Warnings: During lightning storms, avoid high open spaces like golf courses. Also, bring dry socks; rain usually accompanies the lightning.


Chapter 29 : Ball of Confusion

They were gathered in the conference room Cloud had glimpsed earlier. There was the General and Zack of course. Like the centre of a hurricane that everything revolves around, everyone was waiting for them to speak, to act, to lead, so they'd know which way they were moving. Kunsel stood near them, giving them a quick briefing on the reports that had come in while they'd been away. Cloud might have been inclined to be jealous of the good-looking Second except Zack had, as predicted, picked him up, squishing him tight and spinning him around. All the while laughing and crying like a loon and so glad to see him Cloud would've felt like a total idiot if he'd doubted how the dark-haired SOLDIER felt about him.

Sephiroth had just smiled at him, head slightly dipped so he looked at Cloud through those ridiculously long eyelashes. It was a look filled with appreciation and anticipation, lust and joy. Cloud hadn't been able to turn away—hadn't been able to move. If the General had called him over to be fucked on his desk, Cloud would've gone. As it was, all the SOLDIERs in the area shifted their weight in order to ease the sudden tightness in their pants, and Cloud was left trying to bring his wings back under control once again.

The big First had decided to leave his bat wings on display even though Doctor Imeera had, predictably, gone into scientific spasms at seeing them, all thoughts of sleep wiped from her mind. When the little hands had shooed her away—seemingly acting on their own, she'd started muttering about 'second-generation mutations' and 'organic permutations'. The First didn't bother to tell her that they were just acting out the stuff he wanted to say. Tifa was also entranced by them, squealing a little when one of them had shaken her finger. A performance Cloud found bewildering since he'd just finished teaching himself not to think of her as the girly-girl of his memories.

Doctor Imeera had spared a moment to introduce herself to the dark-haired stranger but she didn't even get a chance to look at him. The man had crossed his arms and stared at her over the collar of his cloak. It gave Cloud the impression that a) they'd have to kill the guy before he'd let the doctor touch him, and b) he would be very, very hard to kill.

Whatever might have happened was interrupted when Kunsel hurried out of the tent still holding the urgent reports he'd tried to deliver nearly three hours ago. When the chatty Second hadn't even been curious about the battle or why Zack was in a set of worker's coveralls and not his uniform, all of Sephiroth's focus had transferred to him and the documents he held. That had pulled everyone else's attention to them. They'd moved into the tent and they'd all become very busy. Except for Cloud.

Tifa was there in the tent, searching through discs, trying to find something she'd run across yesterday. Cloud knew a little about computers—it was hard to live in today's world and not know something, but Tifa was working the keyboard like a master. It reminded the Corporal of the times he'd spent watching her play her piano. There were other people in the room, mostly technicians setting up equipment but also a couple more Firsts and some regular army officers. There was also the spooky, dark-haired man in a red cloak who was lurking in the corner. His aura of dangerous unpredictability made Cloud very nervous and the blond soldier couldn't bring himself to turn his back on the man.

"Vincent," Tifa called out over the noise, "Can you come here for a sec?" The red-cloaked stranger tucked his nose into his collar, probably to signal his reluctance, but he still moved to the fighter's side. They started up a low voiced discussion. Tifa was writing furiously, and Cloud could hear that they were trying to remember what had been said in some message they'd both heard yesterday. They were concentrating hard, trying to be as accurate as possible, because the General had said it could be important. It was easy to visualize his childhood friend as a kick-ass fighter and terrorist when she looked like she did now.

Cloud was doing nothing.

Even the teenage runners were busy being useful, even if it was just bringing in extra chairs or arranging the food. He'd promised the General that he would be in control of his wings by the time he got back and he wasn't! He was just a fucking klutz that they stuffed against the wall so he wouldn't screw things up... again.

