Chapter 6 – Face it to believe it.
Sephiroth's POV
SOLDIER 1st class Zack Fair had finally left for his mission with the Turks in Junon. The President was already there and things were peculiarly calm. No waves, no… sudden attacks. AVALANCHE was very silent, maybe too much silent for my liking.
Once the whole team left – during nighttime – I was there to make sure everything would come out without failures. I had taught Fair with the basics, emphasizing on his absolute decisive attitude and competence. And, above all, no distractions concerning the opposite sex. He could have that when he was not on mission. SOLDIER 1st class had a reputation to keep. And if it depended on me, that reputation would remain spotless and clean.
As it should be.
As it should have been before-
In my mind, the names of my former 1st class companion faded at the end of my sentence. Nothing would change by blaming them, tainting their names as they so well deserved.
Once the Turks arrived to the meeting point, the departure was quick and effective. And I remained at Shinra headquarters, minding my own business with several files I had on my desk.
Soldier 1st class Genesis Rapsodos - Desertion.
Soldier 1st class Angeal Hewley - Desertion.
Civilian Eleanor Stevens - ?
That interrogation point made one of my eyebrows rise in annoyance. I couldn't believe the civilian file hadn't been categorized yet.
Would that be so hard?..., my ironic mind pleaded.
Sighing, I realized that I was going to have much to update on. Moonlight and stars still bathed the dark blue sky. Dawn wasn't even close.
-/-
As the day went by, my readings were methodical.
However, it didn't take me much to realize that one of the files was actually thicker than I remembered. And none of it concerned my previous companion's files. I had read Genesis and Angeal files before, and I kept this habit of re-reading those from time to time, wondering if there was any information that would have eventually missed me. Of course, there wasn't.
It was the civilian file - it was thicker. With information. Digital information.
Well I could use a distraction now…
And, without thinking, I put aside Genesis and Angeal's files and I lazily went through the civilian file once again. Everything remained pretty much the same – except for the lab final results, which had been added recently; the same occurred with her psychological profile and psychiatric evaluation – to my surprise, it didn't show any personality disorder or any schizophrenia of some sort. Apparently her mind was just fine. And, according to the final notes of the whole mind testing thing, the woman only revealed "unfounded anxiety".
I sighed, closing my eyes. Okay, so the woman wasn't crazy. Which left us with the most unlikely theories open for discussion. The memory of Professor Medina and his words, considering that the woman might be… special, made me want to crawl up the walls of my office with disgust.
Abandoning that line of thinking, I went through the next pages, which exhibited her physical tests. In fact, the results retrieved a very thorough physical testing. All organs and systems checked. I didn't expect less from the scientific mass working for Shinra.
The image of those scientists scissoring her clothing out popped in my mind at once. It had been in that moment they had scanned her. Physically. And how easily my mind retrieved memories of the same exact procedure, being done to me, countless times since I remembered. Shoving those memories aside with a couple of blinks, I went on with the reading.
From radiological scanning to i.v. catherization, fluid analysis, blood sampling and several invasive procedures, I had now a pretty good idea of how – apparently – normal this woman was. Apparently, as normal and regular (and healthy) as any woman in the Planet, except with some occasional breathing difficulties reported once in a while.
The link to all the recorded conversations showed below, bold italic.
I typed the link in the system and I accessed the online format of her file easily. The Genetic Testing Medina had shown me wasn't available there yet. I assumed the good doctor had repeated the genetic sequencing and still would be waiting for the new results to retrieve something more… adequate.
There was no way to link the word alien to Eleanor Stevens. It was just too…
My mind stopped right there in the middle of my unfinished, mental sentence. No, definitely it wouldn't be possible. That theory lacked coherence and logic.
Easily, I found the video files I had been searching all along. There were several – most of them seemed uninteresting, only one with the name of John Medina on it grasped my attention.
So. He had been talking to the woman – at least once for the record.
I hit the link and waited for it to open and finally, play.
And I listened attentively.
…
"Uh… a horrendous nightmare with the most unlikely personalities on it."
"Who?"
"Virtual ones. I do videogame a lot, so… you figure how my mind mixed General Sephiroth and Zack Fair in the most stupid encounter ever-"
…
I stopped, rewinded and played this specific part of their dialogue too many times for my benefit.
The words "Nightmare", "Unlikely, virtual personalities", and then… "Videogaming", remained strangely linked in my mind. And I didn't even know what on the Planet videogaming was.
On the top of all that, there was my name on it - and Zack's – out of that woman's mouth as we all were best pals.
Her tone saying my name. No fear, no respect, no anxiety. So unlikely the day she saw me, back in that questioning room.
"-you figure how my mind mixed General Sephiroth and Zack Fair –"."-General Sephiroth-".
"-General Sephiroth-".
"-General Sephiroth-".
"-General Sephiroth-".
She was saying my name… with the calm of a person who spoke about a person she clearly knew. No occasional coincidence at a random day. Not the "I know that person because I've seen him several times".
This took "knowing someone" at a total different level. So the conclusion here was quite obvious.
She actually knows me.
