The world is drained of color. The sounds of commotion in the hall and shouts outside fade. Aerith and Nanaki watch him pace, tearing his hair with one hand. Anything associated with Shinra is suddenly poison.
"I...I need to get rid of this uniform. I need to get a different sword. Anyone would recognize it as Shinra-issue. I need to find a way to warn her. To warn anyone in Sector Seven," Cloud speaks fast, exhaling.
He turns to Aerith as if just noticing her and Nanaki.
"You two need to get out of the city. Out of this sector for sure. There will be collateral damage."
"Are you sure Shinra would collapse the plate?" Aerith asks nervously. "That's an extremely catastrophic way to kill one or two people. Maybe they are just saying that to get you to lead them to your friends. Could they be tracking you?"
Cloud rubs the back of his neck. He looks at his phone.
"Maybe. I don't know. But I'm not willing to risk that this is a ruse. Removing the plates was always part of a larger city plan anyways. All top brass have been talking about this Neo-Midgar idea, but it never gained traction. Or so I thought. I don't know, I just overhear things from Hojo or Heidegger."
It's frustrating, this feeling of powerlessness. He can't think fast enough. Can't come up with a plan. He just can't lose her, the only link to Nibelheim. To that day when everything went dark.
Aerith taps her fingers together in thought.
"What about this Don Corneo?" Nanaki says. "He must have contacts in other sectors. Perhaps he can send a message?"
"Right," Aerith grabs the idea. "We could ask anyone here if they can contact a friend or family in Sector Seven. Get the word out that Shinra is going to do this!"
"What if nobody listens?" Cloud argues. "What if the message never reaches Tifa?"
"Tifa?"
"My friend. In Sector Seven. She's laying low, I bet. I doubt she'll be anywhere to overhear anything. Even if someone shows up at that bar, what if she doesn't believe it? This will take too long. But I know she'll believe me."
Nanaki looks up at Cloud. "When will Shinra do this? If you just got an alert, surely they will give their employees time to evacuate."
"I don't know, I don't know…" Cloud intones. "I just have to physically get there. Those gates must have an override."
He falls silent, pacing faster. Aerith toys with the end of her hair in consternation.
"I've heard rumors," she begins, "of the Don's men using underground tunnels to transport pleasure women. If there's any truth to that…"
"Then maybe there's a tunnel to Sector Seven!" Cloud finishes her thought frantically. "Yes! That's it. Let's go pay the Don a visit."
He grabs his sword, sickened at the sight of the Shinra logo stamped on the base of the metal. He hates the colors he wears, the symbol he's become.
"Wait, Cloud! We can't just march up to the Don's palace!"
"Why not?" He's barely listening to her, zipping up his boots.
"Because the Don is dangerous. I've heard he does terrible things to women and won't let men into his compound unless they are his personal thugs. The whole palace—"
"I don't care."
Aerith touches Cloud's arm. He's far away, wrapped in frenzy.
"It's our only lead," he says, pushing her away. "You don't have to come."
She puts her hands on her hips. "Seriously?"
He holds her gaze for a second. "Fine. Then let's go already."
He's out the door. Nanaki bounds after him, and Aerith sighs then follows.
They run into the street. The night is still raging. Drunks and junkies are further along in their inebriation, bars are louder, prostitutes linger for their second or third client of the evening. Everything is too chaotic and in Cloud's way. The Don's palace, audaciously golden under bright rotating lights, is at the center of this spiraling playground of vice.
As they approach, he notices heightened security. Mechanical gun turrets are hidden near neatly trimmed hedges. Armed muscular men patrol the perimeter. They cross an ornate bridge over an artificial moat doubling as a lilypad garden, and between two oversized bronze cuahl statues, they are stopped by four guards.
Cloud tells them he needs to speak with Corneo. It's a matter of life and death. Shinra plans to destroy the next sector over, and he needs to know if the Don has access to Seven. He needs to get a message out. He needs to travel across the border without Shinra knowing.
