Once Cloud was lucid and in charge of the group's efforts to stop Sephiroth again, there was no denying that Barret's train metaphors were accurate. Reeve was on a speeding train with these renegades, and either they stayed on the tracks until a successful end or they would careen off the rails together—and the consequences would not be pretty.

Reeve was living so many lives by this point it was impossible to juggle them all. He had crashed in his office plenty of times during his career, but he had tried not to make it a habit—fooling himself into thinking he still had time of his own that Shinra wasn't stealing. Now he passed out on his office's couch nightly. Keeping his attention with the renegades as often as possible meant cramming the majority of his actual employment's responsibilities at every other waking moment. Preventing projects and concerns from piling up was the only way he could possibly keep his cover as a loyal Shinra Director going.

Reeve attended executive meetings in person, absolutely everything else was done from his desk remotely or delegated. However, Reeve was quickly running out of loyal subordinates to delegate to. Huge numbers of Shinra employees made every effort to get out of Midgar—not so much as abandoning responsibilities outright, but suddenly and miraculously finding that more and more their duties were able to be done by email alone…or dumping them on those lower in the hierarchy who had no option to refuse. The staff hemorrhaging ceased once Rufus made the order that all Shinra employees stationed at headquarters were required to remain in Midgar until further notice. All scheduled vacations were canceled, and even sick days were being denied in every department.

The strain on HR and company-wide morale in Midgar was just another problem that slid across Reeve's desk, but he couldn't begrudge the staff their growing hopelessness. After all, as the days passed into two weeks, the violently acid-purple tinge to the sky over the city was unavoidable. Reeve would awake from nightmare-filled dreams to find the real nightmare still hanging over the Shinra tower and growing closer.

Reeve also had to allow that the populace's despair was exponentially greater than any Shinra grievances. Each request Reeve made for manpower met with rejection, so efforts to ensure infrastructure could handle the demand for exit out of Midgar were futile. The citizenry on both the plates and in the undercity were trapped. Protests erupted daily, and the threat of riot loomed. Reeve was running out of solutions that felt like anything other than bandages on bullet wounds, and Heidegger's only contribution was a tighter and tighter grip on the populace. Curfews, patrols in every corner of the city, and the heel of Shinra's boot pressing harder on an already desperate city. None on the board saw where such tactics were inevitably leading, or maybe Scarlet and Heidegger welcomed the chance for all-out warfare on civilians. Never once had either shown restraint in the matter before.

Just over two weeks ago Reeve had admired Rufus' unwavering strength against the Weapons. In the span of those eighteen days Rufus repeatedly proved that admiration had been misplaced. Rufus callously crushed the hopes of the populace under his feet and did nothing to reign in his bloodthirsty immediate subordinates. Reeve had no respect left, just a resentful desire that Cloud and his companions would thwart every last effort that Rufus made. Stolen airships, submarines, and Huge Materia, the many military casualties, and a failed missile mission—Reeve couldn't deny the twisted pleasure he took in watching the executive board's plans fall apart at every turn.

And especially how Reeve's information and remote participation was directly responsible for Rufus' numerous failures.

This day Reeve sat at his desk over a cup of coffee, rubbing his forehead as he briefly turned his attention away from emails and back to Cait Sith's point of view. The Highwind was still parked beside the Forgotten City. The rebels had escorted the scholar Bugenhagen to help determine what secrets the Ancients once held that would stop Meteor. Mechanical din and engine roars rang in his ears and it took a few moments for Reeve to remember the Highwind wasn't currently running.

In annoyance, Reeve spun his chair to face the window, and slowly his eyes grew wider in shock. Easing out of his chair, he dumbly soaked in the sight of a full Shinra force descending on Midgar: cargo planes air-lifting massive rings, mechs, trucks, and troops escorting scaffolding, mako siphons, and the recognizable components of the Junon cannon. Slowly shaking his head in disbelief, Reeve rubbed his face and ran his hands through his hair.

Junon's cannon was being moved to Midgar? That's why it had been dismantled? Rufus had personally shot down Reeve's infrastructure requests but there were magically enough resources to move Junon's cannon in its entirety?!

