Elena stared at the countryside more than a little wide-eyed. She felt almost like a country bumpkin seeing a city for the first time, but it was truly the other way around. She was a life-long city dweller, seeing what the true beauty of nature really looked like. She'd always heard of flowers while living in Midgar, but they'd almost seemed a myth of sorts. Even above the Plate, all you really found were just the cheap imitation kind. When she'd been stationed in Junon, she'd once seen a rose, and remembered what it looked and smelt like for many days to come. When she'd been sent abroad, out of the desolate cities made barren by Mako extraction, she saw endless fields of grass, something that she'd only imagined in stories, and flowers. She tried to bring some back to Midgar with her, but quarantine had taken them, despite even Tseng demanding that she be allowed to keep them. When she'd been sent on vacation to Wutai, she'd been astounded. An entire continent untouched by Shinra's Mako reactors. It'd been the most beautiful place she'd ever seen. Until now. Here, in this place, even after having seen the fantastic gardens and meadows of Wutai, made all the beauty she'd ever seen in her life seem as dirty as Midgar itself.

Flowers of every colour and hue were everywhere. Their vibrant and amazing colours encompassed the entire spectrum, and not even the sky, which appeared to be in a perpetual sunset, could dare compete with it. Waterfalls spraying the purest of water cascaded down the sides of endless mountains, into a forever abyss of roiling clouds below. At that, Elena shuddered, for every time she looked off the edge of the cliff she stood on, she could see no solid ground. Beneath her and her companions was surely only emptiness.

The only thing that chilled her more were the beautiful sparks that flew about all around her and her new allies. Everywhere they travelled, those tiny flashes of light left wakes of colour and an aura of melancholy.

"What's this dump called again?" a voice rumbled, a disgusting sound that resembled something wet and fatty being squished.

Elena frowned at her companions. She didn't know what to make of half of them, and the other half she wanted almost nothing to do with. The one who had spoken, a purple mass of tentacles that were supposed to be arms and legs, was called Ultros. Ultros spent most of his time complaining or swearing revenge against various people who weren't present to hear the threats, and announcing himself as the 'Great and Mighty Land Octopus,' saying that everyone should fear and respect him. No one present did.

"The Farplane," came Siegfried's answer. "Or that is what my rapier told me."

Elena had no clue about Siegfried. At times, the man looked strong and noble, with an air of superiority to him. At others, he looked haunted and afraid, almost too scared to rest in fear of something that might come for him. Elena hoped that the terror Siegfried frequently tried to mask did not indicate what kind of leader this 'Mr. Ajuk' was that had been mentioned in his whispers while he slept.

"Remind me again how your rapier talks to you," Lani said. Even though she commented, Elena could already tell the dark-skinned teenager was not listening. The girl with the over-sized axe appeared to have some form of ADD, her mind frequently flitting from one thing to the next. How she became such a prominent mercenary, or so she liked to brag, was anyone's guess.

"He told us a dozen times already," Lucrecia said with a roll of her eyes. "We don't need to hear it again."

Lucrecia Crescent, the love of Vincent Valentine's life. Valentine had been everything a Turk ever strove to become. Cold, efficient, and professional. A man who had forever written himself into the mythos that was the Turks. All until he'd met the woman and sacrificed everything for her, including his career and his humanity. What little of it remained. No one was sure on the details, but some time thirty years ago, Vincent Valentine had gone missing, Lucrecia had given birth to Sephiroth, and neither of the two had aged a day. The entire thing made Elena shudder.

"Well, I didn't get it, y'know?" Raijin said. Elena didn't know much about the man. Like most of her companions, he seemed the type to brag about himself, but he oddly kept silent about the matter. When pressed, he'd mention an old posse, and two old friends, and then quickly clam up and elaborate no further on the subject. Elena was almost thankful for that. Raijin's voice and speech patterns annoyed the hell out of her. Y'know?

"Ssh," Siegfried said. "I need quiet. I have to summon him."

"Summon who?" Lani asked, almost eager.

"Whom," Ultros said.

Elena frowned, and retorted, "No, I'm pretty sure it's 'who.'"

Lani gave a nod of agreement to Elena, and then stuck her tongue out at the large 'Land Octopus.' He waved several tentacles at her threateningly. The Turk made a mental note to count how many he had. It appeared far more than eight, like a normal octopus should have.

Siegfried growled, "Does it matter whose grammar is correct? Do you really think our enemies bicker like this? No. They don't! They prepare themselves and work efficiently as a team, as we must if we're to defeat them. Ajuk charged me to gather his 'Seven', to equal their number, and kill them. And we shall."