He sat in a chair on an empty edge of the room because he had problems keeping his wings in. Anytime he got distracted—which happened whenever he caught the General's eye, something would startle him. Then they'd pop out and knock over anything or anyone in the area. It was embarrassing and inconvenient, and cleaning up after him took too much time so he'd moved to an empty wall and just let the wings stay out. All he had to do was control their desire to beat at every loud noise. Zack's wings were hardly better behaved but at least they were smaller so they did less damage. Besides they did 'cute' things, like ruffle the First's hair when he was thinking.

Shit. It was like being back in Nibelheim as a kid.

He dropped his head in his hands and his wings curled around him, locking him into his misery. He ignored the sounds of life around him, people moving and talking. He wasn't part of them.

"Hey, Spike," Zack said from in front of him. When Cloud didn't raise his head, the big First just sighed and crouched down in front of him. "Kunsel said you're reacting like a new Third. That's pretty tough."

"That's silly. We were three years in that lab," Cloud argued. "I'm just stupid or something."

A large hand swatted him on the head... hard. That brought Cloud's head up only to see Zack frowning at him. "You're not stupid. You're not weak and you're not a failure. How many fucking times do I have to fucking tell you?" Cloud blinked as one of the little hands on Zack's wings shook its finger at him before settling back on his shoulder. "Kunsel sat with lots of first-timers while they adjusted so if he says that's what you're suffering, then that's what you're suffering. And for you to have to do it in the middle of a field camp in the middle of a fucking war." Zack rubbed his eyes, "I'm surprised you haven't completely freaked out. You are, without a doubt, one of the toughest sons-of-bitches I've ever known." Cloud knew his mouth was hanging open but he didn't know what to say.

Zack continued, "C'mon, the General is worried about us; says we should be eating. It's a good idea, Spike, stress makes it harder to control your reactions. That's why SOLDIERs were isolated after getting their injections. And I need to ask you a few questions, so we can load up on carbs and yak at the same time while everyone else does the work. Not a bad deal, huh?" He grinned. It was his old grin, the one that Cloud remembered from before. Again, Cloud was speechless.

"Here," Zack continued, holding out his arm, "grab on. Focus on it. Feel your grip around my arm, the temperature, the texture; nothing else matters but holding on, okay?"

"Okay," Cloud agreed and placed his fingers on Zack's forearm.

"I said to grip it, Cloud. Are you a pissy little debutante at her first ball, or are you a SOLDIER? Grab on, for fuck's sake" Cloud tightened his grip automatically at his friend's tone. When the First told him to stand up, he did that. When Zack started walking through the crowd, Cloud did that too. At least until the first touch on one of his wings.

"My wings!" he exclaimed. "I should put them away."

"Nah, leave 'em," Zack said, "People will have a better idea of how far they'll reach if they spring out, plus they give a pretty good indication of how upset you're getting so they'll know if they have to duck. And then there's the Coo Factor."

"The what factor?" Cloud asked bewildered, moving slowly through the room, twitching at every brush against him. Although people did try to give him more room than they had when he diligently tucked his wings away.

"The Coo Factor," Zack replied, "The more people coo at you, the more goodies you'll be given and the more you can get away with. You got these great white wings and those big, blue eyes. People are going to take one look at you and coo 'angel'. You'll be able to get away with a lot of shit."

"Bullshit," Cloud scoffed.

"It's not!" the SOLDIER countered, "I used to do this great lost puppy look that had an enormous Coo Factor. I tore up the training room on the 49th floor and got away with just a stern lecture. All because of that look."

Cloud narrowed his eyes, unsure whether to believe such a cock-and-bull story.

"That wasn't his worst offence," the General confirmed, "His mentor was notoriously unable to resist him when he used that look on him." Sephiroth was standing right beside them. When had he moved there? Cloud was startled and his heart-rate spiked. His wings fluttered presaging full extension. He was going to hit the General, he just knew it.

