Xibalba, Chapter Four
"Calm
before the storm"
After showering and changing into non-soiled clothing, the three sat about the table again. It had taken the better part of an hour to bring Yuffie up to speed regarding the current situation.
"You can understand, then, why we are concerned about the project," Red pointed out. "The possible effects on the fabric of reality are... not desirable."
"Understatement of the century," Yuffie quipped.
Cloud gave her a look, but did not argue. "The last thing that needs to happen to the Planet," he said, "is to have Sephiroth skulking around, killing people and summoning meteors. We've got to stop them."
"But they are not here," Red countered. "My intelligence was incorrect. There has been no one in this mansion since we last explored it more than four years ago."
"Then where are they?" Yuffie asked. "There's only so many cities they could hide in. I know for sure they're not in Wutai. I was just there."
"Nor are they using Cosmo as a base of operations," Red said. "I concur, there aren't many places for them to conduct business left in the world. And since it would appear as though the global PHS network is no longer functioning, we cannot simply call every city and inquire about such people. We shall, in a word, have to do things the hard way."
"You mean check out every major city on the Planet ourselves," Cloud said, nodding. "Sounds like fun." He rolled his eyes. "We'll need supplies for that, and this town ain't exactly a bustling metropolis. We can get only enough to cross the mountains here. We'll need to get to Rocket Town and get more there."
A quiet fell over the room, and after about half a minute Cloud could sense uneasiness from his companions. So he broke the silence. "Something about that you guys don't like?"
"The condition of the trails across the mountains is unknown," Red replied almost immediately. "We don't know if the paths are even still negotiable. Mount Nibel is not a popular tourist attraction. As you know, Cloud, the Mako reactor was not properly deactivated. As such, the monster population has certainly gone up since we last crossed. It will not be a pleasant hike."
Cloud had not considered that. In fact, now that he thought about it, he hadn't thought very much of this mission out at all. He'd basically been flying by the seat of his pants, and it had not gotten him that far. Nibelheim was more or less deserted, as it always had been. He should have checked out Red's intelligence before coming here. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say. But he was right, there'd probably be a hell of a lot more monsters on the mountain than the last time they came through here. Plunging headlong into god knows what probably wasn't the best course of action.
"Good point," Cloud said. "We should try to prepare for monster attacks. Who's got materia? Yuffie, I'm looking in your direction."
"Huh?" she said. "Materia? What makes you think I've got any materia?"
They stared at her.
"Well, you're right, I do," she admitted, feeling uncomfortable under their eyes. "I've got enough for me. I don't know about the rest of you though."
I'm just glad she didn't make off with the lot of it after we beat Sephiroth, Cloud thought. I probably would've been up shit creek a few times if I hadn't had my materia. "Well, he who heals others shall be healed in kind," he said aloud. "Keep that in mind."
They exited the building and found the day had become quite ugly. Dark, gray, overcast, the threat of rain heavy in the air. The ambient temperature had dropped quite a bit as well, which was common in these parts. It was nothing for one day to be baking hot and the next to freeze the well over. Cloud was intimately familiar with the erratic weather patterns of this area, and he was not surprised. Disheartened, yes, for they may have to cross the Nibel mountain range in a downpour, but not surprised. The wind was coming in from the west, so he looked to the sky in that direction and saw a dark mass of clouds surging eastward. He figured that would be the storm system, and it would be here by nightfall, maybe a bit later, and would last for several hours, if not a whole day.
Fantastic.
Fantastic. Another meeting with the Board of Donors. This time Enali had considerably better news to report . . . but also bad.
The portal had been repaired and reactivated without issue, and they had been conducting experiments to determine the maximum and minimum amounts of chronological displacement possible by the device. So far the results had been encouraging. The maximum distance along the timeline they'd been able to return a test subject from was estimated to be somewhere in the neighborhood of a few thousand years in each direction. This was verified by chronological analysis of a control object, a stainless steel bucket, recovered by the guinea pig in the future. In the other direction, a flora sample, a handful of grass, was collected. There were only a few small problems.
First, the effects of time travel on the human body were just short of fatal. The chroniton field emitted by the portal caused the person to enter a state of instability at the atomic level, which worsened with multiple trips. Eventually, it was hypothesized, the person would lose molecular cohesion and fly apart at the seams, so to speak, in transit, having their atoms irreversibly scattered across time. If they happened to survive the jumps, they would be rendered sterile, impotent, and would develop a terminal form of cancer. As such, they were critically short of volunteers to test the portal. This flaw would have to be corrected, since it was very likely that more than one trip would be necessary to locate the Great One.
The second small problem involved the timeline analysis sensors. The theory was that since they had a doorway into the time stream, they should be able to track anything, whether it be a bucket, a bug or a boy, as it moved along the timeline. The stipulation was that it had to have existed within the space-time continuum at some time or another. Since every rock on the ground exists, it seemed a foregone conclusion that they could easily locate the Great One and send someone to him to avert his death at the hands of Avalanche.
