Chapter 20
Intersection

"Where is she?" Vincent demanded.

He stood with Cloud and Tifa in Rufus Shinra's spacious office, outwardly cool and collected yet swirling with rage inside. As always, Vincent could feel the presence of the inner beast within him, more so now due to his mood. Whether he was more angry at the Turks or at himself, however, he did not know.

The journey to Healin Lodge, where Rufus and the Turks were based, had been an obvious one to make and little discussion had been necessary to decide upon it. Cid had pushed the Shera as fast as he could, but Reno's chopper had long since vanished over the horizon, and Ellone with it. Vincent had hoped to find her here in Healin, but once again he had been too late. She was gone. And it was all because of him.

Rufus sat comfortably behind his desk, utterly calm. "She's not here. I handed her over to Gravheine not long ago."

"What?" Vincent's eyes blazed.

"We had an arrangement, you understand."

Cloud grimaced. "You gave her Ellone, but what did she give you, Rufus? Why'd you help her out and risk pissing us off?"

"For this," Rufus answered, rising to his feet.

He walked around the desk and stood before them, not a hint of regret showing in his eyes, and at first, Vincent didn't understand. But then he realized what Rufus had just done. What he shouldn't have been able to do. Vincent had noticed the wheelchair's conspicuous absence upon entering the room but hadn't understood why until now.

It was Tifa who spoke first. "You walked! Did she do that?"

"Yes," Rufus nodded. "I honestly did not want to cross you, but I'd have done anything to be whole again. My apologies for the trouble it's caused you."

"Tell us what happened to Ellone," Cloud glared.

Rufus shrugged. "I've no reason not to. It's my guess that Gravheine took her back to wherever it is she came from. She never told me where that was, though."

"Her world," Vincent mused. "We have to go there."

"How?" Tifa asked.

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know."

"I think I do," Cloud said. He flipped open his phone and dialed. "Cid? Get the ship ready. We're heading back north."

Vincent looked at him blankly, but not doubting his friend was on to something. And if there was any chance it might somehow lead to getting Ellone back, Vincent would take it. Even though he'd only known her for a few days, he had gotten used to her gentle presence around him, and now it seemed almost strange to not have her near.

Tifa was looking at Cloud curiously. "Why there?"

"Just a hunch," he answered, "but I'm sure it's right. I have to try, Tif. Ellone saved you and Marlene, so I'm gonna do everything I can to return the favor."

Stuffing his phone back in his pocket, Cloud turned and headed out the door, Tifa trailing behind him. Vincent lingered a moment longer, however, waiting until his friends had stepped out and motioning to them to go on ahead. He wanted a word alone with the president. As soon as the others were out of sight, Vincent whirled around, seized Rufus by the neck with the claws of his bronze gauntlet, and slammed him against the wall.

"Pray no harm comes to Ellone," he hissed, "or you'll need more than a wheelchair to recover from what I will do to you."

Vincent squeezed Rufus' neck for just a moment and then let go, deliberately dragging his claw across the front to poke through the skin and leave a tiny bead of blood behind. Rufus staggered to his feet, touching his neck gingerly and blinking as he saw his fingertip come away red. Vincent turned away, but halfway to the door he paused as Rufus spoke.

"You really care for her, don't you?" he marveled softly.

Vincent left without answering.

----------

Tying the laces of her black sneakers, Rinoa stood and figured she was as ready as she could be. Dr. Kadowaki had finally released her from the infirmary, so Rinoa had come here to the quarters she shared with Squall to prepare for the mission ahead of her and to have a moment alone before it began. She doubted she would get another for some time.

The tears had come almost before the door had finished closing, and for just a moment Rinoa had let herself go. Squall and Matron had told her about the attack. How could this have happened? Why was she still alive when so many others weren't? Guilt gnawed at her, but Rinoa fought it down. She couldn't let it overwhelm her. Still, it was so hard to believe that Selphie and Nida and dear old Cid were gone.

It was like in the vision she'd had, that terrible foreboding that had come to her just prior to the attack. Everyone around her, dying or dead, killed by the Serpent's wrath. It had already begun. But she wasn't going to let it continue. Rinoa blinked away the last of her tears and let out a slow, determined breath as her gaze tightened. She had work to do, and a friend in need.

"I'm coming, Elle," she murmured. "Just hold on."

The memories that had come to Matron had come to Rinoa as well, though it was difficult to make much sense of them. Yet there was something else, too, power she hadn't felt before. Rinoa reached up to take her Angel Wing razor wheel from the wall, then paused. No, that wasn't right. Her weapons were within, now.

