Reno: HOORAI! Happy day!
Reeve: Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Reno: But I'm alive!
Reeve: Much to my chagrin.
Reno: Tell you what. Since I'm indestructable and Tyramir doesn't want to kill me off, I'll let you shoot me.
::Reeve pulls a gun and shoots Reno::
Reno: Ow! You were supposed to wait until... oh hell... I'm bleeding...
Reeve: Good.
Reno: I was supposed to cast a Protect spell first.
Reeve: Oops. Oh well. Guess you'll just die.
Reno: ... I will be avenged.
Reeve: Right. Whatever. Tyramir doesn't own the rights to Final Fantasy or any of its characters.
Champions
The silvery sword in Rude's hand struck down, aiming directly for Cloud's head. Reacting without thinking, Cloud parried the blow with the spear as if it were a sword, wincing at the way the weapon jolted in his hands. Venus Gospel was a powerful weapon, but it wasn't made to be wielded like a sword.
The Soldier washout distanced himself from Rude, backing away slowly, holding the spear at the ready. Something was going on, but he didn't know what. Why was Rude attacking him? Because he was Jenova's champion. But why him? How? Could Jenova control people without any of her DNA in them? And if so, why Rude? Why not Tifa, or Barret, or Vincent, or someone else from Avalanche, someone closer to him?
Rude lunged awkwardly, and the spear became a blur in Cloud's hands, striking the sword away and sending a counter attack with the butt of the weapon into the Turk's ribs. The man clutched at his side and danced back.
How stupid could Jenova be in picking this particular person? Cloud didn't want to kill Rude, but on some level, he did want to hurt him a little bit. Despite his feelings for Aeris, he still felt a little possessive over Tifa.
He shook his head. His feelings for Aeris? He had never really put that into words before, but now that he had said it in his mind...
The silvery sword came down, slashing at Cloud's head. He was brought out of his thoughts as he swung Venus Gospel gracelessly to parry, then brought the other end in another counter attack, clipping the side of Rude's head, knocking his sunglasses off. Cloud readied himself for another follow up, but then stopped, looking directly into Rude's glowing amber eyes. Mako eyes.
So, that was it. Somewhere along the line, Rude had been in Soldier. And was now being controlled by Jenova. It all made sense now. He dimly recalled Vincent saying something about Rude being infected by the Jenova virus, and the way Rude had stood up straighter, almost shocked. But why hadn't he been told? He wasn't surprised that Vincent knew. That man seemed to know things he had no right to, and kept too many secrets to himself. Cloud understood and respected that, but surely Tifa must have known, too. Rude couldn't wear those sunglasses all the time, not while alone with her. He had always thought it odd that Rude wore those sunglasses all the time, and remembered commenting on it once... Red XIII had just shrugged it off, saying it was a personal quirk of Rude's. He frowned. Could Red have known all along, too?
He didn't have time to think about it any further. Rude sent another attack his way, and Cloud was forced to fight defensively, giving ground. He refused to hurt Rude, despite how much he disliked the man.
He glanced at the sword and frowned. It seemed familiar. He remembered wielding a very similar blade to that one, when he was in Wutai, after Yuffie had stolen his Materia. Murasame? It couldn't be. The blade he had wielded was just a replica, still a remarkably good blade, but it had just been something for him to ... He almost slapped his forehead. A replica. If the Mursame he had used had been a replica, then this was probably the real thing.
"Rude, you have to snap out of this! I don't want to hurt you!"
"Liar!" the Turk yelled. "You will always judge me. Always. I'm just a killer to you, when you were no better. You sit in judgement on me, and condemn me, and you think that gives you the right to hurt me. You want Tifa for yourself."
"No... she's my friend, and that's all. I love her like a sister."
Rude's face twisted, turning into something not resembling human. "She wants you. Not me. I'm just her sustitute. Just the guy who made it into Soldier. She'll always love you first."
"No. That's not true. She has genuine feelings for you. Do you really think Tifa is only with you because she imagines that you're me?"
"Don't listen to him," came a new voice. "He only lies so that he can steal from you."
Cloud looked past Rude to the hole in the side of the crumpled remains of the Highwind. Floating through was a constantly changing mass of flesh, tentacles hanging from its sides, touching everything, taking in all detail of its surroundings. Wrapped in its wirey arms were four shapes. Sephiroth. Vincent. Rufus. Aeris.
Cloud's eyes narrowed in anger.
He had to get around Rude somehow. He would not lose Aeris again.
