A/N: Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays/Happy Wednesday everyone! :D

Chapter Seven

The town burned. Leaping flames danced across the houses, blotting out the sight of the stars with smoke. Bodies littered the ground, broken and twisted. The dirt road soaked up the red pooling beneath them. Sephiroth flinched at the sound of a high-pitched, agonized scream. Tifa's scream. The yelling that had been so distinct earlier – her father's voice, coming from within the house – was silent. Sephiroth's gaze traveled from the building back to Tifa, now collapsed on the ground in front of him. Tears streamed down her face. Sephiroth held Masamune at the ready, the blade dripping with fresh blood. She screamed obscenities at Shin-Ra. At SOLDIER. At him.

He looked around him, the screams from other villagers colliding into a single, pain-filled note. As he raised his blade to strike, one nagging question pricked his mind.

Is this the answer I was searching for?

The morning had started early, with the sun just barely hanging above the tree line. Sephiroth trailed his hand over the lapel of his coat, debating whether he should close it against the chill air. Tifa arrived, sporting a similar outfit to what she had worn yesterday – her stomach uncovered and her legs bare under a short skirt. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at the lack of protection from the elements, but opted not to comment. Supposedly, she was the best guide in Nibelheim. She knew what she was getting into. The pair nodded to each other in greeting before moving to leave.

"Sephiroth!"

The soldier and the girl stopped, Sephiroth turning back in question as Tifa rolled her eyes. Mayor Lockhart was trudging up the hill after them, followed by a young man with a camera hanging from his neck, and an older man with a long beard and an obnoxiously bright red cape.

"You keep our conversation in mind," Lockhart said, eyeing Sephiroth with a look as chilled as the air around them. Sephiroth regarded him with a flat expression, but nodded all the same.

"Tifa," the man with the cape spoke, his bulging muscles flexing. "Remember your training and you will succeed!" He flipped his cape haughtily over his shoulder for emphasis. Sephiroth resisted the urge to imitate Tifa's earlier eye-roll. The youngest man raised his camera, but faltered at Sephiroth's immediate glare.

"Uh," the man swallowed, suddenly much more nervous than before. "Cou-Could I trouble you two for a picture? Just to commemorate the occasion." He gestured at Sephiroth. "It's not often we get someone so famous in these parts."

Sephiroth turned away briskly, his coat flaring out behind him as he strode along the path. The cameraman's hopeful face fell instantly. Tifa glanced at the soldier as he passed, and then waved to the others. "Sorry, Rodney! We'll be back later, Papa, Master Zangan!" She darted off after Sephiroth, boots pounding the rocky incline as she caught up. She made her way around the other and began to take the lead. She made no remark, seemingly content to occasionally stare at Sephiroth with a perplexed expression. Sephiroth could sense her desire to start talking, but he ignored her with the hope that it would keep her quiet.

His headache was worse today.

Tifa had been strolling along peacefully, hands held behind her back as she gazed at the scenic view of Mt. Nibel. They had managed to hike for almost a quarter of an hour in silence. That, Sephiroth decided, was the teen's limit.

"Sooo," she started. Sephiroth groaned inwardly. "Mind telling me what that was about?"

"What."

"Uh, hello?" Tifa turned her gaze to him now, frowning. "Brushing Rodney off like that? He didn't mean any harm – he's just a fan." She moved her arms to cross them over her chest, her demeanor disapproving. "Would it have killed you to have one picture taken?"

"Possibly."

Tifa slowed and watched him for a few moments. Her tone had sounded to Sephiroth oddly reminiscent of Angeal. At least, when Angeal had lectured him about breaking some social convention or another. He suspected this was once again the case. The idea of an Angeal-length lecture from the girl in front of him was irksome. He kept his hands at his sides, willing himself not to rub his temples. His head gave another throb.

"You're in a bad mood today," Tifa observed.

Sephiroth shot her a glare that would have gotten even the First Class SOLDIERs to fall back. Tifa flinched, but was otherwise unaffected. Still watching him with those eyes. Curious eyes. Confused. And one expression Sephiroth hadn't seen directed at him in so long that it took him a moment to place it.

Worry.

"Any particular reason why?" Tifa pressed, leading him left at a set of crossroads.

"Headache," he responded. As if on cue, his head pulsed with pain. Sleep had not dulled it any.

"You should try using a Cure materia," Tifa suggested. "That helps sometimes."

"I don't have any."

Tifa bristled, her stare incredulous. "How could a SOLDIER First not carry a Cure?"

