Climbing to the summit of the crater takes the entire day, and by the time Tifa finds the crisp edge of the precipice, the sky is darkening fast. An experienced climber might have made it in half the time, but the group travels slow, treating each treacherous chasm and slippery rock face with caution.
She wipes sweat from wind-burnt cheeks and peers into the devastatingly large and bottomless crater. The sheer expanse of it makes Tifa feel dizzy. Barret crouches next to her on the overhang.
"Bein' in a place like this... Damn, it sure feels like the planet's tryin' to kill us," he says. "Don't it know we the good guys?"
Tifa commiserates. She finds a solid handhold and lowers herself to a platform of ice on the crater's interior. Cloud is right beside her, then the others follow. The wind dies as they descend.
"Am I crazy or is it getting warmer?" Cid asks.
The sky recedes to a pitch-black oval. No stars or moon tonight, yet there is a faint light coming from the depths of the crater below. Their flashlights cut along bluish-white surroundings.
Climbing down is more complex than climbing up. Every step is on the brink of a plummet. Yuffie slips once, and Barret catches her. A fragment of ice falls from her boots, tumbling into the void, and it doesn't echo for several excruciating seconds.
The further they go, the more Tifa notices a peculiar mist curling from the ice, like smoke. The team slides along dislodged icy chunks and cracked permafrost.
Hours pass. Exhaustion is overtaking them. The glow at the base of the crater hints at green and silver, throwing their world into cold lunar hues. Deeper, the rocks spiral. The ice becomes striated with filaments of organic matter like tree roots. The mist permeates thick, diffusing the light below into a haze.
The trail narrows into a single cavern entry.
Tifa hesitates. Nanaki sniffs with some trepidation.
"Mako," he reports. "Or rather...the Lifestream."
"The Promised Land is ahead," Barret says. "Or what Shinra thinks of it, anyhow. Pure Mako."
Cloud doesn't look well. "Let's just hope nobody falls in," he says, and no one can tell if he's joking.
The caves are a natural system of materia crystallization, pulsing with warmth and gentle lumination. Flashlights are no longer necessary. But that fog persists.
"Stay close…" Tifa says to everyone, though Cloud is the only one who answers. He will, of course.
The caverns open into a vast chamber of splintering rock formations. A long stone bridge extends into fog, lit by the source of the greenish glow below.
A form appears in the mist. A woman. Directly on the bridge.
"Aerith!" Cloud shouts, running forward. He knows she's nearby. That uncanny connection is spiking.
Tifa jolts after him, but soon her footpath is a swirling maze of white and green. She hears Cloud ahead and the others behind.
"Aerith!" Tifa calls. There is no answer.
Then she bumps into Cloud, who is stock still, one arm extended to prevent anyone else from moving forward. A shadow rises. Tall. Much taller than Aerith or any human being. The form is massive and bloated, surrounded by flickerings in the fog like dozens of flies. The air is filled with them, with it.
Tifa cannot catch her breath. Cloud holds her arm, but his grip is too tight. He's cutting the circulation off.
An alien head protrudes through the mist, eyeless, jawless, held by a contorted spine. Asymmetrical appendages curl fingerlike on one side and thick and flat on the other. The skin is stretched and ripped, exposing bulbous organs held by viscous material. An iridescent sheen coats its body. Long tendrils extend from every orifice.
Tifa pulls her glance to Cloud. They should run. Because this thing is pure nightmares.
Yet Cloud doesn't seem afraid. He looks up at this monster with curiosity, whereas Tifa can hardly keep herself from screaming. Terror isolates her body. She should run.
Run, she says to Cloud though she doesn't say anything at all. The monster emerges, and the sight of it—those twisting threads of flesh, that skin-like webbing beneath its neck, the vaguely feminine breast and waist—sends Tifa's mind into tatters.
It has claws, she notices. And though it has no eyes, she's sure it's looking at her.
Barret opens fire. Cloud draws his sword. And Tifa forces her wits about her.
