith had dated a First Class SOLDIER.

2: Aerith had described the SOLDIER as never having a nasty thought in life.

3: Zack had wanted Sephiroth’s help to try and impress a girl from Sector Five of Lower Midgar, where Aerith lived.

4: Aerith displayed far greater familiarity with Zack’s military feats than she should have.

5: What other explanation would cause Aerith to display such an extreme emotional reaction to Zack’s name?\

“Yes, he was.”

“When was the last time you talked with him?”

“Right before he left for a mission...”

“To Nibelheim?”

“Yeah….

“Honestly, the worst part was that he was gone for so long and I never heard from him.  I figured that a famous SOLDIER like him must have just met some new girl and fallen so head over heels in love with her that he never bothered to get back in touch with me. It hurt to think about, but I could mostly just… not think about it.  Only fair, right? 

Three months ago, though, I felt Zack enter the Lifestream.” Aerith’s gaze dropped, and she seemed to shrink in on herself a little more.

Sephiroth winced, surprised at how the news stung. He’d known his subordinate’s fate ever since their conversation in the Lifestream, but he’d assumed that Zack had perished shortly after Nibelheim as a result of Shinra tying up loose ends.

If Zack hadn’t died until recently… was he responsible for Zack’s death because he’s spent so much time trying and failing to locate his mother in the Lifestream? Could he have saved Zack if only he hadn’t insisted on spending half a decade in the most selfish manner possible?

Grief wasn’t really an indulgence he allowed himself, but with guilt added to the mix, it was almost more obligation than indulgence.  If he could have saved Zack, and didn’t… what did he owe to the people harmed by his indolence?  A eulogy, at the very least.

“Zack Fair was… not a terribly good soldier.  But, he was an excellent fighter and a better man.  I haven’t had a lot of friends… but he was the only one that never really let me down.”

“You’re bad at this. I mean, really bad at this.” Aerith giggled.  “Thank you for trying, though.”

Whether he’d actually eased her pain, or just given her the distraction she needed to get herself under control, Sephiroth considered the cheerful barb to be a good sign.

“If you felt him enter the Lifestream, and as a Cetra, you can talk to people in it… does Zack have anything important he wants me to know?  A few days ago we spoke… briefly.  Very briefly, so if there was anything else...”

Aerith's bare fingers intertwined with his gloved ones, and they stood there in silence while she reached out to the Lifestream.

“Zack says you’re really bad at this.” Aerith abruptly announced before releasing her grip.

Sephiroth couldn’t help but wonder if she’d actually gotten Zack’s opinion on the matter..

XXX XXX XXX

Aerith preceded him back into the room.  He didn’t see any reason to comment on the fact that her new seat seemed to have been chosen so that no one in the room could simultaneously look at her and at Tifa or himself.

“To set the stage, the reason Shinra sent me in was that they weren’t sure if the people vanishing from the reactor was a result of natural accidents or the intentional sabotage.  Either way, Shinra had a problem, and they wanted me to solve it...”

XXX XXX XXX

At twenty-two years old, Sephiroth was, on one hand, the youngest General he’d ever heard of.  On the other, he was currently on his way to a town he’d never heard of in the back of a truck with no suspension or air conditioning.  Clearly his life was going places, but the jury was out on which direction..

“Settle down...” he sighed.

Zack was… Zack.  A big, friendly dog in the form of a spiky haired young man, full to bursting with a guileless exuberance that tired his superiors and inspired his subordinates.  In response to his commander’s words he stopped pacing… and instead started doing squats.

Sephiroth rolled his eyes.

Everyone in SOLDIER had their quirks; it was the natural side effect of how the procedure made them something other than a baseline human being; Zack’s was that he needed a way to deal with his excess energy.

Before the conversation could go any further, the entire truck shook.

“MONSTER!” the driver called out.

Sephiroth didn’t need to be told twice.

He was out of the truck in an instant and circled around in front of it in another-just in time to have his entire body be engulfed in flames, as a gigantic green dragon breathed a torrent of fire at him.

Sephiroth acknowledged, on reflection, that the truck’s lack of air conditioning was reasonably tolerable.

The dragon’s flames abated, leaving him unscathed but for a few smoldering patches on his coat.  Before it could launch another attack, Masamune’s wrapping fell to the ground.

He only needed one slice to open up the monster’s belly and a second to decapitate the beast for good measure.

Sephiroth patted out the flames, cleaned and rewrapped Masamune’s blade, and climbed back into the truck.  Weapons should always be cleaned and put away after use.

“Clear.” He informed the others, sitting back down in the exact same spot he’d originally occupied.

As the truck drove on, those seated in the back were able to get a good look at what had become of the dragon.

“Your strength is unreal.” One of the troopers accompanying them gasped in reverent awe.

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Cloud. You don’t need to sound so scared either, Sephiroth is on our side.” Zack insisted, resting a comforting hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Cloud?” Sephiroth repeated the name, surprised to see even Zack being so chummy with a normal trooper.

The trooper promptly threw the most energetic salute Sephiroth had ever seen.

“Cloud Strife, Shinra Trooper, at your service General Sephiroth!” Cloud introduced himself.

Zack eased Cloud’s arm back down to his side, clearly trying to get him to return to a less formal pose.

“Relax, Cloud, relax. Boss, I personally picked Trooper Strife to accompany us on this mission. He’s from Nibelheim, so his knowledge of the local area could prove useful.”

Sephiroth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Shinra had mentioned in their briefing that the town itself would be providing a local guide to get them to the reactor. Given Zack’s soft heart, Sephiroth expected that in reality, his fellow First Class SOLDIER was simply giving a grunt some undocumented extended leave to visit his hometown and family.

/Family…..\

XXX XXX XXX

“The rest of the truck ride was uneventful.”

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth stood at the entrance to Nibelheim and briefly turned his attention to his newest subordinate.

“So… how does it feel? To be home after all this time? I have no hometown… I wouldn’t know.” Sephiroth half asked, half explained to Cloud Strife.

He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it.

Boredom wasn’t enough to motivate this kind of oversharing, although it had indeed been some time since a mission had actually taxed his abilities. Nor was simple discontent, although lately he had indeed been struggling to find anything meaningful about his work. Increasingly, he wanted to be more than just a sword Shinra thrust into the heart of their biggest problems, but he didn’t have the first idea what he’d rather be doing.

Such a growing sense of unease about his place in the world was the only thing that could possibly drive Sephiroth to make “small talk,” especially with someone he barely knew.

“What about family?” Zack asked as he took up position directly behind his commanding officer.

“My mother’s name is Jenova; she died shortly after I was born. My father...” Sephiroth fell silent.

XXX XXX XXX

“So Jenova is the name of our, well, your mother?” Kadaj interjected.

“NO! No! No. I’m sorry Kadaj, just bear with me, and you’ll understand by the end of the story.”

XXX XXX XXX

/Who… who in this world could I possibly call my father?\ One hand clenched into a fist, before Sephiroth willed it to relax.

A father looked out for his son, a father taught his son how to be a man, a father taught his son what was right and what was wrong, a father protected his son...  Who had been there for Sephiroth when he’d most needed guidance and protection?  No one.

In the end, every “father” he’d looked to for succor had either been forced from his side, or willingly abandoned him.  Sephiroth had been born without a family, and he would one day die without a family.

The question was pointless; there was nothing there.

An unsettlingly mirthless chuckle won its way free of Sephiroth’s throat.

“What does it matter?” He stripped as much bitterness from his voice as he could.

Based on his subordinates’ posture, he hadn’t fully succeeded.

“Come on, let's go,” Sephiroth ordered, focusing on the mission made it easier to push aside all the troublesome thoughts that were suddenly trying to crawl into his head.

What was it about this place that put him so… off-balance?

XXX XXX XXX

“Miss Lockhart, would you care to take over?” Sephiroth suggested.

Tifa looked like she would have preferred to refuse his offer, but after taking a moment to gather her courage, she accepted.

XXX XXX XXX

These were supposed to be the most important days of Tifa’s life… she just wished she could tell herself exactly why they were so important. Everyone in town seemed to be all aflutter over the fact that General Sephiroth himself was coming to Nibelheim, and while Tifa could understand the feeling, she just didn’t share it.

Although it seemed that practically every other girl in town was hanging out of their windows hoping to simply catch sight of the Planet’s most famous SOLDIER, Tifa had something else on her mind. Was she finally going to put Master Zangan’s teachings into practice today?

Alas, deep down she already knew what the answer to that question would be. Shinra wanted her to be a guide to help them make their way through Mt. Nibel’s confusing caves, not because they needed a teenage girl to throw a few punches or kicks. When all was said and done, the town would be exactly the same as it had been before, except they’d be able to hang an asterisk with “Sephiroth visited here once” on the sign next to “site of the first Mako Reactor.”

“Hey Otto, have any luck yet?” Tifa greeted the town’s photographer, who unsurprisingly was staking out the center of town, seemingly accompanied by every single piece of equipment he owned.

“Not yet, and your father still won’t permit me to accompany you to the mako reactor; something about ‘Shinra’s proprietary information.’ Still, maybe I’ll get lucky if I wait around long enough; I want to take a picture of Sephiroth fighting a monster! You know, a real memorable shot!”

Although the topic of her and Otto’s conversation was more or less clear across town, somehow Sephiroth heard them. Tifa could think of no other reason why the silver-haired SOLDIER suddenly turned and flashed Otto a look that she’d spend the rest of her life only able to describe as “that thing Sephiroth did with his eyes that scared people”.

“You know, it's a lot brighter out here than I thought it would be.  I’m gonna go get my focusing cloth!” Otto stammered out before racing off.

Tifa admired the wisdom of that choice; not only would it get him out of Sephiroth’s presence for the moment, but when he returned, he’d have something to hide under.

XXX XXX XXX

Tifa felt an instinctual shudder run through her body when she first laid eyes on the wooden bridge leading further into Mt. Nibel.

“Something bothering you?” the younger SOLDIER, who had introduced himself as Zack, came to a stop behind her.

“I’ve had some bad experiences with this bridge before. Well not this bridge- there used to be another one around here seven years ago. It wasn’t as strong as this one, and was kinda rickety…. I’m sorta the reason the town put in a new one.” Tifa admitted with a slight flush.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine; the boss didn’t fight a dragon on the way here to be killed by a bridge.”

XXX XXX XXX

“About a third of the way across, the bridge gave out.”  Sephiroth reflected.

“I’m never crossing that bridge again.  Never. ” Tifa vowed.

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth reached a hand up under his hair; when he pulled it back, his gloves were slick with blood.

He shook it off and then checked a second time, this time the glove returned dry. Sure enough, it’d take more than a fall to seriously harm him.

The others might not have been so lucky, though; he’d have to locate them before any nearby monsters did. Luckily, a quick search revealed that he hadn’t lost any of his possessions. Not only that, but his ears could pick up the sound of water splashing nearby; no, not quite ‘splashing’, more like ‘lapping’…

Following the sound, he soon discovered one of the two troopers who had accompanied them into the mountains. He’d removed his helmet to reveal a head of spiky blond hair and was using his hands to lift water to his lips from a nearby pool.

“Trooper, don’t you know that stagnant water is more likely to be contaminated? What happened to your canteen?”

The trooper had evidently been so busy quenching his thirst that he hadn’t heard someone approaching, a failure in situational awareness that would need to be corrected- later.

“I’m sorry General Sephiroth, my canteen broke in the fall. I was trying to make sure I didn’t get dehydrated before we made it back to town.” 

Sephiroth recognized the trooper’s voice instantly- Cloud Strife, at least, had survived the fall relatively intact.

As the trooper redonned his headgear, Sephiroth took a moment to check his own canteen. Unlike Cloud’s, it hadn’t suffered any damage in the fall, so he handed it over to his companion who would doubtlessly need it more.

XXX XXX XXX

“From there, we located Zack and Ms. Lockhart, who had also landed fairly close together... but we never did find Sloan.

After, in all honesty, a little more time than I was truly comfortable allocating for a search, we had to work our way through a series of caves, but the monsters were easier to deal with than the bridge. Once we got to the reactor itself, Zack instructed Cloud to look after Ms. Lockhart outside while the two of us investigated the reactor...”

XXX XXX XXX

“Naturally, they never considered sending an engineer along to inspect the malfunctioning reactor…”

He and Zack might have the muscle to make their way to the reactor, but if the problem was some extremely technical matter like the camel flange had come loose on the spronsen sprocket, then the people of Nibelheim had better start constructing more windmills.

Traveling deep into the bowels of the reactor failed to yield any flickering lights or other blatantly obvious signs of disrepair. Instead, it yielded something far more unexpected...

“Jenova….”

Sephiroth read the word slowly, almost reverently.

It wasn’t just affixed to a nameplate over a locked door to the reactor’s core, that same name was present in big block letters on numerous crimson pipes leading into that same closed area.

“What… what is behind this door?”

He pressed on it and felt the frame resist him.

It was just an ordinary door, he could smash it to pieces with one good shove. All he had to do was want it badly enough, and Sephiroth could have his answers...

So why didn’t he?

It just… didn’t make sense.  Why should someone write the word “Jenova” multiple times in one room? Whoever it was might as well have planted a sign with “General Sephiroth, RIGHT THIS WAY” and half a dozen gigantic arrows all pointed at the locked door.

He’d gotten through the first two decades of his life without knowing anything else about “Jenova” other than her name. There couldn’t possibly be anything on the other side of that door that suddenly made all the pain and hardships he’d been forced to suffer into delightful daydreams of sunshine and lollipops… could there?

Sephiroth forced himself to focus on the reason he’d come here in the first place and reevaluated the room, looking for anything that might be broken.

Giving the room another extended examination he noticed one particular pod that seemed to be emitting small arcs of electrical energy periodically .  Listening more closely Sephiroth was able to detect that there was no sound of fluid flowing through the tube attached to this particular pod.

Down near the bottom of the pod was a valve that seemed to be a hair out of place… had it somehow fooled the system into thinking that the pod’s door was ajar and so the flow of mako to it had ceased?  Was that creating a backup elsewhere in the system if the total amount of mako being pumped into this room hadn’t been decreased?  Even the smallest fault could have huge consequences if left completely unattended….

“Hard to say how many different things are wrong, but this can’t be helping it. This valve has gotten misaligned.  Try to fix it, and I’ll see if anything changes...” he ordered Zack.

A few moments later once the valve in question was properly adjusted, the sparks ceased and Sephiroth could hear mako starting to flow into the pod once more..

That got them no closer to figuring out why it had broken or if the reactor was now in working order though. The pods had a viewing window but it was perversely placed so high up that even Sephiroth needed to jump to be able to use it. The moment he got a good look at what was inside, he wished he hadn’t.

He instantly jerked back and found that for once words completely failed him.

While Sephiroth was taking the time to get his thoughts in order, Zack took a look for himself.

“What is that?” he spluttered in shock.

“...Hojo’s work. SOLDIERs are people that have been exposed to carefully calibrated amounts of mako; they’re enhanced, but still human. These things… they’re what you get if someone decides to provide endless mako exposure without caring about decency, morality, or any other boundary you wish to name.”

“You mean… that thing used to be human?”

Sephiroth took a step back and gestured towards the dozen of tanks that filled the room.

“Yes. They could have been in those tanks for months, or even years. I doubt there’s anything left of their humanity though; how could anything human survive an experience like that?”

“You could.”

Zack meant it as a joke, Sephiroth knew he meant it as a joke… but the two words, lighthearted praise born of genuine awe, reverberated in him until he felt something fracture.

In that moment, it was as if all the finely crafted walls he’d built up throughout his entire life to help him deal with the world were crumbling to pieces. He could hear everything , each and every single mechanical “whirr” “clang” or “clink” rang his ears like deafening drumbeats. He could see everything , not just the sudden horror in Zack’s face, but each and every single individual cell that made up the other SOLDIER’s body. The more he looked the deeper he saw, cells broke down into atoms, atoms broke down into protons, neutrons, and electrons, those broke down into quarks… 

He shut his eyes tight and braced his hands against his ears trying to shut out the world around him. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn’t shut out his own mind….

No one human should ever be able to do the things that Sephiroth did; how much of his life had he spent building up those walls so that he wouldn’t be forced to face that simple fundamental truth?

“I’m… I must have been made the same way….” Sephiroth gritted, wishing that by giving voice to the words they might somehow be allowed to escape from his head and never return.

“What are you talking about?”

“I knew, ever since I was a child… that I wasn’t like everyone else. That I was unique. But, I always thought… that I was surely meant to be more than just a monster...” Sephiroth sighed defeatedly.

As if to perfectly punctuate his admission of guilt, the tank suddenly cracked open, dumping the misshapen monster on the reactor floor, shimmering jade mako following in its wake.

/Am I… human… or a monster like them?\

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth had to get to the bottom of this one way or another. That was the one thought that had kept rebounding in his mind all the way back down Mt. Nibel.

Where had he come from, what was he, and why did this town feel so familiar to him? The largest building in Nibelheim was called the “Shinra Mansion” because supposedly Shinra had done some sort of major research project there back in the late 70’s, only to abandon it in the early 80’s. Normally, he would have just passed it off as coincidence, but the fact that the company had done research there during the year of his birth, this place constantly feeling like it was somehow important, Jenova’s name being in the reactor… once was happenstance, twice was serendipity but three times was enemy action.

But who was Sephiroth’s enemy, and what action were they trying to take against him?

The mako reactor’s issue might have been resolved, but it would be easy for Sephiroth to insist that the group remain in town for a while to make sure they hadn’t missed any additional problems… that should give him all the time he needed to fully investigate the mansion.

XXX XXX XXX

Roughly an hour later, all Sephiroth had to show for his investigations of the Shinra Mansion was a mildly rusty tape measure.

Everything else about the mansion was unimportant and unremarkable: a piano, spoiled food evolving towards sentience, old smudged windows, and a bunch of potted plants, possibly also evolving towards sentience.

It didn’t seem possible that Shinra could have conducted research in such a place, unless they’d taken all the equipment and research papers with them when they’d left. That, or there was more to this mansion than met the eye.

Well, he had the tape measure; if he wanted answers, he knew how to find them.

XXX XXX XXX

After another hour of searching, Sephiroth indeed had some answers. He wasn’t an architect, but he had a pretty good head for numbers; good enough that he was sure that Shinra Mansion’s internal and external dimensions were too drastically at odds to be explained away by thick walls.