Stunned bewilderment and seething rage battling in his gut, Reeve snatched his suit coat off the back of his chair and threw it on. He burst through the doors of his office, startling his poor, beleaguered assistant as he stormed out. He had no explanations to offer her, if he allowed himself to speak at that moment it was not likely to be in anything other than incoherent screaming.

The elevator ride to the President's office allowed Reeve time to at least put on some veneer of civility. Nearly twenty years of practice had made him a master at swallowing down disgust in front of his superiors and peers. Reeve walked into Rufus's office, finding Scarlet and Heidegger bragging about their joint feat of engineering to the President. It was currently an orchestra of grandiose self-aggrandizement and dueling grating laughter.

Rufus noted Reeve's arrival, pushing aside his bangs from his forehead. "Good. I didn't have to call you in, Reeve."

As he approached the polished, imposing desk, Reeve mustered the last bits of composure necessary to address the President calmly. "Mr. President, why wasn't I informed of the mako cannon's relocation to Midgar?"

Heidegger grinned largely, stroking his beard. "You haven't figured out by now you're not necessary for most plans?"

Rufus idly waved off Heidegger, silencing him. "The movement of the canon was not your concern. The installment of it is."

Uneasily, Reeve cleared his throat. Now that his head was steady enough to think logically, the only benefit to moving the cannon to Midgar pieced together in his mind instantly. "Mr. President, I cannot stress enough how dangerous it will be to force all mako production into this cannon. There are so many ways using Midgar's power as ammunition for this monstrosity can go wrong."

Scarlet's eyes thinned combatively and she stepped up to him. "My cannon was made to convert unfathomable mako input. It is flawless. Why do you think your city can't handle it?"

Reeve gawked at her. "My cit—? Scarlet, this is not some ludicrous contest of pride. It's a matter of simple mechanics. This city was made to refine and distribute mako and to power itself. Never has it had the power grid to support a weapon of that size."

"I do not like repeating myself, Reeve," Rufus snapped. "It is your job to install it. I do not care what laws of physics you have to break to make it happen, the three of you will make it happen and have this cannon ready to fire as soon as possible."

"Of course, Mr. President!" Heidegger immediately affirmed, hooking his wide fingers under his lapels. "Every bit of manpower Shinra has will be here to expedite the process."

"I will certainly do my best, though it would be much simpler without dragging dead weight," Scarlet said, adding a sneer to Reeve.

Reeve tightened his lips, nodding once. "…Not to suggest I am refusing a direct order, Mr. President…but I do ask you to consider that even in a best-case scenario the entire city will go dark—possibly for long periods of time. Essential services on the plate have backup, alternate power, but the undercity does not. You will potentially be leaving thousands without power for even their medical facilities, with no guarantee of when it will come back."

Heidegger grinned. "Perhaps the refuse shouldn't have settled for the slums, Tuesti."

Reeve's fist clenched unconsciously.

Rufus firmly stood from his seat, his face in a hard scowl. "Spare me the tears of the populace, Reeve. The lives of every man, woman, and child on this planet are in our hands, and it is our responsibility to save this world. And I do not care if a single person in Midgar, and especially the slums, is grateful for it." He moved from around his desk up to Scarlet and Reeve, staring them both down. "The two of you will get this cannon operational immediately, and you absolutely don't have to like each other to do it. We will fire on the Northern Crater, and there will be nothing left of Sephiroth to threaten this planet. We will. Obliterate. Sephiroth."

Scarlet's smug bravado drained and she awkwardly glanced away from his gaze. "Of course, Mr. President."

Reeve swallowed hard. "Of course, Mr. President."

Having to work side by side with Scarlet meant having barely a moment to himself to breathe, much less to check in with those on the Highwind. Reeve had never had the opportunity to work directly with her, their departments never had the necessity of overlap. When devoting herself to a task, Scarlet focused with laser precision and the relentlessness of any of her weapons of war. To Reeve's shock, she even moderated both her passive and outright aggression while engrossed in projects. She was as brilliant as she was brutal, and it took all of Reeve's energy to keep pace. He had already been running on empty, a heightened lack of sleep did Reeve no favors.

The two walked down one of the catwalks, around them a cacophony of construction. Scarlet unrepentantly violated every safety regulation for a job site, her stilettos stabbing into the metal walkways, and bereft of a hard hat to prioritize her pristine coiffure. Her blue eyes monitored the mechanics, construction workers, and temporarily-reassigned military rank and file at work attaching the cannon's massive cabling. "I must admit, Reeve," she said calmly. "I'm impressed your department pulled through."

