The decrepit shell of a town passed beneath them as the Shinra chopper flew low across the landscape, Cloud at the controls. It was years since he piloted a helicopter, and Tseng's stony expression on his peripheral wasn't making it any easier. Below them, the gaudy lights were dark and had been for a long time, electricity being far too expensive to waste on pointless decorations, and the once vibrant posters and advertisements were faded and peeling. Mostly, the buildings still stood, home to the cockroaches Edge rejected.
Wall Market always bore a patina of decay. Now it was a bloated corpse. Cloud didn't have fond memories of his time there and was glad when Tseng gave him co-ordinates outside of the settlement to fly towards. The dregs of Midgar always wound up within its walls, and he didn't relish the thought of an encounter with the lowlifes that still called it home. The barren patch of scrub-land was far enough from the park to avoid suspicion, but close enough to allow Tseng and the soldiers he enlisted to get into position.
Fear curled through his gut like smoke, tripping through his senses and tightening his chest. The voice was insipid, a constant reminder of the danger Tifa was in. Erin wouldn't follow through on her end of the deal; why would she? The unknown factor terrified him and there was nothing he could tell himself to calm his nerves. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the bulletproof vest he wore only restricting his movements and increasing the pressure on his lungs.
They left Barret with Reno. He spat feathers at being partnered with the Turk. They headed a much larger team of soldiers and were waiting for Tseng's signal to begin a siege on the Shinra building. Without better intel, they were blind, with no idea how many men she had at her disposal. If Cloud and Tseng could capture her, it would give them an edge they sorely needed.
Barret and Reno… All bets were off there. Barret was a misjudged comment away from blowing a gasket, and Reno was out for blood. There was no saying which man would snap first. The clash was inevitable. Cloud could only hope they would focus on the bigger picture and put their differences aside.
He kept his fears to himself. Tseng sat beside him in the co-pilot's chair and said nothing since they left Edge. In deference to the threat, he too wore a bulletproof vest and spent most of the journey so far loading and reloading his handgun, double and triple-checking every mechanism worked. The constant clicks and scrapes were dragging on Cloud's nerves.
He adjusted the altitude slightly, and the helicopter skimmed lower.
Tseng released the magazine again. It slid easily from the well. He pushed it back into place with a resounding click and turned the gun over in his hands. Cloud sighed, trying to ignore the sound. Tseng's face might have been carefully neutral, but his fidgeting betrayed him. The tension was tangible in the air between them.
He released the ammo again. Click.
"They'll be okay," Cloud offered, unsure how else to proceed.
The Turk didn't reply, slotting the magazine back into the well.
"I think you've established it's working."
Tseng placed the handgun on the console with a sharp crack. His hands finally stilled. When Cloud looked away from the dials and gauges, he noticed the tick in Tseng's jaw as he grit his teeth. The Turk exhaled slowly, retrieving the firearm and holstering it beneath his jacket.
When he spoke, there was an edge to his voice. "You're an adequate pilot."
The comment was unexpected. Cloud didn't know how to respond.
"Another skill you owe to Shinra," Tseng continued.
"I don't owe Shinra anything," Cloud replied.
"That remains to be seen."
"No, it doesn't."
Silence fell between them, and Tseng flicked lint from his neatly pressed trousers. Cloud's fingers tightened on the yoke in front of him. He'd have almost preferred Reno over this.
"You shouldn't have killed him," said Cloud, thinking of the prisoner. "He might've been useful."
Tseng's vague grunt was the only sign that he heard the comment.
The gory image was still there. Cloud wouldn't forget it. The anger inside him relished it still, thriving on the thrill of revenge. They attacked his family, and they'd pay for it. A larger part of him screamed that it was wrong. Bludgeoning a restrained man to death was murder, pure and simple.
Tseng organised a team to clean up, barking jargon into his PHS that Cloud remembered from his months working for Shinra. The ease at which he organised the whole thing only proved what an inconsequential detail disposing of a body was to the man. Business as usual.
These men killed people. The detail was easy to forget, Rufus' fall from power defanging the Turks. More recently, their true colours had floated back to the surface like scum on the top of a polluted pond. Did Tifa know how easily Reno could get rid of a corpse? Cloud imagined the answer would upset her.