Clad as usual in black and light blue, Rinoa made her way to the door. It hissed open before she got there, and she saw Squall was waiting for her on the other side. But not alone. Angelo bounded in and nearly bowled her over, still excited over her recovery. Rinoa smiled, ruffled the dog's fur, and looked up at Squall.

"I'm ready," she said.

He nodded. "Then let's go. Matron's waiting for us."

Rinoa patted Angelo once more, rose, and followed Squall through their living area to the main door of their quarters. As she and her fiancée—it was still hard to believe he had actually, finally asked her—headed outside and through the Garden's quiet halls, Rinoa snuck another glance at the ring on her finger. It was beautiful, and she loved it. And she wasn't going to let anything happen to the man who had given it to her. Or her friends.

She and Squall met Matron and Irvine at the upstairs exit which was little more than a wide balcony extending from the side of the Garden. The skies of Balamb, normally blue and cheerful, now were gray and overcast, so dark they were almost black. Rinoa shivered. She hated thunderstorms. They had always scared her half to death when she had been a little girl, and while she wasn't overly afraid now, she did feel uneasy. The sight of her friends helped somewhat, though.

Rinoa hugged Irvine tight for a moment. "I'm so sorry about Selphie. I miss her, too."

"Thanks, Rinoa. Glad to see you're back with us."

"We're gonna finish this, right?" she smiled. "For everyone we've lost."

Irvine nodded. "Yeah. You bet."

Letting go of her friend, Rinoa hugged Matron as well before stepping close to Squall again. Her hand unconsciously found his almost at once. At least he would be with her, and she with him. Rinoa wouldn't have wanted it any other way. They had faced dangers together before, and so they would again. But as long as Squall was at her side, Rinoa wouldn't be afraid.

She turned to Matron. "It's time."

"You know what you must do?" she asked gently.

"Yes. I can get the three of us there, but… I don't think I have the strength to get us back. At least not right away. It's going to take a lot out of me."

Matron didn't seem surprised. "Your power is new to you, Rinoa. So at first its use will prove difficult and tiring. But you must endure. As it was sorceress power that stopped Seddhira before, so it must do so again. That and Ellone's power together are what will end this. You have no further need of weapons, Rinoa. Your power will be your strength. Few sorceresses ever manage to tap its true potential, but it is awakening within you now. Use it well."

"I will," Rinoa promised. "Thank you, Matron."

"What do we do?" Squall asked.

Rinoa motioned to him and to Irvine. "Hold on to me, and don't let go until I tell you."

Both men did so, each taking a shoulder, and their closeness brought Rinoa comfort. She met Matron's reassuring gaze for a moment and then let her eyes slide closed as she fell into herself, feeling the fire within, the light. It welled up within her, warming her skin like the hot baths she always liked to take. Had she opened her eyes, she would have seen that she was glowing, the power radiating out from her in waves like an aura.

It coalesced into a pair of soft, feathered wings that seemed to sprout from her back in a haze of light. Normally they disappeared after a few moments, but now they did not. They were solid and yet somehow not, shimmering like a mirage as they spread out wide to envelop Rinoa and her two companions. The angel wings glowed with white light that pierced even Rinoa's closed eyelids. All she was aware of was the light and the gentle pressure of her friends' hands on her shoulders. Her own fingers reached up to clasp theirs.

She held them tight as the world spun away.

----------

Ellone knew where she was even before she and Gravheine had finished emerging from whatever shadowy rift had brought them here. The ceaseless hum of computers and equipment and the sterile, artificial quality of the air were all too familiar. It was a place she had been to once before, long ago, and one she had hoped never to see again.

"Velcome back, Ellone," a familiar voice greeted her.

She wasn't all that surprised to see Dr. Odine waiting expectantly in the midst of his lab. While most of the experiments he had done upon her when she was a child had been performed at his second research complex within the actual city of Esthar, he had brought her here to this other facility from time to time for more involved procedures.

"What's going on, Dr. Odine?" Ellone asked. "Why are you helping Gravheine?"

"To reclaim zat vich Laguna stole from me, ze power I vonce held under Sorceress Adel. And to complete my research. "

"Research on what?"

Odine smiled humorlessly. "Vy, you, of course."

Ellone's eyes widened. "No!"

