Hey, everybody. I'm supposed to be finishing my final draft for my research paper, but let's be honest - FanFiction is so much more interesting.

Thanks to those who have reviewed, faved, and alerted. I can't really Pm anyone right now, too busy, but I told myself I'd try to get this out since it's already been written, I just had to upload it. Actually, I'm almost five chapters from the end, and I have already started plot development for the third story.

WARNING: In the next chapter, something MAJOR happens, but I PROMISE you, it's going to be okay. Things aren't always what they seem~

Disclaimer: I don't own anything seen here except for the creativity I put into developing original pieces to a plot owned by someone else.

Vincent awoke while the moon still beamed in the sky. In a gross estimate, he assumed that the time neared the hour of four, perhaps slightly past. The stars still twinkled in the black velvet heavens.

Presently, his thoughts lingered on Yuffie, as they often seemed to do. He nearly laughed at himself for his incapability to endure even three days without the ninja. Truly, it was pitiful.

The gunslinger stared out of the window of the Highwind's guestroom while sitting on the window seat with one leg drawn to his chest. Idly, he examined his claw, thinking of a moment in time when the gauntlet only brought him pain and thoroughly resembled the arm of a monster. He'd never reflected on it much, but he'd sometimes catch a glimpse of it during battle as he tore at the flesh of a beast, and it would take him by surprise, as if he were noticing the metallic appendage for the first time. Granted, it only covered his true arm and he could remove it if he chose, but he never did. He left it on as a constant reminder that he was an evil, demon-harboring man with a corrupted soul. Perhaps Yuffie was better off without him in the end. Yes, perhaps he had done the right thing for once by leaving her. After all, she'd said that she no longer loved him, so it must have been pity that led her to contact Cid and ask for his whereabouts. Yes, it must have been her pity that caused her to follow him to the door, pity for knowing that he'd never been lucky in love and been used as an experiment for the perverse scientist that made him the freak he was today.

The sound of footsteps on the wood floor alerted Vincent that another was awake somewhere in the house. After a couple of minutes, he could smell bacon and decided it must have been Shera up making breakfast. Good, he thought, she will not bother me.

The sun had begun to peek over the horizon, little streaks of pink rising out of the navy blue and violet. Chocobos warked in the distance, signaling the coming of the morning. Reluctantly, Vincent slipped off the window seat and made his way to the door, fastening his cloak around his shoulders as he left his room. When he walked into the kitchen, Shera shrieked, flinging a spatula at him that he promptly ducked beneath to avoid earning a generous red mark to his forehead.

Cursing and shouting accompanied Cid as he ran into the kitchen, crying, "What's wrong, Sher!?"

Highwind's wife stared at the gunslinger, eyes wide and chest heaving as she held a hand to her heart, gasping, "Vincent is a very, very stealthy man, Cid. I wonder, did you know that?"

Cid threw his head back, laughing as he turned and left. "Yeah, yeah. I know. It's got to do with his being a vampire, I'm sure. Now, if you two don't mind, I'm going back to sleep – it's five in the morning!"

Vincent watched the pilot head back down the hall, then turned to Shera, offering her a look of apology before greeting, "Good morning, in any case."

Shera nodded and smiled, then turned back to scrambling eggs and frying bacon. The gunslinger turned and entered the living room, spying his PHS on the coffee table. His hand twitched toward it, but his will power prevailed and he restrained himself from reaching for the phone and dialing Yuffie. How could he not survive more than a few hours without experiencing the intense need to call the ninja and check on her? He pushed the feeling aside as his overprotective nature and desire for defending the woman he loved. Unfortunately, by denying himself the opening to call, he was leaving himself cantankerous, irritable, and edgy, constantly itching to find out how Yuffie was faring and if she was safe and well.

Twenty minutes later, Cid entered the living room and nodded at Vincent, yawning obnoxiously. "Shera told me to tell you that breakfast is ready. You comin', or should I find some O negative to suit your palate?"

