A/N: This has actually been done since Spring Break last week but I wanted to give myself a bit of time to write the next chapter out. I tend to rush details if I update too fast. Also, if you review and I don't answer, please don't be offended, I'm simply busy and/or cannot think of a proper reply. Rest assured I do look at them though. =)

Thank you Tomoyo-chan for betaing for me!

Edit: FFdotnet screwed up a bit of formatting, joy.

...

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" The angry litany ended with a solid thump against the metal of the truck and a bout of frustrated tugging that rattled chains.

"You are only making this worse," Sephiroth said quietly.

The sound of his quiet voice stopped Zack's struggling. The blue eyed first class clenched his jaw in silent anger as he stared at his eerily still superior, who remained with his head leaned back and eyes shut.

An angry growl spilled from Zack's lips as he glared at Sephiroth. "You can't be serious. Cloud is out there all by himself, probably dead or dying and you're calm?!"

The general was silent. Zack, taking that as a concession, pressed his case. "I don't want to be in here on my way to become Hojo's guinea pig when I could be finding Cloud and keeping him safe! He's not a SOLDIER! The Turks will-"

"The Turks will not bother Strife," Sephiroth interrupted.

Pure anger ignited Zack's eyes, turning them from their usual blue into a glowing blue-green. "Aren't you worried about him at all?"

Silver hair whispered as Sephiroth's head shifted in Zack's direction. Weary jade eyes peeked from beneath silver lashes as the general merely stared at his subordinate and friend. Something about the older male's lethargy was setting off alarm bells for Zack, but just as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, the general opened his own mouth, cutting him off.

"Tseng was telling us that he would not have his men pursue Cloud."

All things considered, Zack was rather skeptical, and it showed in the half-scowl he gave his superior. "Are you sure about that?"

Sephiroth nodded. "He is a shadow in ShinRa, but he has his own brand of honor," the silver-haired man mused quietly as he once more closed his eyes.

The relief Zack felt at the simple statement was almost suffocating. The SOLDIER released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and stared at his friend. The normally pristine general looked beyond rough at this point. His once expensive looking leather trench coat had several rips and tears in it and his long hair was mussed and tangled. Even his face, which was normally smooth and stern was lined with weariness and was paler than normal. As he watched, the general tried to shift against the wall, only to stiffen as his shoulders and back tensed in pain.

"You ok, Sephiroth?" he asked, more than a little concerned. The older male had been doing that a lot. It was as if he were trying to get comfortable and only ended up aborting the motion prematurely.

The older man didn't bother to answer; Zack took that as his hint to settle down and let him recover in peace.

The glide of the vehicle on the road momentarily distracted the dark-haired soldier. He winced as he remembered their current predicament. They had been captured and were surely on a one way trip straight to Hojo's labs. No doubt the creepy scientist would like to get his hands on them in order to dissect them and find out what had gone on in the reactor.

Against his will, Zack's thoughts turned to the thing that had invaded his mind in the reactor. He'd never felt something so domineering or invasive in his entire life. The sheer presence of the creature had made him crumble to its influence without even noticing that it had been in his mind in the first place.

How had Sephiroth survived it? he wondered. The force of Jenova's voice had been all-encompassing and absolute. It was a furious demand to comply, and an order to reunite with something far larger than any authority he had ever obeyed. At one point, it had felt as if the voice had been pulling on something hidden inside him, coaxing it to the surface and rearranging his very body with the intent of dragging it out by force.

If Cloud hadn't come when he had, there was no telling what would have happened to the two First Class SOLDIERs. It most likely wouldn't have been pleasant, though.

Zack shivered and gave his arm bindings another testing jerk. He scowled at the lack of slack before tilting his head to the ceiling and closing his eyes.

Here's to hoping the kid's okay, he thought.

…

"Sir, Veld has issued the order to detain and collect all the remaining survivors of Nibelheim to this laboratory as you ordered. All of the currently gathered specimens are now sedated and awaiting assignment."

"Oh? My my, that man is quite a role model for you Turks, is he not? He has such efficiency and devotion to following orders. I would have thought he would try to refuse my orders on grounds of human rights or some other nonsense." The head scientist of ShinRa's science department folded his hands behind his back and smirked at the Turk reporting in to him.

"Is that all then?"