She backed away, trying to tear herself away from Gravheine's grasp, but the woman's grip was like an iron vise. Ellone knew where Odine was going to take her, what he was going to do to her—her memories of this place had haunted her to this day—and her heart jackhammered in her chest even as she tried hopelessly to comprehend Odine's betrayal.

Pain suddenly shot through Ellone's chest, a flare of agony deeper than the steady ache she had become used to. She could feel it in her shoulders and down to her hips, though it throbbed worst at the site of her wound. Again the memories flashed through her mind in an instant like some hellish slideshow, but all she could do was grit her teeth against the pain.

"Vat is ze matter vith her?" Odine frowned.

Gravheine shook her head. "I am not certain. But she is yours, as promised."

"Very good," he motioned to a few other figures in lab coats that Ellone hadn't noticed before. "Take her to ze testing chamber. I vish to begin immediately."

"Wai—!" Ellone began, but she never finished.

A sharp, stinging pain suddenly erupted on the side of her neck. A needle. Odine was pulling it away from her even now. A sedative. Ellone's eyes grew heavy, but she was able to keep them open long enough to realize she was being dragged away, dragged back into the prison Uncle Laguna had fought so hard to save her from.

Ellone tried to scream, but darkness took her first.

----------

When Odine's assistants and their captive were gone, Gravheine turned her amber gaze to the little scientist. "Are your preparations complete?"

"Yes, my lady. Ve are ready to move ze sarcophagus from its resting place beneath Odin's tower to ze Sorceress Memorial."

"Very good. I will be there shortly."

Odine bowed. "As you vish. Have you ze key zat you mentioned before?"

In answer, Gravheine reached into the folds of her robes and withdrew the dark orb that was the black materia. "Of course. And the crystal?"

"See for yourself, my lady."

He motioned to the rear of the chamber, and Gravheine moved to the bank of computers that dominated that side of the room. The main viewscreen was still filled with diagrams and equations, but they weren't what drew Gravheine's attention. The nearly dozen small glass cylinders that had rested all in a row along the back wall were gone. In their place there was only one, slightly larger than its predecessors. And within it hovered the crystal.

Gravheine smiled coldly. "At last…"

She reached out, opened the cylinder, and carefully took the crystal in her hands. Its glittering facets caught and reflected the light, and while its power was not so great now as it had once been in the days of its crafting, the crystal was still potent. It was complete. So much time, so many years spent finding the lost lore that would enable her to locate the tombs and their hidden secrets. Manipulating history to bring their rediscovery about and free the dark orb from its prison once more. And to destroy the last of her people, the ones who had wounded her so deeply, who had taken everything from her.

"Ze crystal is assembled, as you can see. Ve have done it!"

"Do not celebrate yet," Gravheine warned. "This is merely a step toward our larger goal. However, it is a significant one. And I have not forgotten your help."

She slipped the crystal into her robes and sent H'soth a mental command. He slithered out obediently to wrap himself around her arm and shoulder even as she moved to a nearby table littered with vials and beakers and other assorted scientific materials. Gravheine ignored Odine's nervous twitch at H'soth's appearance and instead took a petri dish from the table and held it before her expectantly. H'soth understood at once.

Weaving down her arm until his head hovered over her hand and the dish lying open on her palm, H'soth bared his fangs and spat out the blood he had taken from Rufus Shinra. The blood tainted with the cells of the calamity. H'soth finished, flicking his forked tongue in and out and gazing at Odine with dark amusement. Though the viper couldn't express his thoughts as a human could, Gravheine could sense them well enough. She sent H'soth back into her robes and handed the petri dish to Odine.

He looked at it with uncertain fascination. "Vat is zis?"

"Blood, Odine. Tainted blood. Within it lie the cells of an ancient organism, a calamity I summoned to this planet long ago to wipe out my kin. She was only too happy to oblige. Although she is dead now, her cells still retain much of her power. Power you can use. I trust you can discover how."

Odine gazed at the blood with undisguised greed. "Ah, yes. I vill find zier secrets. Ze host creature, did it have a name?"

"Jenova."

"Excellent. I vill analyze zis and ze girl at ze same time! Zere is nothing Odine cannot do! And ven ze Garden brats come, ze vill be in for a shock."

Gravheine nodded. "Good. Be ready when I return."

As she stepped back and allowed herself to fade into the shadows, Gravheine decided she wouldn't go to the tower just yet. There was one other matter that needed tending to first. She had felt Heartilly's power wake, sensed it as it had breached the boundary. No doubt she was on the other side by now. And if Heartilly and her friends were to somehow meet up with Strife's group, that would make things difficult.

