Warnings: Language, references to Making It Work (and separation anxiety on my part)

Chapter 20 : Brother Down

"Is the camp on fire?" Zack asked as he shut the door. The person facing him wasn't someone he knew. Instead it was an old soldier, compact and tough. His flashes identified him as a master-sergeant. Zack would've bet gil to garbage that this was one of the guys who actually ran the camp no matter what the bureaucrats said back in Midgar… or Junon now. He remembered them saying that Midgar was gone. Fuck, he thought, and suppressed the urge to laugh, they'd barely finished building it and now it was destroyed. It looked like he wasn't the only one the gods liked to laugh at.

"You must be that SOLDIER the Guv'nor was talkin' about." The man's voice sounded like continents grinding together. If Titan ever spoke, he would sound like this man and the Grasslander accent added the final touch to the earth god illusion. However, he wasn't Titan and Zack wasn't intimidated.

"I'm Zack Fair, used to be in SOLDIER." He shrugged into the last of his armour, leaving his boots on the floor, and put out his hand, "Can't say if the General was talking about me or not."

A hard shake, "Oh, aye, 'e has been. Wants you t'be 'is Second-in-Command and all. I'm Master-Sergeant Lutton." The hand-shake was just an excuse for the two experienced fighters to assess each other. Zack's initial impression didn't change, but he couldn't get a sense of what the Senior NCO thought of him.

"Sooo, how can I help you, Master-Sergeant?"

Lutton's brows lifted innocently putting Zack on his guard. "The Gen'ral's comin' soon, Sir?"

"Not unless the sky's falling or the world's coming apart or something." Zack's smile remained wide and friendly. He also remained standing in front of the door, hands on hips; a wall of living, modified warrior. "Is the world coming apart, Master-Sergeant?"

"I couldn't really say, Sir. I'm just the messenger." He held up a small envelope. Zack held out his hand to take it but the old soldier held on to it. "It's marked 'Eyes Only'. I can only giv'it to the Gen'ral or 'is Aide." MS Lutton rocked on his heels, face suspiciously bland.

Zack's eyes narrowed even as his smile remained wide and bright. He was being played—he'd hung around the Corporal too much not to recognize it. Still, he thought, bait isn't really bait when you know what it is, right? "If you can give it to his Aide, why haven't you?" Feint.

"The leftenant is on the mountain at the moment. Unavailable." Parry. "O' course," Lutton said, tone as mild as milk, "I could give it t'the Guv'nor's Second-in-Command, if 'e 'ad one. Elsewise, I'll just 'ave to wake 'im up." Riposte.

"Blackmail," Zack made his own attack.

"Regulations," he sounded offended at the accusation but his expression was very close to smug.

Zack was caught between being amused—because he'd walked into such an obvious trap even knowing what it was, or being angry—because he hadn't decided yet whether he could work for ShinRa in any capacity whatsoever. There was a third option, he realised. He could feel pleased because the experienced Master-Sergeant had obviously judged him worthy of standing at the General's side. It was compliment.

It was also blackmail.

"The Officer of the Watch?" It was a feeble offering and Zack knew it.

Lutton made short work of it, "Gen'ral's eye's only, or his designate."

"Same argument for Captain Kunsel?" Lutton merely looked at him in pity. Zack finally laughed—what was the point in being angry, after all? "You're pretty good," he said admiringly, "but it's still blackmail. You have to know I'm not going to let you disturb them." Zack's posture relaxed, but he still didn't move from the door.

"I'm just doin' my duty, same as efryone else." Such a mild tone

"What if I say the General's made me his SiC?" Zack asked.

"Then I gif you the information and go on my way."

Zack's eyes narrowed, "You'd take my word for it? Just like that."

"You'd lie?"

"Oh c'mon!" Zack scoffed, "There's a bit more to becoming the General's SiC than just saying it's so."

Again, the Master-Sergeant had that carefully not smug expression on his face. "True, I'll 'ave t'go dig up the paperwork that 'e filed back when 'e accepted the Gen'ralship and actifate the standin' orders."

Zack was… shocked was too mild a word for it. "He filed the papers two years ago?"

"'E's a man who knows 'is own mind, I reckon."

Zack stood there speechless. The Master-Sergeant wasn't well enough acquainted with him to appreciate how rare that was.