Adjusting his hard hat, Reeve allowed himself a satisfied smile. No matter how repugnant the project, it was hard not to feel pride at how competently and swiftly it had come together in less than three days. "They can tell how important this is. This may be our best shot at saving the world."

Scarlet nodded, then frowned. "My teams have something to learn from yours. It's been pulling teeth with these cretins."

The teams honestly had little to learn from each other as far as morale, and the likelihood that Scarlet would deduce where the real issue layed was nil. Reeve changed the subject with, "There's still a few things to get done before a test of the mako diversion is ready."

"If it's about the inhibitors, don't bother," she scoffed with a wave of her hand. "I had them dismantled, the charge capacity simply isn't able to reach any kind of timely efficiency with them in place."

Reeve stopped directly in her way, staring into her eyes with brand sparkling new revulsion. "Are you insane?" he hissed.

"This cannon has to fire twice," she seethed back, holding up her fingers. "Twice. That is as far as it needs to function at full capacity. Once we all are sipping cocktails over our victory, then we can focus on restructuring the safety systems permanently."

"The measures wouldn't have added that much time onto the schedule," Reeve pressed, now completely derailed from any issues he was going to address prior. "And by our count the load time was s—"

"It would have added a week, and no, a cooling time of six hours was not acceptable."

"It's a stationary target!"

Stepping up to Reeve's face, Scarlet's eyes flashed furiously. "And every second in between the first and second shots is time Sephiroth has to retaliate."

In frustration, Reeve slapped the folder in his hand against the catwalk railing, not noticing he had slipped into his Highland accent: "He's a torso in a rock, ya tube!"

Scarlet's fury evaporated instantly and she blinked at him in shock. She opened her mouth to speak, then her expression altered to amusement. She propped a hand on her hip and laughed loudly, placing her fingers near her chin. "Oh, yes. You were there. How could I forget about your silly, little cat friend so easily? Every time I begin to take you seriously, you remind me you're a grown man who plays with stuffies." Turning away fully, she threw her head back. "No wonder a sentimental fool like you isn't married—who could you possibly bring in your bedroom that wouldn't run the second they see how many you must have on the bed?" A new thought reached her and her eyes lit up in delight. "Oh! Oh, and how miserable you must have been for your poor, little kitty to get blown to itty-bitties!"

As contemptuous fits continued to shake Scarlet's shoulders, Reeve glowered at her. His mind cycled through the various spells that Cait Sith had mastered by this point that would have been thrilling to watch inflicted on her. Bahamut would be pleased to meet her. Well, that wasn't an equivalent response—maybe just ask Yuffie to get Leviathan to shove her around a bit. Not in any permanently-damaging way—no, just a few moist tail slaps every time Scarlet tried to pick herself up.

Reeve then noted another figure idly strolling further down the catwalk and his brow knitted. "You didn't call Hojo, did you?"

Her mockery finally dried, fanning herself with her hand and letting out heavy breaths to regain composure. Scarlet threw a glance to where the Professor walked, his hands folded behind his back as he swept his eyes over the site. "I most certainly did not," she murmured. "I take it you didn't?"

"He doesn't lend any kind of expertise to the project, no."

Her lips thinning into a line, Scarlet stepped up to Hojo firmly. "Professor."

"Chairwoman," Hojo replied dully, his eyes still drifting over the cannon components (and he also was without a hard hat. Why did fate mock Reeve like this when the obvious was right there?). "Tell me, how close is the cannon to operational?"

"By the end of the evening, not that it's relevant to you," Scarlet said with a smirk.

"It's not ready without rerouting measures," Reeve grumbled to her with a frown.

She smiled at him, acid dripping from every curve. "It's ready."

"It's not."

Scarlet placed a finger on Reeve's lips, making him flinch from her. "It's ready."

His eyes shifting between the two of them, Hojo arched a sharp eyebrow. "Hm. Then you've kept in mind the simulations that suggest a direct hit on the exposed crater will have no effect?"

Reeve and Scarlet glanced at each other, and Reeve rubbed his beard. "Which one is this? The last I checked that wasn't the case."

