Disclaimer: The Final Fantasy VII Compilation belongs rightfully to Square-Enix. This amateur effort at fan-based fiction is in no way making profit off of the licensed characters described therein, nor is it associating any new original characters to Square-Enix either.
Chapter Three
General Sephiroth:
You asked me to keep you up to date on the Banora investigation. A handful of Turks have been planted in the village, disguised as tourists coming to visit the dumbapple factory. They'll be keeping an eye on Genesis' parents, as well as Angeal's mother. Gillian Hewley has remained in her residence these past two days. Locals have informed us that she has fallen ill lately. The Rhapsodos' claim they haven't seen nor heard from their son since he defected.
We'll keep you posted.
- Tseng
The whirring of the helicopter blades pounded in Sephiroth's ears. He could just barely discern the soft click of his mobile as he snapped it closed, Tseng's text message disappearing into the handheld's brain. The infantrymen seated across from him were silent, one of them fiddling with the ammunition stored in his vest. Their helmets guarded their facial expressions from Sephiroth, but the fidgeting of the younger one suggested something along the lines of, 'I hope I didn't forget my…' Sephiroth couldn't tell what, 'that would be so embarrassing… my first mission with the Great Sephiroth.'
So he stared at the window, down at the long stretch of dark green, indicating the jungles south of Cosmo Canyon. Sephiroth felt the helicopter tilt slightly to the right, pulling him against the window some more. The altitude of the jungle grew steadily higher as they progressed, and the trees denser, almost making the forests seem black instead of the vibrant green.
Sephiroth thought about Gillian, Angeal's mother. He hadn't seen in her years, but she occasionally wrote to him. SOLDIER's hero wasn't fond of many people, but if anyone were to ask him, he supposed one of his answers would be Gillian Hewley, the kindly mother of his best friend. When he first met her, Gillian hadn't regarded Sephiroth with the awe and nervousness of the ordinary people that met him for the first time. Angeal had just achieved First Class status, and Sephiroth volunteered to accompany him to personally bring Gillian the news. Gillian made them lunch, and insisted that Sephiroth needed to eat more. She wouldn't let him leave the table until he finished a second serving. He'd never encountered such audacity from anyone, and for some reason, it hadn't bothered him. Was that what it was like to have a mother? Sephiroth often wondered that when he saw her.
His only memory of Jenova was of a pale trembling hand reaching out towards him before falling, and a glimpse of a beautiful woman's face pleading. Hair drenched with sweat matted to the sides of her face, Jenova screamed something – Sephiroth couldn't remember what. Her hair was brown, sometimes black, and sometimes even Sephiroth's silver. Her eyes… ordinary brown or Sephiroth's green? Whenever the details changed, Sephiroth questioned the authenticity of the recollection. He could boast near photographic memory, but as a newly born infant, he was simply too young to remember it correctly. What if it had never happened at all?
Genesis' parents were kind enough, if not a little ambitious. Genesis complained often about his mother and father being demanding, always expecting so much from their son who steadily rose in the ranks of SOLDIER. They had showered Sephiroth with gifts, and repeated Genesis' many childhood accomplishments more times than Sephiroth could keep track of. Genesis hated it, always embarrassed when they showed Sephiroth the awards Genesis won for his 'Banora White juice' idea, and the success it brought their family. Sephiroth said he could understand Genesis' grief, but wasn't it supposed to be natural for parents to be proud of their child?
"Yes, yes, but they always want more! Never satisfied, like a SOLDIER recruit addicted to mako."
Sephiroth's response: "I can't say for myself, but I've gathered that parents would do anything to see their children succeed."
Genesis had huffed and turned away, burying himself in Loveless.
Sephiroth opened the door to the helicopter as it hovered over a small clearing. It was too small for the helicopter to land, and otherwise occupied by a cluster of tents and trailers. Diggers and researchers ran about below them, holding onto their caps and trying to keep documents and items from flying away as the propeller blades threw up dust and leaves and wind.
He turned to look at the pilot. "Take it back to Junon and remain there until I call back." Naomi Posada nodded, readjusting her headset.
"Good luck, sir."
Without another word he leapt out of the chopper without hesitation, not waiting to see if the infantrymen would follow. Without so much as a bend at the knees, his feet found the ground, and his long silver hair slapped at his backside as the wind blew it about. The strands fell back into place as the helicopter gradually lifted away.
