A\N: I can't believe there's only one chapter left.

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THE STARS WE DREAMED OF

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26

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Tifa wakes up to silence. Her vision is spotty, blurred; she is surrounded by darkness and the unknown. Danger grabs hold of her, the sensation intense and irrational; she has no idea why she is feeling like this, and it scares her. Her fear skyrockets when she notices moving is difficult—running away will be impossible, the thought fueling her panic.

A door closing catches her attention. Though the noise sounds distorted, far away, Tifa snaps out of her agitation and looks around for a place to hide. Her movements are slow and uncoordinated as she drags herself under the desk; awkwardness takes control of her body, and she bumps into the swiveling chair, sending it into the wall. Despite her dazed state, Tifa understands this can't be good. Footsteps come closer and louder, rounding up on her—Tifa tries to get to her feet as the intruder comes upon her. She doesn't recognize them through the shadows and the confusion; she tries to step away as she stands but loses her balance and goes tumbling down.

"Tifa!"

The stranger grabs her before she hits the ground. Her head spins at the sudden overload of motion. As her vision clears, the man's face comes into focus.

"Vincent?" The hoarseness of her voice surprises her. It's as if she's screamed for hours on end, but then—

It hits her at once. The experiments, Dr. Hojo, the President—the mako derivative they injected her with. The never-ending, horrible pain that speared through her for—for… How long has it been since she was first injected?

"I'm still alive?" she wonders aloud. Her throat scratches in protest.

Vincent steers her towards the chair. "You need to sit"

Tifa does. "I thought—I thought no one survived."

"They never survive the whole experiment. I went and got you this." He hands her a pill. "It's a stimulant—we'll need to hurry and you'll be in no shape otherwise," Vincent says as he leaves her to go check the door.

They're in an office, Tifa notices as she swallows the pill dry, which means they must still be inside the Tower. Her head hurts as she tries to remember how she got here. Vincent comes back to her side, urgency in his eyes.

"Can you stand?"

"I'm not sure," she admits. "Vincent—" The rasp is barely audible, scratchy and weak. "What happened?"

He shakes his head. "We've already stayed here too long. Come on, I'll help you."

Vincent supports her weight as she tries to stand up; her legs tremble from the effort, but she manages to walk with his help. At the door, Vincent takes a second to check if the coast is clear.

"We're gonna have to go fast, alright?"

Though she's not sure if she'll manage, Tifa knows she has no other choice. "Okay."

He pushes the door open once he deems it safe, and they take off down the large corridor. Tifa hears shouted orders and pounding footsteps, but they get faint as Vincent leads them to a service elevator. He scans a keycard and the door opens.

"Do you have a place to go in Sector 3?" He presses a button and the car moves.

She nods. The motion increases her dizziness.

"They'll have spotted us on the cameras, so it won't be long before someone comes after us. I know you're weak right now, but you'll have to push through."

"Alright," she whispers.

"You were lucky Hojo didn't administer the whole treatment." Vincent shifts so her weight is easier to bear.

"How long have I been here?"

"A little over two days. The Carriers in Research die after five days or so," he adds when she doesn't reply.

Over two days—Tifa gasps when she realizes the date. Tonight was the tentative date to execute the Reactor plan.

"Did you call—"

"Wait. We're almost there."

Vincent helps her lean against the wall. He pulls out his gun from his waist holster and another one from under his jacket; he hands the second one to Tifa. The weapon is heavier than it should be in her hands, and she's not sure she'll be able to hold it steady enough to shoot. Vincent crosses the elevator to stand on the opposite side, next to the door.

"Hopefully, you won't need it," Vincent tells her, keeping his eyes on the door. "But we might have company waiting, so stay alert."

He raises his weapon as the car comes to a gentle stop; the doors slide open to reveal two soldiers, their rifles pointed at Vincent, as if knowing right now he is the bigger threat.

"Hand over the girl, Agent Valentine." The soldier who spoke lifts her gun a little higher. The insignia on her uniform marks her as a corporal. "Captain's orders."

"I only answer to the President," Vincent says, cold threat dripping from his voice, "and the President is dead."

He fires as he says the last word, hitting the corporal in the shoulder below her clavicle. She screams and drops her rifle, but Vincent has moved on to the one who stepped back to take cover. Tifa keeps her eyes on the corporal; it looks like Vincent hit a big artery from all the blood flowing, but she's still standing and looking ready to fight.

"You're coming with me," the corporal hisses as she walks into the elevator.

Tifa does her best to avoid the woman grabbing her, but her movements are still sluggish, and her attempt at evasion fails. The corporal slams her into the wall, her good arm across Tifa's throat as a warning not to move. Tifa's grip on the gun loosens from the impact; it falls to the floor.

"I'm not going back." Tifa's pants mix with the grunts and the shots outside the elevator; she watches the doors close, sealing her inside with the corporal.

"You don't have a choice. We've got some questions about the intruder. Now come on."

