V

CHAPTER V

INTO DARKNESS

With a mighty swing of the Buster Sword, Cloud cleaved the engraved doorway into a dozen shards. The ethereal fingers of the chilled mist bade him beyond the entrance and into the chamber, where he came to a broad platform overlooking the swirling rivers deep within the mountain. The scaling walls of the secret hollow were plated by long panels of immaculate aluminium, encircling the elevated plinth at the room's core, lit only by the pale green Mako and what little spotlights targeted the centrepiece. The pedestal was kept aloft by thick steel framework, passing to and fro across the cavernous pit below.

Sephiroth strode almost gleefully along the rubbery extension that bridged the space between the room's ingress and the podium, the tails of his cloak bounding gracefully behind him. He stopped at the pinnacle of the extension, gazing attentively at the metallic effigy before him. The masked angel statuette rested upon the base of a darkened capsule, not unlike a headstone, rising up with spanning wings as if willing to break free. It appeared to be some sort of elaborate filtration system, feeding the purified Mako into the tank behind. Again, Sephiroth held his arms out, welcoming himself into her presence.

"Mother…" he said enthusiastically, "it is I, your son. I have come for you, Mother. I have come for you so that we may take this Planet back for ourselves. I…I've had an epiphany: let's go to the Promised Land-"

"Sephiroth!" bellowed Cloud, the mere sight of his foe instilling newfound strength through his hatred for the man. "My mum…my hometown…how could you do this to them? Answer me!"

"They've come again, Mother," chuckled Sephiroth, lowering his arms to his side, not taking his eyes from the bosom of the angel. His tone was one of revulsion, choosing to address the sculpture rather than his subordinate. "Mother, with your superior knowledge, power, and magic, you were destined to rule this Planet. But, they…those worthless fools…those wretched beings…they stole the Planet from you. Though, don't worry, Mother. I am here. I am with you now…"

Suddenly, Sephiroth grabbed the abdomen of the statuette with both hands and heaved with the force of a behemoth. The excruciating grinding of metal reverberated around the chamber as he tore the body of the angel from its foundation, sending sparks fizzing between the disconnected livewires as the wings detached and fell away. A strange brown liquid bubbled from inside the open mouth of the effigy, trickling down its masked face, spraying across the podium as Sephiroth tossed it dismissively into the depths.

With a hiss of energy, the great capsule came to life. Brilliant lights awoke to illuminate the naked humanoid figure of Jenova, fully immersed in a transparent blue chemical. Her silver hair and lean face frighteningly resembled Sephiroth's, though her left eye shone with an unnerving red glow, concealed to an extent by a chrome helmet bearing her name and the date of her discovery. Her sinewy flesh was worn and frayed in places, wrapped by an unusual growth of organic matter, and pierced throughout by wires designed to preserve her ancient body. Sephiroth gasped with joy as he saw her, placing a hand on the cold glass in an attempt to become closer to her.

"We meet at last, Mother," he said contentedly, "so you won't have to feel sadness anymore-"

"Sadness?" roared Cloud, his grip tightening on the leather handle of the Buster Sword as he slowly began across the tube extension towards the platform. "Is that what this is all about? Sadness? What about my sadness? What about the sadness of all those who lost their friends and family tonight? Isn't that the same as your sadness?"

"My sadness?" laughed Sephiroth, engrossed in his study of the woman suspended in the tank, carelessly ignorant as Cloud drew nearer. "What do I have to be sad about? I am the Chosen One. I have been chosen to be the leader of this Planet. I have orders to take back this Planet from your foolish race and return it to the hands of the Cetra. That is why I was born; that is my calling. And I am doing all this for Mother. What am I supposed to be sad about?"