Hidden rooms now actually seemed more likely than not, so it was time for yet another tour of the mansion and this time he knew exactly what to be looking for… and to be listening for...

XXX XXX XXX

Roughly half an hour of rapping his hand against walls and listening for something that sounded unnatural later, Sephiroth pushed open a hidden door on the mansion’s second floor to reveal a massive staircase of semi-corroded and discolored wooden planks.

He cautiously descended the black spiral into the labyrinth below.

XXX XXX XXX

“In the mansion’s basement, I discovered a hidden Shinra laboratory complete with volume after volume of research notes. Sure enough, not only did they date back to the time of my birth, but they dealt with Shinra’s attempts to produce an ‘Artificial Ancient’ through a process they called ‘The Jenova Project’.

I spent a week straight doing nothing but poring over those books, a decision I’d come to regret for many reasons...”

XXX XXX XXX

“My mother's name is Jenova... Jenova Project... Is this just a coincidence?” Sephiroth sighed, momentarily tearing his eyes away from the book.

This was getting him nowhere fast. The books contained countless pages of information on Ancients and the Jenova Project, but it was written in such a… cagey manner. The purpose of proper scientific literature was to clearly and concisely pass along information to the reader; why didn’t these books do that?

Well, maybe that was why they’d been left behind in some hidden basement rather than taken back to Midgar to be further analyzed by Shinra?

“Jenova was confirmed to be an Ancient by Professor Gast… but how? Confirmed how ?” Sephiroth snarled, shaking a book as if he could convince the ink swirl about and provide less obtuse explanations.

What was Sephiroth even doing with himself, why was he doing this? This entire quest could have been based on faulty intel from the start, it relied on the premise that Hojo had been telling the truth when he’d said that Sephiroth’s mother was named Jenova.

But why would he have lied?

Because he was Hojo; “to see what happens” was as much justification as the man ever felt he needed.

“Maybe… maybe I just need a break...” Sephiroth winced, wondering how much time had passed since he’d started reading…. before being shocked to realize that he honestly didn’t know the answer.

A break was clearly called for at this point.

Sephiroth looked at the spine of the book he was currently carrying and then at the shelves, searching for where the book belonged.

/My son, I can take away your pain...\

Sephiroth’s eyes shot wide open and his head twitched about, trying to discover where that voice had come from.

“Show yourself!” 

/If only I could, my son… but I cannot… because they are trying to keep us apart.\

Sephiroth scanned the room, making sure that there were no possible hiding places he hadn’t checked. Then he took a deep breath.

“Auditory hallucinations are an established side effect of sleep deprivation. I am not going insane, I am simply hearing voices because of the extreme amount of stress I’ve put on my body.” Sephiroth insisted, trying to convince himself... and not exactly succeeding.

/My son… why do you not embrace my love? Embrace your mother’s love...\

The only thing worse than hearing voices that weren’t real was trying to hold a conversation with them.

“...Jenova?”

So why was he doing it?

/Yes, my son… my... Sephiroth.\

The book fell from his numb fingers, but he didn’t even hear the sound of it hitting the floor.

“Why… why am I only hearing you now?” Sephiroth called out to the empty room.

/You already know the answer, my son. You were always so smart… so strong…\

“The door labeled ‘Jenova’ in the reactor, it was labeled that because...”

/Because the vile humans sealed me away behind it. They fear my power, the only thing they fear more is your power, my son.\

Sephiroth found himself rooted in place, unable to move, unable to do anything but focus completely and utterly on the conversation.

“Hojo. Hojo is to blame. Hojo needs to pay.”

/They ALL need to pay, my son.\

“...Why?”

/The world is cruel. The world is wicked. The world does not respect us, the world turns a blind eye to our legacy. Humans turned their back on us, they ran, they were cowards then and they are cowards now. Only the Cetra are truly fit to inherit this Planet, and you are the greatest Cetra to live in millennia. My son, you are the only one who can save the Planet from calamity.\

“If I am a Cetra, then I am a failure.” Sephiroth hissed, gesturing at the teetering stacks of books, the cryptic chronicle of his creation.

/No... you are powerful, you are perfect.\

“I have never heard the voice of the Planet… does that alone not make me unworthy of the title?  I am not a Cetra, I am not even human… On my own I am a monster, and in the hands of another I'm just a weapon, a tool for killing… 

/You are perfect, my son. We Cetra are so powerful, and yet this world is ruled by humans- why? Because they are vicious and cruel; while we care for the Planet, they only care about themselves. The garden has become over-choked with weeds and only a cleansing fire can set it right. You, my son, are the first of the New Cetra.

New Cetra who can turn humanity’s ways of war-making back upon them. Who can repay them in kind for how they have abused us. You are perfect, there is no one who could be better suited for this moment. The planet does not need another pair of ears to hear its voice cry out in pain, it needs a pair of strong hands with which to enact its vengeance.

Do you not see? Every indignity that you have suffered, every pain you have endured, they are the fires within which you were tempered to become the perfect blade of the Planet’s retribution. Your heart is so noble and pure, for how else could you even for a moment imagine showing any sort of mercy to those who have wronged you so?

You are perfect my son. Embrace your heritage as the defender of the Planet, embrace your mother’s love...\

XXX XXX XXX

“And then?” Kadaj asked, leaning forward so intently he was at considerable risk of joining Stargazer on the floor.

“Then? Nothing...”

“Nothing?” Barret grumbled, clearly finding this a less than satisfying response.

“I don’t know what happened after Jenova ‘said’ those words to me. The next thing I was aware of was...”

XXX XXX XXX

“Boss... Boss… Boss… you okay? Come on Boss, you aren’t gonna make me fill out a mission report that says you sliced a dragon apart in seconds but got killed by a bookcase are you?” Zack Fair pleaded.

Sephiroth’s eyes shot open.

“Zack… you’re… really here, right?” He whispered, extending an arm pleadingly.

His hand was seized by both of Zack’s.

“Figured the threat of paperwork would do it! All right, let's get you on your feet. Then, I don’t care what you say, you’re leaving this place and we’re getting a meal together. Even Shinra’s greatest general can’t read books on an empty stomach forever...” Zack chattered  as he hauled his commanding officer upright.

Sephiroth could slowly feel strength returning to his limbs, but he didn’t try to stand on his own.

He leaned against his second in command like he was an oversized spiky black-haired pillow.

“Zack Fair… you are the best thing in my life.” Sephiroth sighed, his eyes bleary and unfocused.

“You’re gonna give people the wrong idea if you keep talking like that.  My girl back in Midgar is gonna get jealous if she thinks that she’ll have to compete with you and your luscious locks !” Zack half joked as he began to lead Sephiroth out of the room, supporting the general as if he was walking wounded.

“Do... you smell smoke?” Sephiroth asked, not sure if his brand of delusion had suddenly taken a turn towards the olfactory.

“Yeah...” Zack admitted after taking a moment to breathe in deeply through his nostrils.

Sephiroth gently pushed Zack away, wavered on his feet- and took off running so fast his subordinate had trouble keeping up with him.

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth’s hands were curled into tight fists as he grappled with the painful memories.

“I can continue to explain exactly what Zack and I found when we left the Shinra Mansion… but there are important parts of the story that even I don’t know. I can keep going all the same if you request it...” he offered

Eyes slowly turned to Tifa, whose posture was more less a perfect mirror image of Sephiroth’s.

“No. No. I’m not afraid to tell my part of the story, not even this part.” Tifa insisted though she got up off of the bed and began to pace as she explained what had happened to her...

XXX XXX XXX

Tifa heard a scream and ran downstairs.

Her father was lying on the floor, impaled by a jagged piece of wood that might have once been a fencepost, blood spilling from his body, his lips still open in a now silenced scream.

Standing over him was a Shinra trooper.

“Wh….at?” 

The Shinra trooper laughed, a hollow, alien cackle.

Then he slammed a fist into the cabinet by the front door, effortlessly shattering it, producing several more jagged chunks of wood. That was impossible; only a SOLDIER should have been able to do something like that.

“Why…?” Tifa whimpered, none of this made any sense.

“You still… you still don’t recognize me! Of course you don’t! Why should you? I was always invisible to you!” The trooper snarled.

Then he reached up with his free hand and unstrapped his helmet. A simple shake of his head sent it bouncing to the floor.

Tifa found herself confronted by a familiar head of spiky blond hair, but the blue eyes beneath it now glowed with mako exposure.

“Do you remember me now?” demanded Cloud Strife.

Tifa’s knees gave out and she crumpled to the floor next to her fallen father.

“Why… why did you kill him?!” she gasped, for a few brief moments too angry to be frightened.

“He was always trying to keep us apart! Do you realize how much it hurt to let him blame me for you doing something as stupid as trying to find your dead mother by climbing Mt. Nibel? I was willing to let him though, so that you could be happy! So that you could still be his perfect daughter!

“What did it get me, though? An entire town that thought I was a freak! That’s why I had to go to Midgar! That’s why I had to prove how great I could be, to come back to Nibelheim a hero as great as Sephiroth!

“But it turned out that Midgar was the exact same as Nibelheim! Full of people who thought I wasn’t good enough! Who couldn’t see how great I could become! They said that I would never make it as a SOLDIER!

“They were all so stupid, so wrong… I was the perfect candidate for SOLDIER! That’s what my new mother finally understood!” he ranted.

“New... mother?” Tifa stammered in complete confusion.

“All my fake mother did was try to keep me trapped in this stupid town because she wanted me to be weak! She wanted me all to herself because she wanted me to be her helpless baby forever! My new mother, my true mother, has shown me how to be strong!

“If I could just get stronger… then even Tifa would have to notice me… that’s what I always told myself. I was right, I’ve finally gotten stronger, and now you’ve noticed me!”

Then he jammed the wooden shard deep into Tifa’s chest.

“NOW, YOU CAN’T IGNORE ME!” Cloud roared as he yanked it free. 

She pulled back, tried to open distance, but he was on her in a heartbeat.  Tried to defend herself, but he ignored a punch that should have broken his nose, stabbed through her guard like her arms were made of damp cloth.  Over and over again, punctuating his screaming tirade.

“NOW! I! FINALLY! MATTER! TO! YOU!”

Tifa’s vision swam, then faded as her world descended into an endless haze of pain.

XXX XXX XXX

“That’s the last thing I can clearly remember from Nibelheim,” Tifa admitted, as she finally finished pacing and slowly returned to the bed.

Kadaj watched her carefully as if he wanted to say or do something but evidently couldn’t figure out what, so he simply sat there and waited for Sephiroth to resume his version of the story.

XXX XXX XXX

The two SOLDIERs emerged into a fiery hell.

Perversely, Sephiroth almost felt relieved at the sight of the entire town going up in flames. This, unlike his personal struggles, was a problem he could deal with.

“I’ll start putting out the fires; you search for survivors.” Giving orders in times of crisis came naturally; unlike phantom voices, raging flames were a foe that he’d already fought and bested many times before.

“ Blizzaga!”

XXX XXX XXX

A short while later, Sephiroth had the blaze under control and Zack returned from inspecting what remained of Nibelheim.

“I found one survivor!  At least, she was still alive the last time I laid eyes on her about-” 

“Show me.”  Sephiroth interrupted.

The two raced off at top speed to a nearby wrecked house that contained one body that had been desecrated beyond recognition- and the only survivor either of them had been able to locate.

“Hold on girl; you’re not gonna die, I promise you. You’re in a bad way, but my boss can do anything if he sets his mind to it!” Zack tried to reassure her, though it was hard to tell if she could hear him; her eyes were still open but she seemed to be staring at nothing.

Sephiroth recognized their survivor as Tifa Lockhart.  “I … didn’t mean for any of this to happen… I’m sorry.” 

Everyone else Sephiroth had come across had been killed quickly, if sloppily; why had Tifa been singled out for a prolonged painful death?

“How bad is she?” He needed actionable intelligence before he could offer her anything more than words.

“She’s torn up pretty badly. Broken ribs, looks like some organ damage… her heart’s in one piece, though, and her lungs…  uh, could be worse.  Her spine’s intact, and I’ve been able to stabilize her with healing magic, but... she’s lost a lot of blood, Boss...

That last part was exactly what Sephiroth didn’t want to hear. Shinra pharmaceuticals or magic could heal many injuries and "speed the recovery" of most others; blood loss though, that was something which could slay even SOLDIERs.

“Keep her warm. I’ll be back,” Sephiroth promised.

In theory, he could have saved time by bringing Tifa with him rather than making a two-way trip, but carrying an injured woman at speed was bound to exacerbate her injuries. So Sephiroth beat a blistering pace back to the truck that they’d parked just outside of the town, glad to see that it was still in one piece and not currently on fire.

“If this girl dies because you cut corners...” Sephiroth began to lay a preemptive curse on the head of whatever quartermaster had been responsible for outfitting this particular truck should it prove to be undersupplied as he flung open its passenger’s door and checked its glove box.

Heedlessly tossing aside several maps, he eventually unearthed a red and white metal case adorned with the symbol of two golden snakes curled about a staff, the Planetwide recognized symbol for medical supplies.

Sephiroth raced back to Tifa and Zack, his mind going every bit as fast as his legs.  He wasn’t sure how, but somehow he felt certain that this had only happened because he’d come to Nibelheim.  Causing death was all he’d ever been good for; it was all he’d accomplished during the war, death had struck down those close to him after the war, and now the reaper’s scythe had claimed an entire town...  Was he truly cursed to bring death with him wherever he went, or did he have a chance to save a single life, to prove he wasn’t bound by some immutable law?

Sephiroth popped open the case, and quickly started digging through its contents.  Since blood loss was by far the leading cause of death for any SOLDIER who made it off the battlefield in one piece, every Shinra medical kit contained the equipment necessary to perform a transfusion.

Hopefully, he’d gotten here quickly enough to make a difference.  The signs were less than encouraging; Tifa’s eyes were still open, her chest still rose and fell, but all the color had gone out of her face. Looking at her unearthed unpleasant memories of the last time he'd seen someone that thoroughly blanched…

/Genesis…\

XXX XXX XXX

“The problem is the mako energy that seeped in through the wound...” Doctor Hollander had explained.

“Is it treatable?”

“First, he’ll need a transfusion.”

Sephiroth had stepped forward without words or hesitation; he’d been Genesis’ opponent in that duel, he’d allowed himself to be provoked, allowed the fight to escalate... 

“You aren’t viable.”

Just like that, the most powerful SOLDIER on the Planet had felt utterly powerless.

XXX XXX XXX

The most powerful SOLDIER on the Planet refused to be utterly powerless twice.

He rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, expecting that he’d be needing his left for other matters before long.

“Zack, find a vein.”

XXX XXX XXX

“So you decided to give her a transfusion without checking that your blood types were compatible?” Reeve interrupted.

“She was on the brink of death, beyond the help of conventional first aid, healing magic, or phoenix down. I could either do something risky that had a small chance of saving her, or do nothing at all and let her die.” 

Reeve thought it over, then slowly nodded in understanding.

XXX XXX XXX

Crimson liquid glistened in the dying embers as it poured through the clear tube out of Sephiroth’s arm and into Tifa’s. It was strange: despite all the differences, his blood looked almost perplexingly mundane.

As his blood replaced what Tifa had lost, color began to return to her face and her breathing became deeper and more regular.

He’d done it.

He’d actually saved someone’s life.

Sephiroth still had no idea what he was, but his blood was human enough to save this young girl, maybe he wasn’t such a monster after all...

“Zack, get Miss Lockhart to safety and double check the town for any other survivors; I’m going to go to the reactor and put an end to this,” Sephiroth vowed.

He didn’t bother to wrap his arm in gauze, the moment the needle was withdrawn his flesh began to scab over, and even that scab would be gone soon enough.

“How do you know whoever, or possibly even whatever, is responsible for this is at the reactor? It could be Avalanche, it could be Wutai, it could even be the mother of that dragon you killed on our way here out for revenge!” Zack protested.

“Remember what I told you when we arrived? My mother’s name is Jenova, and we saw the name “Jenova” all over that Reactor… call it an educated guess.”

XXX XXX XXX

Sure enough, the doors to the mako reactor had been thrown wide open by the time he arrived, even the one to its core labeled “Jenova”.

Inside the core Sephiroth discovered something that resembled a gigantic replica of a woman’s torso with numerous pipes pumping chemicals into its shoulders, creating a grotesque mockery of angelic wings.

Standing before it in rapturous supplication was a man with blond hair in a Shinra trooper’s uniform.

“Just like you told me, I sacrificed them all for you...” He crooned to the statue.

“Strife? How could you do this? This was your hometown! You murdered your own mother!”

Cloud Strife spun around and Sephiroth was momentarily shocked by not just the presence but the intensity of the mako glow in his eyes; the gleaming orbs illuminated the sunken cheeks of a man who'd likely last eaten around the time Sephiroth himself had.

“My mother is right here in front of me! Besides, how did you become ‘great’ Sephiroth? By killing all those people in the Wutain War! It’s not enough to just be strong, you have to get a chance to prove your strength, and now I finally have!” 

“Did those people mean nothing to you?” Sephiroth spat.

Mako eyes or no, Strife was unarmed; it would be child’s play for Sephiroth to deal with him. Before he could though… he needed to know why. He needed to understand why someone could have everything Sephiroth had always wanted, and just throw it away like that?

“How could you murder your entire village for a statue?”

“A statue? My deaf brother thinks you’re a statue!” Cloud cackled before vaulting away from Sephiroth with surprising speed.

He landed before the statue, grabbed it by its torso, and ripped it in half.

Disturbingly organic fluids began to drain from the statue and the room was suddenly graced by additional lighting, revealing another specimen containment tank, this one completely translucent. Inside, submerged in rapidly draining fluid was a blue-skinned figure in a vaguely humanoid shape with horrific crimson tumors growing from its body.

Sephiroth didn’t need his impossibly keen eyesight to be painfully, dreadfully, certain of what was written upon the helmet attached to the figure’s head.

Jenova.

“Bathe in our mother’s beauty! She will lead us to the Promised Land, she will make all our suffering a thing of distant memories!”

Sephiroth had heard enough.

“I don’t understand you, and now I realize I don’t want to.”

Masamune’s wrapping fell away and in response, Cloud armed himself with a jagged piece of metal ripped from the statue.

Cloud Strife was faster and stronger than any Shinra trooper should have ever possibly been…. But he was new to his strength, fighting a man who’d been raised with it, molded by it.

