"Man can do violence to himself and his own blessings: and for this he in the second round must aye deplore with unavailing penitence for his crime, whoe'er deprives himself of life and light, in reckless lavishment his talent wastes, and sorrows there where he should dwell in joy."
- The Divine Comedy (Hell or The Inferno), Part 5, Canto XI, by Dante Alighieri
They left the road shortly after reaching the barrens surrounding Midgar, wary of pursuit, riding their stolen motorcycles behind rock formations and out of sight of the main highway as much as possible. It made for a long, exhausting, and often painful day, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The sun was rising when they left the city, and it was dipping to the horizon again by the time they finally left the barrens behind.
Aerith was already overwhelmed seeing the expansive desert surrounding the city where she had grown up, the massive, seemingly never-ending wasteland, topped by a vast sky, bigger and more open than she had ever imagined. When they stopped to rest, it was silent. Quieter than it had been even in the Sector 5 church. The air was fresh, clear of the ever-present scent of Mako she had lived with her entire life.
But when they reached the end of the barrens and color returned to the world, the flower girl was speechless. Green grass, wildflowers, the darkening blue of the sky shading to yellow and orange in the west, and the sight and sound of the ocean in the distance. She had heard of such things of course, had dreamed of them on occasion, but she could scarcely believe she was seeing it with her own eyes.
"It's beautiful," she said aloud as the trio walked towards the town where they would spend the night. They had parked the motorcycles a distance away, under a small copse of trees, hiding them as best they could to cover their tracks. Aerith would have gladly camped out there, but Cissnei made the salient point there would be other opportunities to sleep outdoors and not so many to rest at a comfortable inn.
Tifa, walking at her side a bit behind the Turk, threw her a faint smile. Her exuberance after their escape had waned in the ensuing day and she seemed sad and thoughtful again, haunted by whatever demons the reappearance of Jenova and possibly Sephiroth had awakened for her. "A lot different from Midgar, isn't it?"
The Cetra nodded. "The city is all I've known. Concrete and steel and rust and filth. Only at home and the church could I see even a glimpse of what nature might look like."
"That's… cruel," Tifa said. "Someone like you was never meant to be stuck in that dead city."
Aerith caught her friend's eye and smiled brightly. "I'm out now," she reminded the former SOLDIER. "Thanks to you."
"Yeah…"
A sigh slipped from the brown-haired woman's lips. "I'm worried about mom, though," she admitted. "I wish we had had time to tell her I was safe."
Cissnei, leading the way, turned to face the two other women, walking backwards to address Aerith. "I still have some contacts in Midgar. I'll get a message to her. Elmyra Gainsborough of the Sector 5 slums, right?"
"How did you…?" Then Aerith remembered. Cissnei was a Turk. They had been watching her for years. "I'd appreciate that."
The grass under their feet gave way to cobblestones as they entered the little town of Kalm. It seemed humble and rustic after Midgar, but it looked pleasant enough to Aerith, despite the little signs that the town had fallen on hard times recently. Peeling paint. Worn clothes. Quiet despair in the citizens' faces. She had seen similar things in the slums.
"This used to be a mining town," Cissnei explained, keeping her voice low to keep from being overheard by other pedestrians. "There are mines to the south of here. Mythril mostly, but some other precious metals, too. A couple years ago, monsters appeared in the tunnels. Just a few at first, but it got so bad they had to shut down operations. Without a source of income, Kalm is sliding into poverty."
"Where did the monsters come from?" Aerith asked.
Tifa stared at Cissnei, and the shorter woman looked back, a challenge in her brown eyes. The mercenary took a deep breath. "About that…" she said. "Let's get settled at the inn here, and then… I have a story for you."
"I left home when I was only thirteen. It wasn't a… well-planned departure. I basically ran away without telling anyone, so I had to hitch-hike my way from Nibelheim to Midgar. It took months, but I had training before I left and it was good conditioning for what I would find when I enlisted in the Shinra army. First there was the basic training, then the advanced training. Then the testing. They didn't want to let me in to SOLDIER, but I persevered, jumped through all their hoops, met all their standards."
"By the time I made Third-Class, I was fifteen. The Wutai war had depleted the ranks pretty badly, so they were forced to finally give me the Mako treatment. I had a few easy assignments. Milk runs, really, but that was okay. I expected that. What I didn't expect was to be tapped for a big mission so soon after joining SOLDIER."
Tifa stared up at the young man standing before her, surprised and confused. He was tall, with spiky black hair spilling partway down his back, an easy grin, and bright blue eyes. A cross-shaped scar marred one cheek, but it made him look roguish more than it disfigured his face. A huge sword with a broad blade was strapped across his back. She knew him well. He was the First-Class SOLDIER who mentored all the hopefuls and the new inductees. It suited him. He was the terminally sociable type, always exuberant and friendly.
