Warnings: Language, Mention of torture but nothing graphic
Chapter 10 : Bird on a Wire
They were in Dr. Imeera's office waiting for the final diagnosis, or as close as the doctors could get to knowing what was wrong with Cloud, and Zack couldn't sit still. He was doing squats; his old stress-relieving, time-wasting, stand-by. It didn't stop his mind from churning. Something was off. Cloud had pulled out his wings in a major display of temper and all they did was 'ooh' and 'aww' and then act like it was no big deal.
They'd managed to talk Zack and Cloud into letting them run the test, repeating that it was SOP for any fighter suspected of hosting Jenova cells. They'd been fascinated by the results. Apparently neither one of them had reacted right, and the medics had all walked away in a white-coated mass babbling about 'mutations' and 'immunities' and 'nullifications'.
No explanations just that fucking annoying word 'fascinating'.
"What if they want ... to do more tests?" He talked out his thoughts, "Sense materia ... was great but what if ... they want samples? ... Do we let them put ... needles in us? ... What if they want to ... cut pieces of our skin ... or something? ... D'you think Seph would ... forgive me if I levelled ... the medical tent and ... killed all the staff?"
"I might be a little miffed," said a firm, female voice from the back corner of the room. She'd barely started talking before Zack had drawn his Buster and assumed a defensive stance in front of Cloud. It took him a moment to register who had come in through a side entrance. It took another moment to realize that she wasn't exactly an enemy, despite the white coat.
Dr. Imeera froze hands up, presenting as little threat as possible. It didn't help Zack calm down to realize that the doctor was staring beyond him. Cloud still had his wings out and Zack knew the blond had reacted to his reaction by doing the whole threat display thing again. The other lab guy had been equally as fascinated.
"S'okay, Spike," he said to reassure his friend and convince himself. He pulled out of the stance and forced himself to sheath his Buster. "Doc's not going to do us any harm." He shook out his arms a little to get rid of the residual tension. "Not a good idea to sneak up on us, Doc," he got his voice to sound nicely casual.
"I didn't realize I was sneaking." She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She was an experienced physician and she recovered quickly. It wasn't the first time a patient had had a bad reaction around her and it wouldn't be the last. She moved to her table and sat down. She waved Zack to the chairs across from hers and, after carefully lowering Cloud into one so that his wings didn't get crushed, he sat in the other, leaning forward and clasping his hands.
"So what do you know of mako," she asked as an opening. Her tone, one of impersonal professionalism, made him grind his teeth, so his response came out a little harsher than it might have.
"I know that it hurts like fuck when it's injected into your muscles, even in its diluted SOLDIER form. I know that in its pure state it causes the muscles to convulse so much it rips the tendons off the bone. I know that repeated injections cause the veins to rupture," he leaned back obnoxiously. "Ingesting it causes crystals to form in your stomach acid which are sharp enough to slice open the intestines leading to bleeding and colitis. I know that immersion in even diluted amounts of it cause hallucinations and psychotic episodes. Should I continue?" He knew he sounded bitter. He couldn't care. Three years of Hojo...
He wanted to break something. He squeezed his hands together, grinding the bones until they hurt. Softly, a long feather reached out and stroked his arm. It fluttered over his hands, blowing a gentle breeze. With a snort, he released his clenching hands and used his fingertips to stroke the feathers presented.
"How long did they know what was going on, Doc? How long did ShinRa let Hojo play?" He answered himself, "At least thirty because that's how old Sephiroth is. And for what? What the fuck did Hojo ever do that was so great?"
"Ngghh," it almost sounded like Cloud was agreeing with him.
At least Dr. Imeera looked ashamed. She had to have known, or at least suspected, that all wasn't right in the Science Department. "We've recently come to the conclusion that much of what Hojo did was, was less than ethical—"
Zack snorted derisively.
