Disclaimer: Orenji doesn't own Final Fantasy VII or any of its contents.

A/n: Welcome to FFVII: Lightly Condensed! I want to say here and now before you get tired of reading the author's note: there are a lot of mistakes in here. I've never beaten Final Fantasy VII or Dirge of Cerberus (although I've come close to. I've just been to lazy to get Omnislash or Death Penalty :p), and I've only watched Advent Children once. I've already noticed tons of inaccuracies, but I just don't want to change the entire plot in order to fix them. Most are trivial, like the fact that Midgar is inhabited again and that Tifa and Cloud run a bar in Sector 8. However, the setting moves far away from here very soon, and won't come back to that one simple thing. If it makes you happy, assume that in the time between DoC and here, Midgar has been rebuilt, and that Cloud failed terribly in the delivery business, so he and Tifa went back to serving cold ones to slum puppies. Bit it could have already happened at the end of DoC… I wouldn't know, but I think that it's unlikely.

Well, at least I hope that it doesn't turn you away from reading :D

Also, don't give away the ending to FFVII or DoC, ok? I still want to find out on my own and have gone through a lot of trouble to avoid accidentally figuring them out! Hehe, so enjoy Lightly Condensed…

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1:00

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The day our fourth nightmare began was very different right from the beginning. I woke up that morning from the burning rays of the sun thrown suddenly on my face from the single window in our bedroom. I blinked a few times as my eyes adjusted to the dazzling whiteness of the morning, and distinguished the first clue as to something not being right.

"Cloud?"

He stood by the window, his clenched fist still tightly enclosed upon the curtain's drawstring. Alarm radiated from his rigid body. His glowing azure eyes watched out the transom as though waiting for something horribly grim to occur out on the dirty streets of Sector 8.

"What's wrong?" I asked, swinging my feet over the edge of my bed. Suddenly, a feeling of nausea swept over me.

"Can't you feel it?" he asked, letting go of the string, but holding his stare. I nodded slowly. The feeling was slow, thick, and sticky like the sort of syrup I poured over Denzel and Marlene's pancakes every Sunday morning. As my senses sharpened further, I noticed the murky smell in the air. My head began to ache.

Slowly, for it seemed I had no choice but to move slowly, I rose to my feet and went to meet Cloud at the window.

"Yes," I said, and followed his gaze outside. Nothing in sight was different. Everything was still just as broken and soiled as it was yesterday. I was still just a slum, just barely revived after many unoccupied years. The streets were still empty so early in the morning. Nothing seemed changed, but something was. I stole a glance back at Cloud. His expression was terrifying. What had lately been a face of peace had, in just a matter of moments, turned into something twisted and frightful. He watched the dawn with menace. I walked towards the door stiffly. Many times I had gone through this routine. Something was defiantly happening, and there no doubt that Cloud, myself, and quite possibly the rest of the old crowd would get involved.

"I'll call Barret," I said.

Because there's no such thing as eternal peace.

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"It's nice seeing you again, Tifa. Where's Marlene?" Barret had walked into Seventh Heaven only five minutes ago, and he was already near finished with a large tankard of out finest brew. Dark purplish circles had formed under his eyes since the last time I'd seen him, but otherwise he was the same old Barret.

"Still asleep, but she should be waking up soon."

Cloud was standing outside, chatting on his phone. I watched him closely through the glass in the front door. His lips barely moved at all which meant that whoever was on the other line was doing most of the talking. Therefore, it was ether Yuffie or Reeves. In spite of everything that seemed to be starting and the looming dread that was beginning to hang over Midgar like a gauzy curtain, I smiled. It had been a long time since Cloud had spoken to any of the others, with the exception of Barret. He stopped in whenever he could to see Marlene.

I moved out from behind the bar and sat with Barret at his table. The only noise came from his gunarm as he shifted gears on it nervously, creating a loud clicking sound. I wished he would stop. Finally, after a few additional tense minutes, Cloud stepped back inside and fell dejected into a chair.

"That was Reeves," he said, "None of this has to do with any Turks, or ex-Shinra members. Deepground doesn't seem to be involved ether."

"Now hold on a minute, spiky!" Barret exclaimed, slamming his tankard against my table forcibly, "We don't even know what exactly is going on, and you're already tryin' to track down suspects?"