"Are you serious?" she asked, dubious. After over a year in Midgar, she had learned to be suspicious of everything anyone said. It was safer that way. "If Sephiroth is going on the mission, you don't need me. He doesn't even need you. Why are you asking me to come along?"
Zack Fair was unaffected by her words or her tone. "Hey, don't let the rumors fool you. Sephiroth is human like the rest of us… probably. Besides, there might be more going on in this mission than a faulty reactor and a few monsters. A couple extra hands might be needed, and I know you're good in a fight."
The fifteen-year-old put her hands on her hips, her crimson eyes – glowing brightly from her recent Mako treatment – narrowing in a glare. "I am, but that doesn't really answer my question. Why me? Why not another First or even a Second?"
"Oh, come on, Lockhart, why question it? Haven't you been looking for a chance to prove yourself? What better way than to go on a high-profile mission with me? And Sephiroth, too," he added, as if it were an afterthought.
Tifa shook her head. "I don't need pity, and I don't want help."
Zack sighed, putting his hands behind his head, elbows angled out. "Fine. If you don't want to go, I can't tell you the rest of it." He half turned, but kept one sky-blue eye on the younger SOLDIER.
She was being played. She knew he was baiting her, but the girl asked anyway. "The rest of it?"
"No, no," Zack said theatrically. "I can only share details with someone who's coming on the mission." He was a bad actor.
"Fine," Tifa growled. "You got me. What's so special about this assignment?"
Her superior grinned. "It's the reason we want you with us," he said. "We're shipping off to Nibelheim."
"Wait!" Aerith jumped up from the bed where she had been sitting when Tifa began her story. "You knew Zack Fair?"
Tifa gave the flower girl an apologetic look. "I did." She nodded to Cissnei, who leaned against the wall of their room with her arms crossed under her breasts. "So did she." The busty ex-SOLDIER crossed the room to stand before Aerith, gazing into her green eyes. "Some of this… isn't going to be easy for you to hear. I'm sorry."
The other woman sat back down slowly, her face pale.
"Anyways," Tifa continued, turning and pacing back across the room. "If Zack was expecting me to be doing backflips and cartwheels about going back home, he was disappointed. I had left Nibelheim for a reason, and I wasn't eager to go back. There were memories there I didn't want to face…"
"How does it feel?" The voice was smooth, precise, controlled, and it cut into Tifa's thoughts like a sharp sword.
She wrenched her gaze from the familiar sight in front of her – the water tower, the town square, the bulk of the Shinra mansion overseeing the small village and behind them all, sharp and tinged blue with distance, the Nibel Mountains – to the striking figure leading their small contingent into town. He was taller even than Zack, with silver hair nearly as long as Tifa's own. He wore a black coat, the bottom fringe of which went to mid-calf, and the thin katana at his side must have been over a meter and a half long. Tifa had seen him before, stalking around the halls of the Shinra building, but this was the first time he had spoken to her. Her tongue cleaved to the top of her mouth, words failing her.
Sephiroth must have been used to such a non-response. He restated his question. "It's been a while since you've been home, right? So how does it feel?" He smiled faintly. "I wouldn't know. I don't have a hometown."
Zack walked up beside Tifa. The general didn't seem to intimidate him at all. "Oh? What about your parents?"
"My mother's name was Jenova," Sephiroth answered. "She died during childbirth. As for my father…" He chuckled, a mirthless sound, and shook his head. "Why am I talking about this?" He turned away, facing Nibelheim again. "Let's go."
Cissnei stirred at her place near the window. "Is that what he said? That Jenova was his mother?"
"That's what he told us," Tifa affirmed with a nod. The Turk looked troubled, but didn't elaborate.
"Jenova… that's the thing from the Shinra building, right?" Aerith asked. "It was Sephiroth's… mother?"
Tifa grimaced. "Not quite… but we'll get there."
The three SOLDIERs entered the town on foot. No one was there to greet them. Not surprising. The monsters they had been sent to subdue were numerous. One had even attacked their transport on the way in, though it met with a swift end at the blade of Sephiroth's sword, the Masamune. Or maybe the citizens were afraid of the Shinra. It was a common enough sentiment in these rural villages. Tifa walked into the plaza on stiff legs, feeling as if she were dreaming.
"The Mako smell is pretty bad here," Sephiroth mused, staring up at the mountains. He turned again to face Zack and Tifa. "We're heading for the reactor in the morning, so make sure you get to sleep early." He paused. "Zack, you keep watch for now. Lockhart, feel free to visit your family and friends."
The fifteen-year-old almost objected, almost volunteered to stand watch instead rather than be given liberty to visit the people of Nibelheim, but she knew better than to question an order from the general, and she didn't really feel like explaining her reticence to her companions. She wandered the village aimlessly, moving slow. The few people who did see her and recognized her seemed surprised she had made it into SOLDIER. The conversations were brief and wary. They knew Tifa hadn't left home under the best circumstances. Her few friends from her youth were long gone. Everyone around her age had left town to find work elsewhere around the same time she had run away.
