All usual disclaimers applicable.
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Xehorista Tora
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Chapter Seven
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Lost, it slowly went away,
Was gone without a trace.
I'm tired and I can't remember.
Lost, I thought it came to stay
And put me in my place,
I'm tired and I won't remember.
- Skold, "Remember"
---- ----
There was nothing human left in bone village. The humans who used to live there, digging through the dirt in vain attempts to discover the secrets of the past had long since fled, and the few that had stayed were no longer anything resembling human.
They hadn't been doing much of value anyway. She'd absorbed their memories when they became part of her, one of her mindless drones, and they'd barely begun to scratch the surface of what the Cetra were, what the artifacts they'd been digging up meant.
//Worthless little drones.//
Not like her son. Her son was strong and proud and beautiful and she was so happy to have him home again. She was a part of her son, and no matter how much his mind beat at the walls of his cage, she knew best.
//Mineminemineminemine.//
Sephiroth was hers, not completely, but close enough. The mako in him reeked of them, of the Cetra -
//Hate them. Hate them, green and glowing and they hurt and hate them.//
- and it still burned her when she got too close, to his heart or his mind. But she had enough of herself in him that she could hold onto his body, hold him close to her and sometimes she could forget that they weren't one.
/...you're insane..let me go..bitch../
The voice rose from within the body, from the mind that was still Sephiroth, and Jenova smiled at his weak defiance.
//Mine. /My/ son.//
He hated the possessives, she knew. He hated them because he'd lived so long without them, that those few years, entrenched in the war though they were, seemed almost like some hazy memory of paradise; of blue skies and clear waters.
/...fucking bitch../
//Mine. Always mine. Not even he can take you from me.//
Jenova loved him so much that it was almost its own form of hatred, a strange emotion that twisted and writhed like so many poisonous snakes.
She loved him, and she hated so much because of it. She hated the color green, because it was them, it was the Cetra and the lifestream, glowing with a power that hers could not yet equal. Her green, the girl, the last.
//But I know...I know, I know, and they don't, they don't know...//
She'd been reminded of the fact that their strength was beyond hers when she'd felt the lifestream flare up impossibly bright a day ago, its full force brought to bear by the last Cetra.
It had receded, but she'd felt something new when it did, something new and so familiar, so much like home that she knew they'd somehow brought her son back, /again/.
Except it wasn't really possible. They could make as many bodies as they wanted, but there was only one soul, only one original, and it was /hers/. Everything in her screamed that it couldn't happen, couldn't be.
But she'd felt him, and he'd felt real. This was some strange new power of the Cetra, and suddenly the hate burned in her again, erasing her calm countenance that she wore as she strategized.
Hate. She hated knowing that even now /they/ were still stronger than she was, they still had what she could only grasp at, and shudder in rage as it burned her hand when she dared to touch it, holding on until she had to pull back, and all that was left was the cold.
Cold. Her son was cold, to everyone, to her, and she couldn't stand the cold silence her son gave her, after all she was doing for him, after how much she loved him.
//I'm doing this for you, for you, all for you, and why can't you see, my son? Why can't you see what I'm building here, for you?//
From Sephiroth, there was no answer, and the rage burned in her again, because they'd done this to him, they were keeping him from her, even now, and she couldn't do anything about it. He wouldn't even admit he was her son, and his words of strong, frantic denial hurt her more than she would have thought possible. She hadn't thought she had the capacity for that sort of pain.
But when he'd yelled those words at her, the strongest his thoughts had ever been, that Lucretia was his mother, and she was some 'alien fucking bitch' everything had hurt, so hard and sharp that she hadn't known what it was at first, what was going on.
Hojo had said to her that she'd have to be careful, that she could feel when she was so close to someone real, but she hadn't expected his words to understate the intensity of the emotion that she felt to the degree that they did.
It was so cold, this close to the crater, to her home. She come here, from a place so far away that she could not remember it, only the long expanse of travel through the void of space, where everything was cold.
She'd always been cold, and when she came here she sought warmth. She'd watched them, the Cetra who came to heal the wound she had made, and modeled her form after theirs, after the ones who had burned so brightly when the lifestream took them.
They must have been so warm, so happy as they slipped into that endless green. Watching from afar, more force than form, Jenova knew she'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted that warmth.
But when she came to them, wearing the faces of those who were in that promised warmth, the Cetra had shuddered away from her, hate and fear in their eyes. They'd called the lifestream out of the earth, a shimmering wall of green, and she wanted to welcome it, held out her arms to welcome that warmth.
Those moments were so long ago, millennia and more, but she stilled remembered every instant of what happened next. The lifestream /burned/ at her, as cold as ice and as hot as the fire in the hearts of the stars she'd passed in her flight through space. She'd recoiled from it, but they had pursued her, and they had called great monsters from the earth, and all her touch had brought was death, and she knew they hated her as they sealed her in the cold rocks of the earth, far from all heat and light.
It had taken her years of existence in that darkness to realize that she hated it too. She waited in the earth, and grew as a disease grows, as a plague. She knew she'd be free, and then she'd take all that they wouldn't give her an age ago.
She'd consume them all, take over the lifestream that burned her even now, but she was stronger now, strong enough to stand against the pain and hold it inside her.
She was stronger now, she would be stronger now, and the lifestream was weaker, weakened by the foolish humans who were fighting to stave off her coming.
She'd take them too, take everything until the moon turned red as blood and the stars feel from the sky like so many chips of broken glass. She'd even drain the color out of the sky, that damnable blue that reminded her son so much of the failure, the reject of
Hojo's that Sephiroth loved.
He shouldn't love anyone but her.
//Should I take him too, my son? Should I take him, so that you can be with him, with me, forever and ever and ever...//
Horror washed over her from the corner of the mind that was still only him, horror turning into a slow, sick rage.
/I'll kill you...kill you bitch...never find all the pieces.../
His voice faded in and out like a dying cry from the planet. He was so hard to hear, sometimes, so withdrawn and alone.
But he had her, and she loved him, and soon she'd take the failure, and her son's friend who still reeked of the lifestream, like her son had, of a spirit still fresh from its green flow.
And she'd take this /other/, this other than felt like her son but couldn't be.
She'd take them all, and they'd all be a part of her, and forget that they ever were anything else.
----
Sephiroth wasn't dead, but he knew he was in hell.
If he hadn't been dead before - well, technically, he'd been dead twice before, but he didn't really care to count - he'd think that he was dead now, was dead and stuck in some infernal torture of the damned, forced to spend all eternity trapped in a corner of his head while his body moved like some awful puppet and the full force of Jenova pushed at him at all times, so strong he could barely hear himself think sometimes.
He was walled off, protected by the green fire of the mako in his blood, and the barrier distanced him from Jenova. He could barely reach her, although she, her presence so much stronger than his, broadcast her every thought and feeling.
And Jenova /felt/. She felt everything in extremes, so strongly that it hurt even through the barrier.
She couldn't feel what he felt, he knew that, unless he sent his thoughts to her, pushed them through the barrier powered by mako and the Cetra. It was one of his small amusements - one of his only amusements - to push feelings and thoughts at her that he knew would hurt her, if she was indeed capable of hurting.
Thoughts like the fact that he hated her, hated her so much he could barely remember a time when he'd hated anything so much. Or the fact that he wasn't her son, she wasn't his mother, his mother was real and human.
Even dead, Lucretia was so much more of a mother to him than this beast.
The thoughts that hurt her most of all were the thoughts that had love in them; love attached to other people. It let Jenova know he was capable of love, just not directed toward her.
He'd sent thoughts like those towards her when she'd made his body fight Cloud.
//She made me...made me fight him, and I swore, I swore I'd never hurt him again...and she /made me/...//
The hatred and rage he felt over that had barely begun to fade. That she'd taken him and made him fight Cloud, when he'd promised the blond that he'd never do anything like that again. That Cloud would never have to fight Sephiroth again, and see the blood of someone he cared about, someone he'd loved since his days at Shinra, on his blade.
She hated the fact that he loved Cloud, that he'd gotten closer to Cloud in the four years he'd been back than he'd ever been to anyone; even closer than he'd been to Zack.
It had been hard, despite their years of friendship in Shinra, years with feelings that had run far deeper than friendship, for Cloud to overcome himself and everything that had happened between them, in those years that Sephiroth knew he was not responsible for, and yet still carried all the blame. It had been almost as hard for Sephiroth to overcome his own shields and defenses. In some way, he'd been forced to finally grow up, strange as it sounded, forced to deal with the world instead of holding himself apart from it.
But after that period where they broke down their walls and rebuilt them, but different this time, not lower but with more doors; after that, things had been better than he would have imagined possible. The war was turning their way, with the three of them fighting, and he could almost imagine an after, an ending where there was happiness and peace.
And Jenova had taken those almost-dreams and shattered them into so many pieces that Sephiroth wasn't sure he'd ever be able to pick them all up again.
His body moved through the camp Jenova and Hojo had erected in what used to be Bone Village, leaving his mind free to wander. To remember, even though it hurt.
Remember:
//Before death and rebirth, before Meteor, before everything: remember a time so long ago it doesn't seem real, doesn't seem like it could be real. Zack and Cloud: the former tried in battle, the latter too young to have even lifted a sword against an enemy with intent to kill. So old, so young, so young because everyone seemed younger than him then, because he'd seen so much, and so blind to what everyone else had lived through, what everyone else saw.
So blind to everything, and he never thought to look, thought to realize what he was missing.
But then, it was the three of them, and Zack was talking to loudly and Cloud was blushing, a faint tinge of red plastered across his cheeks as he weekly protested so of Zack's rather lewd suggestions.
