XV

CHAPTER XV

THE NIBELHEIM INCIDENT:

THE JENOVA PROJECT

"…Am I human?" Cloud repeated, sensing the captivation of the others. "I didn't quite understand what Sephiroth was saying at the time. And I was even more shocked to learn that the Shinra had been producing these creatures…"

"Damn Shinra!" barked Barret, slamming his gun-arm against the headboard of his bed.

"Hey, keep the noise down," scolded Aerith.

"Sorry…" he muttered sheepishly, "it's just the more I hear, the more I hate 'em. What Sephiroth said 'bout the Mako…that explains why there's been an increase in monsters in the last few decades. 'Specially 'round Midgar."

"Who would've thought the Mako Reactor held a secret like that?" said Tifa softly, the long fringe of her silken hair hiding one side of her face.

"Weren't you waiting outside at the time?" asked Aerith, confused.

"I was," she replied quietly, "but they would never have told me what was being held down there. All this is new to me, too."

"So, what happened next?" pressed Red XIII, his usual calm voice mingled with eagerness, still very much involved with the developing story. His fiery tail glowed like a candle in the dimness of the room, illuminating the dark corner in which he lay.

"We returned to Nibelheim," continued Cloud. "Sephiroth was acting really strange; I obviously knew he was in distress, but he was clearly restraining all feeling from surfacing. When we reached the town, he immediately confined himself in his room at the inn, leaving me to brief our Turk contact on what had happened at the Reactor. For days I tried to talk to him through his locked door, but he never answered me…never left his room. The Turks had no success locating our missing comrade, and had to report his assumed death. Then, Sephiroth suddenly vanished. We eventually found him inside the largest building in Nibelheim…"

Cloud felt the rays of the late morning sunshine scorch his back as he jogged along the rocky path that led from the town, the dry weeds rustling underfoot with each heavy step taken. He passed the old orchard, what little fruit remained on the trees inside withering as autumn drew near, and remembered how Tifa and her annoying friends would often play there during their youth. Opposite the orchard, a thin trail turned west from the road, snaking its way over the hill towards the meadows in the west, lined on both sides by magnificently coloured flowers, and shaded in parts by low branches still laden with large leaves of green and gold. The path before him gradually became less steep, leading into an isolated mountainside recess, and the high rooftop of Shinra Mansion came into view, dark against the grey backdrop of the cliffs.

It had been less than ten minutes since Samantha had called to say there were rumours throughout Nibelheim of overnight disturbances from the supposedly abandoned manor, and that he had been ordered to check it out by the President. Since Sephiroth's mysterious disappearance the previous afternoon, Cloud had grudgingly spent all of his time at Gramps' Inn, awaiting the return of his Captain. With an escalating concern among the Executive, it had come as no surprise to him that they had arrived at the conclusion to take action.

A small crowd of Zangan, the young photographer, Tifa, and her father had congregated at the foot of the mansion's wrought-iron gate, parting as he hurriedly approached, their hushed discussions dying away with their separation. The men watched him with a mixture of curiosity and disdain; growing more intolerant with the continuing presence of Shinra, Inc., and wary of their business here. Tifa did not meet Cloud's eyes as he joined them, instead stroking the white fur of the pet cat she cradled. Only Zangan spoke.

"Your Shinra friends have already gone inside," he said, pointing at the black gateway which now stood slightly ajar. A rusted padlock lay cleaved in two on the earth beside it, the precision cut indicating the work of the Masamune.

"Good," said Cloud. "No-one else is authorised to enter."

"You know what Sephiroth's doing in there?" asked Mr. Lockhart, making no effort to mask the distaste in his voice.

"More importantly," added Zangan sincerely, "is there any reason to think he might harm this town?"

"Harm the town?" Cloud frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I'm no stranger to some of the Shinra's shadier activities," he sighed, casting an anxious glance towards the building. "SOLDIER and the Turks showing up here means things are serious. And serious usually ends in an operation to erase anything that may cause the Company embarrassment."

"Is that so?" Cloud responded non-committedly.

"Take it from me, boy. You pick these things up when you travel as much as I do."

"Well, I have no idea what Sephiroth is doing," said Cloud, "but I can assure you, old man, he would never do anything to harm Nibelheim."

"Let's hope your faith in him isn't misplaced," retorted Tifa's father, folding his arms stubbornly. "But, until we know this town is safe, we're not moving from here."