She didn't look away from him. He could give her points for that. "I can't offer any excuse, except to say that he had the trust of the most powerful man in the world." She cleared her throat, "Whatever we may feel about what happened in the past, we are here to try and help your friend. When I asked the question, I was asking what you knew about mako in general; where it comes from, the difference between addiction and poisoning."
"Materia and mako are the same thing just in different forms. Materia's concentrated so it has more power than mako. Mako was combined with other things to make street drugs, extremely addictive but not directly lethal. I know some SOLDIER candidates had bad reactions to the test injection and were taken out of the program. I assume they had something like mako poisoning." He stopped. He could've said more but it would have just been bitter, unhelpful ranting. Gods! Every time he turned around, the rage rose inside him. It made him feel crazed and out of control and he hated it.
Fuck appearances, he decided, and scooped up his winged friend and plopped him in his lap where he could hold and stroke, sooth and be soothed. It was better than ripping her clinical fucking head off...
"That's actually more than most people know." She'd blinked at his abrupt action but didn't comment. "One thing we've learned from various sources is that mako and materia are the Lifestream in non-gaseous form."
Zack snorted, "Lifestream? That's religion not science."
"Or maybe it's magic, like your friend's wings." She nodded at Cloud and Zack shifted, disliking any interest shown in his friend. "Nothing else explains where the SOLDIER First Classes put these," she waved her hand at the Corporal, "additions when they're not being used.
"Wait, what?" Zack's mouth fell open, "other Firsts have wings, not just Sephiroth?" It felt like a ten tonne weight had just fallen on him.
"Wings are the most common," she answered, "but some have claws instead of fingers and toes. And then there's Lieutenant Luxiere's... tentacles. Science doesn't explain where those go. Your lack of, um, alternate limbs is actually rather rare considering how long you've been a First Class."
Zack ignored her in favour of trying to take in the other stuff; wings, claws and shit... Luxiere... oily, creepy, Luxiere had tentacles? Those messages he used to send to Zack had made the First feel all weirded out, but what the fuck...?
"Didn't the General tell you," she asked, finally managing to break into his thoughts.
"Tell? No, no. I think... I think he started a couple times but," this time he shrugged, "he got interrupted. That's why Kunsel didn't..." Why Kunsel didn't accept the promotion to First Class—he didn't want to risk developing tentacles. Well, who would? Who'd want to develop any of that stuff?
"It's possibly a side-effect of the Jenova virus. The General has identified all the First's additions—"
"Mutations," he corrected; might as well call a cow a cow.
She glared at him but he just looked stonily back. "Alright, yes, the mutations, as things he saw on the body of Jenova in the reactor, so it would make sense that it would be caused by the Jenova cells the Firsts received but science doesn't explain where they go when they're not on display or being used."
"Magic."
She nodded decisively, "Magic."
"Ggghh," it was a question.
"Yeah, other people have wings too." He snorted in disbelief, "Fuck, tentacles." He couldn't stop thinking about that, imagining what it would be like...
"He's quite fast on them, and he can use them to cross small bodies of water, but they are quite disturbing to see."
"I can imagine," Zack agreed dryly. He couldn't help but think that he and Cloud didn't have it so bad after all.
"Ggggh." A different question, accompanied by a poke in the shins by strong primary feathers.
"Aaah, I'll think about it," Zack replied evasively. Dr. Imeera was looking at him strangely. "He just wanted to know if it was okay to keep his wings out now. We always had to hide them before." Buy the lie, he prayed, buy the lie, Doc.
"Well his wings may not be completely unique but that certainly is. He should be completely unresponsive in every aspect of his, his being and yet he does that with his wings," she waved her hands in their direction before setting them back in front of her, neatly clasped. "And so we return to the point of this meeting. Your friend and his odd reaction to the mako overdose he received."
"Ah, yes. That," his tone was resigned, "I suppose it's better than discussing tentacles."
A shake of the wings seemed to agree with him.
"Are you done?" Vincent's voice growled into the silence making Tifa jump a little.
