The Reincarnation Chapter 1 – Part 4 – Conspiracy

Dr. Sephier casually raised his finger to his lips and made a subtle 'shhh' to indicate the secrecy of the information he had just handed out to Bernard. The candles gave off a reminiscent glow that just barely managed to fill the room. There was an unsettled silence in the hut as the information from the book was compiled into a few notes on a sheet of paper—there wasn't much to gather, but what there was to gather was of great importance to these two men and eventually the world—Bernard, this time, was not the one to break the unrestful atmosphere.

        "Bernard..." The name ricocheted around the room. "I need you to figure out where the materia could've gone to."

        "Well..." he replied, "If it is what you say it is, a living being, then primary instincts…" it's an animal, I must remember that, "…Would be to return to its birthplace for shelter..." The doctor placed his hand in the air as a friendly gesture to contribute to the last statement.

"...And since it isn't fully evolved yet, that is the first place it would go."—Evolved; a term used too lightly in this case. The materia was more than just evolved, it was advanced in such a way that a single, inanimate object, was alive and had the potential of such chaos even though it wasn't aware of it as yet—but like every living thing, it had to grow up; and a hastily pace at that. It was hard to fathom exactly what was going on, but they were determined to find out.

~oO0Oo~

        Sephier stood up out of his chair holding the book from which he had just been working. All of a sudden there was a loud, unmistaken bang and the book was seen banging on the floor. Clasping his forehead, the doctor propped himself on the desk. What just happened? What is wrong? He looked up to see Bernard scrambling around on the floor picking up the fallen book, trying to dismiss that there could be something wrong with Sephier who seemed so perfect in his eyes. You don't have to do that. "Thank you, Bernard." He gently took the book out of Bernard's hand and returned it to the shelf from whence it came.

        "Sir, do you feel alright?" The young man spoke with a hesitant stammer in his voice.

        "Yes...I," He rubbed his forehead once again, "I'll be fine, just haven't had much sleep lately." Sephier backed in to a chair, projecting it across the floor. "That's all."

        "Sir." At this time he looked at the doctor, puzzled. "Sir..." advancing towards the doctor, he held out his hand. Dr. Sephier's head spun and Bernard's words were no more than a humble buzz surrounding his ears as he went into a sudden daze. Sweat poured from his brow as he frantically waltzed around the hut. Shivering with cold, he blacked out and collapsed in a heap in the floor.

"SIR!"

~oO0Oo~

        By the time he had got his bearings and come around, he was staring at a peaceful, white ceiling which placed a feeling of well-being in his heart—more of a comfort and reassurance to know that he wasn't dead—The air was filled with a clinical smell and he was situated opposite a small window at the far side of a long, echoing hall-like room. He was in hospital.

        "Nurse." Bernard was perched on the seat beside him—like a faithful lap dog. He didn't doubt that he had been sitting there for the entire time he had been in the hospital. By his side. A few hours. A few hours tops, I've been unconscious for a few hours. "Welcome back sir." Sephier opened his mouth greet the welcome back and to speak and nothing came out. "Don't speak sir..." I can't speak, "You need to conserve your energy..." What happened? Why can't I speak? How long have I been here? "It's been a while..." How long? The nurse walked in with an emotionless look on her face as she gave the doctor a haughty look-over and placed her clipboard next to his head. Sephier tried to turn his head to read the neighbouring clipboard and the records on the paper which might give him a few answers to his boundless questions, and he couldn't; he couldn't move at all. Bernard, what is going on? Why am I asking Bernard? He can't read my thoughts "They recovered the materia sir..." Well at least there is some good news intertwined with this madness. "...at the same time as you collapsed, too." Wait, so soon? If they recovered it…how long have I been here? The date, what is the date? He looked blankly at Bernard since he couldn't possible manage to do anything else. "...Three days sir, three days you have been here. They still don't' know what happened to you that night."

        "You heard me thinking?" In a split second, everything had changed. The doctor was sat up in bed and fully mobile. "What just happened?" This can't be happening. Are you losing it Jules? No, can't be, I can remember it as clear as day. "Thinking? Sir? You have been talking to me for the past four hours about what we have recovered." Bernard looked at the doctor. Sephier looked at Bernard—the continuous stare was foreboding as it lasted for at least five minutes—This just isn't right. "Are you ok Sir?" I've just been in a coma and switched places in a few seconds, what do you think? "...Shall I get a nurse?" A nurse won't help what's going on...

        "I'll be fine, thank you, Bernard...don't worry about me, I'll be fine." Awashed with jumbled thoughts, Sephier looked through the window and stared at the fluffy masses of clouds that engulfed the crater and the secrets held within its fiery depths and tried to single out and piece together the recent events. They were nothing more than a blur and the twisted aftermath of the primary actions taken by Sephier were not ones to be cast aside and forgotten, yet Sephier could not recall anything apart from a name. A surname—one he had heard and remembered before—Calder; the name of the female student. Alicia Calder. Suddenly it came to him and the vivid recollection baffled him as to why he didn't remember it before. Calder—the author of the history book back in the library the he was reading—I've got to get out of here. "Bernard. Gather your stuff..." this is going to be fun "...we're going!" Bernard pushed Sephier firmly back into his bed.

