25

I Want to Be Your Canary

The lights flickered off again.

"Un-fucking believable," Reno said.

Tseng flashed his usual "cool it" look.

They flipped on the emergency lanterns. The map of Sector Eight bordered on unreadable with such little ambient light. The two of them sat in tight quarters in the kitchen. This used to be a little Wutainese place known for an unusually well-prepared Marlboro. The attack on Midgar ended its twenty-four years of service. Even after meticulous cleaning, the funk of spoilage still lingered near the empty walk-in refrigerator.

They had been able to piece together fragments of hacked surveilance footage. They knew Cloud Strife was responsible, but the path of destruction exceded the capabilities of a mere SOLDIER First Class. Sephiroth had been replaced.

Tseng's PHS rang. Tseng glanced at the number. It was Scarlet again. He did not answer.

Whatever blew up Shinra Tower, it was not Cloud. There were not a lot of things it could have been. Almost all of them had something to do with Scarlet.

When Tseng did not answer, his PHS rang again immediately. Reno accepted that he might well spend the last days of his life surrounded by the smells of rotten Marlboro.

"What happens when we locate the diesel generators?" Reno said.

"We retake them," Tseng said, as though it might be as easy as walking into a convenience store and buying a remedy. "They're Shinra property. Don Corneo's not Shinra."

"It woud help if we had more men. I mean… for example, those guys who defected at the Honeybee?"

"Yeah, well, next time you see them you may end up having to kill them."

Reno stared.

"I wouldn't trust men like that anyway," Reno said.

"We're in the 'trust no one' phase of the campaign?"

Tseng smiled. Reno could have anticipated what he said next. "That's what being a Turk is all about anyway."

Someone knocked at the door.

Reno glanced at the surveillance camera. It looked like Rude. He braced a handcuffed man with a paper bag over his head and carried a Public Safety-issued dufflebag. "What do you want?" Reno yelled through the door.

No answer. Just another knock.

"We don't need anymore rotten elixers here," Reno barked.

Rude voice boomed back. "Well your mother's a Wutainese crackwhore."

The password was right, so Reno unlocked the door.

Tseng sighed.

"I brought him. Just like you asked," Rude said.

"How do we know he's not bugged?" Reno asked.

Rude shot him a pithy, "what do you take me for?" look. He pushed his hostage roughly down onto an old wooden chair.

Reno held the electric lamp to his face and pulled off the paper bag. The hostage flinched away from the light. He was young—no more than twenty-five—and red-haired. He wore a white button-down shirt and looked disheveled—stoned even.

Tseng leaned in closer. "So what's your name?"

He was still handcuffed and unable to shield his eyes from the light. He looked away, but would have still been half-blind. "Johnny."

"Do you have a last name, Johnny?" He seemed like the young, naïve sort who vanished in a crowd; would die first in a Public Safety operation.

"I'd rather not say yet."

Tseng inhaled. "Do you know who I am?"

"Tseng. Leader of the Turks."

"If I'm Tseng then what am I doing here in the slums of Sector Eight in the middle of a blackout? Why aren't I in Junon right now?"

"I'm guessing you know what Scarlet did when Cloud attacked Midgar." Johnny was a talker when he got nervous. "I know you accessed the data, in fact. You hacked into the encrypted security cam data that backed up to the Junon mainframe six minutes before Shinra Tower blew."

Tseng arched an eyebrow.

Rude gave a slight nod. This one said, "See? I told you."

"What do you do, Johnny?" Tseng said.

"I work in systems analysis at Junon," Johnny said.

"What reason would I have to hack into the Junon mainframe? I have the third highest security clearance in all of Shinra."

"Because you didn't want to have your access logged. So you cracked the firewall with an anonymous IP. It wasn't hard to figure out though."

Tseng took in his words. He glanced at the dufflebag in Rude's hands.

"Scarlet fired the Sister Ray," Johnny said. "The President was still alive. So was SOLDIER First Class Jecht. She's tried to cover up as much as she could about what happened. Most people were so distracted by the chaos, it hasn't been hard."

"Those are serious accusations. Why would she do something like that?"

"As head of the Department of Weapons Development, pending a replacement for the head of Public Safety, she's the leader of Shinra. But you know all of that. That's why you, the Turks, haven't gone public. She has all the power now."

Tseng clasped his palms together.