"Sephiroth, have you completely lost your mind?" growled Cloud from behind him, pressing the thick blade of the Buster Sword against his neck. Sephiroth's hands slipped from the glass, his breathing long and hard. He contemptuously turned his face to meet Cloud's uncompromising stare, his lips again forming a menacing smile. "I…I trusted you. No…you're not the Sephiroth I used to know…"

"You traitor!" snarled Sephiroth, slipping the Masamune from its sheath before Cloud could react, the screech of metal ringing out around them as the swords clashed.

'Do you really think you can beat him?' came the ominous whisper, buried deep inside his subconscious.

"You…who are you?" he gulped. "What do you want?"

'You told the others you don't remember what happened that night in Nibelheim, right?'

"So…?"

'Sephiroth is still out there. You didn't end it then. What makes you think you can end it now?'

"Why are you doing this?"

'You'll find out soon enough…'

Cloud opened his eyes to a thin strip of pallid morning sunlight that skulked through the stained window of the old miners' cabin, creeping up the walls of bare and rotting timber. The dawn seemed too nervous to rush upon the loitering rain clouds of the vale, instead peering over the summit of the Midgar Mountains with curiosity. A musky dampness hung in the air of the open-plan room, stale and nauseating. About him, everyone but Red XIII was still encased in their sleeping bags, the rhythmic breathing and Barret's snoring an indication that they were yet to wake from their slumber. The feline beast turned from grooming his spiked mane to meet Cloud's drowsy gaze, repositioning the gold barrette behind his hooped earrings, alert to his comrade's stirring.

"Bad dream?" he asked, his eloquent voice low and soothing.

"Something like that," Cloud muttered, unzipping his own bag. "You?"

"I do not sleep much," he replied bluntly.

"I bet that tail of yours doesn't help," Cloud gestured towards the flickering flames at the end of Red XIII's swaying appendage.

"You get used to it."

"Does it ever go out? I mean, will it work in the mines?"

"As a torch to guide us?" he pondered for a moment. "Yes. Yes, indeed it will."

"You sure?"

"Long ago, my race lived in the dark caves within the Valley of the Fallen Star. Grandpa - Bugenhagen, that is - once told me that if something exists, it is because evolution had intended it."

"That might've been true before Shinra came to power," sighed Cloud.

"That is also my opinion," Red XIII agreed. "I discussed with him the difference between plants and animals that had mutated because of Mako toxins in the soil, and those which had been genetically modified in the laboratories of Shinra. The latter are most certainly not the work of nature."

"And what did he say?"

"Grandpa explained that monsters can be differentiated from animals by the way that they treat the corpses of their opponents. Animals kill to eat; it is a survival mechanism. But, monsters often kill without purpose. To them, their prey is just sport; an irrelevant existence. Once they have killed, they simply move on to their next victim. When you think about it in those terms, humans have more in common with monsters than with animals."

"It's not the first time I've heard that…" Cloud nodded solemnly.

"Yes…well…living in one of Hojo's cages for more than a year allows you to view the world in a less optimistic light," the beast growled, the very recollection generating anger within him. "I witnessed many things in that man's laboratory that I would wish cast from my memory. The depths to which the scientists of Shinra will plunge without care for morality is simply staggering. Of course, you as well as anyone will know this."

"How did you end up in Midgar?" Cloud automatically changed the subject.

"That is a long story…" replied Red XIII, pausing as if to deliberate whether or not he should continue. He repositioned his heavy paws beneath himself with a hint of agitation, his powerful muscles flexing under a thick orange coat scarred by old battle wounds, dark tribal tattoos, and the numerical branding on his left foreleg from which his epithet had originated. "The short version is that Professor Hojo desired me as research sample. I was forced into a difficult situation, and the only choice I had was to make a deal with the Turks for my conditional surrender. But, what those scientists did to me…I have longed to return to Cosmo Canyon since that day. It is there that we will part ways on this crusade of yours."

Red XIII said nothing further, instead frowning thoughtfully as he stared outside. Only the faint patter of rain on the window disturbed the silence between them, remaining that way for several minutes until Cloud finally shuffled his legs from his sleeping bag and stood. His heart was still pounding in his chest; the re-emergence of that indistinguishable voice had significantly affected him. Not since the night President Shinra was murdered had it come to him, and not since that night had he thought of it.

