XIII

CHAPTER XIII

THE NIBELHEIM INCIDENT:

THE SILVER SOLDIER

Dusk was setting over Kalm as the party arrived at the town's archaic fortress perimeter the following evening. Although appreciative that the stillness of night was upon them, they had been able to recognise Kalm as a place of peace and tranquillity. There had been little stir from the settlement with the coming of darkness but for the gradual illumination of lamps at the height of the bastion walls, its inhabitants offering their farewells to the day. Passing beneath one of the tall archway entrances of the town, Cloud had surveyed the thick chains of iron that secured the open gates to the stone columns on either side, and was grateful of their welcoming arrangement.

The group's trek across the barren Wastelands of Midgar had been long and arduous, tracking what few northeast roads and trails existed amid the wilderness. A wave of stifling heat bore down on them as they slogged through the endless plains of lifeless soil, forever under the watchful gaze of the scavenging crimson hounds atop the sloping cliffs of rock and dunes of dried mud and sand. Cloud was only too conscious of the foul creatures that dwelled in the Wastelands; his missions there as part of the Monster Investigation Program and round-up of the Science Department's escaped research specimens had taught him as much.

Red XIII had also seemed concerned about the existence of the monsters, muttering under his breath about the recent breakout of a trio of Hojo's more dangerous experiments from the Unstable Specimens unit. His mind was soon put at ease by Barret, the distinct sounds of him loading the long bullets of his gun-arm made deliberate for all to hear. It was not only the ravenous fiends or even the bandits who roamed the land, however, that had kept the party wary.

Every so often, the group had been forced to seek shelter in the shaded bosom of the dunes as Shinra Heligunner scouts buzzed overhead or clunky Custom Sweeper robots marched past, always searching for the fugitives. Avoiding their pursuers, the company had spent the evening in a dell overshadowed from a great distance by the ancient peaks of the Midgar Mountains, taking turns to guard the camp as the others slept in a natural hollow, safe from the faint sprinkles of rain and whistling clouds of dust that patrolled the plains.

They had come at last, late in the afternoon of the second day, to a verdant landscape that had outgrown the disfiguring reach of the Mako Reactors; grasslands of purest green marred only by the fleeting smell of far-off pollution. It was a sight Aerith had revelled in; silenced by awe in her first experience of a world beyond Midgar. Their path had continued east towards the coastline and, coming within fifteen miles of the sea and the mouth of the River Mandragora, it had eventually brought them to Kalm.

The cobbled pavement of the main street had been undisturbed but for an elderly couple as the party ventured inside the sanctuary of the citadel, the pair slowly walking hand-in-hand under the warm glow of golden light from the windows of the townspeople's homes. The buildings along the road had each been constructed in a similar antiquated style of dark pine over white walls of sandstone, roofed by slates of blue tiling, although a handful of the numerous pubs and taverns had elaborated by adding colourful advertisements to their otherwise indistinguishable faces. The party had stopped below the sign of one such Cromwell Inn as it swung gently in the cool breeze, deciding that their journey for the day had taken them far enough.

Now, as he lay on one of the three beds in the room the group had rented for the night, tiredness finally began to sink over Cloud. He gazed absently at the ceiling, his eyes growing heavier with each flicker of candlelight that caressed the hypnotic floral patterns. There came a creak from the carpetless floorboards on his right as Red XIII completed his examination of an oil painting of Old Midgar that hung above the doorway, turning and casually crossing the room to the striped rug he had agreed to sleep on, the flames of his tail dancing behind him. Barret rested upon the bed aside Cloud, talking in hushed voices with the girls, both of whom had chosen to share the third and final bed under a window cast in radiant moonlight. Rolling on his mattress, Barret twisted to face Cloud, his expression inquisitive.

"What?" grunted Cloud, frowning as he glanced over at him.

"So, let's hear your story," he replied curiously. Aerith and Tifa had sat up in their bed, listening with interest.

"Huh?"

"After we found President Shinra murdered," he said, "you told me the crisis concernin' the Planet was more serious than I thought. What the hell could be more important than the Shinra drainin' the Planet's life?"