Tifa takes a second to notice the corporal's sweat and pale skin—she's losing too much blood and is getting weaker. When the corporal goes to take her handcuffs, she has no choice but to lift her hold on Tifa, her other arm dangling at her side. The second she does, Tifa lets all of her weight drop, collapsing on the floor. Swearing, the corporal steps back in surprise, and with the little strength she has left, Tifa kicks the soldier's knee in with her heel, using the downward angle to her advantage. With a howl, the corporal falls back and then trips, crashing to the floor. Though the injury isn't severe, it destabilizes her long enough to give Tifa time to grab the gun she'd dropped. She doesn't hesitate as she lifts the weapon and points it at the corporal. In the state she's in, her aim is shaky at best, but she makes sure to go for the chest area, knowing it'll be easier to miss.

"Do it, Carrier." The corporal's unsteady breathing dampens her mocking tone. "Monsters like you shouldn't hesitate."

The words only have Tifa tighten her grip on the gun. "If I'm a monster, it's because this world made me one," she whispers before pulling the trigger.

The bullet doesn't hit where she'd wanted it—the middle of the chest, closer to the heart—but it finds its target nonetheless. Tifa fires a second time. Blood bubbles out of the three gunshot wounds, and the corporal chokes as it fills her mouth. It doesn't take long for her eyes to close.

"You were bleeding out, anyway," Tifa says, her voice little more than a wheeze. "I was just going to put you out of your misery." She nudges the corporal's head with her boot; it falls limp on the other side, obscuring her face to Tifa. "But you didn't deserve to hear that."

She lets her body drop and sits down. When the doors slide open, she's not quick enough to whirl around and raise the gun; she relaxes as she sees Vincent, his immaculate suit soiled with blood. He takes in the scene.

"I'd say sorry to have been late, but you managed pretty well."

"I'm usually a bit faster," Tifa says, wryness entering her voice.

Vincent sends her a worried glance as he helps her get up; he grabs her arm and slings it over his shoulder. "Your ability hasn't come back?"

She shakes her head, not wanting to verbalize the loss aloud, and pulls away from him. "I think I can walk." Her labored breathing doesn't lend much credit to her statement, but Vincent lets go.

"The moment you feel too weak, tell me," is all he says before signaling at her to follow him.

They're in a large utility tunnel and to her left is a stairwell. Tifa can't see the end; being pursued in this enclosed space isn't a notion she wants to consider.

"Is there anything we can use to block the entrance to the stairwell?"

Vincent stops a few feet away and twists to face her. "We don't have time for that."

"But if they come after us, we're done."

"We'll be fine if we hurry." He doesn't wait for her to protest more and grabs her hand, dragging her forward. "They'll be expecting a report soon; when they don't get one, they'll come down here. By then, we should be outside."

Tifa stumbles from the sudden tug but finds her balance before going down. She snatches her hand back. "Alright, if you say so."

By the time they've reached a door leading outside, Tifa can stand a little better; the stimulant must have kicked in at some point. Still, she leans against the wall as Vincent inputs a code to open the door, hoping to catch her breath.

"You said there's a place you can go in Sector 3. Where is it?" The door whistles open, and he steps outside, gun in hand. Tifa follows, though her weapon stays tucked in her waistband; the unnecessary weight in her hands only tires her more.

"Close to Station 3-35." She takes in her surroundings, trying to situate herself. The utility tunnel doesn't open on the street but on the Tower's private property. From afar, she can spot the telltale sign of a train station, though the name is illegible. "Which one is that?" She points at the station in question.

"That's 3-38. We're on the edge of Sector 4." He walks away from the door, and she goes after him.

That's not bad, Tifa thinks as they sneak across Shinra Tower's grounds and towards the streets. To her shock, there is barely any security in the area.

"Where are all the guards?" she asks.

Vincent doesn't slow down. "Otherwise occupied. There are mobs forming around the Tower in most Sectors."

"Why?"

The shouts cut whatever Vincent was about to say; Tifa looks behind her only to witness six soldiers exiting the tunnel and coming after them. She hears Vincent mutter curses before he takes off in a run into the streets. Mustering all the energy she has, Tifa goes after him, but the distance grows quickly. He disappears around a corner, and she loses sight of him. Tifa feels her strength draining, her steps slowing, the soldiers coming closer; she turns the same corner and holds in a scream when someone grabs her arm.

"It's me," Vincent whispers. "This way."

He pulls her deeper into the alleyway, towards the next street.

"Vincent—" Tifa pants. "I don't think I can—" Her next breath comes out in a wheeze, and her legs wobble. She would have fallen if Vincent didn't hold her arm. "I can't make it," she rasps.

"Oh, you will." He forces her to stand straight. "But you'll have to do it alone."

"I told you—"

Vincent doesn't let her talk. "You're not far. We've almost made it to 3-37. Stay away from the crowds, that's where the soldiers will be."

She watches with wide eyes as he reloads his gun. "What about you?"

"I'm buying you time." Vincent's head snaps the way they came as yells echo in the night. "Go!" He pushes her in the direction she should head in; it makes her stumble. "I swore I'd get you to safety. This is how I do it."

"Vincent—"

Without another word, he runs around the corner. For a second, Tifa stares at the space he was in, but then she twists on her heels and takes off towards Avalanche's hideout. The gunfire resonates as she reaches the mouth of the alley and turns left, leaving Vincent behind. She attempts to run, wanting to cover as much distance as possible, but it soon decelerates into a jog and then into a walk.

