Chapter Fifty-One: Chain Reaction
It took twenty minutes to calm Ratcliff down; it took Cloud only ten to calm himself after seeing Zack so unexpectedly. Eventually the man's hysterical breaths subsided, but the shaking continued with little sign of stopping.
Cloud had to ask himself how the hell did everything come to this.
They had fled to the barracks, knowing no other place that they could go where the Turks couldn't easily follow. It was now full of the men from their unit, but most of them were lazing about or mingling among the tables across from their racks. The locker room and shower area remained unoccupied, so they holed themselves up in there to calm down.
They kept the lights off, as Cloud's head was pounding relentlessly and the thought of looking into a light made him nauseous. Maybe he just didn't want to see Ratcliff in the tormented state he was in.
Sitting together without a word was both awkward and frustrating. Cloud felt as though letting a moment pass without saying anything to Ratcliff would somehow make things worse. But no matter how hard he tried to focus on comforting this man, his thoughts would trail to Zack and how his heart was aching. How Cloud longed to explain himself after such a misunderstanding, and how he longed to tell Zack how much he regretted saying the things he did. How he longed to take it all away to be able to put a smile back on Zack's face.
And even so, anytime he did try to open his mouth to say something to Ratcliff about it all, nothing but a helpless silence followed.
"M-Mejia," Ratcliff eventually said, breathless.
"What?" Cloud looked to him in surprise.
"You asked how it all came to this, yeah."
"I … did?" Had he really said that aloud?
Ratcliff paused, and from what Cloud could see in the darkness was a very uncertain and fearful expression. Cloud waited patiently, even though his mind was screaming for him to continue.
"Th-that mission we all went on to the Materia cave. You p-probably don't remember what happened, at – at least not this, yeah. But, y-you were hurt." He swallowed hard, bringing a shaking hand to his hair and running it through. "G-Graves and E-Elici … they were going against M-Mejia's orders to not use materia to heal you, but you were suffering. I-I tried to distract him to give them enough time to heal you. I-I tried to sweet talk with him so he wouldn't see what they were doing, yeah. He was a s-sucker for inappropriate flirting, yeah."
Ratcliff grew quiet, reaching for his locker and opening it. He grabbed a few things out and Cloud heard his clothes rustling in the darkness. Then there were two flicks of what sounded like a lighter and then an orange glow.
The smell of familiar cigarettes passed over Cloud, and he then was reminded heavily of Graves. It struck him by such surprise that he didn't even think to remind Ratcliff that he shouldn't be smoking in the barrack, let alone ask him why he was smoking in the first place. He could see the smoldering tip quivering as the man brought it to his lips and took a long drag.
Cloud stayed as patient as he could.
Eventually Ratcliff smoked enough of the cigarette to encourage himself to speak again.
"I-I hate to admit that after I broke up with him, I-I would find myself doing that with him a lot, yeah. M-maybe I just wanted him to miss me so much that he'd – he'd change, yeah?" Another drag of the cigarette. "So, I s-strung him along sometimes. I don't know why, yeah. And I don't know why either of us gave a damn after the way he used to treat me. Y-you can ima – imagine, yeah."
Cloud nodded solemnly. He didn't know the details or extent of what Mejia had done to Ratcliff when they were together, but he had ideas.
"But the flirting – he didn't fall for it. Not after so many times of asking me to get back with him and me refusing. And back then when I had refused, it devastated him." He suddenly laughed once – sarcastic and bitter. "I g-guess that'd imply that he had some sort of compassion at some point, yeah. But the extent of his compassion only went as far as his sick mind would allow, yeah. He's like a s-spoiled brat, yeah? Doesn't get his way, he'll throw one hell of a tantrum and make you regret your decision with f-fear. And there was plenty of that, yeah.
"So the only thing I could think of was to confront him about letting that monster hurt you, yeah. If there's one thing he's a s-sucker for more than flirting is confrontation. He loves it, yeah." Ratcliff scoffed. "The ass."
They were silent again. They listened to the water dripping from the shower heads and hitting the cold tile. Ratcliff flicked the lighter again, and a new cigarette was lit just as tremulously as the previous.