"I have Restore," Sephiroth elaborated. His frown deepened. Talking was just exacerbating the dull throbbing in his head. He breathed deeply, shutting his eyes as if he could simply will the headache to cease. "It's materia developed by Shin-Ra. It works differently." His fingers brushed over the shining orbs in his armlet. "The results are similar, but processed materia is not as effective as the natural variety."

Tifa hummed in understanding. "Okay…but…Are you sure it's just the headache bothering you?" She stopped walking. Sephiroth continued a few paces before he shot her a questioning look over his shoulder. "The stuff in the mansion," she clarified.

This time even all of his extensive training could not help him resist the urge to massage his temples. "Those books…" the words caught in his throat. They need to be read. He peered at Tifa through his fingers, the girl waiting patiently to lead him to the reactor. His actual mission. Slowly, the words he had meant to say unstuck themselves. "They can wait."

"And," she leaned forward, her hands on her hips. "The dead guy in the basement?"

"…After the reactor."

Tifa nodded with a smile. She walked past him, taking the lead once more. "Good."

The path thinned, and Sephiroth spotted a rickety rope bridge ahead of them. The wind had picked up at the higher elevation, swaying the bridge dangerously. Tifa didn't hesitate, strolling onto the bridge as confidently as if it had been made of stone. And not above what appeared to be a several hundred foot drop. Sephiroth paused, eyeing the bridge with a wary gaze before following.

"So, I was wondering," Tifa said, one hand holding the rope railing. "Where are you from, Sephiroth?"

The soldier scoffed. The girl had far too many questions. "Who knows," he answered, forgetting to mask the bitterness in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Tifa had turned back to study his face again.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in irritation. "It's unimportant," he said. He held his head in his hand again and added, "Hush." Tifa's jaw dropped in indignation. Before she could make a retort, Sephiroth held up his other hand. "Talking makes it worse." He missed her expression softening as she turned away and continued up the bridge. Sephiroth, managing to ignore his head long enough to move again, made to follow. An odd noise caused him to stop mid-stride. The wind rushed around him, but now that Tifa was quiet he could hear a faint voice.

"Tifa. Stop."

The girl spun around with a huff. "What?"

Sephiroth held a finger up to his lips, and she placed her hand over her mouth. He approached her slowly, straining to hear against the roar of air around them and the creaking of the bridge. The faint voice called again, deep and rumbling. He searched the cliffs around them, trying to pinpoint a source without any success. The wind slowed momentarily, and the voice spoke louder.

"S…Cells…"

"Sephiroth, there! That's one of the monsters!" Tifa leaned over the bridge, pointing somewhere beneath it. Sephiroth followed her gaze to the edge of the bridge that they had been approaching. Underneath the wood he could make out the form of something red. Humanoid.

A Genesis copy.

Bright red, armor-like protrusions jutted out from its black skin. The elongated fingers of one hand clamped tightly around cliff face as its small, black wing flapped feebly to steady it. Sephiroth had barely recognized that it was what Shin-Ra classified a G Devastator type when the creature lifted a large black and red scythe. He tried to make a grab for Tifa's arm, but too late. The scythe sliced cleanly through the ropes, disconnecting the bridge, and removing the one thing between the pair and the gorge below.

Sephiroth pushed himself off the ground, muscles straining from the beating he had just taken. He had to admit, he wasn't particularly fond of falling down the sides of rocky cliffs. A quick check revealed that he was covered in small cuts and bruises, along with a sizable dent in his left pauldron, but otherwise he was unscathed. Brushing some dust and remnants of rock off of his coat, he stood and looked around. Jagged rocks were scattered about the area. Lucky that I didn't hit them, he thought. But Tifa—to his right, he spotted her. Tifa lay sprawled on the ground not far from him, her arm bleeding from a long gash. He knelt next to her, checking for other injuries. Finding nothing serious, he removed a glove and touched his fingers to her neck to feel for a pulse.

There. Her blood pumped strongly against his fingertips. He nudged her, but the girl didn't stir. Unconscious. Sephiroth tapped into the Revive he'd equipped in his sword, the light of the spell sparkling as it mended Tifa's wounds. Within seconds, she groaned and sat up.

"Where…What…?" She rubbed her head confusedly. Upon finding only a head of hair, she searched the ground for her hat.

"Behind you."

"Oh!" Tifa's eyes lit up as she retrieved the Stetson and placed it back on her head. "Thanks. So what…?"

"We fell," Sephiroth said blandly. "You were knocked out."

