XV
CHAPTER XV
UNFORGIVEN
Despite spending his childhood living in the shadow of Mount Nibel, and the party's recent passage through the great ranges of the Eastern Continent, Cloud was nonetheless awestruck by the grandeur of the Corel Mountains. Their scaling russet peaks were as dramatic a backdrop as any he had witnessed before, the silent giants rising from the elevated savannahs that lay far to the west of Costa del Sol and the Grangalan Peninsula. Even as close to the equator as they were, snow still capped the tallest of them like a crown of diamonds that glistened beneath the blazing sun.
The easternmost domain of the Corel Mountains was the gateway to the south, a landscape of magnificent flowing massifs as old as the Planet that formed the hundred-mile-long Bagnadrana Isthmus, connecting the peninsula to the rest of the Continent. As such, the bountiful Grangalan Plains were partitioned and protected from the harsh desert beyond, as well as the winds of the deadly sandstorms that often developed there. However, unlike the treacherous rock faces of the chain that flanked Midgar, the system of troughs that wound between the crests here could be navigated without much difficulty, and public roads were aplenty.
For six days, the company had traversed the sprawling moors of Grangalan, trekking across lush countryside and consciously evading the small rural hamlets that sporadically emerged on the horizon. There were surprisingly few individual farmhouse estates, separated by countless acres of their affiliated sugar cane or corn plantations. Grazing livestock were a regular sight in the fields, gnawing without disturbance at the bundled maize.
Streams and lakes of pristine water shimmered in every direction among the vast stretches of verdant greenery, their banks mobbed by flocks of silver-feathered fowl with barbed spikes on their tails. These were cokatolii, indigenous to the region, and renowned for their hoarding of treasure and fierce territorial behaviour, particularly in defence of their chicks, which Aerith had described as 'cute'.
While the warm climate and pleasant terrain were a welcome change, undeniably easing the gruelling demands of the crusade, Cloud's mind remained focused on Sephiroth. It pained him to have come so close to his nemesis, to have gazed into his pale green eyes, only to be brushed aside effortlessly by the callous words and magical strength of the man. He would be better prepared next time, as would they all; the added potential of a Summoner in their ranks was encouraging now that Aerith wielded the Shiva Materia, though they had agreed to keep it a secret for now. In spite of his unwillingness to wholly trust Professor Hojo's deduction that Sephiroth had come this way, he knew in his heart that it was true; it was an inexplicable gut feeling that transcended logic or even instinct.
The uplands that preceded the Bagnadrana Isthmus were isolated from the plains by a sheer wall of dark limestone known as the Harpy Cliffs, rendering the lofty plateaus and entrance to the Corel Mountains inaccessible directly by foot. Almost an entire afternoon was required to circle the looming hillside, named for the mythical monsters once believed to dwell within the caves there, until the group arrived at a zigzagging track which climbed a less perilous slope. From their encampment that night atop the ridge, they enjoyed a mesmerising vista spreading all the way to the white sand beaches of the tropical coastline, and the delta where the Jatayu Sound met the ocean.
Barret's mood had been dismissive at best in the days since departing Costa del Sol, detaching himself from the party both physically and conversationally. He often walked alone a short distance from the others, lost to his own thoughts, speaking only when spoken to and offering no more than one-word answers. This had not gone unnoticed, even by the preoccupied Cloud, and was finally addressed by Aerith while they sat around the campfire.
"Barret, you seem kinda down," she broke the silence as the others stared at the licking flames.
"Whatever…" he grunted, crumbling a twig inside his huge fist.
"She's right," supported Tifa, her expression concerned. "Something's different about you."
"It ain't nothin'!" he snapped frostily, tossing the bracken away and shifting his body away from the girls.
"Okay, okay…" Aerith retracted.
"We should plan for our journey," Cloud changed the subject, casting a glance towards the silhouette of the ranges against a magenta and star-speckled sky. "We still can't be sure who's watching."
"I know these parts," Barret responded under his breath. "I'll take us where the Shinra ain't gonna look."