"Angels … he – he told me –" He cut himself off to take a long, crackling drag again, and when he spoke next, his voice held so much nervousness that Cloud felt as though Mejia were right there looming over them. "... M-Mejia said, 'You took away my everything when you left me. I'll take everything from you.'"
Frozen and confused Cloud stood, dissecting what that could have meant, what it did mean, and what it could still mean, even in Mejia's wake.
He knew too little about their relationship. Had they been so serious to warrant such a bold statement? Had what little heart Mejia had been broken, or was it just that spoiled mentality declaring revenge on rejection?
"What the hell does that even mean? He cared about you that much?"
"Who – who knows, yeah. Sometimes I th-thought he had. There were times when he would actually be somewhat human, yeah … but … I-I can't forget the look in his eyes as he said that. It was vindictive, yeah."
"Why would he tell you something like that at such a strange time?"
"He …" Ratcliff fell silent, his breathing became heavy with that nervousness again. "He was jealous of you."
"Me!" Cloud cried out, having to thrust his hand out to steady himself against the lockers beside them. It caused Ratcliff to flinch. "Jealous? Of me!"
Ratcliff said nothing. He only sat himself down slowly on the dressing bench and sucked on the cigarette with desperation.
"What in the hell are you talking about? Is that some sort of joke –"
"No," Ratcliff said at once, barely finishing blowing the smoke out of his mouth before he spoke. "N-not a joke, yeah. I-I stopped stringing him along when y-you showed up. That cut off any hope he might've had to get me. Th-that was the s-start of it all."
Cloud stared at Ratcliff incredulously in the darkness. "But … you were friends with Elici and Graves before you were friends with me. Why in the hell did he not care about that? Why me?"
"He f-fucks with people because he can, yeah. S-sometimes there doesn't need to be a big reason behind someone's actions. There are s-sick people that do shit like that just because they can, Cloud."
Cloud couldn't argue with that, knowing firsthand. It was still all very hard to comprehend, and even more to accept that to be the driving force behind Mejia's motives.
Ratcliff must have understood Cloud's awed silence, for he continued.
"Th-think of it this way, yeah? If you saw someone trip and fall, you'd help pick them back up, yeah?"
"Of course …"
"Nobody falls for no reason. M-Mejia would be the one to have tripped that person. And you know as well as I do that he'd just step on over you, yeah."
"Or on you …" Cloud muttered.
Ratcliff suddenly laughed, even if it sounded a little forced, and it didn't last as long as it would have in the past. Cloud hated to hear it now; it reminded him of how Ratcliff used to be back when everyone was still alive and content.
After his laugh subsided, things grew awkward and cold again. Ratcliff lit up another cigarette and Cloud absently rubbed his temples, groaning to himself.
"Is this why he killed Elici?"
"P-Probably," Ratcliff said after a moment. "E-Elici ratted him out on a few occasions, yeah. M-Mejia always saw him as an ass-kisser. He hates ass-kissers, unless it's his ass you're kissing, yeah. He knew how much I cared for Elici, so that gave him even more reason. I used to have a c-crush on him for a bit, yeah," Ratcliff said, his voice a strange high pitch, as though trying to sound lighthearted.
Cloud almost laughed. Out of all the days and months he had spent with these men, living with them there at Shin-Ra and spending almost every moment together, he had never known this. There was no telltale sign nor drunken mentioning of it from his friends – nothing.
But that meant more motive for Mejia, if that was what Ratcliff was suggesting by admitting this.
"It's why he tried to get at you, I'm assuming, yeah. He knew how much I cared for you and saw how I stopped interacting with him when we became friends. He even tried asking Zack out a while ago, did you know that, yeah?" He didn't wait for Cloud to respond. "Probably saw how you two were getting so close and thought he could make all of us miserable if he took Zack from you somehow, yeah. Who knows."
Cloud had not known that, and knots began to form in his stomach and a wave of nausea hit him again. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered how long ago that had been, how Zack reacted and what he possibly said to turn him down. "Y-yeah," he slowly mumbled, and that was with which he could only respond.
