Chapter 4

1.1.1.1 It's all getting a little surreal.



"Don't touch me!"

He flew up the ladder to the roof in a matter of seconds, running straight out, almost crashing into the railing that seperated him from six hundred feet worth of straight-down. The screaming subsided a little, and he realised belatedly that it was because there were instruments in the observatory to amplify the planet's every sound. This was the first time they'd been entirely coherent though, at least, to anyone but himself.

As much as they had quietened though, he could still hear them running like a constant silver thread through his mind. It never completely stopped, becoming a soft and sometimes soothing music, a childhood lullaby. Aerith had explained a little, as much as she could remember, of how to interpret what he heard. But Aerith had been a Cetra, able only to talk to the spirit energy of her own kind or hear perhaps the less complex emotions of the planet itself. Cloud had discovered, painfully, that he did not have a single drop of Cetra blood. It had been one reason why Jenova accepted him, allowed him to serve her. Subtlety was not the word for what he felt.

There was one overriding message, strong enough from both his own nagging subconscious and the soul, for even planets have a soul, of the earth itself. He was wasting time sitting around here. He was so wrong about having plenty of time, there was so little now, he'd have to leave without them. Besides, he wasn't going to fall back into the habit of collecting strays.

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Vincent was the first to follow, but as the others waited, he was the only one to return. His expression unreadable, if anything perhaps a little concerned. "He's gone."

"There's no-where to go up there Vincent." Nanaki reasoned, "It's not like he could climb down the side of the observatory."

"I couldn't see him anywhere, he's gone." Vincent insisted, heading straight out of the room with Cloud's forgotten Claymore. The door slammed behind him with a peculiar finality.

"That was weird."

"You think we should go too?" Carrie looked to Nanaki for confirmation, but he shook his head.

"I doubt either of you would be capable of catching Vincent, and if Cloud doesn't want to be followed."

"He didn't mind before." Carrie argued, gathering the materia into a small cluster. "Besides, why would he give me these? I'm following, even if I have to break his Chocobo out of the coop."

"Why?"

"Why what?" Her head snapped up to let her stare angrily at Naethan. "I don't have to tell you why, I can do whatever I damn well want." In truth, his question had unnerved her. She didn't know why she wanted to chase after the two strange men she'd met only a day ago, but she knew something big was happening, and if something big was happening that she had even briefly been involved in. "I just want to, that's all. I never said you had to come with me." They were not going to leave her back here, wondering what she might have got herself into.

With that, Carmine Alexandra Kisaragi, last remaining (to her knowledge) Desciple of Leviathan, pocketed the world's three last Materia and walked out.

"Nanaki. Why do I have the feeling she's chasing after ghosts?"

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The barracks on the outskirts of Kalm were a long way past settling down for the night. Though intermittantly one of the unlucky troopers posted for that evening's patrol duty would shuffle despondantly along their allotted stretch of corridor.

The officer's quarters were a slightly different matter. Located at the far side of the old complex, away from the main gates, they were an easier point of return for small groups of curfew breakers, and were only guarded from a point at either entrance.

Normally, any sensible cadet would not be seen within a hundred meters of the old buildings. Not only were they full of higher ranking soldiers, but it was said they were haunted by the ghosts of the Mako-eyed Shinra Elite that had used this place as a training facility. Usually considered to be tales used by the officers to keep cadets away, the idea, after a night's application of alcohol, became almost. almost attractive. What could be a bigger laugh than to cut through officers quarters past midnight, while the younger members of their little group almost wet themselves.

The reality was a little less convincing, at least if you got lost on the way through. One such cadet was finding herself in just such a situation. She'd been this way before; with the same group; from her dorm; only last week and was to her own judgement still firmly on the pretty side of soused. Although that was quickly wearing off as it became more obvious she'd been set up. Not daring to call out in case someone heard, settling instead on a grunt that was intended to express extreme pissed-offness while not actually intended for anyone to hear, just in case, she tugged on the hem of her entirely unsuitable skirt and shuffled along the polished floor. With stiletto heels safely clutched in one fist, for ease of movement and indeed, an extremely effective weapon should she catch up with the rest of her so called 'friends,' it was a little like ice-skating.

Too dark, too cold and creepy enough without the ghost stories. She grit her teeth in an effort to stop them chattering with cold or fright or an effort not to burst out giggling. The best strategy, she considered, would be to find the main corridor and head roughly in the direction of the eastern wing. It was a pity, then, that while in a pleasantly drunk state it was almost impossible to distinguish East from Left.