"Why's this our problem?" Lani asked.

"All of you have something to gain," Siegfried said. "Lucrecia – did Vincent Valentine not lie to you, tell you that you beloved son was dead?"

"He did," she said, a cold look on her face.

"And did he not then sneak behind your back and kill him?"

"He did."

"Elena," the man said, rounding on her and pointing. "Did Rufus Shinra not abandon you for dead? Was he not abusive in your dealings beforehand?" She nodded, but he had already moved on. "Ultros! Cyan Garamonde travels with them. Do you remember his sword slicing into your tentacles? Raijin, your chance to kill the one who destroyed your posse is now! Fujin is with them. And Lani, don't tell me you've forgotten Amarant Coral's betrayal. How he robbed you of your bounty, left you to rot in Madain Sari, with nothing but Moogles to keep you company?"

"Yeah, we get all that," Raijin said. "But what're you gettin' out of this? And what's this Ajuk guy gettin' out of it, y'know? "

"I'm getting Shadow," the man said through clenched teeth. "And as for Ajuk... who cares?"

"I care," came a new voice, and Elena and the others whirled about, their attention diverted from Siegfried.

The man who emerged was easily one of the most beautiful Elena had ever seen. His features were perfect in every way, like something an artist had lovingly sculpted from marble. His arms and chest were perfectly toned with strong muscle, but not so much as to dominate him. His hair was long, and seemed to possess a grace of its own. Its blue shine even made the flowers of the Farplane look dull. But his eyes, and that smile... both were so cold, ever so cold.

"Seymour," Siegfried, half a question, half a greeting.

The man frowned, and then said, "Maester. Maester Seymour. I am not without my titles, and I won't have riff-raff forgetting them. What do you want of me?"

"An offer. We wish you to join us."

"Oh, and I suppose you can offer me revenge?" the man said mockingly. "Do you have the son of Jecht and the Lady Summoner Yuna all trussed up for me to destroy? Do you think that will entice me, as it has these others? I can stay here, and wait for them to live out their lives and die themselves, and then spend my days and nights tormenting them once they arrive. This is the Farplane. This is my domain. I am already dead, Sent here to spend eternity. I am just a shade of what I was. Can you give me life? Can you offer me that?"

"Yes," Siegfried said plainly.

Seymour's perfect features contorted, and he said almost condescendingly, "Liar. There is no way in all of Spira to return to the living once one has been Sent here."

"Yes there is," the mercenary said. "My rapier tells me that you have seen one enter and leave this place."

"Yes," Seymour said. "The silver-haired one with the sword. He had such an aura about him. A type of energy I had never felt before."

"Sephiroth," Siegfried said. "That is who you saw. He was able to enter here by a portal. A portal only certain people can use. Ajuk has not told me much, but the four Guardians of the Cetra may use them, as well as the Four Chaoses of Jenova. And, apparently, so can some of their pawns. Myself, for instance. A man named Ajuk, another man named Kain Highwind, and of course, Sephiroth."

Each time Siegfried said the silver-haired warrior's name, she shuddered. How could he speak of it so calmly? He and the others – save Lucrecia – claimed to be from different worlds, but even know a tenth of what Sephiroth was capable of should send any rational man under his covers with dread. What had she gotten herself into, allying with these people?

Life, she reminded herself. Something that following Rufus Shinra would certainly never have given her.

Siegfried continued, "Sephiroth was dead. Dispersed into the Lifestream, ready to be... recycled, as I understand it, into a new being. Or new beings. I don't fully understand it myself. But, before he could be fully separated, something... shifted... between the dimensions. Something anomalous happened, but what, I'm not sure. Portals opened up. And Sephiroth was able to deposit himself here, in the Farplane. And using the energy he was still made up from by the Lifestream, and using the pyreflies here, which I understand you're made up of... well, he was able to take on a new form. Not alive, but not dead, either."

"But still not alive," Seymour said, his voice weary and bored. "Is there a point to this?"

"Yes. A combination of Lifestream and pyreflies. Like I said, he wasn't fully alive when he left. He still needs something else, or perhaps several components, to become complete, but he was able to leave this area. If someone were to supply you with a sample of the Lifestream--"

"Which you have," Seymour interjected. "Otherwise, you wouldn't be bothering me. I'll cut you to the quick. You wish me to... serve..." the word seemed almost an obscenity coming from his lips, as if the very notion was the most offensive in the whole of creation, "... you, and in exchange you will give me this 'Lifestream' so I may live again and extend my reach to all of Spira?"

"Help me destroy Kain Highwind, and you may return here and do whatever you wish."