Perhaps all his adrenaline was winding down from earlier and was leaving him exhausted, because he had to sit down on the bench next to Ratcliff when his body suddenly began to hurt. He put his face in his hands, no longer having the strength to prod the man for more information; what he had just learned was more than he could handle for the moment.
This didn't make sense, and yet it did. To fathom someone being so cruel and self-indulgent as to physically hurt others for the sake of revenge was a staggering thought. But this was Mejia. This was the man who had hurt Ratcliff in the past, this was the man that continued to haunt them both through a domino effect of his greedy actions.
"Making people m-miserable is all he's good at, yeah," Ratcliff muttered bitterly, and Cloud could hear the man rubbing out the last of the cigarette against the dressing bench. "You know he was the reason why …"
Cloud lifted his face from his hands and whipped his head towards Ratcliff, seeing the man stand and step to his locker again. He opened it wide and busied himself inside for a few moments; Cloud couldn't see what he was doing again.
"Why what?"
"Th-that deserter I was ordered to kill a l-long time ago. I'm – I'm sure you've heard about it, yeah. B-but Mejia was the one to give me the order to kill him," Ratcliff said sorrowfully, stopping his rummaging and looking back at Cloud in the darkness. "W-we were supposed to ap-apprehend him and that's it, yeah. But M-Mejia's sick … so – so f-fucking sick. Maybe the man looked at him f-funny one day and he decided he wanted him dead, yeah, wh-who knows. But that just goes to s-show you how f-fucked in the head he is."
Cloud looked away with a single nod. After what he did to Elici, hearing this only made perfect sense.
"And … Graves," Ratcliff murmured.
"What about Graves?"
Ratcliff paused his rummaging. "W-well … he was chasing after M-Mejia, you know."
"What does he have to do with Mejia? I mean … didn't you … weren't you the one to …" He fell silent.
"I … I lied."
"About Graves?"
Ratcliff sucked in a breath to speak, but the lights above suddenly flashed on, and Cloud cringed as pain erupted from his eyes and into his head. He covered his face and heard Ratcliff scrambling with whatever he was doing inside his locker before slamming it shut.
"N-never mind … f-forget it, yeah?" he said as some men from the barracks made their way through the lockers to the showers.
One of those men spotted them, and a wide smirk crawled onto his face. "Looks like we interrupted something," he said suggestively, motioning to the both of them, as they certainly looked more than a little disheveled in their state. A few of the others chuckled along with him.
Ratcliff looked as though he were about to blow up on these men, but he just gritted his teeth and turned away. "We – we'll talk later," he muttered, and Cloud only nodded.
They then both fled from the sanctity of the locker room, and knowing no where else to go, Cloud crawled into his bunk in the hope to sleep his headache off, and Ratcliff slipped out to not return until later on that night while everyone was asleep, drunk and a hysterical mess again.
Ratcliff's hangover in the morning was horrible. At first Cloud was contributing the man's dark circles, clammy skin and sluggish movements to it, but as the morning went on it was obvious that it had only played a small role in the man's appearance and behavior at first. Perhaps it had been his lack of nutrition throughout the weeks that began to finally take a dominating effect on him, as Cloud noted during their meal times Ratcliff only snacked lightly on whatever he could buy from the vending machines or from convenience stores in Midgar. He even went as far as trading gil for MREs from their fellow barrack mates.
It seemed as though Ratcliff was sticking by his allegations of Shin-Ra poisoning the both of them, and Cloud was left to wonder why would they would possibly become targets. Cloud knew that if it were true, it would have something to do with what really happened in Nibelheim. But Cloud was not involved in that, so why would he become a target for such a scheme?
It was quite a subtle way to dispose of someone, when Cloud thought about it. It would ensure the least amount of suspicion, and since Shin-Ra practically owned their men through written contracts and fear, the mysterious deaths of two infantrymen would easily be covered up with slander, and maybe a little bribery or blackmail on the coroner's part.
Which upon reflection made the thought of strange things happening in Dr. Bleier's office seem much more probable.