She stood in front of her old house for a long time before she went in, feeling it was her obligation to at least greet her father. The big building was empty, and she wasn't sure whether to feel sad or relieved. Her room was just as she had left it, and she spent a few minutes noodling on the big piano standing in one corner, letting her thoughts wander through the past.
Afterwards, Tifa stopped next door to fulfill another obligation. Claudia Strife looked a little older than she remembered, but she was still a vibrant woman, even after the tragedies she had suffered. Her blue eyes widened when she saw the young SOLDIER standing at the entrance of her small house and she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. There was a pause, a beat of uncertainty where anything might happen, then the blonde woman rushed over to hug her tightly.
"I'm so glad to see you safe, Tifa," Claudia said. "I mean… I got the money you sent me – you didn't need to do that, by the way – but I still wasn't sure you were all right." Tifa didn't dare respond, didn't even move her own arms from where they hung at her side. The older woman took a step back, but kept her warm hands on Tifa's shoulders. "Let me take a look at you." She smiled, an expression tinged by sadness. "So, this is a SOLDIER uniform? You look great! I hope the company is taking good care of you."
Tifa swallowed painfully. How could the older woman still be so kind to her? After everything that had happened? There had never been even the slightest hint of blame. "Miss Strife, I…"
She shook her head, hearing her voice growing hoarse. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."
"What's wrong?" Aerith asked, concerned.
"It's… nothing," Tifa said, waving away the question. "It's just not important."
The young SOLDIER spent some time at the town's graveyard, staring at a small, innocuous tombstone put up seven years ago. Seven years… she couldn't believe it had been so long. Tifa wondered what the little boy who had been buried here might look like now. He would've been sixteen. Maybe he would've been the one to leave town and join SOLDIER. He could've been a hero, someone who would arrive at the last instant and rescue someone who needed it.
Instead, Cloud Strife was long dead.
Before she knew it, hours had passed and evening was settling over Nibelheim. She went back to the inn and climbed the stairs to the room the three SOLDIERs would be sharing. There would be no special accommodation for her just because she was a female. Tifa's superiors had made it very clear… if she wanted in to the program, she would be treated just like everyone else. She had grown used to it.
Sephiroth was standing at the window, gazing out at the town and the mountains beyond. He glanced over his shoulder at her when she reached the second floor. "Strange. I feel like I've seen this place before."
"That is weird," Tifa said at last, managing to overcome her nervousness at being addressed by the general. "I lived here for thirteen years and I feel like a stranger."
The corner of his lip actually lifted in a faint, knowing smirk. She couldn't look away from his unsettling, cat-like green eyes. "It seems your homecoming wasn't as pleasant as it might have been." Tifa didn't answer, and Sephiroth turned away. "We start early tomorrow. You should get some sleep."
Taking his advice, the fifteen-year-old changed and slipped into one of the three narrow beds. It was a long time before she fell asleep.
Tifa awoke late the next morning and had to rush to catch up with Zack and Sephiroth, throwing on her uniform and running a brush through her long hair. Her sprint to the end of town faltered when she saw the people gathered there. The two First-Class SOLDIERs of course, a young man holding a bulky camera, and one of the town elders.
He had aged. More than seemed right considering it had been only two years since Tifa had seen him last. His hair, once the same dark shade as her own, was now lightened with gray, as was his mustache. The thin face was lined, almost gaunt. Had she done this? If so, it was another guilty burden on her shoulders.
Brian Lockhart's hazel eyes – still so familiar – shifted to her as she approached, slipped away without recognition, then speared her with a stare. He stopped speaking mid-explanation, his jaw dropping when he realized who she was. She walked up behind the Firsts, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
"Hello, father," she said gravely.
His jaw worked silently for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Tifa, you…" he straightened as if coming to a decision. "I didn't expect to see you here." His tone was calm and formal, but he could no longer meet her eyes. Maybe he just didn't like what the Mako treatment had done to make her irises glow crimson. "You must be the reason these gentlemen say they don't need a guide to the reactor."
"That's right," she affirmed, willing her voice not to catch. "I'm going to lead them up the mountain."
She could see in his face he didn't like it, but he was either too proud to offer his opinion or thought she was too proud to accept his concern. Tifa wasn't sure which option was worse, but her heart ached when the man who had raised her turned away to address Sephiroth again, leaving recriminations or reconciliations for another time.
Or no time at all.
"I knew those mountains well…. When I was younger, I forced myself to walk the trails almost daily. The cold air was exactly as I remembered it. The path hadn't changed in the two years I'd been gone, though the monsters attacked us frequently. I tried to pull my weight, but I couldn't even match up to Zack's talent, much less Sephiroth's."
"Any rumors you've heard about him don't do it justice. He was fast, strong, capable… not a single movement was wasted. Nothing was able to touch us."