Inhuman strength and bubbling rage had carried Cloud on a bloody path through Nibelheim, but was no match for equal strength backed by a decade of experience with a blade and immaculate precision in its use.  Each feint opened his guard a little further, each exchange of blows robbed him of more and more momentum, until an open-handed strike launched him across the room to slam into Jenova’s tank with enough force to spiderweb the reinforced glass.

Masamune sank into his chest, sending a trickle of bluish fluid down the side of the tank.  Sephiroth stepped back onto the walkway and swung the skewered trooper out over the yawning chasm.

“Consider yourself dismissed,” he raised the blade up at an angle, then swung it sharply downwards, only noticing mid-motion that Strife’s fingers had wrapped around the blade hard enough to draw blood.

Teeth clenched in a rictus of pain and fury, Cloud raised his free hand towards Sephiroth and the walkway overhead.  Flames began to gather between his outstretched fingers, then roared out to engulf Sephiroth.

“ Really? ” An unharmed Sephiroth glared down through the inferno, incredulous.

Strife had seen him weather the dragon’s fiery breath without injury; why had he expected his magic to fare better?

“Maybe I can’t beat you, but can you beat gravity?” Cloud gritted out.

Crack.

Sephiroth might have superhuman resistance to flames, but the catwalk he was standing on didn’t. Metal twisted and deformed beneath the mystical heat, growing too weak to bear their weight..

SNAP

Both of them plunged into the endless green below.

XXX XXX XXX

“But how was this even a fight? You’re Sephiroth , and he was just some random trooper.” Kadaj couldn’t help but ask.

“Remember how I mentioned his canteen broke when we fell off the bridge? He drank from a nearby spring. The water in it was probably tainted with runoff from the reactor. It contained the same slurry of mako and Jenova cells that were responsible for turning Nibelheim’s local wildlife into vicious monsters.

I can’t prove it, but during that week I spent obsessed with the scientific papers in the Shinra Mansion, Strife was probably hiking those mountains and drinking from that same spot, over, and over again. Since he kept his helmet on the entire time, none of us would have realized that his eyes were developing a mako glow.

Keep in mind, the standard Shinra formula for creating SOLDIER is an external mako wash, and the internal exposure being carefully calibrated down to the milliliter. What he was doing was insane; it should have killed him or, at best, given him mako poisoning… but Jenova seemed to have other ideas.”

“What about you Tifa? You said you couldn’t clearly remember anything after you got attacked, but what was Nibelheim like when you woke up?” Kadaj turned his attention to the story’s other protagonist.

“I have no idea. Even with the blood transfusion I just barely survived. The next thing I knew….”

XXX XXX XXX

“Papa… Papa….”

“Tifa...” The soothing voice was mature, masculine, familiar.

For a brief moment, all the blazing reds were nothing but a bad dream; it hadn’t been real, none of it. It made her want to laugh, thinking what a silly girl she had been for believing it, that the one and only General Sephiroth would pay a visit to her town; that for some reason he would have brought some boy she barely knew along with him as well, that Cloud Strife would have murdered her father and burnt Nibelheim to the ground….

It was all just a bad dream, just a nightmare. Now all she needed to do was open up her eyes and shake off the weight of ‘memories’ that had never been.

Then she felt her “bed” buck and jump about.

Her eyes flew open and she discovered that she was very much not in her bed. She wasn’t even in her house.

She was laying in the back of a dilapidated truck traveling along a rocky road. The voice had belonged  to Master Zangan, not her father.

Looking around, she saw vast stretches of nothingness and orange-red mountains that were completely unfamiliar.

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t a dream...” Tifa could barely force herself to say the words.

“No.” Zangan’s hair had already been gray when they’d first met, but somehow he seemed to have aged a decade overnight.

Except… had it been just a single night?

“How… how long?”

“A week.”

“Figures, doesn’t it? First Mt. Nibel and now this; seven really is my lucky number.” Tifa sighed despondently.

Even if this was the second time she’d woken up from a coma after being dead to the world for seven days, it was hard to feel fortunate at the moment.

Still, the more she thought about it, the more the idea of her having been unconscious for seven days felt ‘wrong’, bordering on impossible. Comparing how she felt at the moment to how she’d felt the first time she’d woken up from a coma, why didn’t her throat feel sore, why didn’t her muscles feel stiff?

If anything, she felt… good … like a coiled spring; as if the energy of the entire week she’d been unconscious had built up inside her and now was just waiting for a chance to be let out.

“Where are we?” It would drive Tifa crazy if she tried to take this all in at once; best to try and focus on one thing at a time.

“We’re on the road to Midgar; there are a few people in the city who owe me favors, enough to get you into a hospital. To be honest, when we left Nibelheim I didn’t expect you to wake up without significant medical attention.”

A thought struck her and Tifa took a good long look at her bare midsection. She was shocked to discover that her stomach looked more or less exactly as she remembered it.

“I was stabbed here, over and over again... shouldn’t I have a scar?”

XXX XXX XXX

“ That wasn't even the weirdest part of course, what really took the cake was when I realized I’d even lost the scars I picked up from falling off the bridge as a kid.”  Tifa admitted.

XXX XXX XXX

“Do you know how you survived?”  Zangan asked the question in a tone suggesting he already knew the answer.

Which made one of them at least, because Tifa didn’t have so much as a clue.

Tifa shook her head, it was the only honest answer she could give at the moment.

“You were brought to me by the black-haired SOLDIER who came to your town. He insisted that you’d be safer being far away from him… and that you were only alive because General Sephiroth gave you a blood transfusion.”

Tifa once again began to inspect her arms for any sign of the transfusion, but if she couldn’t find proof of being repeatedly stabbed in the chest, what chance did being simply pierced by a needle have?

“Do you believe him?”

For an answer, Zangan produced a small mirror.

A lack of familiar scars wasn’t the only thing about Tifa’s appearance that had changed. Her deep brown eyes were shot through with luminous flecks, bright and dense enough to make them appear more red than their familiar burgundy shade.

“Well, at least my pupils are still the same.” Tifa reflected awkwardly; it would have been even more unsettling to see her reflection with Sephiroth’s cat-like eyes.

This discovery raised a lot of questions, questions she was going to deal with later.

“You asked why I survived, were there...”

Before she could even finish asking the question Zangan began to shake his head mournfully.

Sure enough, exactly as she’d feared, “lucky” Tifa Lockhart.

Then another thought struck her and her hands clenched into fists.

“If nobody else survived, you really mean nobody , right? There was a Shinra trooper, blond hair, glowing blue eyes, Are you sure he’s dead?”

Zangan sighed heavily and shook his head again.

“I was outside of the town, training against some of the weaker local monsters when Nibelheim was destroyed. By the time I returned, Zack was the only one left. He told me that Sephiroth had followed the one responsible to the mako reactor. 

“When he went there, all he found was a catwalk that had been torn to shreds. He surmised that Sephiroth and whoever he’d been fighting both ended up plunging into the mako, and I could find no reason to doubt him.”

Tifa felt a cold emptiness in her stomach, it was worse than anything she’d felt after her mother’s death. This time everyone was dead, even Cloud.

No, not everyone was dead…

“You said that you could get me into Midgar while I was unconscious and in need of medical care. Do you think that you could do it while I’m awake and healthy?”

“Why would you want to go to Midgar?”

“Because Cloud Strife might have been the bomb that destroyed Nibelheim, but Shinra lit his fuse. Why else could he have left town a normal enough boy and come back a monster? Shinra happened to him… and now, I’m gonna happen to Shinra.”

XXX XXX XXX

“So once I got into Midgar, the next thing I needed to do was make some money; luckily I was able to get in touch with the right wrong people...”

XXX XXX XXX

“And the winner of tonight’s Don Corneo Cup...”

“The chick with the kicks!”

“The girl with the guns...”

“And she’s packing something bigger than your average thirty-eights...”

“Tifa Lockhart!”

XXX XXX XXX

“Which was how I bought my bar. I would have eventually started my own Avalanche cell, but I ran into Barret first. He had the revolutionaries, I had the base for them to operate out of, it was a match made in Seventh Heaven.”

“An enlightening story well told.” Stargazer opined from the floor.

“It sounds like, if what Sephiroth told us is true, it was Jenova… whatever... It? She? They?” Reeve trailed off, scrabbling for pronouns.

“’She’ is fine. I spent so much of my life thinking that Jenova was my mother’s name that I feel most comfortable discussing her in female terms.” Sephiroth clarified.

“It sounds like she was responsible for Cloud Strife burning down your hometown, not Shinra.” The Director of Urban Development finished.

Tifa thought about that for a moment, idly cracking her knuckles.

“Seems to me… Shinra felt it was perfectly fine to store some kind of horrible monster in our mako reactor, and never bother to tell anybody about it. I guess it must have been awfully convenient for them to keep their gigantic brain warping abomination out “in the middle of nowhere” where it couldn’t possibly ‘hurt anybody’ if something went wrong…. well not anybody important .” Suffice to say, Tifa Lockhart had room in her heart for three mortal enemies: Jenova, Cloud Strife, and Shinra.

“So this monster, Jenova. She’s the thing you think could be an even bigger threat to the planet than Shinra? She’s the ‘second front’ we’ll have to deal with? How much do we even know about her?” Barret grumbled.

Sephiroth sighed heavily and turned his eyes up towards the ceiling.

“Not half as much as I wish I knew. Jenova isn’t human. Jenova is a unique entity because I’ve been all over the Planet fighting for Shinra, and only in Nibelheim did I feel her brush up against my mind. I suspect that Jenova is probably as old as the Cetra themselves, hence why she might have once been mistaken for one.

“I can’t say with certainty that Jenova is extraterrestrial in origin, but given that the Cetra were and there’s only one of her, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was. The other main thing that I suspect is….”

“Jenova is what destroyed the Cetra.” 

Heads turned towards Aerith in confusion, Sephiroth's among them.

“I could be completely wrong, but just to be clear; am I the only one in this room who has actually read a fantasy series?  Two great and powerful beings descend to our planet from above, one good, one evil.  I don’t have any proof, but it’s almost uncanny how well the pieces fit.”

“Still, that could explain why this Cloud punk left us that message about the Promised Land. If that’s where the Cetra went into hiding, and Jenova wants to wipe them out, it's no wonder why she’s so interested in going there.” Barret pondered.

“I wish I had more answers for all of you. Right now, all I know for certain is that the only way to get those answers is to play Strife and Jenova’s game. That’s why we must go to Junon.”

XXX XXX XXX

Simon Hojo had finally finished examining samples he’d gathered from President Shinra’s office. Rufus wanted him to create genetic profiles on all of the Avalanche members who had dared to invade his father’s office based on hair follicles, skin samples and other minor bits of genetic detritus they’d left behind.

The task had been made easier by how he’d been able to quickly eliminate four of the genetic donors who he had already personally cataloged, and Reeve’s DNA hadn’t been difficult to track down either. That just left two of them; the unknown male was relatively unremarkable, Jenova cell count almost soporifically average for a Third Class SOLDIER. The female, however...

“I suspected that girl wasn’t one of my SOLDIERs, but this...” His breathing became unseemly fast.

She wasn’t just equivalent to a S-type SOLDIER; her blood had one of the most extraordinarily high concentrations of Jenova cells he’d ever seen! For that to be possible, she must have gotten a blood transfusion from Sephiroth! She’d not only survived but had been improved by a blood transfusion from Sephiroth...

Hojo had made several dozen attempts at doing exactly that, and those who hadn’t perished from an especially aggravated case of graft versus host disease had been turned into broken shambling wrecks who moaned insistently about “reunion” this and “aghhhh” that.

“O brave new world, that has such people in it!”  Shinra’s top scientist exclaimed with delight.

“Not only that, but she was in the company of my Second Silver prototype! With this degree of Jenova cell saturation in her bloodstream...” Hojo stopped reviewing the blood tests and ran to a nearby whiteboard and grabbed up a marker.

He began to scribble upon the board in large unsteady letters.

What an absolutely fascinating outcome this might produce!

End Chapter.

AN: First off, I am going to “cheat” on one thing right now. In the Original Game of FF7, there’s a safe in the Shinra Mansion during the flashback. In this continuity that safe does not exist, because there’s no way I can conceive of Sephiroth not being able to force open said safe, and am likewise completely certain that he would have done that long before locating a well-concealed hidden passage.

So in the Twilight Perfected version of events, that safe and its contents are not in the mansion during the Nibelheim Incident, that’s why he doesn’t mention them. It breaks with FF7 continuity… well breaks in ways that this fic normally doesn’t, but I’m still making that call to present a story that is more internally consistent in my opinion.

Next thing, since the red cross doesn’t exist in the world of FF7 and since the “cross” is likely to hold as significant a meaning in a world that shows no clear signs of having religious practices that line up with our own, I’m using the Caduceus in its place on the medkit Sephiroth finds. Some of you may feel this is just replacing a symbol of a Christian religion there are no signs of in FF7 with the symbol of a Greek/Roman religion there are no signs of in FF7… but I did already decide that discussion on Eros/Cupid and Apollo back in chapter 11 so from there to Caduceus being a medical symbol is a pretty short hop. With that out of the way, I’m going to move onto meatier topics to discuss...

Let me be clear about something right here, right now, I am not trying to insult or belittle the character of Cloud Strife. I portray him as a villain because there are seven truly awesome swordsmen in-universe of FF7: Sephiroth, Cloud Strife, Zack Fair, Kadaj, Genesis Rhapsodos, Angeal Hewley, and Elfe.  Much like every Yog-Sothoth needs a Wilbur Whateley, Jenova needs a human avatar to work through from one of the above seven.

Sephiroth and Kadaj are currently heroes in this story, Zack is canonically pretty much the nicest guy in the setting, and growing up I read Irony of Fate by JenesisX, a 60+ chapter Aeriseph story/retelling of FF7 where Zack was the bad guy.  It is a really good story to say the least, but as far as I can remember it still didn’t really provide all that much of an explanation for Zack being evil other than the Doylist reason of needing a villain for the heroes to fight with. 

So basically,“Evil Zack” has already been done better than I could ever do it, and even then it was a weakness in an otherwise strong piece of work.  If an author better than me can’t make a particular premise work, it’d be foolish to think I could.

If I use either Angeal or Genesis, then suddenly Crisis Core becomes required reading, well playing, for the story’s plot to make sense. Right now, I’m trying to use the expanded compilation stuff for a pinch of flavoring rather than as a main ingredient. The fact that I’m using a version of Kadaj as a main character says I’m failing, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment; though I think this story could in theory still make sense to someone who hasn’t seen Advent Children with “Kadaj'' just being a weird choice for a name and the fact that Kadaj’s sword has two parallel blades being a very weird design choice.  Elfe is the same problem except Before Crisis is even less widely known than Crisis Core and it is even more improbable for her to be serving Jenova for reasons that make sense if you’ve read the plot to Before Crisis.

So, to sum things up, Cloud draws the short straw and Jenova’s attention in this story by default as from an out-of-universe perspective, in my eyes, he’s easily the best candidate to replace Sephiroth as Jenova’s main human servant.  I say that because unlike Zack, Cloud does have some genuine flaws that I can use to highlight aspects of his true character even while being “Jenova’s Son”, much like even as a hero we still see Kadaj’s mercurial nature on display.

Cloud’s greatest vice is envy, and his feelings of being a social outcast are very fertile soil for Jenova’s seeds to grow in.

Although I find Aerith a better counterpoint/foil for Sephiroth, there are some things that Sephiroth and Cloud have in common. A big one would be that before the Nibelheim Incident they both suffer from “Inferiority Superiority Complex”, (Sephiroth’s went away after he decided he was the Planet’s chosen one, but Cloud more or less continues to suffer from one until the around the midpoint of Disc 2) they just express them in different ways. Cloud desperately wants to be strong, but even when he genuinely becomes superhuman he insists on portraying himself to Avalanche as a stoic, cold “I’m not in this for your revolution” anti-hero to try and look even more badass, even though Zack Fair who was Cloud’s best male role model was basically a golden retriever in human form.

Sephiroth for his part, well it should be fairly obvious that before going to Nibelheim canon Sephiroth puts on a general air of stoic invincibility while in reality, he’s deeply worried about if he even qualifies as a human being or not.

In short, Cloud is insecure about his physical attributes; how strong he is or isn’t, Sephiroth is insecure about his mental attributes, the fact that he’s neurodivergent and what it might imply.

So now you might be wondering, why did I go the direction I went with Cloud? It wasn’t just because “Incel”/”Red Pills” are timely, I personally find it as the most accurate reading of what type of villain Cloud Strife would become if he gave into/was chosen by Jenova.

As a young boy, he has a crush on Tifa but it never goes anywhere because he’s never really allowed into her social circle, the social circle of the most popular girl in Nibelheim… 

Because his father died early on and he was only raised by his mother, Cloud could be argued to have no idea what a healthy masculine role model would be, well at least until he is taken under Zack’s wing.

That, I think, is the best, most interesting way to look at Cloud and Sephiroth as foils.  All Sephiroth has to do to know what an ideal father figure would look like is to take one glance at Hojo and say “the exact opposite of that.”  At the same time though, Sephiroth has no more idea of what a healthy maternal role model looks like than Cloud does a healthy paternal one.

If I was going to give a deep philosophical reading of the two based on the these two, which is a dangerous/not necessarily accurate thing given that I’m nowhere near a trained psychologist,I’d say that Cloud has no idea how to properly express strength, while Sephiroth has no idea how to properly express love.

Moving on to more amusing subjects, you guys should be glad that I’m playing somewhat fast and loose with how much of Crisis Core is canon to this story because otherwise, I’d have had to include something like this…

[Start Omake]

“So there I was in the Nibelheim reactor, and I saw what Hojo had been making there.... they might have once been animals, they might have once been people... but they'd been exposed to so much mako at this point that I couldn't tell anymore, all I knew was that now they were monsters…. and I couldn't help but ask myself... was I the same? ”

Sephiroth took a deep breath and his expression suddenly shifted from one of deep sorrow to barely contained rage.

“Then this TREMENDOUS jackass named Genesis Rhapsodos showed up out of nowhere and told me that indeed I was a monster, but he needed my blood to keep himself from falling apart at the cellular level. He also offered me an apple because at that point his mind was so decayed that he was only capable of communicating through overly dramatic allusions to famous literary works.”

“Wow, a lot more happened inside that reactor than I realized,” Tifa admitted.

“Just be grateful that you at least missed SOME part of that disaster,” Sephiroth noted with a scowl.