"Is there something wrong?" asked one of the infantrymen behind him. Sephiroth turned to see them brushing dirt off of their uniforms. Even though the helicopter was gone, the research team was still running about in a frenzy.
A tall and slender dark-skinned woman came running up towards them, dressed in khaki shorts and a small purple top, tied just above her naval. She was out of breath by the time she reached them, her body covered in dirt and her thick hair in disarray from her headband.
"Thank goodness you've come!" she exclaimed, bending over and holding onto her knees as she tried to breathe. "The ruins! Some of them are trapped inside! I tried to tell her to turn back, but she wouldn't listen! Just kept going, looking for that damn Keystone!"
His eyebrows knitted together. "Keystone?" He hadn't heard about that since…
"Doesn't exist, I told her, but she's so damn stubborn!" Her hazel eyes growing wide, the woman took a hold of Sephiroth's coat and pleaded, "Please! You have to get her! The traps have been activated, and we don't know how to make them stop!"
His gloved hand fell on the woman's bare shoulder, and she gasped as he shoved her aside, breaking the hold she had on his coat. "Lead me to the ruins," he commanded, and looking indignant she took off ahead of Sephiroth and the pair of infantrymen.
Sephiroth unsheathed Masamune to clear away some of the foliage on the narrow foot trail. The woman, being just a few inches shorter than Sephiroth himself, crouched to get through the tangled branches, but Sephiroth didn't have the patience for any of that. The sun barely made it through the canopies in some areas of the jungle. Behind him the younger infantryman swatted a mosquito that had targeted his neck. Already they were sweating, the humidity and closeness of air a far cry from the smoggy oxygen in Midgar.
"We have to hurry," the woman reminded them, turning sideways to squeeze through a tight space between the trees. Her voice sounded strained and anxious. "Ment has a map he's drawn of the tombs, so use that so you can avoid the faux ante-chambers."
"Fox what?" asked an infantryman.
"Small rooms deliberately built with nothing inside to fool looters," Sephiroth explained. The woman nodded in agreement, her lips parted from trying to answer before he could.
"Here, just a little more…" she strained, and then pushed on through the thick vegetation, her foot splashing into a stream. Sephiroth hacked at greenery, creating a proper opening. What awaited him was a small doorway, surrounded by panicking excavators. The complex itself was buried in nature, no amount of masonry visible, save for the carving above the entrance. It was a face with empty eye sockets, and an open mouth with snakes and insects spewing forth from it.
The dark-skinned woman caught him staring at it and said, "That's the symbol for 'plague' or 'disease.' There are other hieroglyphs inside that suggest similar things."
The other diggers turned, finally realizing Sephiroth's presence. They immediately backed away as he stepped forward towards the entrance. An older man with a scowl set deep into his face handed him some parchment.
"You must be Ment," Sephiroth said.
"Welcome to the Tomb of Those Who Still Fight," Ment said, his tone lined with sarcasm as well as greeting. Frowning, the seasoned researcher pointed to a spot on the map. "Try there first. That was where we last saw her before the traps went off."
"'Her' being the project leader?" asked Sephiroth, and Ment nodded.
"We've lost some others too, including a group of students interning with us. They're good kids. They don't deserve to be electrocuted or impaled." Ment turned to the frightened woman who found Sephiroth. "Myrna, if I catch you trying to find her yourself-,"
"Don't worry," she replied. "It's not my fault she's an idiot anyway."
"You think she activated the traps," Sephiroth guessed.
"Who knows?" Myrna answered, "but I only just got married a few months ago. I'm not about to throw that all away for her search for something that doesn't even exist."
Sephiroth pocketed the map. "Stay here and guard the entrance," he told the infantrymen. They were more than happy to oblige, already murmuring superstitious fears to one another. He suddenly remembered that Angeal used to enjoy those 'cursed temple' action films. On that thought, he stepped through into the darkness.
The entrance was tiny, and he had to crouch to avoid the low ceiling. Someone screamed deep inside the tomb as Sephiroth's eyes took a moment to adjust, the mako burning slightly. The narrow passage sloped downwards rather sharply. Was there no choice but to slide down? If so, how had the others escaped when the traps went off? Sephiroth looked at Ment's map. According to the drawing, a chamber on the north side was damaged and opened up to the opposite end of the tomb, under a large cavern. It should be easy enough to navigate back to the researcher's camp from that point.