Such was not the case, however. The sensors had failed spectacularly, not being able to track anything, even when homing beacons designed specifically to give off the frequency being scanned for were attached to test objects thrown randomly into the past and future. It would appear that locating the Great One would be a bit more difficult than originally anticipated. They would have to send an operative to search him out and convince him of the coming events.
That in and of itself would be tricky. Sephiroth was the greatest warrior who ever lived, who did naught but what he chose to do. He was also incredibly confident in his own abilities. It would probably be prudent to give him a glimpse into the present, his future, to show him that he does not live, and who is responsible.
All this he related to the Board. They responded that the flaws that caused the portal to kill its users was priority to be remedied, and he had one week in which to do so. There would be no further usage until then. If his staff did not rectify the situation, Enali would personally make the next jump... to an undetermined destination which, in all likelihood, would not be very pleasant.
Since it would take the better part of a day to cross Mount Nibel, they decided it would be best to stay at the inn another night and start out at dawn. Cloud purchased enough supplies to last them until Rocket Town, where they would hopefully be able to acquire an alternate means of transportation. The worst part about this trek was, if Cloud had been alone he could make the journey in a few hours, since he possessed a mount capable of mountain climbing. Yuffie had sent her chocobo back to Wutai the previous day, and Renault had not been seen for some time. Cloud hadn't been concerned though; he knew how to take care of himself, and the wolves in this area certainly weren't a danger to a gold chocobo, the fleetest animal this side of a cactuar. He'd been trained to return to the ranch if separated from Cloud for too long, so that's probably where he'd gone.
Cloud knew full well the dangers of crossing the Nibel range, having grown up at the base here in Nibelheim. When he was younger, and he'd had a bad day or just felt like it, he'd gone and explored the mountain for hours at a time, often until dark, which would worry his mom to no end. Invariably he'd come back with some damage, but his injuries had steadily decreased as he gained climbing experience. He'd be the first to admit, though, he was no expert; he'd climbed the Corel and Midgar ranges a few times in his travels, but always with Renault, who was more sure-footed than any grizzled guide on the Planet. Red had been born in the Cosmo Desert, so he was a natural when it came to craggy terrain. Yuffie said that part of her ninja training was to scale Da-Chao on a regular basis, so she would fare well. So it seemed that only he might have trouble with this leg of the trip.
Even though he knew they had a hard day ahead of them, Cloud found he couldn't fall asleep. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a couple hours listening to the first drops of rain fall, mind blank but occasionally wandering to the woman who slept peacefully in the next bed. After they stopped Meteor and fought off the people of Kalm, she had offered him residence at her home in Wutai. He had accepted, having nowhere else to go. He stayed with her for the better part of a year, and she had helped him through the grieving process. But he felt as though physical and mental atrophy was creeping up on him, and he had left in the night without telling Yuffie. He was sure she had been upset—who wouldn't be?—but it was something he felt he had to do. He didn't know then and still didn't know now why he left to meander about the Planet, what he hoped to find, where he was going... He just knew he had to find something. After a few weeks of aimless wandering he settled on trying to find the Promised Land. Aeris had said that you don't "know" where the Promised Land is, you just search and travel until you feel it, that this is the Promised Land. So he searched and traveled, looking for the Promised Land of Cetran legend, always just beyond the horizon, just out of reach. Throughout the whole journey, he never once thought of returning to Midgar, which was probably the one place he would find the information he needed to reach the Promised Land. All the research Hojo had conducted—at Ifalna and Aeris' expense—was meticulously documented, backed up and stored securely in underground bunkers, unaffected by the destruction of Meteor. Hindsight.
Yuffie would probably have insisted on coming with him had she known he was going somewhere. Maybe he'd still seen the arrogant kid in her and didn't want her along, and that's why he didn't want her to know. Maybe he thought she'd just slow him down. Slow him down... on a possibly never-ending search for the Promised Land, where speed really didn't matter. Whatever, point was, he didn't want her to know he was leaving. Didn't matter what the reason was. But now he wished he hadn't left her high and dry like he did. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think about her, and Aeris, and Tifa... He abandoned them all. Sure, the circumstances were different in each case, but they all had the same result: Aeris murdered by Sephiroth; Tifa brought down by mutated shades of the people of Kalm; Yuffie... still alive. He'd have to make sure she stayed that way.
He rolled onto his side and gazed at her sleeping form on the next bed, blanket haphazardly strewn about her body as if she'd tried to throw it off. She was so peaceful and sedate, totally unlike the firecracker she was while conscious. Beautiful, just beautiful. You're a grade A ass for dropping her like a hot rock like you did. She's right, it's not like you couldn't have let her know you weren't in a dragon's belly or something. Ass.
He continued watching her sleep for some time, taking a simple pleasure in just looking at her, the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath, the occasional finger or foot twitch indicating REM sleep. God, she's beautiful. He began to doze off...
"She missed you, you know. Even I can see that."
The soft but distinctive voice of Red brought him back to awakeness. He didn't turn to him. "And I her," he replied. "I shouldn't have left her."
"It is an unfortunate state of affairs that the future is written in clay, while the past has hardened into stone. I would not recommend leaving her again."
