"Hey buddy… you gonna be ok?"

Cloud looked up hazily at the man that stood leaned over the top of the bar, staring down at him concernedly. He had good reason. Not four seconds ago, Cloud's right arm (which was holding a small glass of something alcoholic… and strong) had began to shake violently, rattling the bottom of the glass against the top of the bar and spilling whatever beverage was inside all over it.

Cloud pressed his lips tightly together and nodded his head as fast as his arm was shaking. His shoulder began to bob as he did so, and his right knee kicked against the wall of the bars front.

Just a few more seconds… He thought to himself as he grabbed the edge of the bar with his left hand and tried to sturdy at least that side of his body. The bartender stared at him with a confused face.

"Hey… seriously man, what the hell's the matter with ya? You gonna be sick?"

"Sick?" Cloud asked. "Or dead?"

The man frowned at him, and suddenly the shaking came to an abrupt end. A tremor of a shiver ran through his body, and then Cloud was sitting up straight - leaning on his elbows, perched over his glass.

"How bout a fill?" He asked, lacing his fingers together. The bartender game him a "Are you serious?" face, before shaking his head and giving a hearty laugh and smile.

"You're out of your mind, buddy - but you keep showing me the gil, and you can be as crazy as you like." He proclaimed with a wide, toothy grin.

Cloud nodded his head, but showed no emotion on his face. He shoved his hand into his right pocket, and moments later he was slamming a handful of gil onto the table. It wasn't clean gil either. He had pick-pocketed some classy looking fellow on his way to the bar from the Shinra building. It felt good - as good as it did when he had almost met his end at the hands of the pipe-swinger. As good as it felt when he had to walk into the Shinra building without drawing attention to himself. It was the old flashes of the life he used to know that made him feel the best… made him feel alive. There were times he wished he had never given it up, but those momentary lapses were quickly brushed aside with the remembrance of the people. Yea… the people. They would have gotten him killed years ago, and he wouldn't even be alive to be enjoying the poison he was sucking back on right now. So he did like it when he stole from that business man. He was just taking back a little from the people that had taken so much from him.

"Damn people…" He muttered.

"What's that bub?" The man behind the bar asked. Cloud looked at him like he hadn't understood the words for a moment, before saying

"One more, Zack!" as he slammed the small, empty glass down. The bartender shook his head.

"The name's Enso, I told you that already. You-" He began, but his eyes shifted down to the gil on the table. When he looked back up he was shaking his head. "Alright man…" He said before grabbing the glass and heading down the bar towards the tap of whatever Cloud was drinking.

"Money… it can turn the most hostile eyes into friendly ones." Cloud said, more to himself that anything. "Money… shit" Barret's words rang clearly in his head.

Suddenly, he grabbed the table violently and stiffened his body. No, it can't be! Not this quickly together! He held on for a moment longer in anticipation before easing up, but took a few deep breathes before completely relaxing again.

This is all in your head.

Back at the Shinra building, Rufus had told him that the people Shinra had experimented on were having similar symptoms to the ones he had. Feeling and looking terrible… he could accept that, but now these muscle contractions were really pissing him off. He remembered Rufus saying something about it - about losing his mind was the next step after the body twitches. But he couldn't be right… at least Cloud couldn't believe that he was. If he gave in to the thought of himself going crazy, or worse - dying, he would surely start to do so. Just like he started twitching the moment he bought into the idea in his mind. So now he was in a constant struggle against his own head, and one way to beat your head was to drown it.

"Thanks." He said, picking up the refilled glass. He gave a little salute to the bartender before slamming the strong-scented liquid inside. It was then he noticed there was a man sitting on the stool next to him, pointing in his direction. Plopping his elbows back onto the table, he propped his chin on his knuckles and slowly tilted his head in the mans direction - but not before handing the empty glass to the bartender and giving him a nod. When his eyes met the mans, the man excitedly spoke up.

"Hey!" He said, wide-eyed and smiling. "You… you're Cloud Strife!"

The man looked like a kid opening a birthday present. Cloud smirked knowing he was going to be taking that present away awfully quick.

"No… I get that all the time though."

The man grinned, took of his hat, and slowly shook his head while scratching his temple.

"No… no, you're him. I've seen pictures… you have to be him!"

"Do you know anything about him?"