[End Omake]

You guys should also be grateful that unlike in the original game Tifa and Sephiroth’s recollections of the Nibelheim Incident don’t have any major disagreements, otherwise, this would have turned into the Rashomon Job from Leverage…

[Start Omake]

Tifa sighed as she looked over at the silver-haired general.

“So when we got back to town from our trip to the reactor, he only had one thing on his mind....”

She coughed for a moment and then continued her story in a less than impressive impression of Sephiroth’s baritone.

“I'm gonna go read a bunch of books. Also, sharpen this sword. Maybe walk around the halls. In the dark. Don't interrupt.”

[End Omake]

To cover a few more in universe details, the effect of Phoenix Down in-universe, at least for this story, is best compared to the “magic defibrillator” trope, it will get someone who has been knocked out cold back on their feet and capable of fighting again… but it isn’t going to fix a gaping hole in someone’s stomach, and no item or magic can instantly replace the blood someone has lost. That is why Shinra med-kits would be sure to include instruments for blood transfusion, and why no other approach was likely to save Tifa’s life.

For those playing along at home, based on established FF lore, Tifa's Blood-type is B (we don’t know if she’s negative or positive though) and Sephiroth's is simply "Unknown". The only other relevant fact we know is at one point according to Crisis Core Sephiroth offered to do a blood transfusion for Genesis, but was told they were not compatible.

I don't think any of the existing media ever states what Genesis' blood type is, and in my mind, it is super easy to mark that situation down to "Whatever you do, don't cross the streams and try to mix S-type SOLDIER blood with G-type SOLDIER blood.”  I’m assuming that because I'm damn sure that otherwise Hojo would have tried to do EXACTLY that at some point, and the results probably resulted in more misshapen wretches rather than next-generation super-duper SOLDIERs.

I’m aware that Genesis believed that mixing his G-type and Sephiroth’s S-type SOLDIER blood would cure him/make him stronger… but Genesis’s “proof” for that particular conclusion seems to lay somewhere between “flimsy” and “rantings of a madman”.

That said, my Co-Author, Fenrir offers the counter-proposal that indeed Sephiroth would have actually made a perfect blood donor for Genesis, but with Sephiroth as a Type progenitor and Genesis...not, doing so risked overwriting Genesis’ DNA and make him an S-type SOLDIER instead of a G-type, and Shinra was more invested in seeing what happened when one of their two “prime” G-type SOLDIERs went through degradation than caring about Genesis surviving said degradation; thus they told Sephiroth he couldn’t be a blood donor.

Lying to SOLDIERs, the cause of, and solution to, all of Shinra’s problems!

Chapter 18: Picking up the pieces, now where to begin? The hardest part of ending is starting again.

Reeve blinked his eyes open and looked around sleepily, trying to figure out why he’d woken up in a room that was clearly not his own.

 

What was going on in his life? Why did he feel a strange tension in his chest in place of the soul deadening malaise that he’d gotten used to waking up with… who honestly knew how long ago?

 

Luckily, his mind soon began to fill in everything that had happened over the last few days: saving over sixty thousand lives, getting kidnapped by Avalanche, hearing how in addition to the existential threat to all life on the planet that he’d already known about, Shinra had also been experimenting with some sort of mind warping alien life form….

 

So, what did he plan to do about it? Well, what could he possibly do about it? Really, wasn’t that the story of Reeve’s life: sitting around feeling utterly powerless to actually change anything while everything fell apart around him? If he couldn’t do anything while he was incredibly rich and in charge of a major Shinra Department, what chance did he have as a hostage?

 

Speaking of being a hostage, Reeve looked over at his “jailor”.

 

Given a zip tie, and instructions to make sure that Reeve didn’t leave Avalanche’s suite without him, Kadaj had decided to zip tie his own right arm to the door knob and fell asleep.

It was an interesting approach to hostage detention.


So… that was what it was like to be one of Sephiroth’s young SOLDIERS.  To feel that your own arms were a lever that could move the Planet.  It wasn’t that surprising, in retrospect; children enhanced with Mako and Jenova cells, but armed with little more than pointy bits of metal had established Shinra’s uncontested hegemony over the Planet… and then stood passively in line for the old men for whom they’d won wealth beyond measure to give them medals.

When he thought about it like that, it was almost astounding that being betrayed by its own SOLDIERS required grand personal tragedies like those of Genesis and Sephiroth; simple economics alone should have been enough.  Why had the most powerful people on the Planet allowed themselves to be yoked like beasts of burden?

The longer Reeve thought about it, the more obvious the answer became.

Because Shinra had created a culture where those SOLDIERs were taught only to use their strength for the purpose of furthering Shinra’s aims. Taught not to wonder what they might be capable of doing in any other context. Taught to keep their heads down, do their jobs, and just accept the world as it was. Taught to accept a paycheck from people whose bones they could break like chalk.  Taught to believe that whatever Shinra had given them, surely they could take it away just as easily…


Taught that while they were SOLDIERs, even raw superhuman strength was meaningless next to the power of economics and finance.  Taught that it didn’t matter how powerful you were, you couldn’t use that power to make a difference.


Yet… roughly 60,000 people were still alive in Sector Seven because of what Reeve had done.  For one single infinitesimally short instance in time… Reeve Tuesti had accomplished something that even General Sephiroth couldn’t.  He’d thrown himself astride the tracks of Shinra’s path to complete uncontested global domination… and in the process of crushing his old life into paste, he had forced it to slow down.


Maybe that was why Sephiroth and his young revolutionaries could prevail over an army of trained men and an arsenal of military machines, why Shinra had seemed to be stuck going in circles for the last five years: if General Sephiroth was invincible, whatever cause he supported must surely be likewise invincible.


Reeve had spent much of his adult life drinking in moderation to help deal with the stress of his life… but now, for the first time… for the first time he finally understood what his drinking companion meant when he talked about ‘ The Thirst ’.

For the first time in his life, Reeve hadn’t felt powerless… and looking back on it, that single moment of shining euphoria… had left him with a thirst for more. Reeve had insisted that Shinra had made him just a dealer, but no- the sensation of not just opposing Shinra, but succeeding at opposing Shinra... it had done what no amount of liquor ever could: made him an addict.

Lead, follow, or get out of the way?


Well the time had come for Reeve to follow the footsteps of countless addicts before him, by destroying his life for the sake of another hit….

 

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth was rather surprised when shortly after breakfast, Avalanche’s hostage decided to unprompted strike up a conversation..

“I’d like to speak with you about finances, if that’s acceptable…?”  The erstwhile executive’s words were deferential, but his voice was tight and the look in his eyes was one Sephiroth most associated with men who’d resolved to charge a machine gun.

His only response was an arched brow.  “Speak, then.”

“Your bank account is completely shut down at the moment. As for my account, they either have a small army ready to go at the first hard data related to someone using it, or they simply froze the accounts of EVERYONE in Urban Development since they lack the correct security passwords to target mine in particular. However, I’ve still got enough access to Shinra’s payroll system that a certain amount of chicanery might be possible.”

 

In a simple man, he might have taken this for the zeal of a fresh convert, but while Reeve registered as 'not a threat' to every metric Sephiroth bothered with, that did not make him by any means 'simple.'

 

“It was one thing to allow us to make clandestine contact with our loved ones, but now you’re going to bankroll Avalanche? What’s your angle?”

 

Reeve shrugged.

 

“Don’t mistake this for more than it is; in another situation, if I was talking to a different member of Avalanche, I’m sure I’d feel more hesitant about the possibility of funding my very own terrorist cell. But... you’re Sephiroth.

 

“What exactly should I be afraid of that you might do with the money?

 

“Sephiroth is going to buy explosives… except he can create fireballs that destroy tanks!

 

“Sephiroth is going to buy guns… let's just forget how he can mow down his foes with bolts of lighting!

 

“Sephiroth is going to buy materia… oh wait, I bet he’s figured out a way to use magic without them!”  Reeve grew increasingly animated as he recounted hypotheticals, culminating in a slightly crazed expression that suggested that he knew he was pushing the bounds of plausibility, but that that was a sacrifice he was willing to make to get his point across.

 

“I have.”

 

“...Because of course you have. Circling back to my initial point, you’re Sephiroth. You’re a force multiplier the likes of which Avalanche’s past iteration could only have dreamed of. If I were to somehow empty out my entire account, what could you do with my money that would actually make you more of a threat to Shinra? Buy Number 26 from Rocket Town, and launch it at Midgar as the world’s largest ICBM? Buy the Mako Cannon and airlift it somewhere where it can shoot at something actually important?

 

“In full disclosure, I also rather desperately don’t want to spend another night being half crushed between you and Mr. Wallace. Thus, I make this offer with the expectation that if I can finagle a few thousand gil into your coffers, tents will be among the items you end up purchasing. I’d also dearly love for you to buy your compatriots laptops, or at least tablets, so I can work with buttons that are larger than my fingers again.”

 

Sephiroth pondered the offer for a few moments; not needing to spend time hunting for food or inevitably getting rained on while trying to sleep did have a certain appeal…

 

“Assuming I agree to this plan, how exactly are we going to get the money?”

 

“Despite all the protections Shinra set up around our accounts, I’d be willing to bet that even if they closed and locked every door, there are still a few windows ajar. I can create a new account in one of the departments I had technological oversight of, siphon money into it from a legitimate source, reset my charge card to be drawn from that account, and just like that Shinra will be none the wiser.”

 

“You still have your charge card on you?” Sephiroth’s own was currently floating somewhere in the Lifestream.

 

“It was in my wallet, which was in my pants when I was told to go to President Shinra’s office.” Reeve admitted with a shrug.

 

“Of course to do this, I’d need to know the PIN of someone else who works for Shinra, and the more highly placed they are the easier it will be. The problem is that the system will start setting off alarms after three failed login attempts... I don’t suppose any of your fellow Firsts ever disclosed theirs?”

 

“Shinra corporate policy is still that a PIN needs to be six to eight digits?”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Head of Science and Research, Simon Hojo, PIN is going to be either 10071980 or 07101980.”

 

A short conversation to borrow Tifa’s PHS later, Reeve started typing. Eventually the machine emitted a cheerful chime.

 

“It was the first one; dare I ask how you knew?”

 

“It was the day of his greatest scientific achievement; he’s too egotistical to use anything else.”

 

It was Sephiroth’s birthday.

 

“You know, when I first suggested this plan, I felt a certain amount of regret, since it might have ended up implicating an innocent third party but...” Reeve began.

 

“Hojo.” Sephiroth finished with a sardonic shrug.

“Exactly. Congratulations Mr. G. Gavin Gunhold on your employment by the Science and Research Department.  Your payment will be coming out of the brand new STA-TF project…”

“Staff?  ”

“Show Them All- Those Fools.' If literally anyone but Hojo himself looks at it, it won't seem a bit out of place. That ought to buy us at least till the end of the quarter.  Now let's just get Mr. Gunhold’s first paycheck deposited, his first of many surprisingly generous paychecks….”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Do you know what the best thing about a Class J containment breach is?” Reno pondered aloud as he walked the halls of Shinra HQ’s 67th floor.

 

“Not having to fight Sephiroth twice in 24 hours?” Rude answered.

 

“Nope!  Well, yes, but you’re thinking too small. For me, this… this, right here, is perfection. You see, proper procedure for a Class J containment breach calls for the entire floor to be scrubbed clean on an almost microscopic level. Forget just eating off of it, this is a floor that you could do surgery on!”

 

“If you’re about to do what I think you are, they might need to.” Sure enough, even as the taciturn Turk watched, Reno was starting to wiggle his feet free from his shoes.

 

“Thus begins your glorious 108th attempt...”

 

“That’s right, Rude old buddy, I’m going to slide on this slippery floor all the way from Hojo’s Office to the elevator.”

 

“The FFS isn’t humanly possible.”

 

“Maybe not for a normal human, but I’m Reno the Turk; and I’m going to go down in history as the first person to achieve the Full Floor Slide!”

 

“Let me rephrase; the FFS isn’t physically possible. You look down this hallway, you don’t see the elevator, you see a wall. To pull this off you’ll need to perform a ninety degree turn. If you attempted this 108 more times today you might eventually break through the wall, but you’ll never make that turn.”

 

“Ye of little faith.” Scoffed Reno.

 

“You’re going to do this without the helmet?”

 

“And deny the people of this department the chance to see my glorious red locks flaring out behind me like a victory banner as I go sliding down the halls? Rude, they work for Hojo, haven’t they already suffered enough?”

 

“Break a leg, and hopefully not something more important.”

 

Reno carefully took a few steps back, getting a proper feel traversing the floor in his socks.

 

Then, he pumped his arms and started racing down the hallway, taking roughly two dozen paces before throwing his right arm out to the side to help balance as he shifted to a surfer like pose, the other raised in a dramatic “thumbs up” to anyone who was watching.

 

He sailed down the hallway, his feet sliding frictionlessly across the floor. This attempt was off to a good start, despite Rude mocking him about the wall, nine times out of ten he didn’t even reach it.

 

The impossible turn loomed ever closer, but this time Reno didn’t wait for it to arrive.  His partner had been right about the difficulties of pulling off a 90 degree turn during a slide, which was why Reno didn’t plan to.

Instead, he shifted his weight and slid toward the wall to his right, and as it drew near shoved off against it.  That sent him careening toward the far wall, with the turn roughly ten feet ahead of him.  Another carefully angled shove off that wall left him approaching what had once been a 90 degree turn at something now approaching 45 degrees.

Once more well-placed shove shifted him back to the center of the hallway.

 

This, this was what made life worthwhile; it was a victory Sephiroth would never be able to take away from him.

 

For the first time he’d actually managed to make it through the turn, nothing was gonna stop him now, especially since bribed and or threatened all the office drones to stay out of the hallway to make sure he didn’t have to dodge lab-coated obstacles.

 

Reno was going to make it, he was less than twenty feet from the elevator now….

 

The elevator whose doors were starting to open… revealing a raven haired man in a blue suit.

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

Tseng didn’t even flinch when Reno slid into the elevator and bumped into him.

 

“Reno.”

 

“Boss.”

 

“Full Floor Slide?”

“Full Floor Slide.”


“Congratulations on finally pulling it off.”  Tseng’s praise was aloof, yet sincere.

It was only after taking a moment to drink in that rare compliment, when Tseng’s second in command noticed the elevator’s other occupant.

 

“New girl who I have not yet been formally introduced to...”

 

“Reno, this is Elena.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Elena.”

 

The brown eyed blond just stared at Reno’s stocking clad feet in silence.

 

“She’s the newest member of the Shinra Electric Power Company’s General Affairs Auditing Department.”

 

“Ah, in that case how did your parents bite it? Rock climbing accident, car accident, stray bullet, accurate bullet, mako poisoning or just the ever popular mysterious circumstances?”

 

“My father’s a dentist, and my mother is an accountant.”

 

“Oh. Good for you I guess. If you give me his number I can promise him some extra business the next time I lose a tooth.”

 

“I appreciate the offer, but if you’ve already had your wisdom teeth removed, the odds of a fully mature adult losing any more teeth are pretty low.”

 

“First, I take offense at being called ‘fully mature’. Secondly, would you like to bet on how likely I am to lose a tooth in the next month or so?”

 

“Perhaps we should continue this conversation outside the elevator?” Tseng interjected.

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

Life was, all things considered, pretty boring for Stanley- and that was exactly how he liked it. He came into work every day, did a few little things to make life better for various people, collected his own little paycheck and went home.

 

He did what he could to make sure that every person who asked for his opinion ended up leaving the store with the right pet for them, or do what he could to help people find out how best to care for the pets they already had.

 

He was a little surprised by the sight of his newest prospective customer. He took one long look at the brown haired woman in the pink dress and felt his brow furrow.

 

Having spent years working at Kalm’s biggest pet store he had a finely tuned instinct for what type of animal a person was likely to gravitate towards, and this woman said “cat person” to him, despite the fact that she was accompanied by a dog.

 

Then he took a moment and realized what he was actually seeing.

 

The woman had walked into the store with a dog. Actually describing it as “a dog” was rather underselling it. Other people had come into his store with dogs before, but they were typically small breeds, the kind that you could fit in your handbag and could only come anywhere close to being dangerous because of how ill-tempered they were.

 

This dog looked like it could rip his guts open with a single swipe of its claws or crush his throat between its teeth with ease. Not to mention, its tail was on fire… Stanley’s eyes gazed upwards towards the smoke detector, waiting for it to go off. The device remained stubbornly silent and Stanley was left with no choice but to turn his eyes back towards his new arrival and her big red dog.

 

“I’m sorry miss, but I really can’t let you bring that animal in here….” Stanley braced himself for a tirade about how this woman insisted on ‘speaking to his manager’ at any moment.

 

“You can call me Jane, and yeah, my dad went a little overboard.” The girl sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

 

The last thing Stanley had been expecting was for the customer to agree with him, and suddenly found himself completely wrong footed.

 

“I have these fainting spells… so my dad insisted I get a service dog. Then because he’s a bigwig at Shinra, he insisted that Science and Research had to give me something special...”

 

Special was undoubtedly a good way to describe the dog in question. Stanley couldn’t remember ever seeing a dog with... tattoos, for lack of a better word.

 

“What breed is he?”

 

The woman went down on her knees and gently began to rub her service animal’s head.

 

“Dad said something about it doesn’t really count as a breed if there’s only one like him in the world. His name is Stargazer, if that helps. Want to see something cool?”

Stanley found himself nodding before he'd really processed the question.

 

The woman faux swooned and collapsed against the side of her service animal, her body laying limp against its steadily rising and lowering flanks.

 

In an instant Stargazer went from examining various parts of the store at random to locking his one remaining eye on Stanley’s with a gaze so penetrating it almost made him want to flinch away from it.

 

“My owner has fallen unconscious please call 911. I repeat, my owner has fallen unconscious please call 911. I repeat, my owner...”

 

Stargazer only stopped when Jane opened up her eyes and began to softly rub his throat.

 

“Good boy Stargazer, good boy.” She reassured him.

 

Stanley was incredibly impressed, at least until a thought struck him.

 

“So your father was able to force Shinra’s scientists to make a dog that talks for you… but they never thought to provide a harness?”

 

“Stargazer was made by the Science and Research Division, but his harness was supposed to be provided by the consumer goods division and those two aren’t getting along right now.  Dad said he could explain why… but then he’d have to have the Turks’ kidnap me to make sure I didn’t tell anyone else; he was kidding, I think.”