That was something Gravheine was not going to allow.

----------

Vincent stood alone on the Shera's rear observation deck as the airship sped north. Through the viewports ahead of him, he could see the land unfolding below him as the Shera left it behind, a vast, sprawling carpet of trees climbing the barren gray peaks of the northern mountains. A thin line of blue on the horizon was all Vincent could see of the ocean, and even that was fast slipping out of sight beneath the afternoon sky.

Yet his thoughts were far from the scenery. In his hands, Vincent held Ellone's bladestaff, the intricate scrollwork as dark and silent as his mood. Rufus' last words lingered in his mind and would not leave. Why did they disturb him so? Vincent couldn't say. Of course he cared about Ellone—she was a friend. But was that all he felt for her? Maybe. But then, why did he feel as though a part of himself were missing, a part that wouldn't return to him until she did? Why did the mere thought of Ellone make his heart beat so much faster?

"Everything okay?" a voice asked from behind him.

Vincent didn't turn. "As it can be, Tifa."

"We'll get her back," she assured him, moving to stand at his side. She looked him and smiled softly. "You care about her a lot, don't you?"

"She is my friend."

Tifa raised an eyebrow. "Is that all?"

Was it? Vincent sighed but didn't respond. He wasn't sure what he would say if he did. The last time he had felt anything like this, it had ended badly. He didn't want Ellone to suffer Lucrecia's fate, but neither could he ignore the strength of his feelings. And he knew damn well that Lucrecia would have wanted him to move on, to not be alone, to really live again. His friendship with Shelke over the last few years had helped, but the former Deepground agent had eventually gone her own way, although she still kept in touch when she could.

Vincent looked at the bladestaff, all he had left of Ellone. "I don't know."

"How does she make you feel?" Tifa prodded gently.

"Alive, Tifa. Human."

Tifa patted his shoulder. "Then go to her, Vincent. Tell her."

"I can't."

"Why not?" Tifa asked.

Vincent's gaze returned to the viewport and the panorama unfolding below the ship. "The beast within me. Ellone knows nothing of it, nothing of my past, of what I am. How do you think she would react, Tifa, if she found out?"

"She trusts you. I don't think that would change."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Tifa took his shoulder more firmly, turning him to face her. Her brown eyes locked onto his russet ones. "Stop hiding in your past, Vincent. I thought you got over all this years ago after that mess with the Deepground."

"So did I," Vincent agreed.

"Do you love her?" Tifa asked quietly.

Vincent pulled himself free of Tifa's grasp and looked away. "How can I? I've only known her for a matter of days."

"So? It can still be real."

"Even if that were true, Ellone may not feel as I do."

Tifa smiled wryly. "Oh, I don't think you have anything to worry about."

What did she mean by that? How could she be so sure? Vincent wanted to be reassured by her words, but doubt gnawed at him. And her question lingered in his mind. Did he love Ellone? Or was he just chasing shadows? He thought of her hair, soft and short and brown, and her eyes, gentle eyes that had looked upon him with nothing but friendship. Vincent thought of that first moment he had met her, when she had quite literally fallen into his arms. Had he known, even then? Were such things possible?

"I don't want to lose her, Tifa," Vincent murmured, "as I lost Lucrecia."

"I know. But you shouldn't let that stop you from treasuring the time you do have with her, however much or little it may be."

Vincent supposed she was right, but he still wondered how any woman could love a man like him. His eyes drifted down to his clawed gauntlet, the bronze sheath he'd worn over his left arm for so long. He rarely took it off, even to sleep—over the years he had almost forgotten it was just an ornate glove. Vincent thought of what it might be like to touch Ellone's cheek, to take her hand in his and just hold it for a while.

"Hold this for a moment," he said, handing Tifa the bladestaff.

She took it, her eyes warm as she watched Vincent take a breath and let it out in one long, slow exhalation as though expelling some inner demon. He felt that way, too, although he still wasn't certain how or if he could express to Ellone what was in his heart. But he was going to save her, that much was certain. Vincent had no doubt of that. With his good hand, he reached up to his other elbow and pulled off the bronze gauntlet.

It slid off more easily than he had expected, and beneath it his bare skin tingled. Vincent flexed the fingers of his left hand experimentally, not used to seeing them uncovered by the claw. But perhaps it was time he allowed himself to take back some of the humanity Hojo had stolen from him so long ago. Vincent reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew the sheaf of papers he had taken from Tifa's basement, the reports Dr. Gast had written and which might contain the means for finally taming the beast within him.