This must be Jenova. The thing in the basement. The terror on the cargo ship. Hadn't Nanaki said that could've been a hallucination?
A tendril whips towards Tifa, slicing across her cheek. Blood weeps from the sting.
No, definitely not a hallucination. The battle accelerates around her. She's keeping up, but she doesn't know how to strike this thing or where. It's unlike any creature she's encountered. Yuffie leaps past, ripping her shuriken into the monster's abdomen. It barely penetrates, and a thick dark liquid leaks out.
Nanaki charges his materia, and a burst of fire envelops the creature's body. Gunshots storm from Vincent's firearm.
She's lost Cloud in the mix, but she knows he's somewhere near.
The creature shifts and shimmers. A bright blue light pulsates from the tip of its arm. The color is blinding. Tifa is caught in its mesmerism for a split second. Then a pop hits her like fireworks. Water, freezing cold, is suddenly inside her lungs. She coughs and sputters, falling back. Disoriented in the fog, she loses the others. Only the creature stands visible. She can hear grunts of pain and shouts of coordination at different angles. She retches water clear of her throat and gasps.
Something touches her leg. The tendrils of Jenova are snaking along the ground. She stomps at one, kicks them away. Mottled tissue coils under her heel.
A red light condenses at Jenova's largest claw. Tifa casts Lightning on it, interrupting the process in a spark of white crackling energy. The jolt ripples through its flesh. Then it gazes at her. No, it gazes into her. A calculating spotlight. It's doing something to her that she can't comprehend, scrambling her concentration. The Lightning was effective, but she gets dizzy looking at the materia in her gloves. She can't draw any energy from it. Then she realizes this thing, somehow, is preventing utilization of materia.
Lights flash from its arms, crimson and cobalt, spraying an array of elements, and when Nanaki casts a second round of Fire on Jenova's body, a strange barrier erects around the creature. The Fire reflects onto its caster, igniting Nanaki's coat in a blaze. Tifa sees the fireball in the mist, hears him yelping in pain.
Cid jumps past Tifa and plunges his lance into Jenova's chest. The myrthil tip cracks its skin like a carapace, but it tosses Cid aside.
Once more, the mist swallows Tifa's companions. Jenova towers over her, swiveling, searching. Tifa clenches her fists, prepares to pummel any slimy strip she can, when her back bumps into something.
She shrieks and spins, expecting a malformed terror slithering up her spine. But it's only Cloud.
"Stay with me," he says, but she can't respond. Her voice is stifled by that inability to use her materia somehow.
He begins to brighten his Ice materia, but she halts him. She gestures to her own Lightning, then to Jenova. Useless, she tries to communicate. He understands. He switches focus to the other materia in his sword. It's one Tifa hasn't seen before. The Restore is gone, given to Aerith outside the temple.
Cloud's Destruct glimmers and hits Jenova, destroying that reflective barrier. The monster's skull tilts. It's now examining Cloud.
Bullets stream from Barret's gun, riddling the thing's cranium, and tendrils whip in response. There are more shouts. Yuffie's shuriken spins past. Cid launches his lance. Cloud stays at Tifa's side, guarding her though she wants to tell him she doesn't need his protection. She needs him to attack that thing. She strikes at it with a flow of punches and kicks.
Then it turns and withdraws. The entire monster vanishes quickly into the fog. Tifa pursues, but there is nothing. It's gone.
The disappearance makes no sense. Something that large cannot inexplicably evaporate.
The mist is clearing. A loud sound thunders through the cavern, like the whir of engines.
"No," Cid says. "No, it can't be."
Then from above, an airship descends. The wind from its approach disperses the lingering fog, and the rocky bridge becomes fully visible, along with Tifa's companions scattered across it in various states of injury. This isn't a sealed cavern, after all! The area above must be clear to the sky, though Tifa can't see it. This airship carries the Shinra logo and descends en route to the center of the crater. The cigarette drops from Cid's mouth.