The man smiled, ever so coldly, but it didn't touch his eyes. "Agreed."

Elena couldn't help but shudder. Somehow, something in her very core screamed, as if what was happening could not be allowed to pass. Her companions, however contemptible, were not evil, just 'grey', as she was. But something about this Maester Seymour...

She focused her mind on Rufus Shinra. As long as she could kill him for leaving her to die, nothing else mattered.

Chapter Twenty Five

Shinra Tower, Part II

"It's 'who', not 'whom'," the one identified as Amarant reaffirmed.

"Listen," Reno blathered. "I know my damn grammar, okay? It's 'whom,', so shut up. Besides, I have the gun. That makes me right by definition."

"Not from where I'm standing," Vincent said, deliberately shifting his weapon, emphasizing that it was still aimed at Reno himself.

Rufus near dropped his rifle and pistol right then and there. He was surrounded by idiots. He had to be. Caught up in the biggest stand off since the Midgar/Wutai war, one that Sephiroth, the man who had tried to destroy the planet, was a part of, and these idiots were arguing the finer points of grammar. If only all of Rufus' enemies were this stupid. Then he could truly rule the world.

After Elena had been shot, Rufus and his small band had managed to get to the cooling substation, and began their journey through Shinra Tower's air vents. Why his former Tower had air vents large enough for people to crawl through, Rufus didn't know, but he'd already amended that when he killed Domino, every vent would be replaced so such a thing could never happen again. It had been a long and arduous trip, one covered in sweat and grime, two things that Rufus despised. He was glad that part of the 'siege' was done with.

After a short trip through the tunnels, Rufus had ordered Locke to stop at a communications' station and begin to monitor for Domino's whereabouts. He was their objective. The man was given instructions that when he was finished, he was to rendezvous with Rufus and the other guards on this very floor at the stairwell. Too bad it had turned out so poorly.

He began to wonder where Locke and his guards were when he realized he was in fact replaying the events leading up to this ridiculous situation in his mind. He didn't need to remember who had spoken incorrectly and who had corrected who. Whom. Was it 'whom'? Rufus almost howled in frustration. The idiocy was apparently infectious. The soon-to-be President of Shinra hoped that Sephiroth was every bit as capable of catching the dreaded 'Stupid Virus'.

All that was important was getting out of this place alive. But no one seemed to want to move. Even Sephiroth appeared oddly hesitant, surveying the large group of capable warriors before him. Not even the great General of Midgar could handle these. Surely they'd suffer losses, but in a battle with those facing him, even he would succumb.

Or would he?

That thought plagued Rufus, nagging at him. If Sephiroth charged, there was no guarantee that he'd walk away alive. Where was Locke? Where were his guards?

As if the thought summoned them, Locke dropped from the vent shaft behind him, landing gracefully, while the grate above and behind Sephiroth clattered to the ground, and uniformed men dressed in the colours of Gold Saucer, wearing Shinra's insignia on their armbands dropped down, all instantly levelling pistols and rifles at the silver-haired warrior.

"Time's up," Rufus said. "My advantage. Now, do you surrender? All of you?"

Sephiroth's smirk was the only warning anyone received. He was an inhuman blur, an instrument of death as he swung Masamune in a wide arc and cut down two guardsman behind him. Or were they in front? Sephiroth spun so quickly it was difficult to tell. Immediately he was pushing the opposite way, cutting gracefully at the enemies nearest him. The one called Amarant let out an animal-like howl of rage, and moved forward like the simian that he appeared to be. One fist lashed forward at Sephiroth, the knuckles of it covered with a weapon that almost looked like a gem-studded shield with a wicked spike on the end. Sephiroth almost contemptuously parried the attack, and moved to counter, if not for the whirling chakram disk that flew at his head. The silver-hair warrior parried it, sending it hurtling away with such force that it drove into the wall. The one who hard hurled it – the albino – made some effort to try to pull it out.

The aging samurai struck then, shoving the youth wielding the curious looking sword away from him, and drew his sword in one motion. He made no effort to attack, but the bared blade showed that he had no intention of letting anyone past him. Reno, ever the man disgusted by swordplay in the face of firearms, shot at the old man. In one quick stroke, to Rufus' amazement, the samurai deflected the bullet with his sword.

Rufus made sure to keep his guns trained where they were, to make sure something similar did not happen to him and his hostages. He made a slight turn of his head towards Locke, but didn't take his eyes from the people he watched. "Report."

Elsewhere, Sephiroth was still moving. The narrow staircase made it so that only one or two people could attack him from either side. The red-haired brute was still attacking, clearly skilled, but still outmatched. If not for the guards on the other side of Sephiroth, he'd likely be dead at that moment.