And because he could, because he wanted to, because no one was looking, Sephiroth let himself smile.//
The memory faded and the cold reality rushed it, sharp and cruel. Jenova was still controlling him, moving him, and although he knew he couldn't feel the wind and the air, everything still felt so cold.
A voice, sibilant as a snake and just as treacherous, rose from behind him, and Sephiroth felt himself shudder in his green-walled corner, and cursed himself for that reaction, that even now the man could startle him so.
"The ranks await your command, Sephiroth."
Hojo hadn't changed as much as Sephiroth had expected him to. He was as much a monster now as he'd been before, but he still looked like the strange, apathetic scientist that had reigned over so much of Sephiroth's life.
But he was /different/, even if he hadn't /changed/. The man had always been sadistic and psychotic, and while those traits were perhaps more pronounced now that he had given them free reign, they'd always been there. He looked so normal now, though, standing in the midst of so much barely controlled frenzy that it was almost incongruous.
But even though his shape was human, something unreal danced in Hojo's eyes, and the dark iris had long since swallowed the white around it, turning the entire eye black. Sephiroth wondered if he could still see, or if it even mattered to the doctor.
He didn't want to know what the doctor did when he got bored.
Hojo always called him Sephiroth, and he somehow made the made the name seem wrong, because it was him saying it. Anyone calling him Sephiroth now, when he so obviously wasn't, would be wrong and strange, but somehow it was worse when Hojo said it.
Even Cloud had never called him Sephiroth after he'd been taken, not even in their one fight, after Sephiroth had wounded him and his eyes had screamed 'not again.' Even then, the name he spat out had been Jenova's and Sephiroth had been relieved, incredibly happy, because it meant Cloud didn't blame him. He'd been forgiven by Cloud, even for the things he'd yet to do.
And belatedly, he realized Hojo was still talking, and Jenova was listening intently to the scientist.
"...The lifestream has been successful in bringing the two past replicas back. Interestingly, this did not result in the expected time paradox and annihilation of said replicas as soon as they entered our time stream.." Hojo laughed, long and low, an evil, malicious sound.
"So, since they're still active in this time, they're viable specimens for whoever gets them first."
The man wore no glasses anymore, but light shone off the mass of darkness in his eyes with the same disturbing effect.
"As I said, your ranks await your command, Sephiroth."
Panic set in then, at Hojo's calm statement, at the sea of assembled monsters. He knew he had to warn them all, before he watched everything break apart.
----
"And Kisaragi's requested that Cid - or one of his lackeys - give her transport back to Midgar. She's left her second in charge of the Wutain troops, with Godo still acting as official head."
Reeve nodded at the woman who sat across the small table, her blond hair pinned tightly, sensibly back and dressed in regulation field gear; the fact that the pants and shirt were clean made them look like parade material compared to what the rest of the troops wore. Still, it was a far cry from the red dresses that Scarlet of Shinra had once been known for.
The war had changed everyone, Reeve knew. To some it came naturally: Yuffie had grown into her responsibilities as easily as breathing; while others had to be forced: Vincent had rejected both offers of high rank and Turk leadership for so long that Zack still called him an ex-Turk sometimes.
Sometimes, though, he couldn't help but think that Scarlet had changed more than any of them. The woman had entered the war as arrogant and cruel as she'd been before it, still vying for the top spot in the company, although throwing her whole into the war effort all the same. He wondered how much of that was selfish; Reeve was sure that Scarlet had no desire to become part of Jenova's fold.
Her attitude had changed during one of Jenova's first large assaults, her direct attack on Junon. At that time, so early in, they'd only had Cloud and the rest of Avalanche and the Turks, and everyone was fighting, staging desperate warfare to try to keep one of the only strongholds they had except for Midgar, and the only fort that bordered on the water.
It almost seemed a miracle that, by the end of the battle, the only death was Heidegger's.
//Still not sure if anyone was really sorry to see him go.//
The large, almost brutish man wasn't very missed, unsurprising considering how inefficient and boorish he'd been, and how well Scarlet had taken over his division as well as her own.
The battle had changed Scarlet too. During it, one of Hojo's more unpleasant creations had managed to rake her face and torso. She'd been in the Infirmary for nearly two weeks, and the scars that marred her face and shoulders had never faded. Reeve doubted they ever would. The woman had come close to losing an eye, as well, but he couldn't help but think that the near-maiming was something of a blessing in disguise.
Since the incident, years ago now, the woman had changed completely. She was still as caustic and callous, but she was no longer cruel, and had been humbled by what she no doubt regarded as the loss of her beauty.
Scarlet was a woman possessed, driven not to accelerate through the ranks of Shinra but to defeat Jenova. And Hojo. The 'I hate Hojo' line grew longer by the day, hell, by the second.
It was strange, that as Scarlet had abandoned her pursuit of power, she'd received it. Reeve never forgot how strange this partnership between the two of them was, even unnatural in some sense, when they'd hated each other so fiercely in Shinra, years ago.
//Murderous rumors in the hallways, that company was like a battleground, but we never knew what true war could be then, and we were so stupid, fighting against each other.//
No one had known then, in what he'd heard Reno refer to as their 'halcyon days of youth,' (something he'd remembered because he'd been surprised the Turk knew the word, but then again, he was sure Reno enjoyed making people believe he was stupid) how bad things could get.
"What's her ETA?"
Scarlet flipped through several papers in her ever present stack of folders. Reeve could hardly remember seeing the woman without folders and a gun on her at all times.
"Highwind's still based at Junon, helping ferry researchers back and forth, so he won't be picking her up personally. He's contacted one of his lackeys out at the Rocket town airfields to pick her up. According to reports, they left several hours ago, so Kisaragi should arrive in Midgar in the morning."
Reeve nodded. Rocket town had become something of the base of air operations. The level plains were easy to evacuate if required, and made for an ideal airfield. Cid still commanded the Highwind, even though he technically oversaw all air operations. His wife, Shera, was one of the researchers at Junon, although the entire Junon team spent half their time at Midgar, and vice versa. He knew that Tabitha was due to go the harbor city soon.
Scarlet moved a strand of hair out of her face, back in to the practical bun, and Reeve couldn't help but wonder if he'd start seeing gray in those blond strands. The woman had been in Shinra longer than almost any of them now. While she wasn't old, this war tore at people, wore them thin.
A part of him was surprised that no one had broken apart yet. He'd thought Cloud would have, with everything life and time seemed determined to put him through, but the blond fighter appeared to have vast reserves of coping mechanism.
//Bullshit. Cloud doesn't cope, he /buries/. Everything he feels that's wrong he just buries deep inside. Why do you think Zack and Tifa never let him brood?//
"I've received reports from Wallace, out in North Corel. They haven't sustained any major attacks since the one the trio put down, but he does say that the miners there have noticed that the mako levels are lower than they've recorded."
That caught Reeve's attention. Anything out of the ordinary was possibly something that could later get you killed. Nothing could be overlooked.
"Lower? Is that a possible aftershock from the events that Aeris directed - the common memory and the past?"
A shake of the head, slight but sure, as the woman flipped through her files to pull out a graph. She slid it across the table to Reeve - a representation of the mako readings in the North Corel caves over the past three days. The line was fairly constant, small fluctuations not affecting the overall reading. Early yesterday there was a sharp rise , followed by a sharp drop, which returned to the normal level after less than an hour. The lifestream had stabilized itself after Cloud and his two inadvertent passengers had returned to the present time frame, out of the lifestream's communal memory that had transported Cloud to the past. There was a period of normalcy in the graph, but sharply following it the lifestream had dipped down, a sharp decline that caused nothing but worry, with no explanation.
"Does Mideel corroborate this?
"Not only Mideel, but Dr. Tabitha's given me reports from Cosmo Canyon, Wutai, and Nibelheim that all agree on this strange dip. I've asked her up to meet with us, she should be here shortly." The woman glanced at her watch. "Immediately, in fact."
Reeve ran a hand through hair that was already ruffled and uncombed. "And Yuffie's found some urgent reason to be in Midgar."
"She does have the only functional Knights of the Round summon, after all. If the shit is moving toward the fan, it's better that Kisaragi's here to enjoy it."
"For whatever good she can get out of that summon, with the lifestream strained as it is." As Jenova infiltrated the lifestream the power of materia began to dim. Not the magic materia, as those drew more from the caster than the planet, but the summons that must reside in the lifestream themselves had been growing fainter and fainter as the war progressed. And they, the raw forces inside the planet, died.
They'd expected it, to a certain degree, but parts of the phenomenon were still completely inexplicable. Like why Leviathan - which Yuffie had given back to Godo - was as strong as ever, but Hades would barely poison an enemy anymore. Or why the first incarnation of the Bahamut series had grown /stronger/, of all things, but the later two had grown to be pale shadows, hardly doing any damage.
Knights of the Round had been the strongest summon, but it had been nearly a year since Yuffie had cast it, and Reeve wondered if it was at all effective anymore. Things weathered, after time. Nothing stayed the same anymore, in this war. Everything grew old and rusted, a faded and sickly shade of what used to be.
Things fell apart, and you tried to pick up the pieces as best you could, even though they were sharps fragments, the memories of what used to be, and they cut your hands.
Clouds hands hadn't stopped bleeding since before Jenova. Vincent, Zack, everyone had blood on their hands, and so much of it wasn't their own, but so much of it was.
Scarlet's voice pulled him out of his reverie. "We don't have any real data on how the summons work, or how they've been affected in the war. We have results, and effects, but no causes."