What's wrong with me…?

Quickly performing a set of squats to relieve the lingering anxiety, he wandered over to the low stone fireplace, stoking the glowing embers to revitalise it. The hearth crackled weakly, gradually gaining in warmth. Cloud's mind drifted into a trance as his eyes became transfixed on the spluttering red coals, interrupted by flashes of a burning Nibelheim.

Tifa was the next to wake, then Aerith, and finally Barret. The group shared a bland breakfast of toasted bread and beans cooked from a can. There was little in the way of conversation, the gruesome sight of the butchered Zolom continuing to haunt them. By the time they had packed their things and vacated the lodge, the rain had ceased and the fog had lifted, and what beauty was present in the valley was at long last revealed to them.

The small settlement of Luchile's Pass was located on a bluff from which the East Gate of Mythril Mine could be seen approximately three-hundred feet into the glen below. The sharp cliffs on either side glistened with dew, patches of green and brown and gold moss sprouting from every available crag. A winding manmade staircase of concrete and lumber descended into the gully, coming to an end at a single rail track that emerged from the cavernous mouth of the subterranean opening.

"So…" Aerith breathed as she mopped her drooping bangs from her face, contemplating the climb down to the mine. "We're going in there after Sephiroth."

"I don't expect any of you to go further than you want to," Cloud responded, his words dancing around the party as if carried on the sweeping winds. "But, I have to find him. I have to stop him and finish this once and for all."

"We're with you," said Tifa resolutely, fastening the straps of her fingerless red leather gloves and clanging their metal knuckle studs together.

It was a statement loaded with determination, and one which appeared to represent the stance of the others. This was her first real act of support in the week since she and Cloud had sat alone together by the River Mandragora, recalling how she had been wounded at the hands of the silver-haired madman. The faint smile at the corner of her lips reassured him now, and suggested she had forgiven the indifference he had shown that night.

The uneven stone steps were slimy and mud-splattered, proving difficult for the five to maintain their footing as they made their way into the ravine. The grips of the company's hiking shoes barely kept them grounded on the steep decline, and even Cloud's military boots had become slippery. Only the padded paws of Red XIII seemed untroubled by the descent as he bounded elegantly over the hillside with ease. The peaks of the Midgar Mountains loomed formidably over them as they proceeded further and further down, the temperature dropping significantly enough for them to once again don heavier garments.

At the foot of the staircase, the earth had been flattened by decades of activity, the bare terrain now carpeted with a thin layer of weeds and grass. They found an empty watchman's station nearby as well as a hut filled with old shovels, picks and a handful of broken gas lanterns, but nothing of notable use. In the centre of the sunken ingress, a lone mine cart sat against the buffers at the railroad's terminus, its armoured iron shell and wheels rusting and neglected. The tracks themselves disappeared into the shadowy confines of Mythril Mine, the unwelcoming darkness creeping almost to the tunnel entry.

"Stay on your guard," instructed Cloud, drawing the Buster Sword, "we don't know what kind of monsters might be lurking in there. And keep close. It'll be easy to get lost in this maze."

Following his leader's orders, Red XIII marched at the head of the group, the brilliant blaze of his tail illuminating the otherwise murky walls as they crossed the boundary of the pit. The main entrance of East Gate was a high portal built of redbrick, but whose colour had all but faded to grey. Bristly moss and silken cobwebs hung from its arcing ceiling, and insects scurried to and fro between the cement fissures to escape the white glare. The nocturnal blackbats in the rafters stirred from their slumber, some cowering from the light, while others departed their roosting spot with a feeble shriek.

Gravel crunched underfoot as they walked alongside the tracks, the corridor beginning to slope almost immediately, though its gradient was slight. But for their own movement and the distant echo of running water, the surroundings were void of sound. After one-hundred feet or so, the redbrick passageway expanded into a vast rocky channel, held aloft by wooden buttresses.