"Move!" the man in all black behind him growled. Rufus remembered him as 'Shadow' from the Gold Saucer arena.

Shots fired as Rufus' soldiers attempted to empty clips into Sephiroth. The Soldier managed to somehow not only block the deadly barrage of bullets, but deflected them straight back at the men who'd fired them, riddling them with their own ammunition. Even as two more of Rufus' men fell, Amarant moved back and ducked with a comment that sounded, "Switch up," and Shadow somehow leaped over top the seven foot tall brute and landed gracefully on the steel stairs. Two long daggers, nearly short swords, were in his hands seemingly out of nowhere, and he began to attack Sephiroth with amazing speed and vigour. All of which Sephiroth somehow blocked, while at the same time blocking incoming sword strokes from Rufus' soldiers on the other side of him.

Locke said quietly, so no one else could hear, yet loudly enough to be heard over the din of battle, "Domino made a radio transmission about five minutes ago to get his private helicopter fuelled and ready to depart. He was told it would take fifteen. He'll be on the roof."

The man dressed as a blue dragon began to hunch down, his whole body tensing. Rufus frowned. What in the world could he be--?

The man abruptly launched upwards, sailing high overhead, his spear-like weapon leveled at Sephiroth. Even the silver-haired General seemed surprised at this attack, but quickly recovered. A fierce sword-stroke caught the dragon-man's spear, pushing him off course and over, falling directly into the Shinra soldiers assembled behind him, taking them out of the fight.

"We need to get to the roof," Rufus growled. "But how? We'll never be able to get past this madness."

With the Shinra soldiers out of the way, Sephiroth was free to concentrate his attacks on Shadow. The ninja, skilled and quick as he was, found himself hard pressed just to parry and dodge every neat slice and cut made his way.

Amarant was moving down the stairs until he was by Cyan's side. He shoved the samurai out of his way, and looked to the youth with the odd scar on his face. "You look tough," the red-head declared. "What's your name?"

"Amarant!" Cyan said. "Does this seemest the time to be making acquaintances? These men art our enemies!"

"No, they ain't. Not really, anyway. So, kiddo, you tough? You got stones?"

The dragon-man had scrambled up at that point, and lunged at Sephiroth from behind, but somehow the man seemed to anticipate it, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. The attack was easily parried, and immediately Kain set himself into a focused attack pattern, wielding his spear almost like one would wield a quarterstaff, the weapon a blur of motion, both bladed and blunt end striking out. Still Sephiroth managed to parry the attacks from both front and behind.

"Whatever," the scarred youth said, but Amarant gave him a shove on the shoulder.

"We don't know each other," the man said. "But we gotta work together. Y'see that asshole up there?" He jerked a thumb at Sephiroth. "That man's one tough son of a bitch, and coming from me, that's saying a lot. Now, he might hack through my friends--" the one that looked sort of like a monkey-boy began to snicker at the use of the word 'friends' from this ape, "--and if he does, that means he's your business. And then you get to deal with him. So you either help now, while we still have numbers over him, or you get to face him alone later. Your call, kid. So, you got 'em? You got the stones?"

"Yes," he said. "And my name is 'Squall.'"

"Good. I got an idea from Kain there." He abruptly grabbed Squall by the shoulder, lifted him up, and said, "You ready?"

"For what?" he said, sounding a bit startled, but not frightened at the suddenness of Amarant's grab.

"This!" the red-haired man said, and hurled the youth forward like a missile.

Squall flew through the air, making surprising speed. To his credit, the man immediately compensated, switching his odd weapon to a one-handed grip and readied it to strike against Sephiroth. The silver-haired warrior, however, had already nearly been stricken in this manner. Human projectiles were now no longer such a surprise. Without any hesitance at all, he moved his sword to cleave Squall in two.

The young man, however, also seemed to realize that this would happen. One hand lifted up, and a bolt of fire erupted from it. Sephiroth changed his posture immediately, going defensive, raising his sword to defend his face from the unexpected switch in tactics. The Fire spell merely puffed out as soon as it struck the sword, obviously of the weakest calibre of magic, meant more as a distraction than anything else. Shadow and the dragon-man moved in even as Squall crashed bodily into the old General. Somehow, even with the sudden weight of a teenager colliding into him, Sephiroth managed to parry Shadow's strokes, but could not defend himself from the dragon-man. The blade of his spear slashed open his back in an upward thrust. Sephiroth let out a hiss, and a surge of magical energy erupted. As Rufus shielded his face from it, the blonde woman, even as injured as she seemed, made her move on him, driving one heeled boot in a forward kick directly into his groin. Rufus let out a groan of pain, and nearly blacked out.

