Chapter Five: Strife
The crowds milled around the expansive Shinra plaza, dozens of spectators flocking in with each passing minute. Already the square was packed, leaving hardly any room for movement, and latecomers had to crane their necks to see over the heads of their companions, and struggle to hear through the commotion. Hotels on the borders of the plaza were renting out balconies to give those willing to pay a better view. News helicopters wheeled above like vultures searching for the right moment to strike their wounded prey. Stores throughout the city had been closed hurriedly, and their owners had scrambled frantically to the plaza in hopes of getting ideal positions. And all eyes in the courtyard were locked on one massive object standing in the center of the Shinra building's entrance courtyard, covered by a large black cloth. Tourists from as far away as Wutai had come to attend the event, eagerly peering over the heads of fellow onlookers, holding up cameras in hopes of catching a snapshot of the unveiling. The commotion in the plaza surged tremendously as a small party of men and women stepped out of the Shinra building's front entrance and came to a halt in front of the covered monument.
Cid drew a deep breath as he approached the monument with Shera to his right and Schwartzberg to his left. The tension was reaching its climax now, a rubber band strung to breaking point. And he was not the only one who felt it. Standing just to the left of Schwartzberg, Alex Preston shifted nervously. At the far left side of the line, Cloud's hands clenched instinctively around a nonexistent sword hilt. Tifa patted his arm reassuringly, but her face was troubled. Judy Adams, standing to Reeve's left, glanced up and down the square frantically. Shera could sense it too, though she did not want to admit it; Cid could see it in her eyes. And Anton von Schwartzberg stared into space, frowning worriedly. In fact, the only one who did not seem bothered was James Warrington, who stood between Tifa and Adams. He looked just as relaxed as he had been earlier. And Reeve, of course, whose glare was as cold as ice. What's wrong with the man? thought Cid. His behavior is just not human. Cid noticed a row of Soldiers standing several yards behind them, awaiting a command. Had Cloud positioned them there because he suspected something? Or was this Reeve's doing? But Cid had no time to contemplate the matter further, for Reeve's voice cut through the noise of the crowd like a razor, amplified by carefully positioned loudspeakers. The crowd fell silent instantly.
"I would like to thank all of you for being here tonight. This is a most memorable experience for me, as I hope it will be for all of you. But before the monument is unveiled, I would like to give my respects to a few people. First, I would like to thank my fellow adventurers, who saved this planet from Meteor seven years ago. Unfortunately, they could not all be here with us today, but my thanks goes out to them anyways." Cid noticed a murderous flash in Reeve's eyes at these seemingly friendly words. "Second, I would like to thank the members of my administration, who have volunteered selflessly to work hours on end to make this city better for all of us." Sure, why don't you just say "volunteered," Cid thought bitterly. "Lastly, I would like to thank you, the hardworking citizens of Neo-Midgar, for keeping the city prosperous and clean. Now, without further ado, I give you the monument." He gestured to two assistants beside the statue, who pulled down on nearby ropes, unveiling it and revealing a spectacular sight.
An enormous golden sculpture of the planet, over thirty feet tall, stood on the pedestal, with every detail carefully carved into it. Seeping from the gigantic rift atop the planet was the Lifestream, and around the base of the sculpture stood life-size golden statues of the party of eight who had defeated Sephiroth that day, staring out at the audience triumphantly. Cid was blown away by the size and splendor of the memorial, and he was not easily astonished by displays of wealth. He had expected something extravagant, but not that extravagant. From the expressions of his companions, he could tell that they were astonished as well, all save Preston, who had known what was coming, and seemed quite pleased by the reaction. The crowd was silent in awe for one moment, and then burst into applause. Cid could not hear the roar of the engines of the hovering helicopters, or the words Cloud was saying to Tifa only a few feet away, but he heard one sound: the sound of a gunshot from across the square. And, just five feet to his left, Alex Preston collapsed to the ground, a bullet through his forehead.
For a seemingly endless instant there was no sound other than the thud of Preston's lifeless body hitting the ground. Then chaos erupted. Spectators struggled to find a way out of the square, trying to escape before something even worse happened. Recovering from shock, Cid said quietly to Shera,
"Run back to the room and lock the door. Don't let anyone in." Shera hesitated. "Run, goddamn it, woman!" He shouted, abandoning all tact. "Can't you see it's dangerous?" Her face a picture of fright, Shera darted up the steps towards the Shinra building. Reeve regained his stony composure in an instant and turned to the guards.