The nervous Turk hesitated for only a brief moment. "General Sephiroth and First Class SOLDIER Fair are now in Turk custody and on their way to the Rocket Town transport deck. They're scheduled for shipment to Midgar for a desertion trial after the launch ceremony there."

Hojo pushed his glasses further up his nose and gave the Turk a mild glare. "Who is the one responsible for their capture?"

The Turk seemed to hesitate, his expression distinctly uncomfortable under the scientist's displeased stare. "Commander Tseng, Professor."

The Professor was silent as he processed the information. He knew that Tseng was not obligated to follow his orders and would in fact try his best not to follow them-with Rufus and Reeve's hidden blessings of course. It explained why his prized specimen and the other SOLDIER were not already on their way back to the underground labs here in Nibelheim.

"What of the boy who lost me my Cetra specimen?" he demanded. "What did they do with him?"

The Turk gave a nervous shift of his feet, but the Professor did not notice; his attention was solely focused on the data charts in his hand. "Silencer hasn't reported in yet, but the infantryman Cloud Strife was pronounced 'Killed in Action,' sir. Most likely he resisted capture and had to be taken down."

"That's...convenient," Hojo sneered, more to himself than anything as he began flipping through the file he'd acquired on Strife. "And I suppose Tseng is also the one who issued that deliberation."

"Ahh...yes, sir," the young spy confirmed nervously.

"Well, that is rather unfortunate," the scientist conceded, his eyes lingering on a particularly interesting bit of information one of his assistants had overlooked. "Private Strife seems to have an odd affinity to mako and an almost startling compatibility ratio to Jenova cells."

The scientist was silent yet intrigued as he painstakingly flipped through the documents before him. According to these charts, the boy had been so compatible to the mako, it had been necessary to withhold him from the full treatments in order to prevent his personality from suffering. It had simply been too dangerous to immerse him in a mako tank for the full amount of time it took for a SOLDIER to be created, so he had been rejected from the program.

Hojo's eyes narrowed as he came across one of the researchers' notes.

Despite Strife's brief contact with the Jenova-S dilute, he has shown a startling increase in his physical condition. A follow-up exam revealed Cadet Strife had an increase in overall stats in a mere month; bone density ratio increased by 21.33%, muscle mass ratio increased by 12.78%, and eyesight/night vision radius reported increased by 23%. Jenova cells seem to have been assimilated into host body structure and forced into a dormant state.

The Turk watched uneasily as the professor's cold eyes began to shift into an expression of almost crazed glee. Beneath his suit sleeves, goose bumps had broken out along his arms and he suppressed the urge to shiver. Professor Hojo's beady little eyes gleaming with such greed and speculation could only mean bad news for someone else.

Hojo felt a faint stir of excitement. The ShinRa scientist wondered how he had missed such vital information before. Such a severe affinity to mako along with almost perfect harmony with Jenova cells...it was as if this boy's body had been made to be a puppet. All that would be needed was a bit of prolonged mako exposure to suppress or dissolve the boy's personality and the Jenova cells would simply reactivate in order to ensure the body's survival. And with no personality to repress the instincts of the Jenova cells, the body would be perfect as a vessel for Jenova's core to return to from the Lifestream. And the use of that boy's body would be deliciously ironic, since he had been the one to dispel her into the Lifestream in the first place.

Then a thought slithered in, somewhat dampening the scientist's excitement, causing him to scowl. That's right; the stupid boy had been pronounced dead, hadn't he?

The Strife boy could have been a wonderful specimen, but if the Turks were to be believed, he was now dead and out of Hojo's reach. A stroke of inspiration hit. Hojo reached his gaunt hand up and adjusted the glasses on his equally gaunt face as a thin smile broke out across his pale features.

That did not, however, mean that he couldn't still be of some use to the scientist.

"Bring me the body of Private Strife," Hojo ordered the Turk briskly, plans already forming on what to do with Strife's unique genetic code and compatibility once it was in his hands.

...

Even with war going on, life would continue as normal for certain establishments. If anything, wars and disaster only made places like this even more popular and sought after.

The bar was lively and active, a direct contrast to the gloomy, tense atmosphere of the world outside its doors. Well-endowed women in traditional Wutaian kimonos served the men their drinks, their painted faces beautiful in the warm light. Several groups were engaged in loud chatter, their bodies and mouths animated as they all swapped stories or gossip about the current war going on inside their borders. In the darker corners of the room, several single men were drowning their sorrows and worries with their choice of alcohol.