Sephiroth put one foot forward and slid down, hunched still to avoid hitting his head. The slope seemed to go on forever, and on the way he glimpsed flares that the diggers had thrown in to illuminate the tomb, long since extinguished. When he finally reached the bottom, more extinguished flares crunched under his boots. There was no need for them however, as the researchers had the sense to light some torches that were mounted on the walls. Sephiroth looked about at the circular room, slightly intrigued by the hieroglyphs and drawings etched into the walls. There were about six or seven figures that took predominance in the images, possibly deities or materia summonings. An austere female figure reminded him of Shiva, the ice summoning, and another vaguely of Odin.
The round chamber opened up into numerous passages and corridors. Sephiroth chose one indicated on Ment's map, one that led northeast. He ignored the first junction to his right; one that led to a chamber that Ment had named the 'Bahamut room.' Just some ways after that Sephiroth paused at a chasm in the ground. Peering into it he glimpsed enormous spikes that jutted up from the bottom. They were easy to miss in the darkness.
Apparently the floor collapsed, he realized, spotting the fresh body of an unfortunate digger, impaled on one of the spikes.
The gap was long, with only a few pieces of undamaged tile scattered about it. It would have been impossible for a normal human being to cross it. Sephiroth stepped back a bit and then jumped, covering the distance effortlessly. The path broke off into two different directions again, and he chose the right, heading along a plain hall, devoid of any more ancient drawings or decorated statues. According to the map, this particular path would eventually lead him to an area called the 'Shiva room', then to a large hall titled 'Original Entranceway', then to the 'Ramuh room' if he proceeded along the same direction. Then finally, he would reach his appointed destination, the largest chamber the tomb had to offer, apparently the main burial site.
Sephiroth stepped into the 'Shiva room', taken aback by the sudden change in scenery. What had been dark and dank and humid was now bright, and blue and most importantly of all, freezing. Ice covered every inch of the square area, even up to the shrine against the wall, which contained a bust of the same austere Shiva he had seen upon entering. A body lay in frozen pieces all over the floor, bits of red and flesh easily visible within the ice chunks. Another body sat hunched in the corner, frozen completely, but still intact.
Sephiroth carefully treaded the icy floor, the rubber soles of his boots tempted to slide along. His sword was still unsheathed, and he studied the room, aware of the obvious homage to the ice summoning. It was depicted everywhere, and the largest wall engraving showed her upon a throne on a snow-covered cliff overlooking a massive crater.
Though it was I who froze you in the Injury you caused, somehow you have escaped, Calamity.
He turned around, alarmed. Yet, there were no others in the room, save for the frozen man in the corner and his companion in pieces. When Sephiroth heard the voice again, it felt like icy breath on the back of his neck.
Speak, Calamity!
Snarling, Sephiroth swung Masamune, it's edge cutting one of the iced walls. Suddenly, before his eyes, an apparition materialized in front of Shiva's stone bust. It was the same stern woman, though she looked very unlike the summoning he was used to facing. The ice deity's skin was not the traditional blue, nor was her hair or lips. Instead she was simply pale, her white hair frosty-looking, and her robes elegant and regal.
What you seek… we simply cannot let you have, not with the Death you brought Her last time.
Shiva said this, and yet Sephiroth did not see her lips move to speak... but somehow he knew it was her. His irritation gradually grew into anger, and finally some unexplained hatred for the summoning. Sephiroth's veins seemed to burn for a need to see Shiva's blood spilled. Devastation was a clear and appealing solution to his current obstacle.
She screams, Calamity. You bring Her pain with your blood, infecting Her and the children.
"Enough!" Sephiroth brought Masamune down towards Shiva's head, but it made no contact, simply passing through the apparition. Shiva only blinked.
And this abomination you've brought to our sanctuary? A perfect being, you say? What of the others who have also come with you, who decay with every passing sun?
Sephiroth didn't understand, and he didn't want to. He concentrated hard on his anger, focused on it. There was no real reason to hate this strange version of the summoning. This was all simply some sort of challenge designed for the ruins by the Ancients, all part of the trap to protect the place. Calming himself he focused the energy from his materia, feeling the cold give way to the satisfying heat that emanated from his palm. The flames shot out at Shiva and she was engulfed in them. Her scream was agonizing, a wail that penetrated deep into Sephiroth's ears.