Johnny squinted harder. "Um. Can you get that lamp away from my eyes?"

"What are you doing here then? Why come to us?" Tseng said. "If what you're saying is true, you're in a very dangerous position right now."

"Because I can't sit with this any longer. Besides. My friends are in danger."

Curious. Tseng turned to Rude. "What's in the dufflebag?"

Rude withdrew… it. Tseng had seen it many times before in briefings, but never so close-up. It really was sort of… cute.

Tseng nodded to Reno.

Reno lowered the lamp.

Johnny's eyes adjusted to the dark room.

Tseng let him see his face. "Start talking."

The thugs dropped Vincent hard onto the hardwood floor. He could not tell for sure where he was, but the titter of voices in a nearby room and the jingle of a player piano provided a few hints.

When Vincent fidgeted in the sack, he heard one of the thugs laugh. "You're feisty. They all are. Until Coreno gets to them."

Vincent really wished he could just kill them now. But no, he had work to do and he promised Aerith he would do it her way. He could not say why he trusted her so. At first, he wanted her unique contribution to the genepool. Afterwards, he desired her. Now he knew she could never reciprocate those feelings. He no longer had anything to gain from her. She saved his life, yet he did not feel obliged to her. Not really.

On some level, Vincent knew why he followed them—why he followed her. Such thoughts bothered him.

When Don Corneo's henchmen left and closed the door behind them, he crawled out of the sack and took in his surroundings. The air was smokey. He had not been inside any buildings in Midgar since their arrival except for the old opera house. He saw from their approach most buildings seemed dark. This one was fully lit—almost too bright, as though gloating in its own brightness.

Vincent had never been in the Honeybee Inn before. Just the same, he knew this was it without question.

Of course, now that he was here, it had not occurred to him what he would do next. If he were Aerith, he could locate the old woman and the little girl in a heartbeat. He had not had her power for a long time. He was broken.

Aerith and Tifa would have a plan. They would have some strategy. He felt fortunate to have made it through most of his long life without needing much of a plan.

Vincent brushed off the white lace dress. It was form-fitting with a par of… artificial additions. Vincent unbuttoned the colar and reached in. If the Impresario had not had such a modest outfit, this never would have worked.

The door opened again. One of the theater ruffians walked back in, perhaps having forgotten something. He saw Vincent and went bug-eyed.

The padding Vincent had to wear was just big enough to hide a three-chambered pistol and he was drawing it at that very moment.

Vincent stared. There's nothing to see here. Move along.

Don Corneo's lackey walked away and closed the door behind him.

Still no plan, but urgency now.

There was a ventilation duct overhead. This never worked except in movies. Fortunately, most cinema heroes lacked blue magic.

Elmyra lay in bed. She did little else anymore. There was no real reason to leave it. There was a tiny bathroom adjoining and no one ever let them out. They only ever saw other human beings at meal time now and even then it was just one of Don Coreneo's minions dropping off a scant tray of food. Marlene painted away on a canvas. Her images were vibrant and fantastical—here a sparkling rainbow and here a dragon or unicorn. It was the opposite of anything she had seen for many months. One of the friendlier girls helped smuggle them in until the corpulent hag who ran the day-to-day operations here punished her. At least that was what Elmyra gathered. No one talked to her anymore. Her days were spent in the presence of an unrealistically optimistic little girl and five shades of beige linens and wallpaper. The destruction of the mako reactors notwithstanding, nothing changed here. Not ever.

Not until about ten minutes ago. Mumblings became cacophonous until men… Don Corneo's men… trampled up and down the halls.

Elmyra did not dare to stir. She would not herself even suspect the commotion had anything to do with her.

Marlene sat up at attention. She focused on the air ducts. The grate rattled and clattered and then dropped to the floor.

A swirling black mass swooshed in and materialized in front of them. It took form. Human form. Then it spoke in a low, sultry voice. "There's no time to explain. I'm Vincent Valentine. We met once before when I was Turk, but I'm on your side now. I'm here to rescue you. Aerith Gainsbough and Tifa Lockhart will be waiting for us outside in a few minutes."

Marlene stared. "Why is he wearing a dress, Auntie Elmyra?"

Elmyra's mouth opened and then closed again. "Aerith? My Aerith is still alive?"

Marlene perked up. "And Daddy? My Daddy?"