The urgency falls flat. The guards don't believe him. They smirk and give each other incredulous looks. One guard is clearly undressing Aerith with his eyes, while another keeps commenting how "cool" their "dog" looks, and how much he bets the Don would love an animal like that.
Cloud gets fed up. He threatens the guards. He tries to push past. He draws his sword and is met with guns trained on him from all sides as the compound goes on alert.
"Your fresh Shinra uniform ain't foolin' us," the leader of the guards spits at Cloud. "Unless you plannin' to sell that girl of yours or that dog, the Don ain't gonna see ya."
Cloud seethes. The red laser dots on his chest from the guns stationed on the roof don't waver. He can't believe how bullheaded these idiots are.
Aerith gently touches his elbow.
"Let's go," she whispers. "We'll find another way in."
Cloud knows he can take on these guards. He's not scared of bullets and certainly not of any lowlife thugs in the slums, regardless of how many surround him. But Aerith is vulnerable. He's supposed to protect her. He feels that obligation even without Hojo's demand. He can't bring her into an all-out firefight. Or Nanaki.
He sheathes the sword and cuts away sharply, stalking back down the courtyard into the crowded district below.
"Ugh, I need a shower after those guys!" Aerith says, shaking free of those stares once they are clear.
"If there is an underground tunnel below the palace," Cloud says, "I don't even need to talk to Corneo. Just have to get inside and we can find it, if it exists."
"Well, we can't just march up to the front door anymore now that we've provoked them."
Cloud crosses his arms, thinking.
"I can get inside," Aerith suggests. "And scope it out."
"No way. What if they… don't let you back out? You said something about Corneo torturing women. There's no way you're going in there alone."
"What if Nanaki comes?"
"No," Cloud says. "Out of the question. I'm not putting your lives in danger, too."
Condemning Tifa to death is enough. He takes a deep breath.
"What if you came with us?" Aerith asks, a plan brewing. Her tone is curious. Playful.
Before he can reply with appropriate apprehension, a crew approaches from the direction of the palace.
"Hey, asshole," a voice says to Cloud.
Cloud turns just as a baseball bat studded with nails slams into his face. The metal tips pound into his brow and cheekbone, sending him reeling. Aerith screams. His vision blurs. Blood streams into his eyes. He's up, retrieving his sword, to find the attacker standing over him, bat in hand. There are at least five other miscreants holding crude melee weapons, and they are attracting a sudden crowd.
Two thugs grab at Aerith. She evades one, twists free of the other after a vicious kick. Nanaki rips at one man's calf. Cloud can't stay focused on his companions for long. Another blow from the nail bat soars towards him and he barely dodges. It's difficult to see with all this blood in his face.
"How the fuck you still standin' after a hit like that?" the nail-bat owner hisses at Cloud.
The bat swings again and Cloud blocks it, pushing back then slicing it in half with his sword. Momentum carries the killing arc through the man's chest, spraying onto a startled onlooker.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees someone with an oddly large net. It seems so out of place. Aerith is holding her own, back-to-back with Cloud now. The crowd jeers around them.
Another enemy cuts towards Cloud and he responds by dismembering the man in two slashes at the shoulders. The amputated limbs fall with a thud. Dirt mixes to red mud beneath them. The crowd begins to fall back, realizing this fight is far more lethal than the typical bar brawls they are accustomed to. Cloud wipes his eyes, feels Aerith closeby. Rivulets of blood are streaming into his mouth down his face.
Nanaki howls. He's been tangled in a net, hauled by one of the thugs. The captor shoots a dart into his furry neck, and Nanaki goes limp.
"No!" Cloud shouts and rushes forward, sword angled to destroy the perpetrator.
But Nanaki is thrown onto the back of a pick-up truck, and the driver takes off. Cloud runs after the truck at top speed, but it's no use. He's fast, but not that fast. The truck careens down a narrow alley winding towards Corneo's compound and vanishes into a garage underground. Cloud ceases at the perimeter and rubs his hands down his face in total dismay.
This could not get worse.
Aerith arrives, panting.