"Really," Tifa smirked. "I never would have guessed." Suddenly, her eyes widened as she looked at him. Sephiroth spotted her grin before she covered her mouth with her hands. "You're a mess!"

"I'm fine." Sephiroth shrugged. The damage he'd retained was minimal. Nothing worth being concerned about.

"No," Tifa snickered. "I meant—Your hair is a mess."

Sephiroth ran his gloveless hand through the silver locks irritably. Sure enough, his fingers caught in several knots. He worked through them quickly as Tifa laughed. He glared and stood up again.

"Don't you ever tie it up?" Tifa asked from her seat on the ground. "Having it that long must be a pain."

"No."

The girl tilted her head as she regarded the soldier, still combing his hand through his hair. "You could braid it. Maybe tie it up in a ribbon!"

Sephiroth grimaced at her. "Absolutely not."

"I bet it would look good!" Tifa said in a sing-song voice. She hopped to her feet, stretching.

"Can you get us to the reactor from here?"

"Well, I haven't come down here before," Tifa turned around several times, taking in the barren landscape. Stopping, she pointed to a nearby cave leading into the side of the mountain. "If we can get higher up by going through there, I think I can manage."

"Then let's go." Sephiroth took long strides over to the cave, Tifa still chuckling behind him.

The detour to the reactor was a long one, but despite Tifa stopping several times to admire a view or a mako fountain, the pair made good time. Sephiroth hiked at higher alert than he had before the bridge, but for all his attention no other copies appeared. He cut down the odd Kyuvilduns as they crossed their path, irritated. Genesis should know that the fall hadn't killed them. Some of the man's lackeys could fly, after all. And yet, they had climbed almost all the way up to the reactor largely unopposed. The Devastator from earlier was nowhere to be seen. Native monsters had started appearing with increasing frequency, but it wasn't unusual considering their distance from Nibelheim's source of mako. Sephiroth fried another group of monsters with a Bolt 3-All, and found himself standing only a few yards away from their goal.

"Made it!" Tifa cheered, jumping and then running toward the building. Sephiroth hummed idly and checked his PHS for the time. Only half an hour's delay. Satisfied, he placed the device in his coat pocket and walked toward the entrance.

"Help me."

Sephiroth stopped. Where…? He was certain he had heard someone, but the only person he could see was Tifa.

"What's wrong?" The girl tapped her foot as she waited for him.

"Do you—"

"Help me, Sephiroth."

The soldier's eyes were wide as he searched the area again. The voice had sounded faint, but nothing like the copy they had heard earlier. This one was airy. Gentle. And yet…sinister. When Tifa continued to stare at him, Sephiroth turned to her.

"Do you hear someone?"

Tifa blinked in confusion, but then cupped her ears with her hands. After a moment, she closed her eyes, listening intently.

"Help."

"That," Sephiroth said assuredly. It should have been loud enough for non-enhanced hearing then. "Did you hear that?"

"No…" Tifa opened her eyes and shook her head. Her lips tightened into a small frown. "I don't hear anything."

Sephiroth stared at her. She didn't appear to be lying, but she should have been able to hear something. Unless only he could hear it. He scoffed inwardly. That couldn't be right, but he couldn't be imagining it either. It was too loud. Too close and clear. He entertained the idea that it might be some side effect to his persistent headache, but wrote it off almost immediately. This was nonsense.

"Come to me."

There. His eyes were drawn back to the reactor. The voice he was hearing was coming from inside. He walked past Tifa and began to ascend the stairs. When the girl followed, he held a hand out to block her way.

"Wait here. This is Shin-Ra property."

"You mean like the mansion was Shin-Ra property?" Tifa smiled. When Sephiroth didn't comment, her face fell. "Wait, you're serious?"

Sephiroth placed his hand on the hilt of Masamune meaningfully. "You will stay here. Do not make me force you." His tone held no room for argument. The defiance he saw so commonly in Tifa's age group all but evaporated at the sight of his sword. With an annoyed pout, she sat on the stairs and began to sulk. Sephiroth watched her a moment before entering the building without another word.

An expanse of piping and machinery was laid out before him. The sharp, putrid stench of condensed mako assaulted his nose. Sephiroth stepped along a steel walkway and made his way to a haphazard ladder. Before he descended, he shot an Ice spell at the entrance. A pointed shard impaled itself in the wall, and his action was rewarded with a surprised shriek.

"Don't think I can't hear you," he told Tifa, who glared but made no move to follow him. With a smirk of his own, Sephiroth climbed down and traveled deeper into the reactor.

