He's dreaming of his mother. It's difficult to see her face, but he can sense her warmth. He's at home in Nibelheim. Low afternoon sun casts everything in pale yellows. It feels good here, in this indistinct time. The world of nonstop pursuit, armored drones, and the anxiety of protecting his friends is the real dream. This here... This is reality.

"Mother."

She's silhouetted against the curtain-lined windows. He's sure she's smiling. He's safe with her.

It's time to wake up, he hears her voice. But isn't he already awake?

A darkness shades the sill. The yellows bleed until the room is soaked in violet. He's being pulled away, against his will. Upwards, downwards. Away from Nibelheim and the loving aura of a woman he can hardly picture.

Wake up, a voice commands.

This time, he doesn't resist. He complies.

Cloud wakes in the middle of the night. His eyes snap open, and he's extremely groggy. As if he'd been drugged. Warily, he looks around. Everyone else is asleep, which is unusual because they'd agreed to take turns keeping watch. His sword is partly unsheathed, up to the section where materia is slotted.

And the slots are empty.

"What?" He rubs his eyes. It's dark due to the cloud cover, but he confirms via touch that the materia slots are vacant. Both his Ice and Restore are gone. The Destruct he'd found in Nibelheim is still in his pocket, though.

He bolts up, which is a bad idea because everything spins. This isn't a poison, though.

"Tifa…?" He rocks her shoulder. She doesn't move. He tries Barret. Nope. Everyone is in a deep slumber. He'd need to hurt one of them to wake them up because these, he realizes, are the effects of induced sleep from a Seal materia.

Everyone else's equipment is also devoid of materia. They've been robbed.

He shakes off the last of the sleep spell, and then he notices one person is missing.

Yuffie. She's gone. It doesn't take much to extrapolate what happened.

Something rustles across the grassland. A figure darts in the moonlight. He must've woken the second she'd left camp. He takes off after her, furious but not astonished. He knew there was something off about her intentions from the start.

He moves in predatory silence. The Shinra training is easy to slip into. She is the enemy, after all, and he will overtake her. Even in this dim light, he can see her heading into a forested area. Two small bags hang from her arms. He takes an angled route to cut her off.

The forest is dark, but she's in no hurry. They are in a grove of flowering trees. Her steps break twigs, and a flashlight pinned to her jacket bounces light across fallen pink petals. An air of confidence and self-satisfaction surrounds her. She thinks she's invincible. Cloud's about to change all of that.

He crosses in front of her, blocking the way, and when her flashlight reaches him, she abruptly halts and screams. The bags jingle on her arms.

"Oh!" She quickly recovers. "C-Cloud. What are you doing awake?"

He's not playing any games. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Um, just going for a stroll. Couldn't sleep…"

"Wrong answer."

He steps closer. She clutches the bags of materia tighter.

"So what, I stole your shit," she says, fearless. "But I have a good reason."

"I don't care. Give it back. Now."

"Or what?" Then her smirk fades. "Wh-what're you doing?"

The alarm in her voice confuses him at first. Then he realizes his hand is on the hilt of the sword, his stance has adjusted for offense. The ingrained conditioning of her as his enemy has surfaced, unwanted. No, she's just a teenager. He consciously releases the sword.

"Where'd you get the Seal materia?" he asks.

Her joking demeanor is gone. She gulps. "It wasn't a materia. It was a Dream Powder. My only one."

Cloud keeps his anger low. "Do you have any idea the risk you put everyone in? Those drones could drop out of the sky at any minute, and we would've been annihilated while we slept."

"Except you…" she mumbles.

"Yeah," he says. "Except me." Truly he doesn't understand what woke him or how he was able to shake off the effects without aid.

"It should've worked," she bemoans. "That sleep spell shoulda put you out, too."

"Well, it didn't. So hand over the materia."

"No."

"...Please." Because he doesn't want to have to take it by force.

She backs away. "You don't understand. I need this materia! For Wutai!"

But the Wutai province was banned from using or holding any military units or weaponry, including materia, after its defeat under Shinra and General Sephiroth.

"That's precisely why we need it!" she implores. "Have you seen what Wutai's become? Have you seen how diminished we are?! The war is over! And yet we are nothing but a tourist attraction, stripped of ourselves and held under Shinra's thumb like a pet dog!"