Stanley abruptly remembered the rules he’d promised himself to follow whenever dealing with people affiliated with Shinra: shut up, smile, take the money, and the fewer questions he asked, the happier he’d be when all was said and done.

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Will I truly have to wear this whenever we go among your people?” huffed Stargazer as he pawed at his new harness.

 

“I think it makes you look quite distinguished.” Aerith reassured him.

 

“I’d rather earn my renown through deeds than accessories.”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Sir, I have to ask, why aren’t you punishing Reno for that reckless behavior?” Elena protested once she was alone with Tseng.

 

“Do you know why the best chocobos never get whipped?”

 

Elena felt an icy spike of fear in her stomach, she thought she’d prepared for everything, but brushing up on how best to treat racing animals hadn’t seemed especially necessary at the time.

 

“Because they’re too expensive to risk injuring?” she timidly answered after a painfully protracted silence.

 

“Because the best chocobos never need to be told when to start running, only when to stop. Reno is the same way. I may need to keep a tight grip on the reins, but he was born to run. Do you have any idea how much coordination it takes to be able to slide from Hojo’s office to the elevator?”

 

“No....” Elena’s eyes turned towards the floor in shame.

 

“Now, I could assign Reno five hours of combat drills and watch over his shoulder for each and every single moment of it to make sure that he doesn't start slacking off... or I can let him have fun, and he'll spend ten hours amusing himself in ways that make him more combat capable without even realizing it. That is why I am not going to punish him for what he did.

 

“That does make sense...” She reluctantly agreed.

 

“I’m glad that you understand. I hope I won’t have to have another discussion with you on how best to train my subordinates. The other lesson you need to take away from this is that in the heat of battle, a ‘wrong’ solution embraced quickly and with determination can often yield better results than a ‘right’ one that takes you too long to arrive at and is enacted with hesitancy. 

 

“Do you know why I believe that, Elena?”

 

“Because you’ve seen it first hand?” This time the answer all but sprung from her lips now that she was no longer being quizzed on matters of jockey etiquette.

 

“Because you, Elena, are my ‘wrong’ solution embraced quickly and with determination. I could keep trying to shout myself hoarse until Shinra finally let me bring a genuine Turk into this organization, or I was given the option to hire someone like you… an actual accountant for the General Affairs Auditing Department.”

 

“As opposed to my co-workers, who Shinra deploys for tasks SOLDIERs aren’t subtle enough to handle.”

 

“Correct.”

 

“Thank you for giving me this chance sir, I won’t let you down.”

 

“Yes you will. You already did when you insisted on second guessing my handling of Reno and thus believed you knew my subordinates better than I did. What matters is if you keep trying afterwards.”

Elena promised herself that if Tseng wanted to see her ‘keep trying’ then that was exactly what he’d get!

Without further comment she bent her head down against his desk and began to undo the laces on her shoes.

“Sir, if I might requisition some of your second in command’s time, I have a training exercise that I would like to attempt…” 


Tseng mulled over the matter briefly while Elena undid knots.

“I’m afraid that there are more important tasks that you’ll need to take care of first, like getting acquainted with the last member of our team.” 

Elena’s face fell and she began to retie her shows.

 

“You’ll be needing to borrow a helmet from him, after all.”

 

XXX XXX XXX

Tifa was taking a moment to inspect her reflection when she heard the distinctive sound of Barret's prosthetic against the door.  He started talking the moment the door opened, but seemed to almost stumble over the words.

"Hey... I know we ain't talked about it much, but… I get what it feels like to have Shinra turn your life upside down in the space of a day.  I know it's no fun to relive, so... thanks."  

 

“You needed to know what we’re up against.  I trust Sephiroth to come up with the right plan; I trust you to make sure we're all OK.”

Tifa knew that for all his bluster, Barret had always put the survival of his people ahead of anything else when planning operations.

An awkward silence drifted through the air, both of them ruminating on memories that they would rather forget.

“Your arm looks better.”  She eventually offered, just to fill the silence. 

 

Barret’s prosthetic arm had ended up acquiring a fair amount of wear and tear over his time in Avalanche, with its repairs growing ever more slapdash and obvious over time. Now however, it looked factory fresh.

 

“It needed the tune up.  I’m honestly still a little amazed it managed to make it through that shitshow at the Plate without overheating or jamming.  I see you went shopping” he noted in turn.

 

It was true; now that Tifa was going to be doing more cross country travel and less bartending, she’d exchanged her old outfit for one that wouldn’t leave her as exposed to the elements.

 

She'd exchanged her skirt and shorts for cargo pants, and picked up a black leather jacket for protection from the elements. And pockets. Mostly pockets.

 

Barret’s brow had begun to furrow and his eyes wander slightly; there was clearly something else on his mind.  He responded to her raised eyebrow with a short shake of his head..


“Just… still not sure how I feel about buying this stuff with a Shinra exec’s gil. We’re supposed to be fighting those bastards, not taking handouts from them.”

 

“Well, it isn’t like we’re drawing a salary; he’s stealing it from the company. Would it feel like we were being funded by Shinra if we just kept grabbing loose change out of the pockets of dead SOLDIERs?”

 

“I think if you wear a suit to work, it’s called ‘embezzling.’  What can I say, just cause I’m not in charge anymore doesn’t mean I’m not trying to figure out all the angles. I mean, it’s pretty convenient how when we’re done cleaning out the rest of Shinra’s higher ups, he’s gonna be the last man standing.”

 

“So you think his plan is to obliquely use us to kill off everyone who stands between him and becoming Shinra’s newest CEO?”

 

“I’m just saying, it’s not impossible.”

 

Barret and Tifa held each other's gazes for a solid second… and then both broke into shared uproarious laughter.

 

“He can try, but even if he’s the only one left standing, who's gonna care? Remember the dart boards?”

 

In the hidden basements of Sector Seven there were a series of dart boards with pictures of Shinra executives for the Avalanche members to practice their aim on. The late president, Professor Hojo, General Heidegger, Head of Weapons Development Scarlet, and even Palmer were all present and perforated, but somehow Reeve’s likeness had never gone up against the wall.

 

“What, you think maybe he’s telling the truth about saving Sector Seven?” Barret inquired.

 

Tifa’s neck twitched, the gesture falling somewhere between a vertical shake and a horizontal nod.

 

“It’s awfully convenient for him to be the one higher up at Shinra who can claim to still have something of a soul. Still, making a call like this, all I know for sure is that I don’t know enough; I only really studied Shinra’s corporate ladder to try and figure out how best to rip out its rungs...”

 

“Urban Development… they’re the table scraps that Shinra gives people so that they’ll starve over the course of years rather than weeks. Not sure if that makes them the best Shinra has to offer or the worst. Hopefully it’ll take more than a few kind words and a few thousand gil to make Sephiroth let his guard down.”

 

“Far as I can tell, Sephiroth never lets his guard down. You’re not going to regret letting him be our leader.” Tifa reassured him.  “Besides, I have to admit, a girl could get used to some of this new gear.”

 

“Really? You getting sweet on that Shinra suit? What happened to the girl I knew who got sulky every time she missed out on a combat mission?” Barret taunted her playfully.

 

“I guess… as hard as I try… I can’t bring myself to hate the suits as much as I do their soldiers. I mean, my dad, like I told you, he was Mayor of Nibelheim, he was the one who talked to Midgar when things went wrong, does that mean he was a ‘Shinra Suit’ also?” Tifa’s eyes flicked down towards the floor, her body gripped by a rare moment of indecision.

 

“That’s the god damn worst part about Shinra isn’t it? It’s all over the world, sticking their fingers in every pie… making everyone have to dance to their tune…”

 

“That… doesn’t actually answer the question, does it?”  Tifa gave a short shake of her head and fell silent for a long moment.  “Hey… the others, they’re all still fine, right? They’re gonna be waiting for us when we get back to Midgar...”

 

The moment she brought up the topic of their absent comrades she saw a flicker of pain in Barret’s eyes and she offered him the most reassuring smile she could manage.

“You’re not still kicking yourself over telling them to hold down the fort, are you?”

“Nah.  I mean… not much.  Leavin’ ‘em at Seventh Heaven was the right call.  But part of being in charge is that even when you make the right call, you still blame yourself for every little thing that goes wrong.  Why do you think I was so eager to let Sephiroth take over?”

“An Avalanche’s strength isn’t in the first rock in the slide, it isn’t in the biggest rock, it is in all the rocks moving together.  Sephiroth is good at smashing aside anything that gets in our way, but you’re good at getting other rocks rolling; you’re the reason that the five of us are still alive.”  

 

“Well, Biggs isn’t gonna be running marathons any time soon, but they’re a lot more alive than they would have been if we hadn’t managed to stop Operation Damocles…” Barret spat the word with complete and utter disdain.

 

“When we meet up again, we’re gonna have a lot of new stories to tell, and we’re gonna be the most important cell of Avalanche on the Planet. When people talk about Avalanche, we’re gonna be all that anyone thinks of... Heh, remember when the Old Men in the Canyon sent us that strongly worded letter about how if we continued with our reckless pursuit of violence , they would have no choice but to withdraw their support and insist that we henceforth sever all ties with their organization, including calling ourselves Avalanche?” Tifa giggled, that particular memory always bringing a smile to her lips.

 

“The five of us got together and burned that stupid thing to ashes.” Barret’s deep rumbling laugh always helped put her at ease for some reason.

“Considering we started out with Biggs, Wedge and Jessie and now have Sephiroth, his little brother, a lion wolf and an Ancient… I guess we have sorta moved up in the world.

 

“Heh, Biggs would have loved to get a chance to spend all the money on weapons we just did.”

 

“Wedge woulda loved to get to know a cat that could actually talk back...”

 

“And Jessie may never forgive us for ‘going on an adventure’ without her!”

 

“You ever get the feeling… the three of them were braver than either of us?  I mean, they had a lot more to lose and a lot less to fight with.  They could have backed out when we got that letter, and instead nobody cheered louder than Wedge when I got out a lighter. That letter was the first thing I burned as a member of Avalanche, but it won’t be the last. Shinra’s dug into the Lifestream tight as a tick, and you don’t can’t talk, pull, or yank a tick free… you gotta burn it till it lets go.”

 

End Chapter

AN: To start with, yes, I am completely dropping the idea that Elena had an older sister in the Turks. I’m sorry, but given how incredibly loose lipped she is in the original game I refuse to believe that she comes from a family of spies/secret police officers.

 

Anyway, there’s no set date for Sephiroth’s birth, so I’m placing him when I am because it makes him smack dab in the middle of being a Scorpio which is doubtlessly the astrological sign that best describes Sephiroth’s personality.

 

Not that I believe in astrology/horoscopes of course, I mean if Kadaj is only a few months old he’s most likely a Libra, Virgo or Leo, when it should be obvious to you guys by now that he has the personality of a Pisces.

 

Tifa’s new outfit draws from multiple sources, mainly from her including her Advent Children outfit, with the jacket she’s wearing being the only original contribution on my part.  I decided that in a situation where changing outfits doesn’t require hundreds of man hours of coding work, having Tifa switch outfits once she leaves Midgar just makes sense for the reasons she states in-story.

 

Oh, according to the official FF7 timeline, Barret didn’t find the old Avalanche base/officially start up his group until October of ‘07 with the game starting December of ‘07, but that seems slightly compact in my opinion.

Chapter 19: A dirt road, a cold beer, blue jeans, a red pickup, a rural noun, simple adjective, no shoes, no shirt.

“So, that’s what a ‘zolom’ is.” Aerith finally had her answer, and right now she wished she was still blissfully ignorant.

 

The zolom was HUGE.

 

It was a snake, but a snake that was several times longer than she was tall. Its brown and green scales glistened in the sun as it slithered through the swamp muck with unnatural grace, leaving her glad that the group was keeping well back.

 

“ Hm.  They looked smaller from above… ” Sephiroth noted.

 

“Was that a plural ‘they’ just now?” Barret double checked his gun arm, alarm tightening the corners of his eyes.

 

“It was.  They’re surprisingly numerous for predatory megafauna, enough so that Shinra invested heavily in air transit from Junon rather than commit the forces to guard the overland route from the mine.”

 

“What does something that big even eat?” Tifa wondered.

 

“Whatever it wants. The same as any other Apex Predator." Stargazer answered dryly.

 

“So, if there’s more than one of them, how many of them do we have to deal with to get across this swamp?” Even Kadaj sounded at least slightly wary of the prospect.

 

“Hm… If we can avoid fighting them at all, we should.  They aren’t pack hunters - but they are opportunistic, and more mobile in the swamp than most of us; we have little to gain by killing one, but plenty to lose by getting swarmed in the act.


“That said, I recall periodic, if perfunctory, efforts to wipe out Mythril smugglers in the area. Presuming they didn’t all have access to helicopters, they must have had some method of getting to the mines then  getting back out again in one piece.”

 

“So our new plan is exactly the same as our old plan: infiltrate a criminal organization to find out their secrets?”

 

Sephiroth shook his head.  “From what I understand, it’s less a criminal organization and more a handful of family businesses;  their methods likely fall somewhere between folk knowledge and public record. Adapting those methods to our needs, however, may be another matter entirely.”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“I figured you lot would be back before too long.” The gray haired man had set out a sun chair for himself in front of his small paddock of bipedal yellow birds.

 

“You weren’t the first folks I’ve seen heading in the direction of the marshes only to double back after getting a good look at the zoloms, and you won’t be the last. Just surprised that blond kid didn’t beat you here...” What had been idle chatter now had Sephiroth’s attention.

 

“‘Blond kid’… about this tall?  Passing resemblance to your birds?”

 

“Heh, sounds like you must be pretty familiar with him. Hope you weren’t good friends though; if he tried to go through the marshes on foot… well bad things happen to people who try to go through the marshes on foot.”

 

“With the alternative bein’....” Barret prompted.

 

“ There’s only one safe way to cross the marshes that I know of and that’s on the back of a chocobo raised at the Choco Bill & Choco Billy Chocobo Farm.” The man became more animated as he warmed into his sales pitch.

 

Sephiroth glanced across the dry, sparsely-populated scrubland, then back towards the marsh.

 

“ And your farm is the only place between here and Kalm that sells chocobos.”

 

“ It is. Though technically we don’t even sell, we only rent.”

 

“But if we have to rent your chocobos, we wouldn’t be able to return them since...” Aerith began before the farmer cut her off with an imperious click of his tongue.

 

“I’m afraid that I’ve got a rather strict ask you no questions, you tell me no lies policy when it comes to renting chocobos. My birds are well trained to come running back here once you’re done with them; where they take you in the meantime is strictly your own business.”

 

Sephiroth had encountered less threadbare concealment of illicit enterprises back in Sector Six, but given that Shinra hadn’t seen fit to burn this farm to the ground, its owner must have been more or less beneath their notice.

 

“So how does riding chocobos work exactly? I mean, they don’t look like they have brake pedals or handlebars...” Kadaj leaned over the fence to get a better look at the birds.

 

“The secret to chocobo riding, especially if you’re gonna do something as risky as crossing the marsh, is to find a bird that you can get along with. That’s why if you rent from me, you’ll be given a full twelve hours to get to know every bird in the stable and find one that suits you just right. Money fully refundable so long as you don’t take the bird outside the practice padlock. On the subject, given how low the sun’s getting, we’ve got a few empty stalls you may want torent for the night.”

 

“... Of course you do.”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Hi Taffy, I’m Kadaj!” 

 

“Wark.” The large yellow bird bobbed its head, regarding him with cautious interest.

 

“So Chocobo Bill was going to be kind enough to possibly lend you to us. I just need to make sure that you’re the right chocobo for me, so I’m gonna level with you...” It was important to be open and honest with potential colleagues; why should you expect them to trust you, if you didn’t trust them first?

 

“Wark...”

 

“So there’s this snake. This really big snake. Like, really REALLY big.”

 

“Wark…?”

 

“Okay you got me. I actually haven’t seen that many snakes. Still, judging by how everyone else acts around it, I’m pretty sure it ranks up there.

 

“On top of that big snake, there’s this big swamp. It’s the biggest swamp I’ve ever seen….”

 

“Wark?”

 

“Got me again, I haven’t seen that many swamps either. I promise I’ll ask Sephiroth if he’s seen any bigger ones next chance I get, though! So anyway, the swamp; the swamp  really sucks.  Literally, I mean - like, when you step in it, it tries to suck your boots off.  So, no matter how fast I am, I can’t run across the swamp.” As Kadaj spoke, he got down on his knees and began to inspect the chocobo’s feet.

 

“Which is where you come in. Because I’m told that you chocobos can run across the swamp and it looks like you don’t have boots to lose. So, the plan is, you’re going to run across the swamp, and I’m going to ride on your back. Do you think that you’re up for it?”

 

“Wark!”

 

“Awesome!”

 

Kadaj jumped  onto Taffy’s back.

 

Kadaj promptly slid off of Taffy’s back and landed in the hay.

 

“Okay, I think I might have been a little too enthusiastic there.  Still, I’m not gonna let that keep me down. Let’s try again!”

XXX XXX XXX

 

Elena had not expected to spend the first day of her life as a Turk repeatedly falling down in public .

 

That said, she’d gone into this particular job with one firm conviction… she was not going to give up. Not only was it what Tseng wanted, but her parents hadn’t raised her to be a quitter; she was going to be the best damn accountant that the Shinra Electric Power Company’s Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Auditing Department had ever seen! Because the Department needed people who could investigate and audit, so that was what she’d be helping them do.

 

At least, that was what she kept telling herself, several dozen failed attempts into her efforts to replicate Reno’s “full floor slide”.

 

She couldn’t quit now…too many important people were counting on the Turks to keep them safe. The dedicated, hard working, intelligent agents of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department….

 

One of whom was currently holding up a sign with a “7.7” on it as she lay sprawled on her back yet again.

 

“The judges were very impressed by your dedication, but you forgot to keep your toes curled.” Reno noted cheekily.

 

Elena took a deep breath to steady herself and then focused on standing up, being careful not to slip on the patch of floor she’d lost her balance on scant seconds ago.

 

“Why do you even have that sign?” 

 

“ It’s a prop for the annual inter-office SOLDIERs versus Turks ‘Olympic’ games. Luckily for you they happen in summer, so you’ve got roughly half a year before you’ll need to worry about them. Assuming Sephiroth hasn’t killed us all before then. By the way, don’t take the score to heart, it's an average and the Wutain judge was biased against you from the start.

 

As she began the trek back to Hojo’s office, Elena tried to shake faint feelings of dizziness.