Coming upon a large room filled with several levels of pods, Sephiroth searched for something Genesis might have cannibalized to make his copies. Or the source of the voice. A loose valve to his left caught his eye. Seeing nothing else but the pods, which were only connected to tubes of mako, he approached it. It only took him a moment to fix the valve, but as he stared at it his brows knitted.

"Why did it break…?" His head turned to the pod closest to him. It was large – considerably taller than himself, and he towered over Zack's 6'3". Above his head was a small circular window, not unlike a porthole. He grabbed ahold of it and pulled himself up to look inside.

The sight that greeted him almost made him lose his grip. Monsters, he thought. The icy gray-blue of the creature's mutated skin was being saturated in pure mako. But as he forced himself to study the creature further, he had to rethink his hypothesis. It was nothing like a Genesis copy, or even one of Angeal's. However, the face of the thing in the pod was distinctly, eerily, human.

"Help, please."

Sephiroth fell from his perch, startled. The voice had gotten louder. Stronger. But the pod creature hadn't moved, so it couldn't be the source. The sound of pressurized steam and the crackle of electricity drew his attention upward, to another pod that was in the process of breaking open. Sephiroth watched in revulsion as the front broke off and fell forward. Another mako-soaked creature fell on top of it. The cry of pain that issued from its mouth made Sephiroth flinch – there was no more doubt. It was a hauntingly human noise. Its bright red legs, only partially covered in its otherwise hard mako shell, were motionless as the creature writhed.

Sephiroth's jaw set. This was not Genesis' doing. This was one of Hojo's projects. Using a reactor to hide his most grotesque work, just as Hollander had done. Or copied.

What were you doing here, Hojo? The notes in the mansion. The dead Turk. Now monster-human hybrids incubated in the depths of a remote mako reactor. There had to be a reason for so many of Hojo's pet projects to be here.

"Sephiroth."

His head snapped up at the voice. From this angle, he could now see a large plaque that had been blocked by the wiring in the ceiling. Sephiroth stiffened as he stared at the name.

"Help me," pleaded the voice. "Help me, my dear child."

JENOVA.

Jenova, his mother. Hojo had put her here. "But why…?" Sephiroth breathed, unable to tear his eyes away from the plaque.

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess."

Sephiroth glowered. He didn't have to see who had just walked in. "Genesis."

"Hello, old friend," the other said, his voice low and calm. "Come to see where you were created?"

Sephiroth turned at that. He looked over his decaying friend – Streaks of white in once auburn hair covered his head like a bad dye job. His skin was discolored, cracked and broken. Genesis wore his old SOLDIER uniform still, the brilliant red of his coat having long-since faded. The leather was in desperate need of repair. The deformed wing that had sprouted from his left shoulder drooped wearily. Sephiroth tilted his head curiously at the man's appearance. Even his clothes seemed to have degraded with the way the seams were splitting. He wasn't sure how the other had managed that.

"Well?" Genesis prodded, ever-present smirk on his face in spite of the degradation.

"…Explain," said Sephiroth simply.

"You were the greatest monster created by the Jenova Project," Genesis said smugly. He walked up the steps toward Sephiroth gesturing wide at the room. "The project using Jenova's cells. All this work, all the secrets, all to create the perfect monster."

"My mother's…cells." Sephiroth said the words slowly, barely processing them.

"Son, come to me."

He looked away from Genesis, gaze returning to the plaque. His mother's cells. His mother, the monster. I am a monster. That was what Genesis was saying, wasn't it? But the notes in the library had named her a Cetra. A higher being. Better than everyone else.

Mine is a special existence…

Sephiroth brushed past the ex-soldier, approaching the door leading into Jenova's chamber. His hand touched the steel gently. His mother was through this door. Waiting.

"Sephiroth," Genesis' voice floated to his ears, the sound echoing eerily. "I need your help."

Keeping his hand on the door, Sephiroth turned. He regarded Genesis with curiosity. Hadn't he determined to fight him? At this point Sephiroth was finding it hard to concern himself with the fact that Genesis was here in the first place.

"My body is continuing to degrade," Genesis said as he leaned against one of the pods. "Unlike mine and Angeal's, your traits cannot be copied unto others. Your body cannot degrade." He waved a hand lazily at Sephiroth's form, now fully healed since his fall from the bridge.

Sephiroth's lips parted slightly. He knew where this was going.

