Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VII or any characters in this fanfiction.
TO THE NORTH
Malin stumbles deeper into the frozen woodlands, abandoning thoughts of caution as he tries to escape the approaching storm. Breaths coming out in pants as he pushes himself to his limits, Malin continues to fight against the bitter cold and the creeping exhaustion pulling at the edges of his mind. As he pushes his way through stubborn shrubbery, he can't help but curse his luck. Nevertheless, he forces himself to stumble the last few steps to the entrance of the cave he rested in 2 nights ago. Gasping in relief, he doesn't notice the unstable ground until, with only a slight shift of the snow for warning, he is falling. Mouth open in a silent scream and arms outstretched, he continues to fall.
…
As Malin groans and opens his eyes, he lays still for a moment before lurching up with a start. Though he is not a warrior, he can still sense something in the air. An uneasiness. Shifting to his knees, he crawls slowly forward until he can see clearly to the other side of the cavern.
It is breathtaking. For the longest moment, there is disbelief, then awe, and finally reverence, as Malin lays his eyes upon the pillar before him. The ethereal spirit – for such beauty cannot possibly belong on any human appearance – frozen in the ice pillar is stunning. For Malin, who has come to this distant and desolate region of the world in search of wealth and glory to satisfy his greed, this being's appearance is akin to sunlight after so long in the darkness. He remembers all at once his memories of happiness and love. A time when he had no worries and the only thought in his mind was of adventure; remembrance of days spent swinging in trees and swimming in the rivers of his hometown. Drawn from his thoughts by the sound of falling water. Even before he hesitantly brings his hand to his face, he feels the warmth from the tears cascading from his eyes. Drawing in a shaky breath, he stands on equally shaky legs and steps forward. Malin's arm is already outstretched in a plea, even without knowing what he is asking for. But as he steps forward once more, his head turns in surprise to the flash of silver he sees in the corner of his eye. Then the last thing he sees is red, red, red, before everything goes black.
Change POV
There is only the smallest of sounds as the sword is re-sheathed, and the killer passes by the beheaded man. With a soft thump, the head falls upon the ground, where it is ruthlessly kicked to the side. Approaching with steady steps and overflowing confidence, the killer stops before the frozen spirit and reaches out. In contrast with the previous harsh action, the hand is gentle and loving where it caresses the ice prison, and the ever-present air of indifference is replaced with warmth and happiness. For a while there is only silence, a sense of tranquility taking over. Then a whisper of Brother, resonates through the cavern, intent and desperate.
EDGE
The resounding sounds of doors slamming open and pounding feet echoes through the silent hallway into the large office at the end of the hall. As the messenger skids to a stop in front of the door, he takes only a moment to regain his breath before slamming the door open as well. In an attempt to display the urgency of the situation, he shouts out, "President Shinra-!" before he is interrupted by an angry voice.
"Get out."
The messenger is frozen in shock for a moment as he attempts to regain his breath and force his mind to catch up. The cold voice, dangerously smooth with suppressed anger, sends shivers down his spine. "W-what?" is the only thing the messenger is able to stutter out before he is interrupted yet again.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Do you have any idea whose time you are wasting?! All information is to be reported to the Turks. My time is expensive, and I do not need incompetent grunts like you bursting your way into my office. Now leave!"
The shadows from the curtains of a large window paint a menacing picture to the frightened messenger, who is unable to even see the man he is attempting to address. As the President sits up in his chair and leans forward in anger, the messenger blurts out, "B-but sir! I was instructed to bring this information to you directly. A red-haired man grabbed me on my way up and told me that you were expecting this file right away!" Thrusting the file in front of him with panicked urgency, he dares not look up into piercing blue eyes.
Seemingly in surprise, the seated man leans back and after a moment, grudgingly replies, "…Very well. Hand it over and leave. And if you see Reno again, tell him to report to me at once."
Flinching in surprise over the sudden change in character, the messenger doesn't think before speaking. "W-who sir?"
To no one's surprise, this leads to another eruption of ire, with angry shouting following behind the retreating man. "The red-haired man you imbecile!" are the last words the messenger and the other workers in the hallway hear before the door slams shut.
Back in the office, Rufus – though few could address him as such – sits in his seat, rubbing his head in frustration. He wonders out loud, "Why are all my workers so stupid!" Addressing a darkened corner of his room, he demands, "Tseng! Don't you have anything to say about this?!"
There is a moment of silence, before the edges of a black shoe emerge from the shadows along with a striking face, clearly of Wutai descent. "I don't believe now to be a good time to debate over the merit of our workers. They are not important enough for you to concern yourself with. We should instead be focusing our time on that file. Even with his usual irresponsibility, Reno is not the type to shirk out on work, unless it is for his own self-preservation. Therefore, it gives me reason to believe that this file contains urgent and dangerous information." With that said, Tseng steps out fully from the shadows and makes his way past Rufus, pulling open the thick curtains to allow light back into the room.
