Cloud and Aerith hopped off the train at the Prospect Park stop. They were almost at Sector 7 anyway. Once clear of the railyard, Aerith pointed out a roadway with her staff.

"That's the BQE. It will take you right through Sector 7. Farewell."

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"Away from you."

"Why?"

She turned on him with a glare like lasers.

"Because thanks to you and your talent for impressing divine crystals, we're now a walking homing beacon. That brand is linked to the Lifestream like he is. He can sense it. But if I run, I still have a chance to get far enough away to where he can't feel me. And you should do the same."

She rushed onward and he kept on her heels.

"Well let's stick together. I'm sure this thing doesn't broadcast far. Heck I can't even get wifi under the Plate!"

"You're so naïve," she scoffed. "You are aware that this entire city was built on top of the Holy Fal'Cie Conclave, the largest Mako deposit known to man? Each reactor drills straight into a chamber of the sentient gems. We're sitting on top of a geyser straight into the Lifestream."

"Lifestream? You can't seriously believe in that religious stuff? Mako is a great gas-replacer, but it doesn't carry the dreams of the planet or whatever."

"And here I thought you were smart."

"HEY!"

"Hey SOLDIEEEERRR!"

Cloud turned to see a garter slingshot at him. He caught it at the sight of two bunny-eared girls blowing kisses at him.

"Hey hotties!" he started for them, pocketing the garter. "This party's in my back pocket, can I move it to yours?...Wait, what?"

A look of disgust crossed his face. Whatthefuck? He ran to catch up with Aerith.

"Sorry about that. Look, I black out sometimes—"

"I know."

"Huh? HOW? Wait up! Listen." He leapt in front of her. "You can't go alone. It's not safe."

"With you near? You bet it's not."

"Look, I know him. It'll take forever to explain, but if I'm with you maybe I can get through to him."

"Good. You do that. You distract him while I get out of the city."

"Where are you going to go?"

"Like I said, as far away from you as I can get!"

She whisked into a thicket of reeds and scraggle-trees. Dumbstruck, he followed her to a murky pond hidden in the reeds. She touched her staff to the water's surface. It glowed with the cool blue hue of a wellspring.

"What are you?" Cloud demanded. "I know you're not human. You get flowers to grow where there's no sunlight. You heal wounds without medicine. You use magic there's not even Materia for, that there hasn't been for hundreds, if not thousands of years, and you're not even Mako-infused! Are you an Ancient One?"

She knelt down by the spring with a wayward gaze, dipping a hand to restore all of her magic stats and health gauge. That soft, sweet monotone came through her voice in mournful reminiscence.

"Mine was the last family culled from the hierophant tribe. After Shinra killed my father, my mother managed to get me here, where that lovely woman you met at my house took me in."

Cloud watched her like a sad spirit. She seemed so lonely in life, with a long gaze that matched his own thousand-mile stare.

"You and that lovely woman seem to know a lot about me…or at least about my sword," he noted.

"Let's just say we've seen it before."

"You knew Angeal."

She rolled her eyes, rising from the pond to leave the thicket.

"Yes, I knew Angeal. Everyone knew Angeal. It's kind of impossible to not know someone as famous as he was."

She flowed like a train of feathers as he tagged along at her heel like a puppy.

"How did you know him?"

"I was in his fan club."

"Don't give me that."

"It's true."

"Tell me about him. Please. I…barely remember him."

She sighed then as he clutched his temples, straining.

"He was a nice man, and very brave. That's all I can tell you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a train to miss."

"No can do," he blocked her. "Besides, I promised your mom. SOLDIER's honor."

"Well, you'll be relieved to know that you're free from your debt, considering she's obviously not my real mother."

"Doesn't matter. I swore to protect you."

"Heh, you're going to protect me?"

"Like I said, I swore."

At that, she strode back from him, a slight smirk on her lips and a gleam in her eye like she was enjoying a private joke. She threw the cowl of her cloak back, placed both hands on her staff and faced him in fighter's stance.