In a twisted way, Cloud couldn't wait for Friday to come so he could listen in on Ratcliff's session again. The last one had not been too successful during, but what he had learned afterwards began to shed a little bit of light on what Ratcliff could be thinking or experiencing. And for Ratcliff to open up to him in the locker room like that meant that he might be coming close to some sort of breakthrough with him. Perhaps the next time they talked he would be able to prod for further information as to what really happened in Nibelheim, even though in the pit of Cloud's stomach he was dreading the answer.
But Friday was coming around very slowly. Too slowly, in fact, and Cloud found himself struggling to concentrate on anything but the onslaught of worry and anxiousness he was feeling. And it was certainly showing. Barrack mates began to take notice and heckle him, calling him a slacker during patrols when he would unintentionally space out, or a 'Broke Dick' when his headache would leave him incapacitated for a few hours.
It was bad enough that he was getting teased for his motion sickness. His unit had been called to duty when reports of sightings of Genesis Copy came in, and while on the transport to the slums where they were assigned their search, he had vomited. It really was nothing new, but it just added fuel to the 'Broke Dick' fire and the attention he received only added to the alienation he had been feeling as of late.
He was getting teased a lot more now, or at least it felt that way now that Elici and Graves were gone, and Ratcliff seemed to be in his own little world. Maybe no one had bothered to tease him because he had them at his side, or maybe he could deal with the taunts and jeers he received, because with them, things like that just seemed insignificant compared to all the laughs they had.
Or maybe he was just getting weak.
A few hours dragged by on their mission, and all they really ran into were monsters, which were scrambling beneath the debris below the plates. It was a tiring task, as most of the time the monsters hid and they were forced to flush them out by overturning the debris or using scare tactics. Their only saving grace was that some of the monsters liked to hide where population was scarce between the Sectors, and so if a stray bullet were to miss its target, they didn't have to worry so much about it hitting a bystander.
The mission as a whole went terrible. He could barely follow Haskin's orders and found himself so disorientated to the point of having forgotten how to cast a simple Fire spell while under pressure. It wasn't helping that Haskin was barking at him from behind, or that the sound of their assault rifles firing off rounds was wrecking havoc on his head, but it took him a moment to right himself and cast the spell. The energy he had put forth into casting it was not enough, and Haskin had to come in from behind to finish off one of the monsters.
Cloud then would rather have listened to their rifles firing at pointblank without ear protection than the tongue-lashing he received from Haskin.
Ratcliff too was subject to the man's now-strained vocal chords. It seemed as though Ratcliff was not doing any better than Cloud, and inaccurate shots with careless spell-casting was making that apparent. Neither of their hearts were in it, or their attention spans, and so Haskin started to push them harder in battle.
Towards the end, the other men on the mission sat back and merely watched Cloud and Ratcliff as they were ordered to handle the last of the monsters on their own, per Haskin's punishment for their 'slacking'. It was becoming like a sporting event for them, and behind their backs the men began to take bets on who would collapse from exhaustion first. Most bets were on Cloud.
And with how his body was feeling, he didn't really blame them for their decision. It soon became too much for him, and when they finally did encounter a Genesis Copy, he was easily overwhelmed.
It was strong – too strong for him even if he were at full strength and of sound mind. By the time the others realized what was going on and came over to help fend the Copy off, Cloud had already been knocked to the ground and Ratcliff fell beside him.
After the Genesis Copy was disposed of and reported, the men seemed more concerned about exchanging gil than tending to Cloud's injured shoulder and Ratcliff's bleeding head. They both had been hit so hard that one of Cloud's pauldrons cracked and Ratcliff's helmet now lay in several pieces in his hands, and both were so weakened that they had to be helped back to the vehicle even after a basic Cure spell was finally administered.
When they reached the Shin-Ra building, they were greeted with utter chaos. The reports of the Genesis Copies had just been a diversion, causing Shin-Ra to mobilize troops and send them out on a wild goose chase throughout Midgar, weakening their defenses back at headquarters.
Now plumes of black smoke billowed from gaping holes in the building and flashes of red peeked through, whether from fire or the alert system rigged throughout the hallways. SOLDIERs and infantrymen alike scattered around, trying to resume some sort of order throughout the hordes of frightened office workers, executives and scientists that were useless in the aftermath of the attack. The damage was staggering, but it seemed as though there was a good handle on the situation outside the building.