Vincent smirked and stood, shrugging. "I'm partial to A positive, actually." Yuffie's A positive.

Cid pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at the gunslinger. "Are you sure you're the real Vincent Valentine, or are you Yuffie parading around in her Halloween costumer again?"

"Again?" Vincent deadpanned, then demanded, "What Halloween costume?"

Cid grinned and pointed at him, replying, "Ha, blackmail, Vince." He turned around to find his wife giving him a chiding look, to which he mollified her by giving her a kiss and saying, "Breakfast smells great, sweetie."

She gave him a sickly-sweet and answered, "Then go and eat the oatmeal and strawberries I made you. Vincent, bacon's on the table, and the eggs are in the frying pan. There are some pancakes on a platter on the counter if you'd like them."

Vincent shrugged at Cid and stated, "After you."

"Have you found any- Yuffie?" Reeve stepped into Yuffie's office, slightly startled that it was empty. Her desk remained clean of any reports, pens, papers, or folders. Glancing around, the commissioner sighed, wondering where the ninja had run off to.

He stepped out of her office and opened the door to her secretary's room, peeking his head in and asking, "Have you seen Yuffie?"

The woman glanced up from tapping away at her keyboard in front of the computer's blue glow and stated, "She stepped out an hour ago, sir. Would you like me to contact her?"

Reeve shook his head and responded, "No, thank you. Do you know where she went?"

Shaking her head, the secretary replied, "I'm not sure, but she took her things with her. She had all of her paperwork with her, so I doubt that she returned home."

Reeve glanced at his watch, his eyes wide as he discovered that it was almost five-thirty in the morning. He'd, thankfully, been able to achieve some sleep due to having his own apartment on the sixth level of the headquarters. If Yuffie hadn't left, it meant she was working all night.

"Thank you." Reeve closed the door and headed down the corridor, taking the stairs to the floor below him. He moved quietly along the row of rooms, but paused as his attention caught when he passed the break-room. The light to the lounge shone through the crack beneath the door, and Reeve stepped in to investigate.

The sound of the coffee siphon dripping echoed in the otherwise quiet room. Yuffie sat at the table in the center of the break room, her hand clutching the handle of a steaming coffee mug as she glared glassily at the report in front of her, a dead look in her bloodshot eyes.

"Yuffie?" Reeve called out, and the ninja started, which struck him as odd. It seemed almost a paradox for a ninja to be caught off guard. At that moment, it hit him just how late she'd stayed up.

"Have you been here all night?" the commissioner inquired with distaste, taking a seat beside the tired girl. She nodded and rubbed her eyes.

"Yeah, I've been searching through these reports for anything of interest. I've read each word slowly, each sentence separately, and then studied the statement as a whole – and yet, nothing! I've gone through almost half of them, but it's taking too damn long!" As she talked, her hands moved animatedly, and she ended up scattering half of the papers on the floor, earning a string of profanities.

A sigh escaped the man's lips as he crossed his arm and gave the ninja a tired look. "Go home, Yuffie. You've been overworking yourself. You need sleep."

Yuffie's eyes took on a blissful haze when he mentioned sleep, but she snapped out of it a second later, her face taking on a determined visage. "Not no, but hell no. I will work every damned hour from here on out until I fall over dead or Rosso is found! I will not allow someone else to get hurt because I was tired. I won't let some other poor mom find her baby ripped to pieces in its crib because I was tired. I will not, Reeve! Now go fix me some fresh coffee!"

Nothing else could be said to sway the ninja, that much Reeve was certain of. He didn't blame her, for he understood where she was coming from. No matter the personal cost, Yuffie desired justice.

"Alright." Reeve went to work fixing up a new pot of coffee and left the lounge, leaving Yuffie to pour over her reports once more.

Midday arrived in a hurry, and Yuffie was no closer to finding an answer than she had been at midnight. Biting her lip in frustration, the ninja slammed her fist into the table, knocking over her mug of cold coffee in the process.

