Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE FF7 CHARACTERS. CAPS LOCK, BABY!

Authors Note: Once again, my sincerest apologies for cranking out the story so slowly. I have had a killer amount of homework and a low concentration of inspiration of late. Hopefully, things will get better from here on out.

Chapter 15

Complete and Unconditional Surrender

There was a storm approaching.

The wind had dropped, leaving Corel Village in the hazy warmth of late evening. It was calm, but a charged, anxious kind of calm, as though everything was filled with anticipation. Vincent knew this weather well. It had been a sign back in Kalm to drop your whatever you were doing and get inside as quick as you could, or risk being caught out on the Overworld, where the only thing in sight for the lightening to strike was you.

Sephiroth seemed to have noticed the shift in the atmosphere as well. He had his head lifted upwards, hair streaming back like a steel waterfall. He sniffed at the air a few times, and then looked back down, glancing in Vincent's direction. "Let's do this quickly, I don't like being caught in the rain."

"Sure, okay," Vincent answered, "What are we supposed to be doing?"

Tseng snickered and Reno rolled his eyes. Sephiroth's lip curled a bit. "A Reactor is being built up on the cliffs." He pointed up in the direction of the high bluffs, which cut Corel off from the sea. "We need this space for generators." He swung his arms in a wide arch. "Unfortunately, the village is taking up all the valuable space."

Vincent blinked. "So you need them to leave so you can tear the place down?"

"Exactly," Sephiroth answered, seemingly pleased that Vincent had worked it out on his own. "That's why you're here. The Turks are the one's who mingle with the locals. We just blow things up."

Once again, Vincent couldn't tell whether he was trying to be funny or not. There was an amused grin on his face, like all of this was just a careless game, but his eyes remained hard, as though they didn't like what they saw. Those eyes seemed to be the only thing this part of Seph this new Sephiroth still possessed.

"Alright," Vincent said. He had never been that accomplished at talking to people he didn't know, but somehow he had to convince that people of Corel to relocate. He had seen enough of Shinra in the past three months to be sure that they raze the town, even it was still inhabited. Human lives meant nothing to them.

As he started toward the stile that marked the entrance to the town, a thought he had been experiencing a great deal lately gripped him. Why me? Why did the Shinra think I was the right one to modify? They had snatched him up and tortured him, but now they had put him in charge.When Reno and Tseng followed him to the edge of the village, a sort of confidence seemed to rise in him. That's right. He was in charge. What he said went. He could escape right now, but he had the feeling that if he didn't convince the villagers to leave, this new and reasonably frightening Seph would march in and kill everything, whether they be man, woman, child, or donkey. (He had seen some donkeys grazing in a field a little ways out of town)

. Only a few months ago, Seph had been hiding from the people he had now become one of. The same people who had completely raped Vincent's life of any meaning it ever had. The irony was almost laughable.

But he couldn't hear anyone laughing.

The layout of Corel was remarkably like that of Kalm. As he followed a wide, snaking avenue, Vincent saw familiar features, such as a small pub and even smaller homes. There was not the barest trace of any kind of Mako power here at all. No streetlights, no fountains. Just decrepit old wells spaced at regular intervals between the equally decrepit buildings. The poverty here was terrible; worse than that of Vincent's hometown. He didn't understand how Shinra could want to force any of the villagers out, when they already had so little to begin with.

They didn't see a single living soul until the reached to the town square. A solitary tree, its branches bare of any sign of it ever having leaves, stood in the center. Standing beneath its gnarled, naked branches were two men. One was tall, black, and angry-looking. The other was white and smaller, his face utterly blank. They were both holding semi-automatic rifles that looked more expensive than most of the town put together. Evidently, Corel had been expecting them, and this was the welcome wagon.

"Can we help ya'll?" the big one asked.

When Vincent didn't answer right away, Reno stepped to his shoulder. "Yeah, you can. You can get the hell out of this dump right away, and bring your rat-shit neighbors with you."

Vincent grimaced. That was diplomacy for you. The men, however, didn't seem very surprised at this response. The black man laughed a deep, throaty, dangerous laugh. "Ya'll jus think come into ou' town an' kick us out? You ain't nothin' but a bunch of kids."

"I would leave," Vincent said, trying to keep his voice steady, "If I were you."