"When we reached the reactor, the two Firsts left me outside to stand guard. I had the feeling they were expecting a different sort of trouble inside, but they wouldn't tell me what it was. Afterwards, Zack told me they had discovered monsters – mutants exposed to high concentrations of Mako – being grown in the depths of the power plant. Shinra was creating these creatures on purpose, but it wasn't the worst thing in that reactor."
"Sephiroth was changed when he came out. He didn't speak, but he practically seethed with anger. I could almost feel it radiating from him. Zack was jumpy, too. He didn't say much until we got back to town, and even then, he only told me the bare minimum: The general believed he had been created the same way the monsters in the reactor were. Sephiroth sat silent in our room at the inn. He didn't speak. He didn't eat. He didn't move."
"A few days passed. Sephiroth disappeared. We found him in the Shinra mansion. It was a big, old building on the edge of town where the Shinra officials had stayed back when they first surveyed the mountains. When I was a kid, we always thought it was a haunted house. Sometimes you could hear weird groans and roars and howls from deep inside."
"Zack went alone to confront the general in the depths of the mansion. He came back even more confused than before. Whatever crisis Sephiroth was going through, it wasn't over yet. He had always been different. Cold, distant, almost alien, but I couldn't help remembering him trying to relate when we arrived at Nibelheim, asking me how it felt to be home. What had happened to him?"
She couldn't stay in the mansion anymore. It was too big, too eerie, and she felt a growing sense of threat from where Sephiroth had taken up residence in the library Zack had told her about. All Tifa wanted to do was leave Nibelheim. She hadn't wanted to come back in the first place, and now she was stuck here until the general emerged from whatever strange mood had come over him.
Tifa was just leaving her old house after another frustrated attempt at talking with her father. He was avoiding her. Always away on business whenever she came around. If they never talked about the issues between them, the awkwardness and uncertainty would never go away. Meanwhile, the other townspeople grew ever more resentful of the Shinra presence in their village. Only Miss Strife was still friendly with her, but that very kindness was why Tifa avoided her.
At this point, she was willing to face her fear of Sephiroth and confront him herself if it would help them leave faster, but Zack forbade it. He was down there again now, trying to talk some sense into the general. She wished him the best, but the sense of dread weighing her down didn't do much for her confidence.
It was surprising then when the doors of the Shinra mansion opened and the silver-haired SOLDIER strode through, walking with purpose. He entered the town square, paying no attention to her. His cat-like eyes scanned the village, a grimace of disgust on his face.
Tifa took a step forward. "General? What's wrong?"
"Traitors," the general said in a deep voice dripping with contempt. "Cowardly traitors. Here you sit in your little hovels, still hiding from your troubles like you have been for thousands of years, letting others fight and die to protect you. The Cetra then, Shinra now. Pathetic."
"What are you talking about?" She was baffled at his words and his tone.
He finally faced her, acknowledging her presence. "You're just like Fair. You know nothing about the history of your own people, much less mine. You should hide like the rest of them. Not that it will do you any good." Sephiroth raised an arm, the materia hanging from one wrist glittering. There was a flash of orange light and the inn burst into flames in an instant.
The fifteen-year-old stared, shocked at the sudden, unprovoked attack. There had been people in there. Before she could react, the general shifted his aim to another house behind her. "Stop!" she screamed.
He didn't listen. A second building was transformed into a pyre.
"Stop! Why are you doing this?!" Her fists were clenched, her eyes squeezed shut. "What did they do to you?!"
"You weren't paying attention," he said. His voice was still calm and precise, easily audible even over the crackling flames and the screams beginning to rise from all sides. The hand raised again, this time pointing at the Strife household.
Tifa reacted without thinking. Her horror and confusion vanished like fog in sunlight and she let out a primal scream, dashing forward to close the three meters separating them. She couldn't let him do this, she had to stop him. Her right fist drew back for a powerful punch and she threw it forward with all her Mako-enhanced strength and speed.
But Sephiroth was no longer there. He had slipped aside in an instant, raising a knee into her midsection. The breath was driven out of her body and she staggered back, holding her stomach, gasping for air. She fell to her knees, black spots dancing at the corners of her vision. When she raised her head, she saw Sephiroth still standing in place, unmoved by her attack. He was smirking, pointing at Miss Strife's home. Tifa lifted a hand, trying to stop him, trying to stop time itself. She attempted to scream, to warn Claudia to get out of her house, but she had no breath.
The building went up like a torch.
Tifa collapsed, tears streaming down her face. She'd failed them both now, mother and son. She still wasn't strong enough. Why was this happening?
He was cutting down the few survivors now, the Masamune flashing in the reddish glare of the flames. They were being slaughtered like animals, confused and helpless as they ran to imagined safety. The townspeople fell and Sephiroth stood, silhouetted against the fire like a demon or a god bringing down judgment. He smiled and Tifa hated him more in that instant than she had hated anything her entire life.
The girl struggled to her hands and knees, fighting the pain and the heat and the lack of air, fighting her own despair. She crawled towards her enemy. What she would do when she reached him she didn't know, but she had to try. Sephiroth saw her and glanced away dismissively. She was no threat to him. He walked out of her sight in the direction of the mountains.