"Crap!" she cursed, her eyes wide as some of the bitter liquid spread onto the papers that littered her desk, the dark substance spreading along the cluttered mess like a puddle of blood. Grabbing for napkins, Yuffie began to soak up the coffee as quickly as she could, all the while spitting out obscenities. Her heart fluttered and tears filled her eyes as some of the papers began to disintegrate, the fibers dissolving as the liquid broke them down, dissolving like the hopes of catching Rosso. "No, no, no! I've still got so many to look at!"

Furiously, she scrambled for the coffee-soaked papers and began to cover them in paper towels, blowing on them as if she'd suddenly acquired the talent of a hair-dryer. This pathetic display carried on for a near minute, and the blue-faced ninja's throat constricted. After saving what little she could, Yuffie slumped down into her seat, feeling a prick of heat and water behind her eyes. That small little indication of a coming storm bubbled up inside of her, starting in her hammering chest, moving through her tightened throat, shoveling past her thick tongue that seemed to occupy more space than it had before, making it harder to swallow back the sensation. Suddenly, the impossibility of it all hit her, stealing her breath away and forcing the hot, fat tears from their hiding place.

Mama, Aerith, Rimmy, Vincent – gone.

Rosso – unaccounted for and on the loose.

AVALANCHE – tearing at the seams.

Wutai – turned its back on me.

And me? I'm a failure who let down her husband, her child, the ones she calls family…

I am not the greatest ninja, I'm not even important. I'm just a screw up.

And the sobs ripped through Yuffie. She cried for her lonely and broken heart, cried for the premature death of Rimmy, and cried for the knowledge that finding the traitor who assisted Rosso was hopeless. She wept into her arms, a burning and aching sensation growing in her lungs and chest. She slowly allowed herself to come to the realization that she was a complete and utter failure.

"I stole my friends' materia and nearly got them killed, I never saved Wutai, I got kicked out of Wutai for getting pregnant with a baby that ultimately died because I wasn't strong enough to save her, and now I can't even bring the bitch that did it to justice? Why did I ever think that I'd be good enough for Vincent Valentine? Why did I ever think I'd be good enough for AVALANCHE? Why did Reeve ever think I'd be good enough to head espionage?"

She kicked her foot against her desk, finding no real comfort in her pity party, but at least getting relief from being honest with herself. "I'm probably better off photocopying my ass and using the laser printer to send out copies of it."

Yuffie pushed away from the table and shuffled the papers into a stack, encasing them in a folder. She marched to Reeve's office and threw the door open, dropping the file on the wide-eyed and opened-mouthed man's desk and declaring, "I quit."

Cid glanced at Vincent as he held his PHS to his ear, whispering, "And you're telling me not to tell him."

There was a sigh, and then, "That is what I said, isn't it?"

The pilot grumbled as he retreated back into the kitchen, glancing around the doorway every now and then to watch as Vincent and Shera discussed her plans for the nursery – or rather, Shera talked and the gunslinger listened. Cid paced and ran a hand down his face, hissing, "But Rimmy was his baby, too! And besides, Rosso ripped the protomateria out of his chest and nearly killed him! And you're telling me not to tell Valentine that the rat is gone?"

"Cid, I need you to trust me on this. We cannot tell Vincent at this moment, alright? Just… Just give it some time, alright?" Reeve pleaded. A thick silence hung over the two as the pilot considered his options.

Against his better judgment, Cid agreed, feeling guilty that he was keeping something from his friend that he deserved to know. "A'ight, but if this backfires, I didn't know a damn thing, Tuesti."

"Thank you, Cid," the commissioner replied. "Goodbye."

Cid hung up the phone with a heavy heart and went back into the living room. Shera glanced up and smiled at her husband. "Is everything alright?"

Cid smiled with one side of his mouth and assured, "Everything's fine, Sher, but Reeve needs me to take the Shera and help out with a little field mission up at the W.R.O."