Knocking followed her comment, and the door swung open without waiting for permission from those inside. Dr. Tabitha entered the room, the garish color of her lab coat set off by the light streaming in from the windows, the sun high overhead. It was nearly noon.
The scientist had her glasses on, and her eyes held the strained look of one who had spent too many hours reading files. She carried several of these files with her, under one arm. Her hair was pulled up tightly, but several strands escaped, giving the head of the science department an altogether disheveled appearance.
She stopped before the table and pulled her glasses off and tucked them into the front pocket of her lab coat in one motion. She began to make motions to smooth out the wrinkles in the loose fabric, then stopped, and muttering something that could only be "fuck it" sat down.
"Reeve, Scarlet; I apologize for being late."
Scarlet waved it off. "You're all of two minutes late. Besides, it's given me time to explain the mako readings to our president here."
At that, Tabitha immediately began flipping through more folders, searching for a file of some sort. "I have more information regarding that, although it's not conclusive enough yet to decide anything. I wish we still had Icicle Inn, or Bone Village...their labs were so much closer to the crater then the one we've set up...Here it is!"
The doctor wrestled two sheets of paper clear of the folders. "We've gathered this data from the lab we've set up in the materia cave north of North Corel, one of the several Avalanche found during Meteor."
She slid the paper across the table to them, the clear overlay fluttering up.
"The first graph - the one on the white paper - is of the mako recordings. You notice the spike and subsequent recession is an exact duplicate of the readings found in the other labs."
Reeve nodded. "And the second sheet?"
"The second sheet is a printout of the percentage of impurities of the lifestream as recorded and graphed over the same time interval. In layman's terms, this is a graph of the presence of Jenova in the lifestream."
The black line on the clear sheet suddenly seemed murderous, shifting and ready to strike, like a snake poised to bite.
"As you can see, the readings indicate a normal level of Jenova in the lifestream...until the Cetra's collective memory incident. After that, she's begun to drop off, reaching a lower concentration in the lifestream than we've recorded for nearly two years."
The graph was easy enough to decipher, even without the doctor's explanation. The two lines almost moved in sync, leveling and then dropping off in near unison. It was inexplicable and disturbing.
Tabitha paused, as if to consider whether or not to continue, and then sighed, her decision apparently made.
"Normally, we'd except a decrease in Jenova to be marked by an upsurgence of lifestream, or an increase in Jenova to be marked by a decrease of lifestream. The fact that they both decrease is unlike anything we've ever seen. Either they're both in some sort of harm, the cause of which I cannot explain, or they're both deliberately pulling back their forces from the front. A détente or sorts, if you would, except they're hiding their bombs instead of destroying them, I'm sure."
Scarlet spoke up, the woman's mind racing across strategies and counter-strategies, vulnerable spots in their defense, places where they could be hurt.
"Pulling back their forces for what?"
Tabitha rubbed the bridge of her nose, between her eyes. "At this point, I can only speculate. I'm going to take my readings and my speculations to Cloud after this meeting is over, but /I/ believe that Jenova is mustering an attack, and the lifestream is marshalling its forces in order to fight her."
Scarlet nodded imperceptibly, as if she'd thought as much. "Do you have anything to back this up, Doctor?"
"Jenova drops off first, doesn't she?" Reeve had been quietly staring at the graph at its insidious overlay, and he spoke now, startling them both.
"Yes. She does. She drops her presence first, and the lifestream follows quickly after. There's a time delay of approximately sixteen minutes between the two drops."
Reeve lowered his eyes, as if in pain. In truth, it was pain, a different kind of pain. Nobody...nobody in this war got anything that resembled rest, and none of them ever would.
He knew it, he'd known it for a long time, but even old truths hurt sometimes.
"She's pulling back first. She's pulling back, and pooling her power, and she's going to attack."
Tabitha nodded. "That's what I believe, at any rate. Why now, is the question? She had to be hurting after the lifestream flared up briefly during Cloud's little trip, but for her to pull back so suddenly and gather her forces...why now?"
"Sephiroth." Scarlet's voice rang out into the calm that followed Tabitha's question.
"Sephiroth? What does he have to do with it?" Reeve queried, trying to keep a petulant tone from coloring his voice.
//I can't afford not to understand anything, and right now I don't understand everything!//
A hint of a brilliant, almost maniacal, gleam appeared in Scarlet's eyes. It was something familiar but nearly forgotten, something Reeve hadn't seen in a long time, since before the battle at Junon.
It was altogether surprising but somehow comforting; reaffirmation of the fact that while Scarlet may have bent, she wasn't anything close to broken.
"I don't know how Jenova thinks. But I know Hojo, and Hojo's always been obsessed with one thing. Sephiroth. And I think Jenova's always been obsessed with him too."
"But to risk so much on a full frontal assault on us...it doesn't make any sense, especially considering the fact that we have the past Zack and Sephiroth here, who I'm sure will fight if it comes down to it."
The gleam in Scarlet's eye only strengthened at Tabitha's protest, and Reeve almost expected her to laugh out loud, high and sharp.
"So you think she's sensed them two! So glad to have everyone's agreement."
Reeve realized that he was starting to understand what Scarlet was thinking, and the fact that he was starting to comprehend how Scarlet thought was frightening enough, let alone the actual conjectures such understanding brought.
"You think she's coming here for the past Sephiroth."
Scarlet nodded slightly. "Yes and no. I think that she's been planning to come here all along, but the fact that Cloud has brought back Sephiroth has only made her want to come here now. If you think about it, who's stronger, Cloud or Sephiroth?" Scarlet looked to Reeve.
"I'm not sure...I mean, yes, Cloud defeated Sephiroth, but he wasn't really him when we fought him during Meteor. They've sparred, I know, but I don't think they've really gone against each other. They were very close, after all."
Scarlet overrode that last comment, but then again, now one talked about Cloud and Sephiroth's relationship, although whether out of embarrassment or for Cloud's sake Reeve was never quite sure.
"But still, I've always wondered, why didn't Jenova go for Cloud? She'd probably consider Cloud to be stronger, which is a fair enough thought, and Cloud's done her far more wrong than Sephiroth. She had every reason to take Cloud, but instead she takes Sephiroth. I'm not buying that crap Cloud told us about 'Sephiroth was too close'. She took him because she's obsessed, as crazed over him as Hojo is. And she's going to come now to get this Sephiroth, because she's that fucked up. The question is, can she? Doctor?"
Tabitha tensed slightly, as if Scarlet had surprised her with her sudden attention. "Can she? Honestly, no. She takes active possession of the body, after all, and she can't do that with two people. Her attention would be split between two people and they would be able to break free."
//Thank god for that.// Of course, Reeve had only started to relax when Tabitha added a side note:
"At least, I think so."
"Wait, you don't know?"
"Scarlet, Jenova is a foreign entity. She's not human, and doesn't function like a human in any way. Everything I know about her is either scraped from Gast and Hojo's notes or pure conjecture - and if you want some hellish fun, try deciphering the 'good doctor's' notes. He's not only mad, he's close to illiterate, I swear...Anyway, the labs can't give me much concrete data, so I don't have a lot to go on. But considering the number of times that Cloud has gone into the field and yet has not been possessed, it's fairly safe to assume that she is incapable of possessing two people at once. Then again, it's also fairly safe to assume she's incapable of possessing anyone but Sephiroth, although I very highly doubt it. Hojo did much of the same to the both of them."
Reeve sighed. "So he's as safe as he can be."
"He's dangerous, Reeve. He's as safe as he's going to be, know that he knows the truth, and if he does go mad, his skills, while great, are still something Cloud can defeat. He doesn't have this war to sharpen him like the other Sephiroth has."
Scarlet shook her head, worry and thought narrowing her eyes. "Don't write off Sephiroth. None of us has ever seen him go all out. I think Jenova restricted him during Meteor, and I think she probably does the same now."
"Still, Scarlet, it doesn't change the fact that they're unknowns, variables we can hardly afford. We should prepare for what will likely be an assault, and will likely come soon, but we should watch them as well."
Slumping back in his chair, Reeve sighed. "We'll do what we have to. It's all we can do."
----
If Reno had his way, he'd take a gun to this new Sephiroth's head, and damn the consequences.
It wasn't personal dislike, not by any means. He'd known Sephiroth well enough during his days at Shinra, and the man had been cold and distant, but polite enough, even if the politeness masked a sense of barely constrained power and fury.
Sephiroth had always felt angry then, so tightly wound that Reno wondered if he ever took the damned stick out of his ass. But beneath the tight control, there'd always been a sense of anger, rage at the world and himself.
Sephiroth had always had something to prove to the world, and Reno had always found it funny that the man had thought he hid it so well from everyone.
//Fucking hilarious, actually. The anal ones always think they're so good at hiding /everything/.//
Then again, everything was hilarious when you were as drunk as Reno had been when he'd first realized this, drunk enough to consider going up to Sephiroth and asking if he just shoved the damned Masamune up his ass and decided to hell with the stick.
He was almost tempted to ask the question to the man who walked in front of them now, all cold rage and masked fury.
//And still possessing a giant stick shoved so far up his...//
It was a strange sort of juxtaposition, how different the Sephiroth that Reno had known during the war was from this Sephiroth, still so cold, but somehow weaker for it. Younger, and more fragile. Sephiroth had changed so much that it was almost unnerving. They'd picked Zackery up on the way down to one of the main training areas, where Strife was likely waiting with the boss and probably with Zack, if only because Zack seemed to be wherever Cloud was, these days.
It was unnerving to see just how much Zack /hadn't/ changed. Oh sure, there were subtle differences - the Zack Reno knew was colder, stronger, and there was something harsher in his eyes, but underneath the thin veneer was something that was still essentially, intrinsically Zack.