With a faint nod to the group, Cloud stepped forward, and pushed the creaking gate open. A broad garden path of paved slabs wound amongst a healthy growth of unkempt grass and weeds from the gateway to the tall oak entrance of the manor. The desolate walls of redbrick and ashen limestone adorned by dark pine rose up from the foundations like a silent apparition, broken with decay and awash with skulking ivy, seemingly concealing within their domain an eerie and cursed past. Many blackened windows peered down at him from both wings of the enormous house, their leering faces marking the eyes of the many forbidden rooms.

Cloud recalled Company employees had lived and worked there when he was young, but the children of the town had always shared stories of how the manor was haunted. He tried to close his mind to the unnatural aura of despair that surrounded even the grounds of the estate, an unwelcome sensation of apprehension falling over him as he gripped the thick handle of the front door and pushed.

The old door juddered, but opened without much fuss into the foyer of the mansion. A haze of dust met him, making him gag slightly as he inhaled a lungful of musty air, his eyes scanning the magnificent entrance hall for traces of movement in the dimness. The once-white walls around him were yellow and peeling, the frail sheets of fallen decorative paper curling over a worn brown crest-patterned carpet that had seen better days. Open doorways on either side of him revealed two large store cupboards and a billiard room, as well as an enchanting lounge which would have hosted many guests with its grand piano and private bar. All were neighboured by empty, lightless corridors that ventured farther into the building.

A shuffling of feet could be heard from a room above, echoing through the floorboards, stirring as he took a single step towards the great sweeping staircase that climbed the east wall before him. It led to the landing of the second floor, overlooked by three long, grimy bay windows, from which all light in the hall came. What little sunlight burst through the veil of dirt and flowing designs of the glass was reflected on the extravagant crystal chandelier that hung from the lofty ceiling, blinding him temporarily as he moved, forcing him to instinctively draw the Buster Sword as the silhouette of a woman appeared against the windows.

"Cloud?" called a familiar voice. "Cloud, it's alright. It's me."

"Got something?" he asked, slotting the weapon back over his shoulder, and shielding his eyes as he looked up at the Turk.

"I've just been in the archives. It's in quite a state," reported Samantha, holding up the file she still clutched in her hand. "Looks like Sephiroth found what he was searching for."

"What is it?"

"There's a laboratory hidden in the basement of the mansion," she explained. "But…some terrible things went on down there. I only peeked at a couple of the documents, then I had to get outta the room. This place creeps me out. I keep hearing this manic laughter but, when I turn round, there's no-one there. I think that's maybe why the research was shut down here."

"It's just your imagination," he chuckled, ambling up the steps to meet her. Behind them, there came a scraping sound, causing Samantha to jump with fright, reaching for her shotgun. Looking up, Cloud watched the young soldier scurry down the narrow corridor of the east wing, skidding to a halt on the landing in front of them and standing to attention.

"Did you find the entrance to the laboratory?" asked Samantha.

"I think you should come take a look at this."

Wary of the groaning rot of the staircase beneath his boots, Cloud mentally noted his surroundings as they began after the infantryman. The hallway at the height of the foyer extended through both wings of the mansion; the west passage proving much less dim as it trailed past many rooms towards what appeared to be a small botanic area bathed in dry daylight. The corridor to the east bore a more ominous facade; shaded and cobwebbed, and evidently untouched for years but for the faint smear of recent footprints on the moulding floorboards. Allowing the pair to catch up to him, the soldier gestured towards a doorway near the end of the hall, urging Cloud and Samantha to proceed forward.

Puzzled, Cloud drew a sharp breath but did not hesitate, slipping down the passage with curiosity. Old oil lamps drooped from the pale walls, each as lifeless as the next, placed between worn picture frames of countryside landscapes depicting moors and lakes. Of the trio of doors that bordered the left side of the corridor, only one remained open, the floral wallpaper and large magenta poster bed within representing a female guest room. Coming to the final door on the right, Cloud slowed, cautious as he peered inside.

Like the rest of the manor's interior, the study was cast in shadow, thick curtains of pallid green drawn across the windows to block the view of the Nibel Mountains. A single bookshelf garnished the far wall, peculiarly laden with ornaments of varying sizes, but only a handful of leather-bound books. Other than a small reading sofa adjacent to the shelf, and the tartan rug at the centre of the space, the study was bare of furniture.