So many thoughts ran through the SOLDIER's head: Sephiroth must have been pretty sure he'd find them... and that he'd agree to this. If he agreed he'd be working for ShinRa indirectly... What would Seph had done if they'd been dead or something... Was this really the best thing to do? Did Sephiroth need him that much? He remembered what Seph had said just last night; 'there is no one I trust more for the position'. They'd made a good team before Nibelheim, he knew that. He'd been told by some of the ShinRa higher ups that they'd had a much easier time dealing with the genetically-modified warrior after he'd started working with Seph.

"Well, Commander?" Lutton prodded.

Was he really going to do this? He thought of Kunsel's comment about Seph's current Aide, Hinds or Hints or something. The man wasn't to be trusted apparently, and he was the one standing at the General's side. Seph needed someone better than that. Loyal to him and to Ifrit's Hell with everyone else…

"He said… there's a contract?" Zack asked hesitantly.

"Aye, that would be in the file." Lutton was a solid, reassuring presence.

A deep breath, caught, held and released. "Right then. Dig it out and let's get this hot dog stand moving." He held out his hand for the report and, this time, the Master-Sergeant handed it over. Zack took it over to the table and dropped it. He looked at it, a plain envelope made out of a plastic-paper hybrid; practically indestructible. He looked at the electronic seal, a simplified version of the ShinRa Electric Power Company logo. Then he rode out a wave of panic. Hot, cold; numb then prickly. He'd agreed to go back to work for those betraying bastards.

He tried telling his racing heart that he was only getting paid by ShinRa and that he was actually going to be working for Seph. His heart was obviously deaf to reason because it didn't slow down any. Well, if reason didn't work, he'd fall back on his favourite tactic—distraction.

"Can you arrange for some food and a large urn of coffee?" Feeding his unending SOLDIER appetite was always a good way to get his mind off stuff he didn't want to think about. His stomach seemed quite willing to go along with the program because it gave out a loud and eager growl at the mention of food.

"Aye, Sir," Lutton agreed peaceably. He was busy tapping away on the computer even as the printer beside him spat out pages.

He did a quick mental check—still panicky, so he thought of something else to do. He sat down to put on his heavy footwear, making sure to lace them up precisely and to tie them off just so. Thinking of his boots brought something else to mind.

"I'll also need a desk and chair. The General doesn't like it when I put my feet up on his." He had fond memories of braving Seph's dark, disapproving looks but a desk would establish that he had some authority on his own and wasn't just Sephiroth's 'pet'.

"I'll arrange it, Sir."

"Thank you, Master-Sergeant." Another deep breath. He was still jittery but not panicked, not quite.

He stared at the device built into the envelope. There was actually an electronic scanner built into the seal and an authorized thumb-print was required to make the mechanism unlock. The seal itself, though thin, was large and impressive looking. It was meant to reassure the recipient that the contents hadn't been tampered with. Zack wasn't particularly reassured. He'd spent far too much time in Reno's company to take the seal at face value. Some of the stuff they'd looked at had been serious; reports about Genesis and Angeal's disappearance that the suits didn't want to share but they both felt they had a right to know.

And, of course, the two of them hadn't been able to resist doing other stuff, like replacing Heideggar's news video—featuring clips of himself of course, with a video of gay porn. Since the self-important, self-proclaimed General had been homophobic, they'd been able to hear his shrieks ten floors away. Zack knew it was an unworthy thought, but he was thankful the man was dead. If the fat shit had still been with ShinRa there's no way Zack would even think of working for them.

Lutton broke into his musing, "There you are, Sir. You should be active in the system now." He reached over to pull a wad of paper off the printer and handed them over. "A copy of the contract. You'll want to be readin' it before you sign."

Zack took the thick bundle, "Drawn up by ShinRa's finest sharks, huh?" ShinRa's legal department had been famous for the quality of their doublespeak.

"And the Guv'nor. Should be simple enough t'understand."

Zack smiled at Lutton's dry, not quite insulting, tone. He sounded just like the Corporal... The smile dropped from his face. He wondered how Seph was doing. Would Cloud just wake up once all his parts were together? It was out of his control, he reminded himself, out of his control. He wanted the comfort of his wing-fingers tap-tap-tapping on his shoulder guards. Shit, he scrubbed a hand through his hair; when had that become comforting?

He tossed the contract to one side, "I'll read this later. First, let's find out what's important enough to warrant the fancy seal." He placed his left thumb down on the ShinRa logo. His enhanced hearing easily picked up the hum of the sensor. It didn't take very long, certainly not at long as the seals he'd used three years ago, before the little device beeped and clicked open. Zack twisted it the last little bit and the flap opened up. He pulled out a few typed sheets and maybe a dozen photos, black and white and colour.