She snarls the last sentence. Fury scorches every word. She's glaring at him.

He waits, expecting more. The tirade has transformed her.

"Let me guess," she says. "You've never been to Wutai. You've been in a coma or whatever your story is. So you haven't seen the remnants plastered over with Shinra's laws. Trust me when I say we need this materia. We need to remember what we used to have, and fight to get it back."

It's honorable, her quest, but Cloud has another priority.

"Stealing from us won't help Wutai," he says. "We need that materia to fight Shinra and Sephiroth, when we find him."

"Not from what I've heard," Yuffie scoffs. "Seems Aerith is plenty powerful taking out Turks with one swirl of her staff. And you're practically indestructible. No, I don't think any of you really need this." She holds up one bag. The materia click against each other within.

Cloud centers his footing. "Please, Yuffie… Just give me back the materia."

"Tell me how you withstood the sleep spell."

"I don't know."

"Bullshit. There's a lot you conveniently don't know."

He sighs. They are getting off track. "So what are we going to do?" he says, "Fight each other in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the night?"

"...Maybe." But she doesn't sound so certain.

"And why run off like this? We'd help you if we knew how. I'd help you."

A wry laugh answers him. She clips the materia bags to her belt and swings one arm up to grasp the mighty shuriken. A light breeze shakes the boughs, sending petals adrift between them. A nocturnal bird shrieks as it guts its prey.

"You're really going to do this," he states with resignation.

"Yep." The shuriken rotates into a ready position. She lets the flashlight fall. "Let's go, blondey."

She attacks. The shuriken flashes. Cloud reacts, and the metal slices a fraction past his head. It barely returns to her hands when she's throwing it again and flipping between tree trunks. He blocks, sword out. The crux of her weapon hits the edge of his, and two lethal points graze his shoulders. Her weapon drops, momentum lost. But he's lost track of her for a split second, and boots are suddenly in his face. She kicks him hard. He stumbles and draws the sword between them.

"Stop!" he shouts.

She picks up the shuriken and comes at him in melee, twirling with fast precision. She stabs over and over, pressing him back.

"Fight me, you idiot!" she cries.

He keeps her shuriken at bay, but ferocity fuels her every breath. Their blades shift petals in the air. Her teeth clench. Sweat drips on her brow. His sword absorbs any blows he cannot dodge.

Finally, a slice gets through. She stabs him in the ribs. It surprises them both. She pauses, and his body responds. He kicks her full force and cuts the sword across, forcing the shuriken from her hands lest she lose both. Pain scorches up his side. She stumbles. He catches her by the throat and lifts her off the ground. Then he throws her a solid five paces. Her spine hits a tree trunk, sending a flurry of petals cascading down. She coughs.

The sword is at her throat. Cloud peers down at her. He isn't even winded or seems the least bit affected by all that blood leaking down his hip.

She curses in Wutain. Her shuriken is far. The bags of materia dig into her hip. She should've slotted a few offensive spells. Used his own Ice against him.

"Well?" she taunts. "Aren't you going to do it? Isn't that what you Shinra SOLDIERs were bred to do?"

There is a second where he wants to, but the sensation passes quick. It dissolves into hot liquid covering his torso and fibrous pain in his lungs.

He pulls the sword away. The forgotten flashlight rests nearby, illuminating the blade's bitter edge and silhouetting his form. His face is in shadow.

"The Restore," he says, "Give it to me now."

She's never heard this tone before. It scares her a little.

"Give me the materia," he repeats.

Then he extends an arm. She thinks perhaps he means to help her up, but he grabs her shoulder, lifts her, and then plucks the materia bags from her belt. He has not sheathed the sword yet.

She watches as he utilizes the Restore. The glow of healing green casts the trees into a ghastly audience. The fallen petals appear black as ink. When his ribs are sealed, he slots the materia in his weapon. He roots around for the Ice and slots that, too.

Then he turns and walks away, carrying the bags of materia.

She blinks. "You're leaving? Just like that?" She trots in front of him, scooping up the flashlight. "I tried to kill you."

"You failed."

"So, aren't you...upset?"

He holds one hand to his ribs, dabbing at the wet torn shirt. "No." He sheaths the sword and keeps walking towards the camp.