He was certain he would shatter just as the ice around him did so. The chunks fell and broke on the floor like glass, and the ice beneath his feet cracked throughout the room, freeing his feet from the slippery trap. Already it had all begun to melt, and Sephiroth was satisfied by the heat waves that licked at his chilled face. His fire spell devoured the specter until Shiva was simply no more.
The SOLDIER 1st class was silent for a long moment, looking around once more to take in his surroundings. Never had he seen Shiva like this. Genesis had been adept with summon materia, and they used them often simply to train. Never had the summons attempted to communicate with their summoners. Sephiroth did not even try to interpret the ice queen's cryptic words. They were as foreign to him as the very ruins he stood in, verses and rooms not seen or heard by human beings for over two thousand years. Shaking his head, Sephiroth continued to the next area.
It was a hall with a massive stone doorway that was sealed shut, what Ment's map described as the 'Original Entranceway.' Sephiroth approached the doors and found a human hand sticking out in between them, the body belonging to it clearly squashed flat by the two stones. He did not bother searching for a way to open them. Instead, he proceeded in the same direction from before, across from Shiva's room and into the next one.
It doesn't take much to guess what's going to happen next, he thought, and he was right. The 'Ramuh room' was awash with random and chaotic bolts of electricity shooting out in every direction from all four walls. Sephiroth stood just behind the entrance where the lightning was not yet reaching. Directly ahead of him was the opening to the final room, the Burial Chamber.
You've taken other forms before, but none like this.
Sephiroth tensed, already feeling a foreign hatred rise for this new, wizened voice. The bolts of lightning continued to strike the walls about Ramuh's area, with no particular pattern. The scent of burnt ozone that came with every strike was almost nauseating.
Is there no end to the contamination? Do you exist simply to bring despair upon all life, not just the beings you have a vendetta against?
Sephiroth grasped the stone doorframe, watching for any kind of hesitation in the lightning strikes. Was Ramuh really referring to him? Or… perhaps Shin-Ra? After all, there were groups that felt that Mako harvesting was killing the Planet, and scholars in Cosmo Canyon had presented scientific evidence to prove it as well. Shin-Ra also had many enemies, more than enough for a vendetta.
We've chosen this state for ourselves… not joining our brethren in the Promised Land so that we could continue to fight. If that means forever wandering the Lifestream and being harnessed by others to prevent your return, then so be it.
"Welcome to the Tomb of Those Who Still Fight," Ment had said to him. Were the summons once Ancients then?
By our given birthright-,
Sephiroth charged forward, no longer interested in the lightning sage's drivel. A bolt streamed across in front of him, and he dove over it, rolling as another tried to strike him from the ceiling. A calculated slice with Masamune discharged another, sending the energy back to a wall and blowing a portion out of the stone. He instinctually dodged every amount of pure voltage thrown at him, gracefully evading until he reached the other side.
When he was finally in the safety of the Burial Chamber, Sephiroth turned back to see the previous room. A transparent image of an old man with an impossibly long black beard stared impassively back at him, the electricity surrounding him like an aura. Sephiroth strode into the Burial Chamber, sneering. Shiva and Ramuh. Too easy.
The burial site was the largest area he had seen by far in the tomb. Towering columns held the impossibly high ceiling aloft, making Sephiroth wonder how far he had actually descended into the ruins. A second floor followed the room's perimeter, but he could discern nothing of interest from the ground. The main attraction of the burial room was the arrangement of stone sepulchers, seven in total. The one closest to him was completely destroyed, a pile of rubble with no Ancient's remains to be seen.
There was no sign of the project leader.
She's probably the one in pieces in Shiva's room, he decided, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Damn it! Not Loveless again!"
Sephiroth's head perked up at the exclamation. It had sounded muffled, but it was certainly there, and to his great reprieve, not belonging to some immaterial entity of days long since past. He even knew to whom it belonged.
He carefully approached the right wall, standing close enough to hear shuffling on the other side. "Dahlia?" he called. He quickly glanced at Ment's map for any indication of a secret room, but there was none.