"Sephiroth…" Cloud answered quietly, lowering his eyes as he paused for a few seconds. "His being alive can only mean trouble for the Planet."

"But, why?" pressed Barret. "What's your connection with Sephiroth?"

"It's a long story."

"We got all night, ain't we? Let's hear it."

"I don't know…"

"Come on, Cloud," pleaded Aerith, the pale green of her eyes glimmering in the dim light.

His stomach tightened and he swallowed hard; it was something he had avoided repeating since regaining consciousness in Midgar; one which stirred so much pain and suffering inside. The wounds were still too fresh. Eventually, he looked up to see the eager faces of the group unflinching from their gawking stare as they awaited his account. Only Tifa remained unenthused, twirling locks of her smooth dark hair uncomfortably around her finger as her saddened gaze met his. He realised how hard the tale would also be for her. Although years had passed in reality, to Cloud, the events were still a recent memory. Sighing, he allowed himself to succumb to the pressure, pondering a suitable place to start the detailed retelling of his story.

"I used to want to be like Sephiroth," he began at last. "Just like most of the boys my age at that time. Since as far back as I can remember, I'd watch the television reports and read the newspapers to keep track of the War in Wutai. The conflict had been ongoing since I was a young child, and my mother would tell me exciting stories about the Shinra heroes that had fought against Emperor Kisaragi and the Wusheng. As the years went by, Sephiroth became the most famous of them all. He had everything; style, class…and, of course, unmatched strength.

"My fascination with Sephiroth is what fuelled my ambition to join SOLDIER, and to become a hero like him. I thought about him all the time, even in my sleep. My mum had given up on me. Not long after my fourteenth birthday, I received a letter to say I'd been accepted into the Army, and soon exchanged school in Nibelheim for the Shinra Academy in Midgar. Unfortunately for me, the Wutai War ended a short time after and, although I was able to make my way through the ranks, it grew difficult to prove myself to my superiors.

"SOLDIER's main duty after the War was to eradicate any resistance against Shinra, primarily the original AVALANCHE and the insurgence of the Wutai Army's remnants led by the notorious Crescent Unit. I thought my opportunity to shine had passed with the coming of peace, so whenever an important mission came around, I'd always sign myself up. It was my way of justifying my worth as a SOLDIER and much more exciting than the usual virtual reality training. Over time, I was involved in a number of assignments with Sephiroth, and the two of us became friends…"

"Sephiroth was…your friend?" stammered Barret.

"Well, it's difficult to say," shrugged Cloud. "Sephiroth was seven or eight years older than me, and much more experienced. He was someone that commanded great respect…not just as the Captain of SOLDIER, but as a person. When I first knew him, he would occasionally mention two men that had also held high positions in SOLDIER. He always gave the impression that they had betrayed him in some way, and whatever happened between them, I believe his personality changed because of it. He became colder as time went on and rarely talked about himself, but always maintained his professionalism. As I said, I worked with him on many assignments, so I guess you could have called us 'colleagues'. We trusted one another, until one day…"

"One day…?" Aerith repeated as if entranced.

"As you're probably aware," continued Cloud, "Shinra, Inc. hasn't always been known as an energy supplier. For the first decade of its existence, the business was called by its original title of Shinra Manufacturing Works. About fifty years ago, while studying the influences of Materia when combined with physical weapons, they developed a way to utilise the effects of Mako as an energy source, something that had been hypothesised for generations. Shinra were quick to monopolise Mako and its innovation saw them become the dominant provider of cheap and unlimited energy, thus Shinra Electric Power Company was established.

"Their method of extracting Mako from the rivers that ran beneath the Planet's surface was through the use of complex Reactor systems, the prototype for which was built at the summit of Mount Nibel in [µ]-εγλ 1968. It was Shinra's finest achievement, and for a long time was protected vigorously by legions of dedicated employees. The company received an urgent request one day for it to send SOLDIER out to investigate a serious problem that had arisen at the Reactor. I had just turned sixteen at the time and had only been a First Class for a few months. As it turns out, I was hand-picked by Sephiroth for the assignment, so I agreed to go in the hope that I'd get the chance to further test my skills. That was five years ago…"

"Sure is raining hard…" Cloud muttered to himself, peering at the muddy road as it emerged from the rear of the military truck, disappearing amidst the silhouettes of the Nibel Forest's armies of evergreen.