Vincent stared at the child and stammered. She looked surprised and then hurt. Even without saying a word, he betrayed the beginnings of a lie. "We should go."

Elmyra sat up and hobbled out of bed. Vincent caught her when she nearly tumbled to the ground. She watched him. She recognized him. She remembered the hostage crisis at her home. Vincent dodged her gaze. "If Aerith trusts you… How is she?"

Vincent surveyed his surroundings. "Different. In a good way. She's all grown up now."

Elmyra smiled a tired smile. It's about time.

"Could you crawl through the air ducts?" Vincent asked.

Elmyra hesitated; glanced up at the high air duct. "Take Marlene. Take the girl. Don't worry about me."

Vincent shook his head. "I told them I would take both of you."

"I'm old and she's all that matters."

Marlene watched the conversation with wide eyes.

Vincent scowled. "I see where Aerith gets her stubbornness now. I'll carry you both if I have to."

The door unlocked and then opened. It was one of Don Corneo's men. The one with the roaming hands who almost discovered Vincent's secret on the long, bumpy trek to the Honeybee Inn.

The henchman gaped.

Vincent really wanted to shoot him. Instead, he grabbed Elmyra and Marlene, throwing one over each shoulder. The world blurred and they vanished out of sight. They swirled and spun in a blot of amorphous ink and materialized back in the storage room from which Vincent escaped. He knelt low and pressed Elmyra and Marlene lower to the floor. Now Elmyra really did fall down. Both seemed equally surprised by the sudden transportation and neither one seemed ready to comment except for a grumble.

Vincent looked out the half-open door and saw armed men running while startled or bemused brothel girls looked on.

"How do we get out?" Elmyra asked.

Vincent shook his head. "Aerith and Tifa have a plan."

Or did they?

Vincent may have taken for granted the fact that they both seemed so much more organized than he; that he preferred to avoid plans; fly by the seat of his pants and they seemed so different from him. Aerith never specifically said how they would get him out of the Honeybee Inn. He just assumed.

Don Corneo's men went from room to room. He coud hear the footsteps approaching their own.

Vincent waited in silence and then it occurred to him: for the first time in over a human generation, he trusted someone. He depended on someone.

It scared the hell out of him.

The cracked door opened all the way. Vincent recognized the warty man with cropped blond hair from the photos in the Shinra archive. He always wore something as ostentatious as this robe of red-dyed fur in his public appearances. The men at his side were dressed more conservatively in navy blue business suits, not that Vincent cared much how they dressed. He was more concerned by their pistols.

Don Corneo snarled. "What, pray tell, is going on here?"

That was when the explosion hit.

A rumble shocked the entire building. Chunks of debris and rubble tumbled through the air and three of Don Corneo's men fell. Shrieks filled the air along with a sulfurous sting. Don Corneo and his men turned and ran into the center of the cloudy hall.

"You!" Don Corneo shrieked. "What do you want here?"

A feminine cackle echoed through the suddenly-drafty building.

It was decidedly not Tifa or Aerith.

Marlene shrieked and crawled to a corner. Elmyra followed after her. Vincent peered around the door frame. The scandalously-dressed blonde stood triumphant on a mass of rubble, clutching an enormous fan in one hand and a Public Safety-issued machine gun in the other. "Keeping something from me, have you, Corneo?" she cried.

"Damn you, LeBlanc!" he cried in return, "scrounge up your own diesel generators."

She smirked. "You seem to think you can control Midgar, but Midgar isn't your city. Midgar isn't anyone's city." Two alike-dressed men, one incredibly fat and one incredibly slim, flanked her. Behind her, a small army of women in orange jumpsuits with veiled faces.

What was she wearing anyway?

"Get them! For Midgar!" she screamed. The LeBlanc syndicate marched ahead, guns firing with abandon.

So this was definitely not part of Aerith's plan.

Marlene screamed. Elmyra held her close. "What in heaven's name is going on, Vincent?" Elmyra cried.

Vincent shook his head. "I don't know, but we have a shot to get out of here…"

The door burst down. One of Don Corneo's men stumbled backwards, on top of Vincent. One of LeBlanc's goons tackled him. All three tumbled around on the ground. Vincent pushed one away and the other punched. The chaos spread in the main room. Someone threw a grenade. The stairway to the second floor collapsed.