Sam had left with his boxes ages ago, and they had settled into a quiet work routine. Well, Vincent was very silent and Tifa mostly was although, every so often, she'd jump up and leave the tiny space. The first time she'd done that, Vincent had followed only to see her moving through her katas. Since he'd figured she was working out stress caused by whatever she'd read, he had left her alone, but he couldn't help but notice that she was very, very good. Their sparring session tomorrow would probably be more challenging than he'd originally thought. She might actually manage to hurt the former Turk.
He wasn't the only one looking forward to the contest.
"Just about, a couple more folders to search," she answered. They'd found a few reports, some fragmented data files and a few second-hand journal entries, but that was it. There was such a... a lack of entries on or by Dr. Crescent that they'd speculated about a deliberate campaign by Dr. Hojo to wipe all of his wife's work from the system; to erase her in effect. "You've finished with the journals?"
"As much as possible given the limited time. It might be advisable to make a more thorough examination of them." An examination performed by someone with more patience. Deciphering the mess those people called 'writing' had all his inner beasts growling in disgust.
"Oh Goddess!" Tifa called out then covered her mouth with one shaky hand. She turned large eyes to the gunman.
"You found something," he asked calmly, ignoring the clamouring of his beasts as they were further stimulated by her obvious panic.
She dropped her hand, "Um, yeah, but," she paused, blinking at him in sympathy. Why sympathy, he wondered? They'd already discovered the files that documented some of what was done to him. She'd been horrified and angry on his behalf. Then she'd asked several intelligent questions about what might happen during their sparring session tomorrow. Her easy acceptance of what he contained had astounded him but, as she explained, she was used to dealing with SOLDIER First Classes who apparently had their own 'additions'.
At her insistence he'd taken a copy to carry with him. If he was ever in need of medical attention she felt it was only fair that the personnel knew what they could be dealing with.
"Is it about me?"
"Yeah, well, in a way." She pushed her chair back, "I think you should read it for yourself."
Vincent tightened his hold on his beasts, although Chaos wouldn't be completely suppressed, of course. He placed his human hand carefully on the desk amidst the normal clutter of an area used for actual work, and leaned over to read the screen.
The entry hadn't been written by Hojo or Lucrecia, or any of the scientists he remembered from his time at the mansion. It was written by a lab technician he'd never met. The unknown technician had admired what Hojo had done, how he'd manipulated his wife into becoming an experiment. He noted how the Professor bragged about using Lucrecia's guilt against her. Guilt that she'd become involved with the son of her mentor, a mentor whom she'd killed with her carelessness and arrogance; guilt that she'd become pregnant by a man other than her husband.
It couldn't be...
Vincent scanned the page but there were no identifiers; no way to know who had written the journal. Vincent skipped to the next page, looking for more. This, what the technician had written, it was merely speculation. He couldn't know for sure that Lucrecia's child had been...
Hojo had played up the fact that her chosen lover was nearly a decade younger than she; she'd be old and he'd still be young and vibrant. Then there was the fact that the Turk had a very bright future ahead of him except, as a Turk, Vincent wasn't allowed to have a family. The baby she carried would end his career, and Turks ended their careers only one way—dead.
Then the technician detailed the injections the scientist had talked his pregnant wife into allowing, for both herself and her child. When she'd died the man had written 'serves the bitch right'. He chuckled as he described what they had done to the baby, Lucrecia's baby, Sephiroth. The technician had believed it okay to test new substances on the boy, to treat him as a specimen rather than a child, because the child hadn't been Hojo's, and Hojo was his God.
He'd written with pride of the tortures they'd inflicted on the man who'd made Hojo a cuckold. The technician had assisted Hojo as he'd played with Vincent's beasts, adding to them, changing them, forcing them to emerge and then go back into Vincent's being. This technician, he'd had no problem with the experiments Hojo had subjected the Turk to because, as he put it, 'It was a good revenge against the man who'd fucked his wife and gotten her pregnant.' He went on to comment that he'd do the same thing to any guy who messed with his woman.