"That's my goddamn airship!" Cid shouts. "Mine! Oh, I can't stand to see her fly without me. Those snakes!"
There's no time to lose. If Shinra is here, then they've also located Sephiroth, and Aerith is in their crosshairs.
"We prolly led them right to her!" Barret moans. "And what the hell was that thing? Jenova?!"
An answer isn't necessary, because everyone knows that must be exactly what they encountered.
Cloud is already crossing the bridge and lowering onto the next rocky trail. Without a Restore in the party, all scrapes and bruises will need to go untreated. A couple of sips from their stash of panacea helps to clear the blurriness from Tifa's head.
The airship cuts its engines far below, and the mist immediately returns. Tifa follows Cloud, but he's vanishing with every step. The haze consumes visibility until a blanket of white and greenish glow is all that surrounds her.
She shouts his name, but there is no response.
He's heard something else. Aerith's voice. He's racing through a whirlwind maze. Towards her. Mimicry, the word repeats in his head. He feels sick.
"Cloud."
He freezes. "Aerith, where are you?"
The base of the crater is below the ledge where he stands. He can see the Shinra airship parked and personnel disembarking. Luminescence emanates from a single passageway deeper in, and that is where Shinra is heading. The Lifestream must be close by. The air holds that acrid quality he hates.
"Here I am," she says. She's standing behind him, hands clasped.
He gives her a hug. Yes, she's real. "Where's Zack?"
A curious smile traces her mouth. "I understand now," she says. "My purpose. The White Materia is the way to rejuvenate the Planet, to replenish all that Shinra has stolen. It can create life force. But it can't work alone."
"Zack isn't real, Aerith. I learned that Jenova has the power to appear as anything it chooses."
"He's shown me visions. Sephiroth has. I hear him through the Planet, as well. The world must be cleansed first before we can bring its rebirth."
She's speaking nonsense.
"Listen to me," he says. "You can't trust Sephiroth. Or Zack. None of them are real. This thing, this Jenova, is the one pulling the strings."
Aerith's smile compresses into tight sadness. "Oh, I thought you'd understand. Can't you see we are destined to save the Planet? I know it, Cloud. I feel it in my heart. The Planet is in pain."
"Jenova is—"
"I'm in control, if that's what you're afraid of. I know Jenova is the scar on the Planet. I know it deceived my ancestors. Sephiroth has shown me all of this in the Lifestream. He's able to travel and commune with the dead, thanks to Jenova."
Cloud shakes his head. It doesn't seem possible.
Zack steps into view behind Aerith. The mist curls gently around his movement. Cloud's pulse pounds.
"Hey buddy, I'm glad you made it," Zack says. The black cape is gone. "This little reunion wouldn't be the same without you."
"Reunion?" Cloud repeats. The word feels...familiar.
"Yeah. You, me, Sephiroth. All of us together again. Just like Nibelheim."
Fresh memories spring like flowers after rain. Yes, he remembers Zack now. Always calm and smooth. He had a way of making Cloud feel better. They'd...been friends. Zack was…
"Sephiroth can't return to the Lifestream because of Jenova," Zack says. "Shinra implanted those cells in him, but they also inadvertently gave him the greatest gift. He's been able to speak with the Planet through the Lifestream. Don't you see? We are its messengers."
"Yes," Aerith says, taking Zack's hand. "It wants to heal. It wants us to use the Black Materia."
The words writhe inside him, twisting his opposition into compliance. Resistance melts as he connects with the intention she's conveying. Shinra had lied to him, about everything. They'd used Jenova like a scalpel, slicing him into unrecognizable bits, and now that same monster could be the company's downfall. Cleanse the Planet, destroy their regime. It's only because of Jenova that any of this knowledge is possible.
"H-how do we use it?" Cloud says, but his voice feels so far away. Shinra drowned him in darkness and deceit, and they would've done the same to Aerith if Jenova hadn't brought them together.
"Sephiroth can," Zack answers.
"Where is he?"