Don Corneo shrieked. "Get them!" Vincent had no idea whom he was talking about until two of his suited men entered and grabbed Elmyra and Marlene. They dragged both away screaming.

Vincent snarled at the two figures wrestling him on the ground. Then Don Corneo and his men disappeared around a corner.

The Galleon Beast emerged.

Vincent marched across the shredded remains of his assailants.

The fighting dissipated. The drum roll of gunshots diminished to a synchopated beat. Don Corneo's men were dead or retreating. Everyone stopped and stared at the monster emerging from an inconsequential supply room.

Vincent roared a terrible roar.

LeBlanc stumbled backward, but recovered after a moment. "Fire!" she cried.

Vincent plowed past her footsoldiers, trampling and goring, scanning his surroudings; unable to find any trace of Don Corneo, Elmyra, or Marlene. If he only had his Goddess-given powers as a Cetra—his birthright—he would know their location immediately.

The bullets stung. Then they slowed him. Then they reduced him to a bleeding heap before he had killed half a dozen of his attackers. There were at least a dozen more still standing.

The powers Vincent retained had never felt more useless.

"Vincent!"

It was Aerith. She and Tifa crawled into the building through the gaping hole left by LeBlanc's charges. They ran towards him. The fiery vision of the Galleon Beast faded to one more human. He was alive, but depleted. While his friends ran towards him, a dozen rifles bore down on him. For the first time in his centuries of life, it occurred to him he was about to die. It was a stark, scary thought. Maybe his would be a noble death, but it would cap a life of selfishness and collusion.

It was too late for regret. Vincent stood tall, ready to accept the bullets with pride.

Another explosion shook the building—this one from the main entrance—this one small. It was just a charge large enough to take down the door.

"Freeze, everyone stay where you are." Vincent recognized the commanding voice through the megaphone. No one else he knew could freeze a room of armed thugs so quickly.

Vincent heard Reno's voice before he saw him. "Fuck, is that you? Hey, Tseng, it's the newbie."

Tseng pushed past a row of Public Safety Infantrymen with guns trained on LeBlanc and her henchmen. "Vincent?"

Vincent did not see her, but he felt a flicker of light; of energy; of her. When Aerith wrapped her arms around him, he could hear the whisper of her spirit. Thank you for being safe. He crumpled to the floor.

She healed him. He basked in her glow. He felt her compassion even if it was not love as he knew it. Time passed and when his eyes opened, he saw her smiling eyes. He glanced to his left and he saw Tifa. Only she was not smiling. She was not even looking at him. Her eyes were locked onto someone else.

Reno was not looking at her. Not looking her in the eye anyway. "So… want me to forgive you for getting me shot?"

Tifa seemed about ready to pounce and snap his neck. That was how forgiving she looked.

Rude and about a dozen infantrymen were busy arresting LeBlanc and her goons. She was protesting loudly. Aerith watched the scene with a look of grim satisfaction. It subsided when she returned her attention to Tseng. The remaining Public Safety men aimed their rifles at them.

"Stand down," Tseng said.

The Infantrymen complied and lowered their weapons.

Tifa's eyes narrowed. "You're not going to arrest us?"

Tseng inhaled and straightened his back. He did not like doing this. "No. I'm not. I'm afraid we have bigger fish to try. Several."

Tifa offered a questioning look.

"It's been a while, Tifa," a less familiar voice said.

He emerged from the line of Public Safety men. Vincent did not recognize the man with stark red hair, but he did recognize the black and white mechanical cat cradled in his arms.

Tifa approached him and glanced at the Cait Sith robot. She smiled. "You could have just told me, Johnny."

His smile was wry. "No, I couldn't… but thanks."

Aerith watched him too. Her stare was long and pensive. "We've met before…"

Was he blushing? "We saw each other for a minute in Costa Del Sol. I was on vacation. Actually, I was deploying a new Cait Sith."

Aerith shook her head. "I know that… but… now that I see you here… I feel like we met somewhere before that…?" She surveyed the remnants of the Honeybee Inn.

"So I'm glad we finally found you," Johnny said, too quickly. "I want to tell you all so much. The truth. But…"

Aerith stood up. "Marlene and Elmyra are through that passageway there…" She nodded between what remained of the stairs to the second floor. "So is Don Corneo."

Tifa stiffened. "We need to do this."

"Stay back," Tseng said. "This is Turk business. Those were our hostages. We have a score to settle."