The sky had been overcast for the duration of their journey across the Western Continent, showering the countryside in spurts of heavy downpour as their vehicle rumbled through fields and woodland alike. It seemed like an eternity since the squad had left Midgar only a few days previous, and Cloud was yet to fully recover from the weariness of their long flight across the ocean to a remote landing strip south of the Valley of the Fallen Star aboard one of the Junon Air Force's Gelnika airships. Now, lost in a haze of his own thoughts as he listened to the soothing patter of water on the tarpaulin roof of the truck, he turned suddenly as the young Shinra soldier beside him groaned.

"I hate motion sickness," grumbled the boy, his head buried between his knees.

"I wouldn't know," chuckled Cloud, slapping his friend on the back. "I've never had it."

"Then, you're lucky."

"I didn't pack anything for motion sickness."

"It's fine…it's my own fault for forgetting."

"If you're feeling bad," suggested Cloud, "try focusing on the horizon. Maybe it'll distract you. Or why don't you just take your helmet off?"

"I'll be alright," he said, breathing hard as the wagon bounced once more on a pothole, the thick tyres of the vehicle careering over the rough trail.

Cloud stood, clutching a hanging support ring, stretching his legs for the first time in hours. Around him, the hold shook, rattling under the weak suspension. At the head of the truck, the driving soldier could be seen beyond the glass partition of the cab, concentrating on the weaving road before him. A third infantryman rested on the floor below the panel, partially concealed in the shadows of the thin fluttering walls. Taking his gaze from the man, Cloud glanced down, quietly admiring the dark blue sleeveless poloneck and combat trousers of his uniform, feeling only pride as he had every day he had donned the outfit in the time since his promotion from Second Class. I despised that stupid purple colour…

He began to pace back and forth across the short length of the compartment, sporadically pausing to perform a handful of squats, unable to mask his excitement as he thought about his return to Nibelheim. Although he had been informed by the Company that the location of their operation was Mount Nibel, his superiors had been reluctant to disclose much more. As his imagination raced with possible explanations to the disturbance, each as absurd as the last, Cloud looked up to see the pale green Mako eyes of Sephiroth watching him.

The Captain of SOLDIER had remained silent for most of the trip as if his mind had been fixed on other matters, his sharp face hidden beneath the long strands of silver hair that grew without waver down his spine. As always, he was clad only in black, but for the metallic shoulder guards he bore on either side of his high collar; a uniqueness that mirrored his status in the Shinra Army. His leather trenchcoat had been tightly buckled once at his waist to expose his bare chest and crested belt of SOLDIER beneath, its tails hanging limp around the polished ankles of his tall boots. The decorated scabbard of his personal sword, the Masamune, lay by his side, the slender, curving katana entirely encased to preserve it from being unnecessarily defaced.

"Settle down," he said coolly, crossing his arms as he leaned back on the weapons crate, his tone one of authority. "You're acting like an anxious kid."

"Sorry…I'm just…it's gonna be my first time back, y'know…"

"Hometown, huh?"

"Yeah," nodded Cloud. "So, are you gonna brief us fully on the assignment?"

"You haven't been properly briefed yet?" asked Sephiroth.

"I only know what you've told me," Cloud shook his head.

"I thought as much," he sighed. "They've tried to keep this one quiet. But, you should at least know that it isn't a typical mission?"

"What do you mean?"

"The distress call from the workers inside the Mount Nibel Reactor mentioned irregular malfunctions," explained Sephiroth, "so the Executive's immediate assumption was that there had been a breach of security at the facility."

"Like AVALANCHE or something, right?" Cloud speculated. Sephiroth paused for a moment.

"They had only been shown the first part of the message."

"Some of the transmission was kept from the Executive?" gasped Cloud. "But…why?"

"The President felt it would be best not to alarm anyone about the situation; the latter part of the message contained an incomplete communication about the Reactor itself producing brutal creatures."

"Brutal creatures?"