Adhering to his self-appointed guidance, the company progressed as instructed into the mountains at dawn, bypassing the public highway to follow the worn cattle trails as they snaked up through rocky gorges that had been carved by time. These natural conduits funnelled cooling breezes from the sea, the unusual pressure changes in the air allowing wispy clouds to linger overhead, the first they had seen in days.
The microclimate meant that vegetation was abnormally prominent in the vales, the environment awash with evergreen shrubs and mesquite trees, though their leaves were in the initial stages of their seasonal bloom. Distorted branches drooped across the inclining dirt track, low enough to touch, the sweet scent of their bark filling the nostrils of the travellers. Scree crunched beneath their boots as they tread the rough paths, frequently clambering over protruding outcrops; a scant price to pay to ensure their seclusion from fellow wayfarers.
They came by early evening to an aged brick viaduct suspended between two dominating cliffsides. The frothing rapids of the Bagnadrana River churned hundreds of feet below, rushing from its source high in the northern peaks, its roaring waterfalls cascading the seemingly endless ravine as it bade obstinately for the calming basin of the Jatayu Sound. The breathtaking fjord lay just within sight, its glassy surface reflecting a spectrum of colours from the skies and sharp gradients above.
It was here that the five were granted their real first glimpse of Mount Corel, largest of the continental range, whose summit towered southwest of the bridge. Its remote and murky presence bore a lonely yet ominous façade, as if it clung to an ancient grudge, its forsaken pinnacle void of life. However, it remained nonetheless spectacular as the crimson glare of the sinking sun wrapped its fiery tentacles around the colossus, detailing every crag and desolate promontory.
"What an amazing view," Tifa had gasped, her jaw dropping. "I feel like it could just swallow me up. Reminds me a little of home…"
Crossing the viaduct to Simurgh's Pass and the shade of the western highlands, the temperature plunged drastically, forcing the group to don heavier clothing. The hardened mud on the ground had become matted by generations of trampling hooves and chocobo claws, now engraved on the very essence of the hilltop. Growing steeper as it ascended, the ever-thinning cattle trail challenged the weary hikers as their legs cramped and strained.
Red XIII, however, moved with impressive agility, leaping from boulder to boulder in single, effortless bounds as he scouted the route ahead. His discovery of a small grotto concealed by a bramble thicket proved a suitable camping spot and, at last, Cloud agreed that they should settle there until sunrise. As before, Barret had insisted on retreating into a crestfallen sulk, choosing to lie beneath the glittering cosmos alone as the lullaby of needlekiss birds echoed throughout the gulley.
The party had barely consumed a breakfast of dried fruit and shouldered their backpacks to continue the journey when something unexpected happened the next morning. Scaling the dusty path of Simurgh's Pass as it arced beyond the perpetual rumble of the Bagnadrana, they soon noted that the foliage was substantially less healthy than its counterparts in the lower reaches of the mountains. Commenting on the waning flora as they rounded a tight bend, the company came to an abrupt halt, for sitting against the trunk of a nearby mesquite tree was an old man, quietly humming to himself and tapping his foot gently in rhythm.
"Well, hey there," he hailed them pleasantly with a welcoming bow.
"Hello," Aerith called in return, marching past the others without hesitance, giving a tut as Cloud's fingertips caressed the handle of his greatsword.
"Ah, so you lot're actually gonna talk to me?" the rambler chuckled, straightening from his slumped position amid the gnarled roots. "You're not bandits, are you?"
"Excuse us," pouted Aerith, playfully acting affronted. "Do we look like bandits?"
"Well, these 'ere hills used to be crawlin' with 'em," he shrugged. "Guess them times're gone. Too many monsters now."
"Is that why you're surprised we're talking with you?" posed Cloud cagily.
"Not quite," he shook his balding head, gesturing towards the distant crest of the trail, the rugged terrain ablaze under a golden dawn. "I passed a guy in a black cloak back there yesterday. Fearsome-lookin' fella he was. Tall too."
"A man…in a black cloak…?" stammered Cloud, exchanging an apprehensive glance with his comrades. "So, he definitely came this way?"
"Sure as you're here right now. I was on that there ridge searchin' for crown mushrooms, when he showed up outta nowhere."
