Disclaimer- I don't any of the characters from FF7. I do own some of the characters in this fic. Hopefully you can tell the difference, and if you can't, well, thanks. I am trying desperately to prove that FF7 OCs can exist without being Mary Sues. I may fail, and if I do feel free to hack me up on the Mary Sues comm on LJ. I step into this experiment knowing full well I may fail. And please excuse the unoriginal title. Same old same old: it was late and I was tired.

Second Coming

By A Guy Named Goo

Chapter One: The New Regime

Although on one side of the glass utter pandemonium was breaking out, on the other side was nothing but stony silence, an uneasy silence that filled the already too-small, too-hot, and too-tense area of the observation room. Five figures in identical dark blue suits lined up before the long window, which started at more or less their hips and extended up past the head of even the tallest one, and was just wide enough for all of them to stand side-by-side and get a view of the chaos that was ensuing before them, eyes reflecting varying degrees of shock, horror, dismay, and discontent as they watched the brutallity that was befalling one of their own, their faces otherwise the stony and impassive masks that they had been trained to adopt for the frontlines.

Another splatter of blood, this time striking the window that separated the sanity from the insanity. The young man in front of that part of the glass turned pale, and he took a step back for a moment. The only woman on that side of the glass looked at the boy for a moment, then at the smear on the glass. Blood in and of itself was nothing to alarm these violent people, but as it slid down the glass pane the woman could see what had upset him: as the components separated, the clear plasma was glowing mako green. making the stain radiate an alien luminesence.

The others had also turned their eyes toward the rookie, and under their scrutiny he finally straightened, took a deep breath, and took his place once more, twisting around to try to see past the stain without bumping into one of his superiors. The veteran turned her single eye back to the scene going on before them, and the others followed suit. She wanted to tell the boy he was dismissed, but she knew she couldn't. They were here under orders; the horrors inside were an example for them all, and even the rookie understood that.

Still, being forced to witness a birth shouldn't have been as horrific as it was. Having had two sons of her own (the youngest of which was the same age as the new recruit, a fact that never escaped the old veteran's mind), she knew that childbirth was a horribly painful ordeal, but not as...messy as it was right now. If it weren't for the significance of this particular birth, she would have been sure they were making it worse on purpose, slicing and dicing as they pleased. But there was a sense of urgency that even trailed into the silence of the soundproof room. They seemed to be genuinely determined to preserve the life of the woman.

Someone ran to grab some piece of equipment, accidentally turning on the speaker between in the soundproof room. A loud tone sounded through, the sound of a monitor registering no heartbeat. Urgent voices were coming through:

"She's bleeding over here!"

"We've got a pumper over here, give me that damn clamp!"

"Still asystole..."

"Charge the paddles to three-fifty!"

"He's out!"

With that last proclamation, a blanket was handed to one of the masked surgeons. A bundle was wrapped and whisked out of the room to be attended to, while the surgeons continued their attempts to save the woman's life. A new tone sounded, rising in intination as the paddles charged.

"Clear!" the surgeon holding them yelled, and all the hands fled from the lifeless body. The "thump" of her body jerking up with electricity, and still the tone from the monitor didn't stop. "Again! Clear!" The paddles barely had time to charge, and the futile exercise was repeated.

"Doctor, still asystole..." the masked woman near the monitor said. "Are you going to call it?"

"The president said to do what we can to keep her alive, dammit! Clear!"

Another shock, still nothing.

"Doctor, you did do all you could. She's gone."

A few of the suits on the other side of the glass shifted, their impassive masks threatening to fade for a moment. The veteran turned toward the rookie and gestured with her head for him to approach. He stopped trying to get a good view and answered her silent order. She took a step back, forced him into her spot, and then walked over to take his. This was a horrible thing for someone who had never even seen a mission to behold without having to stare at that blood. From her days in SOLDIER, the veteran knew what mako-infused blood looked like when it was spilled. She could be strong and stare at it.

Suddenly, the tone of the monitor was gone. The paddles were silent. There was nothing but silence for a few moments. The surgeon sighed, then looked up at the clock. "Record this. Time of death: 4:54 Midgar Standard Time." A man standing off to the side, wearing scrubs and holding a blood splattered clipboard, did as he was told, recording the time of death.