"Very well," Rufus murmurs. It becomes even more obvious how thin the file is, as he opens it and takes an irreverent glance at the information. Skimming through it, he almost dismisses it as unimportant information until his eye catches upon the word 'calamity.' His heart pounding and his hands curling in semi-fear, he reads the section with renewed fervor, making sure not to miss a single word. Much of it is a report on strange occurrences appearing all throughout Gaia and mentions of disappearances. This is not so uncommon, but the last passage appearing at the end of the report is what causes Rufus to grit his teeth in rage and fear. For it says quite clearly, "I combed through the survivors of an incident to the north, and it did not matter who I asked, for they all said the same thing. 'The land shook and tossed, not unlike the sea. The sky turned red for 3 days and nights, not unlike the color of blood. The animals screamed in a frenzy, even those with no voices to be heard. Their spirits shook until they grew silent in death. And it was only when all was silent and still that we ventured out. It was then that we saw HIM. Not a human nor a beast, he may have been a spirit. But all we know was that he had a stench about him. Death followed in his footsteps, rode upon his silver hair, and danced with his blade. We were insects before him; he spoke not to us, but to another being invisible to our eyes…And he whispered, "CLOUD," as if it was both a curse and a blessing.'"
His hands trembling with recognition and fear, Rufus cautiously places the file back on his desk. Drawing in a deep breath, he lets out a horrified whisper, "What do we do? What can we do?"
Tseng, coming to stand by his side, states with all the composure of one who has served faithfully for years, "We must continue to investigate. There is nothing we can do if this is indeed HIM. I would suggest that we send out an information-gathering team to verify some things for us. I have been receiving reports of…alarming activity in the East. If it is the same as what happened in the north, we can have reliable first-hand accounts."
"…Then that is what we will do. I will leave the details up to you, but report back to me directly if anything of significance occurs. We cannot be too careful if there is even a chance that HE is really back." Taking a moment to think, Rufus sighs before continuing, "And get someone to contact Cloud. If things are going to get serious soon, then we will definitely need his help."
Tseng bows and leaves Rufus to his thoughts. Resting his head upon his clenched hands, Rufus deliberates upon what he can do until any news return about the ominous occurrences. With a shake of his head, he turns to look out his window. Absently he wonders if things can possibly get any worse. The only thing they can do now, he realizes, is to hope that they are wrong about HIS return.
ZACK'S RESTING PLACE
With the wind gusting and the howling of wild beasts, it is a wonder that anyone would be at this high peak. But as always, Cloud stands upon the cliff overlooking the remnants of Midgar with his hand placed gently upon the rusting buster sword. For hours, Cloud stands vigil, staring out with distant eyes at a place no one could follow. Before finally, he gracelessly drops down upon the ground next to the sword that held and continues to hold so many memories.
Even now, when he closes his eyes in reminiscence, he can feel the comforting strength of Zack's presence and Aerith's encompassing love. After the events just a year past with the resurrection of Sephiroth and the threat of Geostigma, Cloud cannot help but remember how Zack and Aerith appeared before him. Aerith reaching out her hand and flinging him in the air, Zack standing back to back with him and giving him the courage to defeat Sephiroth, and their last appearance in the church.
Squeezing his eyes shut with a bitter smile playing upon his lips, Cloud almost cries out with the guilt and pain he can feel coursing through him every time he thinks of the two who mean so much to him. As always, Zack represents the strength and courage in him with Aerith as the voice of reason and compassion. Since their deaths, Cloud can feel them twisting inside him, so much so that sometimes he can't even remember where he ends and where they begin. So close and so warped that he doesn't remember himself. Even when he feels such love for them, their presence and their memories also bring out feelings so wretched inside of him, that he wishes he could just fall asleep and never wake up.
Don't say that! You still have so much to live for!
Without even opening his eyes, Cloud responds, "I'm tired. So tired…yet every time I wish to rest or join so many others in the Lifestream, the planet calls upon me once again. How many more times must I be pushed away?! I-I don't think I can take this anymore." His last words are full of despair, even as he opens his eyes and peers desperately and hungrily up at the figures of Zack and Aerith. Looking at them brings up mixed feelings yet again, but he can't help but feel dependent on them, as if they are the only ones keeping him from fraying at the seams. Keeping him from losing his mind.
Stop it Spike! Aerith is right, you can't keep beating yourself up like this. We just want you to look around and see how much the people around you care about you. There's Tifa, Cid, Yuffie, Barret, Reeve, Red XIII, even Vincent. But most of all, Cloud, you have us.
No matter what, you'll always have us, we'll always be together. Their words meshing together, filled with so much love, that Cloud can't help but shake. His heart still in so much pain, but soothed now by their efforts. As he closes his eyes once again, he calls upon the memory of Aerith's beautiful field of flowers and basks in the feeling of peace. Sitting upright, he once again finds the strength to move forward, even as they disappear from his view.
As he walks down the hill, he pauses in surprise when he sees the distinctive red cloak that could belong to only one person.
"…Vincent?"