"Sure… he was a hero."

"Do you know how old he was?"

"Ummm…"

"A few more seconds and you'll realize the man you're speaking with is much to old to be your hero."

And in a couple of moments, there it was - the face of a kid who just got his present taken right from under his nose.

"Oh… yea… I guess you're right."

"Yea, sorry. I actually heard he died a long time ago."

"Wow… that would be a shame. We could really use a guy like that around now with this Shinra crap… and those crazy cultist…. not to mention-

The man kept going on and on about the planets problematic state, but Cloud stopped listening. He was suddenly filled with anger. His heartbeat became a war drum - his skin crawled with heat and itchiness. The man was going on and on and all he wanted him to do was shut the-

Out of nowhere, Cloud moved with a speed you wouldn't have thought possible of an old drunk man like himself. He smashed his right hand into the guys face - sending him crashing to the floor.

"What the HELL man!?" The guy spit out instantly, scrambling back to his feet. Cloud looked dazed, probably more-so than the man he just cracked in the face.

"I uh…" He began disoriented - couldn't find any words. The man just stood there, beat-red face, waiting. Cloud stared for a moment more before finally saying

"Sorry." It sounded more like a question than an apology. "I've uh… got a problem."

"Yea, I'll say… you're an asshole, that's your problem!" The man said, shaking his head and then wandering angrily back to whatever table he came from.

"I've got a problem." Cloud repeated in a low voice, no one but himself could hear. He looked down at the mans hat, which he left on the bar top, then looked at the man himself, debating whether to bring it to him and apologize more thoroughly or not.

Cloud used this moment to take a look around the slums bar. How many people were in here that just saw him deck a civilian? Any Shinra? No… they wouldn't be caught dead in a hole like this. A small, dark box of a room that was barely being held together by four raggedy wooden walls (which, Cloud thought, were kept together more by the wills of the slum-scum that frequented it than the actual architecture). A disgusting bar with a smell to match. Yea, the smell, that was the thing about Midgar, Cloud came to realize. It was a city divided between rich and poor - Shinra and rebels - but no matter where you went, that god damned smell seemed to follow. It was the subtle wiring in this intricate machine that had to maintain some sort of peace and order, or else the whole thing would just implode on itself - taking every rat bastard in it with it. And here he was, possibly sitting in the heart of the machine - the bars that kept the poor happy and stupid and the rich smug and pretentious. After all, they sat in kingdoms compared to the little shack he was in right now. How stupid and weak those poor fools are. The real winner was the Shinra though, of course - quietly reaping benefits from all sides of the spectrum .

And here Cloud sat, in the inner workings of the machine, and all he wanted to do was hurt it a little - just to see it squirm, just to see if maybe he could slow it down. He looked at the shadowy, vague faces of the dozen or so people in the bar. Maybe it was his old head playing tricks on him, but they all seemed to be staring directly at him like a pack of vultures waiting to descend on their kill. He had bad news for them if that was the case. I don't plan on dying. Not here- - not now. Not at least until I can save Tifa. Yea, Tifa. If I can do this one thing before… before the end. If I can finish this task… maybe I can die peacefully. But until then, all you vultures just-

"Fly away." Cloud said out loud.

That's when he saw it. A big fat vulture perched in a shadowy corner of the bar. It was a pitch black silhouette, set against a small window behind it which let in a bit of moonlight - but not much, being as a thunderstorm was having its way outside, shadowing the light for the most part.

All the people in the bar watching him may have been a mental trick he played on himself, but this… thing in the corner of the room had definitely locked its sights onto the old man with a mean right backhand at the bar. Cloud squinted his eyes to get a better look and hoped for a lightning flash outside to help him, but no such light came. He had another idea.

"Hey." He called to the man he had clocked in the face moments before. The man looked up from his dimly lit table with a bit of fear in his face. Was this crazy old man going to start something more? "You forgot you're hat." Cloud said casually, then picked the hat up from the bar top and carefully flung it in the mans direction. It went too high and knocked into the side of the light that hung over his table - sending the glowing dome rocking back towards the corner of the room, and revealing (only for a split-second) a semi-surprised looking, bulky man with slicked-back, black hair.