"Sounds familiar, don't you think?" said Sephiroth sullenly, reading Cloud's pensive reaction. "And on top of that, there have been reports from the townspeople of strange dragons in the area, apparently inhabiting the caverns within the mountain. Our task is to locate the source of the problem and neutralise it, but all this is very unusual."

"What do you think it means?"

"I'm not sure," replied Sephiroth, frowning. "The briefing notes mention nothing of the G-Army, but General Heidegger has classified this assignment as top secret."

"After all the other Reactor attacks recently, why would they place importance on this mission?"

"The SOLDIERs tracking Lazard last reported sightings of him in this region," he responded thoughtfully. "That's why I was brought in. We haven't heard from them in weeks and the trail has gone cold. It suggests that the circumstances are more serious than were first imagined."

"What about our contact?" Cloud asked. "Did they confirm any of this?"

"The Turks were sent to scout ahead, but they were unable to find anything new."

"And the workers?"

"That's just it…" Sephiroth said in a low voice, "we lost communication with them a number of days ago. It seems every last one of the Reactor's employees is missing…"

"But…"

With a tremendous surge of power, the truck lurched unexpectedly sideways, throwing Cloud to the floor. His head smashed hard against the plated steel, taking him a few seconds to regain his bearings. The grinding whir of tyres rang out as the vehicle spun from the road, screeching to a halt against a cluster of thick elm trees. Sephiroth rose slowly to his feet, unflinching as the truck quaked violently a second time, his cold stare burning through the torn tarpaulin.

"Sir!" cried the driver, scrambling for the steering wheel. "Something big just crashed into us!"

"It would appear," he snarled as he grasped the blue handle of the Masamune, drawing the sword from its sheath, "that we have found one of our dragons."

Stepping casually over the fallen boxes that had been strewn across the trailer, Sephiroth leapt from the rear of the truck, landing gracefully on the worn trail as his boots sank into the damp earth. Cloud pulled himself up and, snatching the Buster Sword from over his shoulder, hurried to join his Captain.

He felt his clothes become instantly heavier as he braved the torrent of rain, mopping the matted spikes of hair from his eyes as he waded through the troughs of sludge. Sephiroth had already circled the truck, luring the magnificent beast from the damaged vehicle. The dragon was almost twenty feet in size, its enormous clawed limbs causing the ground to tremble as it lumbered after him. Its scales were emerald green in colour, fading into a pallid shade of purple on its underbelly. A rigid spine of dark grey lined the monster's bulky form, separating its spanning wings, thinning to become two curling horns at the tip of its jagged snout.

As it approached Sephiroth, the creature bellowed, its thunderous roar reverberating throughout the forest. He waited without motion for it to close on him, the Masamune clutched before his elegant figure in an offensive stance, his jaw firm as he tracked the beast with his fierce glare. Its nostrils smoking, the dragon reared back on its hind legs and, with a mighty pulse, breathed a wave of powerful flames over its foe.

Cloud gaped in uncertainty as the intense blaze engulfed Sephiroth, submerging him within the inferno. Tongues of fire bounced harmlessly against the glowing spherical barrier around him, his arm held aloft as the Shield Materia created a solid wall of impenetrable magic. For a few seconds the monster continued its futile onslaught, the flames retreating at last to its gaping mouth. Sephiroth lowered his hand, the faint shine of the Materia in his forearm diminishing, completely unscathed by the blast.

The parted fringe of his silver hair clung to his cheeks as the downpour became ever-harder, his darkened gaze lowered to the muddy trail. With a flash of movement, he was upon the startled animal, his sword slicing effortlessly through its stomach, spilling its intestines across the ground. The beast howled in agony, flailing wildly in an attempt to protect itself. Leaping high into the air, he lunged at its neck, dragging his blade across its throat. The dragon gargled as blood caught in its gullet and, as it fell to its knees, Sephiroth showed no compassion for the dying creature, the tails of his black coat fluttering ferociously in the gale as he returned without expression to the truck.

"…Sephiroth's strength is unimaginable," described Cloud, studying the faces of the group as they listened intently. "He is far more powerful in reality than in any story you may have heard about him. I was mesmerised by the way he fought."

"So what happened?" Aerith whispered.