The men both turned their glares in his direction. "Fuck you, man! Comin' into our town with yo' shiny glove and pushin' us around. Who the hell do you think you are? "

Vincent couldn't prevent a little smile from tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced down at his golden arm. He flexed the clawed fingers. "The previous leader…retired. I'm her replacement."

The men glanced at each other. "What'ya think, Barret," the smaller one said, raising an eyebrow, "Should we shoot 'em now?"

"I would advise against it," came a calm voice from behind Vincent. Sephiroth had approached, silent as a fox. His coat billowed in the wind, which had sprung up again, stronger than ever. The storm was almost upon them.

The black man, Barret, tightened his grip on his gun. "Yeah?" he said gruffly, "Why's that?"

"Because," Sephiroth continued, that calm, reasonable look still on his face, "There is currently a large Mako Cannon aimed at your town. Give me a reason, and I'll order it to fire."

Vincent watched as he spoke, still barely believing that this was the same person that had hidden in Scarlet's shed three months ago. It wasn't possible. No one could age that fast, but here he was, standing in front of him, and looking more like Lucrecia than he ever had before. It was truly uncanny. And of course, the words he spoke were strange as well. Here he was, condemning an entire town to its death, and his face was as blank as they come. He didn't care, that much was obvious.

"Am I right in thinking that you two gentleman are going to continue to be stubborn?"

"Yeah, that's right!" Barret answered, "Me and Dain ain't go'in nowhere at all."

No, Vincent thought, Wrong answer!

Sephiroth raised his hand to his mouth. Evidently, there was some communication device in his gloved palm, because he spoke one word.

"Fire."

This was followed by a resounding clap of thunder. Vincent looked to the sky, expecting to see that the storm had finally broken. But no, instead he saw something hurtling toward them. A huge, round, flaming something. The two men leapt out of the way as it crashed down into the square, a mere two feet from where they had been standing. The dead tree was immediately enveloped in a blanket of flame.

And then the town woke up.

A moment ago it had been utterly empty, a ghost town. But now people were pouring out of the buildings, weapons in their hands ranging from muskets to pitchforks. It would seem that many of them had been lying in wait for some form of violence against their village. Still others were hanging out the windows, curious as to what all the sudden commotion was about.

"No you idiots!" Vincent yelled. "Stay inside!" No one listened. He doubted that anyone had actually heard him.

The deafening boom rang out over the town again. This time, the cannon found a target. A man and a woman, both of them carrying long butcher knives, disappeared in a explosion of smoke. Vincent was sure that no one would ever find any sign of them ever again. Rubble blasted out in all directions, injuring any who were standing nearby. The townspeople looked ready to fight to the death for their homes. Their bravery was admirable, if extremely ill-advised. Vincent had seen what Soldier could do to a town.

And suddenly Soldier was here. They were entering the village from all sides, armed with weapons that put the civilians' blunt axes and rolling pins to shame. Their midnight blue uniforms made it easy for them to blend in with the quickly darkening night. Clouds obscured the moon, and the wind whipped Vincent's hair into a wild frenzy. Sephiroth was still standing beside him, sword drawn and eyes shining in the light of the flames. His silver mane of hair streamed out behind him. He cut a much more impressive figure than Vincent could ever hope to pull off.

Vincent felt strangely unconnected with the chaos ensuing around him. He could hear the screams of rage and pain, he could smell the gunpowder in the air, and he could feel the heat coming off in waves from the burning tree. But he didn't seem to be part of it. Until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Let's go, Valentine." Sephiroth winked. "Let's see you put that shiny arm to use."

Vincent blinked. The world seemed to rush back. "What?" he asked shakily, "Where are we going?"

Sephiroth pointed up to the plateau. Train tracks climbed it, running up to where the reactor was being built. Vincent was sure it was used to bring supplies to the workers. It must have led to where the cannon was. Squinting, Vincent could see two forms beginning the long climb to the top. He turned his gaze back to the town square. Even in the chaos, he could see that Barret and his friend, Dain, were no longer there.

"Let's go," Vincent agreed. Anything to get away from the town. He had never been in a real battle before, and it made him feel funny. Half of him wanted to escape, and the other half wanted to raise his claw and kill everything in reach.