The past Zack had suspicion in his eyes, and a wary way of walking, but he was still very much like the Zack that Reno knew.
Zack had gone through a lot; Reno knew he had no real idea of what those five years with Hojo had been like, or what the SOLDIER had suffered afterward, being dead and coming back and fighting so long in the war, but somehow he was still just as much Zack as this past incarnation.
Maybe some people didn't have to change. It was almost disturbing to think that could be true.
Sephiroth even /walked/ differently. The past moved through the hallways of Shinra with a blind and utterly stupid confidence that the present Sephiroth had been too experienced to allow.
//Still thinks he's untouchable...I wonder if anyone's told him how susceptible he is to the 'lower' emotions...//
He doubted somehow that the lovely little file the higher-ups and the Doc had decided to bestow upon Sephiroth had included the details of his future (and at this point past, depending on how you looked at it) relationship with Strife.
Reno would love to be the one to tell him, just to see the expression he'd come up with. Although, if this Sephiroth was any good he'd be able to hide it fairly well, but there was always hope, after all. Everyone had to have hope.
Still, if he did do that, there was a great chance that Zack would try very hard to beat the living daylights out of him. Probably claim he was inflicting 'emotional trauma on Cloud's wounded mind.' As Doc had told him once. Reno figured that was her way of telling him to shut up before he made Strife go psycho on them.
Strife hadn't done it yet, but sometimes Reno couldn't help but wonder how he'd resisted for so long.
//By the planet, /I/ feel like going AWOL half the time.//
A part of Reno wanted to assert that Strife must be made of stronger stuff, but the practical (or as Rude and Elena called it, his asshole side) assured him that Strife was simply too damned stubborn to break.
Reno was stubborn, but he knew he had a different breed of obstinate running through him. Strife was like a wall of stone, or ice. Reno liked to think of himself as a more flexible kind of stubborn - like water, rushing through with speed and power.
Subtle and tenancious. And suave at the same time. Because he was just /that/ good.
Right.
They'd reached the training halls, large rooms of padded mats that always, no matter how many times the cleaning crew came in, smelled of sweat and exhaustion. They were large complexes, newly rebuilt after they'd been partially destroyed in Meteor. Reno remembered from before Meteor, and either they'd had the same architect or they'd been sharing notes, because the new version was almost exactly the same as the old one.
Sephiroth glanced about briefly, and then the rigid set of his shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. Clearly, to him, this was the first familiar setting he'd been in since he got here.
//Well, the lab sure would have been familiar, but somehow I doubt that would have relaxed him...//
At the far end of the brightly lit space, Strife stood with the boss, talking to each other. Their voices were low and casual; they did not carry across the distance. Next to them stood Zack, so much like the one walking in front of him, beside Sephiroth that it was like double vision. Beside Zack stood Aeris, and Reno froze up for a second at seeing the Cetra there.
They hadn't seen Aeris, neither of them, and Zack would recognize her instantly, and Sephiroth would as well. Though, Reno wasn't sure if he knew her as Zack's girlfriend or the Cetra he'd killed during Meteor.
There was an awkward conversation if he'd ever seen one. There was no more time to reflect, as they'd already approached the group.
"Boss." Reno threw Vincent a small half-salute in greeting. The dark clad man nodded in greeting, first at him, then at Elena and Rude. Elena gave him a more complete salute in reply, while Rude merely nodded in return. Elena always had more respect of authority than the two older Turks, and although she'd never developed her a hero worship for Valentine that rivaled the one she'd had for Tseng, she still respected the man a great deal.
Not that Reno didn't; he was 'The Boss' after all, and a damned good gunman. Either him or Rude would follow Valentine to the Crater itself if he told them to - because he was a Turk as well, and bonds like that ran thicker than blood.
"I hope the trip down was a simple matter?" Vincent's voice was always a surprise to Reno somehow, despite the years he'd know and worked with the man. He supposed it was because the man spoke so little, but a part of him felt that it was what you could sense in Valentine's voice - the constant and dark emotions.
"No problems here, Boss."
Valentine's eyes flickered briefly to Zackery, who was staring at Aeris as if she was a ghost. Actually, everyone was staring at the two of them, and Zack moved slightly closer to the Cetra, as if in warning.
Something slightly like pain, but more like loneliness flickered through Zackery's eyes. He knew that this wasn't his Aeris, Reno was sure, but still, it must have hurt to have been reminded that the people you knew and cared about weren't /your/ people.
Aeris smiled at him, something open and warm that felt like home to anyone who saw it, and said nothing at all.
"Where is Masamune?"
Trust Sephiroth to break that tender moment. Reality rushed back in, and the haze that Reno tended to associate with the Cetra was swept away. Zack choked out something between a snort and a laugh.
"Oh, so sorry we forgot to leave those out for you. My mistake."
Sephiroth bristled, and Reno tried to keep from laughing.
"Should we go looking for them?" Everyone froze, both at the proposal, and what it entailed, and at the fact that Zackery, not Sephiroth, had said it. Zack's grey gaze locked onto that of his future self, measuring.
Incredibly, Zack smiled under those eyes, and pulled the sword he'd been practicing with off his back, a mass of dark metal: the buster sword. Flipping the blade deftly, he presented the hilt to Zackery, and cautiously the man accepted, wary of the gift.
//He's not the only one who'd wary...// Reno let his hand creep toward his gun, and out of the corners of his eyes he saw Rude and Elena do the same. Cloud was a little less subtle, raising his hand to let it rest along the hilt of his sword, the translucent Ultima Weapon.
And Zack continued to smile, a wide and fierce grin, as if the situation was more amusing than anything in the world.
"Don't bother. You can take mine...you'll just have to beat Spike here to keep it."
Reno let a smile creep onto his own face at Strife's startled squawk as Zack pushed him away from the group, onto the training mats, and Zackery, face resolute, followed.
----
The fight was won as soon as Cloud evaded Zackery's first attack with blinding speed and a grace that made it look easy. After that, Sephiroth knew that his friend couldn't beat Cloud, and he was sure that Zackery and Cloud knew it as well. Something lighthearted appeared in both the fighters then, and outcome determined, they both seemed to resign themselves to having fun.
Sephiroth tried to keep track of how everyone else was reacting to this fight, but he soon found himself far too deeply engrossed in just watching Cloud move, all the potential he remembered in the boy, and more, so much more.
It would have been less amazing if he'd seen it happen gradually, a slow buildup of speed and skill that accrued over time. And even then, there was still what Hojo had done to consider, and what the war had done, uncountable experiences that had shaped Cloud into the fighter he was now.
Sephiroth knew Zack. As the only SOLDIER capable of giving him a good fight, Zack had become his sparring partner first and his second in command, well, second. The long experience with the man had given him a deep understanding of how well Zack fought. Zackery was a brilliant fighter, quick to improvise and use the opponents weakness against him. He'd done so against Sephiroth more than once.
And Cloud moved against him with all the strength and skill of someone who had no equal. The blond moved so quickly and effortlessly it was as if he didn't even feel the massive weight of the shimmering, nearly translucent sword he carried.
Watching Cloud fight was incredible, because all the weight and sorrow that the man carried appeared to drop away, and Sephiroth could see the boy he knew, the person he'd cared about, in this stoic stranger.
And unbelievably, Cloud was /smiling/, a half smile, slight and almost shy that quirked up the corners of his mouth as he fought, well, less fought and more resoundingly /thrashed/, Zackery.
He'd seen Cloud smile that way before, when all of them were together and Zackery had just done something exceptionally stupid. It almost hurt to see it now, because he remembered then how different things were now, how bleak and bizarre this future.
But still, more than anything else, it reminded him that yes, this was Cloud.
----
Zack couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest at the sight of Cloud, winning this mock fight with the past Zackery without really trying. He'd initiated this knowing Cloud would easily win, and knowing that would show his past self and Sephiroth that they had changed more than they could or would want to believe.
//Spike's done more than any of us thought he could...he's gone further than anyone else...//
Of all of them, all the elite fighters of Avalanche and Shinra, only a few could go head to head with Spike and even begin to hold their own.
//Of course, Seph could, especially this twisted shell that's him now...//
It had happened only once, about seven months ago, almost three months after Seph had been taken. It wasn't a major battle, just a skirmish outside of Rocket Town, but /he'd/ been there, and...and...
//And they fought, Cloud had to fight him again, again, after all he's done, and he wouldn't talk to anyone after it was over, not wounded bad but so hurt, and god his eyes were so /empty/.//
The image of Cloud: wet and shivering, his uniform soaked with rain and mud and blood, knees drawn up to his chest and a horrible hollowness in his glowing blue eyes had stayed with Zack, haunting his dreams for many nights.
//Cloud /knows/, but he's never really processed that Seph's not Seph anymore, and now there's this past Seph who-//
- Who was staring at Cloud far too intently than was healthy. Like someone who just realized that yes, Cloud had really grown up, and damn, he's grown up fine, war scars and trauma and all, hasn't he?
And the problem was, Seph wouldn't even know how selfish he was being, how much damage he could do.
//Oh, /fuck/.//
---- ---- Author's notes - ----
- I apologize for Jenova. She's very incoherent, and rambles horribly. Also, talk about the worst parent ever. Milk and cookies and random bodily possession.
- Apologize for any mistakes, but my brain wanted to get it out and over with. So, sorry in advance.
- I'm sorry that Tabitha becomes Ms. Plot Exposition sometimes. She's so much more lucid than everyone else, so she gets the job.
- About a hundred pages and seven chapters in and I finally introduce the innuendo. My speed is just staggering.