They made no sense, but Reno's actions showed how rattled he was by the situation. He offered Rufus without a trace of doubt in his voice, and Cloud understood how significant that was. He cared for Tifa, and perhaps it was a good thing to have the Turks on their side. Maybe Reno could protect her where Cloud continued to fail.
"We'll find them," he said, biting back the unwelcome doubt.
Tseng didn't reply. Silence resumed, and Cloud didn't have the energy to engage in further conversation. The brick wall Tseng seemed so adamant to construct could stay up for all he cared.
They were approaching their destination when he finally broke the silence again. "Do you understand the plan?"
Cloud nodded.
It was simple enough. After dropping Tseng and his soldiers off, Cloud would continue on to the park. He'd distract Erin for as long as he could, until Tseng's team were in place, and then they'd bring her in.
"It's imperative you keep her talking until we're in position," said Tseng.
"I know."
Sitting in the back of the chopper with the two Shinra grunts was another man, dressed impeccably in a white suit and black shirt, his blonde hair carefully styled. The similarity impressed Cloud. He encountered the President many times, and even he found the resemblance unsettling.
The decoy would buy them time; all Cloud needed to do was keep Erin busy.
"Take us lower."
He followed Tseng's instruction, descending to the scrub. Behind him, he heard the door to the chopper slide on its metal runners. The bird was still two metres from the ground when the first grunt leapt from the landing skids. The second followed suit, his rifle slung over his back.
Tseng unbuckled his harness and climbed out of his chair, heading for the back of the chopper.
"Tseng…" The tremor in Cloud's voice annoyed him. "If Tifa's there-"
"We follow the plan."
"She's the priority." He found his resolve then, the words cutting like steel. "I don't give a shit about Erin."
Something in the man's face altered, softening imperceptibly. "Something we agree on, at last. Take this… I assume you know what to do with it."
Tseng tossed something onto the vacant seat. It shone as it caught the light, bouncing to a halt on the charcoal fabric. Without a backward glance, Tseng leapt from the chopper, landing lightly on his feet and quickly leading the men away. Cloud watched the parched grass ripple in the wind from the blades, fighting the urge to land and call the party back. As they set the wheels in motion, the bad feelings increased tenfold, and the acidic feeling that something was about to go wrong curdled his blood. Ignoring his gut instinct was difficult, but what else could they do?
Behind him, the decoy pulled the door closed. It fell into place with a metallic thud that sent his already on-edge senses into overdrive.
It's just nerves, he told himself. Focus.
Cloud's eyes caught on the metal object Tseng left behind. The small gold ring with its sapphire stone was familiar. A Reflect Ring. Slipping it on would activate the fragment of barrier materia the blue jewel contained, providing a reflective shell for a short time, should the need arise. It appeared Tseng shared his fears, at least. They were walking into trouble.
The rest of the journey passed quickly, with Cloud mulling over the plan again and again in his head. The decoy Rufus didn't engage him in conversation, so he didn't offer any in return. This silence was slightly less fraught than the previous one, without Tseng's agitated movements beside him.
He could see the park on the horizon. Hardly anything changed since his last visit. The cracks in the playground equipment were still there, where rubble from the plate had rendered it useless. The playground hadn't offered respite for many years, and was just as grey and melancholy as he remembered it, albeit slightly more damaged and strewn with detritus from the Lifestream's purge of Midgar. As he took the chopper down, he could see a figure waiting on one of the few swings that were still operational. The man watched their descent with keen eyes.
Cloud killed the rotors and untangled himself from his harness, heading into the back of the helicopter. The decoy eyed him expectantly.
"Erin isn't here," said Cloud. "I don't like this."
"No, sir. Me neither."
"You don't need to call me sir. What's your name, anyway?"
"Marcus, sir."
Cloud fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Right. You understand the plan?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm going to put the hood on now."
He grabbed the hood they brought and bundled it over the decoy's head before slipping the Reflect Ring into his pocket. The man wore a bulletproof vest under his Rufus costume, and the weak shield Cloud's ring provided might protect them both if he stayed close enough. Cloud bound his hands loosely; the knots were for show more than any kind of restraint.
