Chapter 2-
Strange Happenings
"Your mind makes it real." ~Morphius, The Matrix
"That isn't right," Nanaki murmured, his tail swishing back and forth. "Not right at all."
"No shit it ain't right," Cid Highwind growled as he puffed on a cigarette. "But I came to you to see what you could make of it. Well?"
"Captain-" Shera began hesitantly, but was cut off as Cid rounded on her.
"Shut up! What have I @#$%^&* told you about calling me 'Captain'?!" he yelled. "The name's Cid!"
"Calm down, Cid," Nanaki said calmly. "Let's go back to the beginning."
The three of them were in the kitchen of Bugenhagen's house, or rather, Nanaki's home now. Apparently Cid had had some sort of problem, and now he and his chief mechanic, Shera, were seated at the table. Actually, only Shera was sitting. Cid was standing where he had jumped up agitation. He was angry because something had gone wrong. Nothing went wrong in Cid Highwind's life; that was why he had Shera, to make sure everything was kept running smoothly. Shera hadn't been doing her job.
Cid swore and sat down again. He took a breath to steady his nerves and began.
"I was just cruising around in one of my newest airships, the Apocalypse. Shera was with me, in case something went wrong. Didn't really expect anything happen, though. She was handling beautifully."
By "she" Nanaki assumed Cid meant the ship, because he had that glassy, far-away look in his eyes he got whenever he mentioned one of his aircraft. Cid lived for flying machines.
Then the pilot snapped back to attention." Then, this huge fireball-" He made a sweeping gesture with his cigarette to demonstrate. "-comes hurtling out of nowhere toward us. Now, if anyone could've outrun this thing it's me, but the was nothing I could do. The damn thing slammed into the bottom, right where the fuel tanks are kept! Then there's this huge explosion-" Cid waved his arms over his head. "-an' everything's smashed to smithereens. Every living thing is burned to a crisp, right? Well, five seconds later, I'm back in my pilot's seat, like nothing ever happened." Satisfied, the man leaned back in his chair and took a long drag on his cigarette.
"Are you sure," Nanaki said slowly, "that this wasn't a hallucination of some kind?"
Cid looked ready to explode, but Shera hurried in before he could speak.
"That's a good point, Red," she said, "but I was there too. I don't think we'd both have the same hallucination."
"There's something else, too," Cid interrupted. "As soon as I figured out I wasn't dead, I heard a laugh. A @#$%^&* freaky laugh."
"…freaky laugh," Nanaki muttered. He sighed. "I don't know about that, Cid, but something does seem strange with the Planet. Just the other day-"
Before he could go on, the door burst open and a man rushed in. It was Brian, one of the currant residents of Cosmo Canyon.
"Brian," Nanaki said in mingled surprise and concern. "What-"
"Nanaki, the Gi Tribe is attacking!" the other cried. "They're killing everything in sight!"
"What?!" Nanaki roared. Forgetting his guests, he bounded after Brian out the door. Cid and Shera looked at one another, then followed.
The canyon was in devastation. Shops and buildings were on fire, raging out of control. Everywhere they looked people were battling strange, ghostly figures. Dead were already piled on the ground.
"What the hell-" Cid started to say, but stopped. Nanaki was looking both more angry and more saddened then Cid had ever seen him. He was crouched low, hackles raised. A low growl emitted from his throat.
"Red, what-" He was again cut off.
"My home. My responsibility. My home." Nanaki looked about wildly, the flames reflecting his good eye. Visions of past destruction flew through his mind…the last war in the Canyon, when the Gi attacked…Seto…his father… "What are they doing to my home?!"
"Relax, Red." Cid was clearly apprehensive about his friend. "We can take care of-"
"My name is Nanaki!" He uttered that sentence in such a fierce tone that Cid stepped back. Ignoring him and Shera, Nanaki leapt into the midst of the fighting, clawing and tearing in a frenzy.
"Come!" Brian called, motioning for them to help. He was just wading into the fight when an arrow struck his thigh. He fell on his side, groaning in pain. Cid and Shera hurried to his side.