By the time she finds Station 3-36, she can't stay up anymore. Tears well in her eyes as her frustration grows. She didn't want to leave Vincent behind; part of her wants to turn back still, and yet, she can't find the will to do it. Despite knowing it's a risk, Tifa flops down on a bench at a bus station. She needs the rest if she wants to carry on. The sudden halt in movement has her shiver—all she has on are her boots, jeans, and a thin turtleneck. She rubs her hands against her arms.

That's when she notes all the people flooding the street; it starts slow, a trickle here and there until it looks like the entire neighborhood came out of their homes. Some stay huddled together in small groups on the sides, others march down towards... Tifa blinks as she realizes they're going for the middle of the city—for Shinra Tower. Didn't Vincent mention mobs? And to avoid crowds?

"Excuse me," she calls out to a middle-aged couple as they walk past her. They stop and their eyes widen as they take her in. "What's happening?"

"We're waiting for an announcement," the man says, his tone excited.

Tifa blinks, confused. "What announcement?"

"Oh, dear. What happened to you? Here, use this." The woman takes off her jacket and drapes it over Tifa's shoulder. It's too big and smells like perfume, but Tifa doesn't care—she thanks the lady and puts the jacket on, zipping it all the way up. "Don't look at me like that, Patrick," the woman chides her partner when he starts to protest. "I have warm enough clothes on. She needs it more. To answer your question," she says to Tifa, "it seems Rufus Shinra died earlier. People found his body in the street and word has been spreading around. Photos, too, though I wouldn't advise looking at them. They're not very pretty."

"What?" Tifa whispers.

"Seems impossible, I know." The lady's voice lowers. "You didn't hear it from me, but I'm quite sure he didn't jump on his own."

A whistle cuts through the air, making most of the crowd freeze, but Tifa jumps to her feet, conditioned panic at the sound of a raid kicking in.

"Oh, dear," the woman says again. "This can't be good."

Tifa's heartbeat increases when the soldiers step out of their trucks. She fumbles with the woman's jacket. "I have to go. Th—thanks for lending me your jacket." Her hands shake as she tries to unzip it.

The lady's hand comes up to cover hers, squeezing in a reassuring gesture. "Keep it."

"I can't—I—"

"Darling," the woman says with all the patience in the world. "I understand. Just keep it." A breeze rustles Tifa's hair and her eyes widen in comprehension. The night is calm and freezing, but there was no wind—the woman is a Carrier.

Everything catches up to Tifa suddenly, all the emotions and the fear and the danger, and her voice cracks. "Thank you."

At the woman's gentle smile, Tifa nods and jogs in the opposite direction from the soldiers as they round up people and ask for IDs. Tifa slips into a side street, keeping a moderate pace so she can save up energy in case she needs to run away. She'll need to go around the crowd if she wants to get to Station 3-35. The leftover fog in her mind begins to clear, and she finds her way more easily, registering street names and landmarks. Finally, Station 3-35 comes into view. Tifa heads right of the station, deeper into the Sector until she finds the building Avalanche uses as a hideout.

Tifa slips inside after making sure no one followed her. She groans at the sight of the stairs but takes a deep breath and begins ascending—there are only two floors to go. The climb is slow and painful, and she has to stop several times to catch her breath. A distant noise startles her as she reaches the second floor; Tifa pushes away from the wall she was resting against and pads to the door leading to the hideout itself. Hopefully, the noise originated from the streets, and no one came after her. She twists the doorknob, sighing now that she got here. There should be supplies, food, and clothes inside. Then she can focus on contacting Avalanche.

The door is ripped from her hands and Tifa comes face to face with a gun—and Barret. His eyes widen as he takes her in; he lowers the gun but says nothing.

"Barret?" All the walking and running she did amplified the hoarseness of her voice. "Why are you here?"

"Tifa!" The cry comes from Yuffie, who stops herself from tackling Tifa into a hug at the last second. "Wow, you look terrible."

"I—I need to sit," is all Tifa can say.

"Let her inside, you bunch of idiots," Cid yells from somewhere in the room.

A still speechless Barret steps aside while Yuffie helps Tifa to the nearest chair. She sits, faintly registering she is trembling—from both fear and exhaustion, but also from the overwhelming relief. A gentle hand comes to rest on her shoulder, and Tifa looks up to see Jesse and Wedge to her right; she squeezes Jesse's hand in thanks.

"It's good to see you," Wedge whispers.

"You too. All of you."

Tifa's eyes find Cid's as he walks up to her. That's when she notices something is wrong—missing. Cloud is nowhere to be seen. Before she can ask, Cid crouches next to her.

"Are you alone?" he asks in his usual gruff tone.

Her throat closes up, and she nods.

Cid closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as if calming himself down, then gets to his feet. The silence carries on for a moment until Yuffie speaks up.

"Cloud wasn't with you?"

"No," she says softly. "Vincent helped me escape."

Cid, Wedge, and Jesse share confused glances, but Tifa can't be bothered to explain who Vincent is. She bites her lip as she remembers how she left him to fight alone.

"Where is Cloud? Why are you all here?"