"My friend," Genesis quoted, hand over his heart dramatically. As he used to do. As he did when he, Angeal, and Sephiroth hung out in the training room. "Your desire," he pulled a Banora White from behind him, holding it out to Sephiroth with theatrical elegance. "Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess!"

He needs my cells, Sephiroth noted, staring at the dumbapple. A warm feeling engulfed the hand still touching the door. He needs Mother's cells.

"Do not let him in,"Jenova whispered into his mind. Her voice was piercing and soft. Sephiroth's head felt suddenly clear, headache finally gone. A warm, pleasant fuzzy feeling replaced the pain, relaxing him. "He would mutilate me to save himself."

Sephiroth's eyes flashed dangerously at Genesis. The deserter. The traitor. He would do anything to preserve himself. He had already hurt those he'd cared about. His fans. Zack. Sephiroth. Even Angeal. Sephiroth's free hand rested lightly on the hilt of Masamune. Genesis did not deserve his help. Not when he would harm his mother. Not when he had found her at last.

"Protect me."

Only familiarity with fighting Sephiroth allowed Genesis to avoid being immediately impaled on Masamune. The brunet drew his rapier just in time to block the next attack, the force of the blow throwing him down the stairs. The dumbapple he had been holding splattered against the wall. Getting to his feet, he quickly charged his sword with a Firaga, the blade glowing bright as runes formed along the metal. With a yell, Genesis jumped at Sephiroth, shooting off a regular Firaga before landing in front of him.

"Futile," Sephiroth smirked as he deflected the spell. The other man was well aware that he had never beaten Sephiroth in training. Why he thought it would be different now was rather…amusing. Sephiroth swung Masamune in quick strikes, forcing the deserter back against a pod. His katana pushed against Genesis' rapier, pinning him. As Genesis struggled to free himself, Sephiroth smiled.
"You will rot."

Genesis' blue eyes went icy. An angry growl of frustration left his lips, and the brunet triggered the spell in his sword. The air between the soldiers exploded. Sephiroth leapt back in front of Jenova's door, repelling the Firaga with one of his own spells. Genesis, having had nowhere to escape, leaned against the pod heavily, his clothes and skin burnt. His rapier dropped from a hand too injured and degraded to hold its weight. Before he could manage to stand upright, Sephiroth charged again with his sword held high. Genesis pushed off against the pod and narrowly avoided the tip of Masamune, forcing his way toward Sephiroth and tackling him. The pair crashed against the wall, and Sephiroth suddenly found himself thrust against the piping with Genesis' hand around his throat.

"Shall we test your perfection, monster?" Genesis hissed through grit teeth. His free hand ignited in a fire spell, and he slapped it down onto Sephiroth's bare chest. Sephiroth bit back a cry as the fire seared through his belts and burnt into his skin. He swung Masamune up and smashed against Genesis' head with the hilt. The other stumbled, hand still aflame as he tried to grab Sephiroth to regain his balance. He grasped a handful of black trench coat, burning through it before Sephiroth kneed him in the stomach.

As Genesis knelt on the ground, Sephiroth brought Masamune's blade to his neck. "I am no monster," he sneered. "I am superior to you. As I always was. You are just one of Hollander's failures."

Genesis laughed, his voice coarse. "A failure am I? You sound like Hojo." He held out the hand that retained a piece of black leather, the remains of Sephiroth's coat pocket. His PHS had melted from the heat, metal sticking to cloth lining. "All I need to succeed are your cells," he scoffed. "And now that you are isolated, I just need to take them!" The deserter spun, making a short leap to grab his fallen rapier.

Sephiroth pinned the other's shoulder with Masamune before he could reach. He forced his blade down, impaling it into the steel flooring, keeping the brunet down as he kicked the rapier down the stairs. The sword clanged loudly as it ricocheted off the steps, crashing at the bottom. Sephiroth looked to Genesis, burnt, bruised and bleeding. He retrieved Masamune, not bothering to pull it out cleanly. Genesis' pained yell was cut short as Sephiroth delivered a swift kick to his ribcage. The deserter followed the path of his sword, rolling heavily down the stairs. His descent ended halfway down the final set of steps, face down and limbs sprawled. He did not move.

Behind him, Sephiroth heard the swish of an automatic door opening. He approached it, finding his way to his mother clear. Leaving his old friend on the stairs, he walked purposefully through the door.

