It had occurred to Sephiroth many times to wonder at the disappearance of Professor Ghast. As much as he hated scientists (and he did – they were a subspecies that needed to be destroyed) he'd always respected him. If only for the fact that when Ghast had been in charge, Sundays had indeed been a day of rest. That respect had just been lowered a few notches by the realisation that not only had he been abandoned to Hojo for the Ancient Ifalna (who looked scarily like Aeris – so much so that he had an unpleasant idea of where exactly this 'research' was leading them both) but also that Ghast apparently couldn't tell the difference between a Cetra and a thing with tentacles.
"One more Mother, then we'll go." Jenova didn't answer, owing to the fact that she'd been squished into the fridge and was currently working hard at extracting herself, a tentacle at a time.
It did explain a lot, he admitted, resentfully throwing popcorn at the screen every time Ifalna appeared, but the knowledge had been gained at a high price. At least, it had from his perspective, which was the only one that mattered. Leaving a defenceless child to the mercies of a Hojo (who could give any high-ranking torture demon a serious run for his money before beating him hands down) for a woman. Pah. It was quite lucky Ghast had just been shot on screen, or Sephiroth might have decided to subvert his quest for a while to find him and castrate him. No, he didn't have abandonment issues, whatever gave you that idea?
The faint vestiges of guilt at killing a praying girl suddenly flew out of the window. That was a relief. Guilt, even in the minute quantities he'd felt, was a horrible sensation that he'd never had before and as such, had made him feel incredibly miserable. Too miserable to even enjoy Chocobo Head's extremely funny speech about how he was falling apart. There was an odd silence when the tape finished. Odd because it was broken by various disgustingly pulpous noises as Jenova pulled herself from the fridge, and a near inaudible sigh from a sternly disapproving Sephiroth, just before he buried his face in the feathery hair of the Chocobo Head doll. "You won't abandon me, will you?" He mumbled quietly, trying to figure out when the chocobo smell had acquired faint undertones of ice and fresh apples.
With a sickening, squelching noise impossible to describe, Jenova finally pulled herself out of the fridge. There were several odd indentations that lead him to believe the fridge hadn't been as empty as he believed when he shoved her into it.
Let's go. And if you don't put that doll away, I'm going to tear it to pieces.
The doll disappeared from sight faster than Yuffie carrying away Bahamut and friends. Sephiroth vanished out of the door a full ten seconds slower.
"Can we snowboard down there?"
Completely unnecessary. There is a perfectly good reason you can teleport.
"Yes, but that's no fun!"
Sephiroth, don't-
There was an outraged screech, as somebody's back door suddenly became a makeshift snowboard. "Come along, Mother."
Bad Sephiroth! Bad, bad Sephir-!
The enraged homeowner came storming out, waving a rather lethal looking shotgun, only to find the culprits vanishing rapidly out of sight, and silver hair waving insolently from the distance.
I'm going to kill you!
"Relax, Mother. You're mostly in one piece, aren't you?"
Kill you!
He sighed. There was just no talking to her in this mood. He couldn't see what the problem was. Yes, a large chunk had detached itself from the main amorphous mass when they'd run over that moogle, but what function did that have anyway? She was being totally unreasonable.
And I'll pick that doll apart seam by seam!
Now that was unreasonable. He pushed her hurriedly into an ice cave, and continued walking.
The best thing about this job, he mused, throwing a rock with stunning accuracy and hitting a bird, was that he got to see possibly the most beautiful places in the world. Like here, for instance. Completely untouched by Shinra (or by very many men at all, for that matter), it was almost as peacefully beguiling as the Sleeping Forest. So long as he kept moving, that was, and didn't allow himself to freeze. That would have rather spoilt the experience. Of course, it was all going to be wiped out if Jenova got her way, but these things happened. If Chocobo Head only made as competent a hero as he did psychotic, everything would be fine anyway. One could only hope.
Speaking of chocobo psychos - or was it psycho chocobos? - there was one just there, flying through the air in an astonishing manner, when taken into consideration the complete absence of wings. Said wings especially made their absence felt when the poor boy hit the ground in a flurry of snow and flailing limbs.
Sephiroth winced in sympathy, breathing a quiet sigh when the boy managed to (quite painfully by the look of it) lift his head from the snow. He never had got the idea that Chocobo Head was technically an adult by virtue of the number of years he'd spent in existence. Nobody had thought to inform him that even if he never looked older than twenty-five, other people aged. So while he spent an agony of five years counting seconds go by without ageing for any of them, his puppet had in fact reached his majority. Or perhaps the thought was simply too terrifying, the puppet being mistaken for a responsible adult.
