All usual disclaimers applicable.
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Xehorista Tora
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Chapter Eight
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"Beautiful. When I die, all I will be is foam on the waves...No. Even less than that now."
- Hellboy
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They came from the sea.
The sky above the sea was covered in patchy clouds, dark thunderheads that grew quickly with the promise of storm. The moon's light slipped in through the gaps in the clouds, the pale glow lighting up the world beneath it. White sand stretched out in a shallow curve that met water the color of night. Water that looked like oil, viscous and abnormal, leached into the sand of the beach.
The beach north of Midgar had been seen many things. It had been there when Jenova fell from the heavens like a terrible, dying star, and her impact had rocked the world. It had been there when the last of the Cetra departed, and all the Planet grieved and shuddered, a sob given by the land and the sea to mark their passing. And it had felt when Diamond WEAPON had risen from the sea and died on it shores, the instrument of the Planet slain by a group of fighters who would later be everything's saviors.
The Planet remembered the steps and touch of those who walked upon it. Diamond WEAPON had held all the force and majesty of the lifestream, and it had been a welcome, if heavy weight.
But the things that came from the sea now, and stepped upon the beach's shores left footprints that stung like acid, imprints that the sea tried and failed to wash away, that the beach tried and failed to forget. Perversions of nature, dark and malicious creatures that arose from the water and landed from the sky, blotting out the stars with their dark wings, unnatural wings that were constructs of bones and rotting flesh.
They were large, and their weight sunk into the sand, bit and tore at it with harsh claws. There was no end to it, no comprehension of the awful wrong that existed in them.
It was something as eternal and endless as the sea, but maligned in a way that the dark depths of the oceans were not. A malevolent, mindless mass of madness.
And one of them, one creature that sat astride the monstrous winged beasts, human but not human, with silver hair that drank in the light from the moon, commanded them all, speaking to them in their own tongues, awful words never meant to be made by men.
----
It would have been a stretch and more to say that Aeris was happy with the current situation.
Actually, it had to be one of the worst situations that she'd ever been in. The air was thick with hostility and restrained emotion, and it felt like the fight had only heightened what had previously been there. Zackery's breathing was returning to normal after the exertion of the fight, and she could feel the weight of his eyes on her.
He understood that she wasn't his Aeris, but he didn't truly realize it. She wondered if he'd seen the file they'd doubtless shown to Sephiroth. If he knew how she died.
She didn't doubt it. It made sense, to inform Zackery of everything they'd shown Sephiroth, but even then she couldn't be sure how complete that information was, likely more patchwork than anything else. Shinra's ability to include and conceal what the company wished to was something that Reeve had not been able to kill when he took control. Or perhaps, he didn't even want to.
Some silences were companionable, this one was nothing but uncomfortable; something strained and stretched into the air between the members of the group. Reno's eyes flicked around between the various members before the Turk cleared his throat.
"Well. Someone just got their ass handed to them, didn't they?"
The flower girl was barely able to contain her laughter; Elena wasn't nearly so lucky and broke out snickering, and a bare smile stretched across both Vincent and Rude's faces, which was nearly as surprising as the fact that Zack - both Zacks - had added a deeper counterpart to Elena's laughter.
"Yeah, I suppose I did. Here." And he handed the buster sword back to Zack, who took it with a grateful nod and gracefully sheathed it. She wasn't entirely sure how he was able to do that without taking anyone's head off, but he somehow managed. He always did.
"I always knew you'd get good, Spike. Never thought you'd get quite /this/ good, but...well, I never thought I get sucked up by some giant green vacuum years into the future either, so obviously my judgment skills are shot."
Like dawn breaking through cloudy skies, a smile crept onto the blond's face. It was sad how out of place it looked. Of all of them, Aeris thought, Cloud deserved to be able to smile.
And of all of them, Cloud was the one who couldn't. There was too much binding him, too many chains holding all of them down. Sephiroth and Nibelheim; people and places, and Jenova; something that couldn't fall under any category.
It hit her then, sudden and unexpected, and she had no way to counter it. She'd barely thought the name when the voices rose in her head, a blinding cacophony that drowned out all else. It felt like fire and ash and brimstone, and it seared her mind, a burning noise growing in her head; a blind, mad, rush of fury and noise, and she cried out in pain, falling to her knees, only dimly aware that Sephiroth had collapsed, boneless and limp as a corpse, to the floor.
----
Nibelheim was burning, the flames licking the buildings, surmounting higher and higher as voices screamed in Sephiroth's head.
//You have to see! You have to /understand/!//
Burning, and he could feel the heat this time, the awful certainty of it. This was someone's home, this was Cloud's home, and it was burning and it was his fault. He felt a deep and horrible feeling come over him, making his stomach clench and racking his muscles with small tremors. Guilt. He was responsible, and the guilt and weight of that responsibility settled onto him, irrevocable.
//I didn't bring you here so you could wallow in your own fucking guilt! You have to understand!//
The voice ripped at him, a voice that was speaking in a tone too panicked and fast than was normal for it. Because, somehow, he realized what normal for that voice was, because it was familiar, and known.
The winds howled, the flames roared and two hands gripped him by his shoulders and whipped him around, so quickly that he was facing the man before he'd even realized that he'd begun to move.
And once he saw the man before him, met tired eyes that were level with his own and /realized/, Sephiroth was too shocked to move at all.
Green eyes held his, shining with a frantic light that was not all because of the reflections of the flames. The man's form, as tall as he was, was clad in tattered black leather, clothes that had seen many battles. And behind him sliver hair waved in the wind from the burning buildings, hair matted and dull, a strange and sick parody of Sephiroth's own brilliant strands.
"You're..."
The man didn't nod, but something in his eyes changed, as a shadow of an old pride that Sephiroth knew far too well filled them. As if he was aware of his scrutiny, aware how run down and..and /haunted/ he must look.
"..me."
And by the Planet, his eyes were so /tired/, so shadowed, filled with so many ghosts. He'd seen that in their eyes, in Zack's and in Cloud's, but something darker skirted at the edges of this version of himself, something that spoke of untold horrors.
Dark lies and darker secrets, whispering voices in the dark and the soft sound of pages in a library that smelled of age and madness. He heard it then, in his head, a voice he knew to be his own, and a memory of the man before him.
//"An organism that was apparently dead was found in a 2000 year old geological stratum. Professor Gast named the organism Jenova."//
There were very few times in his life where Sephiroth had found himself incapable of speech, of brilliant replies and cutting remarks. But now, as images and /memory/ pressed in, he could find nothing to say.