An obvious path lay before him, leading straight to his goal. Around him were large tanks collected on a large platform, with hazardous material stickers on each one. The tanks were interconnected with sets of pipes, which pumped mako from the reserve below. Wires led up to a large metallic structure. Sephiroth stepped up onto a red pipeline that trailed upward, to the intricate angel that gazed down at him. A constructed angel, made out of metal and copper wire for hair. Her cold steel face looked at him impassively, with an expression tinged with sadness. Sephiroth paid no attention. His goal was so close. He walked slowly up to the metal woman, reaching out as if to embrace her.

"Come to me."

"Don't worry," he said, his voice quiet with awe. His eyes lit up in mirth as he placed his hands on the sides of the angel's torso. "I'm here with you." With a heave, he ripped the angel from its perch, electricity sparking at his feet as the wiring was pulled apart. The angel's head began to smoke, oil running out of its eye socket and down its cheek as it was torn away. The torso caught as the wing-shaped pipes resisted. Sephiroth tugged harder, throwing the structure roughly to the side. Lights flickered, illuminating the area and a large containment unit.

There she was, in all her splendor. Sephiroth pressed his hands against the glass unit – the only thing separating them now. She watched him with catlike pupils, strands of hair floating in the liquid that encased her. Silver hair. Exactly like his. A weak laugh of relief escaped his lips. Of course she had silver hair. She was his mother. Her arms were outstretched, reaching for him. Ready to embrace him. Ready to finally escape her man-made prison.

"Set me free."

He turned Masamune in his hand, angling it to cut through the containment unit. He'd be careful. She wouldn't be harmed. Then they could leave, and he could stay by her moved to slash open her prison.

"Sephiroth!"

The soldier paused, Masamune hanging in the air inches away from the glass. He lowered it and turned, his eyes wide and angry. He glowered at the intruder.

Tifa stood on the platform, panicked and out of breath.

"What is it?!" Sephiroth hissed. The girl cringed and stepped back, her eyes wide. Fear, Sephiroth guessed. Fear of him. Just like everyone else. But, as he looked closer, he couldn't be sure it was directed at him. Tifa was looking over his shoulder. Behind the broken wiring.

At Jenova.

"Sephiroth, what…" Tifa's hands hovered in front of her, almost in a protective stance. Sephiroth could see her disgust plainly written in her expression. "What is that thing?"

His hand tightened around the hilt of Masamune. 'Thing?' She dared to call his mother a thing? This dullard of a girl was looking at the splendor of his mother, a superior being, a Cetra, the way she would a common monster. Jenova was better than that. Better than humans.

For that matter, Tifa shouldn't be in the reactor in the first place. This girl, this pathetic human had dared to disobey him. She should be outside, waiting for him to finish his mission.

His mission.

With a blink, Sephiroth tilted his head. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But his mother had been waiting.

I was supposed to look for Genesis and fix the reactor, he thought. That was all. There had been no mention of Hojo's projects until he had arrived. Sephiroth paused at the thought.

Hojo.

The one who had put everything from the Jenova project in Nibelheim. Zack had questioned who had issued the orders to come here. The mission request flashed briefly in his mind. A director had wanted this mission. Wanted two First Class soldiers to come to a town in the middle of nowhere that just so happened to house the darkest secrets of Sephiroth's existence. His origins. His mother. He turned to see her face again, to reassure himself. To see that he had not gotten himself stuck in another one of Hojo's twisted games.

He nearly dropped his sword into the mako reserve below.

The face that stared back at him wasn't human, yes, but he couldn't say what it was in the first place. Her visible eye glowed an eerie red, and what he had taken for outstretched arms couldn't even be classified as such. Her shoulders angled her arms inward, behind her back. The things he had seen before were mutations. Twisted and broken. They protruded from her shoulders like a set of grotesque wings. Tentacles. And her skin. He paled at the sight of it. It was mutated as well.

It was blue.

Aside from the silver hair and cat-like pupils, there was no resemblance he could see. Sephiroth backed away from her, feeling suddenly nauseous.

"Do not leave me,"he heard her scold. "You are the Chosen One. Together we Cetra will take back the Planet from this wretched species."

A tug on his coat alerted Sephiroth that he had very nearly backed into Tifa. The girl glanced from him, to Jenova, and back again. "What—"

"I will make you a god." Jenova's tone went cold, and yet Sephiroth could still feel that comforting warmth buzzing around his brain.

"Monster," he glared, answering Tifa and accusing the creature that tried to lull him into obedience. He grabbed Tifa by the arm and dragged her from the room, slamming his hand on a control panel to shut the door again.