"Did he say anything to you?"
"I tried to tell him that it's dangerous up ahead," the rambler grumbled, "but he just ignored me! Damn fool! He's probably gonna get himself speared by a sahagin…or blown up by a firebomb."
"I doubt it," Cloud muttered.
"Maybe you're right," he conceded, spitting out a lump of chewing tobacco, "but, if any strangers should greet you warmly while travelin' on Mount Corel, be sure to greet 'em back. Them's the rules. I guess that's the fun of bein' on the road."
"We certainly will," beamed Aerith.
"Thanks for the advice," Cloud said flippantly, his desire to proceed screaming in his veins. "We'd best be moving on."
"Farewell, then," waved the old man, stooping again into his spot as the party shuffled one by one around him, following their leader's commands. "Be careful on your way."
Onwards the five climbed towards the summit of the Pass, the arduous slog gradually easing thanks to the natural stairs worn into the rock. Long stems of knotted weeds overran the plant roots all about them, while the mesquites had started to wither, and greater segments of parched soil were appearing. Burgundy-capped fungi sprouted sparsely among what little shaded and moist areas lingered on the increasingly arid slope, the unusual patterns on their stalks resembling gnashing teeth.
The Mount Corel track eventually turned south but continued to rise, leaving a sheer drop into a darkened crevasse on one side. Nothing stirred but the sound of their boots scraping over the grit and pebbles, the dull echo filtering down the crag. Driven by the confirmation that they were gaining on Sephiroth, Cloud was keen to maintain the group's hurried pace and, by the time they had reached the apex of the footpath, midday had come and gone.
There was almost no vegetation to brighten the dry stone at this altitude save for a lone tree, its ashen form so wilted and brittle that it seemed it would shatter if struck by a gale. However, this level of deterioration had not always existed, and the explanation had presented itself when the first hints of spectral jade-coloured smoke had emerged in the distance, slowly drifting towards a sky of scattered clouds and dissolving into the atmosphere.
"This…" Barret said grimly as the company paused upon the highest point of Simurgh's Pass to absorb the discouraging sight, "this is why everythin' went wrong…"
Shielding their eyes from the blinding sun, they each gazed upon the great chimney of the Mako Reactor. The facility was significantly different to those Cloud had witnessed during his years as an employee of Shinra, Inc., more contemporary in its structural design. Nestled in the space where Mount Corel and another prominent range met, far below the ridge, was a vast cylindrical crater approximately five-hundred feet in diameter that vanished deep beneath the earth, lined by huge walls of steel and sporadic scaffolding. From this manmade hollow emanated the ghostly pale green glow of the buried rivers, roaming the blinking spotlights on the rim.
At the heart of the crater rose the industrial furnace of the Reactor, establishing a pedestal for the silo at its pinnacle. Unlike the hulking monoliths of its predecessors, the towering head of the power plant was compact: streamlined and tall as the surrounding cliffs, its bland exterior decorated simply by the Corporation's diamond emblem and the number '27'. Mako gases poured from vents located around the circumference of its mid-body, while at its crown was an office block and glass-domed observation deck.
Workers and guards could be seen bustling like ants about the wide platform that topped the plinth - the entrance to the complex - adjacent to which sat the terminus of a dated steam train. A single railway line began south towards the desert, one of only a few ways to access the building, the others being the helipad at the perimeter of the northwest quadrant and the skeletal staircase suspended across the ravine to connect the facility with Simurgh's Pass.
"A Reactor in the mountains..." Aerith observed quietly, thinking aloud as she leaned on the white picket fence, troubled by the scene.
"Not the first," added Cloud, his mind wandering to the place above his hometown that still haunted his nightmares.
"This one would appear quite new, however," mused Red XIII, scrutinising the complex through the pale green haze.
"You're right," growled Barret. They all turned to look at him; it was the first thing he had said voluntarily in days. "Four years to be exact. But, we ain't got time for this. Move your asses."