Baffled, she tags along, but she can't think of anything to say. The confrontation has drained her. That raw outrage hadn't been intentional. It had slipped out in his presence like a secret under duress. She's ashamed at this emotional display, especially when it was met with the exact opposite reaction.

They exit the forest, trekking through grasses. Fireflies shape the darkness around them.

When they reach the camp, Cloud puts the sword down and then returns each person's materia into their equipment. With everyone under the sleep spell, nobody notices. Except Yuffie. She watches, feeling distinctly distant.

At last, he looks over at her.

"Skies or ground?"

She doesn't understand at first, and then she realizes he's asking which part of the watch she wants. Watching for drones or watching for predators.

"...Skies," she says.

He settles in, arms over his knees, sitting near Tifa.

The night is long. With nobody else to take over their watch, neither of them finds an opportunity to rest. Yuffie had been expecting to be in Wutai by now with her newest stash of treasure, not laying in the dirt with her head inclined.

Three hours in, he says a single sentence.

"You better hope they all wake up at dawn."

She's sure they will. Aside from physical stress, the simple passage of time will diffuse the effects of a sleep spell.

The night passes. There are no drones and no disturbances. Cloud is eerily motionless the entire time while Yuffie can't stop fidgeting.

At last, their companions rise. Barret complains of a killer headache, and Tifa says she can't remember the last time she's slept this well. Vincent wants to sleep longer. Nanaki stretches and yawns. Cait Sith tinkers with his moogle. Cid says sleeping on the goddamn ground hurt his goddamn back, and Aerith seems paler than usual.

"You okay?" Cloud asks her.

She's fine, she insists, but it looks like she's coming down with a cold. All this traveling in the open and sleeping without the warmth of a fire is catching up to them.

Cloud doesn't mention the escapade with Yuffie. When Tifa asks about the injury on his ribs, he tells her it's nothing.

There is little chatting as the group trudges on. Constant anxiety keeps everyone wary of the sky. That Airbuster unit had been a big surprise, which means there could be other techno-monsters deployed from Junon or Midgar. Or HKs. Or a myriad of other killing machines.

Wutai appears by midday, a quaint village of curved rooftops below a rise of mountain. Smooth white beaches stretch up the nearby coast. The town is smaller than Cloud expected, built atop a series of canals blanketed with lily pads. Flowering trees line spacious earthen streets. There isn't a single glass or metal structure in sight. The buildings look new but with fabricated weathering as if intending to look ancient. It must've been rebuilt in the war, he reasons. He'd heard the region was destroyed. But now there are shops and restaurants and a hotel overflowing with tourists. Everything is clean and tidy, superficially inviting.

Yuffie pauses at the entry gate.

"Before I was born," she says, "Wutai was a lot more crowded and more important... But look at it now. Just a resort town."

"Seems like a nice quiet place to make a living," Barret comments.

"Yeah, if you can call it living."

The last contingent of Shinra MPs stationed since the war withdrew three months ago. When they left, Yuffie had made up her mind to leave, too. She couldn't stand obedience to a foreign power because the stories of Wutai's past came alive in her head. She thought if she could just convince her father to refocus his efforts on restoring their deprived glory, Wutai could become meaningful again, instead of a footnote in Shinra's manicured history.

The materia ban had been the hardest to adjust to, her father had said. As time went on, it seemed he'd forgotten how important materia once was. Whatever fiery resolve she associated with him in her youth was extinguished. Now all he did was sleep. He's a disgrace, allowing Wutai to wallow like this.

"I can get you all rooms at the hotel," Yuffie says, turning towards the breeze. "Lucky for you, my credit's good here."

Cloud crosses his arms. "I think we've all had enough sleep for now, wouldn't you agree, Yuf?"

He looks right at her, and for a second, she fears he will reveal her nighttime betrayal, but he's smirking. There must be something wrong with him, she decides. She stabbed him in the ribs, and he smiles at her. What a weirdo. Definitely a few screws loose. But it does cause a new emotion to squirm, and she thinks this is guilt.

It had been idiotic to attack him. Practically a death sentence, if she really thought about it. Yet wasn't he the symbol of everything she'd been taught to hate? It had come spilling out of her when she'd challenged him, raw and childish.