 

“Is there… is there anything useful you can tell me about how to do this job, while I’m practicing?” She eventually asked.

 

Elena was already starting to suspect that Tseng would make a far better role model than Reno, but surely he hadn’t become Sub-Commander by blind luck alone?

 

“As a member of the Turks, what organization is the greatest enemy our department faces?”

 

“Avalanche!” She answered at once.

 

“That’s a rookie mistake there, newbie; Avalanche is just the opposition. Public Safety is the enemy!”

 

Reno spoke with such conviction that Elena was utterly stunned.

 

“What?” Was the best she could eventually manage.

 

“I’ll explain it to you later, right now you need to keep your mind on how best to keep your balance or you’ll never go down in history as the SECOND person to pull off the Full Floor Slide!”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Hello, Guinness.  I’m Reeve Tuesti, one of the six richest men in the world.” 

 

“Wark.” Much like many of his coworkers, Guinness seemed unimpressed with Reeve.

 

“Money the most important thing you can think to talk about right now? Shoulda guessed...” Barret scoffed.

 

After a fair amount of back and forth, it had been decided that the member of Avalanche best suited to killing Reeve at a distance should he attempt to escape would be the one he’d share a chocobo with.

 

Clearly, while Avalanche was ready and willing to take his money, they didn’t plan on letting him ride his own chocobo. Not that he necessarily blamed them; while trying to escape in the middle of a swamp full of gigantic snakes would be extremely risky, doing it on chocobo back might be possible where doing so on foot would be nothing but suicide with extra steps.

 

“It is who I am; I can’t be anyone else.”

 

There had certainly been times when he’d tried to be somebody, anybody else… but Reeve knew he’d never be able to match Reno’s laissez-faire approach to life. Instead, he’d actually cared about the quality of his work. Maybe he was the only person at Shinra who really did? Maybe that was why he’d found himself on a paradoxical upward slide that inevitably took him into Shinra’s top echelons, simply because he wasn’t trying to just get through another day or actively line his pockets with company funds…

 

“Oh really? Way I see it, a man like you doesn’t have a clue who he really is. No man really knows who he is until his back’s against the wall.” Barret rumbled as he loomed ever closer.

 

Reeve gave ground… right up until he felt his back strike the wooden wall of Guinness’ stall.

“...You did that on purpose.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”  Barret snickered.

 

Reeve considered his options; once again, his best way forward was to fall in line, so it was time to pull out the secret technique that had helped him ascend up Shinra’s corporate ladder… being a people pleaser.

 

“Guiness, would you like to hear the story of how I redirected Space Department funds to build the world’s most over engineered robot cat, and a moogle for it to ride on?”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

Elena stood in front of the elevator.

 

She took a deep breath.

 

Then she jumped up and down with delight.

 

“Yes!” She pumped a fist in the air in delight.

 

“Wow… it's almost disturbing how quick you managed to figure this out. I expected come five you’d clock out, and come nine tomorrow  we’d have to start practicing all over again.” Reno admitted.

 

“I had a good teacher.”

 

“Figured out the floor slide in one day and not above blatant flattery; you’re gonna do great here, kid.” Reno offered Elena a familiar pair of black shoes.

 

She wasted no time in putting them back on; even if she had honed her skills to the point that she could pull off a full floor slide, Elena had no plans to spend the rest of the day traversing Shinra HQ in her socks.

 

“You really would have been willing to spend an entire work day doing nothing but coaching me on how to slide from Hojo’s office to the elevator?”

 

“Well, Midgar’s Funniest Home Videos is between seasons, so where else am I gonna see someone slip and fall on their ass that many times? Besides, it's not like I have anything else that I really need to be doing… did Boss give you an important mission you needed to worry about on your very first day in the office? All I had to do on my first day was a little rubber-hose cryptanalysis.

 

As Reno spoke, he pushed the summon elevator button and Elena joined him inside it once it arrived.

 

“Not for today, but he says that he has some field work that he wants me to take part in tomorrow.”

 

“Really? I thought you said that you were just gonna do boring paperwork stuff around the office so the rest of us didn’t have to?”

 

“The ‘boring paperwork stuff’ may cover my main duties, but Tseng thinks that having some idea of what the actual ‘conditions on the ground’ said  paperwork reflects could prove useful.”

 

“Well, hopefully you’ll make it back in one piece so I won’t have wasted my time by giving you the tour. We’ll start with the lounge, since I think there’s something there I need to deal with before I deal with  the video recordings Boss wanted me to handle for Rufus.”

 

“You mean Rufus Shinra? You’ve been given a task by the President himself?”

 

“No, I was given a task by the Boss; that means it’s much more important! Anyway, like I said, aside from teaching you how to do a FFS there’s one other thing I need to take care of first...”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“So, you’re Elmo?” Tifa asked her prospective mount.

 

The bird ignored her in favor of preening his feathers.

 

“Sorry, let me try this again. St. Elmo’s Fire?”

 

“Wark!”

 

“Don’t know why your owner assigned you to me, maybe it was just me getting lucky again.”  She bared her teeth in what could charitably be called a smile.  “There are few things that have defined my life more… than fire.” 

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Falcon?” Sephiroth greeted the chocobo in question.

 

“Wark?” It greeted him right back.

 

“You seem to be in good health.” Sephiroth felt like an imbecile making small talk with a bird, but at least there was no one around to see him embarrass himself.

 

“Wark...”

 

He took a deep breath, and then let it out as a weary sigh, leaning back against the edge of Falcon’s stall.

 

“I don’t know why I’m doing this. Your owner may think that it's important that we establish an emotional connection, but when the time comes, you wouldn’t be able to throw me off no matter how hard you tried. Proper grip with the legs reinforced by a tight hold on the reins. You might be  strong enough to toss off a normal rider, but not me; it’s mathematics.

 

“Your owner feels we’re well-matched, but wouldn’t say why.  It’s aggravating… know what traits to look for, then determine their presence or absence; that sort of approach always appealed to me more than meandering around matters with ‘ smalltalk ’.”

“Wark.”

 

It seemed like Sephiroth would have little choice in the matter but to meander.

 

“If I really am just supposed to talk to you about things at random and see how you react… fine .  Let’s talk about numbers.”

“Waarrrkkk…”

“Too many people aren't willing to make the effort to examine the context of their actions, to calculate variables and carefully analyze cause and effect. It’s not just that you can use numbers to predict the natural phenomena that we encounter; if you look deep enough, you can see complex quasi-mathematical equations play out in how people act .”

 

“Wark!”

 

“Take Zack; he came from a loving home with loving parents and his life was only indirectly touched by tragedy with the meltdown of Gongaga’s reactor. That’s… why he was who he was. 

 

Then there’s me… when you add up all the variables that went into making me who I am … could I really have been any different?”

 

“Wa-”

 

“Don’t answer that. 

 

“The nature of our parents, our upbringings, define who we are. We make our own choices, but what choices occur to us in the first place are often decided by factors we have no control over. In effect, we live our lives invisibly trammeled by the events of our past...

 

“You’re a yellow chocobo; no matter how much you train, you’re never going to be able to run across rivers because your toes aren’t webbed.”

 

“Wark.”

 

“No offense intended, obviously.” A part of Sephiroth had to  wonder why he was expounding on his personal philosophy at such length to a bird that couldn’t possibly grasp the nuance.

 

“Returning to the matter at hand: you’re a domesticated chocobo. You run around while people ride on your back. I’m going to get on your back and you’re going to run across the swamp. Then I’ll give you some greens as a reward for meritorious service.”

 

“Wark!” Falcon eagerly agreed

 

“Glad to see we understand each other.” 

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Alright. It finally arrived... before I take care of anything else, I need to deal with THIS.” Reno insisted a few minutes later in the General Affairs Auditing Department Lounge as he rested his hand atop an envelope with his name on it.

 

“What is it exactly?” Elena didn’t want to belabor the point that Reno considered said item more important than a task that had originated from Rufus Shinra himself, but it would be nice to at least know its nature.

 

Reno ripped the envelope open like a bear going after a beehive. With its layer of protective covering discarded haphazardly upon the floor, only a small slip of paper remained.

 

“My SSB check.” Reno all but spat the words.

 

“ Your what?”

 

“Sephiroth Survival Bonus. General Heidegger has started giving them out to everyone who gets in a fight with him and survives. Guess our tactical genius realized no one would ever willingly fight Sephiroth twice.” As he spoke Reno grabbed a pen and started scribbling away."

 

“Well I mean, it's better than nothing isn’t it? Not only that, but I hear you were the one who deactivated Avalanche’s bomb! You saved sixty thousand peoples’ lives!” Elena tried to buoy her coworker’s spirits.

 

“And for that, I’m being given a check for thirty two gil. Thirty two gil for the most horrifying, most traumatizing, and second most humiliating experience of my life. That’s not even enough money for me to buy a cake with which to express my feelings! So, I decided to be the bigger man for once… eh, so to speak . ”

 

Reno pulled his hands away from the check, finally giving Elena a chance to see what exactly he’d been writing.

 

VOID! EAT SHIT BOB.

XXX XXX XXX

“Hello Hazel, it’s nice to meet you.” Aerith smiled warmly.

 

“Wark!” the chocobo trilled back, seeming to be in a decidedly good mood.

 

Then Hazel noticed that the florist wasn’t the only new arrival to the somewhat cramped stall.

 

“Warrrrrrkkkkk…?” The bird shied, stomping the ground anxiously.

 

“I don’t think she likes me.” Stargazer remarked drily.

 

“Have you… spent much time around chocobos before?”

 

“In a manner...”

 

Aerith didn’t need especially long to parse out the true meaning of his statement.

 

“Let me guess, dietary staple?” 

 

“Their bipedal nature makes them quite easy to immobilize, and their necks aren’t flexible enough to easily reach you if you can get up on their backs.”

 

“Okay, let's try this again from the top… Hazel, Stargazer isn’t interested in eating you.”

 

“It would also be extremely unlikely for me to have eaten any of her flock mates, given how little time I’ve been free since being brought to this continent.”

 

“Warrrrk!” Hazel found these words less than reassuring.

 

“Guess we should give her some more time to get used to you, before we try any trust building exercises.”

 

Hazel’s agitated, wary behavior was oddly familiar, Aerith reflected.  It had taken her a few minutes to recognize it, and the chocobo’s performance was certainly less subtle, but during their entire trek from Midgar, in the inn at Kalm, and even during their journey after it, she couldn’t once remember Stargazer standing within ten feet of Sephiroth - or on his left. 

 

She was honestly a little surprised, Tifa and Barret seemed to have more or less buried the hatchet with Sephiroth despite his time as the public face of Shinra… so why was Stargazer still holding a grudge?

 

“I know that it can’t be easy after what Shinra did to you… but it’s been nearly half a decade since he last worked  for them.” She pointed out, hoping that Stargazer would be more easily won over than Hazel.

 

Her blood went cold as another thought struck her.

 

“Shinra hadn’t been holding you hostage for that long, have they?”

 

“No.” 

 

“Also, since you insist on prying into the matter, my wariness towards our leader has nothing to do with his service towards some two legged pack.”

 

“Then what is?” Aerith now felt nearly as confused by Stargazer’s actions towards Sephiroth as Hazel was over the fact that he hadn’t tried to eat her yet.

 

“It is my fervent wish that one day, you might see the world as I see it..”

 

“How do you see him, then?” Aerith pressed.

 

“... Unnatural.  Dangerous.” 

 

“Then… why are you even still traveling with us? I mean, having somebody to hold your harness makes it easier for you to fit in when moving through cities, but I’m sure you could find a way home on your own sooner or later...”

 

“The thought had crossed my mind… before Kalm. I see what he is… and I have heard his tale of Nibelheim. He is unnatural, and he is dangerous… and he no more chose his nature than I did my own.  I heed my instincts, as I do my intellect, but I assume neither to be infallible; I can abide him, but I am most comfortable doing so from a safe distance.”

 

“I can understand that,”  Aerith turned a wry smile on the chocobo that was doing its best to phase through the wall.  “It’s too bad Hazel doesn’t have the same option…”

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

“Tell me you’ve got something I can use.”  Rufus was out of place in the Turk lounge, almost glaringly so.  White suit, white shoes, everything custom tailored and the kind of clean that suggested it had never really been dirty, contrasting sharply with the expensive, but well-worn and somewhat rumpled furniture - and matching operative.  He glared impatiently at the video wall that dominated one side of the room as if willing it to populate itself with valuable intelligence.

“Aaas it so happens...” Reno tapped a couple of keys on his laptop, and the video wall came to life.  “The good news is that Don Corneo’s mansion happens to have lots of cameras in it. Unusually high-def for security cams; make of that what you will.  The bad news is that most of the footage ain’t safe for work - but don’t worry, I’ve already submitted my hazard pay forms. Anyhoo, watch this carefully and make sure to pay close attention to Sephiroth when our Ancient clobbers that mook with the chair…”

 

Reno played the video, but Rufus seemed remarkably unimpressed.

 

“What should I have noticed, exactly?”

 

“A fair question!  Sephiroth’s got one hell of a poker face, but check the eyes: normally, they look like a cat’s at noon… but at this moment, why, they look almost human!  Basically, what you're seein’, Mr. President, is a twenty seven year old man abruptly discovering that he is not asexual. It's a beautiful thing really, like watching a baby duckling go into the water for the first time. Before you say a word, I have some important related evidence you should be aware of as well!”

 

“Related evidence?”

 

“Yes! You see, by pulling a few strings I was actually able to get a recording of the shop where the Ancient obtained that red number she's wearing. Not inside the dressing room itself of course, but let's take another look at our silver haired General; we can consider this our ‘control group’ for the previous sample….

 

“She comes out dressed like that , and yet... nothing. At most he might be aware that there's something aesthetically pleasing about how she looks, but it just doesn't matter to him; like he's looking at a statue instead of an actual woman. Put a folding chair in her hands though, and, Rocket Town, we have ignition!

 

“Now, I can't scientifically prove it, but I would estimate with a roughly sixty nine percent certainty that at the exact moment that she swings the chair, if we could see the event through Sephiroth's eyes the entire world would be experiencing a soft blurring effect while rose petals drifted down from out of nowhere….”

 

“Reno. I.  Am cutting. Your pay.”

 

The Turk had to fight back a snicker of derision…

 

Rufus might be the Shinra Electric Power Company’s newest CEO, but if he thought that would give him the power to just cut Reno’s pay … well, the very idea was laughable!

 

The reason lay over three decades in the past, when John Shinra had decided to cement his position as the most powerful man in the world by cutting the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department’s dental plan.

 

Most people might have rolled over and taken that kind of treatment from a man whose company owned a near monopoly on power generation across the entire Planet, but not his “negotiating partner” at the time.

 

No, that legendary Turk, the “Heartless Valentine,” had decided that he wasn’t going to take such treatment lying down. Since he couldn’t do anything to John Shinra, instead he’d proceeded to personally oversee a campaign of terror against the city of Midgar’s orthodontists. oral hygienists, and maxillofacial surgeons until they’d agreed to offer their services to Turks at an extremely steep discount, regardless of if said Turks had insurance or not.

 

Those brave actions, including the rumored death of one practitioner who had been found strapped to a dental chair having suffocated on their own supply of nitrous oxide, was why Reno had such a winning smile today.

 

That wasn’t the only thing the Heartless Valentine had done to help his fellow Turks though… he’d also seen to it that they proceeded to bury their department’s payroll under a mile of red tape and bureaucratic obfuscation. He’d established a system of maskirovka that Shinra had never matched during the whole of the Wutain war.

 

Any attempt to formally reduce a Turk’s salary would be promptly countered by the utilization of alternative revenue streams. Rufus Shinra would have an easier time slashing through a jungle of kudzu with a butter knife than he would cutting Reno’s pay. Especially since their merger with the Auditing Department had given the Turks access to countless other ways to draw the funds they deserved from Shinra’s coffers.

 

Before the ink was even dry on that order it would turn out that Reno had bought some doodad or other that was actually a business expense and so he was owed considerable financial recompense for the act… It was adorable the way that Rufus Shinra thought that he could determine Reno’s salary just because Reno worked for him; clearly Shinra’s new CEO had a lot to learn about the business world!

 

XXX XXX XXX

 

‘Bird time with a Shinra Bigwig’ had never been on Barret’s bucket list, but it had been manageable enough. Spending a night sleeping in a chocobo stall was, it turned out, a lateral move compared to his sleeping conditions in Seventh Heaven’s secret basement.

 

Needing to guide a chocobo across a super-sized-snake filled swamp while overseeing a hostage all with only one arm had turned out to be surprisingly easy as well.

 

What wasn’t easy was figuring out how to react to what waited for him on the other side of the swamp.

 

It was a zolom.

 

A dead zolom.

The monstrous serpent lay half in and half out of the swamp, evidently having tried and failed to slither back to the safety of its lair after having its head hacked about three quarters of the way off.

 

Barret had long ago made peace with the prospect of his own death, but he’d expected to die fighting Shinra’s lackeys, not someone  who could go mano a mano with a thirty foot long snake.

 

“Guess that explains how one person could destroy an entire town.” He admitted tentatively.

 

“We hunt dangerous prey. But it will not be my first such hunt; the Grand Horn may gore a careless hunter, but we hunt all the same.” Stargazer concluded.

 

Aerith grimaced.  “Speaking as someone whose greatest physical achievement is getting a fifty pound bag of fertilizer off the ground… can all you guys do that?” 

 

“Um… probably?  Seph definitely can - right?”

 

After a moment, Sephiroth gave a slight nod.  ”There’s nothing uncanny about this; we were told if you tried to cross the swamp on foot you’d get attacked.  Strife crossed the swamp on foot; he was attacked.  He dealt with the obstacle, then moved on without a second thought…  as should we. He’s already widened his lead due to us needing chocobos; whatever he wants to do in Junon, the less time he has to do it before we get there, the better.

 

When Sephiroth was right, he was right; they had a job that needed doing, and that meant it was time for them to head into the mine.

 

End Chapter

 

AN: All of the Chocobo names are taken from a list of names of various horses my mom has ridden at one time or another.

 

Also, given that in the original game the Midgar Zolom endlessly respawns after you defeat it, and there’s at least one of them hunting you even after Sephiroth impaled another, I’m going to assume that “the Midgar Zolom” is actually a race of gigantic snakes with there being like at least a dozen of them. I’m also not going to try and figure out how that’s ecologically viable, this is after all the same game that has you fight living motorcycle monsters at one point.