"Would you stop running so damn fast everywhere?!" she berates.
"He's gone," Cloud reports, sullen.
Aerith looks beyond at the sealed garage heading into the palace.
"We'll just have to go get him then!" she says, as if it were that simple. "We wanted to get in there anyways. We'll just make a detour to find him."
"Right, but how are we getting in? We're losing time!"
Aerith catches her breath.
"I have an idea, but you might not like it."
"I will do anything. I don't care."
That mischievous look comes back to her eyes.
"Only women are allowed in, they said…"
"...So you want me to dress like a woman," Cloud guesses.
"Bingo."
He sighs. "Honestly? Fine, whatever. I really don't care at this point. I just want to find Nanaki and get to Sector Seven."
They head to the thick of Wall Market, avoiding the talkative gathering near the corpses Cloud left behind. They duck into an alley of half-conscious junkies, and Cloud heals the deep ruptures on his face. Aerith seems shocked he survived such a brutal hit.
"You'll need makeup to cover those marks," she says.
The materia healed his skin but the fresh flesh is still flecked with pink where the nails entered.
"Whatever. Sure. Let's just hurry."
His Shinra identity was doing them no favors anyways. He spots a weapons shop and enters. He wants to exchange his Shinra-issue broadsword and sees a massive cleaver-type weapon, a Hardedge. It looks positively cruel. He likes it.
"But can it be concealed inside a dress," Aerith says in a way that means he needs to find something slimmer.
He settles for a thin long blade. Suboptimal, but easily carried if he positions it down his spine. He just won't be able to sit. But that won't be a problem because once they're inside he can tear off whatever restrictive thing he's bound to be wearing.
He pops the socketed materia from the old sword into the new. The Restore from the dead woman. The Ice from… hmm, he can't remember where or when he acquired this one. He's just always had it. Gil is exchanged, and he leaves with a trusty new sword.
Next, shed the uniform. They head to a clothing shop. There's no telling what they will face in Seven, and he wants to minimize any chance of someone recognizing photos of them. It feels nice to throw that First-Class attire in the trash.
Aerith chooses a long purple dress for Cloud, billowy enough to conceal the sword, a high neckline to keep the muscles of his pecs underwraps.
"Good thing you're built like a dancer and not a brute," she comments, zipping up the back for him. The sword fits but it's a bit obvious. "Hmm, we'll need a nice long wig for you."
She selects a silky red gown for herself, complete with a deep slit up the leg and slinky straps.
"This is costing nearly all my gil," Cloud grumbles. But what would money matter once he got to Tifa?
Aerith pulls her hair up into a messy bun complete with ringlets framing her face. The new look is attractive.
"We look hot," she comments as they stand in front of the mirror.
"Can we just go?" Cloud huffs.
Aerith stops at the item shop, purchasing a cheap makeup set and quickly covering Cloud's face with concealer and blush. She darkens the lids of her eyes and puts on pink lipstick. It's not exactly the best, but it achieves the goal of altering their appearances enough so nobody at Corneo's palace entry could recognize them. Unless they look really hard. Aerith hopes her low neckline will keep the thugs occupied enough to let them in. She hates using her body this way, but it's only a means to an end.
A long blonde wig is the next piece of the puzzle, but they can only find a shop carrying hair extensions in the shade closest to Cloud's natural color, so it'll have to do. The long waves and deep blush gives him the appearance of a disheveled party girl. Perfect for a fun night out.
"Are we done yet?" he asks.
Not yet. Because he smells like a combination of subtle chemicals and sweat. They purchase tantalizing perfume at the pharmacy, and jeweled barrettes for Cloud's hair to complete the look. Aerith puts on a long glittering necklace, leading any man's eye into her bosom.
It takes over an hour, but their transformation is complete.
"This is ridiculous. And it better work," Cloud says.
"Just let me do the talking," Aerith replies. She braids a few strands down the front of Cloud's hair. Then she nods her approval. "Let's go."
They walk arm-in-arm like two drunk girls up to the palace.