Part of her wants to dump her companions at the inn, convince them to leave their equipment behind for some sightseeing, and then bring their treasures to her father. Let him see those shiny mystical orbs and remember that Wutai used to be influential and respected.

Barret doesn't catch Cloud's look at Yuffie. Nobody does. "Well, I sure as hell could use a night in a real bed," Barret says.

"A shower is always welcome," Tifa agrees.

Everyone is gracious of Yuffie's hospitality. It makes her feel even worse for thinking of ditching them. This mission to find General Sephiroth is significant to Wutai, as well. He was, after all, the legendary warrior who turned the war in favor of Shinra.

"So what is our next plan?" Nanaki asks, flicking his tail.

"There's gotta be commercial flights outta here," Cid says. "How'd all these tourists come in?"

Wutai is prized as a secluded gem of relaxation and attunement with nature. There are no public airships. The village is reached via footpaths from the docks at the beach.

"Docks! Perfect!" Aerith says.

Shinra controls the docks and all passage overseas. Besides, the landing isn't large enough for them to covertly board something. No cargo liners here.

"Oh," Aerith replies, crestfallen.

There is one alternative Yuffie can think of. The urge to help Cloud on his insane trek to confront an undead general is winning out.

Yuffie turns to Cid. "How old are you?"

"Hey, watch your mouth! I ain't much older than you. It's just years of workin' my ass off—"

"So pretty old, huh."

"...I'm thirty-two."

Yuffie thinks carefully. "You familiar with pre-war machinery?"

"Of course I am. Why?"

She doesn't want to say it aloud in town. The whole group looks at her curiously. Even Vincent, who hasn't shown much interest otherwise, seems intrigued. She beckons them to the edge of the village, through the market square, past shops with colorful ribbons hanging in their windows, beyond the canals and forested perimeter.

A towering pagoda dominates the skyline. This is the governing palace, the only piece of original architecture left and her father's domicile. It used to be her family home until she realized it would always, instead, be a tourist attraction. She hasn't slept here in a while.

At the gates, the guards recognize her and bow.

"Miss Kisaragi. We were unaware you were in town," one says.

Cid halts, hands up. "Wait, wait, wait. You're a Kisaragi? As in…Godo Kisaragi?"

"So what?" she says. "Who cares?"

"You're the goddamn princess of Wutai!?" Cid exclaims. "That explains why you're so well trained!"

Yuffie blushes. Nobody has ever complimented her technique before. Cloud and the others are catching on. Barret remembers hearing about Godo, the subjugated leader of Wutai. Tifa can't believe they're just learning this now. Yuffie waves all their gawking away.

"And here I thought you was just some homeless ragamuffin!" Barret laughs. "Sure shows me."

She ignores them and marches into the palace.

It's silent within, and dark. The exterior is vibrant and well-maintained, but inside is a maze of untouched rooms. Dusty paintings and artifacts are on display, illustrating Wutai's proud history. The lights are dim. The shutters closed. It's cold. Her eyes adjust to the lamplight. There are no guards in the interior. Probably because it's way too depressing in here.

The rest of the gang follows close, as if stepping outside of Yuffie's wake could disturb this mausoleum and awaken a wight.

The receiving chamber is empty. The lonely throne on the dais has an empty cup next to it.

Yuffie continues to the adjacent closed doors behind the dais. She knocks.

"Father," she calls through the door. "I'm home. Are you...ugh, awake?"

There's shuffling. The floorboards creak. The door opens a sliver, and a man with jet black hair and a thin long beard squints out at her.

"And what do you want?"

Yuffie puts a hand to her temple. "Father, just…come out here. We have guests, and I need something."

Godo sighs and emerges, tying his hair back to reveal gray at the sides. He wears a regal purple and white kimono, though his posture is depleted around a muscular frame. He rubs his eyes, taking a look at the newcomers.

Then he spots Cloud.

"What is that thing doing in my home?" Godo spits, suddenly ablaze.

"Dad, stop," Yuffie says, stepping between them. "He isn't with Shinra anymore."

"There's no leaving Shinra. Not for someone like him."

"Okay, relax. Just listen. We're…on a mission. To kill General Sephiroth."

Godo's attention snaps to his daughter. "The General is alive?"

Cloud opens his mouth to speak, but Yuffie holds up a finger for silence.