Lucrecia never cried. She had learned a long time ago, tears never did anyone any good. It was best not to let any emotion out at all, that way no one would ever be able to call you weak.

Lucrecia never cried.

So as she stared at the damp spots on the lab write-up she was working on, she felt fairly confused. About everything. Nothing made sense anymore. Not that it made much before, but now it made less than ever. Now, it felt like there was something clawing at Lucrecia's insides, something that had been asleep for a long time.

Dammit, she thought, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, What is going on?

She must be getting sick. Yes, that was definitely it. She would get some sleep, and everything would go back to normal. The numb, lifeless existence that was normal. She would eat something and…but no, she couldn't bring herself to eat. She couldn't bring herself to go back to her room and have dinner alone. She had had a dining companion for the past few months. And now he was gone.

There wasn't a doubt in Lucrecia's mind that Vincent would take his chance. For some reason, Dr. Hojo seemed to believe he was on Shinra's side, but she knew him better then that. He would get out while he could, and she was happy for him. A small part of her wished she could have gone with him. It would have been nice to see the stars again, breathe something other than filtered air pushed out through ventilation ducts. She could go somewhere far away, so far that she wouldn't ever have to hear the name Shinra again.

But the realist in her knew it was impossible. Her fate had been sealed the day she stepped into the facility.

Still, she refused to go back to her rooms. Even after she packed up her files and closed her lab stations down, she wandered the bright, silent halls, going where her feet took her. Her feet took her somewhere she knew she shouldn't be. Without even realizing it, Lucrecia found herself outside of that office door, the one she had stood in front of so many different times, trying to force herself through.

She raised her fist and knocked.

"Come in."

Lucrecia let herself in. Hojo glanced up from his desk. He looked strained. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was mussed. His clothes were wrinkled, as though he had slept in them the night before.

"Good evening, Lucrecia." He rubbed his eyes and stood up. "How may I be of assistance?"

Lucrecia didn't answer, she just closed the door behind her. Hojo raised an eyebrow. A small smile crept over his lips. "What's this? You-coming to visit me? I'm touched."

Lucrecia paced around the desk until she was a foot from him. "Just shut up. Don't talk to me."

She leaned in, kissing him first, something that hadn't happened in a long time. Slipping into his embrace, she shut out her thoughts. Hojo's breath was warm on her lips.

She closed her eyes.

Vincent and Sephiroth sprang into a run. They took a side street toward the train tracks, away from the battle between the villagers and Soldier.

I probably don't have to mention who was winning.

It had been a long time since he had been outside, and even in the situation, Vincent couldn't resist the feeling that washed over him as he raced through the night, the wind tearing at his clothes and the rain lashing his face. It was beyond exhilaration. It was ecstasy. From the on his face, Vincent was sure Sephiroth was feeling it too.

They didn't stop when they reached the tracks, just kept running, uphill now, following the two men who threatened their operation. Vincent wasn't really concerned with what that operation was at the moment. He was content just to fly.

Somehow, even with the large head start Barret and his friend had had, they were gaining on them. They reached a place where the ground leveled out. They were now on one of the lower plateaus, where the cliff dropped away and the train tracks continued along a narrow bridge. The two men they were pursuing were barely halfway across when Sephiroth pulled ahead of Vincent. He moved faster than he had ever seen any human being move before. In half a moment he had reached them, drawing his sword as he went. Dain barely had time to turn and fire. But he did.

The gun cracked like another peal of thunder. Red splattered across the tracks. Sephiroth's eyes were wide and his face was white as he stumbled. And then fell. But at the last moment, Vincent saw him lash out, onto Dain by the shirt. The other man, Barret, reacted instantly, grabbing his friend's hand. Sephiroth fell. Dain didn't,

But he was by no means safe, dangling as he was hundreds of feet from the ground. The only thing between him and his death was the strength of Barret's arm, which seemed fairly considerable.

"Hold on, man!" Barret yelled, tightening his grip, "I'll pull you up."

But neither of them had taken Vincent into account , who up till now had been frozen in horror. Now, an inexpressible anger gripped him. It was horribly familiar, burying under his skin and clawing through his stomach. Before he knew what was happening he had drawn his gun. A second shot in a minute sounded, the crack resounding of the sheer cliff walls rising up on both sides. There was an explosion of blood and Barret fell back onto the tracks.