They reported in with Kunsel in the underground garage, which the only damage there was from opportunists taking advantage of the discord by breaking into a few of the more expensive-looking vehicles and looting through. He informed them that their unit was safe, but several floors and wings were damaged inside the building and the infirmary was full of injured. Upon the word injured, his eyes fell onto both Cloud and Ratcliff, and then onto Haskin.
After Haskin briefed him on what had transpired on their mission and why Cloud and Ratcliff were in the state they were, Kunsel ordered Haskin and the others to the main lobby to help with the relief efforts, but not after a tongue-lashing of his own for allowing such an error of judgment to happen.
Haskin tried to argue that it was because of their alleged 'slacking' that got them into the mess, but Kunsel dismissed him with a few choice words and threats of punishments. It was quite gratifying seeing Haskin slump off with the other men for more hours of hard work.
Now both Cloud and Ratcliff stood at a wobbly attention in wait for some sort of order from Kunsel, but the SOLDIER just stared at them for a long time, trying to make sense of what happened, what was wrong with them to cause them to be so spacy, and then what to inevitably do with them. In the end, he ordered them back to the barracks to rest, seeing as the infirmary was full and how neither of them would go to it anyway.
And as he ordered Ratcliff back first, he waited until the man got out of earshot before grabbing Cloud by the arm and quietly telling him that not only would the barracks be empty for most of the night, but the Turks would be busy with the attack on the building, so now would be the time to try and get information out of Ratcliff. He released Cloud's arm and dismissed him.
Cloud hurried after Ratcliff and they made their way to the barracks through a sea of frantic SOLDIERs and infantrymen. It was indeed chaotic, and they were hardly taken notice of by anyone who passed. He hoped that Kunsel was right in assuming that the Turks would be too busy to pay them any mind, because he could only imagine what would happen if they were seen talking together privately.
They reached their barrack and were a bit relieved to see that it suffered no damage in the attack. It was empty and dark, and immediately Cloud began to feel tired the moment he set his gear down on his bunk. His shoulder was throbbing with a possible sprain, along with everywhere else on his body. He could tell that Ratcliff was feeling the same, as he rolled onto Elici's bunk instead of climbing up his own after tossing his shattered helmet up there with his gear.
He lay with his back turned for a while and Cloud was starting to fear that they both would fall asleep before any information could be extracted. Little was said between them, mostly a few-word sentences about how stupid Haskin and the others were acting. After a while, Ratcliff quieted, but Cloud could hear his stomach growling and he shifted uncomfortably afterwards. Ratcliff must have been starving.
Upon hearing this for several minutes, Cloud offered to get something from the vending machine for him, and after a moment of contemplating, Ratcliff agreed. So Cloud mustered up what little energy he had left and slipped out of the barrack in search for a snack for the both of them. He too was starving after vomiting up his only meal earlier that day.
First he tried the vending machine near their barracks, but he had forgotten that it changed over to cigarettes a while ago when Graves had bitched enough about having to go down six floors before he reached a vending machine that had sold them. He was able to rally enough men in their barracks and the surrounding barracks to have it changed over. Apparently they valued smoking more than food.
Cloud tried another wing of their floor, but it only housed unfamiliar barracks and laundry rooms. Two more floors he tried, both proving to be unsuccessful. He managed to find another vending machine, but it too had been looted much like the cars beneath the building had from very advantageous men.
Searching more was getting difficult as he moved about the building, weaving between people and rubble-littered hallways. The more and more he looked, the more of the damage he began to see from the attack on the building. Large, gaping holes spanned the length of the corridors and offices; charred remains of furniture lay in scattered heaps which made it rough to traverse through some parts; and bullet holes dotted along walls and windows with intimidating flair.
This was now becoming quite the lost cause. He started to lose his patience and considered heading back. It was ridiculous to be doing this in all the chaos and confusion of the building, but he thought of how hungry Ratcliff must have been and how malnourished he must have been getting, especially from his dismal performance today during the mission. Although Cloud's wasn't much better.