"Would you like me to accompany you?" Vincent inquired. A shake of the pilot's head and a grim smile was his answer.

"Nah, why don't you stay here and keep Shera company. I'll call when I get there." The pilot waved goodbye to his wife and his friend, then packed his things and boarded the Shera. He flew her toward the W.R.O. headquarters, all the while thinking, This cannot be good.

When Cid arrived, Yuffie nearly jumped for joy. She ran to the pilot and shoved his shoulder, crying, "Old man, I've been waiting for three hours!"

He chuckled and responded, "Shut up, brat! I'll get the hell here when I want to, and you'll be grateful that I'm giving your ass a ride."

The kunoichi pouted at him and blew a raspberry, then humphed and made her way to the Shera. Reeve exited the building and approached Cid, the latter glaring ominously and the former suppressing a wince.

"Hello, Cid. Thank you for-"

"Listen here, Tuesti, I don't care what kind of bigshot you are up here now, but you had better think things through. Yuffie can't handle this crap right now, and Vincent deserves to know the truth. You think about that."

The man nodded at Cid and replied, "I will."

Satisfied, the pilot turned and made his way back to the Shera, climbing up and going back to the controls at the front of the airship. Yuffie was waiting patiently, her back against the rail near the large shield.

"Heading home?" Cid asked, and Yuffie nodded.

"Got tired of working," she offered, not really willing to continue to discuss the subject. She turned her head and gazed out of the glass, watching as the airship began to climb higher into the sky.

"Nibelheim?"

"Yeah."

Cid nodded at Yuffie and set course for the little town, giving her one last curious glance. Unable to hold back his question, he asked, "What have you been doing up there all this time?"

Shrugging, Yuffie answered honestly, "Waiting for Vincent to come back, and trying to find the bitch that killed my daughter." She turned around and stalked away, heading off in some random direction. Cid turned back to the steer and continued the path to Shinra Manor, wondering if he should attempt to talk to Vincent. It was apparent that Yuffie needed him with her, especially at a time like this. But on the other hand, the gunslinger seemed to be doing very well now that his heart wasn't in a constant state of tug-of-war with happy Yuffie on one end and psycho Yuffie on the other.

Thoughts swam in his head all the way back to Nibelheim, the gruff brute debating the pros and cons of getting the couple back together again. At length, he decided that he would tell Vincent everything as soon as he arrived in Rocket Town again, and he would encourage him to go home and be with Yuffie. As much as it might have hurt Vincent to put up with her mood swings, it would be better for both of them. Cid, being much like Yuffie's father, hated seeing her upset, and she was always upset without Vincent. At least if he were around, she would be happy some of the time. He may suffer slight headaches and heartaches, but at least they could work things out and heal together, not force themselves to heal from all that had happened alone, and on top of that, try to heal from a tragic breakup, also.

Cid landed the Shera in Nibelheim and waved Yuffie off, telling her to call him every now and then to chat, and not just when she needed transportation. She grinned and hugged him, then let go and took off. He stood on the deck and watched as she sped through the forested area.

The annoying chime of his PHS struck in his head, and the pilot opened the phone, answering, "Highwind."

"Yes, Cid? It's Reeve again."

"Reeve?" Cid grumbled, wondering why the commissioner had called him only a short time after they last spoke. "Whadaya want this time?"

"Well, there's been a slight change in the plot."

"Oh?" The intrigue of Reeve's statement volleyed at Cid.

"Rosso has returned, and of her own volition."

Like a fish, Cid's mouth gaped for a moment or two, and he couldn't think of the words to say. Finally, he asked, "So she just waltzed into the headquarters and stated, 'I'm here'?"

"In a manner of speaking," Reeve agreed. "I do not entirely understand, myself. She just stepped into the lobby, took the elevator, and stormed into my office."