Her questions hang in the air. Then, Barret comes to kneel before her; his eyes shine with unshed tears, and relief mixes with regret as he stares at her.

"Cloud went into Shinra Tower to get you out," he says.

Tifa sucks in a sharp breath at his words.

"We were on our way to the control center," Cid jumps in, "but Barret decided to turn back and wait here. Cloud was supposed to come here once he'd gotten you out."

The realization that Barret chose her over blowing up the control center slaps Tifa, and she shakes her head. "You shouldn't have come back."

Barret grabs her hand, forcing her to look at him. "It was never a real choice, Tifa. I know what you would have wanted, and I tried to see it through, but…" He gulps down the emotions rising in his voice. "I couldn't do it—not if it meant giving up the smallest chance of seeing you again."

"Barret…" Tears fall down, and Tifa wipes them away clumsily. "I know what it cost you."

"No price is too high, kiddo, not for you." He straightens to his feet, sending everyone a glare when he notices them staring.

"So you weren't inside the Tower?" Jesse asks as she sits down on the windowsill so she can keep watch on the street.

"I was. They brought me to a lab and—" Tifa swallows, her throat dry at the memory of Hojo and his injections. "I don't remember how I got out, but I woke up in an office and Vincent was—"

"Wait," Jesse cuts her off with an apologetic glance. "What's happening out there?"

Barret walks over to the window and pushes the blinds back. "Riots?"

"Looks like it…"

At this, Tifa remembers the kind lady's words; she clears her throat to get their attention. "Rufus Shinra is dead," she tells them. "Fell from the Tower."

The silence that follows is almost oppressive. Tifa gets to her feet to search for food, hunger hitting her at last. Wedge hands her a protein bar before she can make more than three steps, and she sits back down. Eating slowly proves hard, but she paces herself, knowing devouring the protein bar will only lead to her being sick.

Jesse is the first one to break the quiet. "You mean someone killed him?"

"I don't know for sure," Tifa says once she's done chewing her bite. "But I doubt he jumped on his own."

Cid crosses his arm across his chest. "So what you're saying is that someone inside Shinra Tower murdered him?"

His question is met with a gasped, "Oh my god," from Yuffie; Tifa closes her eyes in understanding and wills her pulse to slow down. Her nails dig into her palm.

"Cloud," she breathes out. "It has to be him."

"That damn kid," Cid mumbles. He kicks a chair, but not hard enough to make it fall.

The news of Shinra's death causes everyone to talk all at once, and their voices become background noise as Tifa hears the distant ghost of a memory.

Tifa, hey, hey—I'm here, okay? We're getting out of here, all right? I have to go. I promise, okay, I promise I'll be back. You'll be fine.

"He was there," she whispers to no one, yet they all turn to her. "I remember a little—he's the one who got me out of the lab, then—" Her voice breaks at the thought of him still in the Tower, or worse. "I don't know why, but he wasn't there when I woke up. Vincent was—" She rests her head in her hand as she remembers Vincent's parting words. I swore I'd get you to safety. This is how I do it. "He asked Vincent to get me out."

She inhales deeply to keep her calm. Around her, the members of Avalanche don't say anything, and she's thankful for it.

"He must still be inside the Tower," she continues. "If not, he might come here."

"Should we wait?"

Yuffie's question is addressed to Barret, but the latter stares at Tifa for an answer. She can't bring herself to reply. Of course, she'd want to wait, but she also knows it might not be possible. With the mobs forming and the riots Jesse saw, staying here much longer might not be safe for any of them.

"Jesse, how does it look outside?" Barret asks once it becomes clear Tifa won't speak.

"Bad. Soldiers are starting to round up people and—" Gunfire interrupts her. Shouted orders and whistles and screams follow. "Well…"

Tifa seeks Cid's gaze. He sighs, and she sees the pain in his expression. His hands ball into fists before he says, "We can't stay here."

"Cid is right." They all focus on her. "It's not safe."

Her words trigger everyone to start packing up whatever they can bring in silence. She senses Barret come up to her side but doesn't look at him. She doesn't want to see the understanding and the regret in his eyes.

"Are you sure, kiddo?"

Tifa nods. "Can we go back home?"

"The trains will probably be stopped or heavily regulated. It might be hard."

"So where do we go?"

"For now, we just try to find somewhere safe." There's no ignoring the glimmer of dismay in his voice.

From the corner of the room, Cid speaks up. "Are you letting this chance go, Barret? Rufus Shinra is dead, and they will think we did it. Whichever fucker takes control of the Corp will think we did, and so will the people. Should we really do nothing, then?"

"Cid—"

"We have everything with us—weapons and the bomb. We can still make it to the control center."

Barret frowns. "It would be riskier now with all the security. I'm not gonna ask anyone to come on this mission now."

"What if we want to?" All heads snap to Wedge, who comes forward, putting aside the supplies he was packing. "What if we're willing to take the risks?"

Jesse pushes away from the window. "Cid is right. It's an opportunity we won't have again. Please, Barret—let us see this through."

There's no denying the liveliness that takes hold of Barret, even though he tries to temper it. "You all know what you're getting into, right? No turning back this time around."

"We've always known, Boss." Jesse grins. "It's never stopped us."