"Can you see anything?"
"I can see enough, sir." The fabric muffled Marcus' voice, although it still radiated keenness. "Director Tseng briefed me. I know what I'm doing."
"Yeah, well… Stay close and let me do the talking."
"Yes, sir."
Cloud unlatched the door. The runners groaned as he yanked it across, filling the small interior of the helicopter with foetid slum air. Memories fluttered through his mind unbidden, called forth by the stench of burning rubbish and stale, dry rubble.
He never saw the Sector Seven slums again, not whole at any rate. And whose fault was that? The Turk that was winding his way towards the park, now an unpredictable ally. Cloud didn't believe for a second that Reno or Rude acted without orders from somewhere, and he knew how the Shinra chain of command operated. The instruction may have come from the top, but it fell to Tseng to deliver it. He was just as culpable as his men were.
He could've refused and saved them all so much heartache. Any of the Turks could, but they didn't. They'd never truly find redemption for their actions, though Tifa seemed determined to help them do so. Cloud was more cynical. He trusted her judgement, but a Coeurl rarely changed its spots.
"Sir?"
Cloud grabbed Marcus' arm, snapped from the past by his worried voice. He could taste Sector Six in the back of his throat. It turned his stomach.
"Ready?"
"Yes, sir."
He frogmarched the man out the door, holding tight to his bicep, mindful to keep him close enough for the Reflect Ring to offer cover. The fingers of his other hand closed around his sword and he dragged the weapon with him, swinging it easily onto the magnetised plate on the back of his pauldron. The clatter of steel on steel cut through the eerily silent air.
Marcus threw his shoulders back, head held high beneath the hood, mimicking Rufus' confident walk with practised precision. It sent Cloud back to the roof of the Shinra building, when he first encountered the then Vice-President. He shoved Marcus a little more roughly than he intended and he stumbled to his knees in the dust, throwing his bound hands out in front of him. The man on the swings straightened up, his wary expression morphing into a charming grin.
"Hello there, Cloud." He waved cheerfully, sauntering a little closer. "Thought I'd have to send out a search party."
"Where's Erin?"
Cloud frowned at the stranger. He looked to be about Cloud's age, with dark hair and a broad build. The twang in his voice placed him in the Corel area and there was a painful scar down his cheek. Barret said something about meeting Garrison during a protest gone bad in the mining town, and the dishevelled man wouldn't look out of place there. Oil stains and patches on his clothes suggested years of manual labour.
"Name's Garrison. Don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting just yet."
There was something about him that made Cloud's hackles rise. Garrison might've hailed from North Corel, but his Midgar-raised street swagger reminded him forcibly of Reno's cocky demeanour. Nothing about Garrison's toothy smile suggested they could trust him, and Cloud didn't. Not for a second. This wasn't what they agreed.
"My deal's with Erin," he said, anger creeping into his voice. "Not with you."
"Now, now. Enough of that." Garrison's grin widened; a permanent fixture. "Erin's a busy lady. I've got what you want, don't you worry... Leave your sword on the chopper."
Cloud couldn't see a weapon, but the leather overcoat Garrison wore could have easily concealed one. "Not happening."
"Do you want her back, or not?"
He knew they should have expected this. Erin was too smart to put herself in danger and no doubt believed she held all the cards whilst she still had Tifa and Elena to use as leverage. Reluctantly, he retrieved his sword from his back and stabbed it into the ground beside the helicopter. The blade crunched into the dry soil, and the second his fingers loosened on the hilt, he felt naked. He shoved his hands into his pockets mutinously, closing his fingers around the Reflect Ring.
"Where's Tifa?"
"Well, aren't we in a hurry?"
Garrison made a quick motion with his hand. Four men melted out of the shadows, each of them wearing similar clothing and carrying a gun, though they varied in type and didn't look anywhere near as sleek as the model Tseng obsessively loaded and unloaded on the flight over. Cloud wondered how much Garrison paid them to follow his orders, and how loyal they really were. A man with dirty blonde hair headed straight for the open door of the chopper and hauled himself inside.