"Well, what did she say!?" Cid demanded, still standing on the deck and gaping in disbelief. Beyond him, the little forest town ambled on, oblivious to the magnitude of the event taking place past them. Men and women strolled around, paying no mind to the man aboard the airship with his phone to his ear. No one understood that all around them, someone else's life, another's story could potentially alter their own, even history itself.

"She said that she had merely left for a bit of a vacation," Reeve replied, his voice quizzical.

Cid deadpanned, "A vacation, you're joking, right?"

"Unfortunately not. She's being interrogated for further information regarding the person who helped break her out and where she went for the past day. It wasn't a very long vacation, I must say, but it was certainly effective in scaring the better part of the W.R.O. and putting Yuffie on high alert, while messing with her mind, I imagine. I'm curious as to why she left, and what she was up to."

Cid pinched the bridge of his nose and agreed, "Must have been up to no good. If you find anything else out, let me know."

"Alright. Goodbye, Highwind."

"Over and out, Tuesti."

Yuffie unpacked her bags slowly, taking time to fold each article of clothing separately and precisely before placing it in the drawers of her room. She made sure to keep her clothes from touching Vincent's, for fear that his scent would disappear. When she finished emptying her suitcase, she remained sitting cross-legged on the floor, her hands her lap.

The room felt too empty and too quiet. Her eyes drifted to the large bed in the middle of the room, its red satin sheets still wrinkled and the bed still unmade in evidence of their frisky activities that morning before he walked out. Why, why hadn't she stayed with Vincent? Why did she have to push him away? Why did she spend her time sleeping in Rimmy's room, rather than in his protecting, comforting arms? Yuffie couldn't answer, couldn't figure out why she had rejected him. The situation suddenly seemed so abstruse.

"I should call him," Yuffie stated, her voice echoing in the silent manor. Almost amusingly, all of the recent events seemed to catch up to the ninja. Had she really not even bothered to consider telling Vincent that Rosso had escaped? Yuffie figured that it must have been because she was too caught up in working to find the Tsviet, that she had been lost in her own world. But Vincent deserved to know as much as anyone else.

The ninja picked her PHS up and pressed one, waiting as the dial tone responded and rang. And rang. And rang. She sighed and pulled the PHS away, frowning at it. "Really, Vincent? You're giving me the cold shoulder?"

She tossed the phone onto the bed, annoyed at the gunslinger. Grabbing some clothes and storming into the bathroom to start a shower, Yuffie missed her phone lighting up and vibrating as the caller I.D. flashed Vinnie.

The warmth of the water on her aching and tired body soothed the kunoichi into a placidly eased state, allowing her mind to drift and think clearly. As she showered, her thoughts breezed through her head, replaying every second at the W.R.O. facility.

She walked in, examined the chair – broken shackles. Examined shackles – melted edges. Melted edges equals heat. Heat means a narrow tool to avoid injury. A narrow tool that could reach a temperature that melts through iron cuffs…

Sighing, Yuffie shook her head, sending water droplets everywhere as she scrubbed herself clean. "Like I said before, Yuffs, you need to stick to laser printing copies of your ass and sending them around the office for kicks."

Reeve paced, his lips pulled into a frown. So far, the Tsviet had yet to divulge any useful information. The best they had gotten from her was, 'If you want to know who your traitor is, start first by examining your own heart, Tuesti.'

What was that even supposed to mean?

Rosso had simply waltzed into the World Regenesis Organization and taken the elevator to his office. No one tried to apprehend her; they only alerted the W.R.O. commissioner that the crazy-ass Tsviet was back and headed his way for Jenova knew what reason. He barely even had time to mentally prepare himself.

Unfortunately, no amount of punching the bitch in the eye was getting her to confess to diddly-squat. Reeve's finest interrogators had been at it for hours, but the Tsviet was tough. Even Reno - someone Reeve called in as a very last resort - had left the chamber, panting and sweaty as he confessed, 'Nope, sorry, Reeve. I got nothin'.'