"Fine by me, then."

Barret blows out a loud breath before facing Tifa. She stands before he can speak.

"I'm coming too."

"No," he states like she anticipated he would. "You're not in shape to keep up."

"That's for me to decide. I'll be fine." It's a lie they all see through, but no one comments on it.

"I'll stay with her," Yuffie says. She comes closer to stand by Tifa. "We'll follow at our pace. I was supposed to stay on the sidelines, anyway," she adds at Tifa's frown.

"Alright. But you're both carrying weapons."

At Barret's nod, Wedge brings them two handguns. Tifa remembers the one Vincent had given her; she unzips the jacket and fishes the weapon out of her waistband. Given her physical state, it's still heavier than it should be. She puts it into one of the oversized pockets of the jacket.

"Vincent gave it to me," she says at Cid's curious glance.

He scoffs. "Can someone tell me who the fuck this Vincent is?"

"A Turk who's working against Shinra." Tifa takes the gun Wedge hands her and puts it in the other pocket. Not ideal, but it'll have to do.

"Now that's a contradiction if I've ever heard one."

"Are we all ready?" Barret asks over Cid, who rolls his eyes at the interruption.

They all nod and follow Barret as he signals at them to move out. With a last glance, Tifa takes in the hideout; her eyes catch on the notepad and pen resting on the desk.

"Wait."

She goes back inside the room before anyone can protest. The pen hovers over the paper as she grows anxious, but then she forces herself to write.

Cloud,

We proceeded with the plan. I'll try to come back here once it's done. Wait for me.

Tifa

"Please be there," she says, her voice so soft no one hears her. She puts the pad with the note facing up on the most obvious place she can find and turns back to the door. Yuffie waits at the threshold and they go down to meet the others.

The uproar of the riots tells them the situation is direr than they had expected. From where they stand, the view of the principal street is minimal, but it's enough to discern a burning car with smashed windows and soldiers pushing back against civilians.

"The control center is on the edge of Sector 4, closer to the walls. At a decent pace, we'll reach it in twenty minutes." Barret gestures at the main street. "The hard part will be getting past all this. We don't know how big the perimeter they've set up is. The good news is that there might be less security at the control center since all the attention will be here. Anyone wants to back out, now is the time." His eyes lock unto Tifa. She holds his gaze without flinching, and he breaks away, sighing. "Let's go, then. We'll try to go around the worst of the riot."

They take off in the opposite direction from the main street, exiting unto a usually quiet, residential one. Tonight, it is full of people chanting and screaming; of soldiers calling for calm and order. But as they try to walk, sticking to the side as to avoid the thick of the mob, Tifa notes the people sitting down, bloody and beaten; the bodies lying over each other as if fire was opened on a crowd. The air smells of violence and anger and fear, and Tifa realizes Avalanche brought these people here. Her heart constricts, and she trails behind the others as she takes in the scene. If they hadn't fueled the hatred for Shinra, if they hadn't called for change—but no, isn't this what they wanted? To make people understand they could rise if they dared to?

"Tifa!" Yuffie hisses, grabbing her arm to force her forward. "We can't linger."

Tifa gives her an absentminded nod, still watching the scene unfold. That's how she spots the dozen of soldiers coming from a side street; they don't stop to arrest the civilians. Instead, they seem to be looking for something—or someone, Tifa realizes. The sight snaps her out of it; she tries to jog closer to Barret, hoping to warn him in time. But the soldiers spot her first. One of them grabs his radio and motions at one of his comrades to head for Avalanche.

"Barret," Tifa says, too late. "Barret, we have to run."

He twists around with a frown, spotting the soldier coming their way. Tifa can only imagine the curse words he mutters.

"Hey!" The soldier gets close enough to be heard; his grip on his rifle is taut, and he holds it high. "Identification. All of you."

"We're just trying to get home," Cid says, hands raised in a peaceful gesture.

"Nice try. You're helping a fugitive. IDs. Now." The rifle shifts until it's aimed at Tifa. "And you, you're coming with us."

"Adams!" The soldier who spoke into the radio runs up to them. "Take them all into custody." His gun also comes up, this time pointed at Barret. "I've seen his face before—on the footage of the Sector 4 HQ attack. He's a suspected Avalanche member."

He finishes right as an explosion sounds off further down the street. They all flinch out of instinct, and the two soldiers whirl to take in the car that blew up. Barret doesn't waste any time; with deadly precision, he shoots the two of them down and gestures at Avalanche to run as the rest of the soldiers notice what just happened.

"Let's go!"

It takes a momentous effort for Tifa to run, but she knows she has no other choice. She follows the others as best as she can; Yuffie stays close, her lack of stamina as well as the promise she made Barret slowing her down. Gunfire resounds, loud despite all the racket; one bullet grazes Barret's arm. He comes to an abrupt halt before an alley.

"All of you, in here!" The shout is accompanied by a signal to turn right.

He covers their retreat, firing at the pursuing soldiers. Tifa doesn't look back to see if he hit any. They make it through the alleyway, breaching the next street which is as overflowing with civilians and military. Tifa senses her control over her breathing slip, a combination of her physical state and the danger gripping her by the throat.