"Pipe-swinger…" Cloud muttered to himself and dropped his left hand reflexively to his side where his sword was propped up against the bars wall, wrapped carefully in a sheet, but no so much that he couldn't have it ready in a moments notice. He was sixty feet away, but Cloud would swear he could smell that cheap cologne the guy was wearing when they had first met, and Cloud had left him unconscious - and probably ashamed, being as he had been beaten by, and given information to, a man who looked like he should be as old and weak as the bar they both currently sat in. Cloud opened and closed his fists - the thought of going another round with the man had got his blood pumping, and once again, like clockwork, he began to feel alive instead of like some failing engine trapped in a rusty old frame. He almost wanted to thank the man, but decided he would rather avoid speaking to him again if possible. Anything to avoid that cheap cologne.

That's when he heard the voice. That damn voice. The voice that he had been hearing for the last two months on and off. It called to him - it wanted him. It wanted him to come to it, and it was soothing and it was beautiful and it was everything he wasn't. Calm, steady, sure of itself. A glorious masterpiece of a sound, trapped in the hopeless dark well that was his head.

Cloud

It was her, it had to be. No other voice could match that beauty, that grace. It was the girl of his dreams. It was the flower girl that he met so many years ago, and in the brief time he knew her, came to fall in love with her. Not the kind of love a husband and a wife share, but the kind of way you love a close family member, or a dear childhood memory. The kind of love that can't be broken over a fight, or a cheating partner. This was the kind of love that lasted forever, pulling at the tiny strings of your heart every moment of every breath. It was confusing to Cloud, but at the same time, he understood it more clearly than he ever understood anything - including himself. And now, for the last two months, it called to him. She called to him. His love. His flower girl. His dream.

Aeris.

When it called, all he wanted to do was run to it - get close to it - feel the warmth that surely radiated from within it.

But he couldn't. It never told him where it was, it just simply called his name in a haunting yet lovely tone, that warmed his whole body. He would sometimes call her name back, but it didn't matter - there was never an answer. He was beginning to think there never would be. One last cruel joke on his pathetic soul - maybe revenge for running away from the world that once trusted him. Maybe for leaving behind everyone and everything that was ever decent enough to give a shit about him. Maybe this… this was the planets way of getting back at him. If that were true, he didn't think any punishment could have been worse. To hear the voice of sanity and reason… only to realize its miles away and you'll never meet the person on the other end. He would have cried over it if he still had enough emotion in him, but he didn't. He cut all his emotions off a long time ago… for better or for worse, right now he wasn't sure. What he was sure of, was right now the voice was calling him - and that's not what he wanted to hear, being as there was a potential assassin sitting in the shadowy corner of this shithole bar - watching him… waiting for him to make a move.

"Go away Aeris… not now."

And almost on command, the voice disappeared as quickly and magically as it had came, leaving nothing but a soft, echoing residue. Cloud slammed the glass of alcohol, then placed it on the bar top before bending down and picking up his (cloth-covered) sword. If he was going to have to spill blood tonight, so be it. He wished to avoid the situation, but if the moment came where it was his life or the pipe-swingers, there would be no hesitation. He half expected the greasy-looking man in the corner of the bar to stand up and meet him halfway as he carved his path through the disorganized tables and chairs that were ever abundant in places like this. Instead, the man simply sat steadily and calmly in his seat, waiting patiently. A trap? No. The last time they met, the guy was alone - Cloud suspected this time would be no different. This scum was a solo act. Half the reason probably being he was a pain in the ass to work with, the other half probably because no one wanted to put up with his stench. The stench, Cloud noticed, only became thicker and more disgusting as he closed the gap.

Only feet away now, his heart picked up pace as the thought of battle became more and more clear in his head. There would be no questioning this time, he had gotten all the answers the man would give in their last run in. His only concern were these civilians. One had been sure of himself that this man was the hero of days passed - which he skillfully avoided. Once the fight began, there would be no doubtful minds in the room. He was Cloud, and he wasn't sure how they would react upon discovering that fact. Didn't matter… not now at least. If it came down to it, he would fight them all before surrendering to their interrogations and their pleads. Help wasn't coming - the sooner they learned that, the better off they were.

When he was only four feet or so away from the pipe-swingers makeshift stakeout spot, the door to the bar burst open - letting in the harsh sounds of the raging storm outside. A couple drunks jeered and booed, yelling at whoever had opened the gates to hell to shut them again. Whoever it was, they slammed the doors shut before calling out-

"Cloud!?"