It was surreal to be wandering around looking for a snack of all things, while everyone else was bustling about in haste with trying to clear walkways and assess the damages. Employees looked flustered and turned around, trying to make sense of which way to go and how to get there, as rooms and corridors were blocked by wreckage, making it hard to reach certain areas of the building.
Even Cloud had a hard time navigating around, and he usually had a very good sense of direction from growing up in the mountains. He never had a problem with their land navigation training or simulations, so to suddenly be confused as to where he was and from which way he came was concerning. Nothing looked familiar anymore, and the posted signs that normally told him which way to go if he were to get a little lost were now too damaged or completely missing from their spots on the walls.
He stopped the next person he passed – a 3rd Class SOLDIER – and with a polite salute and surely a reddened face he inquired about the nearest vending machine. He held his breath in fear of yet another tongue-lashing, for this SOLDIER looked pushed to the edge from the events of the day. But the young man actually looked quite relieved to assist, probably thinking it a relief from all the turmoil and panicked questions he most likely had received all day. The SOLDIER directed Cloud three floors down and listed off surprisingly detailed directions on how to get there and what items he would exactly find in the machine.
All of which Cloud forgot by the time he reached the three floors down.
He was now standing in a corridor that looked as though a wrecking ball had smashed through … and then smashed through again. It was somewhat traversable, if not a little dangerous for the clumsy individual, but the lack of lights above made things hard to see. The only light was a single bulb flickering lazily above with an equally lazy buzz, and the light of the moon shining through the impressive hole that now looked out on the city below.
He continued on through the remains of the hallways in search, slowly realizing that he was now very turned around and very lost. He found that he was unable to pull his thoughts together to try to find a way out of whatever damaged wing he was in. At this point he wasn't even sure as to which floor he was on. He couldn't even tell what this floor was designated for from all the damage, and slight panic began to well in his chest.
His head had been pounding again, and badly. Even if those signs were still there and the hallways were clear, his sudden blurring vision was stopping him from keeping track of where he had gone and to where he was going. He was aware that he was becoming disorientated – he knew that much – and he stumbled to the nearest wall, palming it as he walked to steady himself as best he could.
The remaining light above burnt out with a crack, and even the moonlight seemed to be disappearing. Cloud could no longer see where he was going from darkness wrapping around his vision from the pain, and he had to sit down on the nearest object before he became worse and toppled over from swaying.
He desperately tried to keep his mind wrapped around solid thoughts, as the feeling that they were slipping away was soon stronger than the strength in his body. But he was quickly worsening, and nauseating pains pulsated through his head. He lost his balance, slumping off whatever he had been sitting on and he fell between huge chunks of debris.
The muscles in his body now refused to move from the pain. He felt some of that debris sliding off and covering him, and now the only worried thought in his head was that he would pass out and not be found.
Cloud lay there motionless and helpless for what must have been an hour, maybe a bit less. He only knew this from opening his eyes a crack and seeing the shadows that the moonlight created in the hallway shifting away, casting him further into darkness. But even opening his eyes and moving them that little bit – being the only thing he dare move – was causing his head such agony. He closed them again, silently willing himself to ease. He almost wished that he would pass out, if it meant to reawaken and be pain-free.
There was a growing sound coming from down the hallway. Two pairs of footsteps walking; two voices. One was talking about the damages and about following the leads they received about the Genesis Copies, and the other was blandly replying with disinterested grunts and hums of acknowledgment.
They stopped when they got to the large gap in the wall. Cloud peeled his eyes open to see them standing in front of it and staring out, silhouetted by the dim lights of the city. One was short and female, flecks of auburn hair catching in what little light there was. The female Turk maybe? The other was tall and male with what looked like a normally proud stance that was now sagged and apathetic as the female Turk spoke about the hole.
"Are you listening to anything I'm saying, Zack?" said the female voice, annoyed.
Cloud's heart slammed in his chest, lifting his eyes up to the figures and straining to make out the features of the man standing there.
Zack turned, and the first and only thing that Cloud was able to see was that same expression of unbelievable hurt still etched in Zack's face; it had not changed at all … not one bit.