----
Xehorista Tora
----
Chapter Seven
----
Lost, it slowly went away,
Was gone without a trace.
I'm tired and I can't remember.
Lost, I thought it came to stay
And put me in my place,
I'm tired and I won't remember.
- Skold, "Remember"
---- ----
There was nothing human left in bone village. The humans who used to live there, digging through the dirt in vain attempts to discover the secrets of the past had long since fled, and the few that had stayed were no longer anything resembling human.
They hadn't been doing much of value anyway. She'd absorbed their memories when they became part of her, one of her mindless drones, and they'd barely begun to scratch the surface of what the Cetra were, what the artifacts they'd been digging up meant.
//Worthless little drones.//
Not like her son. Her son was strong and proud and beautiful and she was so happy to have him home again. She was a part of her son, and no matter how much his mind beat at the walls of his cage, she knew best.
//Mineminemineminemine.//
Sephiroth was hers, not completely, but close enough. The mako in him reeked of them, of the Cetra -
//Hate them. Hate them, green and glowing and they hurt and hate them.//
- and it still burned her when she got too close, to his heart or his mind. But she had enough of herself in him that she could hold onto his body, hold him close to her and sometimes she could forget that they weren't one.
/...you're insane..let me go..bitch../
The voice rose from within the body, from the mind that was still Sephiroth, and Jenova smiled at his weak defiance.
//Mine. /My/ son.//
He hated the possessives, she knew. He hated them because he'd lived so long without them, that those few years, entrenched in the war though they were, seemed almost like some hazy memory of paradise; of blue skies and clear waters.
/...fucking bitch../
//Mine. Always mine. Not even he can take you from me.//
Jenova loved him so much that it was almost its own form of hatred, a strange emotion that twisted and writhed like so many poisonous snakes.
She loved him, and she hated so much because of it. She hated the color green, because it was them, it was the Cetra and the lifestream, glowing with a power that hers could not yet equal. Her green, the girl, the last.
//But I know...I know, I know, and they don't, they don't know...//
She'd been reminded of the fact that their strength was beyond hers when she'd felt the lifestream flare up impossibly bright a day ago, its full force brought to bear by the last Cetra.
It had receded, but she'd felt something new when it did, something new and so familiar, so much like home that she knew they'd somehow brought her son back, /again/.
Except it wasn't really possible. They could make as many bodies as they wanted, but there was only one soul, only one original, and it was /hers/. Everything in her screamed that it couldn't happen, couldn't be.
But she'd felt him, and he'd felt real. This was some strange new power of the Cetra, and suddenly the hate burned in her again, erasing her calm countenance that she wore as she strategized.
Hate. She hated knowing that even now /they/ were still stronger than she was, they still had what she could only grasp at, and shudder in rage as it burned her hand when she dared to touch it, holding on until she had to pull back, and all that was left was the cold.
Cold. Her son was cold, to everyone, to her, and she couldn't stand the cold silence her son gave her, after all she was doing for him, after how much she loved him.
//I'm doing this for you, for you, all for you, and why can't you see, my son? Why can't you see what I'm building here, for you?//
From Sephiroth, there was no answer, and the rage burned in her again, because they'd done this to him, they were keeping him from her, even now, and she couldn't do anything about it. He wouldn't even admit he was her son, and his words of strong, frantic denial hurt her more than she would have thought possible. She hadn't thought she had the capacity for that sort of pain.
But when he'd yelled those words at her, the strongest his thoughts had ever been, that Lucretia was his mother, and she was some 'alien fucking bitch' everything had hurt, so hard and sharp that she hadn't known what it was at first, what was going on.
Hojo had said to her that she'd have to be careful, that she could feel when she was so close to someone real, but she hadn't expected his words to understate the intensity of the emotion that she felt to the degree that they did.
It was so cold, this close to the crater, to her home. She come here, from a place so far away that she could not remember it, only the long expanse of travel through the void of space, where everything was cold.
She'd always been cold, and when she came here she sought warmth. She'd watched them, the Cetra who came to heal the wound she had made, and modeled her form after theirs, after the ones who had burned so brightly when the lifestream took them.
They must have been so warm, so happy as they slipped into that endless green. Watching from afar, more force than form, Jenova knew she'd never wanted anything as much as she wanted that warmth.
But when she came to them, wearing the faces of those who were in that promised warmth, the Cetra had shuddered away from her, hate and fear in their eyes. They'd called the lifestream out of the earth, a shimmering wall of green, and she wanted to welcome it, held out her arms to welcome that warmth.
Those moments were so long ago, millennia and more, but she stilled remembered every instant of what happened next. The lifestream /burned/ at her, as cold as ice and as hot as the fire in the hearts of the stars she'd passed in her flight through space. She'd recoiled from it, but they had pursued her, and they had called great monsters from the earth, and all her touch had brought was death, and she knew they hated her as they sealed her in the cold rocks of the earth, far from all heat and light.
It had taken her years of existence in that darkness to realize that she hated it too. She waited in the earth, and grew as a disease grows, as a plague. She knew she'd be free, and then she'd take all that they wouldn't give her an age ago.
She'd consume them all, take over the lifestream that burned her even now, but she was stronger now, strong enough to stand against the pain and hold it inside her.
She was stronger now, she would be stronger now, and the lifestream was weaker, weakened by the foolish humans who were fighting to stave off her coming.
She'd take them too, take everything until the moon turned red as blood and the stars feel from the sky like so many chips of broken glass. She'd even drain the color out of the sky, that damnable blue that reminded her son so much of the failure, the reject of
Hojo's that Sephiroth loved.
He shouldn't love anyone but her.
//Should I take him too, my son? Should I take him, so that you can be with him, with me, forever and ever and ever...//
Horror washed over her from the corner of the mind that was still only him, horror turning into a slow, sick rage.
/I'll kill you...kill you bitch...never find all the pieces.../
His voice faded in and out like a dying cry from the planet. He was so hard to hear, sometimes, so withdrawn and alone.
But he had her, and she loved him, and soon she'd take the failure, and her son's friend who still reeked of the lifestream, like her son had, of a spirit still fresh from its green flow.
And she'd take this /other/, this other than felt like her son but couldn't be.
She'd take them all, and they'd all be a part of her, and forget that they ever were anything else.
----
Sephiroth wasn't dead, but he knew he was in hell.
If he hadn't been dead before - well, technically, he'd been dead twice before, but he didn't really care to count - he'd think that he was dead now, was dead and stuck in some infernal torture of the damned, forced to spend all eternity trapped in a corner of his head while his body moved like some awful puppet and the full force of Jenova pushed at him at all times, so strong he could barely hear himself think sometimes.
He was walled off, protected by the green fire of the mako in his blood, and the barrier distanced him from Jenova. He could barely reach her, although she, her presence so much stronger than his, broadcast her every thought and feeling.
And Jenova /felt/. She felt everything in extremes, so strongly that it hurt even through the barrier.
She couldn't feel what he felt, he knew that, unless he sent his thoughts to her, pushed them through the barrier powered by mako and the Cetra. It was one of his small amusements - one of his only amusements - to push feelings and thoughts at her that he knew would hurt her, if she was indeed capable of hurting.
Thoughts like the fact that he hated her, hated her so much he could barely remember a time when he'd hated anything so much. Or the fact that he wasn't her son, she wasn't his mother, his mother was real and human.
Even dead, Lucretia was so much more of a mother to him than this beast.
The thoughts that hurt her most of all were the thoughts that had love in them; love attached to other people. It let Jenova know he was capable of love, just not directed toward her.
He'd sent thoughts like those towards her when she'd made his body fight Cloud.
//She made me...made me fight him, and I swore, I swore I'd never hurt him again...and she /made me/...//
The hatred and rage he felt over that had barely begun to fade. That she'd taken him and made him fight Cloud, when he'd promised the blond that he'd never do anything like that again. That Cloud would never have to fight Sephiroth again, and see the blood of someone he cared about, someone he'd loved since his days at Shinra, on his blade.
She hated the fact that he loved Cloud, that he'd gotten closer to Cloud in the four years he'd been back than he'd ever been to anyone; even closer than he'd been to Zack.
It had been hard, despite their years of friendship in Shinra, years with feelings that had run far deeper than friendship, for Cloud to overcome himself and everything that had happened between them, in those years that Sephiroth knew he was not responsible for, and yet still carried all the blame. It had been almost as hard for Sephiroth to overcome his own shields and defenses. In some way, he'd been forced to finally grow up, strange as it sounded, forced to deal with the world instead of holding himself apart from it.
But after that period where they broke down their walls and rebuilt them, but different this time, not lower but with more doors; after that, things had been better than he would have imagined possible. The war was turning their way, with the three of them fighting, and he could almost imagine an after, an ending where there was happiness and peace.
And Jenova had taken those almost-dreams and shattered them into so many pieces that Sephiroth wasn't sure he'd ever be able to pick them all up again.
His body moved through the camp Jenova and Hojo had erected in what used to be Bone Village, leaving his mind free to wander. To remember, even though it hurt.
Remember:
//Before death and rebirth, before Meteor, before everything: remember a time so long ago it doesn't seem real, doesn't seem like it could be real. Zack and Cloud: the former tried in battle, the latter too young to have even lifted a sword against an enemy with intent to kill. So old, so young, so young because everyone seemed younger than him then, because he'd seen so much, and so blind to what everyone else had lived through, what everyone else saw.
So blind to everything, and he never thought to look, thought to realize what he was missing.
But then, it was the three of them, and Zack was talking to loudly and Cloud was blushing, a faint tinge of red plastered across his cheeks as he weekly protested so of Zack's rather lewd suggestions.