 

The word “maskirovka” Reno uses is a Russian word (which I feel entirely justified in using given how much Russian shows up in Dirge of Cerberus… oh wait… um… did I just base some of this fic on Dirge of Cerberus? I feel like I need of a shower all of a sudden...) that basically means “military deception”, you could compare it to camouflage, but while camouflage is typically about “how does one particular person avoid getting noticed” maskirovka is about how do you hide your intentions and mislead your opponent about the locations of entire units. Wearing colors that match your surroundings is camouflage, creating entire fake army groups with inflatable tanks you want your enemy to spot while keeping your actual forces hidden is maskirovka.

 

Finally, Reno’s reaction to the Sephiroth Survival Bonus check is a reference to exactly what you think it is.

Chapter 20: The hour's approaching, to give it your best, and you've got to reach your prime! That’s when you need to put yourself to the test and show us a passage of time…

---

Tseng felt his fingers twitch as he waited for what came next.  It was at times like this he wished he could have followed his subordinate’s path in finding comfort and courage from a bottle.  If everything went as expected Avalanche would be entering the Mythril Mine soon, and he and the other Turks would be waiting for them.  Trapped in the 'wait' half of 'hurry up and...' Tseng found himself once again wrestling with an intrusive thought he’d been encountering far too frequently ever since John Shinra’s death… There are too many pieces on this board.

Tseng was able to feel himself losing control; a clockmaker watching their greatest creation strip its gears and fall out of pace moment by moment.

Not only did events feel increasingly chaotic, but exponentially so; the rate at which chaos increased was in turn increasing itself.

Faced with such an unsustainable situation, there really was only one option: find some way to intentionally simplify matters before they became simplified because of someone else’s intention.

So Tseng was going to take a risk.  He was going to make an assumption .

He’d come up with a new plan, one that hinged on the premise that while what side Sephiroth was playing for might have changed, his methodology wouldn’t have.  The General would decide on an objective and then advance upon it with the inexorability of a glacier, if not necessarily its patience.

Sephiroth had managed to break into Shinra HQ, but both casualties and property damage had been shockingly light, all things considered.  That meant that either Sephiroth placed Aerith’s freedom above harming Shinra… or midway through the break in he’d discovered something that had made him decide that Shinra was no longer his top priority.

If the former was true, then Sephiroth’s and Tseng’s goals were already sufficiently in alignment.  If he wasn’t that lucky, he’d have to try and figure out what Sephiroth’s new goal actually was . 

 Avalanche loved to talk about how they fought to protect the Planet… hopefully this version of it would actually mean it….  By sheer random chance you would think that, of the countless mouthpieces  - including Shinra’s own - who’d made that particular claim, one must eventually end up meaning it.  Granted, the genocidal goals of its prior iteration had been a low bar, but had at least served to quiet any qualms he might have had about things he’d had to do since taking command of the Turks.

Everything that had came before would hopefully make him cold-blooded enough to succeed today, and if he couldn’t actively take pieces off of the board… at least he might be able to temporarily reduce the number of sides at play….

XXX XXX XXX

“General Sephiroth!” A clipped voice rang out from above.

Barret’s eyes snapped upwards, followed a second later by the barrel of his gun.  The muscles in his shoulders that would send hot lead flying out of its barrel began to tense at the sight of the black haired man in a blue suit.

This wasn’t good.  Being caught mid-march by the leader of Shinra’s own secret police was a situation no revolutionary wanted to find themselves in.  Still, if this was an ambush, it was a very strange one.

If Barret had been in the Turk’s well-shined shoes, he wouldn’t have opened his ambush by verbally giving away his position.  No, if you were gonna surprise Sephiroth, best to do it by detonating a few dozen pounds of buried C4 from a safe distance to distract him from the incoming artillery strike.

So if this wasn’t an ambush… what exactly was it?

“I’m glad to see that you’re still alive, sir.” Tseng snapped a textbook salute.

“I regret to inform you that our most recent mission on behalf of cooperation between the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department and SOLDIER ended in failure. We had reason to believe that the Science and Research Department had performed improper detention and experimentation on a member of SOLDIER; we attempted to extract them back to Midgar where they could be safely debriefed, but the SOLDIER in question perished before we reached them.

“If it is of any consolation, I used my position to make sure that the SOLDIER’s family would receive all due compensation for their son’s death in the line of duty.”

Barret had done what he could to learn about each of Shinra’s top troubleshooters were like, and this was not how he’d heard Tseng was supposed to act.  The Turk Commander was supposed to be as straight to the point as a switchblade to the heart, so why was he now acting twisty as a corkscrew?

“Clarify the date of your mission, the name of the fallen SOLDIER, and his cause of death.”  Sephiroth’s voice was low and even, but Barret could have sworn the temperature in the cave had dropped a few degrees.

“September 20 th of this year, Zack Fair.  Lamentably, the cause of death is currently classified.” Tseng answered at once.

“Understood.  Do you have any other information relating to my sabbatical that you wish to report?”

Barret was starting to deeply wish that this particular conversation came with subtitles to highlight what the hell the Turk and the General were actually saying under all this formal bullshit.

“With the lamentable early demise of John Shinra, his controlling interest in the Shinra Mako and Electric Power Company has been passed on to his son Rufus, who is now the organization’s CEO. Rufus is determined to bring his father’s killer to justice and hopes that every part of the Shinra Organization from Public Safety to the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department to SOLDIER will give its utmost to track down the vile villain.”

“Said killer being a renegade trooper by the name of Cloud Strife.”

“I’m pleased to hear that you’re already hard at work investigating the matter. I’m also surprised to discover that Shinra has finally managed to produce a combat canine variant that meets with your personal approval. If you haven’t already, I’ll file the necessary paperwork to have it transferred from the Science and Research Department to work alongside you on a more permanent basis.” Tseng offered with a quick glance in Stargazer’s direction.

The one eyed former labrat let out a surprisingly human sigh.

“Woof.”

“I’d also like to convey the new President’s personal thanks for your part in aiding Shinra’s efforts to stop the Plate from crushing Sector Seven. You’d be rewarded with a medal for your performance, but your part in the mission is still too highly classified - and Shinra would need to invent a new one as you already hold all our existing rewards for meritorious service.”

“I see.  Does he have any new orders for me?”

“The President feels his best course of action is to simply give you your head in this matter. The situation is quite uncertain, so he feels you’ll be able to accomplish more working on your own than being second guessed by corporate bureaucracy.”

This, Barret could interpret confidently: Tseng was using a great number of words to say, more or less, ‘Rufus doesn’t want to give you any new ideas for things Shinra doesn’t want you doing.’

“That said, there is one more key piece of information I need you to be aware of. Elena, show yourself.”

A moment later a familiar bald turk came into view on the edge of a precipice opposite Tseng, accompanied by a small blonde woman.

“I'm the newest member of the Turks, Elena. I was brought on board to streamline the auditing functions of the General Affairs, uh, Auditing… Department. I graduated top of my class from...”

Tseng cut her introduction short with a raised hand.

“It’s always an interesting experience to meet a new Turk.” Sephiroth mused, with what Barret thought might just be the faintest touch of levity in his voice, though of course with Sephiroth faint touches went a long way.

XXX XXX XXX

(Flashback)

“With all due respect, sir I’m worried that I’ll produce a substandard performance when it comes to my most recently assigned duties because I lack a full understanding of their overall importance to the department.” Elena broached the awkward topic in an even more awkward manner.

“Elena, I suggest that you elide diction of a superfluously sesquipedalian nature and eliminate excess magniloquence from our interlocutions.”  Tseng allowed a moment for the over-articulated admonition to sink in.  “While I appreciate the effort, the point of my prior reprimand was to illuminate the error in second guessing me, not to make you turn every question you asked me into a game of buzzword bingo - just being able to see the difference between ‘what goals are my orders in pursuit of’ and ‘why are you making me do this’ is enough.

“By way of answer… do you know what I consider to be my primary obligation as the director of the Investigation Sector of the General Affairs Department?”

“To fulfill all orders given to you by your superiors?”

“To protect the Company’s interests.  Each Turk is a unique resource, and very few mission objectives will ever be more useful in the long run than having all of my Turks alive would be.  Your job is to give your all to carry out your orders; mine is to make sure you survive to do it again tomorrow, and a big part of that is risk management . .”

Elena felt a strange sense of warmth in her chest. Her superior’s words might be borderline clinical, but it was clear that he really cared all the same.

“So going on this mission will make me less likely to die?”  She still didn’t see how that would happen, but at least she could follow her superior’s advice about cutting straight to the point this time.

“Yes.  During the recent attack on Shinra HQ, objects were stolen from our lounge; that means that even if you never participate in a field mission, there exists a chance that Avalanche would come to you instead. That’s why we’re going to make it clear to them that even if you’re wearing a Turk uniform, you’re a functionary, not an operative.”

“You really think that will make a difference to the people who destroyed two reactors and were going to wipe out an entire sector?” Elena knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words left her lips.

The brief flicker of some emotion she couldn’t quite name must surely have been a result of him getting upset at her for second guessing him again.

“It is very easy for terrorists to kill large numbers of people impersonally. It’s harder, even for people with lots of experience, to kill a person whose name you know when they’re staring you in the face.”

Elena decided to let the matter drop.

XXX XXX XXX

“That concludes most of the relevant business matters at hand. Do please continue your exemplary work protecting Shinra’s Ancient. There would be a great many people who would be extremely upset if any harm befell her.”

“You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not in the room you know.”

Tseng took a moment to straighten his tie before responding.

“Forgive me for my overly formal approach to these matters, but I wouldn’t want anyone to think that our past interactions have left me emotionally compromised where you’re concerned, Miss Gainsborough. With so much going on in the world, there is unlikely to be time for a proper performance review and so I might simply be abruptly replaced instead. I would like to hope that is an outcome we’d both prefer to avoid.”

“I guess I have to give you that, having to deal with somebody new would be a bit bothersome. Does this mean we should expect a return to our regular Friday check-ins?”

Aerith’s tone was just a little too airy, her smile just a little too friendly… and there had been just a touch of emphasis on the word ‘we.’  Sephiroth leveled a flat stare up at Tseng for good measure.

Tseng cleared his throat and straightened his tie again, somewhat unnecessarily.  “I’m afraid not. My duties are being shifted to focus on tracking down the former president's killer. We may not see each other again for quite a while…”

“Such a shame, sounds like I won’t get any more free helicopter rides…”

Tseng didn’t bother to reply; he simply retreated deeper into the caves, his two subordinates swiftly following suit.

“Well.  That’s not how I expected that conversation to go.” Admitted Tifa.

“Shinra may be evil but they ain’t all stupid. Even they’re realizing not to stand downhill of this Avalanche.”

XXX XXX XXX

“We need to visit that reactor.” Barret insisted as the huge structure began to take shape on the horizon.

“Aren’t you a little light on explosives at the moment?” Reeve almost choked on the words; sarcasm was a luxury of the safe, and it didn’t take much imagination to see that his life could get considerably worse if he made a nuisance of himself.

“The reactor with the bird on it isn’t in Shinra’s hands any more. Surprised the man in charge of all their infrastructure is hearing it from me, though.” Barret concluded with a mocking chuckle.

“Once Midgar’s reactors were fully functional, we dropped this one out of the network.  Nothing else about it ever crossed my desk.”

“This place is supposed to be the nerve center of anti-Shinra activity on this continent. Only Cosmo Canyon and Wutai are more invested.” Tifa added approvingly.

“If it doesn’t belong to Shinra, why is stopping there so important?” Kadaj inquired.

“...Because it gives us a chance to rest.” Sephiroth shot a glance in the Cetra’s direction.

Aerith and Reeve continued to de facto set the pace as the mere mortals of the group, but Avalanche wasn’t likely to be taking any breaks for his sake.

“Rest, and also resupply. We managed to get most of what we needed in Kalm, but as the businessman himself pointed out, some things are a little tricky to purchase. Would be a shame to visit a major Shinra base like Junon without being able to leave the bastards something to remember us by.”

“While I realize I don’t have much, make that any , leverage at the moment, even if you destroy the reactor… please don’t damage the docks. Keeping a city the size of Midgar fed...”

“You call what you were doing keeping Midgar fed?”

“‘Keeping Midgar from breaking out in open riots due to mass starvation’ is a tricky thing at the best of times; if you cut off one of the continent's main trade arteries...”

“That would be bad?” Kadaj concluded, somewhat unnecessarily.

“Quite.”

Sephiroth pondered the issue in silence for a few moments, staring Reeve down as if evaluating everything that the Director of Urban Development had done since being captured by Avalanche.

The sensation was uncanny; Reeve spent hours poring over spreadsheets in his office, using them to store vast amounts of data and automatically handle complex calculations. Somehow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the exact same amount of data, the same kind of complex calculations were all taking place behind Sephiroth’s glimmering eyes. No wonder he’d been feeling like quitting Shinra five years ago; it was a wonder a mind like that hadn’t overclocked itself into meltdown well before his trip to Nibelheim!

“Too many unknowns. Strife and Jenova want me in Junon, but I don’t know why; I don’t know under what conditions we may be leaving the city, and sabotaging Shinra’s port facilities may become necessary. The most I’d be able to do is consider keeping the docks intact a secondary objective.”

“I… understand.  Thank you for hearing me out.”  Reeve had accepted worse ‘bargains’ in the Shinra boardroom.

XXX XXX XXX

As the group began to make their way up a trail that was barely wide enough for them to walk two abreast, they discovered that a pair of men in civilian clothing dyed dark with mud and moss were waiting for them.

Sephiroth spotted them first, but they were at least alert enough to spare him the trouble of greeting them.

“Oh, crap ! This is it! I told you that the boss was a fool for not creating a ‘code silver’ drill the moment anyone suspected he wasn’t dead!”

“Now, hold on; latest rumors are that he’s on our side now!”

“But what if those rumors are wrong ?”

“Then it wouldn’t make a difference if we manage to raise the alarm or not, so why waste your final moments running around like a chocobo with its head cut off?”

Clearly, Sephiroth’s reputation had preceded him.

The calmer of the two sentries decided to welcome Sephiroth’s arrival with a salute, and after an elbow to the ribs his partner did likewise.

“It’s an honor to have you at Fort Condor, General Sephiroth!”

“You are on our side and aren’t about to kill us all for defying Shinra, right?”

“Got that right. Seems like you can teach a silver hound new tricks, because ever since I met him he’s done nothing but shit in Shinra’s loafers.” Sephiroth cut Barret a halfhearted glare, but didn’t bother to gainsay the enthusiastic endorsement..

“Well then, we’re very glad to have you on board!” the more excitable of the two declared with a sigh of relief.

“The Fort doesn’t have as many soldiers as we’d like at the moment, let alone SOLDIERs.” The other guard quickly added.

XXX XXX XXX

One of the sentries radioed for a replacement and escorted them to an audience with the Fort’s commander, a haggard looking man whose gray hair was partly covered by a wide brimmed brown hat.

“Well, this is an unexpected reunion to say the least.”

Sephiroth inclined his head in acknowledgment, then his eyes narrowed in concentration.  “Your face, I have seen you before… Wutai, I think… but your name escapes me.”

“My name is Crix, and I actually fought in the Wutain War for a brief bit; we were probably deployed on the same front at some point. But then I was injured badly enough to earn a discharge, and I thought that would be the end of my days in uniform. Well, I guess I was technically correct...” Crix admitted, taking a moment to examine his own unremarkable and distinctly civilian clothing.

“I’m in charge of leading Fort Condor’s resistance to Shinra’s attempts to reclaim the reactor.”

“But Reeve said Shinra took the reactor out of its power grid. Why would they want to take the reactor over again when they don’t need it? That’d just get people killed for nothing…” Kadaj piped up.

“Midgar might be experiencing a sudden need for additional power generation at the moment.” Reeve noted, keeping his tone carefully neutral and his gaze focused very firmly on an unremarkable spot on the wall.

“If you’re implying what I think you are, the timeline doesn’t match up. These folks look to have been defending this place way too long for Shinra to have only started trying to reclaim it after we started hittin’ reactors.” Barret countered.

“You’re right. From what we’ve been able to gather from the various defectors, Shinra doesn’t have any plans to get the reactor running again. Instead, they plan to decommission the entire thing to get at some sort of special materia inside. But by the time Shinra turned their eyes towards this reactor, the condor up top had already laid its eggs, eggs that need to go undisturbed for roughly a year to actually hatch. So, me and some other folks decided that we wanted to do at least one good thing in our lives, something we could be proud of. That’s why we’re going to keep Shinra away from the reactor until the condor’s eggs hatch or we die trying.

“The way things are going though, today might be that day, since our intelligence suggests that Shinra has a pretty big convoy on the way here from Junon.  For all I know, they might even launch their next attack before sunset...”

XXX XXX XXX

“Captain Felth, why aren’t our men already mustering for battle?  Do you think that we came all the way here just so that we could sit around and twiddle our thumbs?”

“General Hess, my scouts detected that the enemy might be getting unexpected reinforcements from an Avalanche cell in the area. In light of the danger they represented, I thought it would be better to delay the attack.”

“ "Oh, so it's insubordination AND cowardice, is it?  We outnumber the rebels at least four to one! What difference could a...”

“The description my scouts got matched that of The Midgar Cell.”

“You mean?”

“Code silver, two instances.”

“You know Captain Felth , I've always said you had a good head on your shoulders! ”

XXX XXX XXX

“Until that attack actually arrives, what should we be doing?” Sephiroth volunteered.

“Whatever you can. I’m sure that my men would be inspired just by getting a chance to talk with the real live General Sephiroth, but in pretty much any room you walk into in this place you’ll be able to find something that needs fixing or doing. We’ve got too many men who have their hearts in the right places and too little of the proper training to survive fifteen seconds in a real battle. We’ve also been trying to establish a cavalry force to harry Shinra’s flanks when they attack up the mountain, even managed to get our hands on some green chocobos, but they’re cleverer than you’d think - one of them found a way out of the pen and the rest just followed it; now they’re running wild all over the place.”

“So, you need someone to chase chocobos? I have some experience in that area.” Stargazer declared, his tail swaying back and forth in anticipation of the hunt.

The rebel leader blinked a few times in surprise, clearly not having expected the group’s quadrupedal member to be capable of speech.

“We’d …be glad to have your help?” He eventually managed.

“Do you have a greenhouse, or some other kind of garden area?”  Aerith abruptly cut in.