He was on his knees. He was aware of that. He managed to open his eyes, forcing them from their clenched position, and looked at where Sephiroth had been. The Soldier was gone, the area around the dragon-man, Shadow and Squall empty. Upwards they looked, and Rufus was forced to gaze up, too.

Above them all was a giant hole, one that led all the way to the roof, opening up the night sky before them all. Had Sephiroth somehow escaped through that...?

Fujin whistled, and Amarant grunted, "Damn. I thought you were the only one who could do those Dragoon leaps, Kain."

"Do we follow?" Vincent asked, and the dragon-man, now identified as Kain, nodded his head.

"We follow." He lifted his spear, gazing at the broad head point, then held it out to everyone standing on the stairs. "He can bleed. If he can bleed, he can die. My people, come with me. And Amarant... grab Rufus."

The soon-to-be President of Shinra could make no motion of defense as the large ape-like man grabbed him and slung him over his shoulder, making sure to pick up the dropped guns from the ground and held them in one large hand.

Sephiroth was the ultimate warrior. He knew that, something that did not cause his ego to inflate, as it might have done a mere mortal. He was so much more than that now. Thanks to his…"father's" influence, and because of the gifts his Mother had given to him.

Jenova cells, given to him while he was still in his mother's – his birth mother's – womb, allowed him greater physical ability, and now that he had died…the mental aspect of Jenova's gift had become forefront.

He had been able to project a physical manifestation of himself into the world from the grave. Now, he could walk around as if he were alive. His heart did not beat, oxygen was not required by his lungs and no food or water had passed his lips. But despite this he was more powerful than the combined forces of the pitiful men and women arrayed against him.

They simply had more numbers. When the battle had become troublesome, he had tactically withdrawn through the ceiling. The normal people crowded around the hole in astonishment, but to someone of Sephiroth's ability, leaping ten feet into the air and through a foot of concrete and steel was no great task.

He could feel them writhing around beneath him, swarming up the stairs and towards him. He wasn't concerned; he had another objective that needed his attention. If every one one of them stood in his way, it wouldn't affect the outcome of his actions. Failure was not a consideration.

He swept up the remainder of the stairs, and into what was left of the reception area of the Presidential Office.

The last time he was here, he had cut a bloody swathe through the Shinra guards and left a trail of blood so thick he was sure that the stains hadn't been entirely removed from the carpet yet. Now, it wasn't necessary to leave such a trail. No-one following him mattered.

Entering the President's Office, he almost felt a pang of nostalgia. Here was where he had butchered President Shinra like a hog, destroying one of his opponents in one fell swoop. His son had proved minimally problematic, however Shinra had never recovered from the strike Sephiroth had dealt his former employer in this room.

His target stood defiantly in the centre of the room, positioned so Sephiroth could see what was placed on the desk.

"Poetic," he murmured. The former Mayor Domino lay splayed across the large construct, a buster sword emerging from his chest in much the same way he had left the President.

"I'm glad you approve," said his opponent.

"There leaves just one problem with this arrangement," he continued. "Your weapon is firmly entrenched within that corpse. How do you plan on fighting me?"

Blonde, spiky hair bobbed across to the dead man, and lurched as his enemy wrenched the massive sword from the body. It made a wet, crunching sound as it withdrew.

"Much better."

The defiant figure of Cloud Strife turned to face his oldest adversary. "Isn't it, though?"

Sephiroth's brow furrowed slightly. As a part of his modified genetic heritage, he had the ability to sense a person's identity, and see their aura. A low level telepathy, one might refer to it as, but closer to 'knowledge-at-a-glance.' However, Cloud's aura was different to any of the others he had encountered. Silver strands reached from his limbs, guiding his movements. He smiled.

"I see not much has changed. You are still…a puppet. Perhaps more so now than before."

Cloud sneered. An ugly expression. "No one guides my movements. I am in kontrol of my own destiny."

"Perhaps. But perhaps not." Cloud's mind blurred before him. He could touch his enemy's identity, but it was hazy, difficult to see. Perhaps he had become more powerful in Sephiroth's absence, being able to partially negate his Jenova endowed abilities.

He shook off his train of thought with a slight movement of his head. "Enough of this. We are about to receive guests. Do you wish me to kill you now, or before our imminent audience?"

"You will not kill me. You will try, but you will not succeed. You are not able to defeat me. You have no idea how far my power now reaches."