Following the footprints left in the dust, Cloud's eyes moved to the rear of the room, falling upon a segmented curving wall of grey brick. Gathering his bearings, he realised the section belonged to the exterior of the mansion's east tower, seeming oddly out of place in the corner of the study. The footsteps had come to a halt before the wall, vanishing completely without trace.

"Weird, isn't it?" said the soldier from behind Cloud, squeezing into the room as Cloud started towards the section. "The tracks just end here. There's no sign of recent movement anywhere else in this part of the house, so he must have somehow gone through here. I thought I should wait on you before going any further."

"Good call," agreed Cloud, running his fingertips over the wall as he carefully studied the brickwork. "Aha!"

With a gentle push against the thin, concealed hinge, there came a grinding of cogs and scraping of stone, and a square division of the wall began to slide backwards and aside, exposing a dark chasm within. The deep hollow was enclosed by the same grey slabs of the tower's external wall, draped in parts with rusted chains, the unstable planks of a secret makeshift stairwell winding their way into the depths of the strange abyss. Cloud choked as a pungent stench like decomposed fruit reached his nostrils, forcing him to turn his head from the doorway.

"What the hell is that?" coughed the young infantryman, gasping under his mask.

"Whatever it is, it's been down there a while," moaned Samantha. "I hope for its sake, it's dead. I better go call this in."

"You goin' down?" asked the soldier.

"Yeah," nodded Cloud. "I have to find Sephiroth. Don't move until I get back, okay? And don't let anyone else down here."

"Yes, sir."

"I told you not to call me "sir"," he grumbled, ducking under the low gap, alert as he carefully began down the broken strips of wood.

The air grew alarmingly cold as Cloud descended into the unknown, the trail taking him below the ground floor of the manor by his estimations. The faint light of a burning flame flickered from the base of the tower pit, illuminating the slender entrance to an underground passage. Coming to the ragged foot of the staircase, stopping briefly to absorb the warmth of the lamp, he could make out the wiry tunnel as it twisted north beneath the gardens of the estate. Another flame shone weakly from around a widening bend a number of feet along the chilling stone corridor, sending shadows dancing around the grim walls of carved granite.

The muffled thump of Cloud's army boots resonated down the tunnel as he walked, his steps quick and determined. The passage brought him after a short trek to a small cavern of dark jagged rock, its domed ceiling inhabited by a few sleeping bloodbats, their twitching bodies stirring above him. Similar to the tower, iron chains with handcuffs hung from the cave walls, not unlike those of medieval torture devices, while other unusual objects lay scattered amongst the faded crates that sat idly along his path. The distant sound of gargling water echoed slightly about him, the stale aroma of the underground air seeming to mingle with that of sewage.

A green light emanated from beyond the doorway of a basement room at the opposite end of the cavern, wavering as someone passed back and forth inside. A sense of relief fell over Cloud as he strode towards the room; Sephiroth's muted voice drifted down the tunnel towards him. As he moved, his eyes caught the distinct form of a second door in the darkness of the cave, its entrance hidden somewhat by the surrounding rock. The chamber seemed without life or use, and he immediately dismissed it from thought in his impatience to join his Captain.

Cloud blinked hard as he gently pushed the creaking wooden door of the basement room open, the brilliant green glow of the overhead lamps enveloping him. As his eyes came to focus, the outlines of high shelves took shape before him, climbing the broad walls around the space, each loaded to the brim with beakers and jars containing different substances. A large stone surgical table rested at the centre of the laboratory, its blood-stained surface littered with medical tools and frayed parchment, the electrodes at either end connected by loose wires to a series of dated computer systems that lingered silently in the corner.

On both sides of the workstations stood two different enormous glass capsules, the cylinders easily tall enough to hold a man, with heavy tubing running from the four pedestals across the floor to what appeared to be a miniature Mako compressor. Cloud recognised a pair of these as obsolete versions of the Mako Recovery Units used to treat and heal wounded SOLDIERs.

A small passageway led from the research area to a cosy library study deeper still within the underground caves, lined by scaling bookshelves of hardback volumes and innumerable filed reports. The golden light emitted from the study was shallow but warming, welcoming amid the bizarre furnishings of the basement. Piles of books lay stacked on the floor of the corridor, noticeably arranged neatly by order.