"Tifa!" It was Zack's voice. He knelt at her side. "Tifa, are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He helped her to her feet where she swayed unsteadily, holding one arm against her stomach.
"The townspeople," Tifa started hollowly. "He… he butchered them."
Zack put a hand on her shoulder. "I know. I already checked for survivors, but... I'm sorry. I had no idea he would…" He trailed off. "Why is he doing this?"
"He's heading…" Tifa winced. "To the reactor."
The First-Class SOLDIER looked past the burning town to the mountains beyond. "Jenova," he said, almost to himself. "I'll go after him. You stay- "
Tifa shook her head. "I'm coming with you."
"You're already injured and you don't stand a chance against Sephiroth. Stay here."
"I don't care!" the fifteen-year-old straightened, glaring at Zack. "He destroyed my home. I don't care if all I manage to do is distract him for a second, I'm not going to just sit here and let him go. Either take me with you or I'll follow you on my own."
Zack stared at her as if measuring her resolve, taking a deep breath through his teeth. "Fine," he said at last. "But don't rush into anything. If we have to fight him, you let me handle it, you hear me?" Tifa gave a reluctant nod, which Zack returned. "Let's go."
"We followed Sephiroth into the Nibel Mountains. There was evidence of his passing everywhere: Dead monsters lay on both sides of the path. They hadn't even slowed him down. When we got to the reactor, we found…"
There was a body crumpled near the door leading to the heart of the power plant, and Sephiroth's long sword lay beside it. Tifa knew right away who it was. She felt breathless, as if the general had knocked the wind out of her again. And in a way, he had. Without waiting for Zack, she hurried down the catwalk to drop to her knees beside the body.
"Papa…" the Third-Class SOLDIER breathed, calling him by the affectionate name she hadn't used since she was eight. "Sephiroth did this to you, didn't he?" She took his hand. It was already cold. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you. But… I won't let him get away with this. I swear it." Tifa glanced over her shoulder at where Zack was approaching, and she reached out blindly to take the Masamune in hand. Without waiting for the First, she ran through the door.
"Tifa, wait!" Zack shouted after her. She didn't listen.
Sephiroth was standing at the top of a metallic staircase. Pipes and tubes obscured the ceiling, like a nest of snakes writhing above them. Strange pods were lined up in rows, marching up the terraced chamber to where a sealed iron door pierced the thick wall. Above the door was one word: Jenova. The insane general stood before the portal with arms outstretched, like he was beseeching some deity to clear the path.
"Mother," he said. "I'm here to see you. Please… open this door."
Tifa didn't know what he was talking about. She didn't care. All she felt was rage and the sting of betrayal. This man had been a hero, an inspiration, one of the reasons she had joined SOLDIER, and he had destroyed everything, erased her past without effort or concern. "Sephiroth! How could you do this?! My father… the townspeople… and all for what?!"
She rushed up the stairs, her booted feet making the metal stairs ring with each step. SOLDIER training had included learning to wield various weapons. Swords were a part of it, but she had never used anything like the Masamune. If Tifa had been thinking more clearly, she would have left the long naginata behind, but she wasn't planning on a protracted fight with the former hero. Murder was on her mind.
The man in the black coat turned towards her. He seemed more annoyed than surprised, as if her attack was an interruption to his very important business of talking to a sealed door. Tifa slashed down with the long sword using all her SOLDIER strength and speed. Sephiroth retreated a step, putting his back against the door and reducing the attack from a killing blow to a shallow cut across his chest. He didn't even seem to notice the wound, moving forward again and seizing the Masamune out of her hands with impossible strength and speed. Tifa leapt back before her opponent could counter, almost losing her balance on the narrow steps.
"Sephiroth!" That was Zack, entering the room behind her. The SOLDIER with the silver hair didn't acknowledge the other man. He turned back to the door, and it opened as if in response to his will. Without a backwards glance, Sephiroth disappeared into the Jenova chamber. Before Tifa could follow, Zack rushed to her side, putting one gloved hand on her shoulder. He held the Buster Sword drawn and ready in his other hand. "I told you to wait." He sounded angry.
Tifa couldn't meet the young man's gaze. "You don't understand," she said. "What he did…"
"I saw what he did!" Zack snapped. "You're not going to get justice for them by charging in and getting yourself killed. Now… Stay. Here." Tifa glared at him, but couldn't quite meet his eyes. He waited a moment to gauge if his words had any effect, then ran off after Sephiroth.
Over the thrumming and throbbing of the Mako reactor's machinery, she heard Zack shouting at the other man, heard the low, indistinct sound of the madman's answers. There was a crash and then the unmistakable noise of weapons clashing. Tifa knew she should go and help Zack, wished she could go after him and take her enemy down, but she didn't move. She couldn't move. Her rage had retreated into some far corner of her mind and now fear held sway. Behind her eyelids, she could see Sephiroth fighting off monsters with no apparent effort, watched him destroy Nibelheim and its inhabitants in minutes, felt him wrench the Masamune from her with irresistible force.