"DO NOT LEAVE ME," Jenova shrieked. Sephiroth grabbed the side of his head as the buzz from earlier vanished, replaced by a shot of pain that the soldier initially took for a Thundaga. He felt Tifa steady him, leading him carefully down the stairs as he squeezed his eyes shut. With effort, he opened one eye so they could better avoid Genesis, but the stairs were clear.

Genesis, along with his rapier, was gone.

He shut his eye again, relying on Tifa to lead him. His head was exploding with the sound of Jenova's enraged screams. With difficultly he managed to force himself up the ladder, and allowed himself to be hauled out of the building. Once outside, he collapsed to his knees, the pain still throbbing but slowly ebbing away as he got farther from Jenova. He felt a slim hand on his back.

"Are you okay?"

He breathed deeply as Jenova's rage subsided. Looking up, he saw Tifa's worry once again directed at himself. He nodded weakly, moving to stand up again. His chest stung, and he fully comprehended the burnt skin, still raw from his fight with Genesis. Standing out of sheer stubbornness, he forced himself to hold stance worthy of a SOLDIER First Class. He addressed Tifa as he cast a Cure 2 on himself.

"Why did you come into the reactor?"

"Because," the panic in the girl's voice had not lessened, "Something's wrong." She ran over to the edge of the cliff they stood on, motioning for Sephiroth to hurry and look. He walked over quickly, his burns healing but still pricking painfully at his chest. From the edge, he could see for miles. He could make out the path they'd used to come to the reactor initially, and the tiny houses of Nibelheim in the distance. His feeling of nausea returned.

Smoke was billowing up from the village.

The pair ran back down the mountain, partly following the path and partly the trail of smoke that led back to Nibelheim. Sephiroth went faster than Tifa, SOLDIER speed combined with blasting the native monsters out of the way with his magic. He reached the village first, their fears confirmed.

Nibelheim was on fire.

A spurt of flame shot out of the window of the house nearest him. He approached cautiously, skin prickling from the immediate change in temperature. From inside the house he heard a weak pounding. He approached it and heard the sound of fists hitting the door, and slow, muffled coughing.

"Get away from the door!" Sephiroth shouted. After a moment's pause with no response, he smashed the door down with a kick. The wood crashed into the house, and Sephiroth ran inside. In the hallway, he found a middle-aged blonde woman sprawled beside a decorative plant. She had fallen, unconscious. Sephiroth cursed and picked her up, carrying her back outside and away from the smoke.

He moved just in time to dodge the curved blade of a Genesis copy. The soldier's eyes narrowed. The copy, a Hoplite, danced back and forth before him, twirling his knives in his hands. It raised an arm to throw one, and then abruptly collapsed.

Master Zangan, hands extended from the chop he had delivered, looked up at Sephiroth with relief. "You have Johanna!" He indicated the unconscious woman in Sephiroth's arms. "Here, give her to me." As the soldier complied, he explained, "These men suddenly attacked the village. I've instructed the survivors to make their way to the caves near here."

"You should get there yourself," Sephiroth commented.

"Of course not!" Zangan said, mortified. "I'll be of more use here. But," he looked sadly at Johanna, "I will get her to safety first. Be careful. I'll be back." Sephiroth nodded, and Zangan ran off.

The soldier began to cast Ice and Earth spells at the nearest flames, snuffing them out. Genesis copies darted between the houses, throwing their blades at him and undoing his progress by lighting more fires. Sephiroth cut down a Centurion before it could shoot at a group of straggling survivors. There were more people running than he'd expected to see from the small town, but it begged the question of how many were left.

Sephiroth glanced back at the mountain path, spotting Tifa running toward him. "My house," she yelled, breathless. "Did you check it?" The soldier shook his head and dashed to the Lockhart home. He paused in front of it, the flames consuming the building too quickly for him to get inside. Tifa stopped beside him, watching the house in horror. "Papa! Wh-Where is he, did he—"

"Tifa?" The mayor's gruff voice carried over the crackling wood. The pair stiffened.

The sound was coming from inside the house.

"Papa, are you okay? Get out of there!"

"I can't," Lockhart replied. Sephiroth's eyes narrowed. The man sounded too calm about being trapped. "There's a support beam blocking the door – I can't get through."

"Then…Then just wait there! I'll break it down!" Tifa lowered her stance, bracing herself. A piece of the roof split and fell in front of her and she faltered. The rubble blocked the entrance, now coated in flames. Tifa searched the front of the house, desperate for some sort of opening. "Papa…"

"Don't you get closer!" Lockhart had regained his stubborn, commanding tone. "It's too dangerous!"

