Er, so, I lied, and updated this a week after the promised date. Oops...

G.P. Larue - med school sucks, but I'm already in so much debt that the only way to get out of it would be to become a doctor. So I'm kind of screwed. I was seriously thinking about running away and joining the circus, but then realized that I have no talent for the circus venues whatsoever.

Echo the Ethereal - Yes, yes, I'm alive. And unfortunately, so are the bad guys. Jack is quite dead, though. Horray! I met the dude that I based the idiot off from during Christmas break, and I have reached the conclusion that I was right in killing Jack McKinnon off. Bye Jack!

ItaFearMe - Thanks for loving my story! This story's a little unstructured since I don't have the canon FFVII storylines to fall on, and I basically have to create everything by myself. And then there was the intrusion of Crisis Core, which kind of put off my writing. By the way, Reno rocks, (inserts random fandom)

Moonshine's Guide - Thanks for the "don't walk around drunk" advice. I now understand how magnificent Reno is, managing not to get drunk. I mean, really. I also liked your little rhyme. Unfortunately, The Turks aren't really moral so the kids did get screwed over... I guess that just says Don't mess around with the Turks.

Anyway, Climax PART ONE!

Chapter 22: Family Reunion

Reno kicked the dead body with the toe of his left shoe. Then he turned and said, "Are you okay?"

"Of course I am. Why on earth not?" Her silver earrings looked eerie in the silvery greenish light that reflected off the icy walls.

"Well, ya know…"

"Oh, that." She shrugged. "I'm not particularly interested in him at the moment. It was a girlish infatuation."

"And me?"

"You're a nuisance that for some reason I'm stuck with," she said carelessly, reholstering her firearm. She scooped a strand of hair away from her eyes. "Reno?"

"Yeah?"

"We should go."

"Oh yeah."

The trek was long and tiring, partly because their shoes kept slipping on the ice. Since they had no idea exactly what would happen at the next corner, they had to go slowly, with firm steps. This took more energy than it seemed; by the end of the fourth turn Arien's thigh muscles were beginning to feel pain. Reno had a casual step as always, but his gait was slightly slower.

It was the seventh turn when Reno slipped. He slipped, and then the next moment he felt his legs swimming in the air. He looked down, and nearly screamed as he realized that he had slipped down and his feet was swimming over nothing but air. The crack was not wide but wide enough to swallow a careless person.

Arien's hands shot out, and she grabbed his hand. She felt her feet slipping.

"Hurry up!"

"I'm trying, damn it!"

"Yes, well don't take me along!"

Reno scrambled frantically, and his hands finally found a hold over the jutting piece of ice. Hauling himself to safety, he sat down and sighed. "That," he said, "is not something I'm gonna repeat anytime soon."

Arien's response was markedly more realistic. "I wish we had a rope."

They did not have a rope, and therefore Reno, with faster reflexes, jumped over the chasm first. With a slight run he leaped, landed safely. He held out his arms as Arien leaped; she fell right into him, knocking both of them over.

"Arie?"

"Yes?"

"Can you get off?"

"Oh." She was on all fours, Reno dusting off his jacket, when she felt it through her hands.

"Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Something's coming."

Reno felt the ground. "I don't feel anything… I hear something, though."

They looked at each other.

"It can't be good," was Reno's observation.

"Well said, Captain Obvious!"

"Well, we ain't gonna fight this at the edge of this cliff. That's a sure way to die."

"Have any better ideas, Sergeant?"

"Don't call me that." Reno frowned. "We're gonna run."

"Run where?!"

"Towards the noise! Let's go!"

Arien was given no time to reject this ridiculous idea, since Reno grabbed her hand and began to run. In but a few minutes they discovered the source of the noise.

It was a huge, slimy serpent. Arien shivered and held her mouth when she saw it. She hated snakes, and she also hated slimy things like slugs and lampreys. Both combined was enough to send her into hell. It was a vivid amethyst, with emerald green and canary yellow spots. The vivid colouring did nothing to make her feel better; in fact, it made her feel worse. To fight this disgusting thing was going to be tricky.

"Arie? You look blue."

"I don't like snakes," she mumbled.

"What!? I thought you passed the exams!"

"The exam didn't produce this big of a snake!" Arien snapped. "Nor this vivid!"

"So if it was baby shit tan you'd be okay?"

Arien did not get to answer, since it charged straight at her. Her scream was piercing as she jumped a few feet back, pulling out her guns all at once and shooting as she screamed.

Reno stood, mouth open. In a few moments the head of the serpent was a mess with silver blood dripping.

"You really don't like snakes."

Arien glared at him.

He looked at the child. The child's semblance to his parents was so profound, so remarkable, that it was obvious who the parents were. Slanted vivid eyes, small nose, high cheekbones, thin mouth. The hair colour was a non-distinctive shade of very dark brown, but his eyes were startling.

Almost like jewels, he thought.

Renaldo Miller and Arien DeVir were the child's parents, the child born out of a miracle, the child with mako flowing in his veins since birth. Yet another face looked out at him from the child's visage. Those eyes, the fine structure of the face.

Sephiroth.

He remembered his rival, the general who changed history and very nearly destroyed the world. He was perfection, but perfection was a fragile balance that did not last long; knowing his origin Sephiroth had gone insane.

But why did the child look like him?

He knew for a fact that it was not from Reno's side. Reno's parents were ordinary people; Reno himself was raised in Midgar under the plates. His blood was as ordinary as it could be.

DeVir?

He had no idea who her mother was; her father was Myers DeVir, who was notorious in the department for being quite efficient and trustworthy in his work. But Myers was a Wutaian, and had no semblance to Hojo. For all he knew, Hojo was not a human but in fact an alien from outer space.