"Our assignment had taken us halfway across the Planet," he continued. "For five days and five nights we travelled from Midgar until, eventually, we reached Nibelheim…"

"How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?" Cloud asked, surprised by the question.

"It's your first time back here since you made SOLDIER, right?" said Sephiroth.

"Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes passing beyond his Captain.

Sephiroth had led Cloud and two of the accompanying Shinra infantrymen from the now-departing truck to the entrance of the town, stopping beneath the frail, overhanging iron gateway. A silent path of paved granite ventured deeper into the boundaries of Nibelheim from where they stood, lined on both sides by broad houses of pale sandstone, a thin layer of moss protruding from the slabs. A dated pickup motortricycle lay rusting in a small garden at the edge of the road, its decrepit exterior sheltered from the world by a white picket fence. The shadow of Mount Nibel began to shape as the cool sun of late summer appeared in the dissipating overcast sky, cautiously slithering over the red slated rooftops towards the party.

"So, how does it feel?" Sephiroth repeated, turning away from them. "I wouldn't know…I have no hometown…"

"But…what about your parents?" asked the young soldier.

"I was told very little about them," he answered, his voice cold. "My mother's name was Jenova. She died right after she gave birth to me."

"And your father?"

"He…" Sephiroth sighed, chuckling callously to himself as he clenched his fists. "Why am I even talking about this…?"

He started along the pathway, not once looking back. The three followed without sound, sharing brief glances of unease as they pondered what memories had caused such a reaction in their superior. Sephiroth certainly had not been himself since the untimely desertion of Director Lazard, leaving the SOLDIER hierarchy in disarray. First he was considering quitting the Company and now this? What's gotten into him…?

The narrow street guided them north through the town, the ground gradually inclining as they walked between houses of limestone and timber. The old oak shutters of windows and doors had been bolted closed on many of the homes, their hinges clattering in the whispering wind, the resonance broken only by the eerie chimes of swaying bells. Had it not been for the ghostly chimney smoke drifting from each of the buildings, they may have considered Nibelheim abandoned.

The squad was brought after a while to the wide town square, wispy mists of dust swirling nonchalantly at their feet as it was blown to and fro in the mild draught. The water tower at the centre of the forum was as Cloud remembered it; the shanty wooden frame that encased the well's pump was holding solid despite decades of rot, the small turbine at its height rotating hesitantly. Various stores and traditional shops marked the circumference of the area, their signage grimy and tattered as if they had remained unkempt for a great length of time. To their immediate left, there stood the grand building of Gramps' Inn. It had become a local legend in previous years for the splendour of the three-bedroom annex that extended out over the main portico, somewhat spectacular amongst the duplication of the neighbouring structures.

"The place is oddly quiet," Cloud concluded, surveying the deserted square.

"Too quiet," agreed Sephiroth.

"Everyone must be staying in their houses, afraid to come out because of the monsters."

"Maybe it's us they're afraid of," muttered Sephiroth, his nose twitching. "The stench of Mako is pretty bad here."

Crossing the short distance to the tavern, they came suddenly to a halt as its twin doors swung open, both SOLDIERs hastily drawing their weapons. A female Turk strode from the entrance, her straight brown hair bouncing in a ponytail behind her as she approached the party. She was small in stature, the black suit jacket of her uniform taut around her petite figure. With a smile and flicker of her sparkling hazel eyes, she holstered the automatic shotgun she carried, and quickly saluted Sephiroth.

"Samantha?" Cloud laughed in astonishment.

"Hey, Cloud," beamed the girl. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said. "And you? It's been a while."

"A long while," added the young infantryman, his voice tinny through his mask.

"Huh?" stammered Cloud, gazing confusedly between his friend and the Turk. "You two know each other, too?"

"We've worked together once before," Samantha recalled. "Still using that rifle, I see?"

"Enough of this," snapped Sephiroth, angrily slamming the Masamune back into its scabbard. "Have you anything new to report?"

"No, sir," answered Samantha, unfazed by his impatience. "Nothing has changed in the last three days. Everything has been arranged as planned."