"Can't be too careful. It's mighty suspicious, you turning up in a Shinra helicopter, wouldn't you say?" said Garrison conversationally.
"Stole it." Cloud lied through his teeth. "How else would I get here so fast?"
"How indeed..."
Moments later, the blonde man reappeared. "All clear, boss."
Garrison looked slightly bewildered. He was expecting trouble, Cloud realised, and the lack of back-up on the helicopter threw him. The moment passed, his confused expression sliding back into a smirk.
"So far, so good," he said. "Can't say I'm not surprised. Didn't expect you to hold up your end of the bargain. Unless that there isn't good ol' Rufus?"
Cloud was careful to keep his face neutral, hiding the tumult of emotions that ran through his mind. There was no sign of Tifa and not knowing her location tied his hands. They were running out of time. The second Garrison realised the prisoner was a decoy, all hell would break loose.
"Where's Tifa?" Cloud repeated.
Garrison shook his head. "Good things come to those who wait, Cloud. Arlo, if you would be so kind..."
One man edged towards Cloud. He was slimmer and younger-faced than the rest. His dark eyes watched Cloud nervously, his knuckles white on the rifle in his hands. This bag of nerves definitely wasn't being paid enough to be loyal, he realised. If Cloud so much as breathed in the boy's direction he'd piss his pants.
Cloud turned the Reflect Ring again, grounding himself in the smooth slip of the metal against his fingers.
"Stay back," he warned.
Arlo looked back at Garrison, seeking guidance.
"How am I supposed to trust you if I can't see the goods?" Garrison smiled nastily. "Go on, kid. I ain't got all fucking day."
"You're not touching him until I see her." Cloud squared up slightly, balancing his weight between the balls of his feet, conscious of the missing weight of his weapon at his back. "Give me Tifa or the deal's off."
"I don't think you're playing fair. In fact, I think you're trying to trick me."
Cloud narrowed his eyes.
"Where are they?" Garrison turned his head left and right, scanning the surrounding rubble. "You can come out, Director! I know you're there!"
"Where is she?" Cloud demanded, for the third time.
"I told Erin this was a bad idea. Did she fucking listen?"
"Where is she?"
Garrison's eyes landed on Cloud for a moment. His lazy shrug was almost apologetic.
"Tifa's dead."
Time slowed, the dirty air suddenly too thin for his lungs.
"You're lying."
"Nope." Garrison bared his teeth, motioning for his men to move in. "Killed her myself. She tried to escape. You know how feisty these women can be."
Arlo hovered, unsure, as the three others advanced. The pleading look in his eyes took Cloud back to another time when he'd been a grunt following orders he didn't believe in. He'd have felt sorry for the kid, if the blood wasn't pounding in his ears.
"I said, come on out, Director," Garrison shouted. "Or is it Reno? Shouldn't be surprised, should I? Skulking around like a shitty smell… You're pathetic!"
The other three looked nervous too now, clutching their weapons and scanning the park for signs of movement. The prospect of the Turks being there scared them, but Garrison didn't seem to share their fear. Instead, he bore an excited smile, still twisting his head this way and that like a predator scenting out prey.
"You're lying!" Cloud's eyes were on Garrison; the anger burned inside him like a flame.
"She asked for you, you know," Garrison called into the shadows, ignoring Cloud. "Just before the lights went out. She must be a real good lay if she's turned your head, Reno. Didn't think you had it in you to care about anybody."
Cloud's heart hammered painfully in his chest, his lungs growing tighter as panic took hold. There was still no signal from Tseng; his team wasn't in place. Cloud couldn't understand what was taking so long. Garrison had to be lying about Tifa. They wouldn't risk losing their bargaining chip until they got what they wanted, he was certain.
That certainty wavered as fear tightened its hold over him. There was no reason to keep her alive. Tifa only ensured Cloud's loyalty; she didn't buy them Rufus Shinra. Reno might've been willing to hand him over, but Tseng would never allow it. The decoy was proof that Cloud wasn't on-side. Tifa was useless to them.
"Reno's not here," he said, at a loss for any other way to draw out the conversation. He needed to keep Garrison talking. "Nobody's here."
"I call bullshit."