The veteran's eye swept over the other four Turks again. All four were silent, still, and although they were hiding it well, shaken to their very souls. With a humorless smile, she realized that the president's idea of an example had worked: they would obey their orders and never betray any information.

"Call transport and have them bring her down to the furnace for cremation ASAP," the doctor ordered, still not taking off his mask.

"What?! Why?!" the female assistant cried, voicing what the Turks couldn't.

The doctor sighed, pulling out tubes and clamps from the body. "Records say the last mother died in childbirth and then lived on as a revenant. We don't want another wraith wandering around. Besides, that's the president's orders." He lifted the sheet up, and only a bit of her blonde hair stuck out from one end, her feet sticking out from the other. He stepped out of the room, and the others looked at one another before attending to their assigned tasks.

And like someone had flipped a switch, the other five Turks were suddenly animated. Tseng sighed and looked at the floor, muttering under his breath "I guess Elena won't be talking anymore." Zanya, the veteran, would have commented on the insensitivity if his voice hadn't sounded so broken. Although he had no particular attachment toward the talkative woman, she had been assigned with him so many times he was as close to her as he would ever get to another person.

"So that's it? You're just going to...leave now?" Kaji, the young Wutaian who had taken Elena's place after she got "reassigned" cried in outrage. Well, at least he wasn't showing indifference or disregard for the woman who had given her life for his position, Zanya thought. Although being so young and having never seen a war, she almost wish he had some degree of the seeming indifference the others had to prove himself worthy of a job with the Turks.

"Now...we're going downstairs to the bar," Reno said. He'd leaned against the wall after the doctor had called Elena's time of death, hands in his pockets and eyes on the floor. Of all of the Turks, Zanya had a feeling he was the one most affected by what had just taken place.

Rude nodded, reaching up to readjust his sunglasses. He was stolid as always, his reaction to what had happened unreadable. "Sounds good," he said, turning to face the exit with the rest of the Turks. Rude, along with Zanya, had been present to speak on Elena's behalf when she was first brought before the disciplinary board for supposedly leaking information to a resistance group. Although he hadn't said much, Rude had tried his best to defend his comrade in arms. It had been mostly in vain: the board had ruled that she would be given to the science department for the Neo-Jenova Project. "If she lives, she's free," the board chairman had ruled. "But if she doesn't, she'll have met the punishment she deserves as a traitor to our organization." The look in Elena's eyes had said she would rather the chairman taken out a gun and shot her on the spot. And then, for nine months, the woman had disappeared to be replaced with Kaji. This was the first they had seen of her in nine months, and the last they would ever see of her.

The door to the room opened, and a man in a blue Shinra military uniform stood on the other side. "President said you're all free to go. Tell anyone what you saw and what you know, and you're all going to be gifts to the science department," he said gruffly, with a twist of a smile on his lips. Zanya wondered if he understood the words he was parroting. He certain seemed to understand the underlying threat, at any rate. She glared at him, her single green eye glowing dimly. He shrunk back from the woman, then turned to leave entirely.

Zanya clapped her hand on Kaji's shoulder. "It's about all we can do right now," she said calmly. "What you saw today was a tragedy. If you don't want to see another, I suggest you get reassigned. The new regime isn't anything like the last two." Brief as they were. Tseng snorted at the mention of the word "regime" in relation to Shinra's power, but he didn't argue. Why argue with someone you agree with?

Kaji tried to look back into the room, at the blood-splattered window, but Zanya guided him out of the room...just in time for him to see Elena's body being taken out of the room on gurney, the sheet over her clinging to her body with damp red splotches.

"God, I really need a drink," Reno said, sounding like he was going to be sick. He turned and pointedly walked away, not looking back once. The others followed his example without further discussion.

ooooooooooo

Dawn's first rays fell harshly on the sleeping figure of Cloud Strife, after a long night of tossing and turning in his fevered nightmares within the Kalm Inn. Sweating profusely, he shot up in his bed, glowing blue eyes wild and unfocused for a moment. He looked around at his surroundings, confused for a moment as to where he was. Who he was. His skin was crawling, and for the first time in a long time he thought he felt the alien virus slithering through his veins like a foreign invader. He clawed at the invisible bugs that raced up and down his arms futily, and his entire body felt like a traitor to him.