With that, he stormed off down the trail, the others in pursuit and too startled to argue with his behaviour. Winding along the serrated cliffs, they descended at a precarious angle; the slightest misjudgement in their step and they would plummet from the path into the extensive canyon that separated them from the southern ranges: their destination. A handful of fissures in the rock marked informal openings to the former coalmine within the ancient hillside, now covered by cobwebs and gloom.
It took the group until late afternoon to reach the railway bridge that crossed the immense chasm, the route meeting the redbrick foundations of the tracks at the edge of the gorge. Barret hesitated as he approached the site; his brows were furrowed and his stare set on a particular spot not too far away. Cloud recognised the tell-tale signs on the weathered limestone where a volley of bullets had once ricocheted over its surface, and even a hint of stained blood, but said nothing.
Dusk was imminent as they passed below the railroad and doubled back to climb the concrete stairs that led to the accompanying civilian walkway, its fiery orange hue casting long shadows across the world. Ensuring they had gone unnoticed by the patrolling sentries of the nearby Mako Reactor, the five advanced along the viaduct, the rusting iron crosspieces of the aged construct groaning underfoot.
The panorama of the looming sierras was magnificent from such an elevated position, granting the tired travellers respite from their aching muscles, and Cloud was reminded that the Nibel region lay to the west of the russet peaks. Mount Corel still dominated the skyline behind them, more massive and proud and scarred than they had supposed while treading its unkind gradients.
The broadening gorge offered an unspoiled view of the goliath, the parched riverbed several hundred feet beneath the bridge the only interruption on what seemed like a bottomless void. An exploratory offshoot of the Bagnadrana, the waters of the Hoplite Canal trickled over the lazy boulders and even a derelict jetty of rubber tyres, disappearing down the valley to invigorate what scarce forested areas grew just beyond the deathly clutches of the desert.
Arriving on the opposite side of the viaduct, Barret insisted that the party take advantage of an old cave he knew of close to the switch shed, and there came no dispute. The grotto was hidden from the railway, accessible only by scrambling down a narrow ledge, but large enough to house them all with plenty of room to spare. Abandoned mining tools and explosives cluttered one corner, and strange six-legged, horn-nosed lizards clung to the ceiling, but it was comfortable nonetheless.
When they vacated their dwellings early the next morning, a low mist hung upon the vale, shrouding the canal and breaching their clothing with chilled air, though soothing on Aerith's sunburnt skin. A flock of gulls were perched a stone's throw away, shrieking as they tore at scraps of food from one another, disturbing the otherwise peaceful ambience of the wilderness. Glancing north, the group could still see the Mako fumes belching from the Shinra facility, and were keen to continue their journey.
From the bridge, the tracks sloped gradually downwards, circling cliff faces that had been reinforced with concrete slabs to prevent landslides. Emerging from the fog, the company found the temperature a shade warmer, but unpleasantly humid and stifling to breathe in. They encountered more and more junctions on the line as the day wore on, leaving Cloud to deduce that the network ventured to other parts of the subterranean Mount Corel Mine system or even a former refinery, for Barret made no comment on them. As with most of the week, their gun-armed companion walked alone, his mood teetering on the brink of eruption at all times.
They came at last to a suspension bridge linking two uneven sections of the miners' mountain railway, though this flyover spanned a much shallower gulf. The lower terrain was a rough glen of patched grass, enriched by a meagre selection of mesquite clusters and outdated pathways that skulked along the dried riverbed, its colour dwindling as it crept into the dominion of Corel Desert. Slowing to drink in the landscape of a barren and unforgiving wilderness that faded into the horizon, confined on all sides by a sinking barrier of churning quicksand, the party were brought to an abrupt halt as, at its centre, was something they did not expect to see.
The colossal golden tree rose from the heart of the desert a number of miles away like an extravagant illusion, soaring more than one-thousand feet into the heavens. The isolated structure was purely artificial, concentrated around a slim conical trunk plated by gilded steel, and deliberately crooked in shape with a winged male effigy at its height. It bore eight robust branches that extended in various directions, each cradling a domed floodlit nest, the largest of which protruded from approximately one-third up its main body. This overshadowed some of the community at the foundations of the fantastical erection, a tiny rural township that lay between it and a slithering crevasse.
"What is that?" gasped Aerith, excitement spreading across her features.