Barret bursts into the street after them; he herds them towards more alleys, hoping to lose the soldiers. But as Barret tells them to go down this street and that street, Tifa recognizes too late where he's taking them—into a dead-end. When they come face to face with a wall, Barret curses.

"We have to backtrack," Jesse pants.

They all take the moment of respite to catch their breath. Though further away, the soldiers' yells can still be heard, getting louder by the second. Barret suddenly takes off his backpack and walks up to Tifa, forcing her arms in the straps.

"Barret! What—"

"You go on," he says, almost too fast to be understood. "I'll buy you all time."

"No!"

"This isn't a choice, Tifa!"

The panic in his eyes tells her everything she needs to know—he wants her to run away. Her mind flashes to Vincent doing the same, and Cloud—

"No! I'm not leaving you!"

Around her, Jesse and Wedge get their weapons ready, a wordless show of support for Barret.

"We'll use the bomb," Tifa rushes out. "It'll throw them off."

Cid grabs her arm and shakes her. "We can't. The blast is too strong for a residential area. Grab Yuffie and go."

Tifa takes in the chaos surrounding her as if she's out of her body. Yuffie cries, clinging to Wedge, who pushes her gently towards Tifa. Jesse runs to the edge of the alley, ready to fire at any moment; she sends Tifa a smile and there is no dismissing the determination etched on her face. Cid takes out a gun she's not sure he can use and nods at her; she sees his mouth move, hears a distant, "Take care," before he goes to join Jesse. Reality syncs back as Barret pulls her by the arm, holding Yuffie's in his other hand.

"It doesn't matter if you don't go to the control center," Barret says, pleading and hopeful at once. He gives her a gentle push. "Just run, Tifa—run as fast as you can."

Yuffie's shrill protests make Tifa's heart pound until its pulse drowns everything else as she watches Barret turn around and run away from her, run towards the soldiers. She hears his voice again, the same words he used to say over and over as she lost control of her ability and put herself in danger—Not you, not you, not you, not you—

Tifa grabs Yuffie's hand and tugs her away from the rest of Avalanche right as the soldiers appear and gunfire sounds off. Yuffie yells her objection, tries to pry her hand free, but despite Tifa's weakened state, she holds strong as she makes the other girl run with her.

"No! No!" Yuffie lets out a sob as a scream follows a series of gunshots. "That was Wedge's voice—that was—we have to go back, we have to—"

"Snap out of it!" Tifa hates the words leaving her mouth, but if she wants to keep Yuffie alive, she can't hold them in. "We can't turn back!"

"We have to!"

Tifa halts, pulling them out of sight being a dumpster. Her breathing comes out in gasps. "Yuffie! Don't let their choice be for nothing."

"I don't care about the mission! Not like this!" Yuffie shrieks.

The gunfire gets louder, and Tifa can tell the soldiers won't be far behind.

"Hide," she pants. "Yuffie, hide! I can lose the soldiers."

"No! Tifa, don't leave!" Yuffie grasps the backpack as Tifa makes to get up. "Hide with me."

"They'll keep on looking if I do that. Listen to me!" she shouts as the girl's sobs get more forceful. "I left a note for Cloud in the hideout. Get out of sight for now and then go back there, tell him what happened. Please, Yuffie. You have to make it."

She rips Yuffie's hand off the backpack and breaks into the fastest run she can, ignoring her friend's cries. It doesn't take long for pounding footsteps to be heard, and Tifa ducks into alleys as often as she can, varying patterns and heading in the direction of the control center. This won't be in vain, she thinks as she gets closer and closer to her goal—it can't be in vain.

The control center comes into sight, still a few dozen meters away. Tifa crosses the street perpendicular to the one she was following and ducks behind a car, taking out one gun. She holds her breath as two soldiers charge into the street; she relaxes her grip on the weapon as they turn left, having seen someone further down the street. Keeping low to avoid being spotted, Tifa goes to the right towards the control center.

She perceives the change in her body as she nears the building. Her movements feel more natural, more fluid—more like how she's moved for years. She tries to will a burst of speed, but nothing happens. A second attempt yields the same lack of results, but on the third one, she senses it, that small telltale shift of the world when she uses her ability. It fizzles out as quickly as it came, but the reassurance that she didn't lose that part of her gives Tifa the courage to carry on.

The fence surrounding the control center is too tall to climb; Tifa spies it from around a street corner, keeping alert in case the soldiers turned around. There is only one soldier on duty at the entrance, but she's not naïve enough not to expect more inside. She waits until he turns around before breaking away from her hiding place and jogging towards the entrance. The soldier sees her as she fires; her aim still isn't as perfect as it used to be, but the bullet finds the soldier and he collapses. Tifa snatches the soldier's keycard from its clip on his uniform, ignoring the wheezing sounds coming from him. She swipes the card, and the fence slides open with a short but loud siren. Not losing time, Tifa slips inside.