This time, the guards do not raise their weapons. They relax and lick their lips. Aerith addresses the leader as if they've never met before. Cloud averts his gaze, doing everything in his power to keep his anger in check. He wants to beat the shit out of the guard running his hand on Aerith's shoulder, down her arm, as she tells him she's here by special request for the Don.
"You're late," the guard tells her. "The audition's already started. But you and your cute friend can keep me company all night."
He grabs Aerith hands and puts it on his cock, hard through his pants. Cloud literally bites his lip. Aerith caresses the guard a bit, then tenderly pulls away. The Don will be really upset if she's not there, she insists.
"Can't you please let us in?" Her demure tone is infallible.
The guard considers and looks over at his companions.
"The last girl went in an hour ago," one says to him. "Maybe these two will be leftover for us when the Don's through."
The guards let them through, with clear instructions to go straight up to Corneo's private waiting room. Aerith blows a kiss and pulls Cloud into the grand palatial entry.
The doors to Wall Market slam shut behind them, locking. The foyer is a spectacular display of wealth. A marble double-staircase is bordered by opulent sculptures made of precious stones, and the walls are adorned with the mounted heads of endangered species. A chandelier of shimmering crystal hangs low from the center of the ceiling.
There's only one guard in here, who points towards the upper floor. Aerith winks and grabs Cloud's hand, escorting him up.
"The tunnels we want will not be upstairs," Cloud whispers.
Aerith elbows him to keep quiet.
There's a set of doors at the top of the staircase, and within is a seating area covered with plush cushions, drapey curtains, and empty champagne flutes. Discarded items of clothing are strewn about. Aerith wryly notes that they missed the party. Cloud can't stop fiddling with his fake hair. It's distracting, and the material of the dress itches his arms.
But there's no sign of Nanaki. There are, however, four doors, all locked. Aerith picks one open with two hairpins, and they venture off down a long hallway painted gold. Lewd paintings of a weasley bald man adorn the decor. Aerith gags as the state of the subject's disrobement advances the further they wander.
Yet each door only leads to another lavish empty room or another glittering hallway. The palace is spotless yet they see no servants. It's oddly quiet.
After walking through a series of bedrooms, each themed and complete with plenty of erotic toys, they reach another dead end in a pillowed lowlit room. This palace is a nightmare of expensive fabric and engineered disorientation. They haven't seen a single other person.
"Where the hell did they take him?" Cloud slams his fist against the wall.
And he hears a hollow rattle. Aerith hears it, too. She presses one ear to the wall and knocks several times in different spots.
"It's hollow. There's a passage back there," she says.
They immediately search for a hidden switch or key. Cloud finds it beneath the fireplace mantle, a tiny knob. The button reveals a secret door leading into a crawl space lit by a string of hanging bulbs.
When they enter, the door slides shut behind them. Cloud tries to catch it, but they are trapped. There's no way back; this side is locked with a keyhole. There is a long shadowy corridor ahead. They follow it down two stories, twisting and turning past peepholes showcasing other bedrooms. Most are empty, beds ravaged. There are two unconscious women in one, naked across the sheets.
They continue down until the passage terminates in a completely different part of the palace.
The glitz and glitter is gone. This room is a lurid dark chamber of red and black. There is no bed, no cushions. Only hard wood tables with leather restraints, metal chairs, barbed whips, and innumerous torturous implements. Cloud and Aerith do not know what to say or even how to proceed. There's blood on one of the tables, a cut-off finger near a cleaver, long strands of different colored hair caught in the mechanism of some crushing device. Womens' shoes are piled in one corner.
"I think I'm going to be sick…" Aerith murmurs.
"It's okay," Cloud reassures, though it's certainly not okay whatever the Don has been doing. "I-I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you."
He can still reach the sword through his dress, though he'd have to rip it off to actually unsheathe the weapon. At least he was able to keep all his regular clothes on underneath.
Sudden voices come from the door beyond. Two men talking. But there are no other exits and no place to hide. The passageway has closed. One voice is yelling, shrieking like an unhappy child. Aerith stands behind Cloud just as the door swings open.