Now I was certain that she did, and way better that I would like to. But how?, my mind plagued, a sudden rush of adrenaline invading me.
And that just couldn't do, could it?
Before I knew it, I was out of my office.
Elie's POV
The afternoon was calm, and I was actually adapting to this place better than I would dare to think.
Well. Not that I actually believed I was in this… place, in which… Oh, God, I couldn't even say it in my mind. Was this possible?
They seemed so real. God, they actually felt real. I had touched Zack's hand. The General had handled me. He felt real. Real enough for me to snap.
Christ, he was scary.
My knowledge of who he was didn't allow me to think about him naively. He was the one-winged angel – as real as myself here, laying on this bed.
Zack was different, though. Maybe because I knew he wasn't one of the bad guys.
Which, in turn, made me wonder - in the middle of all this madness -, in which part of the story I would have landed on. Assuming I was accepting all this nonsense maybe too fast, I had no idea of the timeline here.
What was happening outside? Who was the President of Shinra? From what I had seen, Sephiroth hadn't yet gone mad.
Which was good. The last thing I needed was the man snapping with me involved in all this… reality?
God, what was I saying?
Part of me didn't in fact believe I was living in this reality. Because I was a very straightforward and realistic person to actually believe in that theory. So I had to be dreaming. And the worst part was that I was not waking up. I mean, I slept and awoke every day… but the scenario didn't change. And… it all happened very neatly to be a simple dream. Dreams were chaotic, weren't they? Filled with fragments of our mind, an irrational mix of events that… was not, categorically, what I was living here.
This is not a dream.
Sighing and closing my eyes, I wondered that maybe – maybe I had gone crazy. Maybe I suffered from one of those psychiatric conditions and it had taken me to lala land, permanently. But, did psychiatric patients recognize their diseased state? I know I did.
So, can it stop now? I'm getting a little tired of this.
It was like living inside that freaking Videogame, trapped in some EasterEgg or something. Except I enjoyed EasterEggs. They were funny to find out – when you're in control, not… when you are the bonus stuff.
No matter how many times I asked, in my mind, to wake up in my cozy bed, back in my apartment, no one seemed to listen to me. No God, no humans. No Gaia.
Oh, God, don't feed the nonsense, Elie.
I was here for several days now, and I was starting to realize that maybe – just maybe – I should mildly accept what this reality offered me. Well, not exactly accept. Just, perhaps, face it. Go on with it… confirm it. Somehow.
After all, I had knowledge of so many things. I could ask for confirmations. Events. Missions. Rebellions. Cities and… Chocobos.
The scientist responsible for me was really patient. Not to mention a gentleman. He didn't push, he did not insist a bit. And every time I looked at him I saw how curiosity burned in those eyes. He wanted to know things. He, I suspected, had a feeling something was wrong with me. I wondered though… what did all that testing had him concluding about me?
Sitting in the bed of my "room", I looked around, taking in the state I was in. Where would my former clothes be? I was wearing a very simple, white pajama. T-shirt and shorts – white as snow, they seemed to be out of a sterilizing camera. Most likely, they were. Every day they brought me a new one. The clothes I had on for the previous 24 hours went straight to a green plastic bag. It was a routine they repeated religiously every day. I wondered what they would do with so much laundry.
Thankfully the i.v .stuff inside my veins had already stopped. My arms were free from tubes and liquids, and my body seemed to be working just fine. Still, I had the marks of so many tubing inside my flimsy vascular system. Purplish marks that were now turning yellowish-green right on my elbow pits.
And the food – was as regular as it got. All of it came wrapped in a plastic, in vacuum. Even the water – tasted like a tepid iceberg. It was so pure it tasted funny.
As I stepped out of bed barefooted and roamed around the room, I realized it had no windows. Just the bed, a metallic nightstand and a green chair. The walls were so smooth and dull. And then, the door. Steel door – once again, it made me wonder the why of all that. I wasn't dangerous to that point. Why were they keeping me here with such-
A sharp, digital sound woke me up from my hectic thinking. My head turned immediately to face the door. I knew that sound was the prelude of someone going inside. There seemed to be a chamber outside my room, and I vaguely wondered if someone had been there watching me or if someone was getting inside to watch me through that mirrored glass that I was certain it worked as an observatory. It made me feel a guinea pig, I had to admit.
However, my doubts were easily solved. Not two seconds passed by and I heard the door that lead to my room unlock… then open.
And the least likely person entered my room, swift as a fox.
The General.
My heart peaked at that very moment and my bare feet didn't move. My stare met his and I found in there… anger.
Breathing heavily, I felt all my form tense, in response to his presence. I was somehow close to my bed, maybe a couple of meters, I could see all the white and green from the sheets and blanket, the white strangely mangling with the gray his hair possessed.
My God. How powerful. And how intimidating.
He stood still for some moments, taking in my presence. I had a feeling he was concluding I seemed innocuous, albeit I had a feeling he wasn't here just to stare at me with his magnificent cat-like eyes. In that moment, all my idiot mind concocted was "Man, the screen does not do him justice… not by a long shot."