"That bullet was meant for me. One of them is responsible," he said with a gesture in the direction of Cid and the others. "Don't let any of them get away." Most of the Soldiers advanced towards them, but a handful began to follow Shera. The men were trained runners, and Cid could see that they would overtake her in no time.
Cid's hand flew up instantly as he concentrated on the green orb tucked into a socket in his spear. The Soldiers chasing Shera found their path blocked by an invisible wall. Almost at the same time Cloud preformed the same motion, placing a barrier between the Soldiers and his companions. The two men exchanged glances; both knew that they could not maintain their walls of force much longer. The Soldiers knew it too, and were patiently waiting for the barriers to dissipate. There was not much time to think.
"Run!" Cloud shouted to Tifa and the others, and they hardly needed prompting, dashing towards nearby streets. Cid waited for Shera to disappear into the building before nodding grimly at Cloud and releasing his barrier. Without a backwards glance, he turned and ran after the others. Cloud too let go of his shield and followed him. As they reached the edge of the square, Cid paused momentarily and concentrated on another materia orb. The orb glowed brightly, and a bolt of lightning darted down from the clear sky and struck the ground directly in front of the Soldiers, flinging chunks of stone into the air. That should delay them a little, he thought, and hurried after Cloud.
Cid did not know how long he followed Cloud, who in turn had his eyes locked on Tifa and the others. They doubled back on their path, changing directions at every turn, until, after what seemed like an eternity, they came to a stop, exhausted, in the middle of an empty street. Tifa ushered them into the lobby of a nearby apartment building, locking the door behind her. It was a spacious room, though rather unfurnished, with a back exit to an alleyway on the opposite wall.
"So what the hell are we supposed to do now?" Warrington asked, his neat black suit now in a state of disarray. Though he no longer seemed relaxed, he was still much calmer than any of the others. Schwartzberg wore an expression of sheer terror, and Adams looked both angered and frightened. Cloud opened his mouth to speak, but Adams cut him off.
"I don't have time for this," she said angrily. "I can take care of myself. I don't need you telling me what to do." She stormed out through the back door and slammed it shut behind her. What the hell was that all about? Cid wondered. Losing a position as a highly paid Shinra executive would piss anyone off, but she was more angry than frightened. But there was no time to worry about Adams's emotions. She had to be stopped before she got herself killed.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" He said aloud. "Somebody's got to go after her!" Seeing nobody else moving, Cid stood up and began to walk towards the door. Surprisingly, Cloud stopped him.
"No, Cid. As heartless as it sounds, we've got to stick together. We can only hope that she escapes. There's no point in having two get captured if one can escape."
Cid had to admit that there was logic in Cloud's point; they were all safer as a group. But as he sat back down, Cid spotted a flashlight beam through the murky windows, moving rapidly across the street.
"Shit!" he swore, as he leapt to his feet. "They've found us. Let's go!" Without a moment's hesitation he darted through the back door into a narrow alley. As Cloud slammed the door behind them, Cid heard a thud as the Soldiers rammed into the front door. It would not hold long, and after that, their enemies would be upon them. Cid skidded around a corner into another wide street, with Tifa and Schwartzberg right behind him. He was surprised that the old man could keep up such a pace; he had clearly never run so hard in his life. Just as they approached the next intersection, a group of Soldiers ran out into the road ahead, cutting them off. He heard the triumphant cries of the patrol behind them. They were trapped. It did not look like the Soldiers were going to take them prisoners either, from the cruel grins on their faces as they unsheathed their swords.
Cid drew in a deep breath. One option remained, but it would put his life and those of his companions in peril. But as he watched the Soldiers slowly closing in around them, Cid made up his mind. We're all in peril anyways. Fuck it. The green glow of his lightning materia grew brighter as Cid drew on more of its energy than he ever had before. The torrent of magic was wrenched from his control, and the glowing orb fell to the ground. And the storm struck, blasting the buildings and streets all around him with bolts of electricity. Cid's energy had been drained completely, but he knew he had to get out of the street. Gathering his remaining strength, he threw himself to the left into a narrow alley, flinging his spear in front of him, and rolling forward as he hit the ground. Scooping up the Venus Gospel, he ran, faster than he ever had before. He hoped that the others escaped, but could not stop to look back, for he heard the sound of heavy boots pounding behind him. All he could do was run.