"Is it possible?" he wondered.

Tifa nodded confidently. "We'll find a way."

----------

Stumbling forward as though pushed in the back by some invisible hand, Squall found himself suddenly crunching through snow up to his ankles. He blinked, uncertain of his surroundings, and looked around for Rinoa and Irvine. They were both beside him, Rinoa close and Irvine on her other side. The glow surrounding Rinoa was fading fast, and she would have fallen had Squall not caught her in time.

"You okay?" he asked.

She managed a weary smile. "I'll be fine. Just… took a lot out of me, that's all…"

"So, like, where are we?" Irvine drawled.

Squall looked at his surroundings for the first time. He and the others had emerged in the mountains somewhere, fairly high up given the snow and the bitter cold. Evergreens towered overhead, their branches dusted with whiteness. The sky was sullen and gloomy, the tattered remnants of what must have been a vicious storm floating away to the south, but to the north Squall could just make out the welcoming yellow glow that could come from a town. It was far off, but not so distant as to be unreachable.

Checking to make sure his gunblade was still on his belt, Squall shrugged. "I don't have the slightest idea. But there's a town up there. Let's do some checking."

He set Rinoa on her feet and headed up the ridge, motioning for the others to follow and wishing he had thought to bring some cold weather gear. The wind nipped at his ears and fingers with sharp, hungry teeth. It had to be worse for Rinoa, though—clad in a pale blue sleeveless top and black shorts, she shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Like Squall and Irvine, she hadn't anticipated winding up in a place like this.

"It's f-f-freezing out here!" Rinoa said between chattering teeth.

Squall slowed so she could catch up to him, then slipped an arm around her shoulder. It wasn't much, but it would do until they got to the town and found some warmer clothes. She was just smiling her thanks when something sleek and gray and metal suddenly roared past overhead. Squall looked up, watching as the vessel—that had to have been what it was—sped north, fast disappearing behind the peaks of the mountains.

"The hell was that?" Irvine wondered.

Squall looked after it thoughtfully. "An airship of some kind. Rinoa?"

"Yeah, I th-think so, t-t-too."

"Whatever it is, it looks like it's in one hell of a hurry," Irvine said. His eyes suddenly lit up. "Hey, guys, are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

Squall nodded."It's as good a lead as any."

Trying as best he could to ignore the cold biting at him through the fabric of his gray t-shirt, Squall moved on, Rinoa close by his side and Irvine trailing just a little behind. Wrapped in his long brown trenchcoat and cowboy hat, Irvine was the least affected by the weather, though his breath steamed out in front him in little puffs.

Squall paused suddenly, his eyes narrowing as the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand up. He looked back the way he and the others had come, but there was nothing save the trees and the snow and the occasional half-buried slab of rock. Yet even so, Squall could have sworn something was out there. He didn't know what, but his warrior's instincts told him he and the others weren't alone.

"What is it?" Rinoa asked.

Squall shook his head. "I don't know. Something's not right."

Irvine shifted his rifle into both hands and panned the area with his deep green eyes. Finally, he shook his head. "I don't see anything. But, like, I know what you mean, Squall. I'm feelin' the same thing. And I don't like it."

"Let's keep moving," Squall replied, "but stay alert."

With one last, uneasy look around, Squall sighed and went on, leading the others up the ridge to the promising golden glow of the town somewhere higher up. Smells of moss and evergreen lingered in the air, and Squall felt his legs start to ache as the slope steepened and the miles wore on. The settlement was farther away than he had at first thought. They'd get there before dusk, though, he was sure.

Squall didn't want to think about what would happen if they didn't.

----------

Sitting in sullen silence on the front porch of his house after Cloud and the others had dropped him, Layla, and Marlene off just a few minutes ago, Denzel pulled his jacket tighter around him and wondered if he'd made a mistake sneaking on board the airship. He was home, to be sure, although to tell the truth he had never considered Icicle to be home. Edge had been home, even as crowded and loud as it had become over the last few years. Denzel supposed the quiet up here was nice, but did it always have to be so cold?

"It's beautiful here," Layla said.

Denzel supposed she was right, in a way, but then he thought he would agree with her if she said day was night. Though her light brown hair was still pulled back in those two ponytails she liked to wear, Layla wasn't the little girl he'd met on the streets of Edge so long ago. Like him, she had grown up. She looked a lot more like the teenager she was without that stuffed moogle she used to carry around all the time, although she still had it back home in Cosmo Canyon. Denzel loved to tease her about it.

