The horror twisted in his stomach like an oncoming sickness as he analyzed the data again. Again. Again and again with a hope that it was wrong, that some fatal experimental flaw would render this discovery invalid.
No such mistake revealed itself. Jenova was not an Ancient. He had no idea what she was, but she wasn't an Ancient.
His career's most promising moment...The Jenova Project...
Breaking the news did not go as Gast had feared it would. Whether the reality was better or worse, he could not yet decide.
"'Not an Ancient', you say?" President Shinra echoed in a condescendingly inquisitive tone, lifting a pair of bushy yellow eyebrows.
Admitting that his pet project was based entirely on an incorrect assumption was embarrassing enough for Gast, even without the expression on the president's face and the small, unsympathetic audience of executives. And his subordinate Hojo, to boot.
"That is what I said, yes." Gast made an effort to keep his voice even and polite. "I wish to discontinue the project."
"On what basis are you making your wild claims? Such a sudden turnaround." Hojo's voice, slipping in from behind him, was as cold as ever...calculating, and Gast wasn't sure he had the patience for it right now. Still, he kept a cool head, refusing to rise to the bait. Communicating his discoveries and their implications was more important than an ongoing personality clash. He was a professional.
"I've been running tests on Jenova herself...exploring further, digging deeper, and she's...something different. I don't know what, but I don't think she's actually an Ancient," Gast said firmly.
"So you're basing this overdramatic plug-pulling on what you 'think'? You wish to scrap the project you yourself piloted, all because of a hunch?" Hojo sneered, the mockery was a little more direct this time. Before Gast could counter, the president spoke again.
"You are a brilliant man, Professor. Our best scientist," (a bristle from Hojo), "maybe the best in the world, but...you're tired. You're making leaps and trying to sabotage yourself, and our golden egg of a project by extension." The president's words, once again, struck Gast as being incredibly condescending. "Take a vacation. Come back fresh and forget about this 'Jenova is not an Ancient' business. I'll give you a raise if that is what this is really about."
Gast felt a spike of genuine annoyance flare in him. "This is not about money, and I'm not 'just tired'. If Jenova isn't an Ancient, then we're injecting some other foreign body we don't understand into living beings." Into a child.
"We didn't understand Jenova initially, either, and it did not stop you then," Hojo commented, once again cutting in despite being the lowest ranked individual in the room. Gast supposed he might be enjoying this a little.
"We obviously don't understand her now, either. The Jenova Project is about researching the Ancients. If we find further proof that she is, in fact, not an Ancient, the project has nowhere to go."
President Shinra's chuckle was, once again, not the reaction Gast expected.
"Gast, Gast...So idealistic for such a brilliant scientist. This is not about discovery for discovery's sake. This is not about words to fill your journals and leave behind for generations to come. This is about the harnessing of something great that will lead us powerfully into the future. This is about discovering limits only to push them further by seeing just where young Sephiroth will take us. If he is average or subaverage, we will call it a failure, but if he is as extraordinary as he already seems...it would be idiotic to call it off."
Gast's brows were knitted together; he comprehended exactly what the president was saying, yet found himself somewhat confused all the same. Like a sudden slap to the face, he was taken off guard, wondering when exactly this distinction was made... The unborn Sephiroth was injected to bring back the Ancients, to create a new lineage for them to study...
But the faces around him were telling a different story. Feeling like a man insulted in his own home, Gast was being patronizingly scolded about being foolishly 'idealistic' regarding his own project. Maybe he was foolish. Maybe trusting these people with his work had been foolish.
"I'm taking my research and leaving. This will stop here," Gast stated, his voice firm, matter-of-fact, and suggesting no room for argument.
The unspoken suggestion was blatantly ignored.
"No, you aren't," the president countered swiftly and confidently, that irritating smile still plastered on his face. "Research conducted under Shinra is property of the company. You have no individual right to call any of it your own."
Holding President Shinra's gaze with an unwavering glare, Gast had to mentally concede to the fact that it was true, terrible as that might be. He knew it from the start, but he had never expected to leave the company before he was ready to retire. Perhaps as a younger man, he hadn't quite known what he was getting himself into.
How perspectives change...
One thing he was certain of was the executives' rock-solid resolve to continue The Jenova Project. There was nothing more he could do here.
A cardboard box sat on Gast's desk, slowly filling with the most important of his possessions, gathered from his Shinra lab office. Slipping his preliminary research inside the box with a stony face - it was a mix of pre-Jenova and relevant Jenova data to continue examining - Gast found that he couldn't feel guilty about it. If they were going to continue despite his warnings, he couldn't be a part of it. He would start anew somewhere else, somewhere far away from Midgar, nearer to that curious, curious crater...
He would never give up his quest to understand the Ancients, even if he had to tackle it alone. As he slipped out of the Shinra building, the scientist gazed up at its light against the night sky. To the company, to Sephiroth, maybe just to the wind, he said, "I'm so sorry."