"Captain, look!" Shera drew back in horror as the flesh around where the arrow had penetrated turned gray and hard, like stone. Brian gave a whimper of fright as he realized what was happening.
"Don't…let…it," he whispered, but the stone spread quickly all over his body, his legs, his chest, his neck…
Here the stone stopped. Brian gave a soft laugh, or it may have been a sob. He looked at Cid with wide eyes.
"I see her," he said hoarsely. "She's…laughing. She's saying…"
"Saying what?"
Brian's eyes were wide, and he looked to be having trouble breathing. Cid shook him, trying to keep him focused. "What's she saying?!"
"'AVALANCHE shall taste my vengeance'. That's all." He gave a short scream. "She's reaching out…don't let her touch me! Don't-"
"What the hell?!" Cid demanded, but it was too late. Brian gave a shudder, and his head turned to stone.
"Captain, behind you!" Shera screamed. Cid whirled around to see a ghostly phantom of the Gi tribe rushing at him, wide, sucking mouth eager for his blood…
And then all three of them were back in Nanaki's kitchen. No fighting, no fires, nothing. Nothing.
Nanaki ran back and forth for a moment in obvious confusion, then relaxed a bit. He sat down and looked around, his muzzle whipping back and forth.
"What happened?" he asked.
"It was just like in the Apocalypse," Shera said. "First, vivid, violent action. Then…like nothing ever happened."
Cid was shaking his head. "Damn…" was all he would say.
Nanaki went to the door. "Brian!"
The man appeared. "You called, Nanaki?"
Nanaki studied him up and down. Brian appeared perfectly normal. "Did anything just happen?"
Brian looked confused. "Nothing out of the ordinary."
Nanaki looked at him long and hard, then nodded. "Very well. You may go."
Brian left, looking extremely perplexed.
"So it only affected us," the woman mechanic said thoughtfully.
"Ha! Told ya so," Cid crowed as he lit up another cigarette. "This is @#$%^&* messed up shit we're dealing with, here."
"'AVALANCHE shall taste my vengeance'," Shera said quietly. "Are Cloud and the others in danger?"
In answer Cid grabbed his PHS. "It's time for a meeting."
* * * * * *
Two deep blue eyes shot open. He sat up, a hand to his head.
He was still in the laboratory. He remembered giving Jenova the materia, a loud explosion…a triumphant laugh…
Then blackness.
The explosion must have knocked him back, he reasoned. His probing hand found a painful lump on the back of his head. Probably he had hit the lab table and lost consciousness for a few minutes.
He looked around the lab. Devastation was evident everywhere, nothing was in one piece. Everything had been destroyed by some unseen force. He hardly noticed all this, however. He looked about frantically, but to no avail.
Jenova was gone.
He climbed to his feet, blue eyes staring into the darkness of the lab, as though he could simply will his query to appear. But there was no denying it. Jenova had vanished.
He kicked a broken piece of equipment aside in frustration, then grasped the rope hanging from above. He had to get to the junkyard.
Knowing the layout of the huge place, he had had his men use explosives to blow a hole through the roof of the building, then extend a rope through the junkyard so high above. It was a long climb, but they hadn't had any other options.
He reached the top of the rope, into the junkyard. His men should be here, if the explosion hadn't scared them off. It was just dusk, and the gathering darkness made it difficult to see.
The junkyard appeared empty. He slowly stepped through it, listening. Not a sound except his own breathing.
Then he tripped, sprawling to the ground on his hands and knees. He pushed his hair out of his eyes and turned back to see what had tripped him.
It was a body. The eyes were so wide with fright he could see the whites all around. The hands were frozen in front of the body in a defensive posture. The mouth was open in a silent scream of terror.
He frowned. He recognized the corpse of one of his men. He had brought all twenty with him. Not much of a force, but enough of one if he ran into trouble.
He shoved the body aside and stood. His eyes finally penetrated the darkness, and he saw other bodies scattered around the junkyard.