//Zack's voice cried out at him, anger and disbelief rampant in it, and he heard his own reply, cold and dead. "Traitor. Get out of my way. I'm going to see my mother." And then they were in the reactor, and Zack's body flew backward from the force of his strike, bounced once as it impacted the wall, and was still.//
//"Mom...Tifa...my town...give it back. Give it back!" Dull silver at the edge of his vision and blinding pain. Cloud voice, choked with tears.//
// "Cloud...kill Sephiroth." Zack, so weak he could barely choke out words that reached Sephiroth as he stumbled out of the room, uncaring and untouched. And Cloud looked at him, and there was blood pooling about a hole in his chest; the Masamune was in Cloud's chest. He had put it there, and the pain did not fade from the blond's eyes, but determination crowded in as his hands grasped the blade of the sword, and, blood running down his wrists, he began to lift the sword.//
//The corridors of Shinra headquarters were tinged red with blood, and his vision was off, as if he was watching a bad film recording. He cut down yet another guard, another employee: a woman this time, who had time to scream once, high and shrill and utterly terrified before his sword swept down. She was dead before she hit the floor.//
//Nibelheim, a ghost of a town and a town of ghosts. The library smelled of old memories and secrets as his hand traced across familiar books and remembered watching them all burn.//
//Another time, another woman, in city of light and glass. A holy place, and the woman was praying. He did not belong here, but he swept down like some great and terrible angel, his sword sliding softly through the woman's - Aeris, he realized with a start - flesh. She made no sound as she died and fell forward into Cloud's arms, but Cloud cried out, just once, a sound wrung from his throat by grief and rage. It did not sound human, and when his eyes looked at him, they did not recognize him.//
//Green and white that soothed and burned; the center of the Planet. He was there, and Cloud was there, old and strong and so sad. His eyes spoke of memories that cut through him and he leapt up in the final strike of the Omnislash, light gathering around the tip of the sword with all the brilliance of a falling star. He looked up into that light and finally, finally felt his mind clear. Blessedly sane and /alone/ at last, he watched the star descend and saw nothing else.//
Then, it was over, and Sephiroth felt the awful weight of the memories of things he had yet to do press into him. He'd killed many people, destroyed families and lives and /nations/, but he'd never felt anything that approached this all feeling that pushed at him. It felt as though his ribs were broken, and his heart crushed within his chest. He couldn't breathe, and he knew then that this was not a dream.
"You have to understand." It was strange, hearing his own voice, especially softened by what might have been pity.
"I don't..." He wasn't exactly sure how that sentence ended. I don't understand, I don't know, I don't /want/ to know, I don't want to feel guilty for something I haven't even done yet.
//But you will. If all this had not happened, if Cloud hadn't come back to the past to stop that thing.you would have.// Thoughts and doubt hissed at him like a snake.
"It's not a perfect connection. I don't think that Zack could do it, with his other self. But there's a part of me that isn't her, and the mako runs so strongly in us both. Voices of the planet, singing and sighing and screaming..." His voice trailed off, sing-song and dancing on the borders of something dark and mad.
"Her?" A part of him already knew the answer, felt the truth from the memories of things he hadn't done yet pressing against him, but he wanted to hear him say it.
Somehow, that would make it real.
"She came from the sky. A calamity from the skies, and she was death to the planet. And then they stopped her, but then men ventured where they shouldn't have, and she came back." The green eyes appeared to unfocus for a minute, looking at something far away, a distant horizon.
"Jenova. You were raised to think of her as mother."
And he knew this, he knew he knew this, but somehow he didn't. It was as if his mind and body were disconnected, and his body reacted independently of his thoughts.
//"My mother's name was Jenova. As for my father..what does it matter?"//
"Jenova is my mother? Who..." The other him waited, watching him with a patient, almost bemused expression in his eyes. "...my father?"
"Haven't recalled everything yet, have you? Recalled. Precalled, more accurately, since you can't recall things you haven't done. I've done them, though, haven't I?"
They had said that he had been mad during Meteor. Sephiroth remembered madness, the cold clammy touch of it. He wondered it still held the future him in its grip.
"Don't worry about your father. And I'm not mad, I'm just tired. And it's so hard to think with her here."
His eyes widened in shock, and he sputtered out: "What?!" More like exclaimed, actually. Sephiroth, even now, did not have it in him to sputter.
"I'm you. I know exactly the expression you just had on - the 'I wish they would send someone else to talk to the soldiers who have lost it after a battle.' And I have been through many battles. I am /not/ crazy. I'm tired, and I'm sick of having to spell things out for you. We're running out of time."
Was he really this infuriating? Zack and Cloud, how did they ever stand him? He'd been in his presence for no longer than a few minutes, and he could barely stand himself. Obviously, his companions had a greater depth of tolerance than he did, but Sephiroth knew he was not one to suffer fools and egoists lightly.
He was fairly sure he fell into the latter of the two categories, although nothing was ever certain in life. Maybe he really was an enormous idiot, and no one had bothered to tell him. Stranger things had happened; were happening.
"Running out of time for what?"
Strange, that he hadn't known he could sound so...plaintive, for lack of a better word. Or that he could look quite so exasperated, as if his other self was trying to restrain himself from doing something he would regret later.
"Running out of time, because Jenova's armies are at Midgar's doorstep. And considering how many scouts they killed on the way, and the route they took, you won't have any warning until it's too late. The battle is here, and now, and you /will die/ and whatever the Cetra is trying to accomplish will be useless unless you do something about it." His future self's voice was flat and uncompromising, laying out the facts as they were, cold and true.
"Do you want me to draw you a diagram?" A mocking hint glittered in his eyes. "They will strike first from the north...they came in from the sea, and some from the sky. They will use as strange sort of stealth, using the mass of monsters to disguise those that will sneak into the slums and tunnels to infiltrate the city. They will try to hold the sky as well...dark wings under dark clouds...the cries of the storm."
//And there he goes. There I go. Whichever.//
"Numbers?" If he was going to have to put up with a conversation with himself when he wasn't entirely sure that one or both participants were entirely sane, he may as well get something worthwhile out of it.
" A mass. Thousands, at least. Ten of thousands, maybe more. They are a mass, and she will direct them all through me, and they will be legion."
"You're coming?"
His other self gave him a look that spoke volumes of scorn. "No, Hojo's leading the assault wearing a bright pink uniform. Have you listened to me at all? Of course I'm leading the attack. She's leading the attack through me."
"I don't remember being so inclined toward humor."
The older him rolled his eyes, something Sephiroth couldn't remember ever really doing either. "You spend so much time in a dark corner of your mind and see if you don't develop a bit of Zack."
"That's an unusual coping mechanism."
"Shut up." The man spat at him. "Don't you understand? The battle's coming to Midgar. Fighting in a densely populated city - the casualties could be enormous. And she's coming. She's going to make me...She'll make me hurt him."
There was never a doubt in Sephiroth's mind who 'him' was, and he bit back the stirrings of some strange jealously. There were no words for how crazy it would be, to feel jealous at anything this sad shadow of himself had.
Something must have shown in his face, because the green of the man's eyes hardened, and they looked like cold stones in the light from the fires of the town.
"Don't even think it. I know how selfish you are, how selfish I am. But don't even think it. You've gotten the memories of what I did, what you /will do/. Those alone should let you know how much that will hurt him."
Sephiroth bristled at the order, even coming from himself. He managed to keep a snarl out of his voice, although he wasn't quite sure how, as he shot back: "You've already hurt him more than I ever could. So don't worry about anything on that front. Your claim is quite clear."