"Well then. Come on. How can I know you'll be able to protect me if you can't even defeat me?"

"What the—?"

A fireball shot at Cloud, and he dove away. No time to think. It was on.

Fira bolts screamed for him as he ducked and skidded, bewildered into a dazed tunnel vision. Aerith threw her hand out to send a wave of fire rushing at him. In a split-second reaction, he threw up a weak Barrier, riding out the damage. Cloud wasn't big on magic, he equipped his Materia straight onto his sword. He was big on melee, so he ran in drawing his Stunner Blade in a phenomenal twirl.

The White Mage hurled Blizzard blocks that fell from above. Cloud leapt away from their shadows as they dropped down on where he stood. He bounded out of one shadow into another, an upslash overhead shattered the block to icy glass bits that fell in a peppering rain. Making a beeline straight for her, he flared his sword out while she gripped her staff to meet him.

Cloud swung a great arcing downslash, and she back-handsprung away in a whipping ribbon of graceful white light. Landing crouched, she swooped under his high-thrust, bashing his blade up and destroying his balance. A double-twirl wound her up and her staff came forward in a blinding burst, hitting off his blunt-edged sword in a great snapping impact. They whirled their weapons in twirling lance-combat, the train of her cloak flailing like a living lotus flower.

She dove in, cross-sweeping her staff at his legs and knocking him down. A whistling leap with her oaken pole thrown overhead, and Cloud grabbed his wits by their ears and got the heck out of that dropzone right as she slammed down where he'd lain. The impact of her staff dented the ground, driving the point home that she was not some healbot.

Now she charged him, spinning her staff in windmill arcs. He weaved back through her slicing thrusts that grazed strands of his spikey hair. Why was this happening? Why was she fighting him after helping him so much, when she could have just left him for the Triads? And why did he never know what the hell was going on!

The bewilderment turned to rage in Cloud. He quit backstepping and upblocked with his sword like a riot shield. He forced himself forward through a building fury. A harrowing upslice knocked her staff sidelong. He seized the opportunity to press forward. He threw a blasting power-slash that sent her flying across the ground. She landed on the balls of her feet as a blade came down to cross with her staff. A twist of his wrists flung her weapon aside, and before she knew it, his sword was at her throat.

They froze suspended in a state of subliminal mind-blindness, adrenaline coursing through their taught limbs. At that moment, when Cloud's eyes bore into her with irises of fire, hers softened, regarding his sword at the flash of her throat. She ran two long fingers along the smooth tang of cured tungsten carbide, and gazed up at him with an air of mysterious awe.

"You hit with the blunt side."

Cloud lost focus, ripped out of combat mode. His thoughts clunked together like bamboo poles, trying to figure out why he did that. He said the one thing that came to mind.

"…I don't want to wear it out."

At that, she threw her arms around him with a gasp, much to his bewilderment. A beaming butterfly smile lit up her entire being, while he just stood there frozen. When she pulled away, she glowed.

"Let's go. Sector 7 is this way."

She took his hand and led him onward toward his home. O…kay.

They hiked along the bikepath of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway, detouring down past South Slope. They were in prime Sector 6 Slums, avoiding rival territory, when a familiar sight accosted Cloud. An armored carriage pulled by two chocobos turned up a tree-lined cul-de-sac—the Don's prisoner cart.

Cloud's blood ran cold as he ducked behind a bush and beckoned Aerith to follow him. Up in front of a large, ornate mansion, the carriage halted to unload its quarry. A tall, long-limbed lady-assassin with shard lilac hair and a gunblade escorted a struggling combat-boot girl with tied hands.

"Don Corneo," Cloud glared. "They've got Tifa."

"Your friend?" asked Aerith.

"Not for much longer if I don't get her out of there. Wait here."

"Wait! You can't just barge in there!"

"Why not?"

"If you want her alive you can't."

Cloud thought for a minute.