"Ugh... I guess we're still in one piece... Everyone all right?"
There was an assorted grumbling and moaning that Sephiroth took to be the affirmative. Or the Chocobo Head did, anyway. "So where did we land? We've jumped pretty far..."
There was a map. Sephiroth knew for a fact that the boy had a map (mind control – a wonderful thing) so why didn't he use his brain for once, and look at it? Was he entirely inept? ...Why couldn't he have got someone who hadn't had the important parts of his brain removed by Hojo to be the puppet?
"It sure is cold. We'll freeze if we stay here any longer."
Sephiroth put his head in his hands. It was useless. Utterly useless. The world was doomed. 'Mental note: Never place faith in anyone resembling a chocobo, particularly in matters pertaining to the world's continued survival.' Maybe if he walked away and ignored the problem it would go away. It was worth a try.
'The fate of this planet is not in the hands of a lobotomised chocobo. Really.' Repeating it over and over almost made it real.
Sephiroth had never prayed in his life (well, once or twice maybe, but God hadn't caused Hojo to conveniently disappear in an amazingly painful manner, so he'd given up) but just this once, he'd like his prayers answered. It was too much to ask for the loan of a brain, so... 'Please, just give him enough luck to succeed in killing Jenova at least. Please? I can't take much more of this!'
It was no wonder people didn't pray much anymore. It was a decidedly bleak silence that greeted him when he stopped thumping his head against a tree trunk and opened his eyes. Gods. Who needed them? He'd just have to do this himself. He was probably twice as competent anyway. For some reason, that bleak sense of despair still followed him.
He was surrounded by idiots. Imbeciles. They were going in circles, and not only that, in the wrong direction. He'd assumed his previous lack of faith was only a momentary thing, but he was quite certain of it now – the world was doomed. It would be a shame – he'd liked the majority of places, even if there had only ever been one or two of the people he could stand. He watched the Chocobo Head try gallantly to wake his companions from their varying states of unconsciousness with an exasperated sigh. It was time to implement Plan B. He'd never had a Plan A in the first place, but who was to know?
We have other things to worry about than the welfare of your pet.
"Mother, Chocobo Head has the Black Materia."
So pry it from his corpse.
"Look, most of his companions have already collapsed. If he sits out here trying to wake them up much longer he'll freeze without realising it. That guy over there..." he jerked his head irritably at the climber who would later introduce himself as Holzoff, currently peeking out at the Chocobo Head from the trees, "Won't take them in till they've all collapsed. And it takes a long time for a..." he paused. Not a SOLDIER... a... "...being infused with mako to actually collapse with cold. It's mostly after they're dead."
So? Our concern is the Reunion. Nothing more.
"The Reunion requires Chocobo Head. And the revelation of his real past is the fun bit, and that requires an audience. All of whom are going in the wrong direction and likely to freeze to death."
Oh, very well.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Mother was getting increasingly irritable the closer to the summit they got. Muttering quietly about useless former climbers, he left the cover of the trees and hit the Chocobo Head sharply on the back of the head with the hilt of the Masamune. Quite unsurprisingly (although not to the Chocobo Head, his expression one of total bewilderment), the blond's legs buckled and he collapsed face first into the snow. Sephiroth quickly discarded the idea of hitting Holzoff 'by accident' as he scurried up to the fallen idiots/heroes, but this didn't prevent his fingers twitching spasmodically as he headed towards the cliff. Idiots. He was sick and tired of baby-sitting idiots.
Not only that, his hair was becoming increasingly brittle and dry the longer he stayed out here. He might not like the length, but he did like to look his best no matter how personally dissatisfied he might be with certain aspects.
This business of breaking Chocobo Head's mind into infinitesimal pieces with memories and illusions had better the best fun he'd had since rolling Heidegger down the stairs, or he was going to resign his contract as evil bishonen and spend what remained of the planet's life trying (unsuccessfully, as always) to get a suntan at the Costa Del Sol. That was another of life's big mysteries – the total inability of his skin to gain any hue beyond extremely pale. All things considered though... sunbathing probably wasn't the wisest of decisions. Unless of course, he'd like death by asphyxiation due to any number of women crushing him. That would be just possibly more interesting, if a little more predictable, than being strangled by his hair. No, scratch Costa del Sol. It might be nice to have one last barbecue, though. Nibelheim could go on the 'maybe' list.