"It's complicated," she says. "Maybe."

"Is this another one of your tricks?" Godo says.

"I wanna know about the bunker. We've got a pilot." She points at Cid. "We need a way off the continent. In secret."

The older man chuckles and pushes past her to examine the others. "What trouble have you gotten yourself in this time?" He pauses at Aerith. "Has my daughter been causing you grief? Are you returning her to me because she's such a fool?"

The chiding sets Yuffie off.

"I'm not a fool!" she hisses. "You're the fool who just sits around all day in this stupid run-down palace doing nothing, caring for nothing."

Godo turns to Barret. "Has my daughter been reckless and idiotic?"

Barret suppresses the urge to potentially agree. "Ain't no way to talk about your daughter, man."

Godo continues his mild interrogations, though he avoids Cloud.

Yuffie fumes. "At least I'm outside doing something. Not just wallowing and wasting my life!"

Godo spins, points a finger at her. "Oh? And what do you consider 'doing something'? Disappearing for months, galavanting around the world, neglecting your familial duties?"

"What duties? Guarding this dusty ole nest? Snapping photos with tourists?!"

"This is how we live now."

"This isn't Wutai!"

"It is. You know this, daughter."

She crosses her arms. "It doesn't have to be."

Godo mirrors her attitude. "You want to carry on like this in front of your guests?"

"...Shinra is gone, dad," Yuffie says in soft anger. "It's been years since their impositions. We need to rebuild what was lost."

"And you think traversing the globe is going to solve it?"

"I didn't leave Wutai for fun. I left because I…" She shoots a quick glance at Cloud. She hates feeling this exposed. "I left because I wanted to recover materia for us. Remember how you used to say materia was our strength?"

Godo is quiet. Yuffie runs with it. She can't believe she's going to try and help Cloud, after all.

"Well, I think we have a bigger opportunity than materia. The General is what we're after. And this guy you so rudely called a 'thing'—" she points at Cloud, objectifying him a bit more, but he doesn't interrupt, "—is going to kill the General once and for all."

Her father's eyes shimmer, devouring the thought. Then it vanishes.

"Vengeance is not the path to honor," he says.

"You spent most of my childhood training me to fight. Why? So I can sit in a dark room, helpless to Shinra's beck and call?"

"I was arrogant."

"You wanted something different back then."

"Things change. We must change, too."

Yuffie can't stand arguing anymore. He won't be convinced. He never could. It was a mistake to return here.

She grabs Cloud's arm. "Come on, Cloud," she says loudly. "Looks like we won't be getting any help from this pointless old man."

Godo glares as she drags Cloud off without another word. Then he retreats to the interior room and slams the door. The others stand in awkward silence before trailing after Yuffie.

"Ugh, he's infuriating!" she says, grasping Cloud's arm so tight her fingernails leave marks. "What a stupid idea to come here."

"What's in the bunker?" Barret asks.

"And where can I get a pack of smokes?" Cid says.

"At the shop near the hotel, and nothing's in the bunker because my old man is being uncooperative."

She hauls Cloud through the palace towards the entry.

"But what is in the bunker if we had access?" Tifa asks. "It must be something you thought could help us."

Yuffie tells of a memory from her youth. When she was little, her father would go to the Da-Chao statue in the mountains overlooking Wutai and work on a hidden relic. He used to say they kept a secret from the war. Wutai had to relinquish all munitions and artillery as part of the peace agreement, but Godo had kept a prototype troop carrier off the records. When it seemed the war would be lost, he moved it to a hidden bunker beneath the statue, far away from the battlefields.

Truthfully, he just wanted to keep something from Shinra. Anything. This particular transport helicopter wasn't unique, but it was all he could save. The materia and weaponry went to Shinra. All else was accounted for.

Yuffie recalls Godo keeping the carrier in decent shape, though, of course, nobody could fly it in the early days with MPs stationed in town. Over time, her father lost interest and heart.

"Shinra consumed him, as it did Wutai," Yuffie says.

She held onto that memory of him, though, as an invigorated man with his unsanctioned treasure. The last resistance to the new regime.

Now Shinra's gone, physically at least. Yuffie hadn't thought of that old bunker in years. Her father stopped going when she was in her early teens.