Zack points towards the passageway below. "Waiting. For you."
"Me?"
"The Black Materia. We couldn't recover it from the temple. Don't you have it?"
"I... don't."
"Then, go get it," Zack says. Simple as that.
Yeah, Cloud agrees, he should. Aerith is right. This is their opportunity to heal everything Shinra's maimed.
Aerith and Zack watch him depart into the mist.
Somewhere close by, Tifa finds her way to the base of the crater. Cid and Yuffie are at her heels, with Vincent and Nanaki not far behind. They come upon the airship guarded by MPs, but the fog grants enough cover to slip by. She's sure Cloud went this way.
The inner passageway winds into a cavern of pure crystallized Mako. Tifa has never seen this much raw Mako in her life. It's an enormous wellspring, and the Lifestream branches beneath the ice in shimmering rivulets. There is no mist here. The scent in the air is sweet and subtle, very different from the chemicals that come from the Reactors.
At the center of the chamber stands Rufus Shinra alongside Professor Hojo and a woman Cid points out as Director Scarlet. A dozen soldiers flank the president.
"So this is the Promised Land," Rufus says, arms spread. "I can just taste the Mako in the air."
Scarlet laughs. "And to think, we almost terminated that miserable rat."
No sign of Cloud. Vincent is fixated on Hojo, but Tifa tells everyone to stay put until Barret and Cloud catch up. The five of them remain out of sight while the Shinra execs revel and gawk.
Meanwhile, Barret treks through the fog. He's lost track of the others, somehow, in this mess. And with that tentacled thing lurking around, no corner can be trusted. He takes it nice and slow. Tifa should be just ahead.
A noise, a crack, makes him halt.
He steadies his gun. Damn impossible to see anything. Wasn't it a lot colder before, too?
"Barret."
He jolts and swings the gun around fast.
It's Cloud.
"Damn, I thought I told you to quit sneakin' around me like that!"
Cloud isn't alarmed by Barret's nerves. He doesn't seem troubled at all, in fact.
"I...think I understand what to do with that Black Materia now," Cloud says. "You can give it back to me."
Something's not right. "You sure?" Barret asks. "I don't mind holdin' onto it for you."
"I'm sure. I'm glad you carried it this far. I was worried I'd...lose it."
"It's safe with me."
Cloud extends his hand. "Can I have it?"
Barret glances at the outstretched palm. There's a peculiar hunger in the blonde, a determination bordering violence.
"I told you I'd need the materia back at some point," Cloud says. "I need it back now."
A veil of mist cuts them off from the rest of the world. Barret gets a strange sensation like razor blades skimming along his arms, a hair away from lethality. He notices Cloud's muscles are tense.
"Whatchu need it back for now? I think we need to find Aerith and get the hell outta here."
The edge of Cloud's mouth tightens. "I…already found her. She told me how we can finally get rid of Shinra."
This grabs Barret's attention. "What'd you mean? Where is Aerith?"
"Bugenhagen was right," Cloud says. "The Black Materia can cleanse the planet. We can destroy all their Reactors, all over the world."
The idea is appealing. Barret imagines a future free of Shinra, where Marlene can grow up without that tyrannical reliance on Mako energy.
"So, give me the Black Materia."
The outstretched hand awaits. A finger twitches.
"No," Barret says. "Something ain't right, man. I feel like this is exactly the type of shit you were tryin' to warn me about in that forgotten city. You ain't yourself right now."
Cloud slowly lowers his arm. He's very silent. Barret notices the perspiration on Cloud's forehead, the rapid pulse moving in his neck.
"What's going on, man?" Barret whispers.
The Mako-flecked eyes track to Barret's. He sees Cloud struggling with something unseen. It's killing him, whatever it is. Cloud clenches his jaw.
Barret backs up. "...Cloud?"
It's a bare whisper of a plea. "Help me…" Cloud says. The blue eyes don't release Barret, but the quality of the gaze is shifting. The desperation is repressing. A coldness takes its place. It reminds Barret of the first time he met Cloud in Sector One.