Cloud nodded to himself, then seriously thought about what would make Red, of all people, say things like that. He normally didn't comment on matters of the heart, so Cloud felt he probably should heed such advice well. Then he scoffed soundlessly. The very notion that Red even saw something between them made him feel even more pigheaded.
Again he dozed, lulled by the steady, monotonous thrum of the night's rain...
"What's that?"
Randomly across the plain, thin green tendrils of light began emerging from the earth. First one, as if tentatively, testing the waters, then another, then dozens, hundreds, multiplying, until the horizon in all directions was bathed in emerald brilliance.
Without even realizing it, he responded, "Lifestream."
The Lifestream poured out from the earth, wending its way toward them and the wrong of the Meteor. Holy just wasn't doing its job. It seemed as though it wasn't hindering the black magic at all; perversely, it was helping it to demolish Midgar. But that would likely change once the Lifestream reached the Holy-Meteor contention.
His suspicions were confirmed as the Lifestream converged upon Holy and Meteor with a blinding viridian flash. He turned his eyes away and shaded them with an arm, as did the others. The brightness lasted for some time before slowly fading away into the familiar perpetual darkness surrounding the metropolis. When he looked again, he saw no trace of Meteor, Holy or the Lifestream, as if they'd never existed. He knew better as he surveyed the devastation of Midgar.
His train of thought suddenly pulled the emergency brake cord as he remembered just how close the burrow of Kalm really was to Midgar. "Shit," he muttered. Then louder, "Cid, get us to Kalm. We've got to see what happened there."
"Indeed," the red beast interjected. "That was a rather large shockwave. We must render aid if anyone is injured." The craft suddenly lurched to starboard and acelerated, rather unnecessarily, since Kalm was but a stone's throw away, and took less than a minute to arrive by air. They left the aura of darkness around Midgar and descended toward the hamlet, bumping to a stop a few hundred yards from the outskirts.
AVALANCHE disembarked from the craft and hastened to the village to ascertain any damage. Some buildings had received minor structural damage, nothing more severe than the last hurricane did, but more disturbing was the awkward shambling of the townsfolk. As he approached one to ask if anyone was hurt, she turned on him suddenly. With pulsing malachite replacing the orbs of her eyes, she shrieked piercingly and flailed at him with raking claws. He jumped back, trying to evade, but yelped when his arm was scored and four streams of blood welled forth. He glimpsed his companions being accosted by townspeople in a similar fashion. He turned back just in time to dodge a full body tackle from the crazed woman. All around him ordinary people were lashing out at each other, and he saw the same beryl, unfocused eyes.
Above the sounds of struggle, the red beast called, "They have been infused with enormous amounts of Mako instantaneously! It has driven them mad!"
He had to agree, since three more people lunged at him and he had only enough reaction time to push them back. Then pain lanced out from his unarmored shoulder as another slashed him. He whirled and drew his sword in one motion, then spun a swath about him, not hitting any of the people, just trying to clear an area around him. He did so several more times, and each time the swarms danced back out of range, then immediately pressed forward.
"Defend yourselves!" he shouted. Then without delay his blade flashed at the nearest person who failed to step back from his range. Crimson splashed onto the cobblestone, and they fell. Three more came forward to take her place, and they too were dispatched. Then he heard the sharp report of pistol and gatling, and the howl and cries of joined battle. Grunts, panting, anguished moans. He heard a shout for assistance, his name called by her, and he glanced in that direction to see her beset by some dozen of them, flailing, trying to keep them away but not succeeding. He whipped his sword around him again and charged to her, cutting down all who stood before him, but they were many, many more than he thought would be here in this small town, probably refugees from Midgar, surging masses he couldn't move quickly enough through, he lost sight of her, washed away by countless zombies, his rage peaked and he brandished his weapon unhaltingly to clear the sea of flesh until the last before him lay at his feet—
Bloodied, battered, bruised, she lay beneath one, and he rudely shoved them aside, dropped his sword, crouched and gently lifted her head. After a seeming eternity she opened her burgundy orbs, eyes so full of life but curiously flat now, she drew and rattlingly released a breath, a thin trail of red from her mouth, she was hurt, maybe hurt bad, where's the restore materia, he fumbled through his pouch to find it, god where is it, calm down or you won't be able to use it—
"I love you, Cloud."
She closed her eyes and exhaled.
She didn't inhale.
Tifa. Tifa. TIFA! His vision blurred and hot wetness ran down his face. No, no, don't die on me, DON'T YOU DIE ON ME GODDAMMIT!
He clutched her to his chest. A strangled cry of unfathomable, inconsolable grief. "No, no, no, Tifa no, god no, Tifa, please, don't," continued utterance of denial, abnegation, appeals to the heavens, soft hands placed upon his back ignored, more denial, pleas.
They set Kalm to the torch. The largest funeral pyre the world had seen before since, the only fitting way to put them to rest. After the last ember had gone out, a pall of bleakness about them, they reboarded the Highwind, her cradled in his arms, and set out for the only place she could be laid in final somnolence.
He awoke before the dawn. He mourned.