"Jones!" Bernard held him down.

"JONES!" Sephier tried to struggle free but to no avail since he was worn down by the medication trailing from the intricate, intravenous injections that lead to a mass of tubes and machinery. Sephier had never been into a hospital as a patient, not even when he was born was he confined to a clinical building as he was born at home following his mother's wishes.

        Something was going on and Bernard was no longer the conscientious man he used to know, but a cold-hearted, egotistical heathen. This didn't seem to be the same world as it was six days ago when the materia was first discovered, lying in a bed of rubble. Dr. Sephier had to read that book again—not out of choice, but a spontaneous urge to reach for the information contained within its pages—This wasn't just a scientific discovery and breakthrough anymore, it had turned into a full-scale investigation spanning an entire half-century—Sephier was the only person who fully understood the purpose of his own actions. He was the only being to have noticed the changes through the years—the only one to know that there was something wrong with the civilisation around him—Others were just followers of the 'cynical' movement that he seemed to be the founder of. They were just believers who had broken the bubble that society had conveniently placed them in and began to believe something that was different from what they had been taught yet not able to come up with something themselves; turning to the 'cynical' movement because it was something different, not that they actually knew what it was or what it stood for. They were just a new type of sheep that chose to believe something and got lead on from there. It couldn't be helped that people wanted something different so Sephier didn't bother, he just wanted the support, the backup if anything was to go wrong so he wasn't on his own.

        Meaninglessly bound to a bed in Icicle Inn Hospital, there was no way he could get out to return to the Crater Compound library anytime soon to fulfil his urges. The windowpanes reflected the winter sunlight, which pelted the heat towards Sephier—the window, perfect escape route—The nurse came trundling down the aisle that ran down the middles of the hospital ward and stood at the edge of the bed. The nurses. I can't get out because of the nurses that are in my way. The nurse casually strolled up to the side of Sephier's bed and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. What is she doing? With a cold hand on the doctor's arm, the other hand lifted up a cover on a tray that was situated below his legs under the bed and picked up a needle with some crystal-clear solution in it that sent an array of sunbeams reflected around the room—it almost looked pretty—With one flick of the syringe, she pierced Dr. Sephier's skin which sent a slight twinge of pain to Sephier's brain as she administered the sedative into the doctor's already-lifeless body. "This should keep you quiet." she smirked at the doctor and he returned the favour with a sly, yet bemused look on his face. Thanks very much lady, ruined my plans... As the doctor waited patiently for the sedative to take effect, he got a little light headed and a wave of nausea entwined his stomach, but he didn't feel any weaker or tired; he just felt normal apart from a bit ill. The nurse walked off looking back several times to double-check on Sephier's progress. The sedative isn't working; luck must be on my side today. When the nurse realised the sedative wasn't taking effect on the doctor, she walked back in such a furiously, fast pace it looked more of a clumsy skip than a walk. ...I don't want her to give me anymore. I guess that if she did, it would put me out of my misery, but I wouldn't be able to escape. The nurse was getting progressively closer to Dr. Sephier's bed. How can I stop her? He looked around hastily for a solution to his dilemma. If I'm already asleep, there will be no reason for her to pump some more of that...that stuff into me. As the nurse grabbed the bar at the bottom of his bed with an almighty clunk, he sat back and closed his eyes. Taking deep breaths, he somehow managed to relax in the heat of the situation. I just hope this works. The nurse gave out a heavy sigh and walked away—Sephier couldn't distinguish the sigh between a sigh of relief; or a sigh of just being plain annoyed. Whichever it was; she was gone—As he listened to her clicking footsteps gradually fade as she continued along the marble floor, he slowly opened his eyes. It worked. Three cheers for Jules! Sephier looked across to his left. Now to make sure he doesn't move... —There, still sat Bernard; and by the sound of his perpetual snoring, in deep slumber—He looked at the reclined man on the chair beside him then onto the window again. The sun was setting and lucky for him, the sun set earlier at this time of year so far north—the efflorescence of colours from the sunset was a sight to be seen. A myriad of reds, yellows and soothing bronzes. Sephier had watched many sunsets in his lifetime but this one seemed more special than all the others. Maybe it was because the sun was setting on this world he inhabited and was to rise again with new prospects and a whole new beginning. The main thing about the early sunset meant that Sephier had less time to think over his plans and flaw himself like he always seemed to do—he was never pleased with his work the first time round, he didn't trust himself enough to produce a perfect piece of work the first time he attempted it—He had less time to rethink his plan completely and get rid of the flaws like: When is he going to get up to the window? How is he going to manage it? Where is he going to after he has made his break for freedom? Well that one was pretty obvious, which would waste more of the little, precious time he had left. Since there was another three hours before the darkness of nightfall crept upon the village, he sat back once again and carried on staring at the window.