Tifa held her fists in front of her warily, her eyes locked on the slowly advancing row of Soldiers. Turning, she saw Cloud and Warrington, getting ready to defend themselves from the pursuing Soldiers. Cid stood in the middle of the street with his head bowed, clenching his spear tightly. Tifa's eyes widened as she saw the materia on which he was concentrating. It was growing brighter by the second, and looked about to burst open. Time seemed to slow down, and Tifa saw the materia crystal, pulsing with energy, slip from its socket and begin to fall. Pulling Schwartzberg behind her, she flung herself into a side street, while Soldiers charged towards her triumphantly, their swords raised. In its unstable state, the orb shattered as it struck the ground, and a storm broke over the street. The charging Soldiers were felled in seconds, doomed by their steel armor. Tifa looked out into the street frantically. Bodies of Soldiers covered the square, but there was no sign of Cid. Suddenly, a crash of falling masonry sounded from the street to her right, where the pursuing Soldiers were. Where Cloud was. Tifa's breath caught in her throat, and she darted into the now quiet street, but all she could see was smoke and rubble.
"Look out!" came Schwartzberg's feeble voice from behind her. Startled, Tifa stepped backwards, narrowly avoiding the sweep of a Soldier's blade. She was reminded harshly of the skill and training of the first class Soldiers as the man changed his unsuccessful sweep into a powerful jab at her left shoulder. But Tifa had undergone years of training as well, and swiftly turned her body to avoid the blow, striking the man hard in his exposed ribs. He went down with a grunt, unconscious. Instantly, she turned and delivered a powerful side kick to a second Soldier, who was about to bear his sword down on Schwartzberg. She held out her hand to the scientist, who lay on the floor stunned, and pulled him to his feet.
"Come on. We've got to get to safety," she said. But here she paused, and once again scanned the area where Cloud, Warrington, and the Soldiers had stood only moments earlier. Nothing. With what seemed like a superhuman effort, Tifa wrenched her eyes away. She hated herself for leaving Cloud, but knew that she was responsible for Schwartzberg's safety. Tifa became aware that he was waiting for her lead.
"Let's go," she said, as she took a deep breath, and pointed forward into the small street. This part of Neo-Midgar was foreign to Tifa, and she realized that she had no idea where the street would lead. Still, wherever it goes, it's bound to be safer than here, she resolved. But all thoughts of her destination vanished as she saw two Soldiers running up the alley towards them. Soldiers had doubtlessly converged on the site of the storm, and turning back was clearly suicidal. Tifa's only choice was to fight. The alley was cramped, and the Soldiers, armed with blades similar to Cloud's, had a longer reach and therefore the upper hand. She motioned for Schwartzberg to stay back, and simply did what they would not expect: she leapt forward. The Soldiers, taken completely by surprise, had no time to strike before Tifa's foot struck the first man's jaw, sending him sprawling. But just as she brought her foot down, the second man lashed out at her leg with his sword, and she fell to the ground with a cry. She looked up to see his sword swinging down at her, leaving her no time to react.
And the man tumbled to the floor unconscious. Tifa looked up and saw Cid standing in front of her, the butt of his spear resting against the unconscious Soldier's head, looking down grimly.
"That'll bring him a lot of pain, but it won't be fatal. If we ever want to convince Reeve that we're innocent, we should avoid killing his men. You okay?" Wiping the blood from her leg, Tifa stood up cautiously and realized that the blade had not cut deep.
"I'll be fine," she said, and looked over at Schwartzberg, who had come towards them.
"I think we best get going," he said, peering anxiously over his shoulder. "They will be here very soon."
Tifa realized that she was looking at Cid, waiting for his decision, and noticed Schwartzberg doing the same. Perhaps it was because Cid had taken charge of the group during Cloud's coma. But she had been looking after Cloud at the time, and only knew of Cid's leadership from Barret's description. Cid just seemed to have an air of command about him. That's odd, she thought. He didn't strike me as a leader before. Clearly, a lot has changed.