His absence wouldn't change anything (apart from the forces of evil no longer having an attractive spokesperson), but it would mean he wouldn't be present to witness the excruciating spectacle of the end of the world, or the prerequisite final speeches.
…I'm so pretty, oh so pretty…
...What a terrible way for a planet to die.
It's been a long time…
"Too long." Sephiroth muttered, surveying the long line of Clones with a speculative look that meant he was soon to perpetrate some act of mild insanity. This was immediately proved true, as he knocked out the last Clone in the line, supposedly in the interests of discovering if they really did act like dominoes when knocked down. To his great delight, fifteen went down before a sizeable gap prevented anything more than a stagger on an unfortunate Clone's part. Sephiroth killed him anyway in a fit of pique at the pattern being ruined.
If these circumstances ever present themselves again, I shall not enlist the help of a silver-haired maniac who disgraces the gift of my genetics.
"I'm certain he'll be very grateful."
Idiot.
"I'm sure you are, mother, but there's no need to insult yourself." He stooped to help a Clone up and then killed him. "Is Rufus coming to this little soirée?"
Quite coincidentally, yes.
"Oh good. The bigger the audience, the better. Isn't that right?" he murmured to the doll. If ever a doll could look terrified, this was that doll – possibly because Sephiroth had been musing aloud for the past five miles if he should fix puppet strings to it in a messy live surgery, in the interests of accuracy. The change in facial cast was quite an amazing feat, given the fixed nature of its expression, which had originally been one of bland innocence.
There was no point in vexing himself over that however, when the perfect diversions littered the path all around him. The adoration and worship had been intriguing while it lasted, but ultimately, there was one form of entertainment Sephiroth valued even higher than Godhood and devoted Clones. That was, quite obviously, killing them. "This is the end... for all of you." He declared haughtily, laying waste with will.
'One clone... two clone... three clone... four clone...'
"Sephiroth!"
'Damn.'
"This is the end!"
He did so enjoy Chocobo Head's turns of phrase. Wonderfully melodramatic. He had a sneaking suspicion he got his lines from 'Heroism for Dummies'. It wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest. "You're right. This is the end of this body's usefulness."
'! No it isn't! I need a body to get around! Mother, you bitch!'
"He disappeared!"
"He might still be nearby…"
As far as Sephiroth himself was aware, he wasn't, but one of Jenova's misbegotten beasts of destruction was. And he couldn't see what was going on at all. Oh, this was just not fair. Not fair at all.
"Jenova's cells... ...hmm. So that's what this is all about. The Jenova Reunion..." Well, wasn't that obvious? Hadn't he said that, over and over? Why was he cursed with an utter dunce for a puppet? If he screwed up and Sephiroth was alive when Meteor still smashed into the earth he was going to kill him. Slowly, and excruciatingly painfully.
"Not Sephiroth? You mean all this time it wasn't Sephiroth we've been after?"
"I'll explain later. Right now, the only thing I'm thinking about is beating Sephiroth." He was so proud of the immense scope of his puppet's vision. It almost brought tears to his eyes.
"But Sephiroth is..." 'Alive? Dead? Unbelievably attractive? Living Mideel under an alias? In a padded cell?'
"He's here. The real Sephiroth is just beyond here. It's both incredibly wicked and cruel... But it's releasing a powerfully strong will from deep within this planet's wound." There were times when Chocobo Head had an insight that was almost enough to convince you he had an I.Q. ...Chocobo Head with brains. Now there was a terrifying thought.
"...The Black Materia is back in our hands. Now all we have to do is defeat Sephiroth and that'll be the end of it." Well there went that illusion. How could he possibly be quite so asinine as to believe that? It made it easier, to have someone of dubious intelligence as the protagonist, yes, but it was slowly driving him insane. He could probably have more intellectual conversations with an eight-year-old.
"We'd better not take the Black Materia any further. Why don't you give it to someone else to hold on to?" Dear god, Whiny Girl was a genius. There was a long silence, presumably while Chocobo Head muttered 'eeny meeny miney mo...' and ended up with, of all people, what was he called... the guy with the never misfiring, perpetually loaded machine gun arm.
"Damn, man! ...Pressure's on now." Sephiroth would have been quite happy to put him in a pressure cooker, but this was not the place, and so carefully marked it down as a possibility for future reference. He already had the Traitor Mog down for being run over with a steamroller. He imagined he'd appreciate the cartoonish aspect of it.