"But-!"

"I said no!" the man yelled. "Where is Sephiroth?!"

"I'm here." The soldier stood straighter. From the sound of the mayor's voice, he'd already concluded there wasn't another way out. No escape. As the wood of the house popped and crackled, Sephiroth prepared a spell to make an opening himself. A loud crash from inside the building halted his plan.

"It won't hold much longer," Lockhart observed. Sephiroth cursed. The structure was no longer stable enough for him to break through without it collapsing. "You gave me your word, Sephiroth!" The mayor's voice had begun to quaver. "I'm holding you to it! Tifa, I—"

There was a loud creak, and Tifa tried to charge at the house to force her way inside. Sephiroth grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her back just as the roof caved in. Beams of wood and shingles crashed down on the front of the house, burying it in rubble. The pair stood there in silent shock, staring at the large hole that was soon filled with fire.

"Papa…?" Tifa shook Sephiroth's hand off, taking a few steps toward her home. When she received no answer, she covered her mouth with her hands, stifling a small whimper. "No…NO!" Sephiroth winced as she screamed, her legs giving out beneath her. Tears fell freely from her eyes, cutting thin rivers in the dirt and ash on her cheeks.

Sephiroth's free hand twitched uselessly. A SOLDIER could have possibly survived that. A regular man, however… Sephiroth turned his head away. Lockhart would answer his daughter's cries if he could. The enhanced hearing that had proved so useful to the soldier picked up nothing but the burning house.

"…you." Sephiroth snapped to attention. Tifa's voice was low, and hollow. She turned her head to Sephiroth, shining eyes reflecting the fire around them. "Why didn't you check our house?"

Sephiroth's lips parted, but he couldn't find any words.

"You could have saved him!" The girl yelled. "You're supposed to be the best, you—" Tifa's words were cut off by a choking sob. She slammed her fist on the ground, a layer of ash dispersing from the impact. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A HERO!"

The burns on Sephiroth's chest stung. He looked behind him at the burning town. The flames raged on, dancing across the houses. The sky was dark with smoke. All around him were bodies of copies and civilians; their blood soaking the ground and dyeing it red. Another agonized, frustrated scream from Tifa pierced his ears.

A flash of red cloth caught his attention, and he held Masamune at the ready. Zangan stood before him, eyeing the fresh blood on the blade with concern. Sephiroth brought his sword back down to his side.

"Is the mayor…?" Zangan looked from Tifa to the collapsed house. His face fell with sudden understanding.

"…Get her out of here," Sephiroth ordered.

Tifa's screams grew even louder as her teacher lifted her off the ground. "No—No, put me down! Sephiroth!"

The soldier turned, moving his focus instead on the copies running down from the mansion.

"You-! If Shin-Ra hadn't sent you here…If you hadn't come, then Papa—" Tifa cried as Zangan carried her to safety. "It's your fault! It's all your fault! Shin-Ra, SOLDIER, Sephiroth—"

The soldier's grip tightened on his hilt, willing himself to ignore her.

"I hate you all!"

Sephiroth raised Masamune again, leather gloves creaking. The copies surrounded him, a Prowler leaping at him from above with the help of its wing. A few slashes and spells cut it down, and Sephiroth obliterated the others with a Bolt 3. He resumed putting out the fires by magic, the burning rubble taunting him as it was extinguished.

He had failed this mission.

In the distance he could see the smoke still rising from the Shin-Ra manor. It would be ash by the time he could get there. Any information he might have gleaned from those books – the dead Turk – gone. Burned away to nothing.

Zack was right.

This mission had been doomed from the start. If he'd just listened to the other First – If Zack had been here with him, then he could have stopped Genesis. Been the hero Shin-Ra had always touted him to be. Zack could have helped him figure out why his thoughts had been warped around Jenova. Why his mother was a monster.

Is this the answer I was searching for? His eyes trailed over the smoking destruction. All was quiet now, aside from a few pops as wood split and a small persistent whine. Sephiroth's brows furrowed at the noise. It was shrill and continuous, growing steadily louder until he could no longer hear anything else.

"How dare you abandon your mother," Jenova's words tore into his skull like claws raking along his insides. Sephiroth grit his teeth, free hand grasping his head. He lost sight of the town, seeing instead images of himself, triumphant and gleaming. A halo of light shined behind him. He stood tall and proud, his power at its peak. A god among men. The hero he was meant to be.

Then Jenova ripped the images away, leaving darkness and pain.

"Traitor."