Chapter 2

Sorin

It had been two months, three weeks, and four days, since they had taken care of the Outcasts and the Ancient Black. Sam was keeping count. He knew every day past yesterday was a blessing. The fact no one had caught on to their little game was surprising. Sam was confident he could cover it up for a while, but someone had to notice. Someone had to interpret the paradox. Cloud and Aeris were gone from Centre Time, Sam and Tifa had gone existence-hopping, things weren't as they were supposed to be. The only reason they hadn't been completely discovered earlier was because of who it was that caught wind of the mess Sam had caused.

His name was Sorin Tether; he was an Elder Cetra whose job was to monitor the existences which Sam had so eloquently screwed up. Sorin also happened to be, conveniently enough, a good friend of Sam's. Sorin was, in fact, the reason Sam could manipulate time and space as he does. Sorin himself had taught Samael how to transfer himself, and others from existence to existence. As well as how to find those "loopholes" which Sam used so much. So, when Sorin caught wind of Sam's little game he wasn't surprised at all. Though Sorin had no qualms about burying the truth to keep Sam out of trouble, at least for a while, Sorin knew something would have to be done about the residual paradoxes that were left behind.

He offered Sam an ultimatum, at least that's what he called it…it was more like a friendly: do this and I bury the truth, don't do this and you're screwed whether I bury the truth or not. It was a fact, as long as these inconsistencies existed Sam's little ploy could be discovered by more Cetra than Sorin.

Sam had no problem with Sorin's logic. Seeing as they were both foremost experts in existence travel and paradoxes, it shouldn't be too much trouble. Sam agreed to take care of the paradoxes left behind and Sorin used his status with the Cetra to make this clean-up job look like a routine Cetra inspection. Not that Cetra routinely inspected existences, but if Sorin said it was being done, no one, even the higher-ups, were going to question him. So, if all went as planned, Sorin and Sam were out of trouble, the paradoxes would be gone, and everybody's happy. All Sam had to do was report back to Sorin every now and then to get a location on another paradox. Sam was good, but Sorin was the only guy who could map out entire existences, Sam could only go there.

Sorin resided in one of the many existences, a nondescript one, and one not so easy to come across. It was so he blended in, to the other Cetra their venture seemed legitimate but neither Sam nor Sorin actually wanted any other people coming in and taking a closer look at anything. Sam and Tifa appeared in this existence only minutes after taking care of their enemies in the grey cloaks.

"They do have pretty good ice cream here, I bet," Sam said.

Tifa looked at him, "If you don't shut up about the ice cream, I'm going to start taking off limbs."

Sam put his hands up in surrender, "Alright, you got it, no more talking from me…just gonna walk silently."

"Good," Tifa said, the two walked silently for about ten seconds.

"I get it," Sam said suddenly, "you're more of a Popsicle type girl, right?"

Tifa opened her mouth to yell the first profanity that came to mind; Sam cut her off, "We're here, no yelling now! We're all friends!"

They stood in front of the City of the Ancients; Tifa had a constant death stare on Sam as they entered.

After a while of walking Tifa looked around curiously, "Wait, wasn't he waiting in the Shinra Mansion last time?"

Sam shrugged, "Sorin likes to move around. He also particularly enjoys shape-shifting. He's one of those always moving type people, I guess."

"Shape-shifting," Tifa muttered.

Tifa had only met Sorin once, this was only the second time Sam had taken her on one of his anti-paradox missions for the man. The one time she did meet him she only saw his true form: a guy in a red shirt and blonde hair, usually sitting at his desk. There were usually a lot of red things around him, as red was his favourite colour, he always wore a red shirt. As far as Sam knew there was never a reason for it, he just liked red.

"He's somewhere around the altar," Sam said.

"How do you know that?" asked Tifa.

"All us dead dudes have a sort of telepathic thingy, like Aeris had with her guardian, you know?"

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised," Tifa muttered.

"Nothing should surprise you anymore."

Just then, Sephiroth appeared in front of them.

Tifa was, again, surprised. She immediately jumped back into a defensive stance as the long, silver-haired man stood smiling at them.

"Gotcha!" Sephiroth said laughing. "Man, do I wish I had a mirror, you should've seen the look on your face!"

Tifa looked at Sephiroth curiously, for many logical reasons this couldn't actually be Sephiroth…it wasn't.

"Sorin, what are you, six years old?" asked Sam.

