The needle pushing through my forehead isn't as painful as I thought it would be. The woman leaned over me chews on her lip and shimmies closer, standing on her toes. She smells like bread and coffee, probably her lunch. Or her dinner. What time is it anyway? I don't remember. Since I can't go to Marx for my problems anymore, Reno sent me to this lady. She huffed and puffed about wanting to leave for the day, but after seeing that it was a simple stitch job, she set her bag aside and got to work.

Snipping the thread with a small pair of scissors, she steps back and admires her handiwork for a moment. "Alright, you should be set to go. Just don't rip those open and they'll heal just fine."

"When should I come back?"

"They'll go away," she shrugs, heaving her purse onto her shoulder. "Now, if you don't mind, I have to go get my kids from school before they're dropped off without a housekey and bother the neighbors." With that, she rushes out the door.

"Oddly specific," I mutter, sliding off the examination table and straightening my uniform that's stiff from salt. The halls are slowly beginning to empty for the night, making it easy to wind my way into the stairwell and climb the stairs with tired legs. I'm stopped on the way up, greeted by a broad smile and arms that are, for once, freely hanging without a load.

"There's no way you're still real," Amelia greets, stopping before me. Her eyes are alight with genuine joy. I find it confusing. "It feels like I haven't seen you in a hundred years."

"Feels that way, doesn't it?" I crack a smile and step aside to allow a train of laborers past. "Rufus been keeping you busy?"

"Is that a joke? I haven't sat down in days." She gives me a onceover, her smile never faltering. "But you probably know all about that."

For a moment, I panic, thinking that she somehow knows about my situation with the young president. But then I remember—I'm a Turk. We're supposed to be busy.

Laughing uneasily as my stomach untwists from its knots, I nod. "Yeah, it's been a little crazy."

"Any updates? My life is boring now that I'm not pacing the halls in hospitals every day." She leans against the railing, crossing her arms and pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands.

I shake my head, following suit. There's a lot that I can't tell you. "Nothing very interesting on my end, either. Found Don Corneo on accident and ended that whole ordeal."

"That sleezeball?" She rolls her eyes. "Good." After a moment, she lowers her voice, leaning a bit closer. "I heard you assisted Avalanche with their escape from execution."

"Oh, I—" My face goes red and I fumble over my words.

She shakes her head. "No, I stand by it. They're the only ones that can get us out of this, I think. Crazy to say it out loud."

"Yeah…" I press my lips together, turning my eyes to the tall glass windows to my right. The sun sets slowly over the city, but the darkness won't ever come. Not with that looming doom of Meteor hanging over our heads and threatening to blast us all into oblivion in a matter of days. What does that mean about us? Do I live like I've only got seventy-two hours left?

"Also, on a more serious note…" Amelia straightens and clears her throat, her smile fading with her retreat. "Is Tyler Marx still your primary—"

"No. I cut that off. Still would've even if Rufus hadn't ordered it."

"Rufus ordered it?" Her eyes go wide and her jaw slackens.

"Yeah. There are a lot of things I'm trying to understand about myself and he's only making things harder." I shrug, forcing myself to look her in the eye. "So I'm done."

I half expect her to get awkward about my vague response, perhaps to even demand for more answers. However, what I get is an expression of complete understanding. She reaches out to squeeze my arm, offering a smile.

"I'm glad. That'll be very good for you."

"I'm hoping so," I nod, curious as to why she's so sympathetic. Before I can question her further, she takes a deep breath and tucks her short hair behind her ear.

"Unfortunately, I'm going to be late picking up the President's dinner if I stay here any longer. We have to talk again before we burn alive, alright?"

"Definitely."

I wave her off and continue my walk up the stairs, arms hugged to my body and mind racing. Worked in mental hospitals… What's so weird about that to me? No one's out when I reach the hallway, so I head straight home. I'm tempted to throw myself in bed and hibernate, but I force myself to remove my salt-encrusted uniform and brew a cup of coffee.

Rufus's words from last night still ring clear in my head, a nonstop whisper in the back of my mind now that I'm finally alone in the quiet. Think about it. Research. Think. But do I really want to?