A quiet phut cut the air. The man with the dirty blonde hair dropped to his knees, the motion oddly neat as he folded forwards and landed on his face in the dirt. Time stopped.
Cloud slipped on the Reflect Ring as Garrison spread his fingers and thrust his palm out in front of him. The fork of electricity zinged off the shimmering force-field, and he looked surprised for a moment before he rallied. At Cloud's feet, Marcus ripped the hood from his face, rolling closer to take advantage of the protection from the ring.
"That's not fair," Garrison hissed, diving for cover. He flicked his wrist again, and the landscape shivered around him.
A second man fell. This time the shot wasn't so neat, spraying gore through the air as he collapsed backwards and hit the ground. Cloud knew he didn't have much time before the shield provided by the ring depleted. Bullets rained down around them, Garrison's men taking aim at the only target they could see. The salvo hit the residual electricity that crackled across the shield, sparking harmlessly as the bullets pinged to the ground. A shot aimed at Marcus struck hard against his bulletproof vest.
Marcus produced a grenade from the white overcoat he wore and removed the pin. He rolled it towards Garrison and leapt for cover. Cloud followed, not waiting for the explosive to find its target.
The grenade exploded. The force of it threw Garrison backwards, and he landed heavily on his ass in the dust. Flames flickered and twisted in the surrounding air, and Cloud realised what caused the backdrop to ripple. Grinning triumphantly, Garrison revealed a rusted bracer around his forearm and the green barrier materia pulsing within it.
"Nice try," said Garrison.
The orb glowed so brightly it was difficult to see anything else, impossible to tell how many other slots in the bracer were junctioned. The Reflect Ring suddenly seemed a woeful defence and his arm still ached from the bullet that grazed him during the attack on Seventh Heaven.
Marcus held a gun in his hands now. He fired shot after shot from the compact pistol, despite the bullets bouncing harmlessly off Garrison's shield. Another of his men fell, staring at Cloud through lifeless eyes, the dark pockmark between his eyes seeping blood down his forehead. Only Arlo remained, rifle shaking in his hands, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
"Don't just stand there." Garrison scrambled back onto his feet, searching frantically for the unseen shooter. "Deal with the merc!"
Arlo looked at Garrison with wide eyes. He turned on his heel and ran.
"Oh, no you don't," Garrison growled.
He threw another bolt of lightning. Arlo fell, limbs convulsing, the rifle tumbling from his fingers. Sparks tripped and fizzled across his shuddering body, the direct hit leaving a smoking burn in the back of his shirt.
The barrier around Garrison shimmered in the air, silver-blue and warping his silhouette slightly. Cloud knew his own protection was about to give out. He ran for the chopper and grabbed his sword, hearing another bolt zap against his defences.
He didn't care about Tseng or the plan. He needed to know where Tifa was. He needed Garrison alive.
Another bolt hit, and another. His feet chewed up the ground as he sprinted across the park, swinging his sword up in an arc as he bore down on his target. The air fizzled and spat as steel bit into the barrier.
He held on determinedly to the hilt, forcing his fingers to obey as the shock of the impact vibrated through his arm, swinging the lead weight down again and pushing the blade through the rapidly weakening barrier. The last of the magic halted the attack, but the force of the blow made the shield sputter and die, leaving Garrison unprotected.
Cloud's shield failed, the Reflect Ring finally giving out. Garrison's next cast struck him in the shoulder, sending an electric tremor shuddering down his arm. The strength left Cloud's fingers, and they jerked violently, sparks crackling across his skin. His sword clattered to the ground, and he rammed into Garrison with his good arm, feeling the world spin as his nerves convulsed, and the slick burn at his shoulder screamed at him. Garrison stumbled, landing heavily and kicking out at Cloud's legs.
A bullet struck the ground, inches away from Garrison's splayed fingers, sending a plume of dirt spiralling lazily into the air. Cloud saw Tseng advance from the corner of his eye, holding his handgun out in front of him as he sighted out his target. There was pure hatred etched in his expression.
The shot was a warning. Garrison tried to clamber to his feet again, swinging his casting hand out towards Tseng. Another bullet stopped him in his tracks, exploding through his palm and spattering his face and torso with blood. He howled in pain.