"I've got an idea…gimme your cloak."

"What?"

"Trust me."

She hesitated for a moment, then handed over her indigo trim mage's cloak. He took it, draped it around himself, and threw her a wink.

"Thanks."

Then he dropped his pants. Aerith turned away wide-eyed at the flash of white skin as he hitched the hookers' garter around his own shapely thigh.

"Nice to know you shave your legs," she remarked in a flat voice.

"'Course I do. Swim team kid," he replied as he drove his sword into the ground. She furrowed her brow in revelation.

"…Nice to know that too."

Cloud hung his pants over his sword and stepped back in a solemn, sarcastic rouse. With a hand over his heart, he saluted a would-be comrade.

"A brave SOLDIER. He died honorably…and pantsless."

"You have no idea how not funny that is," Aerith scolded.

"Woo-hoo, BRB!" And Cloud took off skipping up to the mansion.

Meanwhile, she rolled her eyes and leaned back against his sword with a scoff. The blade held her weight, as if it were used to her. She peered out after Cloud, casting a silent prayer to the underside of the Plate that he'd come back at least alive enough to get dressed again.

A lone guard posted outside the door to Don Corneo's mansion. Cloud pulled his cowl down low and strutted up like he was there to party.

"Hay boiz!" he flicked a bent wrist.

"Who are you?"

"Oh tch tch, Donny doesn't have to know I'm here. I want to surprise him with a lil' something special." And Cloud pulled up the cloak's trim, revealing his lace garter. The guard's mouth went dry instantly.

"Why you gotta surprise Donny? I'm right here? I can uh, relay the message."

"Oh doll that's so sweet of you! Maybe after I tell Donny the very special secret I have to tell him, I'll come back and tell you something extra secret, just for us."

But as Cloud stuck out his hip, the guard's eyes fell to his feet.

"Nice boots. It a secret where you got those too?"

Think, Cloud. Think fast.

"Oh, you like them? I love boots. Big boots on big men, you know what they say about big men who wear big boots right?"

"Big socks," the guard peered, his grip on a saber hilt tightening. Cloud threw himself fawning on the big guard.

"Oh you are so funny! Hahaha! And so cute too. Just don't tell my boyfriend in SOLDIER that I'm here. He gets so possessive and controlling!" Cloud ran a finger in little circles on the guard's chest, and his good mood seemed to return.

"Naw. Don't worry hun."

"Thanks boo. I'll see you soon then."

A duckface thrown the guard's way, and Cloud strolled like a fashion model right into the mansion. A room full of grunts and guards in gear shot to their feet inside, but Cloud strode right past them, swaying his hips like he did whenever he made fun of Tifa. Whistles followed him, catcalls galore! At a lean and lanky 5'9" with a backside built from endless squats, Cloud had all the boys chasing him. With a wagging finger, he put them all down though. What a power-rush! Why didn't all girls slut it up like this all the time, he wondered? Who cares if anyone respected them? At least they'd obey them!

Down a hallway and around a corner, Cloud caught up to the lilac assassin and ducked flat-back against the wall. She was a big bruiser of a girl with arms like an elite gymnast and a flowing gunblade strapped to her hip. She turned in a quick flash to be sure she wasn't followed, and Cloud caught a glimpse of her taut face.

Mako eyes?

She shoved Tifa into a large study before he could get a good look, and left the door cracked. Cloud flew over to peer inside.

An ensemble of young girls bound at gunpoint stood before Don Corneo, a balding man who held himself like the stereotypical mafia boss, cigar and all. What a cliché. The assassin threw Tifa at the Don's feet and spoke in a sharp, haunting baritone.

"Last one. I'm done here."

The Don ashed his cigar with a pervy smile. "Too bad, I'm just getting started. Now, which one…"

He pointed his blunt at the girls like a wand, stopping at each as if to choose from a pin-up gallery. The assassin scoffed.

"Teh, an old bag like you? Good luck getting it up with just one."