No matter. The blood should do well to receive him.

He smiled.

"Arien!"

Arien suddenly broke out in a run. She was quickly tiring due to the precarious floor, and it was unlikely of her to suddenly burst out into a run. But then she might have seen something that he had not.

The tunnel was plunged into a darkness, and Arien was now leading him, hand in hand. Her slender digits curled around his, and she led him without hesitation, as if she saw everything in broad daylight. But then it might as well as have been broad daylight for her; no darkness was truly darkness for her except when she slept. Of course, she usually toned her nightvision down because it gave her severe headaches after use, but if she wished she could see with only a faint glimmer of light.

"Wait!"

She did not stop. Reno followed, hazardously, carefully, listening to the echoes of her footsteps and his own. He did not have Arien's excellent vision; instead he had received the gift of hearing. The only problem was that if some large noise occurred while that enhanced hearing was in use, he might be deaf for the next few days. Therefore he rarely used it.

But Arien's hand was gone, and he needed a guide. There was no guide.

He ran for a few minutes, desperately listening to Arien's light footsteps, and nearly crashed into her as she suddenly halted. He was about to have a word with her, then looked, and then decided against it.

It was a huge cavern, the ceiling so high that it disappeared into the darkness. An unearthly light came from an unknown source, reflecting off the icy walls in eerie hues of cold blue and emerald green. No wind blew.

Her eyes were fixed downwards. He followed her sight, and saw that approximately five yards from where they stood at the mouth of the tunnel, the icy floor suddenly disappeared into a deep chasm. There was no end to the chasm, as far as Reno could see; the floor they were standing on thinned into a crescent shape.

In the middle of the chasm was a piece of ground that stood like a pedastal, approximately five feet wide. On the pedastal sat…

Their son.

Their son looked no different from the last time they saw him; the brown hair was slightly longer, clothes slightly tattered, but otherwise the child seemed unharmed. Except, of course, for the wide-eyed fear that mimicked his mother's.

Reno grasped her hand, squeezed it hard.

It seemed to Reno that suddenly Tseng and Elena appeared out of nowhere beside them, breatheless and quiet.

And then suddenly fire filled the deep chasm, making the shadows dance off the walls in a demonic dance, making the entire cavern glow in a sickening mix of pale teal and orange.

"So, the last player is here."

The four Turks turned as if they were synchronized toward the speaker. It was a young man, barely into his thirties, dressed in a robe of deep purple. He held a skeltal hand that was somehow held together with nothing visible.

"Last player?" Elena echoed.

"Yes. The receptacle and the chalice." The man smiled. His smile was thin, and he had a jagged scar across his cheek. He was pale, his nose squat. His eyes were green. His hair was curly and red; he seemed robust, but stood only around Elena's height. "And the blood, of course."

"What…"

"The family must be reunited before the ceremony begins," he said. Then, suddenly, he pointed at the raven-haired woman who was staring at her son.

"The blood."

He then pointed at the small child. "The chalice."

Then to the redhead, who looked utterly confused. "And the receptacle."

"What the hell is going on!?" Reno shouted. The man smiled thinly again; they saw that he had no teeth.

"A new god is going to be born," he toned. "A new god of the world. Born out of the blood of the rival who once sought the same, and failed."

"What?!"

"Seize her!"

Everything happened so fast that only Reno responded in time. But by the time he took out the swarming priests, Arien was already in the arms encased with the purple robe.

"Arien!"

She did not respond, but instead, her eyes were fixed on the man's face. The man dragged her and disappeared into the tunnel behind him.

Reno tried to follow. But when he began to move, the tunnel entrance simply disappeared.

She found herself naked and alone in the dark chamber. The room was bare apart from a vat of pale pink oil and a white gown that was folded, on a chair.

She stood still as hands that was attached to no body came out of nowhere, scooped a handful of oil, and began to rub it on her. On her face, her shoulders, her back. Her legs. It smelled of stale roses.

She stood still as the gown of almost translucent white encased her body.

She stood still as the man with green eyes came over and whispered in her ear, "it is time."

She stood still, as the man turned, expecting for her to follow. He beckoned for her to come.

She obeyed.

Reno was about to hit the wall with his fully charged EMR when Arien reappeared. She had changed, and her eyes had a glazed look. He scowled as he saw her; her translucent gown gave a faint silhouette of everything underneath, and since she was apparently naked underneath, left much of her body to the male species' imagination. All priests' eyes followed her avidly, and Reno did not wonder; he had not seen a woman around among the priesthood, and guessed that they led celibate lives. With just enough to clue what was under, the sight was tortuously tantalizing.

The head priest gently grasped her arm. A priest brought a silver knife on a blue velvet pillow, which the head priest picked up.

He grasped her wrist and slashed it.

Blood gushed, but it was caught in a basin below. It poured, trickling, in a steady pour down her middle finger. The priest did not let her go.

"Stop it, you sick fuck!" Reno screamed, but nothing happened.

Suddenly the priest let her go. She remained standing, but she was swaying. The priest turned around, picked up the basin.

Carrying the basin, he floated across the fiery chasm, and landed softly with a pat next to Vincent.

"Drink."

Reno's mouth felt sour, but Vincent drank his mother's blood obediently, without question. After he had drained the basin, the priest picked up the child, and carried him over to the redhead, who was looking utterly disgusted.

"Kill him."

Reno saw a white figure crumple to the floor from the corner of his eyes. Vincent's eyes were glazed over, just like his mother's.

"What?! Vince is the recep…"

"He is the chalice," the priest said quietly. "You, Renaldo Miller, are the receptacle. Now kill him."