His heart rate slowed. The sensation that his skin was crawling subsided, and the fever that had gripped his body for too long broke. For the first time in months, comprehension and intelligence could be seen in his eyes rather than feral madness. His mind and body were his own again, for the time being.

The room was locked. No one had known what else to do with the derranged young man who crawled to town one day, babbling incoherantly about meteors and mako and lifestream. The doctor had said there was nothing they could do. If he had been in the city of Midgar they could have institutionalized him, but without those facilities they had to make due with what they had. To keep him from being a risk to himself or others the docto had kept him heavily sedated most of the time. He'd almost immediately spiked a fever, and all traces of humanity had drained from his glowing eyes.

And now, just three months shy of a year, the nightmare was over. The routine was still sharp in the blonde's mind, even if the ordeal itself was mercifully fading. He tried to grasp some of the jumbled thoughts and nightmares to hopefully piece together the meaning behind his sudden, horrifying illness, but like a hurricaine it seemed to be blowing away, leaving nothing but the destruction in it's wake.

The sheets were soaked with the sweat from his fever, and leaning forward slightly Cloud seized the blanket that was draped losely over him, wrapping himself securely in it to fight the sudden chill. It was winter. His last coherant memory was of springtime, of wandering against the wishes of his new friends, of the swift construction of a new Shinra building and suddenly being struck with the futility of his entire mission. He'd left ostensibly to find a more permenant solution to the problem that Shinra posed, but in actuality he hadn't had a clue where he was going. He just wasn't sure what he'd do if he stayed in Midgar with Tifa, as she'd asked him to. Ever since the final confrontation, the realization of what had been done to him, he hadn't trusted himself in any way around anyone. He was just glad when his suspicions were confirmed and he finally snapped, he was locked away from the public where he couldn't hurt anyone.

The door opened, and the town doctor was creeping in slowly, expecting to have to fight the young man into drinking down the bitter tranquilizer. Into eating and drinking and other neccessities of life. Sensing things seemed different now, he looked up at Cloud, into his eyes. When he saw comprehension there, he started, then cleared his throat. If the boy was recovered, then maybe he could communicate with his patient at last.

"Sir, do you know where you are?" he asked slowly, placing the blue bottle on a table and taking a small flashlight from the pocket of his jacket.

Cloud looked around. He was sure any answer would have confirmed his return to sanity, but he wanted to make sure he had the place right to further affirm his coherancy. "The inn at Kalm, right?"

Such an accurate answer seemed to be a pleasant surprise to the doctor, who shined the light in Cloud's eyes, checking his pupils. "Yes, that's right. You've been here for nine months. Do you remember anything else? What's your name?"

"Cloud," he said simply, following the doctor's finger with his eyes without having to recieve the order. "I...went crazy."

The doctor nodded and looked down sadly, taking Cloud's wrist between his thumb and index finger and looking at his watch. When he was done, he seemed satisfied with the result. "Mako poisoning, we believe," he said. "We never thought you'd recover from it. If you were still here after a year we were going to call Shinra to come and place you in an asylum. This place isn't equipped to handle cases such as yours, you understand. The only reason you weren't moved was I asked that you be kept here for a while. So what happened? Reactor explosion? Fall into a mako well? After the Crisis a lot of them opened."

So that's what it was called now. Cloud honestly didn't know what happened, but rather than sending the doctor in search of answers, he nodded once, pulling the blanket further up his bare chest. "Yeah. Fell in a mako well. Thought if I dragged myself to a town I could get some help before the poisoning got bad." It was a bad lie, but the doctor seemed willing to buy it. Maybe he thought the falter in his voice came from months of dementia and near catatonia.