Cloud shrugged in his usual manner, "What else is there to do?"

Barret didn't reply and instead drained the rest of his beer irritably. I quickly took the empty tankard to the sink so it wouldn't look like I was just sitting there. "So how does Reeves know it doesn't have anything to do with those guys?" I asked after a few moments.

"He's been keeping tabs," Cloud replied quietly, "using Cait Sith."

"I see. That poor stuffed cat…" I smiled lightly. A couple of minutes later, Denzel came stumbling down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"Hi, Barret," he said groggily, spotting the dark hulking form in the corner, "Marlene's coming down soon too."

Barret only grunted, staring hazily at the table's battered surface.

"Tifa, did you burn something in the oven?" Denzel asked, plopping down in his favorite stool at the bar. I looked back over my shoulder at him from where I stood at the sink a shook my head. He only looked additionally baffled, but didn't question any further. Marlene then introduced herself with a loud yawn from the staircase. This time Barret looked up, and his depressed face broke into a wide grin.

"How's my girl?" he said as she rushed into his open arms, her eyes still half-blurred with sleep. I saw Cloud smile, if only just a little at the two, and to be honest I couldn't help but smirk as well. They really didn't match at all.

"Fine daddy… but… what's going on? Something isn't right…" Marlene wiggled herself free from Barret's grasp and squinted at the air. Her gaze landed on Cloud, and she tilted her head in confusion when she saw his new, troubled expression.

"Are you feeling ok, Cloud?"

He shrugged his shoulders, looking away as everyone turned to stare in his direction.

"I feel fine," he muttered shortly.

Marlene relaxed a little then, seemingly deciding that whatever appeared to be wrong was only in her imagination. Denzel on the other hand, tensed further. He kept his stare glued on Cloud with worried eyes. Never before had he seen his guardian act so… different. It scared him, and forced him to raise his guard.

I sighed, and asked him if he wanted some fried eggs.

"No, I'm not hungry," he said, sliding off his seat and heading back towards the stairs, "I think I'll go back to my room. Thanks anyway, Tifa." I nodded and watched him disappear. Marlene and Barret followed shortly afterwards as she chattered away about a painting she'd done the other day and wanted to show him. Only Cloud and I were left.

I scooted out from behind the counter and sat in the chair across from him. He pretended not to notice and continued to stare out the window. Casually, I followed his gaze.

It was still early out, but the streets were no longer completely barren. A few weary souls had dragged themselves out of their homes to set up shop, or to stock up on food and supplies. No face held a hint that it cared even a bit for what was in the air. I had a feeling that they only thought it was some new kind of pollution. We watched these oblivious people for what seemed like hours, and then a man broke away from the sparse crowds. He was dressed in a deep green robe with a hood that covered his entire face in shadow. He walked right in through the front door. I stood automatically; Cloud's eyes tapered with suspicion.

"Can I help you?" I asked, my voice unnaturally cold. Anyone coming into a bar wearing such getup could be in no way good news. He stood still in the doorway for a moment, head turned in out general direction. Finally, he began to approach with a long, even stride. He walked straight past me and stood before Cloud. He was holding something between his fingertips; I could tell. My own fist clenched tightly behind my back.

"Cloud Strife?" he asked. His voice was strange. It was like at the moment of his words, he was being held at the throat by an invisible hand, and underneath that, the voice was deep and irregular. It sent a mysterious wave of chills through my chest and down my spine.

Cloud glared into the depths of the voice's hood, but it couldn't have been much use. The shadows were before him, for the only light in the room lay behind. Slowly, Cloud nodded.

"Who's asking?"

The voice did not say anything back. Instead, he raised his hand as though preparing to strike, and slammed his palm onto the surface of my table dramatically. The light flickered. A single slip of paper, just large enough to fit one or two sentences on, lay where the voice had put it. Both Cloud and I stared at it in confusion and in curiosity. Then, the hooded voice turned and left, leaving total silence in his wake. Besides the tiny paper evidence left flat on my wooden bar table, it was as though he had never even entered to begin with.

Cloud and I exhaled and simultaneously reached for the note.

At that moment, we weren't exactly sure what to expect.

At that moment, we didn't know that, that single tiny slip of paper would send us spiraling into yet another long and dangerous journey.

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