Just as Barret realizes what is happening, Cloud snaps to life. The sword is unsheathed, knocking Barret's aim away, and a boot heaves into Barret's chest. He falls, and Cloud follows with preternatural speed. The sword is at Barret's throat, and one heel presses his gun-arm into a useless position.
"Don't move," Cloud says. Strands of blonde are stuck to his face. There's a sickly sheen covering his skin. "...Please."
Barret does as he's told, though he'd sure as hell love kicking Cloud in the ribs. But he knows how fast Cloud can move, how much damage that sword can do.
"What the fuck," Barret says instead, glaring up at him.
Cloud swallows. A hint of reluctance rises then fades. He reaches down, keeping the sword at Barret's neck, and rummages into the pouch at Barret's side. His eyes never leave Barret's. Then his fist closes around the Black Materia and he snatches it away, withdrawing.
Barret rubs his neck and sits up, gun pointed at Cloud.
The sword is between them like a shield. Barret's seen Cloud evade a thousand bullets, so his gesture is perfunctory at best.
"You did the right thing," Cloud says. Then he vanishes into the fog.
Immediately, Barret follows, but Cloud is gone. The fog lessens, and the bottom of the crater becomes visible. The Shinra airship looms, stationed by MPs. Barret notices the far passageway is faintly illuminated. This must be where Cloud's gone.
Nearby, Rufus Shinra surveys the Mako-infused area, salivating.
This is what his father dreamed of: a land of endless wealth, a treasure trove for Shinra's taking. And he is the one to reap the rewards. All the pins fell into place. Shifting budget funds to Advanced Weaponry paid off big time with those surveillance robots, and that idiot, Reeve, finally became useful. Even that megalomaniac, Hojo, kept an ace up his sleeve which aided Shinra in the end.
A big mistake, terminating Hojo. In the heat of blame for the President's death, the science division was an easy target. Rufus learned his lesson, though. These Jenova cells, this legacy of Hojo's work, proved very resilient.
After Heidegger turned up skewered in Junon, Rufus knew he needed Hojo back. If only to get that pet of his back on its leash. It's a shame they couldn't create more of these super-soldiers. But the Jenova cells are documented as too unstable. Hojo believes he can craft the proper formula for true repression, but Rufus has his doubts. After all, his father would still be alive if Hojo hadn't muddied things up to begin with.
But Rufus can give credit where credit's due. The experiment, it seems, was a partial success. The pet did lead them to this Promised Land.
"Sir," his radio buzzes. "Sir, we've intercepted a group of interlopers. We believe them to be the terrorists from Midgar."
Ah, even more good news. What a perfect day. Rufus calls the MPs to bring the trespassers over. This is all Shinra's land now, and he will make that known.
A squad escorts a motley group of six into the central chamber. Rufus clicks his tongue, examining the lot.
"Found them in the corridor leading to this area, sir," the captain of the squadron reports.
"Well done," Rufus replies.
The woman from Sector Seven and the foul-mouthed man with a gun-arm both look an awful mess since last he saw them. And it seems their posse has attracted three strangers: a young Wutain girl who sticks her tongue out at him, a brooding gentleman with a vague air of Shinra training, and one of their very own pilots. Yes, he'd recognize Cid Highwind anywhere; the man has been vocal enough in his disdain for the way Shinra took possession of his airship. A brilliant engineer but too testy. Cid grits his teeth at Rufus. And what the hell is this, a dog with a flaming tail? Some nonsense cooked up in Hojo's labs, no doubt. This must be one of the escapees.
But there's someone missing.
"Where is he?" Rufus asks the woman from Sector Seven. "Your leader."
"I'm the damn leader," the man with the gun-arm barks. "And you're mistaken if you think Shinra is winning today."
Rufus snickers. He admires the liveliness. Then he turns to Hojo.
"I thought you said he'd be here."