Chuckling, Hojo propped an elbow in his palm and gestured casually. "That's interesting. I've been ordered to send any reports directly to the President—and only the President. It must be coincidence if the two of you are missing anything."

While Reeve considered this and his face grew hard in concern, Scarlet immediately lashed back. "I've been kept abreast of every one of the President's plans," she snapped. "You, on the other hand, have been delegated to doing as little as possible, Professor. Don't get it in your sick, twisted, little mind that you have some clout that I don't."

His eyebrows raised in mock offense, Hojo's eyes met with hers only a moment before they glanced back up at the massive mako tubing. "Oh. Clout? Is it a matter of clout?" he mused, rubbing his chin.

No, nothing was ever a matter of clout with Hojo. Scarlet should have known better by now. There was something Hojo expected to happen that no one else had picked up on, and, as usual, didn't plan to let anyone else in on his theories until too late. Reeve's lack of sleep had to be the main reason he had never considered the consequences of the second shot—or maybe just how invested Reeve had become in the project's success. While Scarlet continued to ensure a completely unimpressed Hojo about her standing as the President's right hand, Reeve studied Hojo and followed as they meandered down the catwalks.

Why would a direct hit with no barrier potentially not work? There was no denying that Sephiroth had tied himself to the Northern Crater and its perpetually cycling pulse of the Lifestream…

Wait. He hadn't. Sephiroth was no longer just physical…he traveled wherever the Lifestream did.

Reeve cut both of them off mid-sentence: "Are you suggesting a second shell would only feed the Lifestream? Not destroy the crater?"

Hojo paused and a grin tugged at his lips. "Hm? A mechanical engineer you may be, but you're almost clever, Tuesti."

"Of course the crater would be destroyed," Scarlet scoffed, sneering at them both. "The laws of physics still apply to land masses."

His grin widening briefly, Hojo shrugged. "You're right, of course." He turned away and wandered off, slipping his hands into his lab coat pockets. "It would be impossible for a powerful enough shot to not wipe the Northern Crater off the map."

But could it possibly destroy a target existing half-way in the Lifestream?

Taking off his hardhat momentarily to slick his hair back, Reeve took a deep breath and let it out uneasily. "There might be something to that, Scarlet."

She rolled her eyes. "Is there any time that you can't find an excuse to cower?"

Both of their phones let out notification chimes, and they glanced at each other. Straightening, Scarlet walked purposefully toward the stairs leading to the Shinra building interior. "The President will have less patience for your stalling."

Side by side, Reeve and Scarlet made the trek to the President's office in silence. During the ascent in the elevator, Reeve tapped the hard hat against his knuckles, deep in thought. He wanted something as easy as a cannon blast to work. He couldn't lie to himself about it. Or maybe he just wanted Shinra to succeed in this one thing, feel like an effort Reeve was a part of had helped others unequivocally. Or that at least some part of an eighteen-year career wasn't bloodstained.

Finally, Scarlet and Reeve arrived in the office to find Rufus and Heidegger already awaiting them.

"I got the word from my officers," Heidegger announced as they approached. "Excellent work on the relocation."

Reeve began, "There are still some minor adjustments I would recommend before a test is done."

From his chair, Rufus frowned. "No tests have been done already?"

Reeve shook his head. "The last of the construction is still wrapping up."

"What 'adjustments' are you hoping to spend time on?" Rufus asked, clear impatience in his words.

Smiling forcefully, Scarlet meaningfully rested the point of one heel into the top of Reeve's shoe. "The cannon is ready. Any adjustments can be made once Sephiroth is destroyed and the cannon is a permanent fixture in Midgar. By tonight it will be ready to fire."

Gritting his teeth, Reeve's eyes dug into Scarlet. "Inhibitors to prevent possible overload would—"

Rufus interrupted, "Scarlet. Will the cannon fire without them?"

"Of course," she assured him, the gentle lean of her heel now a painful grind. She then let off her weight. "The only way we could have been under deadline was to accept that greater firepower would mean less margin for error."

Rufus considered this. "Is the risk for overload great?"

With a light sigh, Reeve replied honestly, "With the controls being manual, no."

"Director Tuesti himself has full control of the input and output from all of the reactors," Scarlet added. "There are also emergency controls on the cannon itself that a team will be monitoring through the entire process."

Rufus allowed a grin. "Then I fail to see a problem."

