Short chapter. Again. I'm very sorry, I'm attempting to work on this story and some JTHM-related stuff at the same time, screwing up both in the process. Chapter 4 should be up any day now.

--------silec

The world was changed. Not just the landscape, which in and of itself had become completely alien in the space of a few hours, but the atmosphere surrounding the humans still alive within it. They seemed unanimated, dead. It would have done them all good to spend some time thinking, alone.

This is what he told himself when people started leaving. There are many factors, of course, says his mind. They need time. They're just as lost and confused as I am. Everybody knows that they all just need some time.

But he was the only one who can say it. He, the fearless leader. When Vincent first approached the group, with a humbled request that he be allowed to leave for an unknown period of time, everyone looked to Cloud. He, of course, gave him permission. As he did for Barret and Red, and finally for Yuffie when her emergency supply of perkiness eventually petered out.

Two weeks after the accident, Cloud took a slow, steady walk through the airship. Through a constant effort, she was repaired to almost new. But his footsteps in the empty shell left a dull, hollow ache in his chest. The metal was the same. The wiring, the layout was exactly the same. But it was so very different. That soul-crushing absence.

A fortnight on that depressing cliff had done something to his mind. He became fidgety, always questioning Cid about how long it would be until they'd be ready for takeoff.

Reeve's doll was malfunctioning. His connection, from all the way in Midgar to God knows where had been nearly severed, leaving him only able to send messages. Motor control was completely offline. At the moment, Cait Sith's only purpose was a large, plush intercom. Sometimes Cloud wished that Reeve could be there in person, to diminish that searing loneliness somewhat. The doll had also become quite annoying. His messages were often vague and repeated over and over again like a broken record.

The ship left at dawn, the next day. Cid's crew had remained, leaving him to try and fix Cait Sith while they piloted the ship. Cloud was their captain, as always. He directed them to seemingly random locations, letting the ship touch down upon the cracked earth for only a few seconds before shouting out more coordinates. Every now and then, it became necessary that they stop, for supplies or whatever reason fit the circumstances. It is on these stops that Cloud first saw the full extent of the tragedy. Towering metropolises reduced to smoldering wreckage, monuments that had stood for ages now a blackened crater.

Cloud saw it in the eyes of people, too. At one nameless, featureless campsite, he leaned against a supporting pole of a merchant's tent, impatiently waiting for Cid to finish up his purchase and get back into the air. He caught the shadowed glances of more than one individual. They'd seen his face before, and they'd long since attributed it to fear and destruction. He knew it wouldn't be long before Avalanche took the blame for yet another misfortune. Smiling, he said to himself, "I suppose the world isn't so different after all."

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He didn't want the girl in his village. Nobody did. Nobody except that fool and that useless bird that had found her. She had no purpose but to cry and to ache and to ask questions, so many questions. Her hand was broken, making her even more useless. He, like everyone else, wanted her sent back to the desert to rot.