"Concentrate on your hold of my arm. That's all there is." The blond tightened his grip as he struggled to bring his adrenaline levels down. "That's it, Spike. Just breathe."

"My apologies, Cloud," Sephiroth said softly, "I did not mean to startle you." The General held out a chair in front of a plate piled high with food. It was obviously for Cloud and the blond felt ridiculously touched at the General's concern.

The General. His superior officer. His lover. He blushed bright red.

"It's alright, General. No harm done," he replied, hoping that their audience mistook the unsteadiness of his voice for fright rather than arousal—which was certainly what he was feeling. He sat down quickly. A quick stroked down the back of his neck was the only external sign of affection that the General gave him but it was enough to make his pants very uncomfortable.

Zack sat down next to him, smiling slyly. "Hell of a reaction, isn't it? He can do that to all the Firsts without thinking about it. Of course, he actually tries with you and you're particularly vulnerable because you've already given in to it a couple times. I'm surprised you can walk."

"Za-ack," Cloud protested. He glanced around and, sure enough, the other SOLDIERs in the room were looking at him and smiling knowingly. He dipped his head and squirmed on his seat like a little kid. Zack, the bastard, chuckled in delight.

"Eat your food, Spike. Who knows when we'll get to eat next."

Cloud, grateful for a reason to hide his face, once again did as he was told.


From his side of the tent, Vincent kept a wary eye on the rest of the room. It's not that he expected any of them to attack but he was unable to forget his Turk training enough to relax in the crowd. His beasts would also influence his behaviour, he reasoned, and most of them were creatures of instinct rather than logic.

*I hope you're not including me in that group,* Chaos complained.

Of course, some creatures had intelligence and logic, Vincent thought loudly, but chose not to use either.

He could feel Chaos huff in annoyance and retreat to a deeper part of his consciousness. Times like these were as close to being alone as he ever got. He became aware that Tifa was gesturing him closer. It was a strange request; they could hear each other clearly from where they were already. She repeated the gesture so, with an unheard sigh, the gunman leaned closer.

She smelled like sunlight...

"So?" she asked.

Vincent blinked in confusion. "What?"

Tifa rolled her eyes. "You were essentially alone with Sephiroth for three hours, so did you tell him?"

Aah, he understood now. Tifa was asking if he'd told Sephiroth that he was his father. He buried his face in his collar, glad that his companion was keeping her voice low. "The opportunity never arose," the ex-Turk defended himself. "It would have been awkward."

"Of course it's going to be awkward. I can't think of any casual way to bring something like that up," she said, easily dismissing his weak excuse.

"I haven't even decided whether or not to tell him." Tifa just stared at him in disbelief. "He's lived nearly thirty years without me. Can I be sure that telling him is the right thing to do?"

"And letting him continue thinking that that madman Hojo is his father is a better choice?" She asked scathingly. "A lot of people think insanity is genetic, you know. Maybe he believes it and is wondering—worrying, about when he'll become as crazy as his father."

"You don't know if that's what he's thinking," Vincent argued.

"You don't know that he's not," she countered.

He didn't know. He didn't know anything where Sephiroth was concerned. The gunman dipped his head, crossed his arms, and snuck a look at Se– his son. The silver-haired man was impressive; much more commanding than Vincent had ever been—had ever wanted to be. He could see people's eyes watching him, waiting for him to lead them although only a few seemed fully comfortable in his presence. Zack Fair, for instance, kept handing the General food off his plate. The little blond boy, fully recovered from whatever had afflicted him yesterday, was uncomfortable around the General but for an entirely different reason than from most of the others in the tent. Judging from the teasing and the touching, and the boy's blushes, the rumours Vincent had heard in the mess tent this morning were true.

He had a son. His son was in love with another man.

Vincent contemplated that reality and decided, of the two statements, he had more problems accepting the first one. Why hadn't Lucrecia told him? He felt the same bewildered anger and yearning that always accompanied thoughts of the woman he'd loved…

Loved...