Rope lines were pinned to the walls on either side, a way of guiding the workers when the oil lamps overhead had diminished. Thick timber columns fenced off the unstable sections, though some had wilted under the strain, supported in places by wire mesh or even barrels. The mine network of the mountain's interior had long ago been carved from dynamite blasts, crooked and potholed, and the crumbling stone still posed a threat.

The winding tunnels progressed due-west for a period, then turned north. The air had grown heavy but cold, laden with grime, and stifling to inhale. Every few minutes, one of the humans would stumble on a piece of rutted ground or an obstacle that Red XIII's natural torchlight had failed to detect, and Cloud would respond with a fierce scowl, lowering his weapon. The pair of rails seemed ignorant of the hardship, bending nonchalantly with the path until they were brought to a cantilever bridge that spanned a narrow but deep chasm, accompanied by the rumbling waterfall of an underground current as it cascaded a nearby precipice.

In the glow of his comrade's tail, Cloud could make out shapes on the underside of the steel frame, shirking from the radiance. No less than a dozen castanets clung to the bridge's welded girders with their crab-like pincers, their navy bodies shimmering, watching the intruders with beady yellow eyes in a mixture of intrigue and dislike. The vermin scuttled out of sight as the five crossed to the opposite ledge, their unsettled gazes acknowledging the daunting blackness of the crevasse.

This soon led them to a huge cavern which was undoubtedly the former core of operations. A granite ceiling spread as far as they could see into the gloom, bolstered by a grid of sentinel-like pillars and cloisters of dense lumber. Miners' tools lay scattered over the floor, rusting and surrounded by the glass of smashed handheld lanterns. The cart track diverged into several individual sidings, all but two of which were vacant, and a vehicle turntable that one of the trucks had toppled from and spilled its contents. Runner rails of iron chains and hooks hung disconcertingly above, and stout industrial cranes that had seen better days stood at set intervals along the northern perimeter, once used for loading and unloading coal or Mythril ore.

A decade had passed since mining activity had severely dwindled in the wake of the Kalm disaster, but the site appeared to have been occupied far more recently. As the party advanced between the tracks, they scanned the layout of the facility's nucleus with interest, taking particular note of the anti-Shinra graffiti on walls glittering with Mythril dust, a large portion of which came in the form of Wusheng kanji. Tell-tale signs of campfires and hollows where people had slept under blankets were prominent, but these were by no means the strongest evidence of a previous presence here by a resurgence group.

The five were stunned to discover the remains of what looked to have been some kind of militant base. Large scrolls of detailed blueprints were unfurled across stone plinths, pinned down at the corners by a handful of rocks and a single can of fish. The slabs were covered by a decorative black cloth embroidered with a derivation of the Crest of Wutai. It was an oriental depiction of the deity Leviathan; the serpentine insignia was not unlike those Cloud had observed in Don Corneo's mansion, and one he knew to have represented a special force within the Wutai Army. Uneven scorch marks and remnants of burned twigs on the ground, as well as half-full tin mugs and decayed bread, indicated the encampment had been abandoned in a hurry, and those stationed here had never returned.

The strangest addition to the scene by far was the row of breastplates that had been left along the bottom of an adjacent shelving unit, silver with the same symbolic engraving of the aquatic Water God upon them. Among the armour were a collection of gunlances and an enormous helmet whose shape was unnatural; it was sculpted to accommodate amphibian-like eye slits and wide nostrils, with a lengthy segment of thick chainmail extending from its neckpiece.

"What is this…?" gulped Tifa, her expression one of concern as she studied the area. "Did monsters do this?"

"Not monsters," Cloud shook his head, processing the information.

"How d'you know, Spiky?" scoffed Barret sardonically.

"This place was used by the Crescents," he answered brusquely.

"You mean…the Crescent Unit?" Red XIII choked with surprise. "Of Wutai?"