“We surely do… but everything’s already planted.  You’re more than welcome to look around, but I’m not sure what kind of difference you’re hoping to make, there..”  Crix warned.

Aerith deflected his skepticism with a confident smile and a gesture towards Kadaj’s floral adornment.

“I grew this, in Lower Midgar - and flowers aren’t the only thing that I can grow.  They bring in the plateside money, but I’ve been growing potatoes under the plate for just as long; you show me the garden, I’ll show you the produce!”

Sephiroth could admit, at least privately, that the formal florist's cheerful confidence had a certain charm to it, even when it wasn't taking problems off his plate. When it was ...

XXX XXX XXX

“ I’d been skimping on weapon maintenance until it misfired during a drill, so what are you in for?”

“I’m one of the six richest men on the planet..”

“…. Got any stock tips?”

“...Well, prices do usually slump when the CEO dies unexpectedly.”

XXX XXX XXX

After the meeting Sephiroth had made himself at home on top of one of Fort Condor’s many ramshackle structures; it got him out of the way yet still gave him a good vantage point to spot any moving Shinra troop formations.  Until the attack Crix predicted actually arrived he was going to spend his time reviewing some documents he’d obtained from the staff of Fort Condor. Unsurprisingly, rebels who had set up shop relatively close to one of Shinra’s main military bases could provide more current information than his five year old memories.

Studying them in detail should allow him to brush up on troop numbers and discover exactly how Shinra had seen fit to reinforce the place after the first version of Avalanche had managed to temporarily capture the Mako Canon… surely they must have reinforced the place after coming within a hair’s breadth of complete catastrophe…

He began eagerly poring over their reports on facilities and troop numbers, and while most of them were second hand, sprinkled in among the scouting reports were debriefings of defecting Shinra troopers who had more direct knowledge.  It would make for interesting reading… if only he didn’t keep getting distracted by a particular series of sounds rising up from the yard below.

“Again!” Kadaj’s voice, determined and unfaltering.

The sound of metal impacting on metal.

Something firm yet blunt flesh contacting flesh.

A grunt of pain.

A short pause.

“Again!” Thus did the cycle repeat.

Sephiroth was only able to listen to it for about half a dozen repetitions before succumbing to curiosity.

A quick glance confirmed that indeed Kadaj was currently positioned in the middle of an outdoor training area, sparring against some of Fort Condor’s other occupants. That was reasonable enough on its own, but it should have made the fourth sound in the cycle Sephiroth had been listening to impossible…. How were any of these people hitting Kadaj, let alone hurting him?

His brother still had a lot of room to grow as a swordsman, but going up against unenhanced, barely-trained humans, he should have easily been able to coast to victory on his superior speed and strength alone…

So Sephiroth sat and quietly watched as Kadaj and his opponent traded blows, both of them having wrapped their blades in thick padding so they’d be less likely to inflict serious injury on each other.

The rebel came at Kadaj with an overhand slash.

Kadaj tried to block with Souba… in the least effective way possible.

It would have been one thing if Kadaj had simply been doing hard blocks that absorbed the entire force of his opponent’s blows with his arms instead of parries that redirected that force out into empty space, but this… this was even more absurd.

So far as Sephiroth could tell, Kadaj was trying to perfectly angle Souba so that the sword being swung at him would end up getting trapped between its twin blades. When that maneuver -analogous to threading a needle at combat speed - inevitably failed, the rebel’s sword simply bounced off the edge of Souba’s outer blade and continued downward to slam into Kadaj’s arm.

Sephiroth hadn’t known Kadaj for long, but it had been long enough to know that there was no point in expecting him to stop any time soon. Sephiroth was either going to have to learn how to ignore the sounds Kadaj was making, or go study Junon’s defenses somewhere else.

That, or he’d have to get personally involved in his brother’s training regimen.

Carefully tucking the papers into an inside pocket, he jumped down from his perch and headed over.

“Kadaj?”

Kadaj’s head swung around.

“Come over here.”

“We’ll try this some more later, promise!” Kadaj informed his sparring partner and then jogged over to Sephiroth’s side.

“What were you doing?”

“Training with Souba…. Was I doing something wrong?”  Kadaj’s head tilted to the side quizzically, making it clear that his repeated failures hadn’t yet caused him to consider that the problem might be his chosen technique rather than its implementation.

“Why were you trying to block like that?” Sephiroth left the ‘yes’ gently unspoken.

“Oh, um the Doctors explained to me that pulling off that technique is why Souba’s has its unique design. The two parallel blades allow me to catch my opponent’s sword between them, then with a flick of my wrist I can disarm them… I’m just not very good at actually doing it yet.  I think the padding’s actually making it harder...”

Sephiroth gave the sword in question another quick glance, and then Kadaj a much longer look. He’d ho ped to go longer without needing to have this discussion, but if it was actively getting in the way of Kadaj developing proper sword fighting technique, it needed to be out in the open.

“Do you remember how I explained that ‘if you can’t leave it whenever you want to, it isn’t your room; it’s your cell’ back when we first met?”

“One hundred percent!”

“Well, we need to have another conversation like that, about Souba. Parallel blades of the exact same length are … ill-suited for capturing an opponent’s blade mid swing, even with your enhancements.

“ What you’d actually want is to have one blade be somewhere between a quarter to a half the length of the other; that would actually allow you to far more easily guide your opponent’s weapon into the gap between the two blades.” Sephiroth explained, hoping that he’d be able to keep this discussion limited solely to sword design and fighting techniques.

“Then… then… why would the doctors give me Souba? What is it good for?”

Better he give Kadaj an honest answer than to try and dance around the subject… Sephiroth might not be the ideal older brother, but he knew that hard truths given with compassion did more good than comforting lies ever would.

“Two parallel blades of the exact same length are the ideal weapon for inflicting injuries that are difficult to heal; tightly parallel cuts are challenging to stitch and inefficient to palliate with materia. It’s a sword that was made to maim.”  He paused, forcing his facial muscles to relax and hoping the resulting expression looked gentle.  “A sadist’s weapon.”

Kadaj looked down at his sword with a mixture of dismay and horror.

“I think… I think I need to find a new sword...” He eventually managed to half stammer out, looking like he was tempted to simply drop Souba on the floor then and there.

“If that’s what you think would make you more effective in combat, this might be the right place to go looking for one...”

XXX XXX XXX

“Souba, this isn’t your fault. I don’t want you to think that I hate you… because I don’t.”  The metal didn’t shriek as the file cut into it; the torch had left it too hot for more than a dull rasping sound.  The armorer raised an eyebrow, but was firmly inclined to let the quirks of strange, silver-haired men go otherwise unremarked.

“You’re not broken, it’s like… um… uhhh… cancer! Yeah, there’s a part of you that isn’t supposed to be there, that isn’t the real you,”  His client hadn’t said to stop, so the armorer continued his work, slowly sawing through the dully glowing section of the blade the strange young man held between two pairs of tongs.

“It’s just like when I met my big brother… the things he told me… they hurt, but those things didn’t ‘break me’ they made me who I was really supposed to be, gave me a chance to really be a hero. So now, now Souba you’re gonna get a chance to be what you should have been from the start….”  It was just as well, really.  It was too late to stop, but it was for the best.  The weirdass double sword was probably a liability in any serious fight - what was a weapon like that good for, anyway?

“Wait.”  The armorer didn’t realize at first that the young man was speaking to him.  “Wait… thank you, but I think I can take it from here.”

The blade was maybe half cut through.  “You sure, kid?  I know you SOLDIER types are strong, but…”  The strange young man hadn’t actually introduced himself as SOLDIER, but once you’d seen mako eyes, you could spot them again in a heartbeat.

“Yes.  I think this is something I need to finish myself.  Thank you.”  The young man started pivoting the tongs, the heated steel flexing in his grip, folding back over the cut, and finally, with a dull snap, the upper two thirds of the second blade broke off.

The youth gently set the broken section on the workbench, returned the tongs, and turned to leave, still talking to the rest of the sword.

“There, don’t you feel better now, Souba?” 

The armorer glanced at the snapped-off blade.  Shame to let it go to waste; nothing wrong with the steel itself…

XXX XXX XXX

“ Again!” Kadaj’s voice, determined and unfaltering.

The sound of metal impacting on metal.

Then there was another more high pitched metal on metal sound.

“Duck!”

The sound of something firm yet blunt contacting flesh.

A grunt of pain.

“Whoops.” Kadaj admitted awkwardly.

“It’s okay… just… need a moment… to catch my breath...” Wheezed the rebel who had been simply watching the sparring match one moment, and then when Kadaj had disarmed his opponent a bit too energetically had been knocked off his feet by a flying sword to the chest.

“Kadaj, that’s enough training against unenhanced opponents for one day.” Sephiroth called down before he went back to reviewing the state of Junon’s defenses.

Though for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Sephiroth felt his lips twitch in an upwards direction....

XXX XXX XXX

So, here Aerith was again.

Well maybe not, again again, but since she’d always considered her gardens in the Sector Five church a home away from home,but the scent of growing things among stone and steel gave even this new place a familiar feel.

There were differences, of course; the rebels had decided to set up their garden outside, giving them access to natural sunlight.  That meant that half of Aerith’s work was pretty much already done for her when she’d arrived.  Compared to the enervated soil and artificial light she was used to working with, this place was practically the Promised Land itself.

Not that she was complaining - if she was only going to have a day or two to work, it was nice not to have to start from scratch.

As she walked a careful circuit around the section of the fort designated to serve as a garden, Aerith drew in a deep breath and carefully, consciously emptied her mind.  Take this moment just to feel .  Her powers weren’t so trite as to work through her talking to the plants and either commanding or encouraging them to grow.  No, it was more like the plants would follow her example given half a chance.  She was here to be a silent friend, not a leader barking orders.

In short, things would probably go better if she was able to find something other than the process of cultivation to occupy her mind.

That would have been easier if everywhere she looked her mind didn’t keep seeing reasons to remind her of why she was doing this in the first place.  A part of her she wasn’t especially fond of couldn’t help but point out that each and every single person she saw was another stomach that needed to be kept fed.  It didn’t take her long at all to reach the disheartening conclusion that there was no way this garden could possibly provide enough food for all of them even if she made a full-time career of tending it.

When faced with an impossible task, Aerith once again strove to twist such depressing thoughts inside out.  She hadn’t been able to feed everyone in Sector Five, let alone everyone in Lower Midgar from her church, either… but that knowledge hadn’t stopped her from trying.  Elmyra had once told her ‘When the world is too big to change, make the difference you can make,’ that life was made up of small steps and half-measures - and that actions too small to touch the world could still mean the world to the people they touched..  

XXX XXX XXX

Sephiroth had quite clearly told Kadaj that he needed to stop training with unenhanced opponents. Luckily, unenhanced opponents weren’t the only people who Kadaj wanted to learn things from at Fort Condor.

“Why is it important I take my boots off though? If the point of training is to prepare you for a fight, I’m probably going to be wearing them if I get into a fight...” He couldn’t help but ponder as he glanced back at his discarded footwear.

“They were kind enough to lend us their training mat; least we can do is avoid getting it dirty.” Tifa answered. "Besides, nothing I'm teaching you today works differently with boots than without.” .

Like Kadaj, she’d forsaken her footwear before stepping out onto the dojo’s mat.

“To start things out, I’m going to throw you. Is that okay?” she asked, almost gently.

“Sure!”

“Great - don’t let me.”  The next thing Kadaj knew everything got very “spinny” for a few moments, then there was a “Thwump” and the world stopped rotating… but it had decided to stop while still upside down.

“Huh.”

“Alright, let’s unpack what happened there.”

“Well… you threw me.”

Tifa’s lip twitched, but she didn’t crack.  “Sure, but why was I able to throw you?  You’re bigger than me, stronger than me - what did I do to make it work?”

This sounded important.   Kadaj scowled in concentration, forced his mind to stop racing and focus on each moment.  “You… You got close, you grabbed my arm, and turned and… you forced my foot up off the ground?”

Now Tifa smiled.  “Yup!  No matter how strong you are, how fast you are - if you can’t brace, push off, pivot - you can’t use it.  To throw, break their footing.  To not be thrown, keep your footing.  That’s what we’re going to focus on first, alright?”

Kadaj nodded keenly, curled his back, and vaulted the ceiling back into the floor.

XXX XXX XXX

The training session actually went quite well in Tifa’s opinion. Kadaj might have a bad habit of adding unrequested flourishes to the techniques she was trying to teach him, but he was determined to learn, seemingly inexhaustible, and the thought, or even the act of picking up a few bruises along the way didn’t deter him in the slightest.

“So, do you think that I’d be able to beat Reno in a one on one fight next time we meet?”

It was a shame that he had trouble seeing the bigger picture.

“Well… I wouldn’t go throwing down your sword and challenging him to gentlemanly fisticuffs, if that’s what you’re asking.  For one, he doesn’t know the meaning of the word, and for another he’s been fighting dirty a lot longer than you’ve been fighting at all; one day of intense training isn’t going to make you a match for someone who has spent years doing this.”

Kadaj’s eyes drifted down towards the mat in regret but Tifa gave him a quick reassuring slap to the shoulder.

“Which doesn’t mean I wasn’t able to see some noticeable improvement. Besides, remember what we heard Tseng say? First of all the Turks are probably going to be too busy hunting down Cloud to pick fights with us any time soon… and secondly… right now Reno is on medical leave. The way things are going, if he ‘wins’ a few more fights against you then he’ll probably wind up in a wheelchair.” Tifa noted with a wry smirk.

Kadaj’s eyes flickered upward and slowly a satisfied smile started to spread across his face.

“Just like you said, part of every good fighting style is knowing how to play to your strengths… well my strength is that heroes don’t give up.” Kadaj insisted as he tried to brush the various impact creases left by their training session out of his outfit.

“You two are so awesome!” Another voice cut off Tifa’s reply.

Tifa and Kadaj both turned in its direction, they’d both been so caught up in the training session that neither of them had noticed they’d gained an audience.

He looks a few years older than Tifa, dressed in the gray combat fatigues and white bandana that seemed to pass for a uniform in Fort Condor.

“Sorry, my name is Arvel. Didn’t mean to startle you, but I didn’t want to interrupt. Watching two SOLDIERs fight… pretty sure I’m never gonna get a chance to see something like that again. Heh, not safely, anyway.”

Her veins still buzzing with adrenaline, Tifa took a few deep breaths and worked to remind herself that Fort Condor was full of people who’d pledged their lives to oppose Shinra; clearly she’d spent too long living in Midgar, it’d made her jumpy.

“Hey… do you think that you could teach me some of that?” Arvel asked.

"Sure, Tifa's a great teacher!" Kadaj volunteered, vacating the mat to make room for Tifa's new 'pupil.' 

Tifa shrugged, using the motion to mask a final deep, steadying breath.  This place was safe, for now - and this was a chance to help keep it that way.

“ Sure, we’ve all gotta start somewhere. I think I can at least teach you a few quick moves. Just keep your expectations realistic: these techniques will give you an edge in close quarters with line troops, but there’s nothing I can teach you in an afternoon that’ll let a normal human take on a SOLDIER unarmed. Your best bet, if you’re forced into melee, is to get them off their feet long enough to get some distance - or better yet, some backup.” Tifa advised.

Barret had once given a similar speech to Biggs, Jessie and Wedge, about how if they ran into SOLDIERs, they should try to disengage or lead them back to Tifa.

“Not sure when you started watching; let’s start the same way Kadaj and I did. You good with me throwing you?”

Arvel nodded eagerly as he began to remove his boots and joined Tifa on the mat.

“First time we do this I’m gonna go extra slow so that you can pay attention to everything that I’m doing.”  She warned him after taking up a position directly in front of her new student.

“It starts with a forward to close the gap.”  She moved so that her feet were positioned so that a single horizontal line could pass through hers and Arvel’s at the same time.

“Grab your opponent’s arm, and start to pull it upwards, you probably won’t be able to see it, but if you’re doing it right the leg opposite the arm you’ve grabbed will start to be lifted off the floor.  Then, to help them along you hook your leg around their closer one and break its connection with the floor.  Just make sure to unhook your leg afterwards so you don’t wind up losing your own footing as you finish the throw.”  She warned him.

No sooner had she finished her demonstration routine than Arvel shot her another wide smile.

“I think I got it, now can you show me how it’s actually supposed to work?”  He asked even while flat on his back.

So Tifa decided to give him a less restrained demonstration.

It was only after she’d just finished sweeping his leg and started sending him careening towards the mat that she suddenly remembered something that had slipped her mind after nearly an hour of training with Kadaj: normal human beings don’t naturally bounce .

/Oh shit!\

Arvel was headed towards the ground at a dangerous angle, and way too fast; at this point she had only bad options left and fractions of a section to choose and execute one.

She tightened her grip and pulled upward on the captive arm, trying to tune out the dull pop as the rest of Arvel kept falling - only for a moment, but a moment too long.

“Hrrrgh!”

She released the limp arm as Arvel crumpled to the mat with a soft thump - not the splat-crack she’d feared, but she doubted he was feeling too grateful, at the moment.

Arvel was curled up on the mat, squinting against the pain and whispering obscenities.  “I’m sorry, I- let’s get you to the infirmary.  You have an infirmary, right?”

“Cure! Cure!” Kadaj had been quick to retrieve Souba from where he’d placed it alongside his boots and started using the materia Tifa had bought for him.

“Kadaj, no- his shoulder’s dislocated.  Trying to heal it will just make it worse until it’s been set.  Just… Just get him to the infirmary.”  Tifa backed away. 

She needed to get away. Anywhere but here, even if just for a few minutes. Long enough to get her heart and breathing under control. Kadaj could handle it from here.  

 How could she feel so high on adrenaline and so bone weary at the same time?

End Chapter

AN: First let me apologize for how long this chapter took to get ready.  All I can say is that hopefully the next one will go quicker.

Moving on, the exact purpose of Souba’s somewhat unorthodox design is most likely a result of someone going “Sephiroth had one big blade, what if we give the new villain two small blades, as part of the same sword!”

That said, the comments Kadaj makes about it being used to trap a foe’s own weapon and disarm them come from the Final Fantasy Fandom Wiki on the topic of what the weapon is good for…. meanwhile Sephiroth’s response is mirror’s those of my editor who knows far more about swords than me. Thus we have Souba reforged into a new design that wasn’t created for the purpose of either looking impossibly cool or inflicting wounds that would be especially hard to heal…