"Shut up, bitch! I'll throw you right in this line with the rest of them! Triad traitor! You go to them for protection against Shinra, then to me for protection against them. Who will you run to for protection against me?"

Cloud sweat bullets outside the doorway, knowing he was running low on time. He needed to get the Don alone, needed to get himself in that line-up. Biting his nails, what to do? How the hell was he going to pull off this performance?...Performance!

A deep breath, and a silent prayer to the underside of the Plate, Cloud exploded through the doorway.

"Hit me, baby! One more time!"

Tifa's jaw hit the floor.

You're alive!

While Don Corneo's brows hit the ceiling.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I'm a slave for you."

Cloud took slow, seductive steps toward the Don. With his hood pulled low and flowing arcs of his lithe, liquid-lined legs, he strode in a serpentine gait up to his desk. The whole room seemed to freeze, captivated by his alluring aura. Daring, brazen, he laid across the rosewood desktop, right over the Don's papers! Crawling like an exotic dancer, the accentuated valley of Cloud's hips redacted onto a tapered torso. He'd always been a little guy. The bend of his toned thigh revealing a garter made the Don swallow hard, but it was a cute smile that sold it. That goddamn androgynous jawline of his!

"I know I may come off quiet. I may come off shy…" Cloud spoke in a sexy wisp whilst running a nimble finger down the Don's tie. Artist's hands. He'd been teased for them in school. Cloud busted the myth about little guys and little hands long ago.

"…but let me break the ice. The taste of your lips takes me on a ride…"

The Don licked his lips, and planted a grubby hand on Cloud's thigh. Rather than jump, Cloud actually got a kick out it! The fact that the Don was running his fingers up a guy's leg made him cringe with an evil satisfaction. Just not too far now…

"You think I'm in love? Teh, I'm not that innocent," and Cloud lifted the Don's hand away in a playful brush-off. A challenge.

"Ooh baby, I've got what you need," Don Corneo drooled.

"I'm addicted to you," Cloud smiled as the Don's hand slid over his backside. He shot up in a quaint rebuff. "But I know that you're toxic."

Sitting on the edge of the desk, nose in the air, Cloud tortured the Don with an air of sleek defiance.

"C'mon babe, I don't want to fight. I just wanna struggle-fuck you sideways."

Cloud glanced back at the Don, throwing a teasing smirk.

"If you really wanna battle, saddle up and get your rhythm."

"BITCHES! OUT!" ordered the Don, and the assassin drew her gunblade. She ushered the girls through the door with a look of unbridled disgust. Two guards remained in the study as the Don led Cloud into a bedroom, while Tifa shot wide-eyed telepathic signals at her best friend.

NO! Are you crazy!

Both doors closed, and the Don locked them in. He salivated over his little sprite, who backed in a taunting sweep toward the canopied bed.

"Oh girl, you're about to get an education," the Don swooned.

"Be careful, I'm not a girl…" Cloud knelt on the temperfoam, circling his nipples with fingertips. "…not yet a woman."

"Ooh baby, don't worry. I'll make you all woman."

"Really? You sure?"

The Don crawled onto the edge of the bed, and Cloud threw an evil smirk.

"In a minute, I'ma take you on…"

Then Cloud threw back his hood, and the color rushed from the Don's face.

"WHAT THE—"

Cloud threw the cloak over the Don, and bashed him into a bloody pulp. He threw him all the way across the room to barrel into the far wall. Don Corneo tried to crawl away when a huge boot slammed into his ribs. Cracks and choking gasps ensued. A chair shattered over his back, followed by an entire nightstand. The Don was spitting blood and teeth like some grotesque splatter artist. Cloud grabbed that tie he'd run a finger over earlier, yanked him up, and went to town on his ugly mug with brutal fists.

"AAAAAAAAHHH HELP!"

"No-no! That's not the safe-word we agreed on!"