"You don't have time for this."
He let a smile show, enjoying how the irritation crept into the face of his other self. "Just making a point."
It was only in hindsight that Sephiroth realized that that was the moment when he'd crossed the line. Obviously, his future self was not him, and the territory of how far was too far was cut with different boundaries. As it was, he'd barely registered that his future self had begun to move before the motion was completed and he found his throat encased in a grip stronger than steel.
"Don't." The word was ice to the fire around them, spoken so flatly, but with so much emotion within it that it was terrifying. One word, and all the warning within it he needed to give.
"Go back now. And try not to get everyone killed." And the man was right; he did sound tired, deathly so. The flames of Nibelheim roared up, but Sephiroth felt nothing but the darkness that overtook him.
----
He'd been worried when Sephiroth collapsed, and he'd been terrified when Aeris followed suit. Rushing over to her, Zack vaguely recognized the reactions of the others in the room: Vincent motioned to the Turks, who immediately spread out to circle the group, weapons drawn; his past counterpart had moved to Sephiroth's side, and so had Cloud, a fact that was somehow disturbing. If he weren't quite so occupied, Zack would worry about it more fully.
"Aeris? Come on, Aeris, don't do this." He shook her slightly, and her head fell to the side with the limp motions of a dead thing. Her pulse was a strong staccato underneath his fingers, but Zack had seen his share and more of death. More often than not they burned the corpses after a battle, but sometimes they were able to collect the dead, to bury and mourn, and privately, Zack thought that that was worse. The smell of the burning was horrible, but the boneless motions of the ranks of corpses was worse.
Aeris had that look, that dead look, and it petrified him. So many dead, and he couldn't remember faces, but it took so little effort to make those memories the bodies of people he cared about.
"Aeris?" She stirred, the faint and feeble motions of a wounded animal, something small and scared, before her eyes opened, the green glassy and unfocused.
"Hey. Come on, Aeris. Just follow the Zack-hand. It's not a bad hand to look at, after all, although the glove could use some work." Maybe it was the babble, or the presence of his frantically waving hand, but Aeris's eyes focused on his own. The look in them was panicked, terrified.
"Aeris?" Zack heard the concern in his voice and tried not to wince. He really was spread thin, worrying about too many people, caring about too many people.
//Not like I'd have it any other way.//
That was true, he knew. Sephiroth was formed of duty, and Cloud had selfless, self-sacrificing tendencies that made him wonder if the boy was trying to kill him, and Zack cared.
"So loud, and so /many/. Zack, they were so scared, and the Planet was so loud, and so angry. Terrified and hurt in its rage, so /strong/."
"I thought you didn't hear it that much, anymore."
"Only sometimes. When it's hurting, or when she's there." Her hands were spread out against the fabric of her dress like the pale skeletons of birds, and her gaze left his, unfocused again, to wander over to Cloud. "Is Sephiroth alright?"
There was a thought, and the worry he'd held back with worry for Aeris sprang to life. "I don't know, I don't see why the idiot would collapse in the first place. Why did you, anyway? What did they have to say that was so important?"
She held a hand to her temple and shook her head slightly. "I don't know. It's like hearing a thousand voices at once, all screaming for attention. I can't puzzle them out yet, just the sense of urgency, and terror."
And that was never really a good thing, you know, the planet crying out in fear and anger. Great. Just great. Just like the fact that Cloud was crouched down by Sephiroth, supporting him as the white-haired man struggled back into awareness.
//If he knew what he was doing, he'd probably stop, but everyone's so worried, and everything's moving so fast.//
Cloud wasn't naïve, not after all he had been through, but in some areas of the world he still didn't have a clue, Zack reflected as he strode over to the group of three.
Strange, but if he didn't look to closely, or think about it too much, it could almost be the three of them years ago, during the war, still fighting and struggling and watching men die, but happier nonetheless.
"Spike. How is he?" Cloud looked up on his approach, eyes the murky blue of troubled waters.
"He's coming to now." Glancing down and back up at Zack, something obviously clicked in the blond's mind, because he immediately began to struggle to his feet, trying to draw his composure about him the remnants of a tattered cloak, his movements as skittish as those of a new born chocobo.
And then Sephiroth's gloved hand grabbed his arm, and he stopped. Froze, and Zack could barely see him breathe.
The white-haired man's voice was as confused as the look in his eyes, the green cloudy enough that they looked more like Aeris's eyes than anything else.
"They're coming."
And obviously, today was the day of cryptic messages from fainting people, and no one had bothered to send Zack the memo.
"Who?"
"Legion." His eyes focused, and he spat out the word like the worst of curses.
"Legion. Wonderful. Because that helps. Now, can you let go of Spike and stand up, or do we need to find you a walker, Seph?" Zack spat out, and caught the quirk of a smile that Zackery sent him from the other side of Sephiroth; a secret message, congratulations on handling the man and the situation properly.
"Cloud?" Vincent's voice broke into the conversation of words and gestures, and the blond glanced up, meeting his friend's red eyes.
"There's a messenger here from Reeve and Scarlet. They need to see you, see all of us, and it is urgent, if the half-exhausted state of the messenger is any indication."
Sometimes, Zack wished he could have the ability to say so little and make everyone listen to every word, and follow whatever he said. Although, if it meant wearing a claw and giving a demon a perpetual piggyback ride, it may not be worth it.
Sighing, Zack stood up, hauling Cloud the remaining distance to his feet and letting Sephiroth struggle up alone, in silence. It was only when they'd started out down the corridor, Cloud leading, speaking with the messenger in tense, hurried tones and the Valentine and the Turks following that he spoke to Sephiroth.
"Damn it. And just when I needed to talk to the resident asshole. You're really hard to get alone, you know that, Sephiroth?" Emotions flittered across the tall man's face before being carefully shuttered away, compartmentalized to deal with later.
"Don't bother." His tone was as dry as old parchment. "I've probably already been told most of what you wanted to say."
"I doubt it." Zack responded, because Seph was Seph, and there was very little chance that Seph would ever step back and reflect on how he was fucking up.
//Whether that's because he does fuck up so little, or because it's hard to see with both his head and a stick up his ass, I fear I will never know.//
"You'd be surprised. He's influenced by you, after all, and he picked up on it right away." The man moved quickly away, and Zack couldn't see his eyes or try to interpret his face, but the words alone were more than enough to put him on guard. Catching Zackery's glance, he saw a confused expression that surely echoed his own. It was disturbing, being here with his past self like this. Like constantly looking into a mirror, except no mirror looked at your girlfriend like that; if Zackery were anyone else, Zack would probably have threatened violence, but punching himself in the face looked like a stupid idea from any angle.
"Seph, I'm not sure if you're trying to be funny or if you hit your head upon arriving at the floor." Zackery mused, digging one hand through his bangs. "I suppose either is likely, considering your hard, thick, blockheaded skull did hit the floor really hard."
"Would you like to go for one more insult in there?" Sephiroth asked, keeping his eyes forward, on Cloud's back before them.
"No, I think I'm happy with what I've got." Zackery replied, and smiled.