A short fat man in nothing but a velvet robe and boxers stares at them in disbelief. A tall man in a suit is with him. Neither are surprised or angry.
The short man grins. A deep chuckle emanates from his bare chest.
"Oh, well, well, well… Two lovely ladies in my favorite room." He leans over to the suit. "You didn't tell me I had two more."
The suit looks worried. "They, uh, weren't on the list. Certainly shouldn't be awake."
"No matter," the short man says. "The auditions are over, but none of those girls pleased me. So perhaps I extend the deadline for submissions."
His eyes take in Cloud, who remains stock-still. This fat lecherous man must be Don Corneo. It stinks of oversaturated cologne as the man comes forward.
"Yes, yes, these two are delicious. I think it's my lucky night."
The suit remains in the hall while Corneo gets close. The whole situation is so bizarre, Cloud doesn't know how to react.
"Gorgeous," Corneo remarks of Aerith, touching her hair.
He snakes one arm down her back, cupping her ass, penis visibly twitching in his boxers. Cloud pulls Aerith to him, out of Corneo's reach, and the Don snorts with mild interest. He grasps Cloud by the jaw and edges his thumb into Cloud's mouth.
Cloud smacks the hand away with force. The Don squeals in delight.
"Oh, I like you! Yes, you're the one for tonight. You are the one I need to tame." He snaps at the man in the hall. "Prepare my bedroom." The suit disappears in obedience. Then to Cloud he says, "I enjoy a girl who puts up a fight."
"Then you'll really love me," Cloud says, and he unsheathes the sword in one single motion.
The violet dress tears off, and he rips it aside. The charade has no further purpose now that they located Corneo and have him alone.
"Wh-wh-what!?" the Don stammers, "What is the meaning of this?"
Aerith locks the door, sliding the deadbolt into place so the suit can't return. There are numerous padlocks she leaves untouched. Cloud shoves the tip of the sword to Corneo's throat.
"You are holding a friend of mine here," Cloud says. "A beast with a fiery tail. Where is he?"
Corneo holds up his hands, shaking. The erection through his boxers goes limp. He feigns ignorance, claiming he knows nothing of any animal. Cloud glares and slices at the Don's cheek. Blood weeps like a teardrop.
"The next one is going between your legs, so start talking," Cloud warns.
The Don doesn't give up any information, blubbering and backing away. Cloud pursues, sword steady on the fat man's chest. Aerith is by his side.
"Where is he?" Cloud repeats, violence clear in his intent.
The sword snips below Corneo's belly. He positively screams, palm curled around the fresh cut. There's no knocking at the door. No guards coming to his aid.
"Scream in this room often, huh?" Cloud says. "Seems nobody is coming to help you."
"Y-y-you're insane!"
The sword punctures Corneo again, sliding between ribs. The wounds aren't deep enough for permanent damage, but he cries and begs like a man faced with death anyways, backing into the corner of his torture room. Cloud advances.
"Where is my friend? Last chance before I start cutting things off."
"Alright, alright, you fucking psycho," the Don says. "You break into my home and threaten me, and honestly, we could've just talked it out. You didn't have to-to-to hurt me like this!"
His back is up against the wall. His hand grips the wood table behind him, but there is nothing there to help him. Only a woman's discarded bra. Aerith and Cloud lean forward.
"So tell us!" Aerith pushes.
Corneo scoots back a little more. Cloud keeps the sword pressing on his skin.
The pathetic sobs suddenly stop. The Don gives them both an evil grin as his hands press something beneath the table.
A trapdoor opens beneath Cloud, and he plummets down. Aerith slips over the edge after him. Corneo's laughter echoes above as Cloud falls. His back hits something mushy and wet. Pain cracks up his ribs. He throws the sword aside just as Aerith lands on top of him, cushioned by his body and knocking the wind out of his lungs.
Then the rectangle of light far above is blotted out. And a horrible stench fills his throat. The Don's laughter fades as the trapdoor above is shut.