Then again, he often teased her about whatever he could think of. When he did, he didn't feel quite so shy around her, which was stupid because he never used to feel that way before. When had things changed? Maybe, Denzel thought, it was when she had started looking less like a kid. Layla's body possessed more curves now than he remembered, her chest no longer flat but instead adorned with the gentle bumps of her breasts, and her arms and legs were slim and shapely. Layla's lips were full and her eyes pretty, and whenever she smiled his way, Denzel felt so light and fluttery that he thought he might float like a balloon.

He shrugged and replied, his voice caught in that peculiar transition between boy and man. He hoped it would break soon. "I guess so."

"You don't like it?" Layla asked.

"Dunno. But…"

She knew. "It's about Cloud, isn't it?"

Denzel sighed. It wasn't really about Icicle, it never had been. It had always been about Cloud and that day. Although he bore no bruise, Denzel knew well enough what had happened. He didn't like to remember. Tifa had been sick from losing the second baby, and at the time Denzel hadn't known what to do. He'd been anxious about her, maybe a little too much, and had made no secret of that and of his dislike for the move here. He supposed he could understand how all that might have gotten on Cloud's nerves after a while.

Maybe it hadn't really been a hit or even a push, like Tifa and Marlene had kept telling him, but Denzel couldn't help how mad he still was at Cloud just the same. Cloud had just come back from one of his deliveries, tired as he usually was after such trips, and had gone in to check on Tifa. Denzel had followed, sullen and worried and annoyed all at once because of how bad Tifa had been feeling and because of how much he had hated this place, or had thought he hated it, anyway. He wasn't so sure anymore.

What had he said that had caused Cloud to turn on him? Denzel couldn't remember, only that one moment he had been standing just behind and to one side of Cloud and staring anxiously at the sight of Tifa lying wearily in bed. Denzel had let something slip, some frustrated comment he couldn't now recall, and Cloud had turned a little too quickly, the back of his hand flying out to connect with Denzel's arm.

It could have been an accident, he guessed, but he didn't believe it. And it hadn't even really hurt all that much. But the shock of it had silenced them both instantly. Denzel had run off before Cloud could say anything, and since that day had said only a handful of words to him. It hadn't been long after that that Denzel had heard about his friends moving to Cosmo Canyon and had asked Tifa if he could join them for a while.

Denzel nodded in answer to Layla's question. "Yeah. I just… don't know what to do."

"Give him a chance, Denzel," she urged. He loved it when she said his name. "Cloud's the closest thing you've got to a dad. You're luckier than most of us orphans, you know? I wish I had a family like yours. Don't push them away, okay?"

Layla leaned close, her hand brushing against his, and Denzel swallowed hard. He looked at her for a moment, his breath vanishing from his throat and his heart pounding as Layla smiled encouragingly at him. How in all the world could he argue with that? Denzel grinned sheepishly and realized he couldn't.

"I'll try," he promised her.

----------

Checking the map in the Shera's conference room for about the tenth time, Cloud grimaced and hoped he wasn't making a mistake. But if she had escaped the attack at Holzoff's place like she'd said she would, Iseldra wouldn't go far. She had nowhere else to go, really. Cloud doubted she would have stayed on the glacier for long, given how the rest of her kin had treated her before, so he guessed she would linger near the cliffs. At least he hoped so.

"Are you sure about this?" Tifa asked.

Cloud sighed. "I don't trust her any more than you do, Tif, but she's our only chance."

"What if she can't do it? What then?"

"We'll find another way," Cloud said. "I'm not giving up on Elle."

Tifa nodded. "Neither am I, but… I still remember what happened the last time we ran into that ice bitch. She nearly killed Marlene, remember?"

Cloud did, all too well. He had explained the situation and his idea to the others on the way here to Icicle, and none of them had liked it any more than Tifa. He didn't like it much, himself, but there was no other choice. Iseldra had some of Gravheine's powers—at least, Cloud hoped she still did, and that they hadn't somehow faded after she had turned on the other woman. Gravheine could travel between worlds, so it followed that Iseldra might be able to do so as well, or at least open the way for Cloud and the others.

The rest of his friends were either scattered around the ship or in town. Vincent was still keeping to himself on the observation deck, while Cid and Barret were busy in the engine room refueling and making repairs. Reeve and Cait Sith were on the bridge keeping in touch with everyone while Yuffie and Red had gone into town to get some supplies and to check up on the kids, whom Tifa had dropped off at home just a little while ago before coming back to join Cloud in the conference room.