----
It wasn't the Highwind, that was for sure. The aircraft didn't fly as much as lumbered through the sky, a construction of metal that felt like it would surely give at any moment. Trying to look anywhere but the sky, Yuffie forced the contents of her stomach back down into her stomach yet once more.
//I am Yuffie Kisaragi. I am the heir to the lands of Wutai, and general of the Wutai forces in this war. I fought side by side with the strongest fighters in the world. I...//
A sudden gust of wind made the plane sway. As they approached Midgar, it felt like the storm was getting worse and worse.
//...I will /not/ throw up.//
She may have been one of the finest fighters in Wutai, keen disciple of the lands ancient arts, but she had never mastered the art of getting her stomach to listen to her brain.
//Think ground. Think stable, unmoving ground. Be one with the ground. Become the ground. You are not flying. You are not moving. Groundgroundgroundground.//
The plane hit a particularly bad patch of air and shuddered, and her stomach followed suit; it was only through extreme self-discipline that she managed to keep her rations of this morning where they belonged. They'd tasted bad enough going down, she didn't want to reflect on how they'd taste coming back up.
"General Kisaragi? Sir?" One of the pilot's lackey's came up to her, hesitation and urgency warring in his frame.
"Yeah?" Yuffie winced at her response. She tried to be dignified and regal and impressive, really she did, but then she got worried and it seemed like all that disappeared and she was sixteen again.
Luckily, the man appeared not to notice, or not to care. "We're coming up on Midgar.but Sir, you've got to see this."
The man motioned her to follow him as he headed toward the flight cabin, and she glared at the stiff creases in the back of his uniform as she did so.
"Is this a good something I've got to see or a bad something I've got...to....see..."
There really wasn't any need for the man to answer that, because the pilot's cabin wasn't that far away, and the window before them told her more than she wanted to know.
At first, she'd almost thought it was some flood, but there was simply to way the ocean could creep this far south. And the water was /crawling/, and closer inspection revealed it wasn't really water at all, but a sea of monsters spread below them, moving toward Midgar. In the sky to the around them, still far off, the shapes of winged monsters cluttered the air.
"Da-chao gods save us, because I think we're fucked. How many soldiers are on board?"
The man stammered at bit before composing himself enough to answer. "There are the men you brought with you from Wutai, and about a dozen thirds, and half as many of the second class. Mostly SOLDIERS that were being transported from one front to another, and just layovering in Midgar."
Not enough. Not nearly enough if they were attacked by the forces up there.
"Call Highwind and tell him Midgar is in immediate need of aerial support. Jenova's brought out the big guns. And I want anyone able to fight here as of, oh, now. We've gotten this far because of cover from the storm, but that won't hold forever."
The man ran off, shouting, as another of the young officers was fiddling furiously with a communicator, Yuffie turned to him.
"Well?"
"I've reached Captain Highwind, Sir, but he says the storm's keeping him grounded."
//Grounded?! I'll show the old man grounded.//
"Give me that." And the Wutain general snatched the microphone from the man's hand.
"Cid. You better be listening, you hear me? Midgar needs backup as of yesterday."
Cid's voice emerged from crackle over the speaker. "Don't give me that, brat. I know, Scarlet's already told us to prepare for something. But bitch didn't tell us when, and we don't have enough warning, not with this fucking storm keeping everyone grounded."
"You not being here is not an option. Get anyone out here - Fort Condor, that pathetic excuse for a military base you have near Chocobo Ranch - /anyone/!"
For moments there was only the static, and the technician reached to fiddle with the settings, obviously afraid the transmission had been cut, before Cid's voice emanated from the speaker once more.
"I've already told you, the storm - "
There was a time and place for dealing with Cid's whining, and this was not it. "Cid, I am on a plane. In a storm. I am two seconds away from digging my stomach out with the Conformer, before the damned thing and this damned place kill me. If don't care if it's the end of the world, I need some aerial support and I need it now, and if I don't get it, Leviathan help me, I will wait until I see you and let my motion sickness have its evil way with any upholstery on the Highwind. Is that clear?"
"Brat. I'll see what I can do." The connection cut off, and the technician was staring at her with something akin to awe in his eyes.
"Raise connection to Midgar; make sure they know what's coming under cover of the storm." The technician nodded and scrambled to comply, hands flying over the dials and keyboard with frantic precision.
The man she'd spoken to before came into the cabin, his voice heralded by the sound of many booted footsteps. "Sir? The men are here."
And they were. Personally, Yuffie never understood SOLDIERS. It was one thing to train and perfect the arts of fighting as her people did, and another thing entirely to warp and mutate your body to be able to become a more ideal fighter.
It must have, she reflected, taken so much change to twist Cloud from the almost painfully shy kid that you could still see sometimes, the hints of him at the edges that the war hadn't killed yet, into the fighter, the machine that the men called the General.
And no matter how much they needed him, needed them all, there was something wrong about all of it.
"I'm sure that, since you all can see the window, there's no need for me to explain why I called you all up here."
The men didn't nod or reply, but the determination and understanding flitted through their faces, one after another, the realization of a coming battle, like sailors before a storm.
"The ship has some weapons capability, but it wasn't built for that. We're going to have to rely on ourselves here, to get us to Midgar where we can aid the forces there."
Noise outside, great drums in the heavens, and she couldn't tell if it was the distant crow of lightning or the roar of some mad beast.
"It's a bad situation, I won't lie to you. We're on a plane, in the middle of a storm, and we're surrounded by monsters. There's very little in this situation that is good, and very much that is bad. But that's okay. Because Hojo decided to bring the war here. Everyone here has watched towns burn, and people's lives destroyed. Some of you may even have been there when they took Bone Village. I was. And he wants to do that again, to Midgar.
"But that doesn't matter. What we did or did not do in the past doesn't matter right now. Hojo's brought the fight to Midgar, and I think it's time we showed that prick what happens when he pisses us off. I want everyone ready - long range weapons and materia attacks first, and only attack the ones that notice the plane. Be ready to hit anything that comes within short range attacks, though. Two SOLDIERS - two third class - are to stay down here, with the pilots, to guard against attacks that try to take out the pilot's cabin. Everyone else, on the deck."
The Conformer gleamed in the dim fluorescent lights as she raised the weapon over her head, materia glowing purple and green and red.
"He wanted a fight. We're going to give him one."
The cry that rang up from the SOLDIERS and from her own fighters echoed the roar of thunder and monstrous rage from outside, and try as she might, Yuffie couldn't tell which was which.
----
Author's notes -
1. By using more game dialogue, I can think about what I write /less/. It's a clever ploy. Don't tell anyone.
2. I wanted to get Sephiroth remembering everything he did right and I tried really hard and I'm still not sure how it came out, so blame him. It's all his fault.
3. The quote that precedes this chapter is from Hellboy, a comic I'm fond of. I don't remember which issue, but the context is a mermaid speaking after all the souls imprisoned in the deep are set free in the form of glowing white birds. In the old fairy tales, mermaids lived for 300 years and then became sea foam when they died. Right. Shutting up now.