Cloud stopped moving. He didn't turn his head towards the voice, but was certainly listening intently. If he was a dog, his ear would be stiffened backwards in concentration.

"Is Cloud Strife here!?" The voice pleaded.

"Cloud… I KNEW it was him! What'd I tell ya! Didn't I tell ya it was him!" Cloud recognized the second voice. The damned guy that, only moments ago, he had convinced that Cloud Strife was dead and gone. "He just walked over there."

Cloud felt a finger pointing in his direction, followed by every pair of eyes in the room landing on the back of his neck, except, of course, the pipe-swinger who still sat calmly in front of him. Cloud wasn't sure, being as it was a dark corner of the room, but he thought he could see the man grinning with amusement over the situation.

"Cloud?" The voice called to him. When it received no answer it continued. "Cloud, please. The rebellion needs your help… Marlene needs your help."

Cloud turned to face the voice that just announced to the entire bar (including the pipe-swinger) that he was tied to the rebellion in some way. The person before him matched the voice well. A kid, no older than eighteen, with raggedy clothes and dark skin stood staring at him with hopeful, yet tired, eyes. He wore a short sword slung low on the left side of his hip. Strapped to his right ankle was a small pistol. A rebel through and through.

Cloud studied him another moment more before strolling over to him, leaving the pipe-swinger be for the time being. He saw the look of surprise and excitement fall over the boys face as he stepped from the shadows into the better-lit portion of the bar. Once again, he could feel every intoxicated eye in the joint land on him with pretty much the same feelings. These were the poor in here - the lowest of the low - and to see a hero… a shimmer of hope in their dark spiral of nothingness, gave every last one of them a warm feeling inside.

That's too bad. Cloud thought as the inevitable bar chatter began to fill the entire room. I'm not here for you… any of you, in fact.

"Lets step outside for a bit kid." Cloud said as he came to a stop in front of the black teenager. The kid nodded, giving a thoughtful glance around the room before turning and pulling the door open.

Before Cloud left, the entire bar had something to say. Most of it was just scattered pleads and questions - but some of it was just plain anger. A few people cursed at him and a smaller number even looked like they were going to throw something. The shock of seeing the hero had quickly worn off, and whatever emotions were left - Cloud didn't want to bother to stick around and deal with. It amazed him that he could be so loved and so hated at the same time. Two faces to every man, he supposed. If they wanted to show their hate side, so be it. All the easier for him to ignore their begging.

"Cloud." The kid began as Cloud pulled the door shut, and they both stood huddled under the short awning of the bar - their only protection from the fierce winds and heavy rains that were all around them. A booming crack of thunder was heard somewhere far off, followed by a thin strip of lightning a few seconds later. "The Shinra… they attacked the camp, sir. Marlene… the robes took her!"

"Calm down. First, what's your name?"

"Loeb, sir."

"Well, don't address me as sir, Loeb. Makes me feel even older than I look."

"Yes s-" He cut himself off quickly.

"Secondly, what do you mean the robes took Marlene? Is that some sort of Shinra higher-ups group?"

"No, no. The robes, you know? The… cultists. The Cetra-wannabe's. The-

Loeb continued telling him names of the robes, but cultists was all Cloud needed. The moment he heard the word something cold landed in the depths of his stomach, and his entire body tightened. He didn't know why, but for some reason the thought of the cult that worshipped his archenemy made him feel an emotion he hadn't felt in a long time.

Fear.

It wasn't the kind of fear that you had when you were a kid - the fear that something was going to come out of your closet at night when all the lights had gone dark, and your mom was miles (rooms) away. No, it was more like the impending feeling of dread… and doom. Like you knew the monster was slowly coming out of the closet, but you were at your friends house and couldn't reach the door in time to shut it. Like a black cloud that was slowly moving in with a warm breeze - a silent assassin waiting to take away the suns shine and leave your day in the rain. If Midgar in fact did have a heart, the cult was the icy-cold hand that was ever so slowly closing around it.

"Cloud?"

Cloud forced his un-focused line of vision back to Loeb from the spot of nothing it faded off into.

"Yea." Was all he could muster.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Well," He began, ignoring the fact he hadn't heard whatever Loeb was talking about. "I think we need to talk."