"…the organism," Sephiroth read aloud from the bound file he carried as he paced the passage, his back to Cloud, ignoring the intrusion, "apparently dead, was found in suspended animation in a two-thousand-year-old geological stratum, imprisoned in the cliffside of the newly chartered Northern Crater-"

"Sephiroth?" called Cloud, suddenly made uneasy by the detached tone of the words.

"Professor Gast Faremis," Sephiroth continued without falter, "leader of the expedition and Head of Biological and Biochemical Development, having succeeded Professor Grimoire Valentine after his tragic and untimely death some years before, ordered the organism to be taken to Gast Laboratory of Shinra, Inc.:

March 17th, [µ]-εγλ 1976:

Professor Gast names organism 'Jenova'

April 8th, [µ]-εγλ 1976:

Testing on organism approved

July 31st, [µ]-εγλ 1976:

Gast Laboratory verifies organism is

an Ancient

August 30th, [µ]-εγλ 1976:

Ancients Project initiated

October 15th, [µ]-εγλ 1976:

Cells extracted from organism used to initiate

Project Jenova G

July 2nd, [µ]-εγλ 1977:

Mount Nibel Mako Reactor approved for

organism storage

August 9th, [µ]-εγλ 1977:

Project Jenova G yields imperfect specimen 'G'

November 26th, [µ]-εγλ 1977:

Project Jenova G yields imperfect specimen 'A'

February 12th, [µ]-εγλ 1978:

Project Jenova S approved

"…the Jenova Project?"

"Sephiroth?"

"My…my mother's name was Jenova…" he whispered, the paper falling from his hand as his elegant body seemed to sink with weighted thoughts. "Is this…it must just be a coincidence. It must be! Professor…why didn't you tell me anything? Why did you disappear? Why did you die? Genesis…is he right…?"

"Sephiroth…?" repeated Cloud, hushing his voice to one hinting of empathy.

The silver hair of the Captain of SOLDIER shimmered slightly in the illuminating green lamp light as his body trembled with torment, the lengthy strands swaying below his waist. As his fists tightened at his side, his shoulders appeared to broaden and rise, casting his long shadow across the cold stone floor. With a sharp turn, he glared at Cloud through fiery red eyes, and let out a menacing growl.

"Let me be alone…"

"…after that, we simply respected his wishes, taking turns to keep watch over the basement laboratory without entering or communicating with him. The Shinra Executive deemed the situation particularly serious; they believed Sephiroth had uncovered something in the archives that had never been intended for his eyes. A special team of scientists were sent from Midgar to clean up the mess at the Reactor, but their orders were classified. Nothing changed for almost a week. Sephiroth shut himself in there and continued to review the library's decades of reports like a man possessed, never eating, never sleeping…and not once did the light of the study go out…"

Cloud grudgingly watched the ghostly silhouette of the Turk vanish into the tunnel from which he had just come, for the first time with the fluttering sensation of irritation in his duty to relieve her of her post. As Samantha's footsteps died away into the darkness, the subterranean cavern was again consumed by only the remote murmur of the town's sewage system and the occasional shrieks of its resident sahagins. There was little left to explore of the estate, be it the countless hidden passages of the mansion or the secured rooms that could be found even deeper underground. He glanced over the dusty, unmarked crates and barrels against the wall to the familiar green outline of the laboratory's entrance, and resisted the pulsating urge to unleash his stored frustration with the Buster Sword.

Scraping his boots along the dry floor, Cloud ritually wandered the span of the cave, weaving among the rock formations, eventually pressing a prying ear to the ancient door. All was still inside, silent but for the low hum of overhead electricity. In the days that he had been coming and going from the basement, there had always been some form of movement or sound from within the room, and lack thereof struck him as unusual, even in the late evening hour. Something's different…

Knocking once, there came no answer. Pausing to gather his puzzled thoughts, he slowly nudged the door open, shading his eyes from the burning light. The area was as it had been on his previous visit, the outdated machines remaining as deathly serene as ever, but an unexpected sight met him as he turned towards the library corridor. Cloud gasped as his stunned stare passed over the bare pinewood bookshelves, traces of slow decay evident on their lofty ledges, their bases cluttered with heaps of discarded tomes and documents. Sephiroth, it seemed, had left none untouched.

A cruel cackle came from the study as Cloud stumbled into the room, floating through the arid air like an old record. It sent a chill down his spine; it reminded him of the wicked faces of past foes. Cautiously, he edged down the passage towards the golden lamplight and the source of the laughter, careful not to tread on the sprawled pages beneath him, coming at last to the small library.