Suddenly, he stepped forward – in my direction. And all my stupid dream-like state was interrupted by my inner alarms, alerting me the most dangerous sociopath of videogaming universe was now closing distance with me. Which was terrifying.
Oh my God. Automatically, images of his slaughter in Nibelheim, his sword murdering that half-Cetra, his sword on the President's guts filled my mind. Was he here to do that to me as well?
I scanned his form. His sword wasn't with him.
But he could kill with much less than that. His hands. His stare. His-
He stopped when he was half meter from me, which killed – allright – my capacities. Of coherence, I mean.
With my arms down, my hands reaching the bed as my bottom hit the edge of the mattress, I simply stared. And waited, as my eyes focused on the details of the buckles of his coat.
Is he real? My God…, my mind whispered, very close to snapping.
Well, he did seem real – like, a person. And the smooth smell of leather invaded my nostrils. His gloved hand approached my line of sight and he signed me to look up. He didn't touch me – and I thanked him for that. The last thing I needed was that. Something deep inside my mind was telling me I would not stand… that. Him, touching me. No way.
I didn't have much choice but to oblige. My face went up and our stares locked. Huge, he was massive and tall, so abnormally tall. Or maybe that was me, I was half-sitting in my bed and feeling like a compressed midget, that didn't help at all.
And then, finally, he spoke.
"Where do you know me from?"
His tone – so soft, so familiar and so falsely understanding. As my mind had concluded earlier, the screen stereo didn't do him justice as well. His voice was terribly beautiful, masculine and authoritarian… in here. In this place. It took me a few moments to process his question. Right, he was asking me-
"Answer me!" He suddenly said, rising his tone and grabbing roughly my right arm with his gloved hand. It was his left hand – the dominant one. Impatience flowed from his touch, from his form. I couldn't look at him – I couldn't bear that. His touch – so harsh, so filled with unavoidability, gave away the ease of a man who had everything he wanted, everything by his terms. I closed my eyes, praying for the absent God who certainly wasn't part of the same reality I was in now, for clemency. The consistent touch of his hand, the strong grasp of his fingers on my thin arm, were as real as incapacitating.
He is real…, my mind concluded, as I sensed the warmth of his flesh, slowly pouring through his leathered gloves to meet my skin. How could this be? How could any of this be?
My head hurt and my breathing was starting to get worse. And he was starting to get very annoyed with my apparent lack of response.
So, a sudden shake followed and another round of aggressive words started to take form. I felt my body quaver with his action.
"Where-"
"General!" A familiar voice, out of nowhere shouted.
John. Thank God.
"Step back." The scientist insisted, his sweet tone transformed, now very similar to the tone Sephiroth had been using with me since his intrusion. As seconds passed by, tension was growing thicker.
And I was starting to feel sick. Like, real sick, nausea included. The grasp the General had on me wasn't helping. It was a lot of stress, fear and my sensitive stomach wasn't exactly cooperating with the whole thing here.
As I tried to concentrate in performing an even breathing, I felt how my insides tossed and turned, making me shiver. A drop of sweat fell along my forehead.
"Just step back, now."
John's tone was now cautious. Authoritarian, but cautious. I couldn't look at him, I was too busy trying to get a grip on myself. I imagined he and the General were in some eye-staring battle, disputing the winner place, a battle that would have lasted longer if I hadn't been the one interrupting. Out of nowhere, my messed-up organism spoke for itself, as a wave of nausea invaded me, causing me to actually throw up the contents inside my stomach.
An embarrassing and throaty gag sound was heard and then, my body bended a little forward, trying to ease to process. My eyes were teary from the effort and there was vomit all over my left hand, arm, leg, feet, the pajamas I had on, the floor right beneath me… and on him. Part of his coat and his boots were now covered with a yellowish substance that smelled terribly acidic.
Ah, puke and its adorable features.
Breathing heavily, half-bent over my left side and embarrassed to death, I didn't even dare to look up. At neither of them. Softly, I sensed the General's grasp on me to decrease until it faded completely, and through my hazed eyes I saw him step away from me. I sensed how the Professor moved as well, but not in my direction.
"Sorry…" I whispered, not certain if any of them had listened. The only thing I heard was the door open – but it didn't close at once. Two white-coated persons made way inside the room, bringing the gear with them again.
"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to…" I said, my eyes betraying me and despair taking over me, as those persons took my clothing once again, removed the vomited sheets and blanket from the bed and headed me to that corner where they would spray me with that water that tasted like iodine, until my skin hurt.
And I knew that, after that disinfecting shower, they were going to put those nasty needles in my veins once again.
A/N – Okay, I had to put some interaction here. I hadn't imagined previously the BARFing Elie just did, but as I was writing the scene, it felt so… adequate. And it certainly fit. Come on, I think I would barf as well if I were in that exact situation. LOL The General has that power (among others).
Okay guys, hope you liked the chapter. I'm taking this very slowly as I promised and all I can say is that I have the most amazing plot outlined for this fic. Just wait and see :)
Read and review, please, I really need your support/comments/opinions. Your reviews feed my ego and inspiration! :)