"Don't give it to ANYONE. I'm counting on you." It was going to be fun, he assured himself, this total annihilation of Chocobo Head's mind. Destroying beliefs always was. If he got the Black Materia back, so much the better.
"Let's find Sephiroth!"
'Welcome to my parlour,'
Said the spider to the fly.
This was going to be so much fun.
He'd quite liked Nibelheim, before he found Mother in the basement. After that it had just gone downhill. He'd never been too fond of the inhabitants anyway. He was incredibly impressed with the quality of illusion, although it would take more than thumbscrews to get him to admit it to Jenova. She hadn't been the kindest of mental manipulators in extracting the memory.
"Nibelheim..." Yes, his supposition had been proven correct. Whiny Girl was a genius.
"This is an illusion Sephiroth made up. He's trying to confuse us. It'll be all right. As long as we know it's an illusion, there's nothing to be afraid of. Come on, let's keep going." Where had his helpless, hopeless Chocobo Head gone? If he kept up this calming, brave-the-face-of-danger act Sephiroth might just mistake him for a real protagonist.
Loading characters… Sephiroth… SOLDIER… two cannon fodder. Complete.
"Cloud's not here..." Of course he was. There was one standing right next to them, and another hidden under a helmet. These people really ought to think before they opened their mouths.
"Stop... Sephiroth..."
"This is so stupid." Sephiroth frowned. It was not stupid. This was fun, fun, fun!
Changing scenery… Don't stand there, you'll be in the middle of a burning building when they can finally see you.
"Cloud... It's just an illusion... don't worry about it." Should he be happy or annoyed Whiny Girl had tagged along? It was torturing both at the same time for different reasons… that was good, wasn't it?
"What's next?"
Scenery loaded.
Had he been a more malicious man, he might have found something extremely funny in the way Whiny Girl's eyes widened and how she looked close to vomiting at seeing Nibelheim in flames once more. As it was, he found it merely vaguely entertaining. "Stop it already!" She did however, say the funniest of things. So funny, he might not kill her quickly after all. Begging for mercy had always amused him.
"...This is what actually happened five years ago. But... It's probably not me that's going to come out of the Shinra mansion. He's going to try and show us another stupid illusion. See... didn't I tell you?" Silly puppet. Since when had Sephiroth lied to him? Except in the matter of the true reason the planet was being destroyed, naturally.
"Hey, it's you! You're still sane, right?" Sephiroth stifled a snicker of pure amusement. Zack and the word 'sane' didn't usually frequent the same sentence together. "Then come over here and help me!"
"I don't want to watch this... Cloud... don't watch." Perhaps he should blind her. Then she wouldn't have to watch anything and ruin his entertainment.
"...What's wrong, Tifa? I told you before, right? As long as we know that it's just an illusion, there's no need to be scared." Poor, poor Chocobo Head. "Sephiroth! I know you're listening! I know what you want to say! That I wasn't in Nibelheim five years ago. That's it, isn't it?"
Well, no, not exactly, but close enough. "I see you finally understand." Now that was most definitely a lie. It wouldn't be fun at all if Chocobo head already understood what the illusions were meant to show him. No fun at all, and Sephiroth would have had to kill them all to make up for the lost entertainment.
"What you're trying to say is that you want to confuse me, right? But... even making me see those things won't affect me. I remember it all. The heat of the fire... the pain in my body... and in my heart!" Heart? He hadn't been aware Nibelheim had meant that much to him.
"Oh, is that so?" He'd received the distinct impression Chocobo Head had been extremely reluctant to visit. He frowned. Puppets didn't have feelings anyway. "You are just a puppet... You have no heart... and cannot feel any pain... How can there be any meaning in the memory of such a being? What I have shown you is reality. What you remember, that is the illusion. ...Do you understand?" Well, obviously the answer was going to be an emphatic 'no' but it never hurt to ask.
"I don't want to understand." Ah. That would explain it neatly, why Chocobo Head had been so resolutely ignorant when he tried to explain things. "But, I want to ask you one thing. Why... why are you doing this?"
'Haircut. Boredom. Mother. Amusement. The list is endless.' Let no one say Sephiroth didn't have a feel for knowing the right response to the right situation. "I want to take you back to your real self. The one who gave me the Black Materia that day... Who would have ever thought a failed experiment would prove so useful? Hojo would die if he knew." Because Hojo was an idiot. Sephiroth had long suspected that there'd never been a point to the experiments beside Hojo's own amusement, and the fact that he'd failed to realise the potential of his Puppet both annoyed and relieved him. Chocobo Head would have been even more useless if Hojo had persisted in trying to make him into another Clone. The thought of another drooling idiot in a black cape was enough to give him a mild breakdown.