As the time passed by, Reeve was growing more apprehensive. He wondered if Cid had told Vincent what had happened yet, and thoroughly hoped that once the pilot told the gunslinger, he'd at least give him a call and a heads up so that he could get a running start before Vincent decided to blast him from here to the Lifestream for withholding that kind of information from him. In any case, he hadn't told Yuffie that Rosso was back, either, but he was rather preoccupied with trying to straighten out the fragmented sentences and mumbo-jumbo that Rosso would spout off occasionally. He wondered if all of the blows to the head hadn't given her amnesia yet. That would be quite the set-back.

"Reeve Tuesti," a voice called, and the commissioner turned to find his fiancée watching him with her curious blue eyes. She smiled slightly in that endearingly mechanical way of hers and cocked her head. "Have you found anything else out?"

Reeve shook his head at Shelke and replied, "Nothing so far, but we are trying to piece together her information."

"Information?" Shelke repeated, the sentence sparking her attention. Her eyes widened skeptically as she inquired, "What has she told you?"

The commissioner shrugged and stated, "I'm not sure, really. But as soon as I figure it out, I'll let you know."

Shelke smiled at him and encouraged, "You're a great leader, Reeve. You can do this, just hang in there."

"Thank you," he replied, smiling back. Sometimes, she caught him off guard. She was simply amazing in the regard that she could steal the breath from his lungs with a comment like that, with the expressive eyes and smiles that, awhile before, she had not even known how to make. He loved her for trusting him and remaining by his side, only to be with him. He could trust her with anything.

After a moment of silence, a thought seemed to flash in the young-girl-looking-woman's eyes. "Can I borrow one of the airships?"

Reeve's brow furrowed as he answered, "Of course, but for what, might I ask?"

She grinned and replied, "Oh, I just need to pick something up from the Gold Saucer. You'll find out soon enough."

Reeve nodded at her, but didn't push the subject. Instead, he turned and made his way to the interrogation room at the end of the corridor, his blue robe swishing with his steps. He could hear the sounds of someone being brutally attacked, but only feminine cackling followed, Rosso's way of proving that she'd never break and that nothing they did could make her submit to their will.

Cid entered his home, bracing himself internally as he prepared to inform Vincent of the past twenty-four hours or so. Honestly, the pilot was unsure how he'd react to the news, but he figured that it would not be pleasant, especially for Reeve.

"Honey?" Shera called, and Cid smiled, entering the living room from the hallway. He made his way to his wife and kissed her, glad that she would be there for moral support.

"Hey, Sher," Cid greeted gruffly, though his eyes were affectionate.

Pushing her glasses higher up on her nose, she commented, "I have dinner ready if you're hungry. You've been gone almost all day."

Thanking her, he nodded and made his way to the kitchen, then turned and backtracked. Unfortunately, the man knew that he had matters of greater importance to attend to than eating, no matter how he wished to put off the discussion. Shera raised any eyebrow at his peculiar look.

"Where's Vincent?"

She pointed down the hall and replied, "He's in the guest room. He's a very quiet man."

The pilot took the hallway down to the last room on the right and knocked on the door, waiting for the gunslinger to open it. When he did, Cid rubbed the back of his head sheepishly and began, "Vince, there's something I should probably tell you…"

Vincent raised an eyebrow and gestured for the pilot to enter. Cid continued, "Don't freak out, 'kay?" He waited for the gunslinger to cast him a withering look and nod. "Well, Rosso broke out of the W.R.O. with the help of an internal force-"

Vincent's eyes narrowed and he interjected, "How long!?"

Cid waved away the comment and went on, "She was gone for a day, but Reeve contacted me and said that she returned. They don't know where she went or what she was doing, but she's back now. They're grilling her for details."

The ex-Turk nodded, his crimson eyes troubled and his body rigid. For a long time, he seemed to be growing more and more anxious, his body tense as his eyes took on a storm of emotions. After a moment, he asked, "How is… Yuffie?"