He picked up the photos first because they looked more interesting but, without a context, he had no idea what he was looking at. There seemed to be four different robotic creatures. A couple of the photos showed them emerging from a hole in the ground which, if the snow and ice cover was a true indication, was probably the Northern Caves up by Icicle Inn. That meant these things were coming out of Hojo's lab which wasn't good because these creatures were fucking huge.

Suddenly, reading the accompanying report sounded like a damn good idea.

The first page was from someone called 'Deuce'. It was coded and completely useless to Zack. Thankfully, the other sheets were the decoded version. Unfortunately, even the deciphered they were obscure, assuming a level of background knowledge the SOLDIER just didn't have. He squeezed his head hoping that his brain would jump into a magical kind of overdrive or something. The cup of coffee that appeared at his elbow was the next best thing.

Hojo's plans require the end of the planet… knew that; …activated previously unknown devices… okay, he couldn't have known that so no need to feel stupid; Purpose unknown, destination unknown… not a lot of help there... relation between devices and Omega unknown… wait a minute, he paused, why does that sound familiar? Food appeared at his elbow so he dug in and continued reading. …troops mustering… new mutations… possible new attack being planned… blah, blah, blah.

This was the same unhelpful speculation that used to fill the reports he used to read back before Nibelheim. Of course Hojo would be mustering his forces; of course he'd be creating new monsters; and of course he'd be planning a new attack. The sick fuck hadn't achieved his goal.

Zack reread the report, wondering even more why they'd sent this to Sephiroth. They weren't asking for help, they didn't want him to prepare for an attack—there wasn't even a request for Seph to add more useless speculation to the file.

Should he put the camp on alert?

It didn't even seem like the creatures were heading their way. ShinRa was tracking them as best they could, given that all of them had slipped into the ocean. Apparently the creature-devices had dispersed once they'd entered the water, but all of them were last seen heading in a south-easterly direction. Which was completely not helpful… the ShinRa boffins couldn't get any vaguer.

South-east of the Northern Cave was the whole frickin' Eastern Continent and the most heavily populated areas on the planet. Those things had a whole smorgasbord of targets. He lifted the picture of the blue-ish coloured one with the long tail. This thing had fins the size of a train sticking out all over the place like Cloud's hair, and ShinRa intelligence couldn't track it? What a bunch of losers.

There'd almost been something, some connection, some bit of the picture? Sometimes he thought his brain was almost as fried as Cloud's. He glanced at the door that concealed the not-quite-sleeping couple. Fuck, he hoped this worked.

The cottage seemed especially dim after the brightness of the outside. The bare stone walls, the dark beams, the heavy, obviously hand-made furniture, made the room seem oppressive. Even Weirdo's new, larger windows and the hole in the roof didn't lighten the atmosphere.

Weirdo's books were still scattered over the floor from when he'd panicked and kicked over his backpack. There must have been at least twenty volumes that had spilled out and yet the bag still looked full. Angeal would have loved a bag like that. Of the three of them, Angeal had been the most voracious reader. It was odd, Sephiroth thought, how he could despise his former friend for abandoning them and yet, at the same time, miss him so dreadfully. However, this was neither the time nor place to be thinking of the past.

He turned to the smallest Cloud, still perched on his hip, "Are you ready to get down?" Raincloud looked at him with large eyes, assessing, weighing, before nodding his head. Sephiroth swung him to the floor. The child claimed one of Niisan's pillows and one of Weirdo's comics and lay down on the floor reading. His toy dragon was placed beside him so it could have a good view of the pages.

"That's my pillow, brat," Niisan snarked, hands on hips. Weirdo paled and stepped away.

"It smells nice. Like you," Raincloud said, unconcerned.

"Of course it does," the older persona rolled his eyes. Raincloud didn't move. He didn't even raise his eyes to the silver-haired young man who was snarling at him. "Alright," Niisan huffed, "you can use it, just don't drool on it or drip snot on it or anything."

There was a murmuring roar, like a waterfall. It almost felt like it was in his head except he could hear it echoing in the house. This time the small aspect did look up, they all did, listening to what almost sounded like words. It was Raincloud who said it first, understanding the rumble quicker than anyone else, "Zack says it's fine Outside There. You don't have to go yet."