He couldn't be human.
With a cry of pain, Zack's body soared through the still-open door under the "Jenova" placard. He slammed into one of the pods, rebounded, and staggered forward, making it back to the metal stairs before falling to his face. His limbs twitched, but it was clear he was out of the fight. From beyond the door, there was a heavy clang as the Buster Sword fell to the floor past the threshold. Tifa stared at the dark-haired First, her breathing loud in her ears.
Zack had failed.
There was no one left.
No one but her.
On wobbly knees, Tifa advanced. She didn't know what she was doing. If Sephiroth had defeated Zack – another First-Class SOLDIER – in a matter of minutes, what chance did a lowly Third like her have? Part of her wanted to just give up. The general had won. There was nothing she could do. But when she dragged her eyes away from Zack's fallen form, she imagined she saw the small figure of a little blond boy, eight or nine years old, standing near the doorway. His blue eyes regarded her with seriousness belying his age.
She remembered the last time she had seen those eyes, when she was clinging desperately to the boy's hand, struggling to pull him up onto the ledge where the rope bridge had once been secured. He had followed her onto Mount Nibel, seen the bridge she was on unravelling, and shoved her to the other side of the chasm just before it collapsed. He had saved her, though he was too slow to get to safety himself. Tifa had turned in time to catch him, but she was young, weak, frightened. His little hand had slipped from hers, and she had watched in horror as he fell, his somber gaze fixed on her until he crashed to the ground.
Overcome with anguish at her failure, Tifa had given up, not wanting to live with what she had just witnessed, what she had just allowed to happen. It had been so easy. She just leaned forward and followed Cloud down into the pit. Only she had survived with nothing worse than skinned knees. The little boy who saved her life was dead.
Dead because she was weak.
"Tifa…" Zack's voice was rough with pain. Blood ran down his face and one arm. "Just run… you can't beat him."
He was right. But she wouldn't give up again. Not this time. With new purpose in her steps, the fifteen-year-old marched through the door into the chamber beyond. The Mako smell – already almost overwhelming – was much worse here, thick enough to taste. More massive pipes and tubes cast deep shadows around the edges of the sepulchral room, but a brightly lit cylinder filled with liquid was at the center. Nested within the clear solution was a bizarre being unlike anything Tifa had ever seen. Parts of it seemed human, especially its face with its long, silvery hair. But its torso terminated in a massive, pulsing organ, like a human heart, complete with ventricles trailing from its underside. On its back were two fleshy, wing-like structures.
Standing in front of the tube and the creature within, Sephiroth was gloating, leaning against the glass in complete satisfaction. "At last, Mother," he said. "It's time for us."
Her enemy was distracted. Tifa took hold of the Buster Sword, which had lodged itself blade-down into the floor, and lifted it with as little noise as she could. With her Mako-enhanced strength, the giant weapon felt lighter than she had imagined it would. Nonetheless, she gripped it with both hands and crept up the strange conduit, which was stiff with the sluggish flow of red ichor, up to where Sephiroth stood. She could see now the platform they were on was suspended thirty meters above the emerald river of Mako energy processed through the reactor. One wrong step would send her plummeting to a certain death far below. Not even daring to breathe, the young girl drew the sword back, then shoved it forward with all her might.
The glass cylinder cracked. A few bubbles floated up from where the edge of the Buster Sword had broken the material. Sephiroth let out a gasp, a grunt of pain, leaning more heavily against the clear wall of Jenova's prison. He looked down to see the broad blade of the Zack's weapon and Angeal's before that sticking through his side.
"Never again," Tifa hissed. She backed away, sickened by what she had done. The silver-haired monster's knees buckled, and he crumpled against the tube, his gloved hands squeaking against the glass. But then, impossibly, he stood again and turned towards her. She had cut him almost in half, and he was still moving, still functional. She backed away, primal dread turning her blood to ice water, making her slow and stiff.
The Masamune rose and fell. She was too slow bringing up the Buster Sword to block. A line of agony, like fire, raced down her torso, from shoulder to hip. Blood spurted from the wound, soaking her shredded SOLDIER uniform instantly. The sound that slipped from her parted lips was less of pain that it was of confusion. Tifa stumbled back off the conduit, losing her balance and dropping to one knee, lifting an arm to her chest as if she could hold in her organs so easily.
For a moment, Sephiroth stood before her, sword in hand, silhouetted by the lights illuminating Jenova's prison. He looked like an avenging angel ready to strike her down. The illusion was broken when he stepped forward unsteadily and she could see the terrible wound she had inflicted on him. His teeth were bared and his green eyes with their vertical-slit pupils glared at her with hatred and rage.