"Hojo? What does he have to do with me?" Sephiroth understood the horror of that exclamation quite clearly. It was a terrifying thought, that Hojo was responsible for anything in your life. Worse if it was true.
"Five years ago you were..." He paused. "...constructed by Hojo, piece by piece, right after Nibelheim was burnt. A puppet made up of vibrant Jenova cells, her knowledge, and the power of the Mako. An incomplete Sephiroth-clone. Not even given a number. ...That is your reality." Perhaps it would have been more accurate to say 'reconstructed'. The original Chocobo Head would have been almost useless to use as a puppet after all. So what to do, when that was the only material available? Tear it down and rebuild it again. Usually, however, the subject was remade to be superior to previously, and Sephiroth had his doubts about this in regards to Chocobo Head.
"Cloud... Don't listen to him... Close your ears! Close your eyes!"
"What's wrong, Tifa? I'm not affected by it. ...I wasn't paying attention to him." Chocobo Head was going to give him an apoplexy one of these days. Not paying attention. To him!
"All that talk of Hojo constructing you is a lie. Don't we have our memories together?" Oh, that was hilarious. What memories together? "Being kids together, starlit nights..."
"... Tifa..." That was her name, was it? You learnt something new everyday in this business. He'd never imagined an ant could have a proper name. "Why are you so worried and scared by those words? Hmm. Shall I show everyone here what's in your heart?" Wasn't that obvious? He grinned wryly, chuckling with amusement at the look of horror on her face. "...You look like you're not feeling well." 'Sit down, relax, have some tea. Don't say another word though, you're helping my case admirably, and I'm sure that's not your intention.'
"...Tifa? Is Sephiroth right?"
'Of course I am!' Damn, it never took this long with real Clones to explain that he knew best.
Chocobo Head frowned. "Why are you so scared? Don't worry about me. I'm all right. No matter how confused I am, I'll never believe a word that Sephiroth says." Wonderful. The perks of being someone's role model seemed to have vanished in recent years. What good was it, if you couldn't use your position in their esteem to make them believe anything that you said? Sephiroth sighed heavily, earning himself a glare from Chocobo Head before he continued, "It's true that sometimes I can't figure out who I am. There's a lot of things muddled up in my memories. But, Tifa... But you said 'Long time no see, Cloud' right? Those words will always support me. I am the one you grew up with. I'm Cloud of Nibelheim. No matter how much I lose faith in myself, that is the truth. That's why you shouldn't be so scared. No matter what anyone else says to me, it's your attitude that counts..." God, was his puppet a screwed up thing. He really was going to have to fix him, if there was to be any chance of him killing Jenova.
If Chocobo Head had been any good whatsoever at reading body language and the silent messages women were prone to give with their eyes, he might have realised something was terribly wrong as the girl struggled valiantly with what to say. "No, that's not true, Cloud..." she said at last, desperately, clearly wishing she could be anywhere but facing that terrifying look of puzzlement he knew the boy was making.
"What's not? Aren't I the same Cloud you grew up with?" That was what wasn't true, because of course, they hadn't really grown up together at all, any more than Sephiroth had grown with a loving family and a childhood sweetheart, and therefore all trust in that connection was misplaced. Call it omnipotence, if you like. Or perhaps he was just exceptionally good at reading the situation. Why did he even bother trying to explain these things when he was so clearly being ignored?
"That's not what I mean... I don't know how to say it... Cloud, I need some time... Just give me a little time..." To say what? 'I'm sorry, but I've been lying to you all along: I know you weren't at Nibelheim five years ago – I was there at the gate and I would have seen you, dammit – and I haven't said anything because…'? She was a silent accomplice in Chocobo Head's delusions…
So use it against her.
Tear it down; build it back up. He had, of course, learned from a master in taking things apart.
"Cloud... Don't blame Tifa. The ability to change one's looks, voice, and words, is the power of Jenova. Inside of you, Jenova has merged with Tifa's memories, creating you. Out of Tifa's memory... A boy named Cloud might've just been a part of them." Yes, he was, a little boy with hair like a electrocuted porcupine who lived next door. And no doubt the two of them would end up having 2.5 children (he'd be responsible for the .5 bit, being quite happy to halve any offspring) and a wonderful marriage, despite the monumental psychological problems of one and quiet compliance to such delusions of the other. What the children would learn, growing up in such an environment, he shuddered to think. He was sure Aeris would have made a better wife, if she'd had the chance. The woman had dated Zack and managed to get him to be serious about it – she could handle anything.