"Wait, how old are you?" Cid asks, still miffed from her asking him the same earlier.

Yuffie puffs her chest. "I'm sixteen!"

Cloud pries her fingers off him.

"And your father's been training you?" Cloud asks.

Not him, exactly. She's had palace trainers, four of them, and yes, since she was small her father had been keen on her learning to defend herself, sneak through shadows, and expertly handle their traditional weapons.

"This shuriken ain't easy to hold when you're seven!" she says.

But her father lost interest in that, too. Along with everything else.

"All he does is sleep," she says. "So I took it upon myself to save Wutai."

They reach the grand entrance of the pagoda, with its high ceilings and chilling stillness. It's a towering tomb, dispassionate to Yuffie's tale.

Then a shadow blurs in front of them. Yuffie pauses with one arm out.

Godo stands tall and stern in their path. How he got across the palace without making a sound is unknown to all except his daughter, who is not surprised by this sudden appearance.

"So you truly wish to restore the glory of Wutai," Godo says.

"Yes." Her tone is flat. She's unaccustomed to letting her humorous mask down in front of the others. Only Cloud has seen her at her worst, or best depending on perspective.

Godo contemplates. "You will pursue this regardless of my assistance."

"Yes. So if you're gonna help me then do it now. Father."

"Best me in combat. Then you shall have the key to the bunker."

Yuffie laughs, but he's serious.

"No," she says. "That's absurd. Either help me or don't. I'm not interested in your games."

A swirl of smoke materializes around Godo, enveloping the exit. The strange mist seeps along the edges of the room. Nanaki's fur raises.

"This is not materia generated," Nanaki states. "What is this?"

"The Fifth God," Yuffie says, eyes locked on her father. "Stop this. I'm not going to fight you."

But Godo doesn't listen. He fades into the mist momentarily, and when he emerges, he's holding a scimitar in one hand and a sharp-edged mace in the other.

"Whoa, what the hell?" Cloud says. He's got one hand on the hilt. "I know this is some family thing, but…"

"Stay out of it, Cloud!" Yuffie says. "All of you, stay out of this. Let me handle this old man."

Her eyes narrow. Godo is no longer that sullen defeated man, but a proud menacing warrior, bolstered by the unseen spirits filling the arena. He charges. The scimitar slices, and Yuffie rolls out of the way.

Eyes wide, she hollers, "Are you trying to kill me?!"

Godo chuckles. "Yes. You must be ready. Hold nothing back."

He attacks, mace and scimitar swinging. She flips away, deflects with her shuriken. Everyone gives a wide berth as the pair dance around the room, lethal blades singing and clashing. Her shuriken spins with precision, but Godo is fast. He seems to disappear and reappear as if made of smoke. Yuffie can hardly keep up.

Barret steadies his gun, unsure what to do. Tifa is rubbing her palms together. Cait Sith stares, fascinated, while Vincent merely crosses his arms. Cid is in solid disbelief at this whole exchange. And Aerith seems torn between aiding Yuffie or staying put. Nanaki emanates low growls but remains at Cloud's side. No one will interfere. Yet.

Godo is fierce, relentless. He isn't tiring as Yuffie's bandana accumulates sweat. Her reflexes are slowing. Her father is an expert with both weapons. She evades. She attacks. She retreats.

This isn't going well. Cloud can see Yuffie breathing hard. Her arm is trembling when she catches the shuriken. Surely Godo will concede.

No, the warrior of Wutai does not. He revitalizes with each sequence of strikes. The mace soars. Yuffie missteps. And the mace bludgeons into her unprotected shoulder. The spikes slice her skin. Blood sprays, and she is thrown. She doesn't get up, but she glares at her father through strands of sweat-soaked dark hair. She says something to him in Wutain. He laughs, advances. Her shuriken has fallen. Godo traps her weapon with one foot. He raises the scimitar.

Cloud is already moving to intercept.

Then Yuffie's eyes glint with mischief. Her lips curl. She spins her legs, takes down Godo with a twisting yank, springs to her feet, and suddenly the point of her shuriken is at his throat. He's on the ground. She's standing above. A little out of breath. Cloud's stopped mid-step, realizing Yuffie had been faking her fatigue. She'd been luring her father into a false sense of victory, feeding his ego to let his guard down.