Love-ed; past tense. When had that happened?

*Whenever it was, it wasn't soon enough, my host,* Chaos jeered.

"What's the matter, Vincent?" Tifa asked. The gunman had swayed as if hit by an unseen force.

"Nothing." His voice was so low she had to lean forward to hear it over the noise in the tent.

It's odd, he mused, for some reason he'd expected there to be some sort of event attached to the realization that that part of his life was over. He'd loved Lucrecia with all the passion his heart held. There should be fireworks or a visit from a celestial being–

*I'm with you, my Immortalis.*Some other celestial being, Vincent corrected himself.

"Vincent!" Tifa poked him in frustration. "This is no time to be spacing out like that. General Sephiroth is going to be calling the meeting to order soon and then, I think, he's going to get very, very busy. You should tell him now that you're–" As sometimes happens in meetings, everyone had quieted at the same time, no chatting, no shifting, no 'clink' of cutlery. "–Sephiroth's real father." If the room hadn't been made of canvas, Tifa would've sworn that her voice echoed. She covered her mouth with her hand and stared up at the gunman. "Oh Holy," she whispered in prayer and apology.

The ex-Turk was looking towards the silver-haired warrior, standing by his friends. All three of them were looking at the dark-haired gunman. Nobody was moving. Even the anonymous runner, in the middle of stealing a meatball, left it dripping on his fingers rather than disturb the moment by putting it in his mouth.

"You are my father?" The General's voice was calm, unemotional.

"It is both possible, and likely." Arms folded, back straight, he looked his son in the eyes, neither proud nor ashamed.

Still silence, the weight of words dragging down the very oxygen they needed to breathe.

"We will talk later," Sephiroth commanded, after a quick flick of the eyes around the crowded room.

Vincent nodded acceptance, "Very well."

Motion and noise resumed although a murmur of excited speculation now underlined the more prosaic sounds of chairs scraping against the floor.

Tifa looked first at the General then at her companion. A small sneer, out of place on the small fighter, emphasized her reaction. "That's it?"

Vincent looked down at her, hiding his smile in his collar, "You were expecting hugs and an orchestra?"

The young woman's eyes glinted and her sneer deepened into a grin. "I guess I'll have to wait until the opera is staged," she teased, "I hear they're already working on the libretto."

Vincent's eyes widened in horror, "Opera?" He could hear Chaos laughing at him.


"Who is that guy?" Cloud asked, still staring at the tall, shaggy-haired stranger that had kept his adrenaline jumping earlier. The blond could easily believe that he was Sephiroth's father; it made more sense than greasy, ugly Hojo.

"He's the man you had me rescue when we were leaving the lab," Zack responded, trying to figure out how much Cloud would remember from his dreamtime. "You know, the one in the funny bed?" The blond frowned. "He's got 'angry parts'?" Zack prodded, "Remember."

The frown deepened then disappeared. Cloud's face was suddenly relaxed and blank. "The Others still sleep inside the Squire but soon all must wake... or die. It is time to battle the Yearning Ones that look to the stars for their futures," he said. His voice was serene and as empty as his expression.

"Shit," Zack whispered. He hadn't meant for this to happen.

"If the See-er guides Gaia's chosen into the Labyrinth then the battle can be contained. The Squire will fight the End Weapon. Calamity's Child will need his Heart to resist the call. Companions can clear the way. All must win their battles or it will be planet's death." He gave an odd twist of the lips that could maybe be a smile, "Gaia is not ready to die."

Zack caught his friend as he collapsed bonelessly. "Did you hear that, Seph?" he asked,

"I did and no, I don't understand it any better than you do except I think–" my father? "–Valentine is the Squire." The General scooped up his lover and sat, arranging him carefully so that his wings weren't damaged. "You were asking about him when Cloud went into his trance," he explained, "and the message talked about the Others being 'inside' the Squire and we already know Vincent hosts several other creatures."