Grinning, Cid responded, "She's fine, Vince! You can stop being so worried about her, you know? She's a little overworked and exhausted, but sh-"

"Overworked?..." Immediately, Vincent's eyes clouded as realization dawned on him and anger thundered from within. His claw twitched as he growled lowly, "Cid Highwind, you had better not tell me that Reeve put her on the case." Vincent's tone had turned so dangerous that Cid took a step back, slightly unnerved. The tone that Vincent used was level and low, a sure sign that he was pissed beyond rationale.

Regretfully, he replied, "Hey, I wasn't the one who did it, Reeve did."

The gunslinger's eyes went from cherry to blood-red in a matter of seconds as his face morphed into an enraged scowl. He pushed past Cid toward the door, but the pilot latched onto him, crying, "Oh no you don't, Valentine! You are way too ^$%# mad to go and confront someo-"

Vincent gripped the pilot's upper arm and shoved him to the ground with a grunt, causing Cid to glare up at him with steely blue eyes. Vincent brushed himself off, still infuriated.

"I'll do as I please." The statement held a lethal undertone, and Cid's eyes widened as he realized that Vincent was just angry and nuts enough to attack anyone who got in his way, no matter who it might be.

The pilot rubbed his sore shoulder and stood, snapping, "Fine, but if you do something you regret, you best not blame it on me."

"Fair enough," Vincent replied coolly, whipping around and cloak billowing ominously. He stormed out of the house, and Cid followed him, catching Shera's eyes on the way out. She got up, a worried look on her face, but the pilot shook his head and held a hand up, cursing under his breath at the gunslinger. They walked out to where the Highwind waited, and Vincent leaned against the docked frame, his arms crossed in defiance.

They boarded the airship while Cid rounded up his crew and commanded them to fly him out to Nibelheim. He turned to Vincent and asked, "You didn't actually say where you were going, plannin' on Nibelheim?"

The stony man nodded, replying curtly, "I wish to see Yuffie."

The two took the ride in silence while the pilot reflected on the past events. He knew Vincent would be mad, but he couldn't have foreseen this kind of wrath. Vincent remained quiet, reflecting over his loss of self-control. It shook him up, for the last time he had lost it like he just had, it was with Rosso, and before that, when he would change into his demons.

"Captain!" a voice called, startling the men. They turned to see an approaching mechanic from the crew, his face white as he slid to a halt, heaving and gasping for air. "We've received urgent news from Mr. Tuesti, sir!"

"Well, you gonna stand there blubberin', or are ya gonna tell me what the hell's so important?" Cid griped, his hands on the controls. He was on edge, partly because Vincent had scared him nearly shitless, and partly because he knew that no good could come of this information. Vincent nodded, prompting the crew worker on with curiosity in his garnet eyes.

"Sir, they received news that Rosso the Crimson had access to some of the old Deepground files in the database. It's assumed that while she had broken out – from what Rude and Reno managed to beat out of her – she was investigating a certain file, a very significant one. Allegedly, when Hojo had possessed Weiss during the Deepground incident, there was talk of a materia summon, one not discovered before."

"Summon?" Vincent repeated, an unsettling feeling befalling him.

"Yes sir, Mr. Valentine. This summon is said to be located somewhere near the materia deposits in the old caves outside of Nibelheim."

"… Lucrecia's cave?" Vincent asked, apprehensive at the prospect.

"Perhaps, sir. The summon's rumored to possess the power of a single soul. No one knows just whom the summon conjures up, but Mr. Tuesti said that experimentation is prohibited."

Vincent's eyes blackened, a calculating gleam in them. "Cid, take me to the caves."

"But, sir, Mr. Tuesti said-"

"Ah, shuddup, kid. When ol' Vampy-breath sets his mind to somethin', there ain't no deterrin' him." Cid snickered, shaking his head. In all honesty, he was only letting Vincent get his way because he was slightly terrified of telling the gunslinger no after the earlier passionate ire he possessed.