----
Xehorista Tora
----
Chapter Eight
----
"Beautiful. When I die, all I will be is foam on the waves...No. Even less than that now."
- Hellboy
----
They came from the sea.
The sky above the sea was covered in patchy clouds, dark thunderheads that grew quickly with the promise of storm. The moon's light slipped in through the gaps in the clouds, the pale glow lighting up the world beneath it. White sand stretched out in a shallow curve that met water the color of night. Water that looked like oil, viscous and abnormal, leached into the sand of the beach.
The beach north of Midgar had been seen many things. It had been there when Jenova fell from the heavens like a terrible, dying star, and her impact had rocked the world. It had been there when the last of the Cetra departed, and all the Planet grieved and shuddered, a sob given by the land and the sea to mark their passing. And it had felt when Diamond WEAPON had risen from the sea and died on it shores, the instrument of the Planet slain by a group of fighters who would later be everything's saviors.
The Planet remembered the steps and touch of those who walked upon it. Diamond WEAPON had held all the force and majesty of the lifestream, and it had been a welcome, if heavy weight.
But the things that came from the sea now, and stepped upon the beach's shores left footprints that stung like acid, imprints that the sea tried and failed to wash away, that the beach tried and failed to forget. Perversions of nature, dark and malicious creatures that arose from the water and landed from the sky, blotting out the stars with their dark wings, unnatural wings that were constructs of bones and rotting flesh.
They were large, and their weight sunk into the sand, bit and tore at it with harsh claws. There was no end to it, no comprehension of the awful wrong that existed in them.
It was something as eternal and endless as the sea, but maligned in a way that the dark depths of the oceans were not. A malevolent, mindless mass of madness.
And one of them, one creature that sat astride the monstrous winged beasts, human but not human, with silver hair that drank in the light from the moon, commanded them all, speaking to them in their own tongues, awful words never meant to be made by men.
----
It would have been a stretch and more to say that Aeris was happy with the current situation.
Actually, it had to be one of the worst situations that she'd ever been in. The air was thick with hostility and restrained emotion, and it felt like the fight had only heightened what had previously been there. Zackery's breathing was returning to normal after the exertion of the fight, and she could feel the weight of his eyes on her.
He understood that she wasn't his Aeris, but he didn't truly realize it. She wondered if he'd seen the file they'd doubtless shown to Sephiroth. If he knew how she died.
She didn't doubt it. It made sense, to inform Zackery of everything they'd shown Sephiroth, but even then she couldn't be sure how complete that information was, likely more patchwork than anything else. Shinra's ability to include and conceal what the company wished to was something that Reeve had not been able to kill when he took control. Or perhaps, he didn't even want to.
Some silences were companionable, this one was nothing but uncomfortable; something strained and stretched into the air between the members of the group. Reno's eyes flicked around between the various members before the Turk cleared his throat.
"Well. Someone just got their ass handed to them, didn't they?"
The flower girl was barely able to contain her laughter; Elena wasn't nearly so lucky and broke out snickering, and a bare smile stretched across both Vincent and Rude's faces, which was nearly as surprising as the fact that Zack - both Zacks - had added a deeper counterpart to Elena's laughter.
"Yeah, I suppose I did. Here." And he handed the buster sword back to Zack, who took it with a grateful nod and gracefully sheathed it. She wasn't entirely sure how he was able to do that without taking anyone's head off, but he somehow managed. He always did.
"I always knew you'd get good, Spike. Never thought you'd get quite /this/ good, but...well, I never thought I get sucked up by some giant green vacuum years into the future either, so obviously my judgment skills are shot."
Like dawn breaking through cloudy skies, a smile crept onto the blond's face. It was sad how out of place it looked. Of all of them, Aeris thought, Cloud deserved to be able to smile.
And of all of them, Cloud was the one who couldn't. There was too much binding him, too many chains holding all of them down. Sephiroth and Nibelheim; people and places, and Jenova; something that couldn't fall under any category.
It hit her then, sudden and unexpected, and she had no way to counter it. She'd barely thought the name when the voices rose in her head, a blinding cacophony that drowned out all else. It felt like fire and ash and brimstone, and it seared her mind, a burning noise growing in her head; a blind, mad, rush of fury and noise, and she cried out in pain, falling to her knees, only dimly aware that Sephiroth had collapsed, boneless and limp as a corpse, to the floor.
----
Nibelheim was burning, the flames licking the buildings, surmounting higher and higher as voices screamed in Sephiroth's head.
//You have to see! You have to /understand/!//
Burning, and he could feel the heat this time, the awful certainty of it. This was someone's home, this was Cloud's home, and it was burning and it was his fault. He felt a deep and horrible feeling come over him, making his stomach clench and racking his muscles with small tremors. Guilt. He was responsible, and the guilt and weight of that responsibility settled onto him, irrevocable.
//I didn't bring you here so you could wallow in your own fucking guilt! You have to understand!//
The voice ripped at him, a voice that was speaking in a tone too panicked and fast than was normal for it. Because, somehow, he realized what normal for that voice was, because it was familiar, and known.
The winds howled, the flames roared and two hands gripped him by his shoulders and whipped him around, so quickly that he was facing the man before he'd even realized that he'd begun to move.
And once he saw the man before him, met tired eyes that were level with his own and /realized/, Sephiroth was too shocked to move at all.
Green eyes held his, shining with a frantic light that was not all because of the reflections of the flames. The man's form, as tall as he was, was clad in tattered black leather, clothes that had seen many battles. And behind him sliver hair waved in the wind from the burning buildings, hair matted and dull, a strange and sick parody of Sephiroth's own brilliant strands.
"You're..."
The man didn't nod, but something in his eyes changed, as a shadow of an old pride that Sephiroth knew far too well filled them. As if he was aware of his scrutiny, aware how run down and..and /haunted/ he must look.
"..me."
And by the Planet, his eyes were so /tired/, so shadowed, filled with so many ghosts. He'd seen that in their eyes, in Zack's and in Cloud's, but something darker skirted at the edges of this version of himself, something that spoke of untold horrors.
Dark lies and darker secrets, whispering voices in the dark and the soft sound of pages in a library that smelled of age and madness. He heard it then, in his head, a voice he knew to be his own, and a memory of the man before him.
//"An organism that was apparently dead was found in a 2000 year old geological stratum. Professor Gast named the organism Jenova."//
There were very few times in his life where Sephiroth had found himself incapable of speech, of brilliant replies and cutting remarks. But now, as images and /memory/ pressed in, he could find nothing to say.