Masterfully executed, this deceit. The whole group is in shock.

Godo drops both weapons with a clatter.

"Well done, daughter."

"You're insane!" Yuffie shouts, then she pulls away, sheathing her weapon onto her back. "You know that? You could've killed me!"

"Yes, but you succeeded."

He stands and dusts off his kimono. Yuffie nurses her shoulder. A red welt and black bruising surface around the bleeding cuts. She mutters in Wutain. The bizarre mist has cleared, and Godo's persona once more fades into the same man they'd met beyond the throne.

"The bunker." He produces a key. "Go up to the Da-Chao statue. You will find it there in the rock."

He places the key into her palm.

"I am proud of you, Yuffie."

She doesn't look at him. She doesn't speak. Godo slips into the silence of the pagoda, vanishing through one of its many doors. He's gone like a ghost.

Nobody moves or says anything.

Then, Cid claps his hands. "Holy shit. Your old man is nuts!"

Agreement explodes all around. Yuffie shrugs off their comments and leaves the pagoda.

Outside, blue skies and warm sunlight dispel the dismal atmosphere of the palace. Yuffie stalks off, pausing only to demand use of the Restore materia, to which Cloud obliges. After she's healed, she hands it back without a word, then heads towards the mountain path at the edge of the village.

They climb together. An oceanic breeze accompanies their ascent through the pines. Carved into the rockface midway to the summit is an enormous serene figure with a smooth smiling face and graceful outstretched hands. The figure's eyes are closed in peaceful meditation, and it is guarded by five statues of demonic-like beings.

"The Five Gods?" Tifa wonders.

Yuffie nods. "The old gods, protectors of Wutai. My father is the ruler of Wutai due to his ancestry. A direct descendent of the Fifth God, or so they say, who is the shinobi you see there."

The old gods, however, did not protect Wutai in the war, Yuffie says, and so she lost faith in them. Her father may call upon their strength temporarily, but it is not something to rely upon. Her trainers at the pagoda can manifest the other four. Together, their might was not enough to drive Shinra and their soldiers away. So what good are they? Yuffie bows respectfully at the base of Da-Chao anyways.

There is a small keyhole hidden between the stones of Da-Chao. She inserts the key, and a metal trapdoor pops up through layers of dirt.

A staircase within leads into a large cavern. Lights buzz when Yuffie flips a switch, illuminating a tarnished and outdated helicopter. There are tarps piled on the ground, forgotten equipment nearby, and a thick film of dust. The ceiling is retractable. The place smells of earth and mechanical oil. Nothing Wutai had was Mako-powered.

"Hot damn!" Cid shouts, eyes lighting up. "This is what I'm talking about!"

He runs to the old machine like an excited child, peering into the cockpit, rubbing grime off its windows, hopping around it.

The helicopter is larger than a standard model. The belly is built for cargo. It could fit everyone, with some modifications. Cid is already talking about which panels to relocate and how to balance the weight.

"So can you fly it?" Yuffie asks though she doesn't have to. The answer is obvious, but what she means is, "Will it fly?"

It's been up here for years, neglected. But yes, Cid can fix it up. With the right tools and a team, he can have it ready within thirty-six hours.

"Maybe thirty if someone gets me some goddamn tea and cigarettes."

Yuffie can do that. And she can request assistance from the mechanic in town. Barret, Tifa, and Vincent offer a hand. Barret and Tifa have experience with basic machinery through Avalanche, and Vincent's training as a Turk is relevant due to the era of these designs. Cid asks Yuffie to stick around.

"In case your crazy-ass father changes his mind and shows up, you better be here to support me."

Cloud, Aerith, Cait Sith, and Nanaki head into town after Cid shoos them off. No room for those who can't help. Yuffie keeps her word to secure them each a room at the hotel.

The four explore the town a little, but there isn't much to do. Restlessly, day wanes into night. Cid and the others return, and after a hot meal is shared over Cid's regalement of the fascinating style of exhaust manifolds used pre-war and why certain gaskets are no longer optimal, everyone retires to their separate quarters.

The hotel is spacious, and each room shares a communal balcony wrapping around the top floor, looking towards the sea.

Cloud can't sleep. He's been pacing the room for hours. Every time he shuts his eyes, something touches his skin, a curl of fingers.