Vincent had shot their entwined hands. Dain yelled and followed Sephiroth down toward the river far, far below.

"Dain!" Barret screamed, cradling his ruined hand in his shirt as he struggled to the edge of the tracks. "Dain, no!" It was only a moment before he turned on Vincent. His eyes were etched with fury. Grasping for his gun with his one remaining hand, he struggled to get a grip on the barrel.

But before he could even get close, Vincent felt a familiar bubbling in his stomach. He retched, falling to his knees, his body beginning to shake violently. After a few seconds, his pain-filled gasps became growls. He was bombarded for the second time in his life with a whole array of new senses. The man in front of him with a gigantic gun became nothing more than a minor annoyance. Not worthy of his notice.

At the bottom of the cliff, in the town of Corel, the fire had spread. It had made its way from the single sickly tree in the town square to a row of houses on the side of the street. The villagers barely noticed. It was difficult to notice anything when you were dead.

But the Soldiers saw it. A black shape streaking across the moon, with wings as strong and grand as an eagle's, but an eagle the color of ink. It struck off toward the south, but then wheeled around, heading back to them. The men and women of Shinra's elite fighting force had seen and done an innumerable amount of things, but the sight of this black thing hurtling across the sky sent thrills of fear through their hearts. Hearts that couldn't remember feeling fear in a long time.

It was a long, hard fall. The splash Sephiroth's body made as it hit the waters of the Grey River echoed through the canyon. For a moment, he sunk, heading down toward the bottom, a cold, alien world of waving grasses and darting silver fish. The feeling of the water flowing over his skin was soothing, and he would have been content to just drift; let the life leak slowly from his body. But he knew he couldn't.

Sephiroth's eyes snapped open. He struck out for the surface with both arms, feeling his brain desperately crying out for oxygen. His limbs were heavy and it felt like he was making no progress at all, but suddenly his face broke out into the cool night air. He swam unhindered to the bank (there wasn't much of a current) and dragged himself up onto dry land. It wasn't until he had ceased all motion that he felt the pain racking his body. Everything hurt, but most of all, an area in his lower chest.

As gently as he could, he unbuttoned his coat, until he was able to work a hand inside his shirt to gauge the damage. His fingertips came away red. He had been shot by the smaller man, Dain, it had been. Sephiroth knew he would die if he didn't get help soon; it was a miracle he had survived the fall at all, and he didn't want to push his luck. But there was no way he could make himself stand up. He barely had the strength to wiggle his big toe, let alone drag himself up a cliff.

So this was how it was going to end. Alone, all alone, without anyone to mourn for him, anyone to remember. At some point, there must have been someone who had cared for him, a mother or a father, or even just a friend. He couldn't remember, no matter how hard he tried. If there ever had been something to his life besides Shinra and Soldier, it was lost to him. The thought almost made him cry. Almost.

The sound of thunder boomed out over the canyon, and Sephiroth noticed for the first time the kiss of rain on his face. He was so wet already that it made a difference. The drops clung to his eyelashes, blurring the dark sky and making it seem like something was moving toward him. But something was moving toward him. A black, silent, winged something.

It alighted on the bank, raising its head. It had the shape of a human man, dressed in dark rags a couple of shades lighter than its skin, which was as black as pitch. Rain ran in rivulets down its body and drenched its hair, pasting it against a face set with bright red eyes. As Sephiroth watched, unable to move, the beast folded its massive wings and took a step forward. He stiffened, not wanting it to come near him. Groaning, he managed to pull himself into a sitting position. The pain in his chest was almost unbearable.

The beast bent down when it reached him. Sephiroth felt around unconsciously for his gun, but it was nowhere to be found. Must likely it was sitting on the bed of the Grey River. The beast opened its eyes wide, and Sephiroth found himself entranced. His whole world had become reduced to those two glowing red orbs. Even the pain was dulling a bit. And then he passed out.

Sephiroth was a good-sized man, tall and muscular. The beast picked him up like he weighed nothing more than a rag doll. It was careful to avoid slicing his arm with its one clawed hand. Then it turned its face back to the storm-tossed sky. Its wings unfurled, and it flapped them experimentally a few times, before launching itself into the air.

It struck off north, toward the mountains and the Shinra Labs.