//Zack's voice cried out at him, anger and disbelief rampant in it, and he heard his own reply, cold and dead. "Traitor. Get out of my way. I'm going to see my mother." And then they were in the reactor, and Zack's body flew backward from the force of his strike, bounced once as it impacted the wall, and was still.//
//"Mom...Tifa...my town...give it back. Give it back!" Dull silver at the edge of his vision and blinding pain. Cloud voice, choked with tears.//
// "Cloud...kill Sephiroth." Zack, so weak he could barely choke out words that reached Sephiroth as he stumbled out of the room, uncaring and untouched. And Cloud looked at him, and there was blood pooling about a hole in his chest; the Masamune was in Cloud's chest. He had put it there, and the pain did not fade from the blond's eyes, but determination crowded in as his hands grasped the blade of the sword, and, blood running down his wrists, he began to lift the sword.//
//The corridors of Shinra headquarters were tinged red with blood, and his vision was off, as if he was watching a bad film recording. He cut down yet another guard, another employee: a woman this time, who had time to scream once, high and shrill and utterly terrified before his sword swept down. She was dead before she hit the floor.//
//Nibelheim, a ghost of a town and a town of ghosts. The library smelled of old memories and secrets as his hand traced across familiar books and remembered watching them all burn.//
//Another time, another woman, in city of light and glass. A holy place, and the woman was praying. He did not belong here, but he swept down like some great and terrible angel, his sword sliding softly through the woman's - Aeris, he realized with a start - flesh. She made no sound as she died and fell forward into Cloud's arms, but Cloud cried out, just once, a sound wrung from his throat by grief and rage. It did not sound human, and when his eyes looked at him, they did not recognize him.//
//Green and white that soothed and burned; the center of the Planet. He was there, and Cloud was there, old and strong and so sad. His eyes spoke of memories that cut through him and he leapt up in the final strike of the Omnislash, light gathering around the tip of the sword with all the brilliance of a falling star. He looked up into that light and finally, finally felt his mind clear. Blessedly sane and /alone/ at last, he watched the star descend and saw nothing else.//
Then, it was over, and Sephiroth felt the awful weight of the memories of things he had yet to do press into him. He'd killed many people, destroyed families and lives and /nations/, but he'd never felt anything that approached this all feeling that pushed at him. It felt as though his ribs were broken, and his heart crushed within his chest. He couldn't breathe, and he knew then that this was not a dream.
"You have to understand." It was strange, hearing his own voice, especially softened by what might have been pity.
"I don't..." He wasn't exactly sure how that sentence ended. I don't understand, I don't know, I don't /want/ to know, I don't want to feel guilty for something I haven't even done yet.
//But you will. If all this had not happened, if Cloud hadn't come back to the past to stop that thing.you would have.// Thoughts and doubt hissed at him like a snake.
"It's not a perfect connection. I don't think that Zack could do it, with his other self. But there's a part of me that isn't her, and the mako runs so strongly in us both. Voices of the planet, singing and sighing and screaming..." His voice trailed off, sing-song and dancing on the borders of something dark and mad.
"Her?" A part of him already knew the answer, felt the truth from the memories of things he hadn't done yet pressing against him, but he wanted to hear him say it.
Somehow, that would make it real.
"She came from the sky. A calamity from the skies, and she was death to the planet. And then they stopped her, but then men ventured where they shouldn't have, and she came back." The green eyes appeared to unfocus for a minute, looking at something far away, a distant horizon.
"Jenova. You were raised to think of her as mother."
And he knew this, he knew he knew this, but somehow he didn't. It was as if his mind and body were disconnected, and his body reacted independently of his thoughts.
//"My mother's name was Jenova. As for my father..what does it matter?"//
"Jenova is my mother? Who..." The other him waited, watching him with a patient, almost bemused expression in his eyes. "...my father?"
"Haven't recalled everything yet, have you? Recalled. Precalled, more accurately, since you can't recall things you haven't done. I've done them, though, haven't I?"
They had said that he had been mad during Meteor. Sephiroth remembered madness, the cold clammy touch of it. He wondered it still held the future him in its grip.
"Don't worry about your father. And I'm not mad, I'm just tired. And it's so hard to think with her here."
His eyes widened in shock, and he sputtered out: "What?!" More like exclaimed, actually. Sephiroth, even now, did not have it in him to sputter.
"I'm you. I know exactly the expression you just had on - the 'I wish they would send someone else to talk to the soldiers who have lost it after a battle.' And I have been through many battles. I am /not/ crazy. I'm tired, and I'm sick of having to spell things out for you. We're running out of time."
Was he really this infuriating? Zack and Cloud, how did they ever stand him? He'd been in his presence for no longer than a few minutes, and he could barely stand himself. Obviously, his companions had a greater depth of tolerance than he did, but Sephiroth knew he was not one to suffer fools and egoists lightly.
He was fairly sure he fell into the latter of the two categories, although nothing was ever certain in life. Maybe he really was an enormous idiot, and no one had bothered to tell him. Stranger things had happened; were happening.
"Running out of time for what?"
Strange, that he hadn't known he could sound so...plaintive, for lack of a better word. Or that he could look quite so exasperated, as if his other self was trying to restrain himself from doing something he would regret later.
"Running out of time, because Jenova's armies are at Midgar's doorstep. And considering how many scouts they killed on the way, and the route they took, you won't have any warning until it's too late. The battle is here, and now, and you /will die/ and whatever the Cetra is trying to accomplish will be useless unless you do something about it." His future self's voice was flat and uncompromising, laying out the facts as they were, cold and true.
"Do you want me to draw you a diagram?" A mocking hint glittered in his eyes. "They will strike first from the north...they came in from the sea, and some from the sky. They will use as strange sort of stealth, using the mass of monsters to disguise those that will sneak into the slums and tunnels to infiltrate the city. They will try to hold the sky as well...dark wings under dark clouds...the cries of the storm."
//And there he goes. There I go. Whichever.//
"Numbers?" If he was going to have to put up with a conversation with himself when he wasn't entirely sure that one or both participants were entirely sane, he may as well get something worthwhile out of it.
" A mass. Thousands, at least. Ten of thousands, maybe more. They are a mass, and she will direct them all through me, and they will be legion."
"You're coming?"
His other self gave him a look that spoke volumes of scorn. "No, Hojo's leading the assault wearing a bright pink uniform. Have you listened to me at all? Of course I'm leading the attack. She's leading the attack through me."
"I don't remember being so inclined toward humor."
The older him rolled his eyes, something Sephiroth couldn't remember ever really doing either. "You spend so much time in a dark corner of your mind and see if you don't develop a bit of Zack."
"That's an unusual coping mechanism."
"Shut up." The man spat at him. "Don't you understand? The battle's coming to Midgar. Fighting in a densely populated city - the casualties could be enormous. And she's coming. She's going to make me...She'll make me hurt him."
There was never a doubt in Sephiroth's mind who 'him' was, and he bit back the stirrings of some strange jealously. There were no words for how crazy it would be, to feel jealous at anything this sad shadow of himself had.
Something must have shown in his face, because the green of the man's eyes hardened, and they looked like cold stones in the light from the fires of the town.
"Don't even think it. I know how selfish you are, how selfish I am. But don't even think it. You've gotten the memories of what I did, what you /will do/. Those alone should let you know how much that will hurt him."
Sephiroth bristled at the order, even coming from himself. He managed to keep a snarl out of his voice, although he wasn't quite sure how, as he shot back: "You've already hurt him more than I ever could. So don't worry about anything on that front. Your claim is quite clear."