Sephiroth glanced at Niisan for confirmation. The slender man shrugged a shoulder, "That's essentially right. He said he'd call if anything changes." The General nodded acceptance of their interpretation. He could put the real world to the back of his mind and concentrate on this one.

"We should continue with the reconstruction then," the General said, kneeling to search through Weirdo's books for the decorating magazines they'd been looking at earlier. Not that he would have much to do with it, but he wanted to sit with them as they decided what to do. What more would he find out about his lover from the process?

A slim, garish volume with dripping green lettering caught his eye. 'Horrifying Human Experiments' read the title followed by a smaller lettered subtitle, 'True Stories from the Secret Lab'. Under the lettering was a picture of a man in a white, gore-spattered, lab coat. His eyes glowed evilly from behind thick glasses and his dark, greasy hair was pulled back into a braid. His hands were huge, his shoulders were wider than most doors and his wide, laughing mouth nearly split his head in two. It wasn't Hojo, yet it was.

The General, remembering a far off day in the basement lab in Nibelheim, opened the book up to the verso where the printing information should be. It was blank. In fact, there was no publisher's name anywhere on the book; not inside on the title page or on the cover. The book wasn't real, or wouldn't be real anywhere but here in Cloud's psyche.

He opened the volume to a random page and read:

Fear kept his staff in line. Fear that they'd be the mad professor's next experiment, so they remained quiet even though they knew what the evil doctor planned.

If he infected enough of the Jenova virus into his helpless victims, her mutated cells would achieve a concentration high enough to allow her to take over their minds. Like the hive mind of the bee, slavishly working to ensure the Queens survival, these mindless drones would do the Calamity's work because she would be their Queen, their Mother. She would use her clone army to infect others. Some would live and become her slaves, but if they died they would take her taint into the Lifestream and infect it as well. Eventually, there would be a 'critical mass' of Jenova in all of Gaia allowing her to achieve her goal of breaking up the planet and returning to the stars and continuing her journey.

Why would anyone do this? It was madness. Kill the planet, kill himself; it's an easy equation, except he wasn't entirely sane, was he?

He was known to have injected himself with more stable strains of the Jenova virus decades earlier. Perhaps Jenova was controlling his thoughts, whispering her evil love into his already twisted mind. Perhaps he believed that, as her loyal servant, the Calamity would need him so much she would spare his life and take him with her.

Perhaps he was blinded by his immense ego. He'd always had an inflated sense of self far outstripping his actual talent. He'd loved her, wanted her. Perhaps he believed that she felt the same way about him?

Or, perhaps, he thought he had found a way around death?

Although written in uninspired and inflammatory language, the passage was still ominous. When Sephiroth finally got the chance to kill his progenitor he wanted it to be final. Sephiroth flipped to a new page.

Many of the residents of the Nibelheim lab talk of Specimen 'C'. He was one of Hojo's favourite subjects and, when Hojo wasn't choosing him to experiment on, Specimen 'C' would often volunteer himself to protect the other victims being held by the insane professor.

This baffled the self-serving scientist. He couldn't understand why someone, anyone, would volunteer to be experimented on just to protect others. He called Specimen 'C' weak and a failure because he never stopped trying to protect the others. Over and over again he tried,, to torture the noble self-sacrifice out of his young victim.

He failed. For Specimen 'C' escaped the one place Hojo or his brutal guards couldn't follow... his mind.

Sephiroth's stomach was queasy. Hojo had never called him by name but had always referred to him as Specimen 'S'. He referred to all his test subject, human or otherwise, by their specimen label. The description of Specimen 'S' matched the Cloud of the real world, but this book wasn't of that world. It belonged here. Was Specimen 'C' another of Cloud's personas, splintered from the whole just like the others? If that was true, they needed to find him. First, he had to discover if his hypothesis was correct.

"What can you tell me of Specimen 'C'?" he asked the room at large, even though he looked at Weirdo. Weirdo, who paled then flushed, nearly falling over in his panic. It was an unexpected reaction. So was Niisan's

"Where'd you hear his name?" Niisan asked suspiciously.

Sephiroth's eyebrow rose. "It was on the floor." Specimen 'C' was a name of an individual residing within Cloud's soul. Therefore he was indeed another aspect. He lifted the book showing its cover to the silver-haired diva, "It must have fallen out of Weirdo's bag."

"Weirdo," the silver-haired persona hissed, "Why did you have that book in there?"

The younger aspect flinched away from Niisan's temper, "I don't know."

"Tch!" Niisan spat in disgust, "That book has nothing in it that we need to know."

It was time to interrupt before the situation turned violent which, judging from Niisan's glowing eyes, it just might. "Who is Specimen 'C'?" His tone was still mild but now there was an element of command to it.

Niisan kept his face turned away from the General when he answered. "He's just some guy the writers made up to make an already badly written book more interesting." The General didn't believe for one second that Niisan's anger was caused by literary outrage and, when Weirdo flinched, Sephiroth deduced that Niisan had somehow threatened the younger aspect if he didn't back up the lie.

Weirdo swallowed, "Th-that's right. He's not real."

Sephiroth assessed the two Clouds; one aggressively determined to stop the conversation, the other cringing and trembling in fear. Even little Raincloud had stopped reading his comic in favour of watching the drama unfold in front of him. The atmosphere in the cottage was threatening.

"You're lying to me. How very disappointing," he stated calmly. This time it was the older persona who flinched.

"This may be exaggerated and badly written but that doesn't make it untrue. Specimen 'C' exists, doesn't he? He is one of you." He caught and held the silver-haired youth's eyes, wanting Niisan to tell him. Niisan stared back silently, defiantly. He wasn't going to tell. Sephiroth could see Weirdo in his peripheral vision but the young teen kept his gaze on a pillow he'd picked up. The boy plucked it nervously and a guilty flush coloured his cheeks.

It was Raincloud that broke the deadlock, "He hurts all the time." The little voice was sad but calm, as if the battle of wills between Sephiroth and Niisan were inconsequential. The small aspect completely ignored Niisan's outraged protest, so Sephiroth ignored it as well.

"Specimen 'C'?" the General confirmed.

Raincloud nodded, "And he's scared."

Sephiroth sighed and stood up. "I should have realized sooner that there was another one. None of you have his wings." Sephiroth waved Weirdo to silence when the young teen opened his mouth—probably to ask a question. "I assumed Spike would have them as the mutation only affects SOLDIERs First Class but he didn't. I wondered if, perhaps, he was keeping them hidden away, except that behaviour doesn't match Spike's very flamboyant personality. If he had wings, they would be on display," he stopped, fingered the front cover. There was the mako tube, filled with glowing green slime. "Specimen 'C'," he continued softly, "If, as this book suggests, he absorbed all the effects from Hojo's experiments then he would have the wings, wouldn't he." He looked at Raincloud who nodded solemnly at him. "How do we find him?"

Raincloud, Weirdo and even Niisan just shrugged and shuffled their feet. Finally, Weirdo spoke up, "I've never seen him. He hides from everyone."

"He runs away from us," Raincloud added "because he's scared all the time,"

"Scared of you?" he asked the small boy who was sitting up and hugging his stuffed dragon.

Raincloud nodded, "He was the first and he thinks he wasn't good enough to stop the splintering so he's afraid we hate him."

"Ah." Cloud, his Cloud, had suffered from the same feelings of inadequacy, although not quite this extreme. He even knew the cause.

His mind went back to an evening three years ago...

Sephiroth could remember walking out of the lab in Nibelheim and through the village. He'd needed to keep in contact, skin to skin, with Cloud or else Jenova's voice would've invaded his mind again. She would've tried to control him. Touching Cloud had muted her voice, dulled her power to almost nothing. They'd held hands in the caves under the ShinRa mansion where there was only the three of them. He'd refused to hold hands through the village to the Inn however and Corporal Strife had come up with a plan.

"If you hold me by the scruff of the neck, here," Cloud lifted his hand to demonstrate, "no one in the village will think anything of it. They're used to seeing me get hauled around like that."
"That'll make it look like you're in trouble," Zack protested, "like we're dragging you to jail or something."
Cloud shrugged, "I don't have my helmet anyway, so they're going to see me. We might as well use it. They were always hauling me around by my neck. Like I said, no one will comment."
"You mean, they will not comment on my behaviour," Sephiroth clarified, "but will speculate on what you've done wrong this time?"
"Yeah. That's what I mean."

His assessment had been correct. All the villagers had whispered to each other as they walked through the square. They'd covered their mouths but hadn't realized that Sephiroth could still hear them. Through his grasp on Cloud's slender neck he could feel how tense the young trooper had become. Even Tifa's talkative presence hadn't blocked the young Corporal's awareness of the whispers going on around them. Cloud hadn't complained. He'd ruthlessly sacrificed his own reputation to protect the General's.