"Five or four if I can help it," Sorin replied, "you think this was bad, yesterday I turned into Ruby Weapon. Really scared the crap out of a few guys at the Golden Saucer. They'll be trying to figure that one out for years!"

Tifa relaxed after realizing Sephiroth was, in fact, Sorin, "I can see why you two get along."

Sam smiled and suddenly Cloud appeared standing in Sam's spot, "Prepare yourself my nemesis!"

Sorin laughed and drew a perfect replica of the Masamune Blade, he said his next line with no emotion whatsoever, "Har-har, I'm back from the dead again, yadda-yadda, evil stuff, evil stuff…I was created in a tube!!!! Yadda-yadda, you will never defeat me, et cetera…"

Cloud/Sam drew his own weapon, "I will defeat you because I'm cooler than you are…and if I lose my weapon I can stab you with my hair."

"Okay, you win," Sorin/Sephiroth said shrugging and putting away his sword.

Sam turned back into himself, "And that is the re-enactment of the entire Final Fantasy VII franchise."

Tifa opened her mouth to say something.

"No, Tifa," Sorin/Sephiroth said, "you don't want to know what Final Fantasy VII is, it'd just confuse you."

She said nothing.

"Down to business?" asked Sam.

Sephiroth/Sorin gestured for them to follow him, they ended up at the altar where Sorin's current form stabbed Aeris. Instead of simply an altar, however, there was a large desk with a mess of stuff on it. Sorin's workspace, it went with him wherever he went.

"You set up your desk here?" asked Tifa. "It barely fits on the altar."

"My work follows me everywhere, my dear," Sorin/Sephiroth replied, "and though I'm a young man in the sense of if I were alive, which I'm not, I have many years of such work behind me. It's become common knowledge that if I put it off for even one day, entire existences begin their trip to hell in hand baskets."

"Not comfy hand baskets either," Sam said, "shit ones you get at Price Choppers you know?"

Tifa looked at them blankly.

"Right well," Sorin/Sephiroth said, "let's get this next development on the big map and see where your next stop is."

They jumped across to the altar and stood at the desk. Sorin/Sephiroth opened up a black-covered book and found a page in the front, a table of contents of sorts, this he used to reference his way to the page he was looking for. He used a pencil to mark something off and then showed the page to Sam.

"Sorin, man, that's a fringe existence," Sam complained, "they have paradoxes al the time, it's likely I didn't even cause that one!"

"It's a priority, I'm afraid," Sephiroth/Sorin said shrugging, "I know fringe worlds can be a little strange, but it's nothing you can't handle."

"I'm bringing more guys with me then, those places can get real weird," Sam said.

"Take as many as you like, it's probably just going to be a book or something," Sorin/Sephiroth replied dismissively.

Sam shook his head, "Alright, we'll be back later."

"Good luck," Sorin/Sephiroth said.

Tifa and Sam left the city, she looked at him curiously, "What does he mean it'll probably be a book or something?"

"Fringe existences are existences that sort of exist just on the edge of existence," Sam said, "say that ten times fast. Anyways, these existences don't follow any patterns and usually take the form of some work of fiction from any existence, usually a book or a movie."

"Oh," Tifa said.

"You don't have to tag along on this one, if it's getting too weird for your sensibilities," Sam offered.

"It is getting kind of weird," she said.

"Confuses me sometimes, I'll take someone else on this one," Sam said.

"I said it was weird, I didn't say I didn't want to go," Tifa said grinning.

"You alive people are all so cryptic, you couldn't just say: okay, I'll go?" asked Sam.

"Just wanted to see how disappointed you'd be if I said I didn't wanna go," Tifa replied.

"I'd survive the rejection," Sam said pretending to start crying, "…somehow…"

"You said you wanted to bring more people on this one, right?" asked Tifa.

"If the old ball and chain lets him, I wanna get tall dark and shadowy and Cid, if he's interested," Sam said.

"Why them in particular?" asked Tifa.

"I want an airship with me on this one," Sam looked at Tifa, "and tall dark and shadowy is so creepy he might just scare off all the enemies."

"Chaos?" asked Tifa.

"Well, that helps too; I was focusing more on his evilness!"

Tifa shook her head.

"It's gonna take me a minute to get us into Centre Time again, while I'm doing that, why don't you go get us some ice cream?" asked Sam.

Tifa shook her head, "If someone else doesn't kill you soon, I will."