Aerith hops off Cloud and retches. It's pitch-black, and hot and sticky. The air is dense with something rotting.
"You okay?" Cloud wheezes, groping around in the mucky water for his sword. There are slimy cold things, soft and pungent, all around. He finds the sword and wipes the hilt clean as best he can.
"I think so…" Aerith responds. "But what is that awful smell?"
"Shh!"
There's a sloshing sound somewhere near, like footsteps in shallow water, but not human. He holds out his hand to find Aerith. She wraps her arm around his. His eyes are adjusting to the dark, but he still cannot see much, just the amorphous outline of a vaulted underground tunnel and piles of what looks like bodies nearby. He can see the closest decaying corpses are women. Pus-crusted wounds wriggle with worms. Some are still wearing fragments of silky lingerie. Algae grows dark over sunken flesh. The Don has been disposing of corpses through that door.
The sloshing sound is getting closer. There's a faint light source approaching. Cloud readies his sword, keeping eyes ahead. The sloshing has a pattern to it, three beats then something dragging. Whatever it is, Cloud is ready. Aerith squeezes fingernails into his skin.
The light source rounds the corner of the tunnel up ahead.
"Cloud?" Nanaki's voice echoes. "That you?"
Cloud exhales in relief and wades through the vile water. The flickering tail illuminates just enough that he can see Nanaki is wounded. One haunch is lifted and swollen, the paw bloody.
"We can barely see in here. Are you alright? How did you get here?" Cloud asks.
"Same as you, I think," Nanaki replies. "Corneo quickly grew tired of my not-so-doglike behavior once he realized I wasn't going to eat one of his ladies. And I can see quite well in the dark. We appear to be in the sewer systems, as well as Cornero's personal dumping ground."
"It's sickening!" Aerith exclaims. "How is he able to get away with this?"
Cloud is already past thinking of Corneo. "Sewers? Do you think this leads to the next Sector? Can we get to Seven from here?" he asks Nanaki.
The animal shrugs. "I haven't been able to venture far. I broke my leg in the fall."
Cloud crafts a healing swirl of energy from the slotted Restore. The brilliant shine of green light illuminates the entire cavern, and for a moment everyone can see clearly the tunnels stretching in three directions and the contortion of body parts putrefying in the open air. The materia sets Nanaki's bone and heals his skin. Dried blood remains matted on his fur, but he nods his deep thanks.
In the light from the materia, Cloud thought he also saw signs graffitied on the walls. He asks Nanaki to take a look. Sure enough, the signs designate Sector Six flow as well as pumping and treatment facilities nearby.
"Which way to Seven?" is all Cloud wants to know. Finally, their plan is going somewhere.
Nanaki isn't sure. But there is a sign for Five.
"Surely Seven is the opposite, then," Cloud reasons and marches off.
The sewers are humid and warm, and crawling with mutated insects and giant carnivorous worms. Nanaki's tail provides the only source of light, which also unfortunately attracts the critters. Aerith finds a broken chunk of piping and swings it around like a staff, bludgeoning leeches and squashing carapaces. Cloud is once more intrigued with how well she fights. Skittering spiders, double the size of his torso, are no match for the trio, though he gets a nasty faceful of webbing once or twice.
"Yuk." He brushes tiny spiders from his hair, tearing off the extensions and shaking his head free.
At every junction, Nanaki examines the signage, holding his tail up so Cloud and Aerith can get a good look, too. They are getting further from Five, closer to intake for Six. Cloud hurries. Every delay means one less second for Tifa's escape. His boots are soaked, his clothes stink, and he's starting to shiver despite the heat. Exhaustion is creeping in.
They wander for hours, combating skittering monsters and doubling back twice when they hit dead-ends. The water changes from stagnant pools to rushing drains, and they walk along concrete catwalks in the half-darkness for most of the journey.