And because he could, because he wanted to, because no one was looking, Sephiroth let himself smile.//
The memory faded and the cold reality rushed it, sharp and cruel. Jenova was still controlling him, moving him, and although he knew he couldn't feel the wind and the air, everything still felt so cold.
A voice, sibilant as a snake and just as treacherous, rose from behind him, and Sephiroth felt himself shudder in his green-walled corner, and cursed himself for that reaction, that even now the man could startle him so.
"The ranks await your command, Sephiroth."
Hojo hadn't changed as much as Sephiroth had expected him to. He was as much a monster now as he'd been before, but he still looked like the strange, apathetic scientist that had reigned over so much of Sephiroth's life.
But he was /different/, even if he hadn't /changed/. The man had always been sadistic and psychotic, and while those traits were perhaps more pronounced now that he had given them free reign, they'd always been there. He looked so normal now, though, standing in the midst of so much barely controlled frenzy that it was almost incongruous.
But even though his shape was human, something unreal danced in Hojo's eyes, and the dark iris had long since swallowed the white around it, turning the entire eye black. Sephiroth wondered if he could still see, or if it even mattered to the doctor.
He didn't want to know what the doctor did when he got bored.
Hojo always called him Sephiroth, and he somehow made the made the name seem wrong, because it was him saying it. Anyone calling him Sephiroth now, when he so obviously wasn't, would be wrong and strange, but somehow it was worse when Hojo said it.
Even Cloud had never called him Sephiroth after he'd been taken, not even in their one fight, after Sephiroth had wounded him and his eyes had screamed 'not again.' Even then, the name he spat out had been Jenova's and Sephiroth had been relieved, incredibly happy, because it meant Cloud didn't blame him. He'd been forgiven by Cloud, even for the things he'd yet to do.
And belatedly, he realized Hojo was still talking, and Jenova was listening intently to the scientist.
"...The lifestream has been successful in bringing the two past replicas back. Interestingly, this did not result in the expected time paradox and annihilation of said replicas as soon as they entered our time stream.." Hojo laughed, long and low, an evil, malicious sound.
"So, since they're still active in this time, they're viable specimens for whoever gets them first."
The man wore no glasses anymore, but light shone off the mass of darkness in his eyes with the same disturbing effect.
"As I said, your ranks await your command, Sephiroth."
Panic set in then, at Hojo's calm statement, at the sea of assembled monsters. He knew he had to warn them all, before he watched everything break apart.
----
"And Kisaragi's requested that Cid - or one of his lackeys - give her transport back to Midgar. She's left her second in charge of the Wutain troops, with Godo still acting as official head."
Reeve nodded at the woman who sat across the small table, her blond hair pinned tightly, sensibly back and dressed in regulation field gear; the fact that the pants and shirt were clean made them look like parade material compared to what the rest of the troops wore. Still, it was a far cry from the red dresses that Scarlet of Shinra had once been known for.
The war had changed everyone, Reeve knew. To some it came naturally: Yuffie had grown into her responsibilities as easily as breathing; while others had to be forced: Vincent had rejected both offers of high rank and Turk leadership for so long that Zack still called him an ex-Turk sometimes.
Sometimes, though, he couldn't help but think that Scarlet had changed more than any of them. The woman had entered the war as arrogant and cruel as she'd been before it, still vying for the top spot in the company, although throwing her whole into the war effort all the same. He wondered how much of that was selfish; Reeve was sure that Scarlet had no desire to become part of Jenova's fold.
Her attitude had changed during one of Jenova's first large assaults, her direct attack on Junon. At that time, so early in, they'd only had Cloud and the rest of Avalanche and the Turks, and everyone was fighting, staging desperate warfare to try to keep one of the only strongholds they had except for Midgar, and the only fort that bordered on the water.
It almost seemed a miracle that, by the end of the battle, the only death was Heidegger's.
//Still not sure if anyone was really sorry to see him go.//
The large, almost brutish man wasn't very missed, unsurprising considering how inefficient and boorish he'd been, and how well Scarlet had taken over his division as well as her own.
The battle had changed Scarlet too. During it, one of Hojo's more unpleasant creations had managed to rake her face and torso. She'd been in the Infirmary for nearly two weeks, and the scars that marred her face and shoulders had never faded. Reeve doubted they ever would. The woman had come close to losing an eye, as well, but he couldn't help but think that the near-maiming was something of a blessing in disguise.
Since the incident, years ago now, the woman had changed completely. She was still as caustic and callous, but she was no longer cruel, and had been humbled by what she no doubt regarded as the loss of her beauty.
Scarlet was a woman possessed, driven not to accelerate through the ranks of Shinra but to defeat Jenova. And Hojo. The 'I hate Hojo' line grew longer by the day, hell, by the second.
It was strange, that as Scarlet had abandoned her pursuit of power, she'd received it. Reeve never forgot how strange this partnership between the two of them was, even unnatural in some sense, when they'd hated each other so fiercely in Shinra, years ago.
//Murderous rumors in the hallways, that company was like a battleground, but we never knew what true war could be then, and we were so stupid, fighting against each other.//
No one had known then, in what he'd heard Reno refer to as their 'halcyon days of youth,' (something he'd remembered because he'd been surprised the Turk knew the word, but then again, he was sure Reno enjoyed making people believe he was stupid) how bad things could get.
"What's her ETA?"
Scarlet flipped through several papers in her ever present stack of folders. Reeve could hardly remember seeing the woman without folders and a gun on her at all times.
"Highwind's still based at Junon, helping ferry researchers back and forth, so he won't be picking her up personally. He's contacted one of his lackeys out at the Rocket town airfields to pick her up. According to reports, they left several hours ago, so Kisaragi should arrive in Midgar in the morning."
Reeve nodded. Rocket town had become something of the base of air operations. The level plains were easy to evacuate if required, and made for an ideal airfield. Cid still commanded the Highwind, even though he technically oversaw all air operations. His wife, Shera, was one of the researchers at Junon, although the entire Junon team spent half their time at Midgar, and vice versa. He knew that Tabitha was due to go the harbor city soon.
Scarlet moved a strand of hair out of her face, back in to the practical bun, and Reeve couldn't help but wonder if he'd start seeing gray in those blond strands. The woman had been in Shinra longer than almost any of them now. While she wasn't old, this war tore at people, wore them thin.
A part of him was surprised that no one had broken apart yet. He'd thought Cloud would have, with everything life and time seemed determined to put him through, but the blond fighter appeared to have vast reserves of coping mechanism.
//Bullshit. Cloud doesn't cope, he /buries/. Everything he feels that's wrong he just buries deep inside. Why do you think Zack and Tifa never let him brood?//
"I've received reports from Wallace, out in North Corel. They haven't sustained any major attacks since the one the trio put down, but he does say that the miners there have noticed that the mako levels are lower than they've recorded."
That caught Reeve's attention. Anything out of the ordinary was possibly something that could later get you killed. Nothing could be overlooked.
"Lower? Is that a possible aftershock from the events that Aeris directed - the common memory and the past?"
A shake of the head, slight but sure, as the woman flipped through her files to pull out a graph. She slid it across the table to Reeve - a representation of the mako readings in the North Corel caves over the past three days. The line was fairly constant, small fluctuations not affecting the overall reading. Early yesterday there was a sharp rise , followed by a sharp drop, which returned to the normal level after less than an hour. The lifestream had stabilized itself after Cloud and his two inadvertent passengers had returned to the present time frame, out of the lifestream's communal memory that had transported Cloud to the past. There was a period of normalcy in the graph, but sharply following it the lifestream had dipped down, a sharp decline that caused nothing but worry, with no explanation.
"Does Mideel corroborate this?
"Not only Mideel, but Dr. Tabitha's given me reports from Cosmo Canyon, Wutai, and Nibelheim that all agree on this strange dip. I've asked her up to meet with us, she should be here shortly." The woman glanced at her watch. "Immediately, in fact."
Reeve ran a hand through hair that was already ruffled and uncombed. "And Yuffie's found some urgent reason to be in Midgar."
"She does have the only functional Knights of the Round summon, after all. If the shit is moving toward the fan, it's better that Kisaragi's here to enjoy it."
"For whatever good she can get out of that summon, with the lifestream strained as it is." As Jenova infiltrated the lifestream the power of materia began to dim. Not the magic materia, as those drew more from the caster than the planet, but the summons that must reside in the lifestream themselves had been growing fainter and fainter as the war progressed. And they, the raw forces inside the planet, died.
They'd expected it, to a certain degree, but parts of the phenomenon were still completely inexplicable. Like why Leviathan - which Yuffie had given back to Godo - was as strong as ever, but Hades would barely poison an enemy anymore. Or why the first incarnation of the Bahamut series had grown /stronger/, of all things, but the later two had grown to be pale shadows, hardly doing any damage.
Knights of the Round had been the strongest summon, but it had been nearly a year since Yuffie had cast it, and Reeve wondered if it was at all effective anymore. Things weathered, after time. Nothing stayed the same anymore, in this war. Everything grew old and rusted, a faded and sickly shade of what used to be.
Things fell apart, and you tried to pick up the pieces as best you could, even though they were sharps fragments, the memories of what used to be, and they cut your hands.
Clouds hands hadn't stopped bleeding since before Jenova. Vincent, Zack, everyone had blood on their hands, and so much of it wasn't their own, but so much of it was.
Scarlet's voice pulled him out of his reverie. "We don't have any real data on how the summons work, or how they've been affected in the war. We have results, and effects, but no causes."