Then, a year after Sephiroth's birth, the entries stopped. Vincent flipped through the screens looking for something, anything more. There was nothing.
Vincent wanted to reach into the past and rip the man apart. All of his beasts were awake and clamouring for release. He wasn't sure he could hold them.
"I need solitude," he announced.
Tifa nodded in understanding. "We're still on for sparring tomorrow?"
"I will find you," he confirmed. Then he raced from the room, from the tent, away from the camp and from innocent and vulnerable lives. He ran until there was nothing to prevent him from releasing the anger, the pain, the Chaos.
He had a son.
"Normally, mako has one of three effects on the person who uses it, in whatever form," Dr. Imeera lectured. "They utilize it, they enjoy it, or they are overwhelmed by it."
"Can't say I ever enjoyed it," Zack argued.
"Not the injection, no, but the effects of it. As a SOLDIER you would have used the extra power and speed it gave you to enhance your own abilities. Remember, mako is just another form of the LIfestream that means when people say it makes them feel 'as strong as ten people' it is literal, not symbolic or a hyperbole."
"You mean they've been injecting dead people in my veins?" Oh shit, he was going to be sick. Cloud's wings fluttered. "It's not funny, Spike."
"That a very... um, unusual interpretation," she was openly struggling not to use words like 'peculiar' or 'disgusting', "but not... not accurate."
Zack lifted sceptical eyebrows. He'd always envied Seph's ability to raise only one as it added a touch of elegant scorn to the motion. He really wanted to show that disdain at this moment. Still, he managed to telegraph his disbelief to Dr. Imeera.
"At least not really," she frowned, "I'm not sure how to explain it." Zack just continued looking at her, telling her that she'd better damn well try.
She stared down at her hands, her frown now one of concentration. She hummed a little then placed open hands palm down on the table before looking up at him again. "Professor Bugenhagen of Cosmo Canyon is our expert on the Lifestream. The way he explains it is all humans die. Their bodies dissolve and return to the Planet. That we knew. What we didn't know, didn't bother investigating, is what happens to their consciousness, their hearts and their souls when their bodies are gone." She narrowed her eyes in thought, "Maybe a better way of saying it is that some people knew but it was considered religion, not science, and therefore unimportant."
She slashed a hand in a cutting motion as if to discard that sideline. "Anyway, the soul also returns to the Planet in the form of spirit energy. We now believe that everything on this Planet; people, birds, trees, all living things has spirit energy, and when anything dies their spirit returns to the Planet. All these spirits merge with one another and roam the Planet. They roam, converge, and divide; forming unseen rivers we call the Lifestream." She looked at him to see if he understood.
"Still sounds like I've been injected with dead people," was his caustic response, "and maybe a dead bug or two."
"Alright, perhaps," she conceded, "but that's not really the point. We're trying to figure out what happened to Corporal Strife." She clasped her hands together. "Perhaps a better way to describe it is a beach."
Again with the eyebrows. Maybe he should ask Seph how he learned to lift only one.
She nodded, confirming her inner thoughts. "Think of the Lifestream as the ocean. Most people stay on the beach, only going into the water occasionally; usually when they die. They barely dip their toes into the Lifestream.
"SOLDIERs would be like surfers. They go out deep and ride the surface of the ocean, enjoying the power and speed, in control of their environment for the most part." She looked at Zack to see if the analogy made sense to him and he nodded shortly. Once the initial sickness wore off, mako injection often had the feel of riding a wave.
"Mako addicts love swimming in the water," she continued, "playing in it, surrounding themselves with it, but they stay in relatively shallow water and are always aware of themselves as swimmers. You can call to them from shore and they will respond. They can leave the water any time they choose, they just chose not to." Another look to check if she was being understood. Another nod in return.
"Victims of mako poisoning are drowning in the deep ocean. They can't tell up from down, let alone how to find the shore."
"You yell at them and they can't hear," Zack paraphrased.