As Scarlet stepped forward to explain the intricacies of the conversion of Midgar's power into a concentrated blast, Reeve kicked himself internally. Even pretending that a project like this could have gone forward without the potential of Midgar's citizenry getting shoved directly in harm's way was dangerously naive. He had to warn Cloud and the others of how quickly this was happening, and it couldn't wait until Reeve had the chance to get privacy.

Connecting with Cait Sith directly in front of Rufus was an extremely dangerous proposition. Rufus would know what Reeve was doing if he noticed. But while Scarlet and Heidegger were patting themselves on the back there was a chance…

Reeve folded his arms to appear as attentive to the current conversation as possible. He then adjusted his view to Cait Sith, finding him currently staring at a wall in an empty corner of the Highwind's middle deck. Reeve had a very bad feeling about finding Cait in this position. On top of everything else he had to worry about, a possibly buggy Cait Sith was not something Reeve had time for.

Reeve commanded Cait to contact Cloud's phone directly, but Cait only scratched behind his ear. In growing frustration Reeve repeatedly pushed Cait to follow his orders, internally grumbling to himself about his luck. He didn't notice Cloud had already answered until Reeve heard him say, "…What? What are you saying?"

Struggling to not show any outward change on his face, Reeve collected himself. Cait said, "Sorry, Aye was just surprised…"

Concerned, Cloud asked, "Why? What happened?"

"D'ye remember when the Junon cannon disappeared? It wasn't dismantled, Rufus had it moved."

Cloud paused. "Moved it? That giant thing? Where? …Why?"

"Rufus thinks he can destroy Sephiroth with it," Cait replied. "The cannon operates on Huge Materia, but Shinra's runnin' a bit low on those since tryin' to shoot 'em to space. Since the cannon won't work without 'em, he ordered it moved to where enough mako could be gathered to replace ammunition entirely."

Another pause. "…And where's that?"

"There's only one place that can gather mako in comparative amounts at once," Reeve informed Cloud. "Midgar."

The phone in Reeve's pocket rang and he flinched in surprise. He pulled it out to see a call from the project manager. "Pardon me," he said to Rufus and the other chairpeople. Clearing his throat, he turned away from them and answered the phone. After a short exchange with the site manager, Reeve swallowed and nodded. "Thank you for your hard work," he said in the most supportive tone he could muster. "Well done." Hanging up, he turned back.

Heidegger smiled hungrily. "Then it's ready?"

Reeve nodded, outwardly neutral. "After a short systems test, it will be ready to fire."

"When possible, congratulate your teams on my behalf," Rufus offered to the three of them. "And begin preparations immediately."

Reeve could see the renegades attempting to make sense of what was happening in Midgar in the periphery of his vision, but couldn't yet offer them explanation beyond what Cait Sith could describe independently. All of this was escalating so quickly…he needed some kind of cover…"I should head back to the site for the tests," Reeve said firmly.

"No," Rufus said. "Your teams are more than capable enough to finish this. I want us to be ready to begin the instant we're given word. It's your job to adjust the reactor output. I want you here."

Despite his anxiety, Reeve nodded. "…I see. Of course, Mr. President."

An eager energy in her posture, Scarlet grinned darkly. "Don't worry yourself too much over the details, Reeve. The instant the mako lines are diverted the system will go full speed!" She punctuated this with a sharp stab of her finger toward the north-facing windows.

Heidegger roared with laughter, his barrel chest shaking. "Mr. President, you've done it this time—a stroke of genius. With nothing left of Sephiroth, Meteor will be finished."

Throwing a glare at Heidegger, Scarlet added, "Let's not forget it was my idea to use mako directly in lieu of shells in the first place."

Tapping a finger on his jaw, Rufus asked, "And you're sure the beam will reach the Northern Crater?"

After a sharp laugh, Scarlet waved aside his concerns. "Of course! We've made every allowance for distance and the curvature of Gaia's surface. If anything, Mr. President, what we have truly done is redefine the limits of modern warfare. A completely mako-fueled blast can reach distances impossible with conventional shells." Strolling to the main windows, her hips swaying with each measured step, she turned with a sweep of an arm and faced the room. "But, Mr. President, don't simply call this feat of engineering a mere 'mako cannon.' Her full name is the Sister Ray!"

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