Aerith walked to the door. "No. Let me do the talking."

Reno gaped. "Who the hell is that and what did she do to Aerith Gainsborough?"

Tseng ignored him. "Reno. Rude. With me." He gave Tifa a questioning look.

Tifa eyed Reno with trepidation. "I'll do worse than shoot you if you get in the way." She tapped the Murasame strapped to her back and followed after Aerith.

Reno's lips stretched from ear to ear. "I think she digs me."

Vincent stood and brushed off his dress. He filed in line behind Tifa. "If only you knew, Reno…"

Tseng sighed and followed with Rude.

They walked through a pair of massive double doors. The room was ambient red—a red of joy and blood. Unlike the rest of the Honeybee Inn, Don Corneo constructed it in the Wutai style. Wutainese characters in bright gold lined the ceiling panels and walls. Ceramic pots, some bigger than them, rested in the corners and banners with serpentine dragons lined the wall. Vincent had seen Wutai years before. Wutainese art and architecture were spare and functional. This was Wutai's beauty, but without its purpose and utility—an idealized corruption of an endangered culture. Not that Don Corneo had ever been bothered by corruption in any of its senses.

He panted and whimpered, cowering in a corner. The barrel of his pistol pressed to Marlene's temple. Drying tears streaked her cheeks, but she did not utter a single noise. In Don Corneo's other arm, he held Elmyra in a headlock. Aerith took a few steps forward.

"Don't move," Don Corneo whined. "Don't move or I swear to all that's sacred I'll kill her."

Aerith stalled. "What is sacred, Corneo?" she asked.

He gave her a strange, frightened look. "What?"

"Your life? Is your life sacred? Because if you hurt one hair on that girl's head, you'll die. It doesn't have to end this way."

His wide eyes teared. The Don of Sector Six was afraid. "Nothing's sacred. Nothing at all."

Vincent could imaine the words coming out of his own mouth.

"It's over, Corneo," Tseng said. He shifted his weight. His hand slid closer to his own pistol.

Marlene let out a faint gasp. The gun's barrell pressed harder.

Tseng relaxed his hand. He looked pained. It was out of character.

Aerith shot Tseng a look and stepped forward again.

"Stay back," Don Corneo said. "It's not over. It will never be over. Don't you get it? This city has belonged to me for years. It was my birthright. It's finally mine. I'm not about to watch it crumble away. Don't you get it? It's always been me who's given the people what they've wanted." He eyed Vincent in his dress ruefully. "I wanted to give the city anything it wanted. I finally have the power to do that. You think Rufus Shinra ever gave a shit about the people who live here? About anyone who wasn't himself?"

"You can't get away with giving some people what they want at the expense of others' lives and freedom."

"That's what Shinra did for generations," Vincent said.

Aerith turned. "And now here we are."

"All of you, stay back," Don Corneo whined.

Aerith raised her hands in surrender, calm and disarming. "I don't want you to get hurt. If you give us Marlene and Elmyra right now, no one will hurt you."

Vincent caught the flicker of a shape behind Don Corneo. He panted and gasped. His gun dropped away from Marlene for the better part of a second.

Then Vincent realized. The whole time, Aerith was stalling for time.

The man moved with surprising stealth, creeping along the perimeter of the room, dodging between pottery and banners until the last possible second. The floor creaked.

Don Corneo turned with a start just in time for the man to bring the head-sized ceramic Wutainese bowl down on his head.

Don Corneo fell, bleeding and unconscious.

Marlene and Elmyra scurried away. Aerith caught them in her arms and squeezed.

Vincent stared. The strange man stood with triumph.

Aerith smiled at him. "I knew you were there. Thanks so much… um…?"

His face darkened. "Biggs."

Tifa looked perplexed long enough to further darken the long-lost AVALANCHE-member's face.

"You did remember I was taken captive with Marlene and Elmyra, didn't you both?" he asked, something of a whimper in his voice.

Johnny entered from the double doors. "I knew you'd pull through for us, buddy. Put her there!"

Biggs stared. "Okay, do I know you?"

Tifa came to his rescue. "Biggs, this is Cait Sith's handler, Johnny. He was a childhood friend of mine."

Biggs arched an eyebrow.

Vincent rolled his eyes. Tifa certainly was popular.