You're getting off-track again.
'Yes, Maman.'
"Cloud… please don't think right now."
Chocobo Head? Think? This called for one of those maniacal laughs. "Think, Cloud?" Without his brain, shorting out? A miracle. "…Cloud? Oh, excuse me, you never had a name…" Well, not in Sephiroth's opinion, until he'd decided to christen his favourite puppet, pet and idiot 'Chocobo Head'.
"Shut up... Sephiroth."
"You still don't understand?" His patience was wearing thin. His throat hurt. And still the boy steadfastly refused to break. Happy as he was that his puppet had such wellsprings of self-denial, it was beginning to annoy him. That was never a good sign. "Then... Do you remember the picture that we took before we headed for Mt. Nibel? ...Tifa, you remember, right? But there is no way he would know. Now... what happened to that picture?" He made a show of looking around, before walking over to the photographer he'd taken such pleasure in gutting. "...is this it? ...Do you want to see it? It turned out pretty good." Sycophants. Why did they always manage to take a good photo?
"Cloud... don't..." If he had to hear another high-pitched whine of 'Cloud... don't...' so help him, he was going to kill her.
Chocobo Head chewed his lip nervously, eyes glued to the photo. "I... should be in the picture. Even if I'm not in there, no worry. This is just an illusory world Sephiroth made up." Sooner or later, the boy had to run out of rationalisations. He could only fool himself so far.
'...Wherever Zack is, I hope he finds this farce amusing, because I'm losing patience.'
He watched the blond's expression closely as he looked at the photograph. Any moment now that façade would falter… "...Just as I thought. This picture's a fake. The truth is in my memory." Damn it all, how could one person be so stubborn! "...Five years ago, I came back to Nibelheim, to inspect the reactor. I was sixteen. The town hadn't changed at all. What did I do...? Oh yeah... I spent the night and went to the reactor in Mt. Nibel. I was excited about it. Because that was my first mission after becoming First Class in SOLDIER." That was going just a little too far. There was a momentary lapse in the connections in his brain. Sephiroth could almost see the error sign flash in front of the blue eyes. Now this was better. "...SOLDIER, First Class? ...SOLDIER? When did I enter SOLDIER?" Much better. "How did I join SOLDIER? Why... why can't I remember? I'm... I'm... That's right...I didn't have to worry about it, because I was..."
"...Cloud?" His hand strayed to the hilt of the Masamune, but no 'don't' was uttered, so he let the opportunity pass with a regretful sigh.
"Let's go, Tifa. I'm... I'm all right."
'Chaos, panic and disorder. My work here is done.'
Barret had been tapping his foot impatiently (well, he liked to think it was impatient, but everyone else knew it was nervous). "Are Cloud and the others awright? But what's up with that? One little piece of materia, destroying the planet..."
First things first… let's take out the extras.
"What the...? The hell was that? H-huh? Hey... Guys! Where are we? Where did we end up?"
Dolt. Couldn't he see they weren't there? Or… they weren't as far as he was concerned. Now… who would he believe most to come running?
The girl.
He was afraid of that. It was the most logical choice, after all. They were close, weren't, they? And nobody else would be so ridiculously concerned about Chocobo Head's welfare as to run away and get help. But...
Stop stalling just because you'll no longer be able to tease the puppet about dressing in drag.
'Ugh. Fine. …what's his name?'
… Barret.
Worried face. She'd have that worried, ashen face she always wore when Chocobo Head reached one of his mini-meltdowns. He breathed in deeply, savouring the last few nanoseconds he had before he debased himself completely in the name of destroying the world.
And… action!
'Oh, very funny.'
"Barret, you're here! I'm so glad!"
"Tifa! Something's weird here. It got pitch black all of a sudden, and everyone disappeared!" Well done, Captain Obvious. Evidently Chocobo Head had picked those of similar or even lower intelligence to himself. ...why had Whiny Girl never complained about the attire? He was freezing! The woman had to be a masochist – not content pining after Chocobo Head she had to freeze while she was doing it, the silly girl.
Oh for-
"Everyone's waiting! Cloud's in trouble! Please come. Help us! Over there!" Stupid lines. Stupid clothes. He was never going to live this down.
"Yea... yeah! I don't know what's goin' on," Oh, big surprise, "but let's just get on with it."