Cid peered into another alley, and then disappeared into it, beckoning for them to follow. Right and left he led them, through twisting mazelike streets, skillfully avoiding the Soldiers searching the city. Twice they were forced to hide in doorways and behind dumpsters as helicopters patrolled the skies above, searchlights scouring the streets for any sign of the fugitives. At last Cid stopped, motioning for them to be silent, as they looked out over the Shinra plaza. God, he knows this city better than I do, Tifa thought, astounded. Neo-Midgar was not an easily navigable city. It was easy to get lost for hours in its many streets, let alone its alleys, but Cid had found his way back to the city center in less than half an hour.
"Shit!" Cid cursed under his breath as he scanned the square, and Tifa could hardly resist doing the same. A row of Soldiers stood guard in front of the Shinra building, motionless. It would be nearly impossible to get through. Slipping through the shadows along the wall, Cid led them silently to the other side of the square, from where Tifa's house was easily accessible. Tifa let out a long breath as they reached the street on the other side. Apparently, they had not been seen. Wrenching his eyes away from the impassable square, Cid turned to Tifa.
"The going shouldn't be so tough from here. Go with Schwartzberg and find somewhere safe to hide. I'm going to see Shera." Tifa moved forward to stop him.
"But how? There's no way you're ever going to get in there unnoticed." Cid's voice grew angry.
"I know a way, okay? Trust me. Now go!" Tifa spared one final glance for Cid as he walked into the square, into plain view of the Soldiers, before running alongside Schwartzberg into the darkness.
Private Turner of the Shinra Military Police strained to get a good view of the man walking into the square. Was he one of the ones they were supposed to catch? If so, he was a complete idiot for walking right into plain view. Whoever he was, the man certainly had no business approaching the building. The private found himself hungry once again, and sighed impatiently. He had never been promoted further for that reason; his insatiable appetite kept him perpetually over the weight limit. He had only remained in the service in the first place because of his wealthy uncle, who worked in Shinra's science department. Turner grudgingly drew himself back to the present. He raised his assault rifle and aimed it at the man, then blinked uncertainly as a green flash filled the square. Turner squinted through drooping eyelids at the man, who was still walking towards him. Did that man just flash green? he wondered. Probably my imagination. God, I hate the night shift. So…Tired. Turner yawned widely, and the rifle fell from his pudgy fingers and clattered on the floor below. But he was too exhausted to notice, and his mind began to wander. What was I thinking about again? Oh yes, that man…If I turn my head to the left, he kinda looks like a pie…mmmmm…pie…… And Turner drifted off into a deep and pleasant sleep. Walking through the row of sleeping MPs, the man stepped through the door into the Shinra building, the green glow of a materia orb in his spear slowly fading.
Judy Adams strode angrily through the Shinra building's wide, uniform corridors. I was lucky to even get inside, she thought, trying to calm herself, but to no avail. Life was supposed to be easier for me after tonight. And this is not easier! She caught a glimpse of an adjacent street, fifty three stories below, through a great glass window to her right. Blue-armored Soldiers ran back and forth, reminding her of just how narrowly she had escaped capture. Just as she had slipped through the gates of the Shinra building and hid herself awkwardly beneath a desk, a group of MPs had rushed to guard the entrance of the building. The others would have a hard time getting into the building, which suited her just fine. The more Soldiers chased them around the city, the less she would have to deal with. What did not suit her fine was the way events had turned out at the unveiling.
Judy heaved a sigh of relief as she reached her destination without interference from the guards. 'Storage room number fourteen' read the label on the door. A machine on the wall beeped once, prompting identification. Fumbling through her pockets for her keycard, she finally produced it, and slid it into the slot. A light flashed green, and Judy heard the sound of a latch opening. As the director of city management, she had always had access to the many storage rooms in the Shinra building, but had never visited any of them until a week ago, in response to a cryptic note she had received from an anonymous source.