"Yeah," Cloud said, kneeling to inspect the cobwebbed gunlances. "These weapons belonged to the Wusheng, more specifically the Engetsu Corps of the Crescent Unit. After the War, many of the rebels regrouped under the leadership of the Crescents to fight a covert battle against Shinra. Most of the troubles were kept hidden from the public, and it was SOLDIER's job to hunt down and eliminate members of the resistance. The problem was that they were the masters of espionage - some were even Ninjas - and they were a lot stronger than official reports would ever let on.

"You see that helmet there? Those were given to the Vajradhara ogres that the Wusheng trained during the War for anti-SOLDIER combat. When Emperor Kisaragi surrendered, a section of the Wusheng went rogue, including pretty much all of the Vajradharas. The Shinra Executive believed the rebels were still getting their orders from the highest level, but they could never prove it."

"Gods," gasped Barret, tracing a finger over the blueprints, "this is a complete breakdown of the Central Complex in Midgar. You think these guys were plannin' to destroy the city?"

"It's possible," Cloud shrugged. "The insurgents didn't usually attack civilians, but they got desperate towards the end. Who knows what they would've done if SOLDIER hadn't stopped them?"

"So this was one of the Crescents' secret hideouts, then?" asked Aerith, her voice hinting at her wonder over the find.

"Looks like it," Cloud exhaled, rising to his feet and frowning as he noticed a faded scroll of parchment on one of the makeshift shelves above the armour.

As he reached for it, he heard a vicious hiss, followed by an aggressive rattle; the sound caused Red XIII to shirk away impulsively, the trauma of the Zolom chase still fresh in his memory. A viper the same shade as Cloud's coarse blue SOLDIER First Class outfit slithered out from behind the cabinet, its displayed fangs dripping with venom. The unusual twin tails at its rear distinguished it as a crawler rattlesnake, a species of the heg family, and one which possessed a highly poisonous bite. Cloud retreated a step, granting the serpent an escape route into a nearby hole, and it duly accepted with a final warning hiss. When it had vanished, he pulled the piece of paper from the shelf and gently unfolded it, holding it out for the others to see.

"What is it?" inquired Tifa before Red XIII was able to illuminate it properly.

"A map of the mines," Cloud replied, unveiling a diagram of the labyrinthine complex. Both the East Gate and so-called 'Distribution Hub' were clearly marked on the illustration, as was their destination on the western slopes of the Midgar Mountains. "It says we'll need to take the Pass of Angra-Mainyu to get to the West Gate. We can access it from here."

"Then, we should proceed," grunted Red XIII with foreboding as he glanced down to where the crawler had gone. "I sense that we are not welcome in this place."

Towards the northwest corner of the Distribution Hub, the company located the signposted opening to the Pass of Angra-Mainyu, a narrow walkway and the only exit not to descend from the cavern. Two elevator shafts and a trio of railroads that disappeared sharply into the darkened depths were situated close by, as was a broad tunnel previously used as an entrance for workers traversing the arduous hike to the buried quarries of Mythril Mine. His tail raised high above his back, oscillating back and forth, Red XIII directed them into the passage, the iridescent cave walls reflecting its mesmeric luminosity.

The incline of the route was temporarily trivial, channelled by long planks of sodden wood that reinforced their footing, but tiring over the lapsing hours. Though scaling the inner mountain became an increasing challenge for the lagging Aerith and Barret, Tifa and Red XIII displayed impressive stamina as they marched on ahead, and Cloud's enhanced physique allowed him to bear the burden of a loaded backpack and the Buster Sword while scarcely breaking a sweat.

Sephiroth had once explained that the Mako infusion during a SOLDIER candidate's tolerance examination not only gave them the gleam in their eyes, it improved their strength, agility and pain threshold far beyond normal capacity. Superhuman attributes were both the prize and price of greatness. To alleviate his own struggle, Barret had created a distraction by sharing his knowledge and experience as a coal miner in the Corel Mountains, relating much of it to the history of Mythril Mine.