"Okay, yeah. That makes sense," Zack agreed, "but what about the rest of it?"

"Perhaps once we've taken a look at all of the data," the silver-haired SOLDIER suggested mildly. It was almost comfortable having his-his friend back, taking part in a strategy meeting by talking before thinking, It was familiar.

"Is Cloud okay?" It was Tifa Lockhart. She was squinting at her childhood friend, looking at him in concern but she didn't try to touch him, recognizing that the General wouldn't let any but the most trusted personnel touch the Corporal while he was this vulnerable. "Should I get a doctor, or some water, or a potion, or something?"

"He should recover soon," Sephiroth said. He resisted the urge to hide the small soldier from the woman's gaze. This was Cloud's childhood friend, not a romantic rival. Besides, the fighter was a valuable resource and a trusted ally. He had, and would again, trust her with his life. "Cloud's been experiencing visions," he told her.

Her eyes opened wide in amazement, "Visions? Really? That's cool." Then her eyes narrowed again, "He's not spouting vague prophecies like the ones in Loveless or the Lore of the Ancients, is he? I mean, those are filled with stupid metaphors that never make any sense. I hate those."

"I know exactly how you feel," Zack interrupted, "That stuff gives me gas."

Sephiroth ignored him, "They seem to be instructions on what to do next."

"But with stupid metaphors so we don't know who's supposed to do what," the Commander said cheerfully.

The General let out a little puff of breath—he was in public and therefore he wouldn't allow himself to sigh. "Which is why we're holding this meeting; hopefully, with all of us working on it, we'll be able to decipher the riddles we've been given. Clear the room, please Commander," Sephiroth instructed. Zack stood up to carry out the order.

He had always found it odd that someone as self-contained as the General found it so hard to concentrate in a crowd. He'd never said it, and people certainly couldn't tell by looking at him, but Sephiroth was... not shy exactly, but hyper-aware of being stared at. It was Angeal who'd informed him and then his mentor had pointed out all the small signs that indicated when Seph was feeling overwhelmed. At the time, he'd felt like bursting with pride that he was being brought in on the secret. It wasn't until later that he realized the First had been training him to take over as the General's SiC because he didn't plan on being there to do it.

"Odin's Balls. My head hurts." The voice was soft but well known and Zack was thankful to have his bleak memories interrupted.

Everyone talked at once; "Hey, Spike." "Cloud!" "Welcome back, Corporal. Are you feeling better?"

Cloud clutched his head. He wasn't sure actually. He felt like he'd been dragged through a river and over a waterfall. All his joints ached. He could hear someone's heartbeat slowing down, calming, or maybe it was that he could feel it. For some reason, he felt like he had water stuffing up his ears making the normal noises muffled and distant. Still, it wasn't as bad as the best day in Hojo's lab. "I, uh, I think so." There was something else different about his present...

"Why am I on the General's lap?"

"You went into a trance state, made a pronouncement, and collapsed," the General recited calmly but Cloud had heard Sephiroth's heart-beat and knew it was a lie. His face started to heat up, especially when he realized that Sephiroth had a hand on his spine, right between his wings, right on a major erogenous zone and his body was reacting right on cue.

He let his hand fall away from his head to land casually in his lap. A quick look up to see if the General had noticed... Sephiroth's eyes were glinting in appreciation. He knew what he was doing… and the effect it would have.

Cloud was shocked. General Sephiroth was a pervy bastard!

Cloud's eyes narrowed in determination. "I'm good now, Sir. Thank you," his voice was professional. After a brief struggle, which thankfully was more of will and therefore unseen by the interested crowd, Cloud stood up, tucking his wings close to his body without thought. He shrugged his shoulders and assumed his long-forgotten mantle of impersonal, competent NCO.

"So, the stuff I said, will it be of any use?"

"That," the General responded dryly, "is what we're about to find out."