Sending a flurry of blows at Rude, Cloud increasingly began to notice how flawed Rude's technique was. The Turk may have been a master of the martial arts, an expert with Materia, and unparalleled at espionage, but when it came to sword-play, he was lacking. More, as Cloud pressed on, he noticed that Rude was conflicted. A part of him obviously didn't want to fight this battle.
But Rude still had one edge that Cloud did not. Jenova's words taunted him.
"You're not strong enough, Cloud. You're weak. A failure. No one wants you. You will lose all you hold dear."
He tried to ignore the words, but they struck at him. He tried to focus, tried to keep his mind on the battle, of spinning the spear about, the way he had seen Cid do so many times.
But more than Jenova's words hit him.
"I'm afraid you don't have what it takes to be in Soldier." A scientist, what seemed a life time ago, had said.
"...You are a puppet." Sephiroth.
"You can't. You're too weak." Aeris.
He gave up more ground, slowly being pushed back. His stance became entirely defensive, and Rude's attacks became more frenzied, more frantic. Cloud saw openings, but didn't take them, afraid that they were too much of a risk, unsure of his own abilities.
"Cloud..." The voice was faint, weak, but still there. Aeris. He looked up, and saw her moving faintly, held securely in Jenova's grasp.
There was no thought. No uncertainty. Just a sudden blaze of attacks as Venus Gospel rushed forward, striking Rude with both blunt and sharp end, pummeling and stabbing him, sending him staggering back. None of the wounds were fatal, merely disabling, and in seconds, the Turk fell to the ground, no longer able to stand.
"Rude!" The horror, the naked fear in Tifa's voice as she rushed into the ruins of the Highwind hit Cloud like a blow. He looked up, and saw Tifa, followed by Reno.
"Shit, Strife's lost it!" Reno exclaimed.
"No... I..." Cloud said, looking down at the weapon in his hands, the bladed end covered in Rude's blood. "He's being controlled by Jenova. I--"
He was cut off as one of Jenova's tentacles lashed out, striking Tifa down. Another whipped about, taking Reno full in the chest, sending the Turk flying away. As Reno was sent hurtling away, something green flew through the air, directly at Cloud. He caught it, examining it quickly. Magic Materia, but what kind? He began to call on the spell, and looked for an expendable target to cast it on. Rufus' limp form hanging in Jenova's arms seemed a good choice. Drawing on only a small amount of power from the Materia, he sent the wave of energy at Rufus, and then was slightly relieved when the President of Shinra began to move slightly, groaning in pain. A Cure Materia.
"Tifa..?" came Rude's groan.
"Jenova hurt her, Rude. I'm not sure if she's alive or not." The lie didn't bother Cloud at all. He knew that blow probably only knocked Tifa senseless, but nothing more than that. But he needed Rude on his side.
"What?"
"Jenova, the voice in your head, she hurt Tifa. She may have killed Tifa."
Rude's eyes widened in panic, and uncertainty. "Tifa?"
"If I cure you, will you help me fight Jenova? Can you resist her?"
Rude's jaw clenched, and anger filled his eyes. "For Tifa, I'll kill that thing myself."
"Good." Cloud held up the Cure Materia, and a green glow surrounded him, bathing the Turk in the warm light. Rude's body arched, and he gasped for breath.
"What are you doing?" Jenova asked, Lucrecia's voice coming through. WIth a startling realization, it came to Cloud that Jenova still wasn't in complete control of her host. She was still prone to bursts of anger and rage, to throwing temper tantrums.
She was too far away to surprise easily. And those tentacles of hers would provide an excellent defense against anyone who would try to rush her. He racked his brain, trying to think of a plan to defeat Jenova.
Cid grunted, then rolled his spear across his shoulders, deftly turning it about, end over end, until it landed in his hand. He held it up. "This is an unbelievably fine weapon. Perfectly balanced, excellent for throwing, and damn good for close combat."
Cloud gripped Venus Gospel, and nodded to Rude. The Turk also tipped his head, understanding Cloud's plan. The Turk stood up, gripping Murasame in his hand, as if preparing to strike at Cloud.
"You fool!" Jenova said. "Did you think by healing my champion that he would come to your side?"
He ignored the words, changing the way he held the spear. He turned around, and in a single motion, threw Venus Gospel directly at Jenova. Directly after it, spinning through the air, followed Murasame. The spear took her where her heart should have been, and the sword sunk solidly into her throat. Her tantacles began to flail about, releasing all her prisoners, save one. More tentacles lashed out, grabbing firmly onto Sephiroth. She screamed his name in pain, and slowly, green energy began to flow from her tentacles, and into her son.
"Remember!" she cried, "Sephiroth! Protect me!"
Author's Note:
All right. We're almost done this story, and I'll be kind of sad to see it finished.