Knocking followed her comment, and the door swung open without waiting for permission from those inside. Dr. Tabitha entered the room, the garish color of her lab coat set off by the light streaming in from the windows, the sun high overhead. It was nearly noon.
The scientist had her glasses on, and her eyes held the strained look of one who had spent too many hours reading files. She carried several of these files with her, under one arm. Her hair was pulled up tightly, but several strands escaped, giving the head of the science department an altogether disheveled appearance.
She stopped before the table and pulled her glasses off and tucked them into the front pocket of her lab coat in one motion. She began to make motions to smooth out the wrinkles in the loose fabric, then stopped, and muttering something that could only be "fuck it" sat down.
"Reeve, Scarlet; I apologize for being late."
Scarlet waved it off. "You're all of two minutes late. Besides, it's given me time to explain the mako readings to our president here."
At that, Tabitha immediately began flipping through more folders, searching for a file of some sort. "I have more information regarding that, although it's not conclusive enough yet to decide anything. I wish we still had Icicle Inn, or Bone Village...their labs were so much closer to the crater then the one we've set up...Here it is!"
The doctor wrestled two sheets of paper clear of the folders. "We've gathered this data from the lab we've set up in the materia cave north of North Corel, one of the several Avalanche found during Meteor."
She slid the paper across the table to them, the clear overlay fluttering up.
"The first graph - the one on the white paper - is of the mako recordings. You notice the spike and subsequent recession is an exact duplicate of the readings found in the other labs."
Reeve nodded. "And the second sheet?"
"The second sheet is a printout of the percentage of impurities of the lifestream as recorded and graphed over the same time interval. In layman's terms, this is a graph of the presence of Jenova in the lifestream."
The black line on the clear sheet suddenly seemed murderous, shifting and ready to strike, like a snake poised to bite.
"As you can see, the readings indicate a normal level of Jenova in the lifestream...until the Cetra's collective memory incident. After that, she's begun to drop off, reaching a lower concentration in the lifestream than we've recorded for nearly two years."
The graph was easy enough to decipher, even without the doctor's explanation. The two lines almost moved in sync, leveling and then dropping off in near unison. It was inexplicable and disturbing.
Tabitha paused, as if to consider whether or not to continue, and then sighed, her decision apparently made.
"Normally, we'd except a decrease in Jenova to be marked by an upsurgence of lifestream, or an increase in Jenova to be marked by a decrease of lifestream. The fact that they both decrease is unlike anything we've ever seen. Either they're both in some sort of harm, the cause of which I cannot explain, or they're both deliberately pulling back their forces from the front. A détente or sorts, if you would, except they're hiding their bombs instead of destroying them, I'm sure."
Scarlet spoke up, the woman's mind racing across strategies and counter-strategies, vulnerable spots in their defense, places where they could be hurt.
"Pulling back their forces for what?"
Tabitha rubbed the bridge of her nose, between her eyes. "At this point, I can only speculate. I'm going to take my readings and my speculations to Cloud after this meeting is over, but /I/ believe that Jenova is mustering an attack, and the lifestream is marshalling its forces in order to fight her."
Scarlet nodded imperceptibly, as if she'd thought as much. "Do you have anything to back this up, Doctor?"
"Jenova drops off first, doesn't she?" Reeve had been quietly staring at the graph at its insidious overlay, and he spoke now, startling them both.
"Yes. She does. She drops her presence first, and the lifestream follows quickly after. There's a time delay of approximately sixteen minutes between the two drops."
Reeve lowered his eyes, as if in pain. In truth, it was pain, a different kind of pain. Nobody...nobody in this war got anything that resembled rest, and none of them ever would.
He knew it, he'd known it for a long time, but even old truths hurt sometimes.
"She's pulling back first. She's pulling back, and pooling her power, and she's going to attack."
Tabitha nodded. "That's what I believe, at any rate. Why now, is the question? She had to be hurting after the lifestream flared up briefly during Cloud's little trip, but for her to pull back so suddenly and gather her forces...why now?"
"Sephiroth." Scarlet's voice rang out into the calm that followed Tabitha's question.
"Sephiroth? What does he have to do with it?" Reeve queried, trying to keep a petulant tone from coloring his voice.
//I can't afford not to understand anything, and right now I don't understand everything!//
A hint of a brilliant, almost maniacal, gleam appeared in Scarlet's eyes. It was something familiar but nearly forgotten, something Reeve hadn't seen in a long time, since before the battle at Junon.
It was altogether surprising but somehow comforting; reaffirmation of the fact that while Scarlet may have bent, she wasn't anything close to broken.
"I don't know how Jenova thinks. But I know Hojo, and Hojo's always been obsessed with one thing. Sephiroth. And I think Jenova's always been obsessed with him too."
"But to risk so much on a full frontal assault on us...it doesn't make any sense, especially considering the fact that we have the past Zack and Sephiroth here, who I'm sure will fight if it comes down to it."
The gleam in Scarlet's eye only strengthened at Tabitha's protest, and Reeve almost expected her to laugh out loud, high and sharp.
"So you think she's sensed them two! So glad to have everyone's agreement."
Reeve realized that he was starting to understand what Scarlet was thinking, and the fact that he was starting to comprehend how Scarlet thought was frightening enough, let alone the actual conjectures such understanding brought.
"You think she's coming here for the past Sephiroth."
Scarlet nodded slightly. "Yes and no. I think that she's been planning to come here all along, but the fact that Cloud has brought back Sephiroth has only made her want to come here now. If you think about it, who's stronger, Cloud or Sephiroth?" Scarlet looked to Reeve.
"I'm not sure...I mean, yes, Cloud defeated Sephiroth, but he wasn't really him when we fought him during Meteor. They've sparred, I know, but I don't think they've really gone against each other. They were very close, after all."
Scarlet overrode that last comment, but then again, now one talked about Cloud and Sephiroth's relationship, although whether out of embarrassment or for Cloud's sake Reeve was never quite sure.
"But still, I've always wondered, why didn't Jenova go for Cloud? She'd probably consider Cloud to be stronger, which is a fair enough thought, and Cloud's done her far more wrong than Sephiroth. She had every reason to take Cloud, but instead she takes Sephiroth. I'm not buying that crap Cloud told us about 'Sephiroth was too close'. She took him because she's obsessed, as crazed over him as Hojo is. And she's going to come now to get this Sephiroth, because she's that fucked up. The question is, can she? Doctor?"
Tabitha tensed slightly, as if Scarlet had surprised her with her sudden attention. "Can she? Honestly, no. She takes active possession of the body, after all, and she can't do that with two people. Her attention would be split between two people and they would be able to break free."
//Thank god for that.// Of course, Reeve had only started to relax when Tabitha added a side note:
"At least, I think so."
"Wait, you don't know?"
"Scarlet, Jenova is a foreign entity. She's not human, and doesn't function like a human in any way. Everything I know about her is either scraped from Gast and Hojo's notes or pure conjecture - and if you want some hellish fun, try deciphering the 'good doctor's' notes. He's not only mad, he's close to illiterate, I swear...Anyway, the labs can't give me much concrete data, so I don't have a lot to go on. But considering the number of times that Cloud has gone into the field and yet has not been possessed, it's fairly safe to assume that she is incapable of possessing two people at once. Then again, it's also fairly safe to assume she's incapable of possessing anyone but Sephiroth, although I very highly doubt it. Hojo did much of the same to the both of them."
Reeve sighed. "So he's as safe as he can be."
"He's dangerous, Reeve. He's as safe as he's going to be, know that he knows the truth, and if he does go mad, his skills, while great, are still something Cloud can defeat. He doesn't have this war to sharpen him like the other Sephiroth has."
Scarlet shook her head, worry and thought narrowing her eyes. "Don't write off Sephiroth. None of us has ever seen him go all out. I think Jenova restricted him during Meteor, and I think she probably does the same now."
"Still, Scarlet, it doesn't change the fact that they're unknowns, variables we can hardly afford. We should prepare for what will likely be an assault, and will likely come soon, but we should watch them as well."
Slumping back in his chair, Reeve sighed. "We'll do what we have to. It's all we can do."
----
If Reno had his way, he'd take a gun to this new Sephiroth's head, and damn the consequences.
It wasn't personal dislike, not by any means. He'd known Sephiroth well enough during his days at Shinra, and the man had been cold and distant, but polite enough, even if the politeness masked a sense of barely constrained power and fury.
Sephiroth had always felt angry then, so tightly wound that Reno wondered if he ever took the damned stick out of his ass. But beneath the tight control, there'd always been a sense of anger, rage at the world and himself.
Sephiroth had always had something to prove to the world, and Reno had always found it funny that the man had thought he hid it so well from everyone.
//Fucking hilarious, actually. The anal ones always think they're so good at hiding /everything/.//
Then again, everything was hilarious when you were as drunk as Reno had been when he'd first realized this, drunk enough to consider going up to Sephiroth and asking if he just shoved the damned Masamune up his ass and decided to hell with the stick.
He was almost tempted to ask the question to the man who walked in front of them now, all cold rage and masked fury.
//And still possessing a giant stick shoved so far up his...//
It was a strange sort of juxtaposition, how different the Sephiroth that Reno had known during the war was from this Sephiroth, still so cold, but somehow weaker for it. Younger, and more fragile. Sephiroth had changed so much that it was almost unnerving. They'd picked Zackery up on the way down to one of the main training areas, where Strife was likely waiting with the boss and probably with Zack, if only because Zack seemed to be wherever Cloud was, these days.
It was unnerving to see just how much Zack /hadn't/ changed. Oh sure, there were subtle differences - the Zack Reno knew was colder, stronger, and there was something harsher in his eyes, but underneath the thin veneer was something that was still essentially, intrinsically Zack.