It was a much smaller crowd once Zack got through with it. The large First made short work of clearing out the excess personnel. It was part of his gift that the people who weren't invited to stay didn't resent being excluded, even if they had the rank to expect it. In fact, rank had very little to do with the General's choice of attendees. It wasn't just those directly involved, but those whose input he valued; which explained the presence of Master-Sergeant Lutton and Lieutenant Kunsel and the exclusion of the by-the-book Senior Camp Commander.

While the Commander was busy doing that, Sephiroth gestured over the laconic Master-Sergeant. "Red XIII?" he asked. The designation was the one Hojo had given Nanaki in the lab and the creature had asked that it be used with strangers or in formal situations. Sephiroth thought this would qualify on both counts.

"Already on 'is way to Cosmo Canyon," Lutton replied, "but we'll send a copy of the findin's to the Professor so's 'e can give 'is opinion. Just like you said, guv."

"No chance of recalling him?" Sephiroth agreed with Valentine that the felid's input might be useful.

The Master-Sergeant replied to the General's questions but he kept a steady on Cloud. The blonde, aware that he was out-ranked, even if he was wearing a SOLDIER First's uniform, kept his return gaze passive and impersonal, but also immovable. The General had placed him here, by his side, so here he'd stay. The senior NCO's stare narrowed in a silent test of authority no different from a handshake. It was impressive, but far less scary than the stuff the blond had survived under Hojo. Cloud's chin dropped, covering his neck; his lips drew back just a little and he could feel something like a growl rumbling in his throat. He couldn't see his eyes flash as the pupils elongated but MS Lutton could.

The experienced sergeant smiled to realize that the boy would fight for the General with everything in him. When Lutton was finally dismissed, he gave the blond warrior a short nod of approval. Cloud watched him leave with wary eyes.

"The pissing contest is over now, Corporal," Sephiroth said startling Cloud out of his aggressive stance.

The young soldier blushed. "It's not, I mean, I wouldn't–"

"It's funny, but I suddenly have a great deal of sympathy for a bone that's being fought over." That just made the blond fidget even harder. It was one thing to face down a sergeant, but quite another to embarrass the General in front of his staff.

"Relax, Cloud," Sephiroth said with a small smile, "I was teasing you. It's a mode of conversation I have just recently mastered."

Cloud, just barely managed to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. He didn't remember this side of the General at all... at least... he didn't think he'd ever seen this? Dimly, a static filled picture formed in his mind, a brief memory of a happier time. There'd been food, lots of food.

...

"Any ideas on how to proceed?"There'd been the three of them. Breakfast... and bare feet under the table; deciding how they would deal with Jenova once they got to the reactor.

"We need a plan?"Zack had asked in his usual cheerfully casual style. Sephiroth's response had made him choke on his coffee:

"Unlike others I could name, I have never charged an entrenched position with a strategy that consisted only of a yelled: 'It'll be a surprise'." Zack had grinned unrepentantly.

...

It was a wonderful memory. He hadn't been weird or weak little Cloud Strife, but a member of the team, needed and wanted and included. It was also inspiring. His lips curled up just a little.

"I don't know, Sir. They say it takes years to get it right" he said, his voice at its most inoffensive.

The General's eyes slitted slightly. "You don't think I'm doing it right?" Cloud just looked at him with innocent eyes. "In that case, I shall practice on you, shall I, Corporal?"

Cloud leaned in a little closer, "I'd be honoured, General, to help you with whatever you desire." He looked the General right in the eye on the last word, his invitation clear.

Cloud wasn't the only one who could growl.

Suddenly, Sephiroth wanted this meeting over and everyone gone. Only the little quirk of the blond's lips let the General know that this was exactly the result he'd been hoping for. The Corporal leaned a little closer, "Payback for the wings, Sir," he murmured before returning to his casual at-rest position slightly behind the silver-haired warrior; looking as if he had not a care in the world.