The shuffling stopped, and the pattering of hurried footsteps approached the wall. "Sephiroth?" she asked in disbelief.
Sephiroth sighed. "Are you trapped?" he asked, sounding more annoyed than concerned.
"…Yes."
Rolling his eyes, he replied, "Fine. Stand back." When he was sure that Dahlia was a safe distance away from the wall, he readied his materia, sending out lightning that blasted a hole in the wall. To bring down rest he used an explosive fire spell, eventually finding the trapped project leader standing alone in the secret room, her hands on her hips.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded, brown eyes set in a glare.
"I should ask you the same," he said, stepping over the burnt rubble inside. "Besides, didn't you call for SOLDIER?"
"I didn't think they would send you," Dahlia replied, her tone anything but grateful for the hero's presence. "I thought something like this was for a 2nd, hell, a 3rd!"
Sephiroth scowled. "You're welcome."
Shaking her head, the woman turned away from Sephiroth, back towards what seemed to be a large tablet with the hieroglyphs of the Ancients inscribed all over it. With a huff she sat down on the ground with a notebook in her lap to copy down the words.
Dahlia Cuddy. Lazard had been right about the project leader being worse than Hojo by Sephiroth's standards. Where Hojo was a bothersome pest, Dahlia was a migraine waiting to happen.
"Dahlia, you do realize that a number of your colleagues are dead?"
She paused, but didn't look at him. "The traps. I had just discovered the opening to this room when it all happened, and then the wall sealed itself shut before I could do anything."
Sephiroth approached the tablet she was translating and stood next to it to look at her, though she deliberately kept her eyes away from him and solely on the stone. She was wearing a black tank top and gray cargo pants, her light brown hair pulled up in a quick and messy bun. He hadn't heard from her in over three years.
"A woman named Myrna mentioned the Keystone," said Sephiroth. "What makes you think it's here?"
Dahlia dropped her pen on the notebook and rubbed at her tired-looking eyes. "I was so close! I was sure that this place guarded it, but this room ended up being nothing more than a faux ante-chamber with Loveless inscribed here." She flicked her pen at the tablet with a frown.
"Loveless?" he questioned, now glancing at the foreign script. "I hadn't realized it was that old."
Dahlia gestured with her hands as she explained, "Well, it's not called Loveless on here, and the verses are very different from the version we know of today. Still, the major elements of the epic remain the same. This here is Act I."
"Infinite in mystery is the Gift of the Goddess," Sephiroth recited, sounding bored. "We seek it thus and take to the sky. Ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest."
Dahlia raised a curious eyebrow at him. "That's right. Anyway, here the Ancients have replaced 'water' with 'Lifestream,' implying that perhaps something has disturbed the flow of life."
"And what does this have to do with your search for the Keystone?" he asked her.
Dahlia shrugged. "Nothing so far. I guess my clues led me astray."
"I've told you before, Dahlia. I don't think it exists."
Dahlia stood, looking angry. "And I've told you before, it does! How else is one meant to gain access to the Temple of the Ancients?"
Sephiroth crossed his arms. "I was talking about the Black Materia."
Dahlia was momentarily stunned before she began scowling again, miffed as she was about her life's work being doubted. "Let's go before I hurt you." Sephiroth scoffed at her as she turned her back to him, walking away with indignant stomps.
So was the nature of Sephiroth's ex-wife.
Author's Note: I've taken a lot of liberties with Sephiroth this chapter. I hope that they're up to par with his character. Really, the reason for all of this is to fill up the month-long gap between Fort Tamblin and Zack's mission in Banora. I doubt that Sephiroth just sat around, wondering what to do about Genesis and Angeal for four straight weeks. Within the next chapter or two, the story will return to familiar Crisis Core territory.
Shinz - Thank you for the first review! I'm glad that you see Sephiroth in character, and I thank you for the much needed feedback. It's always hard to tell when you're treating Jenova's son right or wrong.
I also agree that the painful/torture/Hojo childhood just doesn't sit right with the Sephiroth we see in the compilation. He wouldn't be the confident powerful man-god who summons Meteor, he'd be an angsty tormented weakling shuddering constantly at the thought of needles and syringes. I also intend to explore more of Sephiroth's views of Gast later on.
P.S. Can anyone guess who Myrna really is? There might be a prize in it for the right answer. Maybe. I don't know.