"Exactly. They are so far from the surface they have forgotten there is one in that they barely know they have a body waiting for them." She explained further, "Corporal Strife shows all the outward signs of mako poisoning; catatonia, unresponsive to physical stimulus; light in the eyes, tendon reflex—"
"You tried to tickle his feet in the lab..." Zack said, enlightened.
"Yes, it's a standard test. He didn't respond to any of them. But you talk to him and he responds. His wings," she waved a hand tightly in exasperation, "he communicates with his wings. I mean, look at them..." she pointed down where Cloud was running his terminal feathers over his bare feet. "He shouldn't be doing that." The feathers stopped moving.
"S'okay, Spike, the Doc's just weirded out," Zack murmured to his friend. A questioning hum asked for confirmation, "Yeah, I'm sure. Go ahead if it feels nice."
"That shouldn't be possible," Dr. Imeera said flatly. "There have been thousands of documented cases of mako addiction and mako poisoning, plus all the research that's been done over the years," she held up her hand, "and not just by Hojo. Mako was considered a 'wonder material' and everybody and their chocobos were investigating its properties. But in all that research and all those years, I've never heard about anything like the Corporal's response."
"He's not a specimen any more, Doc," he growled, tightening his grip protectively.
She waved it away, "I realize that, Commander. However, that doesn't change the fact that we have no real idea how to treat someone who doesn't fit into any of the known classifications. We can guess, but that makes him an experiment once again," she leaned forward, "Despite what you may think of the medical profession—not without cause, I grant you, I do understand that both of you have survived a horrible ordeal and I will do my best to minimize the trauma and to help you both readjust. However, physically, there's not much I can do." She looked almost angry, though it seemed to be directed more at herself than at them.
"You," she pointed at Zack, "are remarkably healthy: lots of indications of past trauma—physically they're all healed. Some signs of current malnutrition, easily fixed although we will be giving you a vitamin supplement to take. Corporal Strife on the other hand," she turned her gaze to the blond who had settled his wings on his back, tucking them in nice and tidy. She opened and closed her mouth a few times as if considering and discarding different approaches.
"Since he seems capable of performing simple tasks, he should also take the vitamins, but the best advice I have on dealing with whatever he's suffering is time. If it's an addiction then he'll start to suffer withdrawals, so convulsions—anything from small twitches to major spasms. He may start to froth at the mouth, and it would likely have a green tinge. There may be vomiting, again with green tint." She paused, clasping her fingers together once again. "If it's mako poisoning then there's not much anyone can do but wait and hope the effects wear off as the mako fades from his system."
"How long?"
"To be honest, with the level of mako he has, it could take years. Blood transfusions might help but the results aren't guaranteed."
Wings stiffened even as the SOLDIER growled out, "No more hospitals."
She fluttered her fingers a little before clasping them firmly together. Zack thought it was her body trying to express empathy to whatever aversion they'd have to being back in a medical environment, even though her mind objected to doing anything so human.
"If it is mako poisoning, there's a possibility the damage to the neural systems will be permanent. We believe the amount of the damage and the ability to heal it is more a matter of strength of personality, and there's not much we can do to give someone a strong personality when they've already been swallowed up by the Lifestream." She paused, exhaling a noisy, frustrated sigh. "I've studied the Corporal's military records and his psychiatric assessments don't indicate an outgoing person. Self-effacing was actually the phrase used," she said bluntly.
"Cloud's not an attention grabber, but he's stubborn and he's strong and he's disciplined. He made it from here to Midgar when he was fourteen, by seventeen he was already a Corporal. That should tell you something." Cloud mantled his wings, showing off a little.
Dr. Imeera sat back in her chair with a shrug. "Hopefully it's enough.
Lord Godo was showing Sephiroth a great deal of respect.
He had finished his cup of tea but he hadn't finished even one of the dainties set in front of them. He'd taken a couple nibbles from this one, and a bite from that one. He'd sampled all the dishes set before them; he'd even set a couple pieces on his plate. What he hadn't done was finish a single one. So while Tuesti and Tonaga, and the rest of the Mess ate heartily of the mouth-watering delicacies the kitchen had spent hours preparing, the General had to match Lord Godo bite for tiny bite.