"I'm afraid I can't fix some of the effects," the doctor said grimly. "You'll always have that glow to your eyes, and you may still be prone to blackouts or fits of dementia or aggression. I can't guarantee that this lucidity will last. My advice is as soon as you're fit to travel again, go to Midgar. They have facilities for treating mako poisonings there. Maybe they can help."

Cloud sighed. One part of the doctor's statement was accurate, and a very real fear for him: he didn't know if this lucidity would last. How long until he slipped back into insanity? Maybe if he could find out what had caused it the first time...was Midgar the answer? Could it have something to do with the new Shinra Corporation that had risen from the ashes of the old one? Did he want to start in Midgar? He didn't really have any other starting points...

"I'll do that," he said, softly, sincerely. Mostly to the advice to go to Midgar, not to the treatment.

The doctor nodded and turned to leave. "Your clothes are in the chest at the foot of your bed. Your weapon was checked at the front desk when you got here. When you go to leave, please come and see me for a final check-up." The doctor suddenly chuckled a bit. "If you run into anyone on the road, you can just tell them you're with SOLDIER."

Cloud flinched, but the doctor was gone without noticing it. Did SOLDIER still exist? Were the recruits still treated like they were when he'd joined? Did it matter? Sighing, he got up and slowly began to get his life back together, preparing to return to Midgar...

ooooooooooo

Zanya was an "old-timer", a relic of Shinra past. She'd seen four presidents come to power in her day (including the current), but this was nothing as the power in Shinra had shifted three times in the past two years. But most couldn't remember President Adalai Shinra, who had been the company leader when she'd gotten involved with the company.

A Midgar native, stories said that Zanya had once been the "jewel of the slums", a lovely and smart girl that everyone was certain would run a business, get married, and raise a family. No one dreamed of her entertaining thoughts of joining the military until she turned sixteen and announced she was joining the army. Friends and family had discouraged her, saying the military was no place for a pretty young girl. But her mind was made up.

Zanya rose the ranks to SOLDIER First Class in short order, one of the first women to ever do so. She gained notoriety in the war in Wutai, where she lost her right eye. In her service in SOLDIER she'd gained more scars, her face marred by them as well as her hardened, battle-weary expression. The jewel of the slums was now a rather homely sight. Before her looks were gone for good, she'd had two sons, both of which the fathers of were unknown (although it is known she got pregnant both times while serving with SOLDIER, causing rumors of her being less than a virtuous woman with the men in her unit).

Finally, when age and a back injury meant she would have to retire from SOLDIER, Zanya had demanded that she have a position elsewhere in the company's elite military, and had been recommended to the Turks. "It's light work, all in all," her commanding officer had explained. "She's a born leader and a sharpshooter. Let the young ones do the more labor intensive stuff." So she had been transferred to the Turks.

Now Zanya stood in the president's quarters for the first time in years, in her tidy dark blue suit. Her long, graying black hair was plaited down her back, and her single glowing green eye was fixed on the chair that was turned away from her in the center of the room. She had never met President Amunet Shinra, who rumor had it was probably a distant relative of the Shinra dynasty at best and most likely usurper to the "throne". This was odd, because Zanya couldn't remember anyone saying they had seen the new president face to face. Even though he wasn't in the president's position long, Zanya had at least seen President Rufus Shinra.

And technically, she wasn't seeing him now. He seemed to pointedly be sitting back-to her. His voice was oddly soft when he spoke, but still as piercing as a knife. "Zanya Whitelight...you really are an impressive creature. When I was looking for someone to fill two very different positions, your name came up both times. It seems you're quite versitile."

Zanya bristled at the casual use of her little-known family name, but gave the proper response to a compliment from the president. "Thank you, sir."

A cigar seemed to appear out of no where, the hand holding it barely visible in the darkened office. "You and the other Turks in your division were witnesses to a certain event this morning. I'm certain I don't need to explain it to you: you were also present at the court martial and setancing of your colleague."

"Neo-Jenova Project, sir," Zanya all but muttered. She was certain that the devestating failure of the first project meant nothing but bad things for the second, and just hoped she was dead and in the ground when it decided to blow up in their faces, probably literally.

The cigar disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared. "I want to get you involved, Whitelight. I am certain you could be a key in keeping the failures of the last Jenova Project from repeating themselves."