There are two buildings, and she heads for the one on the huge one on the right—the other appears to be a hangar. Another swipe of the keycard allows her to enter the control center itself; the guard at the desk raises his head at the intrusion but doesn't have time to shout for reinforcement. The gunshot echoes and the man falls face down on his desk, only to slip out of his seat and unto the floor. Tifa doesn't give him another glance—she can't stop now, she can't doubt now. She tries to keep out of the cameras' sight, but it soon becomes obvious she's losing her time; she must have already been spotted, and more soldiers have to be on the way. The best way to do this is quickly—find the primary control room, set the bomb, and then try to get out. She uses brief flare-ups of her ability whenever she spots someone, doing whatever she can not to be stopped. The goal is all she can think about. There is no space for anything else.

The way to the control room is easy but long to find. She's almost there according to the floor plans when an alarm blasts from the speaker, calling for an evacuation. Tifa picks up the pace, not caring about the modicum of stealth she had been using. She turns a corner, coming upon a door that opens on an enormous space with a catwalk ten feet above ground leading to the control room. As she goes to step on the footbridge, it opens, letting out three employees who halt at the sight of Tifa with a gun.

"I'm not here for you," she pants. The catwalk is only one person wide; they can't cross at the same time. "Get out of here."

Two of the employees run without more prompting, but the last woman stands her ground. Even from afar, Tifa can see the shaking of her body.

"Just leave!" Tifa's yell resonates in the vast room. She raises the gun.

The woman hesitates before complying. Once she's cleared the catwalk, Tifa runs to the door, keycard in hand—but it won't open.

"Fuck!" She swipes it again, but still—nothing. "The door will have to do." Cid's words about the bomb being too powerful for a residential area come back, and she hopes it'll be enough to destroy the consoles inside. She pushes the thought away, not wanting to reflect on what happened before—now's not the time.

The backpack slides from her shoulders and on the ground. Tifa works mechanically, having arranged the same type of bombs several times. The timer is already set, and she gulps as she sees Cid programmed it to three minutes. With a loud exhale, Tifa grips the cellphone detonator, stands up and twists around; if she can detonate it once she's out—

Across the catwalk, the door leading to the exit hisses open, revealing seven soldiers, all armed and aiming at her. Tifa doesn't hear their yells and orders; she only focuses on her surroundings, trying to find a way to escape—she can't jump over the footbridge. Not only might she break something, she's not strong enough to handle the jump. Adrenaline and the stimulant Vincent gave her are the only reason she's still up right now. The only other way out would be through the door the soldiers are blocking. If she can move fast enough—

There's no time to elaborate something; one soldier stepped forward, and he will soon prevent her from crossing the catwalk. Tifa activates the bombs and throws the cellphone on the ground, moving without thinking, willing her body to cooperate. She needs it to.

[3:00]

The soldiers' cries as she becomes a blur. The use of her power asks for a sizeable amount of energy, but Tifa doesn't care; she pushes past her limit, past all the discipline Barret taught her. She collides at full speed with a soldier, sending him stumbling back into his comrades. The space it creates in the human barrier is enough for Tifa to pass through, and she uses more energy to get to the door, slamming her hand on the button to open it. The sound of the door sliding open then closed attracts the soldiers' attention. Tifa's eyes snag on the manual lever for the door; it can either be set to 'open' or 'closed'. She pulls the lever in the wanted direction as one soldier is about to reach her; the door slides shut in his face. He pounds on the door, ordering her to open it, open the fucking door, but Tifa is already running away.

[2:20]

The place is like a maze, and her rapidly beating heart makes her nauseous. She can't take the time to read the building's map, not this time. The alarm is still blaring, overloading her ears until there is nothing else she hears. As she turns corners and runs through endless hallways, Tifa doesn't see anyone else—the relief that the employees had the time to evacuate is fleeting, not something she can focus on right now.

[0:50]

She finally finds the exit; another outburst of speed has her reach it right as it opens—and she comes face to face with a soldier. Tifa's eyes widen—it's the lieutenant who let her go. He lowers his gun, his face alight with recognition. She doesn't slow down as she steps outside.

"Get the hell out of here! It's gonna blow!" she shouts over her shoulder, hoping he listens, but not willing to stay back to make sure.

The fenced gate looms closer; she can feel her legs shake from extenuation, the adrenaline the only reason she can still carry on.

[0:30]

Trusting her internal countdown, Tifa pushes her body further. Almost there—if she makes it past the gate, it should be enough, shouldn't it? It has to, it has to—

Tifa trips, her tired legs betraying her, and she can't right her balance in time; she tumbles to the ground, throwing her hands forward to avoid hitting her head.

[0:20]

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," she begs to no one as she stands up.

To her horror, her left ankle gives out under her. She must have twisted it, fuck. Despite the pain, Tifa keeps on running. She lets out a disheartened cry; she's so close and yet—she won't make it.

[0:10]

She hears the truck before it appears on her left and brakes in front of her. The lieutenant is the one driving.

"Get in!" he yells through the open window.

Tifa doesn't need to be told twice. She musters whatever power she has left to climb unto the truck; the lieutenant speeds up before she's even closed the door. He presses on the gas pedal, sending them careening for the entrance.

[0:00]

The explosion goes off as they cross the fence. It deafens Tifa, and the strength of it rocks the truck, but the lieutenant manages to keep control of the vehicle. He skids to a stop a few meters away from the gate, panting. Tifa finds herself unable to move; she can only watch as, seconds later, the power goes off.