Sephiroth watched him out of sight, his mind promising a very bloody vengeance upon Jenova and all those he felt to be responsible for his current situation. "... And remember..." Please god, let there never be a situation where he had to morph into a scantily-clad, well-endowed woman in arctic conditions again. "...the Black Materia!"
"Mr. President... I've got a bad feeling about this place..." Scarlet, having bad feelings about a place? Hm. That must mean it would be no good for tryst. What a terrible shame for her. Well, there were immensely powerful creatures designed to destroy everything in the walls; maybe that had something to do with it.
"Hmm... maybe we should go back to our ship now. We need to prepare for the inspection anyway."
Something was most definitely missing... Now what was it...?
The Puppet, you fool!
Shit. Stupid puppet, couldn't walk fast in a straight line! Stupid little...!
"Hey! Where did you come from?"
"...don't know..." Earth-shattering news. Chocobo Head didn't know! "This place is going to get rough. Better leave things to me and get out of here while you still can."
"Leave things to you? Hmph... I don't know what you mean." Wasn't it obvious, Rufus? Translation: This is none of your business. Go away. Well... Sephiroth's version was slightly more profanely worded, but he imagined that was the gist of what Chocobo Head was saying.
"This is where the Reunion is happening. Where everything begins and ends." As he'd said before: an insight almost enough to be mistaken for intelligence. He paused, watching the Whiny Girl's response to the little Reunion statement.
Up until this point in time, Sephiroth had never seen a practical function for Silence, except to infuriate Shinra officials who wanted a full complement of fingers and toes and so never accused him. But thank all-merciful god for mute spells for Whiny Girl. He couldn't stand another five seconds punctuated by her voice. So as she desperately wailed, "Cloud!" he turned his attention back to the problem of materia of the world-destroying kind. Now, the Materia was held by the black guy, who might just need a nudge to hand it over…
"Hey! We're here to help you!"
"Thanks... Barret. Where's the Black Materia?"
"Cloud!" 'Shout all you like, he can't hear you.' He was having trouble controlling the very childish urge to stick his tongue out at her, even if she couldn't see it.
"It's safe. I have it." Yes, that was really safe. Honestly, these people were hopeless.
"I'll take it from here. Give me the ... Black Materia."
He kept an eye on Whiny Girl the entire time, watching the puzzlement and confusion gradually give way to fear… who would have thought a Silence spell could be such fun? "You can't hear my voice?" …Sherlock was evidently in no danger from Whiny Girl's razor sharp intuition.
"You alright?" What difference did that make exactly? And since when had Chocobo Head been 'alright'? Hadn't they noticed something in his brain was wired wrong? Some friends they were. "Okay then, here. Had a lot of pressure holding this thing." Oh yes, the pressure cooker. He'd almost forgotten that. Better write it down before he forgot again. He'd pulled the list out absently and added it after his name. Two methods decided…
"No! Don't! Please stop Cloud!" When would she get the point? And it was going to be slice and dice for her, most definitely.
"Thanks. ...leave the rest to me."
Sephiroth had never argued with Chocobo Head in his mind before, and it was unsettling, to say the least. It was also not something he personally wanted to repeat – it meant he got a true picture of what Chocobo Head was feeling and thinking, and that wasn't fair. Sephiroth was a very fair person, so long as things went eventually in his favour. Fine. Chocobo Head could give his apologies, so long as he solemnly swore that at some unspecified point in the future he'd kill Hojo.
"Everyone, thanks for everything. And... I'm sorry." A respectful, if tired, nod to Rufus and coterie. "...Sorry." Another to his own group. "...Sorry. Especially you, Tifa. I'm really sorry. You've been so good to me... I don't know what to say... I never lived up to being 'Cloud'." It was funny, how even though he could apologise extensively to her, he could do it without ever really looking at her. Or it would have been, if Sephiroth hadn't been more concerned with savouring the beautiful images of Hojo's horrifically messy demise. "Tifa... Maybe one day you'll meet the real 'Cloud'." His attention snapped back to the blond. Oh dear. He'd clearly misinterpreted something there.
Hojo did something Sephiroth had heard rarely, and always hid in the wake of. He laughed. Even the Weapon in the wall shuddered. "This is perfect! It means that my experiment was a complete success." Well, there was always a first time for everything, Sephiroth supposed. "What number were you? Huh? Where is your tattoo?"
"Professor Hojo... I don't have a number. You didn't give me one because you said I was a failed experiment."
"What the-? You mean only a failure made it here?" What was he talking about? Chocobo Head was the only success.