Zanya's eye widened. "Me? Why me? I'm not a scientist."

"It's not more scientists we're looking for," President Shinra assured her. "For one, we need body guards. We wanted to get the Turks in on it, and naturally your name came up. No matter who we assign to assist you, you'll be able to keep them in line, I'm certain. So you have that job. But for the other, it's the more personal details of your life that we focused on."

She hardly had time to register the reassignment (promotion?) when she realized what the president has said. "Personal details, sir?"

"You're a mother," he said plainly. "And a good one, if the rumors are true. People describe you as patient and nurturing, but at the same time firm and strict. A good leader and a good maternal figure. We got this information from soldiers who served with and under you, as well as from your sons."

Zanya had to say, she was rather flattered. It'd been a while since she'd seen her sons: the eldest was one of the highest ranking officers at the Junon base, and the youngest was currently climbing the ranks in the army with his ultimate goal being to join the Turks (and bypass SOLDIER, unlike his mother). The young Turk-in-the-making was another reason she wanted to make sure nothing happened to Kaji.

"That's a...kind thing to say, sir," Zanya said, still confused as to what this had to do with anyhing. Her abilities as a mother seldom played any role in his military life.

The cigar disappeared again, and this time didn't reappear for a few moments. "Our records state that part of Sephiroth's psychological conditioning may have come from him being raised in a harsh, military-driven environment. He had no parents that he knew of, and no one showed him any affection. Aside from being mislead about his true nature, of course. We were hoping this time around the mother could be spared, but sadly she is gone. We need a mother for the next incarnation. Although he's powerful, we have engineered in him a physical weakness. He is a test. If the nurturing environment produces the results we're hoping for, we'll try for another Sephiroth. Aside from the value of the Ancients on the whole, his military expertise was invaluable."

"Wait..." Zanya interrupted, apparently forgetting she was speaking to the president. "You want me to be that child's mother?"

President Shinra apparently forgave the momentary transgression. "Adoptive mother, yes. Aside from protecting him physically, we believe you have what it takes to nurture him emotionally. Our research seems to agree."

Zanya closed her eye. She didn't want anything to do with this project at all. When it blew up in their face, she didn't want her good name attached to it. But on the other hand, some small part of her missed her days of motherhood, of raising her sons. Although a seasoned warrior who was jaded beyond redemption, the woman in her still couldn't bear the thought of a child being raised without a mother, especially when she had the chance to remedy that injustice. And maybe they were right: a little affection could be what kept the project from backfiring this time around.

"I'll do it, sir," Zanya said with a nod.

"It wasn't a request, Whitelight. It was an order. But I am glad you are on board. I'd hate to have to discipline a SOLDIER as decorated as you are," President Shinra said. "You're dismissed. Someone will be by your apartment later to escort you to where the child will be raised. Please have the things you want to take with you ready."

Zanya nodded, bowed slightly (although the president couldn't see it), and then left the dark office. What was she getting herself into?

ooooooooooo

Cloud stood outside the city of Midgar for a moment, apprehensive about completing his journey. On the one hand, it was really the only starting point he had. On the other hand, if he was unstable he couldn't become a risk to his friends once more. Sighing, he stared at the entrance to Sector One for a moment, the urban grunge killing the grass for miles before reaching the actual city.

Although Sector Seven had been mostly rebuilt, Midgar was currently functioning with only four reactors. The two that AVALANCHE had destroyed were still gone, as well as two others that had been torn down in the wake of the Crisis, a last-ditch effort to save the planet by other resistance groups. The huge monolith of the Shinra Headquarters had been the first to be rebuilt, and Sector Seven followed soon after. Mako electricity was now twice as expensive to make up for the reconstruction as well as the fact that half the reactors were missing, but the metallic skeletons of new reactors stretched into the sky.

Those who don't learn from history... Cloud thought bitterly, leaving the common phrase unfinished. Steeling himself, he took the last step under the plate, bidding a silent farewell to sunlight as he entered the dark, forboding, and too-familiar slums of lower Midgar...

End of Chapter One