It's no good if they can't capture and contain Hojo's renegade experiment. That thing remains a threat each second it's out in the wild.
Hojo rubs his chin. "There's a reason they congregated here. What's so special about this place…? Where is the girl?"
The professor stalks to the captured team.
"The Cetra," Hojo says. "Where is she?"
The Wutain girl spits on his coat. Charming. The others are silent. And that one—the one with the burning crimson eyes—he seems familiar to Hojo, all wrapped in that cloak. Something about him…
"Sephiroth," a voice calls out, drawing everyone's attention. "I'm here."
Hojo watches his prized asset materialize from the corridor. Rufus nudges the MP captain in the ribs. "How did you miss this one?!" he hisses.
The woman from Sector Seven elicits joy. "Cloud!" she shouts.
Yet the asset doesn't respond. Rufus signals the MPs to stand down.
Hojo greedily rubs his palms together. That name, Sephiroth, is what he's been waiting to hear all these years. Ever since his son died in Nibelheim, he's been seeking a means of finding him again. As imperfect as he was, as human as he was, Sephiroth could not be replaced.
Cloud ignores the contingent of Shinra personnel. "Show yourself!" he says to the air.
And the crystals shift. Amazingly, the layers of materia above swim with something shadowy. A body, inert and intact. Long silver hair is frozen alongside a human torso. Hojo recognizes the encapsulated man at once.
It's his son. And his condition is fascinating.
Sephiroth responded to this Jenova imprint. Hojo begins to cackle, overwhelmed by the sheer genius of his planning.
"It worked!" he says. "The reunion theory worked!"
The word catches Cloud. "Reunion?" the blonde echoes.
Hojo almost feels bad for it, with that confused tone. He made mistakes with that one, for sure. Once he gets the asset back under his knife, he won't make those mistakes again.
"The Jenova theory," Hojo can't help but explain to any imbecile in need of enlightenment. "The cells, when separated, will return to their whole. A significant collection of cells will always seek out others like it."
He began testing this theory years ago, in desperation of finding Sephiroth again, knowing Sephiroth was the second-largest source of Jenova material outside of the mother host herself. He hadn't expected such astounding results, but the wait was well worth it.
Cloud grasps his head and falters. He's clutching a chunk of materia in one hand, but it's greater and darker than anything Hojo's seen before. It shimmers strangely. The boy is trembling. Hojo adjusts his spectacles.
The body of Sephiroth hangs within the ice. Cloud wraps his arms around his abdomen as if in pain. Then, without warning, Cloud floats into the air, pulled by invisible strings. Scarlet gasps. The MPs raise their rifles, and Rufus orders them to wait.
The asset approaches Sephiroth. He holds out the orb in his palm.
"Incredible," Hojo says, staring. "Who knew such a failure could produce these results?"
The captive terrorists are hysterical, shouting Cloud's name to no effect. Several MPs have to restrain that woman with long dark hair. She kicks one, punches another, busting right through the helmet. Cloud hasn't reacted to any of them. He's curled on his side, hovering eerily as though on wings.
"A failure," Rufus repeats. "What do you mean?"
"Five years ago, a dying MP was brought to my lab in Nibelheim."
"Ah, yes. The incident," Rufus nods knowingly. That's what all internal records called Sephiroth's untimely death—the incident.
"He died during the Mako-infusion process," Hojo says. "I implanted Jenova cells into the necrotizing corpse to test a regeneration hypothesis."
Rufus regards the asset with newfound curiosity. "Died? So, this thing is…?"
"Oh, the actual corpse was disposed of years ago. That thing you see isn't the boy from Nibelheim."
Hojo notices he has a rapt audience. The companions are listening, mouths agape, shocked into silence. Tears are streaming down the woman from Sector Seven's face. Rufus prompts him to explain.
"I removed the Jenova cells from the body during decomposition," Hojo says. "And something remarkable happened."
Rufus's stare slowly tracks onto Cloud. "My gods… So it isn't even human."
"No."