"Very well. We will wait for our witnesses."

Almost on cue, the bumbling fools from downstairs massed into the room, encircling the duo.

Sephiroth let their identities wash over him, assessing who was more of a threat than the others.

Irvine Kinneas. Cyan Garamonde. Fujin Kochi. Quistis Trepe. Locke Cole. These did not concern him. They would die after their contemporaries. Amarant Coral. Gilgamesh. Two men he had already fought, and found wonting. Kain Highwind. Vincent Valentine. Squall Leonhart. Shadow. These men posed the most threat, and would be among the first casualties. Now that he was not confined to a stairwell, he anticipated minimal difficulty in dispatching these fools.

Rufus Shinra. The circle of irony was completed. He would save this man for last, and gut him like he did his father.

Before any of that, though, he had to deal with Strife.

"Are you ready to finish this?" he asked.

"More than ready."

Sephiroth addressed the rest of the room without removing his gaze from Cloud. "Do not interfere. I will deal with all of you shortly."

Cloud flew at him. Faster than he had expected. Much faster.

The buster sword came in high, and Sephiroth didn't even bother to move his weapon. Using his free hand, he grabbed Cloud's forearm and smashed the butt of Masamune into his opponent's chest.

Cloud recoiled, shaking his arm free of Sephiroth's grip. His next strike clashed with Sephiroth's blade, sparks scattering onto the ground as they twisted into a fatal embrace. Sephiroth shoved Cloud away, trying to get more breathing room, but Strife absorbed the push, beating at Sephiroth's body with his own free hand.

Cloud was startlingly capable. Sephiroth found himself starting to struggle against the puppet's attacks, affecting his own ability as he had to re-evaluate his opponent as they fought. Cloud anticipated Sephiroth's every move, almost appearing to know where each of Sephiroth's attacks would strike before he had even moved.

He could feel confusion and awe rolling off the assembled crowd around them, at the sight of one man beginning to overpower who had bested their collective strength just moments ago.

Cloud's victory seemed assured when he slipped past Sephiroth's defences and sliced the fabric of the powerful being's shirt. Shocked, Sephiroth grabbed his opponent's shoulders and pushed with all his might.

Cloud staggered backwards, seemingly unprepared at the use of all of Sephiroth's physical power. He tripped on a piece of fallen debris and collapsed against the desk.

Sephiroth was amazed to feel himself tiring against a single enemy. Had he required to breathe, it would surely be coming faster in his chest now.

"Enough," he said. Cloud looked up at him self assuredly, rising slowly and confidently from the ground. "I don't know what you are, but I will not be bested by you."

He summoned a power locked deep within him, planning to squash this man like a small insect. Cloud's eyes widened as he realised what Sephiroth was planning.

He began to sparkle with a green energy that shimmered from him. The power flooded through him, enhancing his Jenova abilities. Almost as if hearing whispers in his own ear, the sounds of the thoughts of the fools about him echoed in his ears like the soft wing beats of a multitude of butterflies.

"He's--" Kain.

"What..?" Irvine.

"SPELL?" Fujin.

"Shit," Reno.

"--going to--" Shadow.

"--escape!" Zidane.

"Ultima," Amarant.

"Quistis--!" Squall.

"--want to go home!" Locke.

"Bastard," Rufus.

"Down!" Vincent.

"Time," Cloud.

"Black Materia," Gilgamesh.

Sephiroth's eyes widened upon hearing this last thought. He expanded the scope of his spell to include the room – the entire building, if need be. His hunger for power multiplied his magic intent, greedily consuming everything in its path. He would annihilate everything in the world and take that Black Materia. Nothing would stop him.

All his life, Amarant Coral had wanted the fight. Not some war where he could stand victorious over multitudes of corpses, like some conquering king or queen. That was just wasteful, and Amarant wouldn't be caught dead leading anyone or anything. He was his own man. His life was his own, and no other's. Responsibility was not his lifestyle.

He didn't want some meaningless fight against some sort of tyrannical villain bent on destroying everything, either. Although, for a time, that had been his destiny. He didn't even want some random fight against some unknown monster or man, found wherever it was convenient, just for the thrill of it. But again, for a while, that had been Amarant's life. No, what Amarant Coral really wanted was not a fight, but the fight. Whether it was done in the name of good or evil, the massive monk would always be searching for the fight.

And when he met Sephiroth, he understood for the first time what the fight really was. That silver-haired warrior was the fight. His knuckles to the man's steel, his muscle to the man's speed. Sweat, and blood, and dirt, and that need to live on afterwards, to ultimately prove that you were the victor over your opponent. The opponent. Kuja had been the threat to his world, but Kuja had never been the fight. That man had been the worst kind of opponent to Amarant, a man who depended on magic and manipulation and the lives of others to do his fighting for him.