The door handle stopped jiggling, and the guards outside stood down. Cloud beat the Don senseless with flaring fists that gave him impromptu plastic surgery.

"Oops, I did it again!" Cloud teased.

The Don managed to pull himself up to the dresser, where Cloud slammed his head into the frame over and over.

"Boy, don't try to front, I know just what you are. You're nothing but a…"

He threw him through the door, out into the study, and leapt after him with a Michael Jackson scream.

"Ahw! Womanizer!"

"Get him!" shouted the Don, and two big guards leapt upon a lithe Cloud in chocobo boxers. He fell back and stuck his leg out, sending one guard sailing over him into the bed with a crash. Leaning on one knee, he side-kicked the other guard to the ground, then slam-chopped his trachea. Blood spurted from the guard's lips. The Don staggered back with arms flailing, while Cloud hockey-checked him over his desk. Feet flared up like a dead man, and he was out cold.

Cloud flowed in ninja strides down the halls in silence, looking for the girls. He'd never been in here before. Even the biggest arms deals took place off-premises so as not to implicate the Don. The soft echo of cries filtered through the floorboards. A dungeon.

He flew through a stairwell that led down, past the basement levels, and came to stone foundations. Slipping in the shadows like blended charcoal, he caught two guards by candlelight. A flurry of impacts, and they were out cold on the floor. Keys? Check.

He ran past empty cells of cold iron bars, until he came to a large one where all the girls were locked in together. They jumped to their feet as Cloud fiddled with the lock.

Tifa rushed to the bars.

"Cloud! What the?"

"Hey Tifa!" he smiled, then threw the doors open. The girls all scurried out and Tifa ran with Cloud. But when they passed by one last cell, she stopped with wide eyes.

"Holy shit!"

A young man in a black cloak sat cross-legged in the cell, hair so dark it shimmered blue even in the dull dungeon light. He waited in a meditative trance.

Tifa grabbed for the keys but Cloud stopped her.

"Wait, not him."

"Why not?" she couldn't believe it, but he flashed a suspicious gaze at the young man.

"I don't know him. He's probably down here for a reason. C'mon."

Good point. She ran with him out of the dungeon, neglecting to notice that the young man's cell wasn't even locked.

Upstairs, the rest of the guards had their hands full chasing down the other girls. Tifa ducked behind a corner near the entrance when Cloud whispered to her with an immature chuckle.

"Tehe. Hey, Tifa."

"What?"

"I'm not wearing pants."

Good grief. She rolled her eyes, but he tugged her arm!

"C'mon, we can duck in a closet. Three minutes."

"Ohmygod shutup!" she whirled on him.

"Oh now you don't want to. When I'm already half-naked and ramped you get all prudish."

"PRUDISH! What the hell are you trying to say to me in the middle of escaping the Don's mansion?"

"God, why are you always yelling at me? There's no pleasing you!"

"Hey! What's going on over there?"

Oh no! The guard from outside had ducked in. But Cloud winked at Tifa and stuck his bare leg out into the hallway.

"Hey boo, I'm baaaaack."

"Hel-looo," he called, starting for the wagging white limb that beckoned to him. When he got to the corner, two sets of arms pulled him around and beat the living crap out of him. Cloud jumped out into the walkway beaming with a bright smile.

"Man, this is fun! I should do Vaudeville!"

"You can strip on Thursdays at the bar! Maybe then we'll actually make some money!"

"Beats deliveries," he shrugged, and they ran out the door.

They raced down to the end of the cul-de-sac, panting and leaning over, where Aerith met them with a concerned expression.

"Hey!" Cloud waved. "Aerith, this is Tifa. Tifa, Aerith."

"Where's my cloak?"

"Uh…"

"Go get my cloak!"

"You want me to run back in there?"

"NOW!"

"…Can I at least have my pants?"

Aerith draped Cloud's pants over her shoulder like collateral. Her piercing glare made his jaw hit the ground.