She did not know how in the world the man had discovered her thoughts. She had certainly never publicized them, and in fact she first had them only a few days before she received the message. It was then that Reeve's leadership abilities began to plummet. The same man who had revived Shinra from its deathbed had become a mere shadow of himself, wallowing in self pity. And she was the only one who saw it, the only one who knew that he would surely destroy the company he had worked so hard to rebuild if he kept acting the way he was. She had tried to reason with him, to lead him back to the man he used to be, but her efforts were futile. She knew he would continue with his insane, impossible orders until death took him. And just three days after she first realized this, she had found a neatly printed note in her coat pocket. 'The weight of a continent cannot be properly supported by a frayed rope,' the note had read, 'But I have heard that stronger rope is kept inside Shinra's fourteenth storage room.' Inside the room she had found the hired killer, for she was sure that was his occupation, masked from head to toe in midnight black. He had the air of a professional assassin, one who would get the job done quickly without getting caught. Reeve and Preston had been standing side by side, close enough to justify an error, but not with the level of skill this man possessed. No, he would not have missed his target unless it was deliberate, unless somebody else had ordered him to, and that was what truly worried her.
Judy took a deep breath and pulled a small pistol from her pocket. The man was an infinitely better shot than she, but if she surprised him, she might be able to corner him and find out his other employer. She was sure he would be in the room; they had discussed returning there for his payment after the deed was done. Waiting no longer, she pushed open the door, gun held out in front of her. Darkness filled the room, and turning on the lights would ruin what surprise advantage she still had. She stepped forward silently, trying in vain to see through the blackness around her, ears straining for the slightest sound. But as she proceeded through the room, not catching any clue to the man's whereabouts, fear began to turn to uncertainty. Perhaps he was not in the room after all. Perhaps he had fled the city after disobeying her orders. Perhaps the Soldiers had caught him. Perhaps—
All thoughts disappeared from her head as the floor rushed to meet her. Landing with a thud, the first thing Judy felt was immense pain in the back of her head. She lay still for a moment, startled, considering her options. Light flooded the chamber and she heard footsteps drawing closer. He doesn't know about the gun, she thought. I still have one trick up my sleeve. Instantly, she flipped over onto her back, her gun aimed directly at the assassin's face. But he hardly blinked, and simply reached forward, wrenched the gun from her hand, and tossed it across the room. In his other hand he clutched a gun of his own, a long barreled marksman's weapon. Judy found herself looking at him in shock. He looked more like an wealthy businessman than a professional assassin, neat blonde hair framing an arrogant face with startlingly blue eyes.
"How are you doing today?" he asked sardonically, a mocking smile appearing on his lips. "I'm afraid I was not able to introduce myself the last time we met. My name is Warren Maxwell, and I'd like to thank you for your cooperation. Your assistance will be required, of course, for what will now follow."
Mustering the courage to speak, Judy burst out angrily,
"I know the missed shot at the unveiling was intentional. Tell me who else is employing you, or I'll…turn you in!"
Maxwell's lips twitched with amusement.
"Calm down, woman. Everything is going according to plan. Whose plan, at this stage, is not important. What is important is that you follow my directions. Frankly, I don't believe you are in the position to give anybody, least of all me, to the authorities, considering that you are on the run from them yourself. You commissioned me to kill Reeve in the first place; to turn me in now would be suicide for you. Your very survival depends on me at the moment. As for the plan, you will know your own instructions and nothing more. In his present state, Reeve can be manipulated, and an attractive young woman should be able to do so easily. It would be beneficial for both of us if Reeve believed the assassination to be the work of another. And you, as the one who finds the killer, will become one of his most trusted confidents. Do I make myself clear?" Judy nodded numbly. "Good. I will give you further instructions tomorrow. Now if you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to."
As Maxwell walked out the door, Judy had to admit that his plan was masterfully thought out. Playing on Reeve's instability and paranoia was a much safer route to power than assassinating him. And, though she did not like the sound of them, she would have to follow his orders. There was no way out; her survival was now strongly bound to his. And what scared Judy most was that she still did not know exactly what Maxwell wanted.