If he had thought to order something to be brought to his tent it might have helped his patience.
There was no talk of ShinRa's top scientist turning out to be an evil megalomaniac who had destroyed Midgar by creating a hyper-enhanced army right under Rupert Shinra's oblivious nose. There was no mention of Sephiroth's premature burial, his fourteen-month disappearance or his dramatic, but embarrassing, reappearance with the Red General—also previously declared dead by the company. They didn't speak of the rise of other corporations and criminal organizations that wanted to take the ShinRa Electric Power Company's place as the world power, nor how delicately Rufus was balancing all the crises to keep ShinRa in control.
No, they didn't speak of anything like that.
Instead, they spoke, obliquely, of Rufus Shinra and how he differed from his father. They joked, discretely, about the similarities of the incursions into Wutai in the past year and ShinRa's invasion of fifteen years ago. They spoke, enthusiastically, about the joy of finding a worthy opponent to fight and the ecstasy to be found on the battlefield. They complimented each other, profusely, on each other's fighting prowess, and they chatted, inevitably, about the weather.
It was tedious and his stomach was eating its way out through his spine.
Finally, finally, Lord Godo finished not one, but two of the savoury dainties. Then three, four, five and six in quick succession. And then a couple more. Sephiroth waved for more food. At last they were reaching the point of the meeting, or at least would start to. Sephiroth didn't allow himself to sigh as he chewed on the morsel in his mouth, another one already in his hand, waiting.
The elderly Wutai Lord daintily brushed his fingertips on the cloth provided. "You have probably wondered why we are here and not on our way to Junon."
Not really. "It had occurred to me."
"Shinra's son has promised Wutai many things in return for peace with us..."
"...and aid in fighting the evil Dr. Hojo," Tonaga completed the sentence. This was the younger Lord's task, to bring up in the negotiations the awkward truths that could cause the other party to be uncomfortable.
It might have embarrassed Rufus Shinra but for the small fact that the son had loathed his father and didn't care that his father stupidity and gullibility had once protected the man who'd destroyed the company. Sephiroth was indifferent to anyone's embarrassment. The truth was that ShinRa's forces couldn't hope to defeat the combined forces of Hojo, Jenova and Deepground while defending itself against the manoeuvres of ambitious corporate upstarts, rising criminal activity and Wutai insurgents, so Sephiroth merely nodded in acknowledgment of the facts.
Godo continued, a little flat-footed when the expected, formalized protests didn't get spoken, "but the Shinras have made promises before..."
"...and not kept them."
"That was the previous President. Rufus Shinra is entirely different," Reeve broke in when it was obvious the General wasn't going to argue that point either. How could he, when he agreed with the Wutai Lords? Except that, so far, Rufus had kept his promises. He allowed Sephiroth to run the army the way he saw fit, he made sure that resources and equipment were the best quality available, and he'd let the General hunt down his friends without comment.
"I have been favourably impressed with the new President." It was as much as he was willing to offer but Godo and Tonaga exchanged those meaningful looks and minute nods again as if something profound had happened.
"We are willing to concede that the boy is not the father. We are here, after all, and not in Wutai." Godo waved to indicate the tent, the camp and the continent.
"We will try his promises to see if he holds them true," Tonaga added.
Reeve's muttered, 'he will' was lost under Godo's voice. "You, Lord Sephiroth, have never broken a promise." The silver-haired warrior blinked in astonishment. "During the War you fought when and how you said you would. The troops under your command fought and behaved as you said they would. When you said the War was over, it was over..."
"You didn't promise protection and then perfidiously allow the death of your ally," Tonaga added. It was a reference to the death of Godo's brother assassinated in error by a troop of ShinRa mercenaries. Not Turks, Sephiroth knew, Turks would never have made that kind of mistake.