"...Does it know?"
Hojo chuckles. "Does it matter? It led us right to Sephiroth. The Jenova cells reunited. And here, of all places!"
Rufus smiles. "Yes, the Promised Land. Sephiroth was seeking it, wasn't he?"
Above them, something is happening. The orb of dark materia is transferring through the crystallized materia like liquid, transfusing into Sephiroth's slumbering body.
"And what is that?" Rufus asks. "Another one of your theories?"
Hojo isn't sure.
With this mission complete, Cloud lowers to the ground. His knees hit first and his body crumples like a marionette. Sephiroth swirls with strange new energy. The ribbons of Lifestream beneath the ice pulse.
"Why here?" Scarlet asks. "I'm not ungrateful, but couldn't it have been somewhere warmer?"
There is a reason, but it escapes Hojo at the moment. He'll need more time to study this new information. Sephiroth's body, here, at the depths of the planet's greatest wound. A gathering of life energy. To...heal him? It's unclear. Hojo sets a series of notations in his mind. Plenty to investigate later. But, for now, observation.
Cloud stands. He faces them.
Tifa is silent. He locks eyes with her. He isn't even human, she hears Hojo saying. He's entirely composed of Jenova cells. Mimicry, that's what Cloud had been concerned about after they watched the tapes in Icicle Inn. Mimicry.
An alien creature has been mimicking the boy she knew from Nibelheim. The MP who held her in the Nibel Reactor when she was bleeding out… that was the last time she ever saw the real Cloud. This here...this is a monster.
It shocks her how readily the fear overtakes. She'd always thought she was a good judge of character, that she looked beneath the surface and cared for the person inside regardless of appearances.
She'd held its hand. Kissed it. She'd let it touch her cheeks, her lips. That vile creature they'd fought, that had created that trail of blood and visceral gore... Cloud is made of the same thing.
He isn't even human. A base revulsion electrifies her spine. A host of speculation runs wild in her head.
He's watching her. There's chaos all around as the body of Sephiroth bleeds dark from contact with the Black Materia. The walls of the cavern shake. The Lifestream surges, hot and quick like blood through a wound as the materia crystals crack around them.
There's something moving beneath the floor. Something very large.
Cloud still hasn't moved. Rufus shouts something, and Hojo tells them not to hurt the asset. Then the MPs are shuffling her away. Barret is bellowing. Yuffie screams and cries. Cid curses. Vincent is a blaze of abnormal stature, horns, and claws, tearing into the MPs. Seeking Hojo, no doubt. Gunfire hammers. But she is powerless in the wave of it all.
She is powerless to him, that lone boy from Nibelheim, sitting atop the well on a starlit night. He's going to enlist, he tells her. He's going to be a First-Class SOLDIER.
The chamber quakes as something stirs from below. Chunks of materia crash and splinter. The MPs drag her by the arms. She wants to call out to Cloud, to beg him to stay with her, but she knows that isn't its name. He lets the destruction continue around him. Then, at last, he peels his gaze from her and looks up. For a moment, he seems angelic, a human form in the tumbling kaleidoscope of crystals and roots shaken loose like tendrils. He's untouchable. Immortal.
And it scares her. Deeply.
Hojo points, giving orders to the nearest MPs, but she cannot hear through the overwhelming earthquake. Things beneath the floor are erupting. She thinks back on the story the innkeeper told of weapons living in the crater. Natural defenses created by the Planet in times of crisis. But what is it responding to? Surely not Cloud's presence or the body of Sephiroth, which has been here for years.
Then she notices the black trails permeating the Lifestream from the origin point of the Black Materia. It spawns horror in her head.
She calls out for Cloud, but he's nowhere to be seen. The area is collapsing. The MPs move her roughly. The glint of Nanaki's tail flickers up ahead. Then the ceiling caves in.
Dust and pressure seize her lungs. An incredibly heavy object smacks into her shoulders. She tumbles and hits her head, and everything goes white-hot, then red. Then black.