"Good," nodded Sephiroth. "Then, we leave for the Reactor at dawn. We'll be spending a lot of time on foot tomorrow, so make sure you get to sleep early."

"What do you want us to do until then, sir?" asked the young Shinra soldier.

"We only need one lookout for the moment, so you can come with me just now," he instructed.

"And me?" said Cloud.

"You have permission to visit your family and friends, if you so wish," granted Sephiroth, turning and making a fleeting final inspection of his surroundings as he started towards the doorway of Gramps' Inn. "The other is on guard duty for the next four hours."

"Visit your family?" Samantha gawked in disbelief, watching as Sephiroth and the private disappeared inside. "Cloud…you're from Nibelheim?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Then it must be you."

"Samantha, what are you talking about?" he frowned.

"I met a girl here named Tifa," she said excitedly.

"You know Tifa?"

"I found her on the mountain after I got lost," explained Samantha. "She was up there chasing her cat. We helped each other out."

"What did she say?"

"When I told her I was from Shinra, she mentioned that she had a childhood friend called Cloud who left this town two years ago to become a SOLDIER. She asked about you."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said I didn't know," shrugged Samantha. "I couldn't be sure just by the name if it was the same Cloud. It seems the Planet is a smaller place than I thought."

"Not small enough for me to have seen her since I joined the Army," grumbled Cloud.

"You'll meet her again tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"I asked her to be our guide for the Reactor investigation."

"You did what?" spluttered Cloud. "So…she'll be travelling with us on the mountain?"

"That's generally what a guide does," Samantha stuck her tongue out sarcastically. "I'm sorry, but I really can't talk about it right now. Tseng is already breathing down my neck because I involved a civilian…"

"What did you expect?"

"Look, I…uh…I have to go," she said hurriedly, failing to acknowledge the remark. "I…um…still have a lot of work to do. I'll see you around."

"Samantha, wait!" he called as she jogged off, pulling her portable terminal from the breast pocket of her suit.

"What is it?"

"Can you do me a favour?"

"It depends what it is," she folded her arms.

"If you see Tifa, don't tell her I'm back."

"...hold on a damn minute!" interrupted Barret. "What the hell was wrong with seein' Tifa?"

"I guess I must have wanted it to be a surprise," answered Cloud. "I was really proud of making it to First Class."

"That don't make no sense to me!" Barret snorted.

"It was a reunion of childhood sweethearts…these things have to be done right," said Aerith in a matter-of-fact tone. Tifa shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly away from Cloud and blushing. "Why don't you just listen to what Cloud has to say? You can ask questions later."

"But, I was only…"

"Okay, Cloud," winked Aerith, putting a stern finger to her lips to shush Barret, "you can continue."

"Where was I?"

"You had been allowed to visit your family," recapped Tifa, her voice growing dry.

"Did you see them?" asked Aerith.

"I don't think you could call it a family," he said quietly. "My father died when I was still very young. I was an only child so, after I moved to Midgar, my mum lived in that house alone. I saw her that day; she hadn't changed at all. She was a vibrant woman…"

"Uh…is anybody home?"

Cloud pushed the old oak door slowly open and peered down the narrow hallway of the small bungalow, its rusted hinges creaking with resistance. The scent of cooking stew reached his nose as he entered, drifting in waves down the corridor, the aroma one that had been so acquainted with as a boy. Advancing unhurriedly along the passage, he saw a collection of ornamental vases resting upon the pinewood table on his left, lain out below the rectangular mirror that hung from the grey wall.

At the end of the hall, the room opened into a spacious stone kitchen, where a woman with long, wavy blonde hair stood at the stove, humming gently to herself as she chopped vegetables. Looking up, her jaw dropped, her weary eyes filling with untold joy.

"Cloud?" Claudia Strife whispered, the knife falling clumsily to the worktop as she clasped her hands over her mouth.

"Hi, mum," he smiled.

"Come," she said as he crossed the room, her arms held out. She embraced him tightly, holding him close to her. Stepping back to admire his physique, her gaze passed studiously over him. "Let me take a look at you."

"I'm fine," he chuckled, strolling through the hollow to the sitting room, and throwing himself onto the couch.