They were all dead. Every one of them.
His icy eyes narrowed. He had known Jenova would destroy anything in its path, but he had been planning on negotiating with it before it got to his men. This was a dangerous being.
And still it was nowhere in sight. Where had it gone?
What would be the first thing Jenova would do once it had been freed?
Suddenly he knew.
Midgar. He had to get to Midgar.
* * * * * *
Aeris stumbled through Sector 3, a little ashamed of herself for running away. After all, it had only been one woman, and she had defended herself against worse odds before…
But whenever she recalled the malicious ruthlessness in those penetrating eyes, the evil aura surrounding the mysterious person…no, creature, she knew she had done the right thing. There was no way she could fight that kind of wickedness.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the bent old lady until she nearly walked into her. Aeris stepped back in surprise.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, helping the woman to her feet. "I wasn't-" She stopped short when she realized the woman's face was wet with tears. "Why, what's the matter?"
"Please, Miss," the woman begged, catching hold of Aeris' arm. "My granddaughter- she's dying. Won't you help her?"
Aeris looked at the wrinkled, tear-streaked face and couldn't refuse. She allowed herself to be led into a shallow side alley. She noticed with unease the hostile glares she received from people in the darker corners of the alley. She did not belong here; she was an outsider, and therefore an enemy. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulder.
The old woman stopped by a large dumpster and knelt by a pile of oily rags. Aeris knelt beside her and was surprised to see what vaguely resembled a child wrapped in the rags. At least, she thought it was a child. The face was so thin and pale, with such sunken cheeks and feverish, glassy eyes, she couldn't be sure. A fine sheen of sweat shone on the waxy skin, and the child herself looked too weak to even lift her head.
"Martha, dear," the woman whispered, smoothing the girls bangs back from her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
A low moan was all the girl could manage. Struck by the pitiful scene, Aeris leaned forward and put a hand on Martha's hot face. Immediately she could sense she was not doing well. The child would almost certainly die.
"Tell me about this sickness," she said to Martha's grandmother as she used the edge of her shawl to wipe the girl's hot face. "How did it happen?"
"It struck the slums a few days ago," the woman began. "No one knew how it happened; it just came. It was like a plague." She paused. "The strange thing, though, is the visions."
"Visions?"
"Before the fever strikes, every victim has a vision of some kind. They're all different, but they're all horrible. After someone has one, they usually end up screaming and crying. It's a terrible thing to watch." The woman's cracked lips trembled as she looked at the stick-like figure of Martha.
Aeris nodded quietly and picked up the girl's limp hand. She was surprised to see a blackened area of skin, almost like an insignia, on the back of her hand. "What's this? A birthmark?" It had a strange shape, she noted, like an hourglass. It stood out horribly on the child's white skin.
"No, not a birthmark," the woman said faintly. "It's…something that appears on the hand. It's the sign of the plague, see." Once again she hesitated. "Some say it's Death's own mark. I've got one too." She held out her wrinkled brown paw for Aeris to see. The red hourglass shape was easily discernible, even in the low light. "It's only red until the virus really sets in. Then it turns black. When it's black, you have only hours to live."
"I'm sorry," Aeris said quietly. "There's nothing I can do." She swallowed. "For either of you."
A wheeze from Martha startled both women.
"Grandma." Her voice was soft and muffled, as though choked with tears. "Grandma, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to take care of me. It's my fault, isn't it." The tears streamed from the girl's eyes. "It's my fault you're sick, too."
"No, child, it's not your fault." The elderly woman bent over Martha, tears coursing down her face as well. "It's not your fault."
Shaking her head, and close to tears herself, Aeris slowly backed out of the alley.
She was thinking furiously. She had seen that symbol before.
The Sresla.
A shattering wail interrupted her thoughts, scattering them to oblivion. The anguish in the scream grew in pitch, rising, to spill over in wracking sobs of heartbreak. Martha must have slipped away.
Aeris broke into a run.