'Well, well,' Sephiroth thought in satisfaction. He wasn't sure if it was Niisan or the Corporal, or a mix of the two, but he was glad to see the return of Cloud's more... durable side. Seeing his lover huddled against the wall, trying to hide from everyone, had been most upsetting. This teasing, stubborn, confident NCO was much more to his liking. He dipped his head to the papers in front of him, hiding his smile, as he tapped them into a neat stack. He looked up at the assembled personnel. "Shall we begin everyone?"

The rustling stopped as the General gathered all the attention onto him. "In front of you are various pieces of information and speculation. These include a history of Hojo's experiments with Jenova and Deepground, and their actions since their existence was exposed, up to their latest activity which Lieutenant Kunsel has just recently brought to my attention. Last night, at 2100, Hojo's cloned warriors attacked the ShinRa base that guarded the Temple of the Ancients on the Woodland Isle. For those of you who had friends stationed there, a list of KIAs and MIAs is included."

A couple people at the table quickly thumbed through the pages. Sephiroth hadn't had a chance to read the list either—had no reason to really, but thought it appropriate as one of the two ShinRa Generals. He flipped to the correct page and scanned over it. Then he beckoned Cloud a little closer. He whispered instructions and Cloud nodded his understanding. It came as no surprise to the blond soldier that the General knew exactly who was going to be getting bad news. He went into the office and found the bottle just where the General had said. He whistled softly in appreciation. He had never been much of a drinker, but even he recognized the label as one of the most expensive.

He returned to the conference room and had no difficulty in finding the person the whiskey was meant for. The Master-Sergeant he'd faced off against earlier was sitting as if Petrify had been cast on him. Cloud poured a generous amount into the man's coffee and snuck a quick glance at the abandoned list: LUTTON, Darcy, PFC – KIA. He looked at his CO and lover, lifting both the bottle and his eyebrow in an unspoken question. A shallow nod and Cloud put the bottle down in front of the stricken NCO.

"Master-Sergeant?" the General inquired.

He swallowed, "Yes, guv?"

"Do you need to retire?" There was no condemnation in Sephiroth's voice; after all, he knew what it was to grieve for loved ones.

"No, guv. I can continue."

"Very well, then let us do so." Sephiroth self-consciously cleared his throat. "We don't know what happened in the Temple but survivors report that the building shimmered, the ground shook, and the Temple disappeared leaving only a deep pit behind. The clones went into the pit then left. We know, from a separate report, that the Temple was transformed into something called Black Materia. This materia was used at approximately 0200 this morning to perform a summon of legendary power. Hojo has called down Meteor against the planet. At 0220, five creatures crawled out of the Northern Caves. These have been identified as Weapons and are purported to be part of Gaia's ultimate defence system. Their names are," he paused to read his notes. He had to squint to decipher Zack's impatient scrawl, "Sapphire, diamond, ultimate, ruby and emerald."

"That sounds more like a necklace," Tifa joked.

Someone else laughed, "It would be cool if they were made out of jewel stones. Then we'd all be rich when we destroy them."

"Fuck," Zack said over the murmur of excitement, "Aerith's message: 'the Planet's Jewels can stop the Heaven's Stone'. The Weapons are, mostly, called after precious stones and they were made by the Planet, and Meteor could be called 'the Heaven's Stone'." He turned to Seph who looked thoughtful.

"You mean we don't have to destroy them?" Kunsel asked in disbelief.

Sephiroth made a note on his pages. "I have no reason to doubt the source so it will do as a working hypothesis." The soldiers at the table looked at each other. It was odd for there to be a battle they didn't have to fight. "As of half hour ago, we had locations on only three of the five; the Central Sea, the Northern Ocean and the Coral Desert. There have been no aggressive actions observed."