One man in particular was seated in a booth that had a view of the entire room. His small frame was settled with perfect posture into the worn seats as both hands gripped onto a cup of steaming liquid. His face was carefully hidden under a low white hood, but what little was shown happened to be his lips, which were settled into a firm, neutral line.

After a moment or two, the person blew on his cup, causing the steam to gently curl away before he took a small sip. The noise of the bar receded a bit as the door opened and another person entered, but once their identity was confirmed as non-threatening, the usual noises continued as if they had never even ceased in the first place.

A few seconds later, a shadow fell over the lone man's table and the hood tilted slightly upward as he regarded the new arrival. A stern Wutaian face gazed down at the cloaked male, his face lined with age. To most, he would seem harsh and unfriendly, almost angry with his sharp features and narrowed eyes. The cloaked male knew however, that this man in particular was merely a proud patriot of the highest elite ranking and unashamed to let others know it.

Both men were silent as they assessed one another, until finally, the cloaked man gestured towards the opposite side of the booth from himself.

"That better not be sake, boy," the newcomer grumbled to the other in accented Continental.

The cloaked stranger took another small sip of his drink before giving a low exhale. A small smile curled across his lips. "And if it were?"

"Hmph," the stranger grunted, knowing when he'd been gotten. "Always the brat even with your affinity for politics."

A small huff of laughter escaped the cloaked male's lips. Despite its coldness, it was surprisingly easy to tell that its owner was rather young. "No worries, old man, it's merely jasmine tea—one of my favorites, if you recall."

"Yes," the Wutaian man agreed. "I take it something beneficial has occurred?"

"You could say that," the boy said airily, as he released his tea cup and folded his hands before himself. "What do you know of the recent tragedy in Nibelheim?"

The Wutaian looked distinctly puzzled. "The poor town that burned down not too long ago?" At the other male's nod, he gave a critical frown. "It got attacked and burned down by one of those groups of super dragons they've been plagued by lately. What of it?"

"Ah, I see even you are unaware of the finer details," came the amused response.

The Wutaian's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"The fact that there isn't a report of a single witness account, or story in a town under ShinRa control should be enough of a red flag," the young man said lightly. "How did they come to the conclusion that it was a dragon attack so quickly without a proper investigation?"

The older man's eyes gleamed with anger and his lips tightened. "Turks," he spat. The distaste and anger were clear in his tone.

"We have to tell our allies," the Wutaian man began, his voice low but intense, "they'll expose ShinRa and get the public to acknowledge their deceits—"

A hand was held up before him, halting his tirade. A smile flashed across the cloaked male's mouth. "Our friends will soon be pursuing another method of exposing ShinRa and eliminating one of their advantages over us."

"Advantage?"

"Yes. SOLDIERs have always been glorified as heroes to the public, but what will that public do once their esteemed heroes are shown indiscriminately killing the very people they were sworn to protect?"

The Wutaian's eyes widened. "So they found more deserters to convert?" His brown eyes were wary as he seemed to contemplate the situation. "That research information we gave the eco-terrorists—"

"—has been put to very good use, I assure you," the cloaked male said primly, almost sharp in his retort. A smile slid across his lips, softening the prior tone just the slightest bit. "It's even been tested and refined. Once ShinRa proceeds with the Rocket Town launch, our mutual allies will strike and we'll remove the source of everyone's troubles in a single decisive blow."

The Wutaian man's face was completely still, his dark brown eyes filled with caution and wariness. "I see."

At that, the younger man gave another smile. The slightest shift of the material covering his head gave a glimpse of calculating blue eyes. "Once the alpha wolf is put down, the rest of the pack will simply be a crowd of mutts that can be retrained with a firm enough hand." The smugness in the young man's voice made the older man somewhat uneasy. Given the subject, he was also uncomfortable having something so vital discussed in such a manner.

The Wutaian elite closed his eyes as he considered the true meaning behind their conversation.

No more oppression, no more shame...no more ShinRa. With this, an end to his people's troubles was within reach.

After a moment he reopened his eyes, revealing the faint hope and determination brewing within his heart. "If you need help getting their cooperation we have trainers who have dealt with methods for particularly unruly pets."

The cloaked young man gave a decidedly pleased smirk. "I'll be sure to take you up on that offer in the future."

...