"You look so handsome," she chirped as she sat down beside him, beaming with pride. "So this is a SOLDIER uniform?"

"Yeah…"

"I can't believe how much you've grown in just two years." Claudia grinned, brushing the spiky locks of hair from his face.

"Mum, stop it," he moaned, rolling over on the sofa.

His body sank into thick blue cushions, reminding him of the comfort it had given him as a child. Everything about the house triggered a memory in his mind; whether it was the familiar smells of the furniture fabric, or the echo of the wooden floors around the stone walls with each step taken. There came a hiss from the next room as the stew gradually began to bubble in the boiling pot. With this, his mother stood and, taking one last look at him, she disappeared into the kitchen.

"The girls must never leave you alone," she called over the clattering of pans.

"Not really," he replied nonchalantly, kicking his boots to the floor.

"Cloud, I'm worried about you," she sighed, emerging again from her cooking. He glanced up to see her expression had grown serious; a hint of genuine concern seeping into her tone.

"I'm alright."

"There are a lot of temptations in the city," Claudia said, biting her lip. "I'd feel a lot better if you just settled down and had a nice girlfriend."

"Mum, I'm only sixteen."

"You should have an older girlfriend….one that'll take care of you. I think that would be the perfect type for you."

"Look, I'm not interested…"

"Are you eating right?" she asked.

"Yeah, the Company takes care of me."

"Is that so?" she frowned, thoughtfully. "You can't cook, right? I've been worried sick about how you were doing."

"Really, I'm fine," he insisted.

"Cloud…?"

"Yes?"

"Don't ever forget that I'll always be your mother…"

"…I don't want to talk about this anymore…"

The air had grown cold as the sun set over the mountains in the west, absorbing the daylight from around Nibelheim as Cloud made his way back along the streets towards the town square. There had been little change since he had left, the dull resonance of archaic yellow lanterns lighting the silent pathways beneath the cautious stare of cowering homes, the residents of which he had never cared to meet. The crisp breeze felt bitter against his face, whistling softly as it passed between the darkening stone foundations of the houses.

He came eventually to the broad clearing at the centre of Nibelheim, illuminated only by the dim glow from the windows of the Nibel Accessories store and the inn. The lone infantryman remained under the waning shade of the water tower, wandering back and forth for warmth, his rifle clutched in his arms. He turned quickly as he heard Cloud's footsteps approach, aiming the weapon in his direction.

"Who goes there?" called a shaking voice.

"It's just me," replied Cloud. "How are you holding up?"

"Not great," answered the young soldier, lowering the gun.

"How come?"

"I was just thinking about the past..." he sighed, casting his gaze to the twinkling stars above as they materialised from the lingering strands of ebbing sunlight.

"The past, huh?" Cloud repeated, folding his arms, tilting his head to the side. "You wanna talk about it?"

"No thanks, my mind just started wandering a bit."

"You're probably tired."

"I guess…it's so boring being on watch, and I can't help but feel nervous, y'know?" he said through chattering teeth. "You never know when a monster's gonna show.

"All you have to do is raise the alarm."

"That's alright for you to say," he snorted sarcastically. "You're excited because you're here to prove yourself as a hero. But, what about me? My job is to clean up your mess."

"Don't act like such a baby," teased Cloud. "Why don't you do some squats to keep yourself warm? Or practice the victory pose I taught you?"

"Again?" the boy rolled his eyes. "Why are you always going on about image? Do SOLDIERs always have to be careful about what other people think?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You know how badly I want to be in SOLDIER, don't you?"

"Maybe I'll tell you later," Cloud joked, patting his friend playfully on the back. "But, for now, just sit tight. That's your job, right? Besides, you're almost finished for the night. I'll see you when your shift ends."

Nodding under his armoured helmet, the soldier again began to patrol the square, stopping every few paces to perform a handful of squats. Cloud jogged the remainder of the short distance to the entrance of Gramps' Inn, and strode inside. He was met by a light haze of cigar smoke that hung in the air of the open-plan lounge, warming the room as it evaded the evening chill. To his left, there was a cosy sitting area, furnished with a few old armchairs and a pair of quaint dining tables. Through the fumes, he saw two men standing by the low reception desk across the lobby, chatting between themselves. They glanced up from their conversation as he crossed the pine floor to the staircase on the east wall, and gave him a wave.