Tifa stopped in front of her house, out of breath, with Schwartzberg at her side. The night had grown considerably colder, and Tifa unlocked the door hurriedly, eager for the warmth that waited inside. As she ushered Schwartzberg inside, Tifa looked around the house. Her living room greeted her with the comforting illusion of stability. Everything was just as it had been when she had left, only several hours earlier, but outside, everything had changed. She had to find Cloud, had to take him away from the danger. But how, when the danger could be inside him? she could not help thinking, and instantly suppressed the thought. Tifa pulled herself out of her thoughts harshly. Cloud was somewhere on the streets of Neo-Midgar, and he needed her to stop him from making a terrible decision. And the longer she waited, the less likely it was she would reach him in time.
"You'll be safe here," she told Schwartzberg, sliding open a small panel in the wall. He gasped audibly, clearly surprised at the hidden storage space. It had not been designed as a refuge, just to blend in with the architecture, and it did that masterfully. But it was spacious enough for several men, and nearly impossible to find, making it the safest spot in Neo-Midgar that Tifa knew of. Nobody except herself and Cloud knew of its existence, for they only stored in it the things they no longer used, but wanted to save.
Schwartzberg disappeared into the storage room, and Tifa shut the door firmly behind him. He's safe now. There is nothing stopping me from finding Cloud. Hurriedly locking the front door, Tifa ran out into the biting cold. She did not have time to stop for anybody else. The snow, which had ceased to fall earlier that afternoon, had picked up again, and flakes were falling from the sky, landing in Tifa's hair. But she did not care. Oh God, please let me find him before it's too late. But somehow, Tifa already knew that she would not.
Cloud paused for breath as he turned a corner, but began running again almost immediately, the pursuing Soldiers' footsteps only thirty feet behind. Warrington ran ahead of him, coattails flapping in the wind. Soft flakes of snow drifted gently to the ground, belying the frantic scrambling of Soldiers and fugitives alike. As he ran forward, Cloud recalled the events that had led to his separation from the others. Soldiers had spilled out into the street ahead of him, and the ones behind him were catching up. And just as he thought he was trapped, a lightning storm struck the street, throwing the Soldiers into chaos. In the confusion, he snatched a sword from a dead Soldier and darted into an alley, from where he surveyed the street. Shattered rubble was everywhere, and so were the bodies of unlucky Soldiers, whose metal armor had attracted the lightning like a beacon.
Cloud had looked down at the Soldier's blade he had almost unconsciously picked up. It had been seven years, but his hands had clenched the hilt instinctively. He shook his head. He had sworn to leave that life behind, but now it seemed he had no choice. Grimacing, Cloud stood up and started down the street, for he had heard another band of Soldiers, several blocks away, moving rapidly towards him. He had met Warrington at an intersection, but had no time to stop, as they were both being pursued.
Warrington rounded another corner and Cloud followed, Soldiers in close pursuit. He could not see far through the snowy mist, and did not see the great brick wall looming up in front of him until it was too late. Triumphant cries echoed from behind; apparently the Soldiers knew they were cornered.
"Well, Strife, now we can see what you're made of," Warrington said. Smiling, he pulled a gun from his coat and began to fire away at the Soldiers. Automatically, Cloud slid the sword from his back and held it in front of his chest. Once a killer, always a killer, he thought grimly, as the first Soldier ran towards him, sword arm outstretched. It did not look like he was going to show any mercy. Seven years without practice were overcome by the diligent hours Cloud had spent training as he swung his blade smoothly upwards in a deadly arc, parrying his opponent's blow, and then bringing the sword down on the man's head, ending his life in an instant. Another Soldier had run up to him, but Cloud was prepared. Flashing, the sword cut through the air, decapitating the advancing man. Cloud did not see their faces, or the bloody corpses he had created as the bodies of people, of human beings. Years of experience in battle had hardened him, steeled his spirit against fear of delivering death. And he could not allow all that work to amount to nothing. He could not let fear and weakness overcome him. Aeris had already died because on that day, back in the old city of Midgar, he had not had the strength to send her home, to keep her out of the fight. And he would not let the same thing happen to Tifa.
The bodies of Soldiers now filled the street, some hacked to death by the merciless steel of Cloud's sword, and others shot down as they ran by Warrington. As the last man tried to flee from the alley, a gunshot sounded, and the man let out a strangled cry and fell to the ground.