"...Aaaarrrggh." He grabbed his sword, spun it onto his back, and ran back up the cul-de-sac in bright yellow chocobo boxers. Tifa gaped after him.

"HOW did you get him to do that? I can barely get him to bus tables!"

"Trust me, you have to bark at him like he's a dog," Aerith replied. She faced the raven-haired girl before her, and Tifa didn't know what to say. What do you say to the White Mage of Sector 5? Aerith pulled Cloud's fatigues from over her shoulder and handed them to Tifa like they belonged to her. She took them with an apologetic wince, holding them out for a moment, then rolled them up under her arm. Aerith eyed her in haunting seriousness and spoke in a solemn tone.

"…We need to talk."

Cloud ran back up to the mansion, bursting into the foyer. This time when all the guards jumped to their feet, weapons came out as well. Cloud leapt into combat-mode, swinging his sword like a metronome on a manic high. He wound up like a shot-putter, power-bashing a guard through two separate walls. Block-sweep left, then slash-twirl to send guards careening like dominos. A shortcut occurred to him. His Mako-eyes gave him slightly enhanced vision in the dark. He flicked the light. In two minutes, Don Corneo had twenty less guards to pay.

Cloud rushed on through the mansion with his sword up and wits sharp. He knew that somewhere, the lilac assassin awaited, and he'd have to fight her for his freedom. Near the study, Cloud heard the Don's voice bellowing in angry tirades.

"You little hussie. You'll do while I wait for my guards to round up the rest…and get me an ice pack!"

Cloud leapt through the door expecting the assassin, only to find a little girl of about thirteen apprehended by more big guards. Black cropped hair over slanted slit-eyes, she dawned torn jeans and scuffed sneakers, an urchin grabbed off the street. Something horrible brined in Cloud, a building rage as flashbacks of the brothel assailed him. His pulse shot through the roof.

"…sick fucks…Sick Fucks…SICK FUCKS…!"

And Cloud's sword flew in a rampage.

Meanwhile, Aerith and Tifa watched from the bushes as the Don's Mansion systematically fell in on itself. Furniture flew through the windows, the roof collapsed, and explosions set the whole place on fire. The girls winced.

Cloud stood in the flaming wreckage with bodies strewn all around him, his sword flaring in the firelight. Flashing images played before his eyes, flareshots of flickering phantoms pantomiming in falselight. He saw himself as another person, a silver-haired SOLDIER grasping a bloody daikatana. He was Cloud…he was the SOLDIER…Cloud…SOLDIER…Cloud…

The Don's gasping cries brought him back, as the man crawled out from under a plywood board. An unrelenting urge assailed Cloud to end this sick sociopath's reign of terror. Control of his own body left him as he took a step forward, but he never made it any further. The little street urchin whisked past him, drawing a short sword and leaping for the Don. She stabbed him through the chest and slit his throat in a fluid sweep.

Blood sprayed in theatric rain, coating her arms and clothes as she stood on the dying man's chest. She ran her hand across her face, smearing the Don's blood over her cheeks like grotesque war paint. This crazy little oriental girl looked straight out of a movie Cloud saw once about killing some guy named Bill. As she slid her tongue over the length of her bloody short sword, he backed away, slowly.

Half-way down the cul-de-sac, a final blast of fire demolished what remained of the mansion. Cloud didn't look back though…cool guys don't look at explosions. Instead, he met the two girls with the wild fire that burned behind him in his eyes.

He trudged down to Aerith, stomping and panting, and handed over her cloak. She inspected the pockets, shooting him a flat glare.

"My smokes were in here." Cloud's jaw hit the ground as she threw her cloak around her shoulders. "You owe me a new pack."

Then she started off, a subtle silent air in her wake commanding him to follow. He said nothing, bewildered and overwhelmed, while Tifa held out his pants to him. He grabbed them, shoved his legs into them, and followed. Tifa said nothing, relishing the sight before her. She got to see him get treated like a dog and heel.

.

[Received Mage's Cloak]