"I remember," Cloud answered, "but I have to try."

Tifa rested a hand on his shoulder. "Alright. You know I'll always be on your side, Cloud, it's just that… I can't forget what she did."

"I know. Neither can I. But if she can help us, I'm not gonna turn away from her."

----------

On a rocky outcropping just south of Icicle Inn, Gravheine watched Leonhart and his friends hurry toward the town. Strife's airship had flown overhead not long ago, and it was likely that the two groups would meet if Gravheine didn't intervene. But she had every intention of doing so. There was no telling what damage those combined forces could do to her carefully laid plans, so delicately woven over thousands of years and now at last on the verge of fruition. Strife and Leonhart couldn't be allowed to meet and prevent her from bringing back the man she had sold her soul to save.

Gravheine reached into her robes and withdrew the black materia. She gazed at it for a moment, admiring its dark, flawless surface and the warmth with which it pulsed. Its crafting had been a necessity for her kin in locking away her Queen. It had other powers, though, ones few had ever discovered. Sephiroth had managed to unlock Meteor, the fiery death from above that had only been stopped by the planet itself.

But what would happen, Gravheine wondered with a cruel smile, if the planet were to turn on its inhabitants? Kill the very life it sustained? She had begun the process in Mideel, corrupting the lifestream, for hate and darkness were her Queen's nature. With the lifestream maddened and enraged, it would embrace Her awakening rather than stop it.

Perhaps it was time to intensify the planet's hate.

Lifting the black materia high, Gravheine tilted her head up, slid her eyes closed, and called upon the powers her Queen had given her. The planet's anger filled her, its madness howling in her ears like the wails of the damned. And from the lifestream would the damned come. The breach was wide enough now that Gravheine could summon more than just creepers. Although those would do nicely as well.

The ground trembled and shook, but this was no earthquake. Tendrils of writhing, crimson energy erupted from the earth, blasting out of the ground and echoing with the planet's fury. They writhed and twisted together into dark, feral shapes with feathered wings, and black, muscled bodies armed with claws and teeth like daggers. Snakelike eyes narrowed in hunger. It had been far too long since the nightwings had fed.

They swooped off, a dozen strong, flying straight for the town. As they did so, billowing clouds of ash erupted everywhere, and from them sprang a host of creepers, their bony exoskeletons and whiplike tails glistening. They sped off after the nightwings, roaring fiendishly. And more would follow. The lifestream—red, angry, and deadly—swept through it all, bursting out of the ground everywhere around the town and now within it as well. Gravheine opened her eyes and listened to the terrified chorus of screams.

It had begun.

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Only a few yards from the edge of town, Squall skidded to a halt and whipped out his gunblade. The airship he and the others had seen earlier was hovering nearby, but he couldn't worry about that now. Black shapes were everywhere, some he knew and some he didn't. But they were all bad. Of that much, Squall was certain.

"Aren't those the things that attacked Garden?" Irvine asked, bringing up his rifle.

Squall nodded. "Yeah. Come on!"

He motioned to Irvine and Rinoa, and they followed, hurry across the snow as fast as they could. Squall ducked as something red and wispy shot by his shoulder and dove into the ground. A second later, it came back out, whipping back at him almost as if it were alive. Squall rolled to the side, pulling Rinoa with him out of harm's way.

"What the hell was that?" Squall wondered.

Rinoa shook her head. "I don't know, but there are more of them. Look!"

She pointed, and Squall saw she was right. More of the tendrils were showing up everywhere, shooting up right out of the ground and twisting snakelike through the air like whips. Some of them converged and took on solid forms, more of the creatures that were attacking the town. Other tendrils attacked directly, lashing out at anyone they could reach. A young man, his eyes wide and frightened, ran down the road as fast as he could, but the red tendrils were faster. They caught him, diving ghostlike right through his body and firing out the other side.

He fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Squall ducked as one of the winged monsters swooped right over his head and whirled around, fanning its feathered wings and baring a set of huge, curved teeth. It launched itself at him in a blur of speed, but Squall was faster. He sidestepped at the last moment and cut into the thing with a vicious backhand spin, pulling the gunblade's trigger as he did so.