Established more than one-hundred years earlier and stimulated by revolutionary feats of engineering, these dangerous but profitable pits had supplied most of the Eastern Continent with coal and gas energy long before the discovery of Mako and construction of the Reactors. Outside the Mako cities of Midgar and Junon, which had become monopolised entirely by the Shinra Corporation, traditional energy methods were preserved in the isolated rural regions of the Continent, or even in conservative towns such as Kalm.

During the peak of coal excavation between [µ]-εγλ 1940 and 1960, nuggets of Mythril ore were detected in the rock here but not actively mined. It was not until the true worth of Mako as a source of power was fully realised that coal value plummeted, alienating the once-prosperous energy firms from the industry, and the attention of the associated businesses turned to alternative markets. While some of the quarries beneath the Midgar Mountains were fortunate enough to boast the unearthing of copper, silver or even gold, it was this mine which proved the most lucrative of them all, eventually changing its name in honour of the rare and precious metal that revitalised its trade.

Mythril resembled silver but was significantly tougher than steel, and much lighter, thus perfect for weapon manufacturing among other things. Easily shaped by practiced craftsmen but uncommon in modern society, it was a polished and ageless metal, and one which could be found in the unlikeliest of places. Often extracted as an alloy, it had to be refined using industrial processes to determine its true form, and was ultimately treasured as ten times its weight in gold.

As the two-thousand-year-old [µ]-εγλ drew to a close, the displacement of the Mako rivers in and around Midgar gave rise to incalculable species of monsters, many of which originated in the lowest fractures of the mines where the streams breached the earth. Combined with slowing investment, this had contributed greatly to the subsequent closure of the facility, and the consequent infestation of abnormal creatures that ensued.

Watching carefully as their path unravelled, Cloud listened intently to the constant dripping of rockbound creeks, analysing each new feature of their trail. The cramped air was suffocating at times, generating the destructive illusion of claustrophobia among the party. However, the difficulties of the gradual climb of Angra-Mainyu Pass finally succumbed to a more spacious corridor, and the cooler atmosphere relieved the tension that was building amid the group. They were thereafter brought to a slim stairwell cut from the stone, with a delicate glimmer emanating from its height. At this point Red XIII paused, encouraging the others to continue on ahead.

"What's up?" asked Cloud, joining his comrade from the rear of the procession, immediately acknowledging that all was not right.

"We are not alone," murmured Red XIII, casting a wary glance behind them. "Something is following us."

"Shinra?"

"A more cunning enemy."

"You know what it is?" Cloud clenched his jaw, tightening his fingers around the handle of his blade.

"There is a foul stench on the air," he said, bearing his fangs. "I would recognise its vulgarity in even the darkest reaches of the Planet. I could never forget it. It is as I feared; we are being tracked by one of Hojo's experiments."

"An experiment?" Cloud repeated ominously. "You mean one of his research samples? Is it dangerous?"

"Remarkably," answered Red XIII, his single eye betraying his hesitance. "And he seldom hunts on his own. We should be on high alert-"

"Cloud!" Aerith's shrill voice resounded down the staircase, causing him to instinctively adopt a defensive stance with the Buster Sword.

"What?" he called hurriedly. "What is it?"

"Get up here!" she demanded from the pinnacle of the steps. "You need to see this…"

Sharing a fleeting and uncertain look, the duo took off up the stairway, the athletic beast springing ahead. Hurtling from the egress, Cloud felt the air rush from his lungs as the spectacle expanded before him, halting him in his stride. The others had gathered on the ridge of an elevated cliffside gallery, each of them leaning out through the gaps of the natural arcade, entranced by what lay beyond. He puffed in astonishment at the wealth of visibility, unquestionably the most they had enjoyed since morning, and at the revelation of such an extraordinary sight.