"That," Barret answered with a sigh, his gaze saddened, "is the Gold Saucer."
"The amusement park?" spluttered Tifa. "Isn't it quite new?"
"I was unaware that they had opened," Red XIII stated with intrigue, trotting towards the verge. "Though, I imagine few of those imprisoned in the laboratories of the Shinra Science Department would be."
"Can we go, Cloud?" Aerith clapped eagerly. "Please? Can we?"
"I think we could all use a break," agreed Tifa.
"We don't have time to be messing around!" Cloud dismissed immediately.
"But, it's my birthday soon," begged Aerith, tugging at his arm. "Don't be a meanie!"
"Seems we'll have to go there anyway," grunted Barret, motioning to a distant blue object gliding below the thin clouds. Straining his Mako-enhanced eyes, the ex-SOLDIER quickly realised that it was a gondola, zipping along a ropeway bound for one of the Gold Saucer's higher limbs. "Ain't no faster way to cross the desert from here than the Skytrain."
"Sephiroth will probably know that," Cloud deliberated aloud, his face stern as he contemplated their next action. Exhaling with frustration, he shook his head at the girls in defeat. "Alright you two, looks like you'll get your wish after all."
"Then, c'mon," squealed Aerith, bouncing gaily along the line, her enthusiasm wavering slightly as she took her first step onto the bridge. "Hopefully the ride there isn't as scary as these overpasses."
"You're in more danger bein' with me, lass…" Barret mumbled to himself as he reluctantly started after her, low enough that only Cloud and Red XIII heard.
The silence was deafening for the remainder of the day's hike, Barret's broodiness dictating the entire spirit of his already-drained comrades, though he fiercely asserted his right to solitude despite Aerith's occasional attempts to coax his thoughts from him. The constant decline of the southerly rail tracks eventually lessened as they approached the Skytrain terminus, levelling to an almost horizontal angle and improving the journey considerably.
Following Barret's instructions, the group turned west at an intersection onto what appeared to be a neglected stretch of railroad, leading through a slender scree-filled gulch naturally formed between a pair of raised mounds. The beams themselves were buckled or even disjointed in parts, tainted with rust and long since utilised. After a while, the rocky passage bottlenecked, and they could see a number of shapes at its end. A stained banner was draped above the line, tied on either side to the wasting grey trees that gripped the ledges with desperation. As they grew closer, they could make out the dusty discoloured lettering to read 'North Corel', and at once the reason for Barret's attitude became clear.
Beyond the banner was a makeshift settlement, as destitute and ramshackle as the worst districts of the Midgar Slums. An unkempt village of haggard tents and corroding vehicles had been established across the tracks, pinned to the arid ground by chunks of local rock, the frayed material of the temporary homes moaning in the wispy breeze. Afternoon sunlight flooded across the rugged hillside overhead, its heat crisp as it fell upon the jaded bivouacs, allowing a brief glimpse of the ropeway that projected from the opposite entrance of the eerie encampment.
A gravel path snaked among the hamlet of North Corel, littered with greasy oil drums and discarded machine parts, scrap metal ladders and ramps offering access to the elevated sections. On the outcrop above the line, there stood a collection of crumbling redbrick and concrete buildings, the largest of which had been a signal station - now converted into an inhospitable-looking tavern - while the roof of another had collapsed at one corner.
Dust swept about their ankles as the five cautiously advanced; the abhorrence and bitterness in the air was almost palpable. An elderly man clad in grimy dungarees swayed gently on a rocking chair at the doorway of the first of the tents, smoking tobacco from a smouldering antique pipe, not registering their presence as he muttered something about the coal train schedule. He was accompanied simply by forlorn shadows that fluttered on the crunching grit, though hushed chatter and aromatic cooking drifted from inside some of the homes. Glancing up, Cloud noticed another villager on a ridge no more than twenty feet above the main thoroughfare, bent over a well as he mended the crane for its winch with a spanner. He peered over his shoulder as they neared, his casual mien instantly transforming to apprehension as he spotted Barret.