At last, he gives up and heads to the balcony for some fresh air. Dark meadows roll into pale sands and endless waters beyond. Wutai is very quiet and very isolated. Celestial bodies dot the night sky.

Aerith sits alone out here, much to his surprise. She toys with her long braid, lost in thought.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks.

His voice startles her.

"Actually, no," she says. "Not really."

He leans his elbows on the railing, watching the sea. It's indistinguishable in the darkness.

"Don't you think everything that's happening is a little too convenient?" she says. "As if no matter what Shinra throws our way, we somehow find a workaround?"

Cloud hadn't considered this. "Maybe Cait Sith is right. It's just luck."

Aerith twists her hair around a finger. "Or maybe there's something else going on. Something else pulling us forward…"

"What do you mean?"

She's silent for several moments. Then, "I don't know. I can't make sense of it." Her bright eyes shift to his. "I've been thinking a lot about this ancient temple."

The warm exterior lighting on the hotel frames half her face. The other is in shadow.

"Bugenhagen said this Cetra temple was discovered years ago," she says, "so surely General Sephiroth knew about it. Why wouldn't he have already gone there and uncovered the Black Materia himself? Why go to the Gold Saucer at all?"

Cloud has no answers.

Aerith continues, "I keep thinking there's something we missed at the Saucer. With all that commotion, there was no way for us to really investigate the area where you saw the man in the black cape."

It's true, but Cloud says he'd gone back and checked the entire museum. There was nothing there but a display of materia crystallization. Certainly nothing that pointed to an ancient temple.

"But that's just it," Aerith says, "Sephiroth was there looking for something. He didn't find it. You interrupted him. Then Dyne… And I just can't…" She bites the edge of her nail, once more looking out at the sea. "I just can't sleep. It keeps coming to me. This temple. A dark pyramid in a jungle setting. I can't stop seeing it and thinking we are missing something."

Her eyes dart to his. The emerald shines.

"I think we have to go back to the Saucer."

He trusts her intuition. Whatever energies are guiding her now must be that power she can tap into from the planet.

"Okay," he says. "We'll go first thing once Cid finishes up, and I can show you where I saw Sephiroth."

She seems relieved yet not totally settled.

"Thanks. I knew you'd understand," she says. "Sometimes I think you and I share a bond, you know?"

A chill skitters down his forearms. He brushes it away. Just the wind.

"Perhaps," he says. Then reasons, "We both escaped Hojo's labs."

"No, I escaped. You mutinied!"

That's right, she doesn't know that he was once a subject of experimentation, too. He's about to bring it up, to reveal all he'd wanted to tell her in Cosmo Canyon when her tone becomes somber.

"You remind me of him a little," she says. "Zack."

The name triggers a flash of the Nibel Reactor, but not much else. It's a brief surge of emotion in muted shades he cannot identify.

Then she shakes her head. "Or maybe that's just what I want to see. And feel." She sighs. "I wish I could see him one last time. Just to say goodbye."

The request is so sad and forlorn that it renders him silent. Isn't that what anyone wants of those they lost? He tries to picture his mother in Nibelheim, but her features are blurry. She's backlit by a fire raging outside those curtain-framed windows.

He wants to comfort Aerith. He puts his hand on hers. There is a bond here. Can't he trust it?

"Oh listen to me, all gloomy," she says, pulling away. "I'm sorry. I should go get some rest."

Judging by her hollowed eyes and the pallor of her skin, she hasn't been getting any good rest lately. He means to ask her about the Nibel Reactor, to tell her not to push herself too hard because whatever she's manifesting is clearly taking its toll on her health. But her exhaustion is evident, and he doesn't want to impede her sleep.

Aerith leaves him alone on the balcony. He stays outside, listening to the ocean, waiting for that crawling sensation atop his skin to stop. Part of him trusts Aerith implicitly, yet something prevents him from speaking plainly with her. An unknown variable.

That night, he doesn't succeed in sleeping. The room is comfortable. The surroundings are quiet. He doesn't hear Barret snoring, for once, but the solitude is wasted. The phantom doesn't leave him alone until dawn. And even when it goes, he can still feel its shadow. He watches the sun crest over the ocean, then he showers and joins the others for breakfast.