"Not bad," Warrington said, and Cloud glanced at him suspiciously. What is the man doing with a gun anyways? he thought. And how did he get to be such a good shot? But challenging Warrington now could leave one of them dead, and Cloud could not risk that. Tifa is still out there somewhere, he reminded himself, I've got to find her. We're no longer being followed; nothing's stopping me. I'll make my way back to where we were separated. She's got to be around there somewhere. But just as he stepped out of the dead end street, Cloud cursed audibly. For several blocks away, the heavy footsteps of Soldiers were growing louder.
"Never a goddamn dull moment. Let's get going."
As Cloud followed Warrington down another alley, he noticed that they were not returning to the point of separation, but moving away from it. It did not matter now, though. His first priority was getting away from the Soldiers. Finding Tifa would be of help to her if he brought the Shinra down upon her as well.
From the small alley they burst out into what normally would have been a busy intersection. The crossing was abandoned now, for civilians all over the city had hurriedly returned to their homes. A small island of concrete separated the lanes, and as Cloud sprinted towards an alley on the other side, he suddenly stopped. For alone in the grey world of Neo-Midgar was a tiny basket of spring flowers, abandoned by its owner on that tiny patch of concrete. "1 Gil a Flower" was scrawled almost illegibly on a piece of cardboard lying next to the basket. Though snow was gently drifting onto the flowers, they still appeared as fresh as unpicked ones. Instantly Cloud thought of Aeris. It had been at a similar intersection that they first met, and it appeared a flower seller frequented this street as well. And as soon as the thought of Aeris entered his head all others vanished: of Warrington, of the Soldiers, and even of Tifa. For suddenly a vision of Aeris flashed in Cloud's head, filling him with hope. She's alive, somewhere, somehow, to the west. I have to find her.
Out of the corner of his eye, Cloud saw Warrington spare him one last glance before disappearing into the alley, but he did not care. The Soldiers burst into the street from the other side, encouraged by the sight of only one man, standing in the center of the street with his head bowed, who seemed not to even notice their arrival. But as they surged forward confidently, Cloud's head snapped up, and his sword was ready in his hands. They are merely obstacles, boomed a voice in Cloud's head. Aeris's voice. I am waiting for you. Kill them. One by one the Soldiers fell as Cloud's sword cut great bloody swathes through their ranks. He did not hear their shrieks of pain, only the voice that echoed in his mind. And as the last man died, blood gushing from a hole in his chest, the bloody blade fell from Cloud's hands. I'll need better than that for a journey of this kind. I need to prepare. He walked off down the street, leaving the scene of the slaughter behind. And as snow began to settle over the freshly butchered corpses, the vivid spring flowers in the basket wilted and died.
Cid walked through the corridors of the Shinra building's thirty-second floor with a mixture of anger and anxiety. Shera better have taken my advice, he thought, both worrying about and fuming at his wife. Can't she see it's dangerous? Damnit, that woman has no common sense! All had gone smoothly after he had entered the building; clearly, Reeve had thought the incompetent bastards at the door would keep them out. As he approached the door to Shera's room, Cid paused, and then decided to knock on the door with the butt of his spear. It made a distinctly different sound than a fist, and Shera was sure to recognize it; he used it often enough back home. But when he knocked on the apparently locked door, standing several feet away, it slowly opened inward. Hardly daring to breathe, Cid gazed through the open doorway and saw Shera, lying motionless atop a bloodstained mattress.
Cid's mind raced as he attempted to sort out what had just happened. The assassin must still be in the room, he realized, and threw himself to the side just as a man stepped out from behind the door and fired three times into the wall where Cid had stood only moments before. As the assassin stepped out into the hallway to fire again, Cid got his first clear glimpse of the man. He was in his thirties, wearing a neat black suit, blonde hair waving as he scowled and fired twice more with his long-barreled pistol. Cid rolled to the right, avoiding his shots, and then leapt forward with a snarl while his enemy reloaded. He would not allow Shera's killer to live. But I have to find out why, he reminded himself. "Why" can just fucking wait in line until I get my revenge, he resolved, as he reached jabbing range of the assassin. With a roar, he brought the spear down, only to meet an invisible wall of force. His adversary smiled arrogantly at him, and Cid noticed three materia orbs in the sockets of the man's gun, two familiar green ones and one odd violet colored crystal, the like of which Cid had never seen before. But none of them were glowing with the familiar light of activation. Cid followed the man's gaze to his own spear, where he saw the impossible: his barrier orb had been activated by his opponent.