"You…you're…" the mechanic stammered, clambering to his feet and staggering backwards. He spun, sprinting towards the tavern, shouting repeatedly at the top of his voice. "Hey! He's back! He's back!"
"What on Gaia…?" scoffed Red XIII, a tone of surprise in his hoarse but articulate voice. Barret turned to the others, his eyes swollen with despair, and held out his hand for them to stop while he proceeded alone.
"Wait here," he said softly.
Taking a few moments to compose himself, his breathing weighted with indecision, he trudged further along the road to where the outcrop banked. The young mechanic soon reappeared from the inn, tailed by a trio of bulkier men and a scrawny dog, their grizzly features hardened and as furious as thunder. Marching down the inclined dirt path without a word, they drew to a halt before Barret, loathing etched on their menacing posture. Curious onlookers had gathered in the portals of the surrounding bivouacs, women and children alike, observing with interest.
Though he was outrageously tall and visibly stronger than any of them, not to mention the fearsome chain-gun attached to his muscular right arm, Cloud watched his comrade grow intimidated. After almost a full minute of muted tension, one of the men stepped forward, glaring stubbornly at his adversary. He had a burly physique, with a white vest taut over his bulging gut, and a brown afro and goatee. Suddenly, he lashed out, punching Barret with all his might, reaching and catching him painfully on the cheekbone. The timid response of the dark-skinned giant was to lower his head ashamedly.
"Never figured I'd see your face again," the man snarled through gritted teeth as he returned to his cohorts, caressing his knuckles. "Them folks over there, they wi' you?"
"Yeah…" Barret nodded, but did not meet his gaze.
"Well, I feel sorry for 'em," spat a second, his royal blue engineer's cap lopsided, "hangin' 'round a walkin' death sentence like you."
"Hey!" snapped Tifa, grudgingly biting her tongue as Barret shushed her with a sharp frown.
"What happened?" the burly leader snorted derisively. "Y'all get kicked outta another town, too? Seems everythin' you touch gets destroyed."
"Spencer, I-"
"You got a lotta balls comin' back here!" he barked, unable to subdue his wrath any longer. "Look at this place! A bunch o' vagrants hidden away in the mountains…this is all that's left of our home. The only way we can make ends meet is by collectin' junk and sellin' it to tourists on their way to the Gold Saucer. It's your fault Corel wound up as this garbage heap! Why don't you say somethin'? Or did y'already forget what you did?"
"I…I'm sorry-"
"'Sorry'?" Spencer roared with unrestrained venom, his huge fists clenched. "That all you got to say for yourself? Shit, you ain't even worth the effort. C'mon, boys, don't waste your time talkin' to this techno-freak…"
The villagers gave him one final disgusted scowl, the mechanic gobbing in his direction, and retreated back up the trail to the tavern, muttering and cursing among themselves. Barret lingered for a time, deflated and unmoving, staring blankly at the outcrop, his shoulders slumped and bearded jaw quivering. Slowly, as the prying residents slunk one by one back into their houses, he was joined by his friends. It was Aerith who spoke first, stroking his arm in an effort to comfort him from the anguish of his past.
"Are you okay?" she asked tenderly.
"I'll be fine…"
"How could those men say such things?" she whimpered. "Why would they?"
"You heard 'em…" Barret answered quietly, "it's my fault Corel was…destroyed…"
"But, it's not true…is it?"
"Let's just get outta here," he said sternly, shifting his attention from Aerith. "The ropeway station can't be far."
Not waiting for their reaction, he strode with determination along the tracks, kicking over an empty oil drum which clattered noisily on the stone floor. The group followed close behind, conscious of the glowering stares and potential threat of violence, though the sight of the Buster Sword was sure to ward off any attack.
Winding between piles of scrap and debris, they tread in single file until the gorge gradually widened, bringing them to a junction where the railway line had all but fragmented. To the west was a declining road, the tarmac sandy and broken but nevertheless an exit from the Corel Mountains that looped down to the Vargid Plains which encircled the southern desert. It was here that North Corel's merchants plied their trade, haggling tirelessly at the improvised stalls huddled around the entrance to the Skytrain terminus. The weary and ragged store owners called fervently to them as they approached, touting wares from anything like potions and vintage rifles to unlicensed Gold Saucer merchandise.