"It doesn't end here," he said, and Tifa took minor satisfaction hearing the strain in his voice. "Not at the hand of someone like you." Sephiroth spun, his sword slashing through the cracked central tube, shattering the material and sending a rain of glass shards and clear fluid arcing through the chamber. At first, she thought he was attempting to free Jenova from its prison, but no… he leaned forward to grab the head of the creature and tore it off the main body with a sickening sound.
"Wh-what are you…?" Tifa's words were faint, and the very effort of speaking re-ignited the fiery agony of her wound.
The silver-haired madman looked over his shoulder, a pained smile on his face. He cradled the head of Jenova to his chest. "Now we'll be together… Mother. As we should be." As Tifa watched in disbelief, he stepped off the edge of the platform and dropped into the pit beneath them. She leaned over the edge to see his dark form vanish into the actinic green glow of the Lifestream running underneath them.
No one could survive that.
"It… it's over," Tifa mumbled, delirious with pain and exhaustion. The monster was gone. Tears gathered in her crimson eyes, trickling down her dirty cheeks. It was small consolation. Her father was dead. Claudia Strife was dead. Nibelheim was destroyed. And she would soon join the townspeople. The girl struggled to get back to her feet. She had no plan, she simply didn't want to die in the presence of Jenova. A few staggering steps brought her out to the staircase, but she missed her footing, dizzy with blood loss, and fell, landing on her chest on the metal stairs near Zack's prone body.
The sensation was indescribable, an explosion of pain making her vision go white. When she lost consciousness a moment later, it was a relief.
"I don't remember a lot after that. Afterwards, I learned a team of Shinra scientists had found Zack and I and taken us to a lab somewhere. It probably saved my life, but it was hard to be grateful. In the brief periods of consciousness, I was locked in an observation tube, submerged in distilled Mako. Zack was in a similar device next to mine. Time passed. I didn't know how much until later, but…" Tifa looked away, jaw set.
Aerith's question was quiet. "How long?"
"Almost five years," Tifa said, grim. "They stole five years of my life. They would have taken more, but Zack broke out of his prison and rescued me. I was… all kinds of messed up. From the Mako and whatever else they had done to me."
"Most of what happened between breaking out and… and when I reached Midgar is a blur. Zack had to drag me most of the way. We traveled by night, and, once, he disappeared for a long time. When he came back, he seemed somber, as if something had happened, but he didn't tell me what he had done."
"Eventually, he found us a ride to Midgar in the back of an old pickup truck. I was starting to come around by then, though I wasn't much good for conversation. Zack didn't talk much about Sephiroth or Nibelheim, which I appreciated. He was too busy making plans for the future. Had some crazy idea about us becoming mercenaries." Tifa let out a brief chuckle. "He mentioned he had a place he could stay, but then he realized the mother lived there, too." Aerith smiled sadly at that.
It was difficult for Tifa to continue. Cissnei pushed herself away from the wall, uncrossing her arms. "Shinra knew the samples taken in Nibelheim had escaped and went after them. First it was just the army, then the Turks. We didn't know who the 'samples' were until I found them. I didn't report what I had seen." The woman in the black suit glanced at Aerith. "Believe it or not, I was trying to help Zack. I'd worked with him before, several times, and it wasn't my intention to give him back to Hojo and his scientists."
No one spoke for a minute until Tifa forced herself to end the story. "The army found us first."
Zack was speaking urgently, pulling at her arm, tugging her out from the uncomfortable metal bed of the truck they had been riding in for what seemed like days. Around them was a rocky wasteland, barren of life. Above them was a blue sky dotted with a few distant white clouds. Where were they? Tifa shook her head, trying to clear the ever-present fog which seemed to have taken permanent residence in her thoughts. Mako addiction, Zack had said. From her time in the lab. The lab they had escaped from.
Escaped. The word sharpened her thoughts somewhat. They were escaping. Running from… who?
"What's going on?" she slurred.
The dark-haired First threw her left arm over his shoulder, taking her weight against him, walking them away from the dirty blue-green truck, which rumbled away in a shower of gravel as soon as they were clear. "It's the Shinra army. They caught up."
It was a struggle to make sense of his explanation, her mind still slow and murky. "How… many?"
"Not enough to stop us," Zack said, throwing her a grin. The angle she was viewing his face seemed wrong somehow. He wasn't leaning down or crouching to look her in the eyes. Had she grown… taller? Then she remembered something her friend had told her in the depths of her sickness. Five years. Nausea turned her stomach. Five years of her life gone. She looked down at herself and saw a stranger. A taller, bustier body. A woman's body, despite her long sojourn in the observation tube. Whatever they had done to her in the lab (don't think about it, she commanded herself), the Mako submersion had kept her muscles from atrophying. She was wearing a new uniform, one without the tear from Sephiroth's sword, and she felt almost nothing from the wound she had suffered but a slight stiffness.
As the revelations and memories stacked up in her head, she realized Zack was lying to her. She tried and failed to push herself off the young man, to walk on her own. "Lemme' go," she said, still having trouble speaking properly. "I can help… fight them off."