"Don't move," said Tseng, weapon still trained on Garrison. "It would appear we have you at a disadvantage."
"Sure looks that way," he gritted out, fingers twitching as he cradled his wounded hand against his chest.
Cloud dragged himself unsteadily onto his feet, pain careening through his torso with a vengeance. He felt sick, eyes watering at the stinging burn, spasms still travelling into his wrist. If Tseng noticed his injury he didn't pass comment, nor did he move to help him. Cloud could see the sticky wound when he looked down, the dark wool of his vest shiny and sodden. His shoulder was on fire.
"Be careful, he has materia," Cloud warned, clamping his good hand down over the bleeding burn. "Don't let him use it."
"Where's Elena?"
"Killed her." Garrison spat on the ground.
"If that's true, you're a dead man," said Tseng.
"Did you like your gift?" The vitriol in Garrison's voice turned Cloud's stomach. "Thought you'd appreciate the irony. I'll never put a ring on my woman's finger and now neither will you."
Tseng's expression barely faltered. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Garrison's face twisted. "What?"
"Frankly, I don't care what you have to say." Tseng barked his next order at one of the soldiers that took position around the perimeter. "Restrain him and get him on the chopper."
"Yes, sir."
"You don't fucking remember her?"
Garrison's eyes were cold, his face bearing a grimace of blind fury. He was shaking, ruddy blotches forming on his cheeks and neck.
"I've killed many people," Tseng replied coolly. "Forgive me for forgetting the specifics."
"Tseng…" Cloud warned.
Provoking Garrison didn't seem wise. He looked like a cornered animal, poised to fight.
"She was mine," Garrison screamed, flecks of spit forming at the corners of his mouth, his eyes bulging. "And you murdered her!"
"What are you waiting for?" Tseng snapped his fingers at the soldier. "Move. Now."
The soldier advanced, rifle trained on Garrison. He lashed out with his wounded hand, and droplets of blood splattered the ground. Scarlet light streamed from the bracer at his sleeve and the air turned frigid around them.
Tseng barely had time to react. Ice crystallised across the barrel of his gun, the burn from the chill forcing him to drop the firearm. The metal shattered when it hit the floor.
"Get back!" shouted Cloud.
Tseng's eyes widened. "What-"
He dragged Tseng aside as the ground splintered, stalagmites of ice shooting upwards from the dirt. The shards sparkled in the fading daylight. He could see his breath forming clouds in the air as the red glow stripped away any warmth, cold forming in its wake.
He knew she was coming before she materialised before them. This couldn't be happening.
Her icy form shivered and solidified in the air, her lithe limbs bare and the frost on her skin glittering as she swirled into action. She was as beautiful as she was deadly, a power Cloud often called on when the stakes were too high and their lives depended on it. There was no trace of recognition in her silver eyes now. Her loyalty was bought by the crimson materia Garrison bore on his wrist. Materia he should never have gotten his hands on.
Shiva's lips parted, tinged blue, her voice a long, shuddering note that made the hairs prickle on Cloud's arms and the back of his neck. Her scream lanced through the air like a thrown knife.
Tseng removed himself from Cloud's unresisting hands. "Is that…"
"Yeah, it is." Snow flurries spiralled through the sky. "Shit…"
"I agree. Suggestions?"
Tseng tilted his head, eyes flicking between Cloud and the spectral woman that hovered in front of them. She raised her hand. Her pale eyes narrowed, and shards of ice shot down like frozen bullets around them, biting into the ground. A chip struck Tseng's cheek, and he winced, pressing his hand to his face, blood dripping through his fingers.
"Run?" suggested Cloud.
"Agreed."
They sprinted for the chopper. Another barrage of icicles cut them off. Cloud skidded to the right as the ground beneath him froze, mirror slick beneath his feet. Shiva screamed again, whipping around with her arms outstretched. Crystals formed in the surrounding air, flakes biting into his bare skin, stinging his eyes as his breath froze in his throat. He was vaguely aware of the soldiers slowly advancing, shadows through the snowstorm that danced in the air.