For a moment, I forget where I've been for the past few weeks. I forget why everything is happening the way it is, why I'm so alone, and why I can't ask the right questions. I reach for my phone and scroll through my contacts, reaching to touch Tseng's name.

And then it all comes back. He's been dead and gone for weeks. I've been isolated for so long and it all feels like a blur. I press my lips together, swallow the lump in my throat, and let my head roll back onto the couch cushions. He's gone. There's no helping me now… Shaking my head, I stand, pacing to burn off some of my nervous energy. No, Rufus said I just have to think. I have everything I need…

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember anything connected to what I have. I know about Sonyah, I remember Tyler's crimes, and I can still clearly feel the slick blood on my hands from all those I've killed. But what's the missing piece? My heart skips a beat when the slightest scent of smoke fills my nose. My eyes blink open, but there's nothing burning. That's right…

Fire.

The air is hot, thick with billowing clouds of black smoke that roll into the air and rush back toward the ground, blocked by the same ceiling that's caged me for two years. My hands are sticky with drying blood and my eyes burn with hatred hotter than the flames that lap at my legs. The glass clutched in my hand killed more than its fair share of guards, dripping with a crimson mixture of our lives melding together on one sharp edge.

I make my way through the hospital armed with only the glass and my determination, ignoring the other patients that panic and run for their lives. I couldn't care less where they go. I don't want anything but my old life back. A nearby seat in the hall begins to burn, puffing thick smoke into the air. I wave it away and slam my foot into a familiar door, nearly knocking it off its hinges. Where is she? A drop of blood rolls off my fingertip and fizzles in the flames to my right, burning black.

The rug is charred and it's nearly too dark to see. A head of dark hair peeks up over the edge of the desk at the back end of the room and a menacing smile twists my lips. As I draw nearer, she begins to whimper, clutching Belle, my namesake, closer to her chest and burying her face in fur. I throw the chair to her desk away, reveling in her fearful cries. Tyler's words ring through my head.

"She thinks she's helping? Kat, she forces you to look back at those painful memories so she can manipulate them until there's nothing of you left."

For a moment, I close my eyes, remembering the warmth of his hand on my cheek, the heat of his lips on mine. But then I'm overcome with rage that surges forward, threatening to swallow me whole. He never loved me. He used me. I grab the woman's wrist and jerk her forward onto her hands and knees. Belle runs free, sprinting out of the room with no regard for her owner's survival. I kick the woman over, kneeling over her body with the glass raised, ready to kill. She shields her face with her hands, choking on smoke and sobbing.

"Kat, please," she whimpers. "It's Amy. Remember?" Don't say that name. I shake my head quickly, my hand hanging in the air, waiting. "Please, Kat. Just let me go and you won't ever have to see me again. I swear."

Liar!

She'll turn them against you.

She couldn't "fix" you.

You'll suffer if you aren't preemptive.

"Shut up! Shut up!" I scream, reaching up to clutch my ears. The woman screams when the glass plops onto her chest. Teeth grit, I lift it back up with desperate, trembling fingers and jam it into her side. "You don't control me anymore!"

She cries out, clutching her wound as I leave, blinking her name out of my head for good. Now for Marx. Rushing around burning furniture and leaping over flames that block my path, I search high and low for the coward that ruined my life. I swat at my clothes when flames catch, holding little care for my burns or bruises. I don't care if I die as long as he does, too.

The predictable idiot is in his office, raising his hands into the air when I throw the door open. My skin burns from the anger, not from the heat, and my eyes swell with bitter tears. Blood pours onto the ground when I tighten my grip on the glass shard, fizzling and popping. Stammering, Tyler stumbles away from me, panicked.

"Kat, please, baby. Don't—"

"Don't call me that," I snap, eyeing him with disgust. "Or I'll skin you alive."

"O-okay. But…" He lowers one hand to point at the glass. "But please put that down. I want to talk."

"Then talk."

"But—"

"You have thirty seconds before I lose my patience." I raise an eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at my lips. "You remember what that's like, don't you?" Panicked, his eyes flicker toward the door. "There's no way out, Tyler. Twenty-five."