Amarant Coral was not a righteous man. Nor was he even a moral man. His life was the fight. But having fought Sephiroth twice now, he realized one thing above all else. Sephiroth had to be stopped. Not for the purpose of the fight. But for the sheer fact that such an unbelievable killing machine such as him should never be allowed to exist.

All this flitted through Amarant's head as the top floor of Shinra Tower exploded in a mass of green energy. Shell magic was cast, absorbing less than half the destructive quality of the Ultima magic. Both Squall and Fujin seemed to have looks of intense concentration, keeping those spells up as everything around them was blasted and shunted with green waves of destruction. Amarant tried to keep his ground, barely managing it as others around him flew backwards in the wake of such an onslaught.

He could already feel it coursing inside of him. His body was absorbing the magic, letting its very nature into him. It was a purely instinctive and reactionary thing, barely controlled, a discipline few others knew. Its how he recognized the spell for what it was. On his world, Ultima looked so different, a wave of pink and purple energy in a beautiful display of carnage-inducing fireworks. Here, it was a sickly green, more resembling intense flames.

Amarant felt something sting his arm as he so desperately attempted to keep the magic inside his body. He ground his teeth, and looked down, even as he tried keeping his ground. Wrapped about his arm was the leather thong of a whip. Holding on to the other end of it so desperately was the weak-looking blonde waif from the other group that looked almost useless in a fight. During the blast, she must have fallen into the hole Sephiroth blasted open and jumped through to get into this room. Amarant nearly jerked at the whip with his other hand and let it fall as a reactionary response. Instead, he hoisted his arm even as a battle was being fought inside his own body. The girl was launched upwards and out of the hole, and landed unceremoniously on the ground. She stumbled away, towards her own party.

Amarant's blood felt on fire. His muscles strained, and his very spirit felt as if it was being torn asunder. He wasn't sure if he had the magical acumen to handle such a spell, never mind try to contain it for any period of time. Return Magic simply didn't work that way. If the mercenary was hit by a spell, his body would immediately mimic its casting and immediately fire off a copy of said spell back at its original caster.

But the barest glance could tell the room wasn't capable of sustaining another blast of Ultima. The walls were charred, green fire licking up their lengths. Windows were blown out, and walls cracked. But worst of all, the hole Sephiroth had earlier made in the floor and that the blonde woman had fallen through had widened, and fracture points all along the floor began to form and split.

Sephiroth had a superior smirk on his face as the dust cleared. To one side of the hole stood Squall and his group. To the other, Kain and his. Rufus was being held by Cyan, who had a sword blade across the man's throat. And in the center, standing before the hole, was Amarant himself.

"The Black Materia," Sephiroth said. "I know you have it. Give it to me."

"No," Kain and Vincent said simultaneously.

Sephiroth glanced from Vincent to Kain, and the smirk widened. "So the Dragoon has it," he said, as if to himself. "I had thought for certain the four-armed one did, the Materia being at the forefront of his mind as it was."

"You can't have it," Vincent said, his pistol levelling threateningly.

"Then I'll take it."

"No," Amarant growled.

Sephiroth didn't even bother to look Amarant's way, just said, "And you think you can stop me?"

"Yes," the mercenary said. Talking was painful. He could feel the spell in his nerves, in his blood. It was begging to be released. "I have something... that belongs to you."

Sephiroth diverted his glance to Amarant, as if just noticing a fly. And his eyes widened just enough for the monk to notice.

"Back off," he growled.

"If you release that," Sephiroth warned, "you'll die."

"No. We'll die. We'll all die. If the spell doesn't kill us, the floor giving out on us will. So, how do you wanna play this?"

The silver-haired warrior seemed to study him, weigh him and his words, and the power Amarant was barely holding onto. Just to emphasize his point, the mercenary held one hand, palm out, at the floor, directed at a large crack that extended nearly to Sephiroth's own feet.

The man didn't back away, but he didn't advance, either. But his sword lowered slightly, dipping in an almost sign of surrender, but not quite. The way he stood, it was almost as if he considered it not a loss, just a victory that hadn't been achieved yet.

Slowly, Amarant shuffled himself towards Kain and the others, who were already getting close to each other to allow the Dragoon to teleport them. Affording a glance in the other direction, the mercenary noted that the other feebs seemed to be preparing more for battle than to escape. Of course, they didn't completely know what Amarant was up to.