"You don't have time for this."
He let a smile show, enjoying how the irritation crept into the face of his other self. "Just making a point."
It was only in hindsight that Sephiroth realized that that was the moment when he'd crossed the line. Obviously, his future self was not him, and the territory of how far was too far was cut with different boundaries. As it was, he'd barely registered that his future self had begun to move before the motion was completed and he found his throat encased in a grip stronger than steel.
"Don't." The word was ice to the fire around them, spoken so flatly, but with so much emotion within it that it was terrifying. One word, and all the warning within it he needed to give.
"Go back now. And try not to get everyone killed." And the man was right; he did sound tired, deathly so. The flames of Nibelheim roared up, but Sephiroth felt nothing but the darkness that overtook him.
----
He'd been worried when Sephiroth collapsed, and he'd been terrified when Aeris followed suit. Rushing over to her, Zack vaguely recognized the reactions of the others in the room: Vincent motioned to the Turks, who immediately spread out to circle the group, weapons drawn; his past counterpart had moved to Sephiroth's side, and so had Cloud, a fact that was somehow disturbing. If he weren't quite so occupied, Zack would worry about it more fully.
"Aeris? Come on, Aeris, don't do this." He shook her slightly, and her head fell to the side with the limp motions of a dead thing. Her pulse was a strong staccato underneath his fingers, but Zack had seen his share and more of death. More often than not they burned the corpses after a battle, but sometimes they were able to collect the dead, to bury and mourn, and privately, Zack thought that that was worse. The smell of the burning was horrible, but the boneless motions of the ranks of corpses was worse.
Aeris had that look, that dead look, and it petrified him. So many dead, and he couldn't remember faces, but it took so little effort to make those memories the bodies of people he cared about.
"Aeris?" She stirred, the faint and feeble motions of a wounded animal, something small and scared, before her eyes opened, the green glassy and unfocused.
"Hey. Come on, Aeris. Just follow the Zack-hand. It's not a bad hand to look at, after all, although the glove could use some work." Maybe it was the babble, or the presence of his frantically waving hand, but Aeris's eyes focused on his own. The look in them was panicked, terrified.
"Aeris?" Zack heard the concern in his voice and tried not to wince. He really was spread thin, worrying about too many people, caring about too many people.
//Not like I'd have it any other way.//
That was true, he knew. Sephiroth was formed of duty, and Cloud had selfless, self-sacrificing tendencies that made him wonder if the boy was trying to kill him, and Zack cared.
"So loud, and so /many/. Zack, they were so scared, and the Planet was so loud, and so angry. Terrified and hurt in its rage, so /strong/."
"I thought you didn't hear it that much, anymore."
"Only sometimes. When it's hurting, or when she's there." Her hands were spread out against the fabric of her dress like the pale skeletons of birds, and her gaze left his, unfocused again, to wander over to Cloud. "Is Sephiroth alright?"
There was a thought, and the worry he'd held back with worry for Aeris sprang to life. "I don't know, I don't see why the idiot would collapse in the first place. Why did you, anyway? What did they have to say that was so important?"
She held a hand to her temple and shook her head slightly. "I don't know. It's like hearing a thousand voices at once, all screaming for attention. I can't puzzle them out yet, just the sense of urgency, and terror."
And that was never really a good thing, you know, the planet crying out in fear and anger. Great. Just great. Just like the fact that Cloud was crouched down by Sephiroth, supporting him as the white-haired man struggled back into awareness.
//If he knew what he was doing, he'd probably stop, but everyone's so worried, and everything's moving so fast.//
Cloud wasn't naïve, not after all he had been through, but in some areas of the world he still didn't have a clue, Zack reflected as he strode over to the group of three.
Strange, but if he didn't look to closely, or think about it too much, it could almost be the three of them years ago, during the war, still fighting and struggling and watching men die, but happier nonetheless.
"Spike. How is he?" Cloud looked up on his approach, eyes the murky blue of troubled waters.
"He's coming to now." Glancing down and back up at Zack, something obviously clicked in the blond's mind, because he immediately began to struggle to his feet, trying to draw his composure about him the remnants of a tattered cloak, his movements as skittish as those of a new born chocobo.
And then Sephiroth's gloved hand grabbed his arm, and he stopped. Froze, and Zack could barely see him breathe.
The white-haired man's voice was as confused as the look in his eyes, the green cloudy enough that they looked more like Aeris's eyes than anything else.
"They're coming."
And obviously, today was the day of cryptic messages from fainting people, and no one had bothered to send Zack the memo.
"Who?"
"Legion." His eyes focused, and he spat out the word like the worst of curses.
"Legion. Wonderful. Because that helps. Now, can you let go of Spike and stand up, or do we need to find you a walker, Seph?" Zack spat out, and caught the quirk of a smile that Zackery sent him from the other side of Sephiroth; a secret message, congratulations on handling the man and the situation properly.
"Cloud?" Vincent's voice broke into the conversation of words and gestures, and the blond glanced up, meeting his friend's red eyes.
"There's a messenger here from Reeve and Scarlet. They need to see you, see all of us, and it is urgent, if the half-exhausted state of the messenger is any indication."
Sometimes, Zack wished he could have the ability to say so little and make everyone listen to every word, and follow whatever he said. Although, if it meant wearing a claw and giving a demon a perpetual piggyback ride, it may not be worth it.
Sighing, Zack stood up, hauling Cloud the remaining distance to his feet and letting Sephiroth struggle up alone, in silence. It was only when they'd started out down the corridor, Cloud leading, speaking with the messenger in tense, hurried tones and the Valentine and the Turks following that he spoke to Sephiroth.
"Damn it. And just when I needed to talk to the resident asshole. You're really hard to get alone, you know that, Sephiroth?" Emotions flittered across the tall man's face before being carefully shuttered away, compartmentalized to deal with later.
"Don't bother." His tone was as dry as old parchment. "I've probably already been told most of what you wanted to say."
"I doubt it." Zack responded, because Seph was Seph, and there was very little chance that Seph would ever step back and reflect on how he was fucking up.
//Whether that's because he does fuck up so little, or because it's hard to see with both his head and a stick up his ass, I fear I will never know.//
"You'd be surprised. He's influenced by you, after all, and he picked up on it right away." The man moved quickly away, and Zack couldn't see his eyes or try to interpret his face, but the words alone were more than enough to put him on guard. Catching Zackery's glance, he saw a confused expression that surely echoed his own. It was disturbing, being here with his past self like this. Like constantly looking into a mirror, except no mirror looked at your girlfriend like that; if Zackery were anyone else, Zack would probably have threatened violence, but punching himself in the face looked like a stupid idea from any angle.
"Seph, I'm not sure if you're trying to be funny or if you hit your head upon arriving at the floor." Zackery mused, digging one hand through his bangs. "I suppose either is likely, considering your hard, thick, blockheaded skull did hit the floor really hard."
"Would you like to go for one more insult in there?" Sephiroth asked, keeping his eyes forward, on Cloud's back before them.
"No, I think I'm happy with what I've got." Zackery replied, and smiled.