It's almost instantaneous—the darkness that engulfs them is oppressing, foreign. Midgard is a city build in shades of gray but heightened through its neons and infinite lights. Tifa blinks, her eyes needing time to adapt. All of a sudden, pockets of light jump to life here and there—back-up generators, Tifa realizes. From where she is, she can see part of Shinra Tower is illuminated as well.

When the lieutenant starts the truck again, Tifa glances at him. She says nothing as he drives them away from the explosion site, doing his best to avoid the sudden influx of people in the streets, drawn both by the detonation and the lack of electricity. He parks in an empty, commercial street.

"Why?" The lieutenant's voice is soft. "Why did you do that?"

Emotions assail Tifa; how can she explain this to him—Avalanche's long-term goal, their ideals of another world; Jesse, Wedge, and Cid staying behind, trusting she would finish the job for them; Barret's parting words, a last secret between them, a promise she'd be safe.

"You wouldn't understand," is all she can say.

To her surprise, he concedes. "Probably." He leans his arms against the steering wheel. "If you wanted to destabilize the Corp, you guys succeeded. No more President, no more Captain, no more Board. No more Reactors," he adds with a sigh.

Tifa's hands clench into fist into her lap. "The Captain is dead?"

"You didn't know?" The lieutenant shakes his head. "I thought you guys did it."

"No," Tifa whispers. "Not us." Not exactly.

"What are you going to do now?" The question is genuine, but she doesn't miss the slight bite to it.

She stares at the shadowed street before her. "I don't know. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

Clothes rustling have her turn her attention to the lieutenant again. He removes his gloves, loosens a few buttons and rolls his sleeves a little. He throws the gloves in the backseat.

"You're not the only one who doesn't know what they'll do now," he says, letting his head fall against the headrest.

"You won't stay with Shinra?"

"What's Shinra anymore at this point?" The question is rhetoric, so Tifa abstains from replying. "I've been having doubts for a while now. This could be the push I needed." He snorts.

"You'd like to help?"

He runs a hand through his short hair, ruffling the strands until they become a mess. "I guess. If there was a way."

The motion attracts Tifa's attention, and she takes in the burn scars on his arms and hands, her eyes having adjusted to the darkness and helped by the few lights still on.

"There is, possibly," she says, her eyes drifting back to his face. "You know Vincent, the Turk?"

The lieutenant stares at her, his eyebrows raised in shock. "Agent Valentine was with you?"

She shakes her head. "No, but he was working against Shinra on his own. I—I have no idea if he's still alive, but you could seek him out. I'm sure he'd like the help," she finishes weakly. The adrenaline is wearing off, and the tiredness that takes hold of her is bone-deep.

"I might." He exhales. "I wonder if I ever truly believed in Shinra." At her curious gaze, he adds, "I've been living in a military foster family. Got into an accident when I was 16—I lost my memory. Sometimes I wonder what I used to think before I had no choice but to believe them."

Tifa blinks, trepidation crawling up her throat, twisting her stomach. "What kind of accident?" She forces her voice to stay neutral.

The lieutenant raises his arms in evidence. "House burned down. Shinra found me half-dead in the ruins."

"Oh," Tifa says. This—this is impossible. It's a coincidence, nothing else. The age, the accident, the memory loss—they are all coincidences. "I'm sorry that happened."

"It's fine, I guess." He shrugs, but there is an edge to the movement. "I got my little sister now. Fostered, like me. She's the only one I care about."

"Can I ask—"

The sound of vehicles interrupts her, and she tenses as military trucks round the corner at the end of the street.

"You should go," the lieutenant says.

Tifa jumps out of the truck before he finishes speaking. She comes around to his side to ask, "What's your name?"

"Why?" The lieutenant's eyes drift between her and the incoming trucks.

"I want to thank you. Properly," she adds when he hesitates.

He sighs. "You don't need to do that—but my name's Zack. Now go! Don't make me regret saving you."

"Thank you, Zack," Tifa whispers before running away into the night.

It seems impossible—that's all Tifa can think of as she forces herself to climb the fire escape of an apartment complex. If any of the residents notice her, they don't care. Cloud's best friend can't be alive, can he? And yet, she can't deny the lieutenant has to be that Zack. It's a miracle in the grand scheme of things—the dead brought back to life, no longer a memory.

She reaches the roof after a taxing climb, and, all energy drained, lays down on the concrete to stare at the sky. There's nothing to see, not really. It's still all shadows and gray clouds of pollution. But there's a tiny glimmer through it—maybe it's the light of the moon, or maybe it's her wistful imagination. Tifa bets on the latter. It catches up to her, then. All the deaths and the uncertainties and the weight of her actions. The silent tears come first but soon shift into painful sobs. The realization she's alone in the dark hits her hard. She won't be granted a miracle—her losses will stay as they are, and the thought only makes her cry harder. But it's the unknown that scares her the most—the possibility of hope. Though the rational part of her knows they're not coming back, the smallest conviction still burns in her chest. It makes everything worse.

Tomorrow, she promises to no one but the sky, tomorrow she will be brave.

But for tonight, Tifa allows herself to feel the sorrow of her victory.

—