"You grew up with Tifa and Cloud?" Biggs asked.

Johnny nodded. "I've been working at Shinra for the last couple of years. When I heard about AVALANCHE, I thought I could help out from the inside, you know?" His eyes cut to Tseng. "Uh…?"

Tseng shook his head. "We need to talk. All of us. We're going to need more privacy."

A bright neon sign of nonsense words that blended in with all of the others in this dilapidated part of Sector Eight hid the Turks' ad hoc base in plain sight. It reminded Tifa of Seventh Heaven. She never imagined she would miss bartending for lecherous, drunk criminals. The past several months changed her mind about a lot of things.

The Turks: Tseng, Reno, and Rude, sat in a cluster. Biggs, Tifa, Aerith, and Johnn sat across from them. Elmyra huddled by Marlene, draped in a long shawl, asleep. Both were emotionally spent.

Vincent sat alone and to the side. Both Turk and AVALANCHE and yet neither. "You mean to tell me…" he seethed, "You never had a plan?"

"Well…" Aerith said, "I thought I could make it up as we went. You seem to be fine having done that for so long."

Vincent looked away, hurt.

"You didn't have a plan, exactly, but you're selling yourself short," Tifa told Aerith. "LeBlanc's arrival was as shocking to us as anyone. But the cavalry was your idea."

Vincent glanced over.

Johnny leaned forward, still clutching his inert Cait Sith doll, as though it gave him power here. "I got in touch with Tseng because Aerith told me to, Vincent."

Tseng scowled and folded his arms.

Johnny smiled. It would have been charming if it were not so awkward. "I knew the three of you were closing in on Midgar and…"

Tifa held up her hands. "Hold on. How did you know we were close to Midgar?"

"The same reason I knew when to meet you in Costa Del Sol," Johnny said. "Those teardrop earrings you always wear, Tifa? They have a GPS tracking device."

Now it was Tifa's turn to be taken aback.

"I called Aerith's PHS when I figured she was in cellular range. I was in Midgar to investigate the incident with… Cloud." Johnny balked at the words.

Tifa's face blanked.

"So it's true?" Aerith said.

Johnny nodded. "I saw the footage. Scarlet blew up Shinra Tower with the Sister Ray to take him out and Rufus at the same time."

A knot formed in Tifa's throat. Aerith wanted to say some consolation, but what? "Maybe he's okay, Tifa," as though that were a good thing?

"Shinra's in ruin here in Midgar and with Scarlet in control of Junon, she's the de facto ruler of Shinra," Johnny said.

"And the free world," Tseng said. "So you said Aerith told you to contact me?"

Johnny nodded. "I told her everything I knew. And I knew the Turks were not reporting to Scarlet. So Aerith told me to approach you, Tseng."

Tseng's scowl hardened. He looked directly at Aerith. "And you trust me… why? We've imprisoned you twice. We had a spy placed among your friends. We were complicit in Rufus lying to you about freeing your mother at Cosmo Canyon."

Aerith looked hard at Tseng. She remembered those eyes through the haze of years. She remembered them shining through the darkness of her days with Hollander as a child. She remembered the consciences following her in the aftermath of the Nibelheim incident when she most alone in her entire life. Those consciences never seemed a threat to her. The Turks protected her in a time when she may have needed it most.

The other question Aerith did not ask: why did he trust her? After all, he had just taken her and several accused terrorists into their base of operations. She never asked because she already knew the answer. He knew her.

"I just trust you," Aerith said.

Tseng nodded once. "What happened to Sephiroth and Cloud?" He studied the Masamune across Tifa's lap

Aerith recounted their journey to Icycle Inn, editing out details he did not need to hear: like Reeve's death and just about everything that happened in the Gold Saucer and Costa Del Sol.

"He's not dead, is he?" Tseng asked.

Aerith shook her head. "I don't know for sure, but I doubt it."

"Then we need you. We need the White Materia just in case."

Aerith swallowed. "I don't have it anymore. Cloud destroyed it."

Tseng's stare was painfully long. He turned his gaze upward.

"I think we know where the Black Materia is though," she added. "Hojo has it."

Tseng shook his head. "That's not possible. They strip-searched him."

"Then he at least knows where it is."

"And if Cloud's alive, he knows too," Tifa added. "We figured it out right before he changed."

Tseng nodded. "Well… it sounds like we know what comes next."