The thing roared, wounded but still very much alive, and turned back much faster than Squall had anticipated. It swiped at him, but he managed to recover in time and dodged the attack. The thing suddenly recoiled a second later as gunfire ripped through the air and bullets peppered its body. Irvine fired again, this time with some of his formidable pulse ammo, and bright beams of energy ripped the creature in two. It exploded into a haze of black ash and tiny red tendrils that fluttered weakly back into the ground.

"Squall!" Rinoa's panicked voice jerked him around.

She was backing away from a pair of the four-legged things, bony horrors that were crouching in preparation to leap right onto her. Squall ran in, slashing with Lionheart's blue-white steel for all he was worth, followed by Irvine and his devastating blasts. Squall caught one of the monsters in midleap, the gunblade shearing right through its chest, and Irvine disintegrated the other. But as they dissolved into ash, a third suddenly jumped at Rinoa from behind.

Squall rushed toward her, but Rinoa was faster. She whirled around and brought up her hands. Although empty, they now sizzled with white, flickering flames that she shot out at the creature. The sorceress fire engulfed it, incinerating it and leaving not even ash behind. The fire went on, blasting through one of the winged beasts and shearing the wing off another. Squall realized he had stopped and was staring with his mouth slightly open, but… he hadn't expected the power Matron had talked about to be so strong.

"Damn…" Irvine whistled.

Rinoa swept the flames in an arc all around her, searing the leapers and flyers alike, but even so, more took their place almost instantly. Leaping into the air, Squall whipped Lionhart around in a tight circle that threw a bright ring of energy out into the enemy crowd as Irvine unloaded with more of his pulse rounds. But there seemed to be no end to the creatures.

Suddenly the airship roared to life, and from its belly streaked a volley of missiles that ripped through the dark horde in an instant. Snow and dirt and ash alike flew through the air amidst blossoms of orange flame. And in their wake, several figures were running toward the town, cutting and shooting and kicking through any monsters that got in their way. The red tendrils whipped and writhed all through the air, but both Squall and his friends and the newcomers dodged them whenever they came close.

Squall might have given the newcomers little notice had his gaze not fallen on one of them at just the right moment. He ignored the blond man, who seemed to be the leader, and the woman beside him, the rifle-wielding man in the blue coat, the big black guy with the gun on his arm, and the older guy with the spear. The one Squall noticed most was the tall one in black with the red cloak and the guns in either hand. Strapped to his back was something familiar, something Squall recognized at once and which froze him in his tracks.

It was Ellone's bladestaff.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Squall ran at the other man, gunblade raised. What was he doing with Sis' weapon? How had he gotten it? Cutting through one of the flyers as he raced across the snow, Squall ignored the voices of Rinoa and Irvine shouting at him to wait. How could he? That man knew where Ellone was, or had done something to her. Something bad. How else to explain how he had the bladestaff?

The other man saw him and fired, but not at him. Ash exploded just behind Squall and to his right, and while he realized the other man had probably just saved his life, Squall couldn't get the sight of his sister's weapon strapped on the stranger's back like some grim trophy out of his mind. Slashing aside another of the leapers, Squall glared at the man and kept his weapon up as he skidded to a halt just a few yards away.

"Where is she?" Squall demanded. "What'd you do to her?"

Before the tall man could answer, Squall sensed movement to his right. He spun, his gunblade clanging against the blond man's sword. Had they summoned these things? Were they working for that snake bitch, too? But then, why had the tall one shot one of the monsters off his back? And why had they been fighting the things just as Squall and his friends were?

Questions ran through Squall's mind, but he had no time to answer. The blond man pressed him fiercely, trying not to kill him, Squall realized, but just to disarm him. The rest of his friends were busy fighting off the monsters and dodging that red stuff, whatever that was. Squall ducked and swung low, but the other man was quick, skillfully parrying the blow even as Squall dove to the side and swept the gunblade high. Again the other man reacted with the reflexes of a cat, twisting his body around to block the attack before it had even finished. Yet neither could he land any of his own, for Squall countered them just as effectively.

It wasn't until he felt something smash into his side that he at last crumpled to one knee, and as he finally loosened his grip on Lionheart and the other man lowered his blade, Squall turned his head to see the woman—a brunette in black leather with fierce eyes and gloved fists—come to stand by the blond man. She was the one who had hit him, Squall realized, grasping his side. Damn, that hurt. She must've pulled her punches, but not by much. At least she hadn't broken any ribs, although Squall had no doubt that she could have. As Rinoa and Irvine came running up, the blond man turned to Squall, his blue eyes narrow.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked.