Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no money from this work. Anything recognizable to the Final Fantasy VII series and its associated parts belongs to Square Enix and affiliated companies.

Green Dreams

Chapter Thirteen: Summoners Be Warned

It was the second week now that he had woken in these barracks, and the disorienting feeling of shock when realizing he wasn't in his cabin had finally begun to really disappear. Cloud got up and started with his morning exercises on automatic. His body had taken to the routine fairly quickly, which was something Cloud took advantage of now. He had to remind himself to focus on the positives and not think about his old strength or weapons as he went through the repetitive motions. It was a test of will though, because for every daydream about hacking Hojo into a million pieces, Cloud was bombarded by comparisons if himself to "before".

The blond relaxed back onto the floor and stretched his tense muscles, letting go of that train of thought. Even after hanging out with Zack yesterday, he was still more tightly wound than usual, and he could feel every string in his body pull tauter than before. Even just that small thought that he was a bundle of potential power, albeit not as powerful as he was before, thrilled him a little. Any progress was progress, as Shinra said.

Cloud turned his head to the side and lowered his legs to lie completely on the floor, just breathing as he gave his tired muscles a breather. He would shower later. The trafficked dirt and dust on the floor was hardly any worse than him lying on the rough desert sand.

He stared blankly at someone's overturned shoes that had slid partway under the bed and were just peeking out. Cloud's eyes mindlessly traced the grooves of the boot, glimpsing over the green gum stuck on the bottom and lingering a little on the peeling sole at the toe. The boy on the bed above it snorted and rolled over, and Cloud smoothly stood back up into a standing position, shaking his head once to clear some of the fog that had fallen over it.

Across the compound and considerably higher up, Sephiroth steadily stared out at the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows that graced his dining room, his face blank but eyes thoughtful. The windows were set high above the fields below him, and higher still because his apartment was on the plate. From this angle, the ocean's abundance was clear, the desert between him and it vast and hazy.

Sephiroth's eyes were trained on the foaming waves he could just make out in the distance, with all their riotous and powerful majesty on display. His mind was blissfully blank, free from numbers and names or benign words and maps floating through. It was a state of mind he only seemed able to find in the early mornings, when even the sun was not awake.

The sun had dawned now though and had begun its steady climb upwards, cresting over the ocean and shattering the blue with a dazzling light display of pearly oranges shading into deep pinks and reds. The colors washed over Sephiroth's pale frame, falling dead upon his strict black work pants and white button-up top, but his loosened hair glistening iridescently.

Sephiroth turned away from the beauty of the sunrise and padded around the counter bordering the dining room and round to the other side of the kitchen. The fine wooden cabinets were raised above the black granite counter top. The surface of the counter was wiped clean, the subtle designs within the stone visible to Sephiroth's sharp eyes. The crockery was all tucked away neatly in the cupboards, the various appliances positioned throughout the large area. Sephiroth crossed to the dishwasher, ignoring his chilled feet on the tiled floor. The large refrigerator was the only thing making noise in the kitchen, the hulking stainless steel giant humming quietly into the silence. The sink adjacent to it had a single plant resting on the edge, a yet un-bloomed thistle plant Zack had left with him.

His breakfast was simple and quick, a part of his morning that invariably never changed. He woke early, always before dawn, and set himself a cup of steaming coffee to drink. One cup was all he needed, his system already starting up more quickly than any human's. It was why he was up before dawn too, since four hours of sleep was enough to keep him going. With disdain he thought to the survival week he went through when he joined SOLDIER—it had been a breeze.

Some nights were like this, full of circling thoughts pecking at him like vultures on a corpse. When he woke, he lounged on the couch, cup in hand, watching the play of light on the wall and just clearing his mind of the annoying repetition. Other times, days where sleep came more fitfully or not at all, disturbed by horrid memories, he stood on the cool marble of his bathroom floor and scrutinized himself in the mirror, staring at his distinctive eyes the most, and tracing the barest hint of scars. Most days though, inevitably the ones full of work and training, he found himself standing in the unused dining room staring at the ocean, a place that held it's secrets close.

Sephiroth set a full kettle of water on the stove and turned up the heat. He then turned to the sink and washed out his simple white coffee mug, his eyes never straying from the task. He smoothly pulled the mug out from under the water, placing it back into the cabinet in front of the various bright, spotted, worded and colored ones Zack had given him over the years. He had never used them, but he hadn't thrown them out either.

He felt the waves of heat from the stove across the island, could hear the starting bubbles as the water began to boil. Sephiroth's back shivered at the quiet caress of the steam, and he crossed the kitchen, turning off the heat and pulling down another plain cup as he moved. Gracefully he lifted the steel kettle catching it before the whistle, a trick he had picked up to avoid the ear-splitting noise. Not a drop fell on to the counter as he poured a cup and slipped the tea bag into the simmering liquid. Done, he left the kitchen with his tea and returned to the bedroom to change.

Sephiroth quickly finished dressing and sipped the last of his tea. He rubbed his hands down his slacks one last time and washed the cup out in the kitchen before heading into the living area to get Masamune. He strapped the massive sword on to his back, pulled on his leather gloves, and stepped out of his apartment a moment later. He locked the door behind him as he left, pocketing the keys in the upper left pocket of his jacket. He only wore the leather assemble for special practices and addresses to the entire army, not for paperwork. He left silently through the modern building and across the courtyard, past the three-dimensional Shinra logo complete with fountain, and into Shinra Headquarters. The guard at the front desk sleepily saluted him as he passed. The General only nodded.

There was no time that Shinra HQ was not busy, but the early morning was the quietest. Nightshift workers scurried about, their shoes scuffing on the floor and the rolling squeaks of janitors' carts echoed in the corridors. The copy room was at its emptiest; the employees working quietly in their identical offices were held together only by their fourth cup of coffee and a persistent case of insomnia.

The General's floor was deserted. His three Lieutenant Generals were never here this early. There was an en-mass belief that First Class SOLDIERs were able to slack off, and Zack perpetuated that. It probably encouraged the greener SOLDIERs and disappointed the veterans. Zack was his SOLDIER Lieutenant General, and he only rose at dawn for a mission or battle—anything less, in his words, wasn't worth his time. The other two were regulation army men and more managers than soldiers. They too took advantage of extra sleep.

Sephiroth stepped into his office, setting Masamune on its horizontal stand against the right wall. He never really liked the way it looked in his office, making it appear more of a ceremonial sword than the partner that it was. The stand in his apartment was hand-carved in Wutai and probably worth more than some men's lives. Few things had his wealth showered on them by Sephiroth, and Masamune was it.

After positioning Masamune safely, his jacket was slipped off and draped on the back of his chair. There was a stack of paper work left over from yesterday still waiting patiently on his desk for his signature, and so he drew out the moment of contemplation, adjusting the cuffs of his button-up white shirt and straightening out his slacks. Sometimes he wondered what people would think if they knew their strict General could be such a procrastinator at times.

His eyes hardly passed over the books in the shelves and his ears barely picked up the silent thrum of the air conditioner above the far window. This room was as familiar to him as his own bedroom, and a sanctuary of its own kind. Rufus had only dropped by here once, and had immediately understood that under no uncertain terms that this was the General's territory. Although Sephiroth's manners might have been coldly cordial, it was made very clear early on in the exchange that this was not the safest spot to launch attacks, nor take direct hits. The President's son had never come back.

Sephiroth's eyes fell on the paperwork and a great feeling of annoyance washed over him. He didn't feel like looking through it, his eyes already complaining before he had even offered more than a glance. Instead, he settled into his chair and swiveled to look at the blank computer screen, contemplating what to do. The paperwork would have to be done eventually, but that didn't mean he couldn't do something quick before hand.

He turned on the computer, examining the Shinra logo that greeted him on the opening page. The one outside in the fountain was a cube, but here on screen it was the traditional flat, four-sided diamond painted a vibrant red with two characters spelling Shinra in the center. It was a symbol of desired association and awe, at least to those not a part of Shinra, although many of the younger recruits wore it proudly on their uniforms. The novelty wore off after the first kill done in its name though.

The image disappeared and the computer greeted him with his desktop, a colorless abstract swath behind his icons. His fingers flew over the keyboard easily in well-practiced, precise strokes as he scanned through recently touched documents of his subordinates. Most were mission reports, some files on various places. Zack had done hardly anything in weeks, skimping out by doing anything but the minimum of his paperwork and escaping to train or hang out with Cloud Strife.

Speaking of Strife…

Sephiroth pulled up the cadet charts, running through recent grade history and other notes made by the instructors. Hale had made a comment about Cloud in his materia class, expounding on the amazing blast of energy the blond had created. Enough force to melt the door apparently. Sephiroth assumed the man was exaggerating, excited at the idea of any capable materia user in the cadet group. That was what he got for almost deserting the army back in Wutai.

Still, any magic on the part of a cadet was more than what most achieved, and Cloud being able to damage a door was quite impressive, if suspicious. It was a serious indication of skill at the least, but Sephiroth was leaning towards more of a natural affinity for magic. It was unusual nonetheless, no matter the explanation, and he made a note to ask if Zack had been working with him on it. Even though that might not explain this sudden burst of energy, seeing as Zack wasn't a particularly strong magic user.

Deciding it was a matter for another time, Sephiroth clicked on Cloud's name, opening up his profile. There was the same picture; his stubborn look of teenage defiance and hair jutting up wildly. Sephiroth looked at it amused for a moment before scanning down the rest of it. He was of a slightly smaller stature as he had noticed before, and at first glance not anyone of any real interest. Fatherless, it seemed, and young. In fact he was only… seventeen.

As of yesterday no less.

It was odd of Zack not to have mentioned it. Or at least tried to prepare some massively embarrassing birthday party and somehow managing to wrangle him into signing a birthday card. Had Zack not known? Surely Cloud would have mentioned it.

…Or, maybe he might not. The blond was terribly quiet and closed-mouthed about himself from Zack's accounts.

Zack was frustrated by Cloud, he knew, though the First hid it behind good cheer. The SOLDIER's stubbornness and experience with other tight-lipped people was probably the only reason he even bothered. That, and Zack had shared with him that he felt a kinship with Cloud.

A third possibility came to him; that Zack could have simply not told him about the birthday. The man wasn't obligated to say everything on his mind, and he surely didn't, so maybe this thought hadn't come out of his mouth as well. But still, if he did know, why omit?

Sephiroth lingered over the birth date a little longer, the date inconspicuous enough. August nineteenth… Maybe Cloud had just felt rude bringing it up.

He dismissed the thought, resolving to mention it to Zack and see if the other man knew anything.

The rest of the profile was more basic information. Cloud's test scores had ranged fairly low earlier in the year, along with his physical marks, but those were lifting now. Zack's training must be doing him some good, even though the black-haired man hadn't mentioned any book study. Perhaps that or Cloud had just gotten even more motivated from his encounter with Zack.

Sephiroth closed the profile after a moment, setting aside his wandering thoughts. He had plenty of time to think about the enigma of Cloud Strife later. Paperwork was calling now.

The barracks were emptying as the cadets drowsily made their way to breakfast. The alarm had gone off, and Cloud had waited seated on his bunk for it like he did every morning. Reno and Dan were slow to rise, though once Dan was up he was awake and bouncing all day. Today he was unmatched in enthusiasm since it was Monday, and Monday was materia day.

"…and then I saw this play once where the main character jumps right out of bed and–"

"Argh, shut up already!" The shirt he was pulling over his head muffled Reno's yell, but it was loud enough to jar Dan to silence. Dan had been going non-stop for the last couple of minutes, which was probably why the room had been vacated so quickly, and Cloud was thankful for the break. A couple of boys still lingered, but the blond hardly gave them a glance.

"Can't be quiet, can he?" Reno was hopping on one foot now, yanking on his military boot and trying to tie it at the same time. Dan had moved off to the other side of the room, probably to engage the last two boys in conversation. Cloud couldn't hear what they were saying over Reno's shouts and cursing as he fell backwards, losing his balance and smacking his head against the wooden frame of the bed.

"Damnit! The hell are you looking so happy for?" Reno's fierce accusation was met by a momentary downturn of Dan's lips before the boy put a smile back on his face. He knew Reno was just taking out his anger on him.

Dan pranced to the door and turned back to Cloud. "Let's go to breakfast, Cloud. He can catch up." With that parting comment he hopped out the door and down the hallway, half-jogging half-walking. Cloud could hear the uneven sound of his boots hitting the floor. After a moment, the blond followed. Reno snapped his belt on and strode after him.

In breakfast things were relatively silent. Reno chewed loudly and Dan only made comments about the food, all positive, to which neither replied. Their table was empty save for them as usual, and no one was bothered by it.

Cloud was the first to finish since he had eaten the least. One slice of a toast and a banana was all he really needed to get going. His system had grown used to living off a limited food supply, and even if this body wasn't the same, his mind told his stomach when it was full.

"Wait up Cloud. We can head to class together." Dan's blatant following won him a nasty look from Reno. The blond could only imagine what the redhead thought of Dan's dependency.

"I'm not going to class." Dan's face fell as he absorbed the words, looking a little puzzled at the same time. This was probably something he hadn't quite expected from Cloud. Reno, on the other hand, almost looked triumphant.

"I'll skip with you, since last night you up and vanished and–"

"No." It was final. Cloud was finding that teenage friendships had serious disadvantages at times.

Reno's mouth closed in surprise. "Then when am I gonna see you?"

"Later. Tonight maybe."

Dan had become an audience to this second conversation that to him had somehow sprung from his own. His head moved to each speaker, watching them attentively. Nonetheless their eyes were conveying a lot of things: Cloud's mostly annoyance and irritation, Reno's reflecting anger and suspicious curiosity. Dan pressed his knuckle to his upper lip, drawing it between his teeth to nibble at awkwardly. Things had tensed up between them as he considered the way both seemed taller than him in this moment. He chewed a little harder on his lip as he realized how disconnected he was suddenly from them, as if he were a child before two adults.

The teeth dragging down on his flesh made a sudden cut, the heat and shock jump-started his system. He spat out the blood on the floor and the tension broke at his actions when they both glanced over at him. Some part of him was pleased at that. Reno's face was disgusted; Cloud's perfectly blank.

Cloud turned his back on them after a beat and walked out. He was among the first to leave, but no one watched the blond go but him and Reno. Reno's eyes were trained on his back, obviously considering following him.

Well, Cloud clearly needed some space, especially after yesterday. His friend had some issues, and he probably didn't want a blabbermouth like Reno to spread word of what bothered him. Maybe someone said something, or he messed up in class. It would be like Cloud to take that personally, and Dan had liked that other, younger side of Cloud. So he had tried to coax it out, through friendliness and being open with him. Cloud resisted, but Dan was determined to find some of that quieter and kinder Cloud.

And so, when Cloud had his problems yesterday, Dan knew that another side of Cloud was coming through to hide the soft side. He just had to wait for the defense to fade, but Reno hadn't understood. Dan tried to be a good friend to Cloud, but Reno got in the way more than helped, and he certainly just made things worse. He turned to Reno as the thought occurred to him. "You cut class and I'll tell Hale. He'll have your hide then."

Reno sneered at him, picking up his tray and dumping it a little more roughly than intended. "You gonna tattle on Cloud too?"

"No, just you." Dan smiled sweetly at Reno, knowing it would set the redhead off.

Reno shot him the darkest glare he had. He knew he was caught though. "I'm gonna blast your ass or freeze it off, bastard."

Dan just smiled at the threat, clearly amused with Reno's inaptitude with materia. "It's called Shell, idiot."

The empty room Cloud had slipped into was a traditional materia practice room. It was a square box with thick plastic from floor to ceiling to trap lightening magic. There was a ledge on the left side to stand on, leaving an eight-square-foot area open for balls and small explosions of magic.

Cloud had picked this particular one because of its location. The room was just beyond an intersection and across from a janitorial closet. It was often overlooked since the other materia practice rooms were around the corner and generally larger. He'd found it long ago when he was first there, though it had been a hideout from the bullies hoping to catch him on the way to meals. Later on he'd come back, just to take a look at the ruin of something from his childhood, only to find a huge, mako-altered wolf in it. Cloud had killed it, wondering if something else had died in this room before because of the simply horrendous smell. It was strange that after all these years that smell had stuck with him.

He shook off the thought and couldn't help but smirk as something else occurred to him. He was turning into Vincent; lurking around buildings, brooding on past grievances, avoiding human contact. At least he could pass it off as teenage angst, unlike Vincent who still looked twenty-seven physically but was pushing past middle-aged.

Well, as a teenager, he certainly had never stolen expensive materia before. There was a first for everything though. Cloud moved to one of the corners on the elevated ledge next to the wall, pulling out the stolen materia from his boot. If there was one thing Yuffie had taught him, it was how to nab and conceal materia. The supply closet with the basic materia in it was laughably easy to get into. He'd grabbed one of each kind and gotten out without being seen.

The whole room had been begging to be robbed. The glow was visible from under the door and the lock had punch-in numbers on it that were worn down from being pressed so many times. Three different combinations and Cloud was in. The whole closet was shelved from floor to ceiling, every shelf covered in what looked like the biggest marble collection in the world.

The ones he'd taken had a good amount of experience built up, but nothing too noticeable that people would realize they were gone. Attention was the very last thing he wanted. He picked one up from the pile and rolled it in his palm. He was almost afraid to try the materia, unsure of what could happen. Was he closer to the Planet since it had sent him back here, and that was why he now had this ability with magic? Should he try to contact the Planet again? Or had that burst been just a freak accident?

He hadn't even thought to ask Aeris, and now that seemed rather stupid since the melting-door incident had been so recent. He'd been so wound up it hadn't even occurred to him.

He tilted his head to the side, rolling an Earth materia in his hands. This one wasn't for practice, since Quake was dangerous to use inside a building. The result probably would have been funny though. He could imagine Shinra executives running around, worried about the plate falling in and trying to find a way to get the obese President to safety. The image was satisfying, even if he couldn't act on it. The more powerful materia, like the Ultima and Comet he'd once had all had to be manipulated in the desert for practice. And that was strictly for SOLDIERs. Only SOLDIERs had clearance to destroy large expanses of land. The regulation army was only given the basic elemental materia and these tiny rooms to practice in.

I wonder if I could melt the reinforced walls…

The one in his hand was bright green, with a white core pulsating slowly. The green was speckled with bits of darker coloration all the way to black. The shapes and colors were constantly changing, rotating on an invisible axis. It was as dazzling as staring into a fire. Before he knew it, the ground shifted slightly beneath him. The finest of cracks started from where he was seated, rippling outward to the wall before falling dead.

He squeaked suddenly and uncharacteristically, dropping the materia and groping for another. He was so surprised by the even the mild shaking he hadn't even considered anything but making it stop. It was silly, and he leaned down to pick up the dropped materia that had rolled a little away, relaxing as he did so. He'd been admiring the power in his hand, the barest thought of using it flickering across his mind, and the ground had begun to rumble. If just by holding it the magic had become attuned to him, enough to sense cadences in his will, what would he be like when he wanted to blow stuff up? and that realization scared him a little.

Well, his question was answered at least. His magic was more powerful. Enough that he could activate a materia without going through a medium like a bracer as was normal.

Weapons, armor, almost all of it had slots for materia that channeled the magic to help the wielder more easily use it. The fact that Cloud was doing magic without that was a testament to this new enhancement. Unless the user was highly skilled, it was almost a requirement to equip it. Aeris had been the only one in the group who could use a typical materia without it from almost the start. Red XIII and Yuffie had achieved that level with a lot of work, and only with lower level materia.

He couldn't help the small smile that came on to his face, even though this smugness was rather new to him. It looked like he wasn't without some advantages after all. Cloud tucked the Earth into his pocket and pulled out the Ice. With careful precision he held it out in his hand, extending his arm away from his body. The materia fit perfectly into the palm of his hand, his fingers clenching around the rounded exterior. He could almost feel the movement, like it was breathing quietly in his hand, a sensation he had never felt before. The roiling waves inside it were moving against his hand like an invisible liquid.

He would've smiled stupidly at the sheer awesomeness of the feeling, but the weight of what it meant was enough to ruin it. This was a piece of the Planet itself, a bit of its soul. Did anyone realize what power these little balls of light held?

He would have to see Aeris again, find out what this was all about. He rolled the materia in his hand again, admiring the glimmer through his fingers. He tapped it with his nail, hearing the hollowness of the sound, a fine clear note.