The crewman glanced around fitfully, then leaned in. "I… I'm not supposed to tell you this… But I guess, since you aren't listening to orders anyway, there won't be a problem. Reeve Tuesti sent a W.R.O. scientist in to inspect the newborn materia – and the scientist returned mad, like, raving insane. He tried attacking his team, took at them with a knife! Fortunately, one of the lieutenants took him down. They said that he had lost his soul – that he was empty and hollow, and absolutely rabid. Tuesti shut the project down immediately after."

"And how would a little pipsqueak like you know that?" Cid piped up, fumbling for a cigarette nervously. He didn't like the information he was hearing at all.

"I was informed by someone within the W.R.O. The informant isn't necessarily a worker in the organization, but does have access to very reliable sources," the man replied. Vincent's eyes narrowed as he wondered if these 'reliable sources' were the same ones that helped break Rosso out in the first place. He took the information in, mulling the idea around in his head.

"Interesting." The gunslinger stood and clasped his hands behind his back, pacing lightly. He stopped after a moment, confusing the pilot and mechanic when he mumbled, "Light of the future, contained within the single planet. Planet, lower-case 'p'. Hmmm."

"Yo, Gaia to Vince! What are you talkin' about?" Cid crossed his arms, and Vincent glanced up momentarily, his face paler than usual.

"You," Vincent addressed, turning to the mechanic. "Would you say that 'planet', lower-case 'p', would refer not to the Planet as 'Gaia', but to an orb – or, more ambiguously, materia?"

The mechanic, wide-eyed, glanced at Cid, and the pilot only shrugged in response. The mechanic answered, "I suppose, Mr. Valentine. I can look it up for you and bring back a list of synonyms for planet."

Vincent nodded, placing a hand to his chin. He thought back, reciting, "The harbinger of the Great Return – the manifestation of hope. Return to the Lifestream to return to Gaia, to return to the cosmos. The exiled of the Planet, the exiled of the Lifestream. The liaison of Purgatory, doth the Lifestream take, to end all and begin all. When the Rose blooms, so shall the descent into Hell begin. Light of the future, contained within the single planet."

Cid gawked at him. "You always have been strange, Vince, but that's just creepy. People don't just go around spoutin' out loopy phrases like that!" It was official, the vampire was loosing it.

"I… I need to be alone," Vincent stated, stalking off. It seemed ludicrous to believe that a summon had anything at all to do with his deceased daughter, absolutely ludicrous. Even so, something didn't quite seem right in the situation.

As he made his way to the bridge, the mechanic ran into him, out of breath. "Mr. Valentine, all synonyms that spawn from planet are apple, asteroid, earth, globe, heavenly body, luminous body, marble, orb, planetoid, sphere, terrene, wandering star, world, and materia."

Just as he suspected, no matter how insane it seemed.

Vincent nodded. "Thank you." He walked out onto the deck, processing the information. His daughter – was she the soul contained within that summon? Just what was going on here?

"Aerith," Vincent called, "one of your little visions would be most beneficial now."

The cold rail chilled Vincent's back as he slid down to sit on the deck, his arm resting on his bent knee and his head thrown back. The wind whipped at his hair, but he ignored it. He could feel the weight of his PHS in his pocket, and he almost reached for it, wanting desperately to call Yuffie. He quelled the urge, refusing to give in. He would not bother her; she needed space. Just moments ago he was ready to head home and wrap his arms around her. Moments ago, all he could desire was being with his ninja and rocking her until all of her worries melted away. Moments ago, he didn't have the opportunity he had surely just been given.

My Yuffie, what can I do to make your pain go away? If you are happy, it matters not what happens to me. I need to access that materia – I will find a way to fix this, this I swear upon my late father's grave, Gaia rest his soul.

"Yuffie?" The ninja opened her eyes, blinking to wake herself up as she held the PHS limply to her ear.

Groggily, Yuffie griped, "What!?"

"It's Reeve, Yuffie. I need you come down to the W.R.O. building as soon as possible – there's been an accident."

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