Beyond was the station itself, a broad concrete platform secured by tall iron fencing and billboards advertising forthcoming events at the theme park such as the so-called 'Enchantment Evening' and an independent theatre production of the classic play Loveless. From the lofty promontory upon which it sat, the terminal overlooked the vast wastelands of the Corel Desert, and the great golden tree on the horizon, the backdrop blurred by intense heat waves.
A lone gondola rested against the buffers on the opposite side of the platform, large in size and shaped like a regular locomotive carriage, but with the addition of two enormous propellers on its roof, and coupled to the twin tension cables that hung above. The azure shell of the Skytrain glistened in the late afternoon sun, the rows of windows reflecting its brilliant glare. Both propeller engines hummed faintly on standby, causing the blades to twitch and rotate idly, emitting a slight odour of burning Mako fumes. Climbing the steps to the station, the party was greeted by a young female attendant from behind the partition of the ticket kiosk.
"Hello, and welcome to the Gold Saucer Ropeway Shuttle," she declared cheerfully. "Four of you today? And your pet? We allow animals to travel, but responsibility for him lies with the customer. Do you consent?"
"Uh…yeah," hesitated Cloud, sharing an awkward glance with Red XIII.
"Excellent," beamed the girl, counting and tearing four tickets from her roll, passing them through the slot in the glass. "Travel on the Skytrain is free of charge, but there is an admission fee for the park. I trust you have come prepared?"
"Of course."
"Then, I hope you have fun and fortune at the Gold Saucer. The shuttle will be leaving soon, so if you'd like to ride it, please hurry and board."
"Sure," muttered Cloud, pausing as the others started towards the gondola. "Hey, have you seen anyone in a black cloak come this way?"
"As a matter of fact," she replied warily, suspicious of the question, "there was a boy wearing a hooded cape here this morning."
"A boy?"
"Well, I didn't really get a good look at his face," she clarified, recollecting the occurrence, "but I did notice he had a tattoo on the back of his hand: the number '1'. It was pretty cool. I hear tattoos are a big fad in the cities nowadays."
"I wouldn't know," Cloud said indifferently. "Was there anything else?"
"Hmm," the attendant pondered. "He was mumbling something about Materia."
"Materia?" he gasped, a cold shiver cascading down his spine.
"I'm sorry," shrugged the girl, "but there's nothing else to tell you."
"Thanks anyway."
This doesn't make any sense…was it even Sephiroth…?
Crossing the platform, Cloud's mind was a daze, the information doing little to confirm whether or not they were headed in the right direction. The doors of the carriage slid automatically apart as he trotted up the gangway, revealing a stylish pinewood interior flooded by daylight and chilled air-conditioning. His comrades had already taken their place in a booth of cushioned seats, stuffing their backpacks into the storage space below. Despite the plentiful room throughout the cabin, it was otherwise unoccupied. Once settled, there came a thick male voice over the loudspeaker in the corner.
"The Gold Saucer shuttle service will be departing shortly," it announced. "Please ensure all luggage is stowed in a safe and designated compartment for the duration of the flight, and that children are securely fastened in their seatbelts. Thank you for travelling with us on the Gold Saucer Ropeway, and we wish you a very pleasant flight."
Cloud felt his eyelids grow heavy as he let his head fall against the window, the warmth of the sun's rays beating on his skin. Around him, he could hear the others slotting their belt straps into the buckles, and Red XIII pacing the aisle as he searched for a cosy spot to lie down. There was a sudden bing as the bulb atop the doorway changed from green to red, and with a jolt, the propellers above them whirred to life.
He watched the ground outside slide away as the Skytrain lurched and rapidly began to gain speed. The landing tracks arched upwards, protruding from the cliff to form a ramp in mid-air and, with a great surge of power from the Mako engines, the gondola took off over the desert. As they ascended, the station platform seemed to blend quickly with the dark rock of the mountainside and, when Cloud blinked hard to wake himself from his drowsy state, the forsaken shantytown of North Corel had vanished completely from view.
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