With each step the monk took, he began to noticed he was glowing. First, it was barely there, but by the time he reached his compatriots, it was almost as if his skin was on fire with green flame. It felt it, too.

Kain held up the Black Materia and focused on it.

"Not yet," Amarant rasped.

And he raised one hand and let the Ultima spell loose at Sephiroth. He smirked as he can his companions faded away from this world.

Squall watched as their counterparts across from their circle gathered around the dragoon, who after protesting held up a shiny black orb, enveloped them in darkness and disappeared.

"Oh man, Squall, what are we gonna do?" asked Irvine.

There were literally seconds to think. His mind processed everything around him. Reno was cursing. The quiet girl Reno had found pulled Quistis towards them. Irvine yammered in his ear. Cloud had sunken into a trance, staring straight ahead at nothing, past the superhuman glowing with imminent magical energy. Sephiroth stood with green fire burning at his hands, a green aura surrounding him. He was trying to contain the blue giant's spell, but instantly it became apparent that he wasn't going to hold it forever. The magic pushed violently at its invisible prison, itching to escape.

Zidane. He was shouting for his attention. He was shouting for him to come his way. He was shouting there was a way out.

Without even considering the action, he gathered up Quistis in his arms and ran towards the monkey-tailed youth.

"Where?" he demanded.

Zidane sprinted through the large broken window behind the desk and the SeeD followed, hoping the others were behind him.

The boy stopped at the edge of the balcony. "Over there."

"What? Are you crazy?" protested Irvine.

A high-pitched whine built up in the office behind them, and a green mist descended upon the room, spilling out into the open air of the balcony.

"No time, there's a portal, just jump!" exclaimed Zidane, and he leaped from the side of the building. Irvine rushed to watch his descent, but he had vanished. He looked to Squall for verification.

"Just do it!" he cried, and handed Quistis to Irvine. He looked back as the sniper dropped from the roof. Cloud still stood entranced in the office.

Without stopping to think, he ran back and pulled the man by the shoulder. By motor reflex, Cloud half ran half staggered next to Squall. The whine hit a high note, and Squall felt static fill the air around him. The others were gone – he prayed they had all jumped, as he leaped out into the air dragging Strife with him.

For a horrible moment he plummeted through nothing but air, and then the world went green and then white in sequence. Then black as the Ultima spell hit him.

Little did Rufus realise that as he had considered the ease in which he had invaded the tower via the air ducts, another was crawling around in the vents and making his escape.

Red was a lot better suited to it than Rufus, and was able to make much better time.

He had been spotted only once – not including after he had pounced on the guards in the communications station – and that was as he was crawling back into the vent. His mission had been a success; to deactivate the tracker they had undoubtedly placed in Quistis, and he was on his way out of the building when a surprised yell emanated from behind.

Shocked, as his keen hearing allowed him to pick up even the slightest sound, he turned to confront the stranger and the two of them stood facing each other. The silent man had a dagger poised to throw at Red.

He waved his tail meditatively. "So…where does this leave us?"

As predicted, the man with the knife was stunned momentarily when confronted by a giant talking animal, and Red used the moment of hesitation to slip into the air vent.

No one had pursued him after that point.

Now, he slipped out of the external duct and to the ground outside the tower. He was headed away from the building, back to their rendezvous point, when a deafening explosion rattled what felt like the entire city.

Instinct took over and he tore away from the sound, powerful limbs slowing him to cross a great distance in a short time. When it felt like it might be safer, he looked back on the tower.

The entire top few floors of the building were gone. Green fire licked the sides of the structure, spreading down in an uncontrollable frenzy of destruction.

Red knew what had happened – somebody had cast an Ultima spell on the roof. He somehow knew that Squall and the others had been there.

He watched the carnage play out for a few moments, green light dancing across his fire-red fur, mourning the loss of the strangers who had made his life exciting again momentarily.

Then he turned and bounded away into the blackness of the night.

Author's Notes:

HOLY OH MY GOD WE UPDATED AGAIN IN THE SAME WEEK AREN'T WE COOL!

Tribute in the form of hot slave girls can be left at the temples we expect you to raise in our names. In the mean time, we'd like to once again thank Alpha2Omega, Macky, and our new reviewers Brutal2003 and Swann. Reviewers like you are the reason we keep doing this. Well, that and because the story needs to be told. But the reviews do help!

This was part II of the arcing Shinra Tower portion of the story, the first time Kain's and Squall's groups actually meet. From here, both groups are moving on to new and exciting adventures and subplots. It can only get worse for our heroes from here on as they begin to realize that Sephiroth isn't their only problem! Stay tuned!