"Professor... please give me a number. Please, Professor..." Damn. He really had broken him.
You should be more careful with your toys. Bring him up here, it'll give Hojo time for plot exposition.
Well, he couldn't have wanted to stay around Hojo longer than five seconds anyway. And even if by some highly illogical chance he did, Sephiroth didn't want him to stay longer than five seconds around Hojo.
"Who... was that?" Maybe Rufus and Chocobo Head really were related. They shared the same memory span after all. Hadn't they fought on the roof shortly after President Shinra had… expired? Of course, he couldn't be sure, the world had already narrowed down by that point to the bottom of a shot glass…
"He's a Sephiroth clone I created after the real Sephiroth died five years ago."
'Died? I beg to disagree.'
"Jenova cells and Mako, with my knowledge and skills, have been combined with science and nature to bring him to life. ...I'm not wild about the failure part, but the Jenova Reunion Theory has now been proven. You see, even if Jenova's body is dismembered, it will eventually become one again. That's what is meant by Jenova's Reunion to start. Five years have passed, and now the Clones have begun to return. I thought the Clones would begin to gather at Midgar where Jenova is stored. But my predictions were not entirely correct. Jenova itself began to move away from the Shinra Building. But being a genius that I am –" Sephiroth somehow managed to choke on his own tongue, "– I soon figured it out. You see it was all Sephiroth's doing. Sephiroth is not just content to diffuse his will into the Lifestream; he wants to manipulate the Clones itself."
Chocobo Head seemed to think about it for a moment, tilting his head back, and hugging his knees even closer to his chest. "Yes, that was how it got started."
Seemingly deaf to anything but his own voice, Hojo blithely continued. "I wondered where the clones were going, but I was never able to figure it out."
The Chocobo Head nodded in agreement as he stood up, somehow failing to notice he was standing on the ceiling. "I couldn't figure it out, either." Well, no great surprises there, on both counts, what with Hojo being – how had Rufus put it? – a second rate scientist (although a first-rate torturer) and Chocobo Head being… well, Chocobo Head.
"The one thing that I did know was that Sephiroth was at their final destination." It really took a genius to work that one out, did it?
It was quite amazing how Chocobo Head managed to follow Hojo's reasoning. Why was he not capable of that when Sephiroth was talking? He only supposed that this was irrefutable proof the boy had been driven mad. "I wasn't pursuing Sephiroth. I was being summoned by Sephiroth. All the anger and hatred I bore him, made it impossible for me to ever forget him. That and what he gave me."
"..." Sometimes... sometimes even Sephiroth could be confused when it came to the Puppet.
"Sephiroth? I'm here. And I brought you the Black Materia. Show yourself to me. Where are you? Sephiroth... So we finally meet again."
'…A pleasure to meet you, at last' He might have been disturbed by the similarities to his first meeting with Mother, if he had actually been able to recall it.
Don't move, you'll fall-
"Did you see it! It's Sephiroth! So he IS here! This is perfect! Both Jenova's Reunion and Sephiroth's will! They won't be diffused into the Lifestream, but gathered here!" Another bout that special Hojo-brand maniacal laughter, that kind could drive hardened SOLDIERs whimpering to their mothers, and often did – anyone in their right mind would rather face Sephiroth in a temper than Hojo in laughter.
-through the materia structure.
"What are you so happy about, Professor? You know what this means, don't you? Cloud has the Black Materia! Sephiroth is going to summon Meteor! Every single person is going to die!" Damn. The Silence spell had worn off. Damn. And he couldn't move anymore, so he couldn't replace it.
He'd been mistaken all these years – this was torture.
'Mother, this is a little off-topic… this is my real body, correct? … what exactly happened to my legs?'
Ah. Well…
"Whatever I say is too little... too late... We must evacuate. I want you all to come with me. There is still much more I want to hear."
They… it takes a long time for a body to be repaired after dissolving in mako and being put back together in a completely different location.
'This is where the Lifestream is strongest. Shouldn't it be easier here?'
Um… no.
"Yo! Cloud! Knock it off!" The day with the pressure cooker and the Mr. T wannabe couldn't come soon enough.
'…You've just been lying through your figurative teeth, haven't you?'
…yes.
"Cloud-!" And any second now would come the pained wail of 'noooooooooo!' Five… four… yes, thank you for the Black Materia, wonderful job… three… two…whoa, those Weapons were even bigger than he'd thought they were… one… any second now…
"Oh, shit!"
Close enough.