"You promised to find your warrior friends, treacherously abandoned to Hojo by the old ShinRa, and we understand you have done that as well." Godo continued, "If you give your word that you will enforce the treaty..."
"...and not lead troops to invade Wutai once Hojo is defeated..." Tonaga inserted.
"...then the Lords of Wutai will believe the words of Shinra and sign the treaty," Lord Godo concluded.
Sephiroth had dipped his head early, hiding his expression of amusement. He'd known the Wutai Lords had insisted on this meeting before agreeing to see the President of Neo-ShinRa, but he certainly hadn't expected this! Had Tuesti known what Lord Godo had planned to say, he wondered. He gave the dark Vice-President a surreptitious glance and received an equally covert nod in return. Tuesti had known, which meant Rufus Shinra knew as well.
Sephiroth assured them. "During the invasion of Wutai fifteen years ago, I obeyed my orders but that is all—"
"As any loyal soldier would do," Godo complimented, "but it is known that your loyalties aren't necessarily the same as they were fifteen years ago." The General's eyebrow lifted; it was an interesting way of putting it. Did they know more than had been released to the public, Sephiroth wondered.
Tonaga took over, "Our fear is that, once the current crisis is past, the ShinRa executive will look to re-conquer what was never meant to be theirs."
Sephiroth's brow rose in surprise at the unusually straight-forward statement. Despite the assurances Tuesti was churning out, it was a legitimate concern. Rufus didn't appear to be his father but there were hints that Rupert's early influence wasn't completely eliminated. His father had done his best to turn the boy into an arrogant sociopath, believing only in himself, respecting no one and nothing. The recent upheavals had shaken the boy, caused him to rethink many of his father's practices... or that's what he wanted the world to believe. Sephiroth hadn't spent enough time in Rufus Shinra's company to be able to judge.
It wasn't the only possibility for betrayal though.
Not everyone on the ShinRa board wanted a kinder, gentler company. There were organizations as ruthless and bloody as ShinRa had ever been who had found those discontented board members and formed a vicious partnership. If they could whisper in Rufus' ear about past glories and future riches, and have him listen, they would be happy. ShinRa Electric Power Company would make money as it had in the past, and much of the profits would be siphoned off, as they had been in the past. Only the final destination would have changed.
The last option was always to assassinate the boy and install their own puppet as President. Retaking Wutai, with its wealth of natural resources would likely be a priority for such a leader.
At least it had revealed to Sephiroth why these two War Lords were here. "You wish to have my word that I won't lead the ShinRa army into Wutai if I were ever ordered to do so," he clarified.
Not by a twitch did either of the Wutaians reveal any discomfiture at Sephiroth's blunt statement. "If ever such an order should be given," Tonaga's tone was nicely shaded to indicate that the idea of it happening had never crossed their minds, but now that the General mentioned it...
"I can easily give you that assurance. I have never felt any overwhelming personal desire to conquer Wutai, or anywhere else." Were they done now, he wondered hopefully?
"If President Shinra should order such a thing..." Tonaga's tone, this time, was full of apologies, as if having to ask again were a sin that Leviathan himself would punish him for.
"I would not accept that order. My fight is with Hojo, not the world in general." He also had no desire to see the ShinRa Electric Power Company restored to its former level of power but that was a personal thing and had no place at the negotiation table. However, it appeared that what he had said was enough because Godo and Tonaga exchanged another one of those small, satisfied looks.
"Your honesty and integrity are not in dispute, Lord Sephiroth. It warms an old man's heart to have your assurances," Godo lifted the teapot and filled the General's cup, "Your kitchen has also warmed my heart with the quality of its fare; a good savoury is the basis for a good meal, yes? Of course, the sweet is the reward." With that statement, the official negotiations were over.
Unfortunately, it didn't mean the meal was finished.
Sephiroth didn't sigh, he didn't frown or fidget. In no way did he show that he longed to be somewhere else, but he thought of his damaged friends and yearned.