The past Zack had suspicion in his eyes, and a wary way of walking, but he was still very much like the Zack that Reno knew.
Zack had gone through a lot; Reno knew he had no real idea of what those five years with Hojo had been like, or what the SOLDIER had suffered afterward, being dead and coming back and fighting so long in the war, but somehow he was still just as much Zack as this past incarnation.
Maybe some people didn't have to change. It was almost disturbing to think that could be true.
Sephiroth even /walked/ differently. The past moved through the hallways of Shinra with a blind and utterly stupid confidence that the present Sephiroth had been too experienced to allow.
//Still thinks he's untouchable...I wonder if anyone's told him how susceptible he is to the 'lower' emotions...//
He doubted somehow that the lovely little file the higher-ups and the Doc had decided to bestow upon Sephiroth had included the details of his future (and at this point past, depending on how you looked at it) relationship with Strife.
Reno would love to be the one to tell him, just to see the expression he'd come up with. Although, if this Sephiroth was any good he'd be able to hide it fairly well, but there was always hope, after all. Everyone had to have hope.
Still, if he did do that, there was a great chance that Zack would try very hard to beat the living daylights out of him. Probably claim he was inflicting 'emotional trauma on Cloud's wounded mind.' As Doc had told him once. Reno figured that was her way of telling him to shut up before he made Strife go psycho on them.
Strife hadn't done it yet, but sometimes Reno couldn't help but wonder how he'd resisted for so long.
//By the planet, /I/ feel like going AWOL half the time.//
A part of Reno wanted to assert that Strife must be made of stronger stuff, but the practical (or as Rude and Elena called it, his asshole side) assured him that Strife was simply too damned stubborn to break.
Reno was stubborn, but he knew he had a different breed of obstinate running through him. Strife was like a wall of stone, or ice. Reno liked to think of himself as a more flexible kind of stubborn - like water, rushing through with speed and power.
Subtle and tenancious. And suave at the same time. Because he was just /that/ good.
Right.
They'd reached the training halls, large rooms of padded mats that always, no matter how many times the cleaning crew came in, smelled of sweat and exhaustion. They were large complexes, newly rebuilt after they'd been partially destroyed in Meteor. Reno remembered from before Meteor, and either they'd had the same architect or they'd been sharing notes, because the new version was almost exactly the same as the old one.
Sephiroth glanced about briefly, and then the rigid set of his shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. Clearly, to him, this was the first familiar setting he'd been in since he got here.
//Well, the lab sure would have been familiar, but somehow I doubt that would have relaxed him...//
At the far end of the brightly lit space, Strife stood with the boss, talking to each other. Their voices were low and casual; they did not carry across the distance. Next to them stood Zack, so much like the one walking in front of him, beside Sephiroth that it was like double vision. Beside Zack stood Aeris, and Reno froze up for a second at seeing the Cetra there.
They hadn't seen Aeris, neither of them, and Zack would recognize her instantly, and Sephiroth would as well. Though, Reno wasn't sure if he knew her as Zack's girlfriend or the Cetra he'd killed during Meteor.
There was an awkward conversation if he'd ever seen one. There was no more time to reflect, as they'd already approached the group.
"Boss." Reno threw Vincent a small half-salute in greeting. The dark clad man nodded in greeting, first at him, then at Elena and Rude. Elena gave him a more complete salute in reply, while Rude merely nodded in return. Elena always had more respect of authority than the two older Turks, and although she'd never developed her a hero worship for Valentine that rivaled the one she'd had for Tseng, she still respected the man a great deal.
Not that Reno didn't; he was 'The Boss' after all, and a damned good gunman. Either him or Rude would follow Valentine to the Crater itself if he told them to - because he was a Turk as well, and bonds like that ran thicker than blood.
"I hope the trip down was a simple matter?" Vincent's voice was always a surprise to Reno somehow, despite the years he'd know and worked with the man. He supposed it was because the man spoke so little, but a part of him felt that it was what you could sense in Valentine's voice - the constant and dark emotions.
"No problems here, Boss."
Valentine's eyes flickered briefly to Zackery, who was staring at Aeris as if she was a ghost. Actually, everyone was staring at the two of them, and Zack moved slightly closer to the Cetra, as if in warning.
Something slightly like pain, but more like loneliness flickered through Zackery's eyes. He knew that this wasn't his Aeris, Reno was sure, but still, it must have hurt to have been reminded that the people you knew and cared about weren't /your/ people.
Aeris smiled at him, something open and warm that felt like home to anyone who saw it, and said nothing at all.
"Where is Masamune?"
Trust Sephiroth to break that tender moment. Reality rushed back in, and the haze that Reno tended to associate with the Cetra was swept away. Zack choked out something between a snort and a laugh.
"Oh, so sorry we forgot to leave those out for you. My mistake."
Sephiroth bristled, and Reno tried to keep from laughing.
"Should we go looking for them?" Everyone froze, both at the proposal, and what it entailed, and at the fact that Zackery, not Sephiroth, had said it. Zack's grey gaze locked onto that of his future self, measuring.
Incredibly, Zack smiled under those eyes, and pulled the sword he'd been practicing with off his back, a mass of dark metal: the buster sword. Flipping the blade deftly, he presented the hilt to Zackery, and cautiously the man accepted, wary of the gift.
//He's not the only one who'd wary...// Reno let his hand creep toward his gun, and out of the corners of his eyes he saw Rude and Elena do the same. Cloud was a little less subtle, raising his hand to let it rest along the hilt of his sword, the translucent Ultima Weapon.
And Zack continued to smile, a wide and fierce grin, as if the situation was more amusing than anything in the world.
"Don't bother. You can take mine...you'll just have to beat Spike here to keep it."
Reno let a smile creep onto his own face at Strife's startled squawk as Zack pushed him away from the group, onto the training mats, and Zackery, face resolute, followed.
----
The fight was won as soon as Cloud evaded Zackery's first attack with blinding speed and a grace that made it look easy. After that, Sephiroth knew that his friend couldn't beat Cloud, and he was sure that Zackery and Cloud knew it as well. Something lighthearted appeared in both the fighters then, and outcome determined, they both seemed to resign themselves to having fun.
Sephiroth tried to keep track of how everyone else was reacting to this fight, but he soon found himself far too deeply engrossed in just watching Cloud move, all the potential he remembered in the boy, and more, so much more.
It would have been less amazing if he'd seen it happen gradually, a slow buildup of speed and skill that accrued over time. And even then, there was still what Hojo had done to consider, and what the war had done, uncountable experiences that had shaped Cloud into the fighter he was now.
Sephiroth knew Zack. As the only SOLDIER capable of giving him a good fight, Zack had become his sparring partner first and his second in command, well, second. The long experience with the man had given him a deep understanding of how well Zack fought. Zackery was a brilliant fighter, quick to improvise and use the opponents weakness against him. He'd done so against Sephiroth more than once.
And Cloud moved against him with all the strength and skill of someone who had no equal. The blond moved so quickly and effortlessly it was as if he didn't even feel the massive weight of the shimmering, nearly translucent sword he carried.
Watching Cloud fight was incredible, because all the weight and sorrow that the man carried appeared to drop away, and Sephiroth could see the boy he knew, the person he'd cared about, in this stoic stranger.
And unbelievably, Cloud was /smiling/, a half smile, slight and almost shy that quirked up the corners of his mouth as he fought, well, less fought and more resoundingly /thrashed/, Zackery.
He'd seen Cloud smile that way before, when all of them were together and Zackery had just done something exceptionally stupid. It almost hurt to see it now, because he remembered then how different things were now, how bleak and bizarre this future.
But still, more than anything else, it reminded him that yes, this was Cloud.
----
Zack couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest at the sight of Cloud, winning this mock fight with the past Zackery without really trying. He'd initiated this knowing Cloud would easily win, and knowing that would show his past self and Sephiroth that they had changed more than they could or would want to believe.
//Spike's done more than any of us thought he could...he's gone further than anyone else...//
Of all of them, all the elite fighters of Avalanche and Shinra, only a few could go head to head with Spike and even begin to hold their own.
//Of course, Seph could, especially this twisted shell that's him now...//
It had happened only once, about seven months ago, almost three months after Seph had been taken. It wasn't a major battle, just a skirmish outside of Rocket Town, but /he'd/ been there, and...and...
//And they fought, Cloud had to fight him again, again, after all he's done, and he wouldn't talk to anyone after it was over, not wounded bad but so hurt, and god his eyes were so /empty/.//
The image of Cloud: wet and shivering, his uniform soaked with rain and mud and blood, knees drawn up to his chest and a horrible hollowness in his glowing blue eyes had stayed with Zack, haunting his dreams for many nights.
//Cloud /knows/, but he's never really processed that Seph's not Seph anymore, and now there's this past Seph who-//
- Who was staring at Cloud far too intently than was healthy. Like someone who just realized that yes, Cloud had really grown up, and damn, he's grown up fine, war scars and trauma and all, hasn't he?
And the problem was, Seph wouldn't even know how selfish he was being, how much damage he could do.
//Oh, /fuck/.//
---- ---- Author's notes - ----
- I apologize for Jenova. She's very incoherent, and rambles horribly. Also, talk about the worst parent ever. Milk and cookies and random bodily possession.
- Apologize for any mistakes, but my brain wanted to get it out and over with. So, sorry in advance.
- I'm sorry that Tabitha becomes Ms. Plot Exposition sometimes. She's so much more lucid than everyone else, so she gets the job.
- About a hundred pages and seven chapters in and I finally introduce the innuendo. My speed is just staggering.