----
It wasn't the Highwind, that was for sure. The aircraft didn't fly as much as lumbered through the sky, a construction of metal that felt like it would surely give at any moment. Trying to look anywhere but the sky, Yuffie forced the contents of her stomach back down into her stomach yet once more.
//I am Yuffie Kisaragi. I am the heir to the lands of Wutai, and general of the Wutai forces in this war. I fought side by side with the strongest fighters in the world. I...//
A sudden gust of wind made the plane sway. As they approached Midgar, it felt like the storm was getting worse and worse.
//...I will /not/ throw up.//
She may have been one of the finest fighters in Wutai, keen disciple of the lands ancient arts, but she had never mastered the art of getting her stomach to listen to her brain.
//Think ground. Think stable, unmoving ground. Be one with the ground. Become the ground. You are not flying. You are not moving. Groundgroundgroundground.//
The plane hit a particularly bad patch of air and shuddered, and her stomach followed suit; it was only through extreme self-discipline that she managed to keep her rations of this morning where they belonged. They'd tasted bad enough going down, she didn't want to reflect on how they'd taste coming back up.
"General Kisaragi? Sir?" One of the pilot's lackey's came up to her, hesitation and urgency warring in his frame.
"Yeah?" Yuffie winced at her response. She tried to be dignified and regal and impressive, really she did, but then she got worried and it seemed like all that disappeared and she was sixteen again.
Luckily, the man appeared not to notice, or not to care. "We're coming up on Midgar.but Sir, you've got to see this."
The man motioned her to follow him as he headed toward the flight cabin, and she glared at the stiff creases in the back of his uniform as she did so.
"Is this a good something I've got to see or a bad something I've got...to....see..."
There really wasn't any need for the man to answer that, because the pilot's cabin wasn't that far away, and the window before them told her more than she wanted to know.
At first, she'd almost thought it was some flood, but there was simply to way the ocean could creep this far south. And the water was /crawling/, and closer inspection revealed it wasn't really water at all, but a sea of monsters spread below them, moving toward Midgar. In the sky to the around them, still far off, the shapes of winged monsters cluttered the air.
"Da-chao gods save us, because I think we're fucked. How many soldiers are on board?"
The man stammered at bit before composing himself enough to answer. "There are the men you brought with you from Wutai, and about a dozen thirds, and half as many of the second class. Mostly SOLDIERS that were being transported from one front to another, and just layovering in Midgar."
Not enough. Not nearly enough if they were attacked by the forces up there.
"Call Highwind and tell him Midgar is in immediate need of aerial support. Jenova's brought out the big guns. And I want anyone able to fight here as of, oh, now. We've gotten this far because of cover from the storm, but that won't hold forever."
The man ran off, shouting, as another of the young officers was fiddling furiously with a communicator, Yuffie turned to him.
"Well?"
"I've reached Captain Highwind, Sir, but he says the storm's keeping him grounded."
//Grounded?! I'll show the old man grounded.//
"Give me that." And the Wutain general snatched the microphone from the man's hand.
"Cid. You better be listening, you hear me? Midgar needs backup as of yesterday."
Cid's voice emerged from crackle over the speaker. "Don't give me that, brat. I know, Scarlet's already told us to prepare for something. But bitch didn't tell us when, and we don't have enough warning, not with this fucking storm keeping everyone grounded."
"You not being here is not an option. Get anyone out here - Fort Condor, that pathetic excuse for a military base you have near Chocobo Ranch - /anyone/!"
For moments there was only the static, and the technician reached to fiddle with the settings, obviously afraid the transmission had been cut, before Cid's voice emanated from the speaker once more.
"I've already told you, the storm - "
There was a time and place for dealing with Cid's whining, and this was not it. "Cid, I am on a plane. In a storm. I am two seconds away from digging my stomach out with the Conformer, before the damned thing and this damned place kill me. If don't care if it's the end of the world, I need some aerial support and I need it now, and if I don't get it, Leviathan help me, I will wait until I see you and let my motion sickness have its evil way with any upholstery on the Highwind. Is that clear?"
"Brat. I'll see what I can do." The connection cut off, and the technician was staring at her with something akin to awe in his eyes.
"Raise connection to Midgar; make sure they know what's coming under cover of the storm." The technician nodded and scrambled to comply, hands flying over the dials and keyboard with frantic precision.
The man she'd spoken to before came into the cabin, his voice heralded by the sound of many booted footsteps. "Sir? The men are here."
And they were. Personally, Yuffie never understood SOLDIERS. It was one thing to train and perfect the arts of fighting as her people did, and another thing entirely to warp and mutate your body to be able to become a more ideal fighter.
It must have, she reflected, taken so much change to twist Cloud from the almost painfully shy kid that you could still see sometimes, the hints of him at the edges that the war hadn't killed yet, into the fighter, the machine that the men called the General.
And no matter how much they needed him, needed them all, there was something wrong about all of it.
"I'm sure that, since you all can see the window, there's no need for me to explain why I called you all up here."
The men didn't nod or reply, but the determination and understanding flitted through their faces, one after another, the realization of a coming battle, like sailors before a storm.
"The ship has some weapons capability, but it wasn't built for that. We're going to have to rely on ourselves here, to get us to Midgar where we can aid the forces there."
Noise outside, great drums in the heavens, and she couldn't tell if it was the distant crow of lightning or the roar of some mad beast.
"It's a bad situation, I won't lie to you. We're on a plane, in the middle of a storm, and we're surrounded by monsters. There's very little in this situation that is good, and very much that is bad. But that's okay. Because Hojo decided to bring the war here. Everyone here has watched towns burn, and people's lives destroyed. Some of you may even have been there when they took Bone Village. I was. And he wants to do that again, to Midgar.
"But that doesn't matter. What we did or did not do in the past doesn't matter right now. Hojo's brought the fight to Midgar, and I think it's time we showed that prick what happens when he pisses us off. I want everyone ready - long range weapons and materia attacks first, and only attack the ones that notice the plane. Be ready to hit anything that comes within short range attacks, though. Two SOLDIERS - two third class - are to stay down here, with the pilots, to guard against attacks that try to take out the pilot's cabin. Everyone else, on the deck."
The Conformer gleamed in the dim fluorescent lights as she raised the weapon over her head, materia glowing purple and green and red.
"He wanted a fight. We're going to give him one."
The cry that rang up from the SOLDIERS and from her own fighters echoed the roar of thunder and monstrous rage from outside, and try as she might, Yuffie couldn't tell which was which.
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Author's notes -
1. By using more game dialogue, I can think about what I write /less/. It's a clever ploy. Don't tell anyone.
2. I wanted to get Sephiroth remembering everything he did right and I tried really hard and I'm still not sure how it came out, so blame him. It's all his fault.
3. The quote that precedes this chapter is from Hellboy, a comic I'm fond of. I don't remember which issue, but the context is a mermaid speaking after all the souls imprisoned in the deep are set free in the form of glowing white birds. In the old fairy tales, mermaids lived for 300 years and then became sea foam when they died. Right. Shutting up now.