Countless great sloping columns of black and silver faded into the dark yonder beneath a lofty ranging ceiling of ragged shaded limestone, growing like a battalion of karsts from the vast pits, and forming the basis of this breathtaking subterranean landscape. Each scaling mound was a compressed assortment of coal, metal alloys, and lode Mythril, towering more than one-hundred feet above the majority of gaseous chasms. Their surfaces shimmered hypnotically in the ghostly pale green of the Mako swells that radiated from the deep, the toxic fumes skulking into the colossal cave from far below, the very image prompting the scar on Cloud's torso to sting painfully.

Accompanying the outcrops was buttress after buttress of steel framework, strengthening the foundations of the mineral-laden monoliths as a safety precaution for the mine workers, and connected by an impressive system of wooden walkways. The jagged bluff at the summit of each bore more scaffolding as well as a selection of coloured flags which presumably identified the metals that could be found there. On the southern side of the backdrop was an immense complex of deserted machinery, the silhouettes of sizable quarry drills and furnaces cowering inside its hulking shell, and from it wound the rail tracks and staircases that would lead back to the Distribution Hub. Huge bats fluttered in and out of the shadows above the facility, their flight patterns haphazard at best.

A piercing shriek somewhere in the distance suddenly stole Cloud's attention, and he held a finger to his lips, motioning for the others to remain still and silent. Crouching, he turned his ear in the direction from which the sound had come, listening acutely and skilfully to detect its source. Squinting into the dimness, he realised for the first time that there was movement atop one of the closer karsts, the outlines of prowling monsters partially concealed by the Mako mists.

A handful of humanoid sahagins pranced nimbly around the bleeding tawny body of a broken-winged ahriman, the turtle-like creatures sparring with powerful pitchfork claws to determine their dominance and claim the kill. Their sharp cries had attracted a flurry of activity overhead as the large bats soared and swooped for a better view of the proceedings. It was only when one of the circling creatures dipped so low that their profile passed through the veil of drifting vapour that Cloud's expression did falter. These were not bats at all; they were belials, vicious scavengers not dissimilar to the hostile gargoyles that inhabited the highest peaks of Mount Nibel.

A thunderous roar echoed throughout the seemingly limitless cavern, immediately ending the sahagins' standoff. The now-timid fiends slowly backed away from the struggling ahriman, retreating as a pack towards the crest of the slope, and the belials maintained their cautious position above. The dull boom of heavy footsteps reverberated from the site, followed by a second deafening bellow, and Cloud's eyes widened with awe as the King Behemoth emerged from the blackness at the base of the outcrop.

The magnificent canine giant lumbered uphill in the direction of the ahriman, its thick golden fur glistening with moisture, and its spiked club tail swaying lazily behind. The sahagins scurried hastily down the opposite precipice, clinging to the layered rock like geckos with webbed setae toes as the behemoth advanced. Approaching the bluff, the monstrosity lowered its neck to assess the writhing prey, its elongated horns of dense bone obscured from the onlookers by a wild mane of purple hair. As the ahriman flapped its taut wings futilely, scrambling on stout legs to escape, the brute struck it once, pinning it down, then lunged devastatingly forward with a full jaw of razor teeth.

"Would ya look at that…" exhaled Barret as the King Behemoth tore at his victim's pallid flesh, gouging its single terrified eyeball from its rotund head. "Not every day you see one o' them fellas."

"What's happening?" gasped Tifa as the limp body of the ahriman melted from the clutch of its slayer, dissolving into ethereal strands of Mako, the jade-coloured threads hovering on the air for a moment before vanishing completely.

"Its spirit is returning to the Planet," Aerith whispered softly, her words carrying a vague sense of enlightenment, as if the scene had brought her a new understanding of the world.

"Come, let us move on," bade Red XIII as the others watched in hushed fascination, agitated by the threat of pursuit. "We must hurry to the West Gate."

"Do as he says," Cloud instructed, rising to his feet and once again shouldering the backpack. "We've already wasted too much time here."

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