"Don't be stubborn, Tifa," Zack said. "You can barely stand. I'll take care of it, then I'll be back for you."
They had reached a rock outcropping and he was trying to sit her down on the shadowed side. "Stop treating me like a child," Tifa said. Her words were clearer this time. "I'm a SOLDIER, too."
Zack threw her a tight smile. "That you are. But you've done more than enough." Her strength was returning and she struggled against him. The smile vanished and he sighed. "Why don't you ever listen to me?" He raised a hand and chopped it into the side of her neck. The young woman went limp and dropped to the sandy ground, her vision going dark.
She knew nothing more.
Tifa groaned in her fitful slumber, curling around the old wound in her abdomen, the terrible slash Sephiroth had inflicted on her back in Nibelheim. She was trapped in the cyclical nightmare she had been experiencing for what seemed an eternity, the movie that had played behind her eyelids the entire time she had been held in the laboratory and after. It was a slide show of failure, starting from when she was a child of eight and running right up until today when Zack had subdued her, knocking her out to keep her from fighting at his side.
Her crimson eyes snapped open. That was several hours ago. The sky was dark above her now, gray clouds forming a ragged blanket across the wide-open sky. Thunder rumbled and rain pattered steadily against the ground. Maybe those were the noises that had awakened her. She had mistaken them for gunfire and explosions. Where was Zack?
Weakly, the female SOLDIER rose to her feet and staggered from her hiding spot, feet dragging in the mud and water of the wasteland. Beyond the end of the ridge on which she wandered, she saw Midgar, glowing in the darkening twilight, a beacon of light and progress. A lie. A den of monsters.
She lowered her gaze from the city and blinked, noticing the hellish sight at her feet. There were bodies everywhere. Shinra soldiers. What the hell had happened? Glowing eyes scanned back and forth over the carnage, looking for Zack, her heart pounding in her chest. It almost stopped entirely when she found him. He was lying on his back, staring up into the sky with a melancholy expression, the huge sword he had inherited from his mentor Angeal Hewley at his side.
His chest was riddled with bullet holes and his blood streamed away with the rainwater.
Tifa broke into a stumbling run. "Zack!" She dropped to her knees next to him, heedless of the blood and the mud. Was he already…?
But no, he took what looked like a deep, painful breath, as if drawing life into his body by sheer force of will. His blue eyes focused on her and he managed a small smile. "Tifa…" he breathed. "I'm glad you're safe… One of us made it."
The female SOLDIER bit her lip, shaking her head in denial of what she was seeing. "Shut up. You're gonna' make it through this, too, Zack. You survived fighting Sephiroth. This is nothing." She began patting her uniform, searching for medicine, for materia, for bandages, anything that might help.
"No, it's… it's okay." Zack breathed in again, a sharp, agonized inhale. "I lived my dreams. I kept my honor. And you're alive. There are worse ways to go."
"It's not okay!" Tifa shouted. "I can't let this happen again… I can't let someone else die for me." She was crying now, her whole body shaking.
The dying SOLDIER quirked a pained half-smile. "It's… not up to you. Everyone is free to make their own choice. Sometimes the price of freedom is high." Slowly, his right hand closed around the handle to the Buster Sword. He lifted it and held it out to her, raising his head to meet her gaze. "You've got your whole life ahead of you still. Do big things. And remember… your pride… as SOLDIER."
Numbly, Tifa closed her fist around the long hilt of the massive sword. Zack's smile broadened for a moment, then it slipped. His head dropped, and one final breath escaped from his limp body.
He was dead.
"No," Tifa murmured, shaking her head back and forth. "No, no, no, no, I can't do this again. This… this is too much." She grasped the buster sword in both hands now, huddled over the dead body of the man who had given his life to protect her.
Because she was still too weak to save herself.
She lifted her head to the gray sky and screamed until her voice gave out.
A/N: Phew... that was a long one. So, this chapter was kind of strange to write. The Nibelheim incident is the JFK assassination of Final Fantasy VII (in that it's the event that's had the most scrutiny applied to it). We have three independent ways of viewing the scene: The original game, Crisis Core, and the "Last Order" OVA. I ended up going with a combination of all three (the scene of Sephiroth willingly leaping into the Lifestream is from "Last Order", for example). Anyways, you'd think with this much material to work with, the chapter would write itself, but it didn't work that way at all. This was the most difficult chapter I've had to write yet, and definitely the longest.
I did decide to reveal most of the information I was holding back regarding the accident which killed Cloud, as well as including Zack's death. Unlike Cloud in the canon, Tifa has not buried those memories, so there's no reason she wouldn't reveal the information at this time. Probably the most difficult part of the chapter was squaring the circle of having Tifa fulfill both her role and Cloud's. She's a more emotional character than Cloud, and - in this reality - also physically stronger. Not that that would help her at all against Sephiroth.