At least she'd not run into either ghosts or superiors, yet, and almost as if the gods had finally decided to give her a break the next corner she slid then stumbled around was the wider passage, flanked by large moonlit windows on one side and the dark portals to guest quarters on the other. Just, in fact, as the sound of muffled footsteps began to take on a slightly sharper edge, given by proximity. With a rush of liquor-spiked adrenaline she barely managed to drop behind a large pot plant, stuffing an arm ferociously into her mouth and forcing her eyes open, though her view was now hidden by withered foliage, not enough to hide her, but too much to see exactly who it was.

He strode quickly along without even a glance in her direction thankfully, and by the look of his uniform, luckily, though the colour was stained brown in the moonlight. It was probably one of the delegation from Fort Condor, a Lieutenant. Soon after his passing, after the door at the end of the corridor swung shut, and a few minutes more to be certain, she crawled warily from her cover. Looking back at it, it was a wonder how anyone could miss her behind such a moth-eaten specimen. Still, when it works, she figured, it would be better not to think too hard about it until safely back in bed awaiting the inevitable hangover and three hundred press-ups before breakfast.

Reinforcing her grip on the shoes which had cost her half a paycheck, the trooper scrambled back onto her feet in preperation for the next charge. She never made it, one glance toward the distant doors was enough. Instead of the officer having left, there were now two people standing there in conversation. Dropping back, the cold outer wall was once more pressed against in frustration, the plant resmed it's duty as a barely adequate screen. "Fucking great." She hissed as the leaves around her shivered sympathetically. It was a miracle she'd survived this long flailing around like a rookie, which admittedly she was. The two figures appeared almost as wary of being about this late as she was, hovering like moths around a small patch of light in front of a door. There were words spoken, in hushed whispers, as if a fierce debate was taking place. Perhaps she'd caught spies in the group. She quickly pushed that thought back to wherever it came from, since what good would it do if she couldn't tell anybody. Instead, she strained to hear a little.

".only have one day here, . most of it."

The smaller figure nodded in agreement, moving toward the door before she, or he, it wasn't easy to tell in the darkness, was caught roughly by the arm.

The trooper, pressing into the wall so hard that it threatened to leave an outline, or if she was really lucky, to swallow her whole, watched incredulously as the argument grew into a fight. Suddenly 'fight' took on a whole dictionary to itself and threw up words like 'assault' and 'rape.'

"Oh, shit, shit. no." She curled tightly, unable to tear her eyes away from the horrific scene as the tall man pinned the other to the wall, looking around nervously, as if to make sure nobody saw. The man's hair was long, braided, but his eyes were even more distinct as they threatened to strip every leaf from the pathetic weed between herself and them.

Turning back toward his quarry without even the slightest notice paid to her quivering presence, he seemed to soften somewhat. He raised his free hand to trail slowly down a pale arm, perhaps taunting, but the atmosphere had lost it's tinny sense of dread in exchange for something more profound. Highlighted, chiaroscuro the lingering couple paused exactly on the cusp of existance, where one move could, believably, throw the universe into chaos.

Or perhaps it was the alcohol talking, since her brain had shut down to the point where higher funtion consisted of remembering to breathe. But as that caress became as slow as an eclipse, and finished with a kiss comparable to some blinding corona, she had to finally avert her eyes for fear of burning them in the dark.

Ten minutes later, and with the mixed feeling that she'd like to forget this night. regretfully knowing it was likely to happen, she crept back out into an empty hallway.



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Author's note. Short and sweet, just like the chapter. @_~

I had an Idea. it was so good at the time that it really did deserve a capital! I don't know if it worked, but since I'm writing this for a giggle; ask me if I give a rat's ass.

The short story in the barracks was originally a one off, but it was a little too ambiguous, or so I was told by a certain someone, who knows me by yet another name (Cybergoth-kiroko.) Whom I promised not to identify, (he knows who he is!) I decided to incorporate it into my fic.

Niggurath's balls! I'm trying to keep this as vague as I can, but I keep thinking how obvious it all is. Then again, I know what's happening.

Oh well. as always, peace and love. as long as it's interesting. Check my piccies people!

Sayonara

~Stormy~

P.S. I meant you, Aurelius!