"This coincides with a discussion I had with Nanaki," Vincent spoke up. When all the attention turned to him, he buried his face deeper into his collar before continuing. "His grandfather has read about these 'weapons'. They defend Gaia from catastrophe but he had no idea how they define 'catastrophe'—although it sounds like Meteor would fit the requirement. He also had no information on how they'd defend the planet."

"Stomp on the mother-fucker," Zack muttered, taking another look at the photos.

The Silver General nodded at Vincent and ignored his SiC's little comment. "Then, unless and until, the situation changes we won't concern ourselves with them." He set aside that stack of notes. "Before we get deep into discussion regarding the various prophecies and pronouncements we've received, that might apply to our current situation, I would like your opinion on the chart that compares what we know of Hojo and DGS's motives and activities. Please feel free to continue eating while you read."

Sephiroth knew that combat troops and SOLDIERs always appreciated a chance to eat a hot meal, sitting down. Not being shot at while doing it was a bonus. The swordsman was pleased to see both Zack and Cloud going back for more—Zack filled up two plates automatically and Sephiroth knew the second one was for him. It was such a simple action but it relaxed some small bit of coiled tension inside him, and he thought, once again, how fortunate he was that Hojo had never understood friendship or love. If the Professor had ever realized how important these two were to Sephiroth, his 'greatest' experiment, he would never have abandoned them... and he, Sephiroth, would still be alone.

He had quickly absorbed the information in the packages, speeding through it to determine whether his instructions had been followed. His staff had chosen the examples well, maybe not exactly the ones he would have chosen, but they presented his ideas adequately.

Zack returned to the table, stepping over the chair and setting the second full plate down in front of General Sephiroth. He pulled his own plate closer, settled the papers in front of him, and dug in. Sephiroth smiled to watch him. He flipped forward then back again as he was forced to find information he'd missed the first time through. Cloud read as he ate—steadily and thoroughly. He stopped every once in a while to make notes in the margins, a small frown created a divot in his brow. He'd removed his sunglasses as the sun went down and the light dimmed, and he was no longer jumping at every noise. Soon he'd be completely adjusted to his new body and making love to him wouldn't overpower his nervous system. Maybe, Sephiroth thought, those two years hiding in his mind had had a positive effect after all. He was mastering himself much quicker than SOLDIER Thirds usually did.

Thinking of Cloud running away made his eyes drift over to the dark gunman, with his red eyes and cloak. He had vague memories from his earliest childhood of the staff at the lab responding to emergencies involving Specimen 'V'. They had sometimes talked about it in his presence, he realized, because they'd said that Hojo had let his ego get the best of his common sense and 'V' was more than the professor could control. They'd been talking about him, Vincent Valentine, who was now claiming paternity. How did he feel about that?

Void. Vague. Vacillating. Vindicated. Vindictive. Victimized. Victorious.

He scrunched a mental nose in disgust. Playing silly mind games was not the way to approach the issue, even if this was the time—which it wasn't. He was in charge of this meeting and of deciding what actions they would take as a result of it. Vincent Valentine had waited nearly thirty years to announce himself. He could wait another three hours. It didn't stop the General from assessing the man from under his lashes and behind his hair. He wasn't sitting at the table but leaning over it, weight resting lightly on his gauntlet-covered hand. He scanned some pages quickly, some he essentially stopped at and read word-by-word, but at all times his focus was intent on the pages in front of him. His brass-covered fingertip tapped out the rhythm of his thoughts.

Valentine's concentration was so intense it seemed the gunman didn't notice that one of Zack's wing hands was mimicking the rhythm of his fingers, even down to the quick double-tap that indicated he'd finished a section.

He was being hunted by the Tsviets for something called protomateria. He was an extraordinary marksman and a level-headed fighter. He harboured at least three other creatures inside him, including one that might be the key to saving the planet. He had hidden himself away in a cave for at least ten years rather than confront his new reality. He had known what both ShinRa and Hojo were capable of yet had said nothing, done nothing.

Vincent Valentine as his father rather than Hojo?

Valueless.