"Okay, um…" Taking a deep breath, he buries his hands in his hair. "Tseng!"

"What about him?"

"He's here." Twenty. "You remember his name. You won't kill him, will you?"

"No."

"A-and you'll remember mine?"

"Yes." My lips twist into a snarl. "To remember what a disgusting, sick motherfucker you are."

"But how can you kill someone if you're going to—"

"You don't deserve life." Ten. "You killed me. You gave me life just to dig your dirty claws into my chest and rip my heart out. You made me feel just to make me numb." Five. "I was nothing but an experiment to you." I step closer, shaking my head. "It's your turn to feel that pain. You won't ever have the chance to hurt someone else."

I lunge toward him, aiming for his throat. Startled and desperate, Tyler reaches for a tray of medical tools and raises it. The glass bounces off, but the force behind the blow knocks the tray from his sweaty hands. As the shard clatters onto the floor, I grab one of the dispersed scalpels and slam my elbow into his jaw when he tries to make a run for it. Stumbling, he just barely ducks out of the way of a swipe from my newfound weapon.

"You told me she was manipulating me!" I shout, getting a good cut into his arm when he raises it to shield his face. "But it was always you!" I swing my legs around and knock his knees out from under him. His back slams against the floor and he gasps for air. I drop onto his stomach, readying the scalpel. "You did all that…" I squeeze my eyes shut as the tears run free, staining my cheeks. "But… I can't stop loving you."

I expected a spray of blood to match the force with which I bring the scalpel down. Instead, I feel the heat of a hand on mine, prying my weapon away. Tyler lays on his back, eyes squeezed shut as he awaits death. I should fight back, wrestle free, but I'm spent. Choking on a sob, I let my head hang back, defeated. Tseng peers down at me, shaking his head.

"I want Mom back," I choke out, letting the tears fall freely. He shakes his head, tossing the scalpel aside and pulling me to my feet. Sobbing and trembling, I turn and twist my fingers into the front of his uniform, finding comfort in a familiar presence. "I'm sorry. I just want to go home."

Tseng shakes his head and somehow finds it within himself to hold me.

I gasp for air, feeling like I've been held underwater for decades. What the $%^&? My throat begins to close as my breathing picks up. Desperate, I press my hands to the kitchen counter, staring hard at the cheap stick-on pattern that shines back up at me. Those hands… That voice. Amelia? Suddenly, I feel ready to collapse, my legs shaking beneath me and my stomach churning. Gods…

"Annabelle…" The name passes my lips as a whisper, hardly making a sound even in the silence. A shudder claws its way down my spine and I close my eyes, focusing on catching my breath. That's what Rufus meant.

I want nothing more than to pull up Tseng's number again, even if there's no point. Before, I would have demanded that he tell me the truth, to confirm if what I'm seeing is real. Now? I want nothing more than to hear his voice and see that irritating disappointed look in his eyes. Nothing would mean more than his face right now.

But he's not here and I can't ask for that. Shivering, I hug my arms to my body, breathless and dizzy. What the hell is wrong with me? Of all people, I had to be her. I shouldn't be surprised, but it's a hard pill to swallow after all this time hoping I was who I am. I'm Kat, not…

You're powerful this way.

Nothing can stand in your path.

Finally enact your revenge.

Come home.

"Who are you?" I demand, squeezing my eyes shut. The sound of her voice makes my ears ring and my heart pound harder. There's no answer, but I can feel her there, lingering. "Please. You said you're here to protect me." Shaking my head, I cover my face with my hands and struggle to speak around the lump in my throat. "So please—"

They'll turn you against me.

Torture you.

"I'm begging—"

This is how you stay strong.

How you'll reach your peak power.

How you'll restore our home.

Together.

"Enough with the goddamn games!" I shout, slamming my hands down onto the counter. "Give me anything!"

For a long time, I hold my breath, taking the silence as a "no". Then, her voice returns with force, sending chills down my spine and goosebumps rippling up my arms.

Mother.

"Mother…?" I frown, confused. What is this, some sick possession? Taavi wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole. But then I realize. The voices, my father's experiments, Hojo's project… Sephiroth. "Mother?"

This time there really is nothing but silence.