The two men stood in an uneasy stalemate, not one foot of distance between them. The assassin could not maintain the barrier for much longer, but if he dropped it, both of them would die. The man clearly did not want that to happen, but Cid was not afraid to risk it all. At last Cid's opponent came to a decision, tumbling backwards as he released the barrier, and firing as he rolled. Cid felt the bullet fly past, barely an inch from his face, as he sidestepped and hurled the spear as hard as he could at the man's gun arm. The spear struck only an inch from its goal, but that made all the difference. It slashed lightly across the man's arm, pinning his coat sleeve to the wall behind. As Cid leapt forward to deliver the kill, the man tore himself from the wall, blasting at Cid's fingers as they closed around the spear's hilt. Cid winced with pain and barely kept himself from crying out as his fourth and fifth fingers on his right hand were destroyed by the blast. But he clutched the spear tightly and lunged again towards his enemy, who now stood directly in front of a great glass window overlooking the streets of Neo-Midgar. The man did what Cid would never have expected; he threw himself backwards through the window, hands shielding his face from the shards. And as he plummeted rapidly towards the ground, the assassin suddenly vanished with a flash, as suddenly as he had appeared.
Cid was astonished, angry, and sorrowful all at once. It took great calm of mind to use a teleportation spell when falling through the air. If it had been any other man, Cid would have greatly admired him. He got away from me once. But the next time I find him, I'm gonna fucking kill him, Cid vowed. But almost instantly his thoughts turned to Shera. Why her? After their marriage, he had managed to contain his angry outbursts. And now, his last words to her before she died had been in anger. Cid almost wanted to end his own life right there beside her. But not while Shera remained unavenged. Ignoring the biting pain from his fingers, Cid walked slowly back into the room where Shera's body still lay, motionless except for the thin trickle of blood oozing from her forehead. Cid let out a roar of rage and collapsed on the bed beside her. Footsteps thudded some distance off, within the expansive corridors of the building. Of course. Somebody had heard the gunshots. Let them hear. I don't give a shit. I just gotta find that man and end his life, and then my own. But another voice also echoed through his mind. There aren't as many of us this time. It's only Cloud and Tifa, and there's danger everywhere. They're gonna get themselves killed without me. I gotta help them. As he stood up, Cid turned to look down at his love one last time.
Tears began to form under his eyes as he looked down at her, so serene, so beautiful, even in death. And as he stood, simply watching her, remembering everything that had brought them together, the air around his head began to thicken. Cid turned around, gasping for breath, but could not see through the dense fog surrounding him. His consciousness dwindling, Cid tumbled forward, and then all went black.
Schwartzberg waited in the dark recesses of the hidden storage space, surveying the now empty room above through a vent near the floor. It was incredible. He could see quite clearly into the living room, but he could simply not be seen from above. A mere fifteen minutes after Tifa's departure, a band of Soldiers with flashlights and machine guns had burst into the house and ransacked it, searching for any clue to Tifa and Cloud's location. But they had not found Schwartzberg, even after a thorough search, and had eventually departed empty-handed.
Now, twenty minutes later, Schwartzberg anxiously anticipated Tifa's return. She had promised to return, but Schwartzberg feared for her; while he sat safe in this hidden cellar, she was out on the streets, where she could easily be captured or killed. And he owed her something; his very survival was due to her.
The door slowly opened and a solitary figure entered the living room. The figure carried no form of light, and Schwartzberg could not make out just who it was. His eyesight had never been his strongest point. Whoever it was made no move to turn on the lights, leaving the room shrouded in darkness. And Schwartzberg felt a mixture of horror and relief as he heard the latch to the secret room turn, and the shadowed figure enter.
"Tifa?" Schwartzberg said uncertainly, and received no answer. It has to be Tifa, though. If one of the Soldiers knew of this room, they would have come in before. But as the figure slowly advanced towards him, Schwartzberg became surer and surer that it was not Tifa. Panic swelled up inside him, as he tried to find some way out and realized he was trapped, his back to the wall. He cried out in terror, and the last thing he saw was a huge steel blade bearing down upon him.