The space was more cramped than the laboratory, its square walls furnished on all sides by recently emptied shelves. A mahogany reading desk was situated atop a large warm-coloured rug at the centre of the study, at which sat Sephiroth in the grand armchair, his head bowed in his hands. He did not stir as Cloud approached, waiting instead until his inferior stood over him at the table before lifting his gaze. His lean face had become grey and twisted, an unforgiving blackness surrounding his deep eyes.

"Ah, if it isn't the traitor?" sneered Sephiroth, his pallid features laden with disgust.

"Traitor?" stammered Cloud, stepping warily back from the desk as Sephiroth rose dauntingly from his seat, his impressive physique distinguishing his immeasurable presence. "What are you talking about?"

"You ignorant traitor!" spat Sephiroth, pointing accusingly at him. "I'll tell you exactly what I'm talking about. Millennia ago, this Planet belonged to a people known as the Cetra. The Cetra were a nomadic race, wandering across mountains, through valleys, to every corner of the Planet…as was their calling. They would migrate in, speak with and settle the Planet, then move on. As stated in the Chronicles of Yore, at the end of their long, harsh journey, the Cetran people would find the Promised Land, and supreme happiness.

"But, those who disliked the journeys appeared. The ones who stopped the migrations, built shelters, and elected to lead an easier life. They ceased their communication with the Planet, turning their back on their calling. They took all which the Planet and the Cetra had created and nurtured, unwilling to give anything in return. They…they are your ancestors!"

"Sephiroth, I don't understand…"

"Long ago, disaster struck this world," he persisted, his snarling voice encasing the frozen Cloud. "A meteorite collided with the Planet, wounding it so much that it required a mass of energy to heal itself. The Planet reached out, summoned the lives of its people to return to it. Your ancestors escaped; they survived because they hid in fear from the ferocious storms and earthquakes that ensued. Eventually, the Planet was saved from certain doom by sacrificing the Cetra, and your ancestors began to grow in numbers. They bred, multiplied, and assumed control of the Planet as if nothing had happened. Now, after many centuries, all that remains of the Cetra is what is written in the pages of history."

"But, what does this have to do with you?" croaked Cloud.

"Don't you get it?" scorned Sephiroth, a fleeting smile forming sardonically at the corner of his lips. "The body of a female Ancient was found trapped in the cliffside of the Northern Crater, and eventually brought to Nibelheim for studying. Professor Gast named the Ancient 'Jenova'. When I was old enough, he secretly told me that my mother's name was Jenova, but that she had died in childbirth. He strictly warned me never to ask questions about her. As a result, nobody at the Company knew that I was aware of the name. That's why they let me come here; that's why they allowed me to stand before her storage chamber at the Mako Reactor without a flicker of worry. Those ignorant fools.

"Upon learning the results of the testing on the female, President Shinra ordered the Ancients Project. The Company wanted to mass produce a race of humans with abilities comparable to the Cetra. The primary objective of this research was to utilise these people to significantly reduce costs and boost the efficiency of Mako extraction. Project Jenova was just one part of the overall plan; it's all here in these reports. I am the one that was produced."

"P…produced…?" gulped Cloud, his head spinning as he absorbed the words.

"Yes," Sephiroth replied coldly. "Professor Gast, scientific genius and leader of the Jenova Project, produced me. I was the perfect creation after so many failures. Just look at what those two became…but, not me. Now I understand why Genesis accused me of stealing the fame that he believed was rightfully his. In my veins courses the blood of the Ancients. I am one of the rightful heirs to this Planet."

"Sephiroth…that's crazy!" argued Cloud, blocking his path as he drifted almost weightlessly around the table, snatching the Masamune without expression from its place against the mantelpiece. "How did he…how did-?"

Sephiroth was on him with the swiftest of movements, reducing the gap between them with a single motion. Cloud felt his head smash hard against the stone wall, thrust back by the violent strength of Sephiroth's arm, and his world became a slow rotation as his body sank to the floor. The setting of the study began to wane before his dizzying eyes, the darkness swallowing him as the tall figure eclipsed the golden lamplight above him.

"Out of my way, traitor," jeered Sephiroth, his voice distant, stepping callously over him. "I'm going to see my mother…"

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