Concentrating, Cloud envisioned a blizzard filling the room, shards of ice flying in a tight circle, freezing wind biting his skin. The more detail added to the image the better the result. He focused that will into the materia, telling it to make what he saw happen. A cloud of white wind started up first, spinning counterclockwise with ever-gaining speed. As it spun faster and faster the ice in the wind condensed, forming sharp blades that whirled threateningly. As the power built, Cloud could feel his hands burning, his fingers gripping the materia tightly as he controlled the element, this raw force of nature.

It was the most amazing feeling, enthralling and gripping. He could feel the temperature dropping in the room; see the condensation building up on the walls. The floor was littered with flecks of snow; his whole body was exhilarated with the sudden cold. There was so much energy thrumming in the room that the hair on his arms was standing on end, his spine on fire from shivers from both the cold and the power rush. Was this what it felt like to be Shiva, the Queen of Ice? Or a summon?

His eyes were watering, lips chapping, and fingers bloodless, but he wouldn't let go. No wonder summons hated to be in materia, no wonder they always seemed so angry, so defiant and proud when released. This kind of power confined? Cloud wanted to laugh, but his throat was tightly shut, the cold burning into his face and whipping snow into his lashes.

The vortex continued to circle with increasing fervor, the storm he was creating howled like a wounded animal, the shards beating against the invisible walls of space Cloud's will alone was holding it to. This awesome storm was like a Nibelheim blizzard packed into a closet-sized room, powerful and wild, writhing in its torrent, and Cloud alone controlled it.

He might have kept it up for hours, though likely it had been ten very long seconds, but finally the strength and danger of the storm began to register. Every detail fell back into sharp relief when one bladed shard cut the edge of his face, catching right under his left eye. The pain knocked everything back into place, the first thing being that he was not a god, and this was not normal.

Fear returned to him, and the danger of where he was sitting, what power he was staring in the face came to him. He dropped the materia, and the wind flew into a greater rage, howling in all its ferocity, and he wondered if maybe this was some kind of summoning, that he let something out. Cloud scrambled back, feeling the first stings of panic. He dug into his pockets desperately, his hands shaking from the cold and adrenaline. Where was that fire materia?

But even as he felt himself up and down for it, the blizzard before him had begun to slow, the howling of the wind dying off. The energy seemed to drain away, dissipating back into the atmosphere. Cloud's heart was flying in his chest as the last shreds of the violent storm trickled to the floor, the snowflakes fluttering like leaves. He couldn't seem to draw a deep breath or take his eyes away from what he had just done.

Cloud sat back, wiping the back of his neck as he just realized how hot he had become. The cut on his face was beaded with blood and he might have a windburn on his cheeks. His hair was wildly messed up, flung in all directions and dripping with snow. One cold droplet slipped down the back of his collar, and he felt the whole thing tingle down his back, like a great shudder of wings.

He leaned back against the wall, sagging as he rested. The Planet had given him something that even the mako he had before couldn't match. What exactly it was he wasn't sure, but powerful magic was all he really needed to know. That, and to be very careful when using it.

"…Thank you."

It was breathy, it was barely even a voice in the room, but he had meant the words with his whole heart. Mako had given him back the edge in battle, even over SOLDIERs. This could be decisive in a victory over a greater number of enemies or a stronger foe. He gave a tired smirk to the empty room, pleased even as he tried to get his breath back.

The door was thrown open dramatically and with enough force to rattle the paintings off the walls of the adjacent room. Sephiroth had installed a rubbed doorstopper when Zack was elevated to Lieutenant General specifically to stop that. As it was, Zack's entrance was met with the resounding bang and rebound of the door, which knocked him squarely in the nose.

"Happy Monday to you Seph." Zack had two fingers clutching his nose, his voice scrunched up as he spoke around it. It hadn't taken any color out of his enthusiasm, but it had startled him enough to cut him off for the moment. After a beat, the SOLDIER trooped into the office and slouched ungracefully in the chair opposite the General's desk. There was never any formality, no salute or offer to run and get coffee. Zack had long given up on even trying, seeing as how his relationship with Sephiroth ran deeper than just co-workers.

They were friends.

That didn't stop Sephiroth from giving Zack a hard glare for good measure. Friends or not, some things would never change. Sephiroth refused to look away, meeting Zack's eyes with his unrelenting bright stare, holding it until Zack's eyes flickered away. He'd been thinking about it, and it was really bothering him:

"Did you know it was Strife's birthday yesterday?"