"Hello there, young man," called the elder of the two, a bald man clad in a green cardigan that Cloud recognised as the owner of the inn. "Aren't you the Strife lad?"

"Yeah."

"May I ask why you're staying in the reserved rooms with the rest of your Shinra people?"

"What do you mean?"

"I just thought you would feel more comfortable staying at home with your mother."

"Sephiroth's orders," grumbled Cloud, shrugging. "Has he questioned you about the situation with the town yet?"

"Briefly," replied Gramps thoughtfully. "I just told him exactly what I told the lovely young woman the company sent; this town ain't no stranger to weird happenings, but we have to get rid of those monsters."

"And I suppose Shinra think they're here to do just that," chuckled the second man sardonically. He glared at Cloud with a dark, disapproving expression as he spoke, his deep eyes burning through him. He was a powerfully-built man, his strong jaw firm beneath his husky mane of grey hair and beard.

"Don't listen to him," chortled Gramps with a dismissive gesture. "He just has an old grudge."

"My name is Zangan," said the man, his face remaining hard but not threatening as he took a step towards Cloud. "I travel the world teaching children martial arts."

"Martial arts, huh?"

"Yes, I have one-hundred-and-twenty-eight students across the Planet," nodded the man, offering his hand.

"Including some now working with the Shinra," Gramps added mischievously.

"What brings you to Nibelheim?" Cloud asked suspiciously, giving his hand a single hesitant shake.

"I train a young girl named Tifa Lockhart in this town…"

"Tifa?" spluttered Cloud. Geez, does everybody know her...?

"Yes," Zangan grinned proudly. "A friend of yours? Tifa has an excellent sense. She will be a great fighter one day. Maybe she'll be able to teach you a thing or two."

"Don't count on it."

"Ah, the arrogance of the Shinra youth," laughed Zangan, taking another draw from his cigar. "It never fails to amuse me."

"Is that so?"

"Becoming a powerful warrior is always about learning new things; new methods and techniques. Never be afraid to incorporate something different into battle…it might just save your life."

"Thanks for the advice, old man," Cloud answered coldly, "but I think I'll stick with my greatsword for now."

"As you wish," smiled Zangan, placing a palm on one of Cloud's shoulder pauldrons. "Now, I think Sephiroth is waiting for you upstairs. Good luck for tomorrow."

"Yeah..." mumbled Cloud, turning from the duo, and marching across the foyer to the staircase.

At the height of the steps, he came to a long corridor whose pale walls and watercolour paintings had started to reflect the varying shades of dusk cast by the three bay windows lining the hallway. Sephiroth stood by the centre frame, hands clasped at his back, his expression melancholy as he surveyed the scenery. Joining him, Cloud followed his Captain's stare without sound, his eyes falling upon the distant Shinra Mansion.

A once-luxurious manor owned by the Shinra Executive, the grandeur façade of the mansion had become dark and haunting. It was located north beyond the town limits, barely visible amid a recess at the foot of Mount Nibel's slowly-increasing gradient, its overgrown gardens enclosed by a high and mossy redbrick wall. The building itself had always seemed a foreboding place to Cloud; its decaying stone face and lifeless windows as silent as a cemetery. Very few people had come and gone in the last decade, leaving Shinra Manor to wither and die in the long and sad passage of time.

"What are you looking at?" posed Cloud.

"This landscape…" Sephiroth said quietly, lowering his gaze as he turned towards Cloud. "That mansion…I feel like I know this place…"

"Maybe you were here as a child?" Cloud suggested.

"Unlikely," he shook his head, frowning as if deep in thought. "No, it doesn't matter…I must just be tired. Speaking of which, we have an early start tomorrow. You should try and get some sleep soon."

"I'll do my best," Cloud mumbled under his breath, absently twisting the leaves of the herb in the windowsill plant pot. "As long as that creepy picture doesn't keep changing."

"The Turks have hired a guide to take us up the mountain to the Mako Reactor," said Sephiroth. "I've been informed that she's young. I hope we can rely on her…"

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