        Darkness stole the light in the hospital and Sephier looked at the empty chair beside him. Even though it wasn't the Bernard he knew that was there before and had now departed, he appreciated the company under any circumstances rather than being alone with only his thoughts and theories to keep him company, which had a repetitive nature. Bernard, or whoever it was, had an uncanny way of keeping you awake in the most lethargic of environments—a lot like a cold shower on a hot, humid summer afternoon that replenishes the life that had been diminished throughout the day by the driving heat of the sun—Dr. Sephier sat up, trying not to be noticed, and looked down the vacant corridor. He had taken the liberty to take the laborious task of timing the period between ward inspections. It just goes to show the mistrust is still alive in the world, I guess that the source of the problem can't change people's personal opinions, just their train of thought. Society does the rest. The third nurse of the five that do the rounds had just gone passed so the doctor had three minutes to make a break for freedom. There was an element of strategy in his madness since it wasn't a straight road to success. Here we go Sephier leapt from his bed with his bare feet slapping on the cold, hard marble floor. Never had he been so determined to accomplish something knowing it could get him further in his investigation. As he clambered onto the chair below the window that was luckily conveniently placed there earlier by one of the visitors to the ward, he slipped and the window in his hand swung back and hit its own frame. The glass shattered around him. Just watch me get caught now...The nurses rushed around the corner and leapt at the doctor, grabbing his lower-torso as it hung lifelessly from the window. Halfway through the window, Sephier shook his legs to try and avoid the consequences of getting caught by one of these butch-built women. An alarm sounded and wailed through the hospital that, fortunately, startled one of the nurses clinging to Dr. Sephier's lower-torso. Her grip loosened and he managed to break free from the nurse's grasp. Dr. Sephier clambered through the gap and the fresh air rushed through his hair, the coldness beat at his eyes and the snow gently embraced his feet; but he had no times to admire such pleasantries—he hardly had time to think; well apart from one thought that ran through his head constantly.

        Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this?

        Why am I doing this? "Why am I doing this?"

        The reality of the situation hit him in the face like a brick wall and didn't fail to break his soul and hope. The alarms and sirens were blanked out by the realisation but he kept running. Lights from helicopters obscured his vision and kept track of his whereabouts; yet he still kept running not caring about what was happening. A loud bang was heard and he whipped his body around to look behind him, the world slowed, almost to a halt. The shot rang out across the vast landscape as a rifle in a soldier's hand exploded and sent a bullet careering towards Sephier. The Soldier was dressed in a familiar uniform. Shinra...The doctor turned fully to face his assassin only to have his chest punctured by the projecting bullet. As it tore through Sephier's flesh, the excruciating pain jolted through his body as he succumbed to the bullet's every whim. He had been shot, no doubt about it. Why? He grabbed hold of the wound and wailed out in pain. Why? Unable to keep a steady head, he collapsed on the floor. Lifeless. A crimson river lead from the sinewy, torn flesh and the snow was no longer a pure, innocent white; it was a crude, bloodshed crimson that wasn't pretty anymore. Death isn't pretty. It's a fact of life, yes, but it still doesn't make it the slightest bit pretty. Sephier couldn't take the strain anymore and closed his eyes to get what was coming to him. Goodbye... Darkness came to the sunlight in his soul, but never to recede again in the morning, but to linger. It was here to stay. Sephier relaxed and fell unconscious, not able to take the pain anymore…he was one to never give up; but this time, he had no choice.

~oO0Oo~

        Dr. Sephier opened his eyes to see a familiar pair of eyes looking back at him. Bernard? He recognised the cold, icy, yet comforting eyes. Sephier bolted upright and took a sharp glance over to Bernard who was kneeling by his right-hand side. What happened? I'm not dead?

        "Sir?" Bernard inched forward to see if his mentor was okay. I'm not dead. Where am I? Totally unaware of his colleagues concern, he took a mental note of his surroundings and it kicked in that he was back in the Crater Compound Library and Bernard was waving a book in his face to cool him down. The book. Not thinking anything of what just happened, he snatched the book straight out of Bernard's hands and slammed it down on the desk to start compiling notes again.

        "Excuse me sir...well..." Not now Jones, "You passed out cold sir..." and? "Well...shouldn't you, um, sit down?" The tone in his voice was as if he was insisting rather than giving him the option of doing so.

        "Bernard...thank you for caring, but I only fainted..." went in a coma, escaped from a prison rather than hospital, got shot and died "...it's nothing to worry about." Sephier managed to sneak a smile onto his face—genuine or not, it was still a smile. "I guess you're right..." Bernard replied sheepishly, "...sir."

        "There we go, wasn't so bad now was it?" Sephier gave his assistant a hardy pat on the back and decided not to tell him about his visions. If I told him everything, he would think I was mad. Bernard smiled back and made his way over to the other side of the room.

        "Sir...I just though I should let you know..." the doctor sharply turned on his heel and addressed Bernard willing him to carry on, "...in the half an hour you were out cold, they found the materia..." They did? I mean...

        "They did?" Dr. Sephier's face shone with excitement as he asked, "Who did?" anxiously waiting for a reply he sat down and tried to control himself.

        "Calder, Alicia Calder. The new student sir..." it wasn't the book after all, it was...her.