He rolled, dodging a sheet of ice that crashed into the ground where he'd been standing only moments before. It splintered like broken glass, spraying him with razor-sharp shards that sliced his arms and face. Lines of blood formed, trickling slowly across his skin. He stumbled to his feet.
"Distract her," Tseng shouted.
"What?" He dodged another strike, teeth chattering. "Are you crazy?"
Tseng gestured at the helicopter. "She's controlled by the bracer. We need distance."
Cloud held his wounded arm, anger simmering through him. He forced it down. Tseng was right, if they could get high enough, Shiva wouldn't be able to give chase. Getting that height was the problem.
Unarmed and wounded, he was a sitting duck. He ran.
Shiva whirled again, tendrils of white hair snaking around her. She pinched her fingers, and the temperature dropped even further. His feet skittered and slipped on ice that formed beneath him and he fell, landing heavily on his injured shoulder and seeing stars as darkness blurred on the edges of his vision. The air was thin now, too thin. His lungs were burning.
Cloud picked up a chunk of fallen ice and threw it at her. It hit her ribs, exploding into a glittering haze, and she howled like a wounded animal.
"Over here," he shouted, somewhat redundantly, gasping in pain as he stood. "Come on!"
Shiva's eyes darkened, her mouth twisted into a furious snarl.
He watched as Tseng slipped and lurched, somehow finding purchase on the ice and launching himself into the helicopter. Moments later, the rotors spun, slowly gaining speed. Shiva stared at the turning blades, confused by the noise, and she raised her hand again, transfixed by the machine. Bullets from the soldiers splintered harmlessly around her.
Green light in the background distracted them both. Garrison was holding his hand out, his palm suffused by the sickly hue as the restorative materia got to work. His clammy skin shone under the light, a triumphant grin plastered across his face as Shiva pirouetted in the air and took her position at his side, protecting her master.
"Don't fucking move," he shouted, rolling to his feet, summoning the energy to cast again.
Marcus pushed past Cloud, sprinting for the helicopter. The other soldiers followed suit. Their fearful expressions suggested they hadn't encountered a summon before and they weren't about to take their chances.
Shiva's lips parted and the unholy scream ripped through the air again. As a ball of ice the size of his fist smashed into the metal hull of the chopper, Cloud skidded to the doorway. Marcus offered his arm and hauled him inside.
"This ain't over," Garrison screamed, as the chopper climbed. "You hear me, Tseng? I'll fucking kill you!"
Cloud lurched across the hold as the helicopter banked sharply left, and a swirl of ice clipped the nose. Tseng sat in the pilot's seat, knuckles white on the yoke, blood smeared across his cheek.
"Bored with playing the hero?" he asked, as Cloud collapsed into the co-pilot's chair. "There are medical supplies in the back."
"Didn't fancy getting turned into a human popsicle," he snapped, head spinning. "Do you think this is a joke?"
The Turk shrugged. His eyes were cold.
"What did you and Reno do?" Cloud flexed his fingers, pain wrenching through his shoulder and fuelling his temper. "And how the hell do they have materia?"
The odd orb of manipulate or lightning materia, Cloud could explain away. They didn't all lose their power when the Lifestream erupted, some still containing ebbing powers, their usefulness limited. Materia this powerful wasn't common, and summoning materia was rarer still. He never saw a trace of them during his recent travels across Gaia, save Bahamut, and he knew Sephiroth's legacy manipulated the materia that brought the dragon into being.
"If you still have any, perhaps now is the time to retrieve it?" Tseng suggested.
Cloud shook his head. The WRO confiscated the orbs that still contained powers and Yuffie took the rest back to Wutai, wasting what little magic remained fighting Adamantaimai on her quest for riches.
"None?"
"Between Yuffie and the WRO? No."
"Well… it appears we know where Erin found her supply," Tseng muttered, pulling his PHS from his jacket and snapping it to his ear. "Reno? Hold your position. We're on our way."
As always, thank you so much to Arisa_K for being a super beta and friend, and helping me to drag this absolute bitch of a chapter into the world. Kudos to her for the idea of Garrison hitting the good guys with a summon, and the "OH SHIT" moment between Tseng and Cloud. This story truly wouldn't exist without you!