They conversed for several minutes, Zack's voice having no trace of any sort of happiness, his body language dulled. Cloud tried to utter a sound, but his head was searing and his chest was heavy with both the weight of debris and his own guilt. He wanted to call out to him, to tell him that he was all wrong … to tell him that he was sorry.
To tell him to never wear that face again …
They finished their conversation and started to walk off. Cloud tried to reach out towards him; the pain in his head spread throughout his body like wildfire.
To tell him that he …
"Za–"
Zack stopped, turning towards Cloud's direction at the small peep he managed to utter.
"What's wrong?" the female Turk asked, stopping as well.
"Thought I heard something," Zack murmured, peering right at Cloud but unable to see him shrouded in shadow.
"This floor has already been searched for the injured and dead. It's probably a rat," the female Turk said, waving her flashlight around the area but never revealing anything. "This place is crawling with them." She started to walk off with an indifferent stride. "Sometimes I think those science geeks let them out to watch the women in this building squirm for entertainment." She disappeared down the hall, leaving Zack standing and staring by himself.
He strained the muscles in his arm, but nothing seemed to work. Vocal chords were gone.
Cloud wanted to tell Zack everything.
"Yeah," Zack muttered, turning away. "You're probably right." He too disappeared.
… To be continued in Chapter Fifty-Two: Not Far to Run.
Ending Author's Note: Sorry, everyone. In my last author's note I got the date wrong. I said June 17th, but I meant the 21st. My bad … teehee. C:
The term 'broke dick' is a derogatory term for someone in the military who is always getting injured or faking injury to evade their military duties.
The 3rd Class SOLDIER in this chapter that Cloud stopped is my roleplay OC Nodin Gervase … he has an obsession with the vending machines in the building and has cataloged every single one in Shin-Ra and keeps a very accurate and staggering list of where each is located and which machines carry which products, the prices, and what days of the week they are serviced by the vendors. He's just in here for my own amusement. Lololol Who knows, he might make another appearance one day …
Also, I changed "shoulder armor" to the more technical term "pauldrons" and will be referring to them as such from here on out.
I have a feeling some of you are frustrated with my "dragging things out", but trust me this all has purpose and will wrap up really soon. I'm predicting about chapter 53 or 54 it will wrap up. It'll be worth it, trust me! I really, really appreciate your patience, understanding and support while this plot arc revolves around my OC and Cloud. But I figured by now the majority of people who are still reading this story by this point support (or at least tolerate) my OCs and acknowledge their significance as plot devices. Everything I write and the pace at which I write has a purpose. I don't feel as though I should apologize per se, and I don't think anyone expects me to, but I did want to address this as I do know a few of you *cough**cough*are feeling a bit frustrated over the lack of Clack.
But what's this? Some Clack interactions next chapter? Why yes … yes there is. 8D
FAN-ART ALERT!
BeforeTheMomentGirl on deviantART again has drawn me two more pieces of fan-art! Both are from Chapter Fifty: Overturned! (Remove the spaces in the web address!):
h t t p : / / beforethemomentgirl. deviantart. com / art / malady-Fanart-Ch-50-211585159
and
h t t p : / / beforethemomentgirl. deviantart. com / art / Malady-Fanart-Ch-50-Again-213329448
And speaking of BeforeTheMomentGirl, I do believe it's her birthday today! Happy Birthday, dear! C:
And lady-yuna7 drew chibi Ratcliff! He's so chunky and adorable and squeezable and nommable! Check him out! (Remove the spaces in the web address!):
h t t p : / / lady-yuna7. deviantart. com / art / Ratcliff-chibi-211105778
What an adorable booberry. C: Oh, and Ratcliff is adorable too. ;3 LOL I love you, yunie.
And if none of these links work, they are in my profile, or you can find them in my favorites on my deviantART account.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! Didn't get around to thank everyone who did individually. Some drama happened with my family and is kinda still going on, so I've been a bit preoccupied with things lately. Slowed down my writing a bit. I know, same old story with me, but it's true.
That said, next chapter will be Tuesday, July 19th. And yes, I double-checked the date. XD
Smell ya later. LOL