At long last, a numerical Seven appears painted on the wall, foretelling the border. Cloud lets out a triumphant cheer that the others are too tired to mimic. At the next ladder he spots, Cloud ascends, eager to get into fresh air. He strains to lift the heavy manhole cover, and blinding white light pours onto them. It's morning, and the polluted underbelly of Midgar's slums never smelled so good.
Cloud climbs out of the sewers then helps Aerith and Nanaki up.
Nanaki stretches and shakes the excess mud from his fur. Aerith dusts off her dress. Cloud is still finding spiderwebs on his arms. It takes a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the daylight.
They are in a dusty barren area of the slums. The plate above is intact, and the morning is humming along as if nothing catastrophic could possibly happen. The parts of the sky that are visible are blue and clear. There are vendor carts parked along a narrow path, serving breakfast to commuters. A man walking his dog pauses to gawk at the three emerging from the sewers.
"Hey, you," Cloud calls to him. "What Sector is this? Where are we?"
"Seven," the man answers with caution. "Aren't you the, um… that wanted fellow?"
The sheer joy of reaching Sector Seven is halted by the man's accusation. Cloud watches the man's eyes go to a small television blaring atop a nearby vendor's cart. The news program is showing a picture of him in his Shinra attire, and a banner across the bottom proclaims him a Wutai spy, escaped from Shinra custody.
"What!" Cloud points in dismay. "That's a total lie!" He turns to the man with the dog. "The truth is that Shinra is going to drop the plate on Seven. They're going to destroy everything here! You need to tell your friends and family to get out as soon as possible."
The man doesn't look convinced. He tells Cloud he doesn't care much for Shinra and he won't alter any authorities, but that Cloud is the one who should get out of the city. Cloud can't believe this man won't listen. He tries to tell other people, anyone who can hear him, but he's met with blank stares and murmurs. Even Aerith can do no help convincing them that the threat is real.
"Probably because we look like crazy people coming out of the sewers," she remarks.
"Well, I don't care if these people don't listen to me. I know someone who will. Let's go find that bar, Seventh Heaven," Cloud says.
As they walk further into the Sector Seven slums, they get more stares and whispers from the residents. The central area is a mottling of shacks and metal-sided housing. The streets are wider and more populated than the Six slums, and towering in the middle of the main commercial strip is a two-story building wrapped with a wide wooden porch. Neon adorns the outside in bold letters: Seventh Heaven.
They made it. They reached their destination, against all odds. Cloud laughs in a sudden release of stress. He can't believe it.
A drunk is passed-out on the steps leading into the bar. Cloud steps over him and eagerly knocks. The door is locked. The business is closed.
He waits. No answer. Aerith and Nanaki stand beside him, watching as others pause and take note of these strangers outside the bar. Cloud's photo is on every television channel, every newspaper stand.
Finally, the door clicks open a sliver, secured with a metal chain.
"Tifa?!" Cloud calls.
There's nobody there. Then he looks down. A young girl with short black hair has opened the door. She can't be more than four years old. She glares up in suspicion.
"We're closed," she says and begins to close the door.
Cloud is startled momentarily.
"Wait!" He puts a muddy boot in the door. "Wait, please. Tifa told me to come here. My name is Cloud."
The young girl gives a glance at Nanaki and Aerith.
"Tifa told me about you," she says. "But not them."
"They are with me," Cloud says, kneeling to eye level of the miniature gatekeeper. "They are my friends. Is Tifa here? Can you let us in?"
He's not exactly prepared to kick open the door and force his way past this little girl. If she's someone related to Tifa, he wants to start this relationship off on a positive first impression. Although he does feel the clock ticking overhead. The plate suspended above feels like a bomb ready to go off.
"Please…" Cloud begs.
"You look creepy," the little girl replies. "And you stink. But… hold on a moment, please."
She shuts the door. He groans. Aerith taps her foot.
The door opens again, except this time, it's Barret.
"Hmph," the leader grunts. "It really is you."
Barret opens the door and ushers them in quick, locking it behind them. He folds his arms across his chest and scrutinizes Cloud through narrowed eyes.
"So what the hell you doin' here?"