It was one of the many reasons Sephiroth wanted his Cloud back. To do that, he needed to gather all of Cloud's aspects back together and that included poor, damaged, Specimen 'C'.

The cottage was darker than it had been, he realized, and it wasn't only because of their choice of conversation topics. Spike and the Corporal had finished the roof. Corporal Strife could find him... and bring him back.

"Corporal Strife," he called. Not loudly, he didn't think he needed to raise his voice much in this place.

It didn't take long for the compact soldier to march through the door. Bouncy, buoyant Spike followed on his heels. The Corporal came to a stop before the General but it was the SOLDIER persona who spoke first.

"We finished the outside," he smiled in triumph, "and I, for one, think it looks great."

"Niisan might not agree," the Corporal commented.

"Yeah, 'cuz it's not purple," Spike laughed openly, a little too loud for the joke. Nobody joined in.

The Corporal was the first to pick up on the tension in the small cottage which didn't surprise Sephiroth at all. The sturdy young man straightened, assuming his neutral NCO-to-Officer stance, "You called, Sir."

"He wants you to find Specimen 'C'," Niisan interrupted. The slim aspect sounded almost panicked.

Sephiroth nearly sighed again. This wasn't how he'd planned to broach the matter with the Corporal. Still, as Tifa had said last night, at least now it was done.

Corporal Strife stiffened and his eyes narrowed as his whole being went on alert. "Where'd you hear that term, if I may ask, Sir." It wasn't really a request. Once again the General raised the book with its lurid cover. This caused the soldier to send a narrow-eyed look at Weirdo, who paled, swallowed, and managed to look extremely guilty.

"I don't mean him any harm, if that's what you're worried about, Corporal." Sephiroth put some emphasis on his rank to remind Strife that he was talking to a General.

"I didn't think you did, General. It just that," he paused to collect his thoughts, "we're all rather protective of C."

"Poor little guy," Spike murmured.

"We need him here and, I think, he needs to know that we want him here. He hasn't been rejected, he isn't being shunned, and you, none of you, hate him." The Corporal lowered his eyes, truly thinking about what Sephiroth had said. The General knew all about how 'giving someone their space' could be misconstrued as 'don't give a damn' or even 'like it better this way'. Obviously, the Corporal knew about it too.

"He doesn't like crowds." It was a last ditch argument.

Spike protested, "We're not a crowd, we're family!"

The large aspect's exuberance made Sephiroth exchange understanding looks with the Corporal. "I'll make sure they stay back," he promised.

The Corporal shifted unhappily on his feet, still uncertain about the wisdom of chasing down the last part of Cloud. Finally, he gave a sharp sigh, "Very good, Sir. I don't know how long it will take me to find him and bring him back." He looked up at the General.

Sephiroth smiled softly, "That's perfectly fine, Corporal. I'm not going anywhere."

The sun was high enough to outline the structures in light while leaving the substance in shadow. Vincent liked this time of the day. He'd forgotten the odd illusion of two-dimensionality the world acquired just before dawn.

They finally reached the camp. To the sentries, Nanaki's presence was as good as a password and they entered the outskirts without incident. He and Nanaki had finished the walk in silence. He'd enjoyed that as well. He was still unused to be surrounded by sentient beings who demanded conversations and such.

He could sense his beasts roiling inside him, fitful in their slumber. He could smell the food from the mess tent. He would go there, find something acceptable to eat then locate Tifa for their sparring session. Then he would decide what to do about Sephiroth, his son.

"I will leave you here," Nanaki said, "You've given me much to think about and I must call my grandfather and report this."

"If I asked you not to tell?" It was mildly said, after all Vincent already knew the answer. Nanaki, also familiar with the question just grinned at him, exposing large, sharp teeth. "If you gain any insights from your talk with your grandfather, I would appreciate being informed." As Chaos is being annoyingly difficult he thought but didn't say. He'd tried not playing Chaos' game but his resident demon had remained teasing and obscure.

*Sapphire and diamond, ultimate, ruby and emerald,* it chanted. It had been chanting those five words off and on throughout the trip. Giving in and prodding the creature hadn't improved the quality of Chaos' responses either. Teasing it with being descended from magpies with their love of shiny things had just made it laugh.

He'd been aware of Chaos as a separate being within him almost from the moment Lucrecia had implanted the creature within him. Of course, he'd first thought the voice in his head was either from the injury he'd sustained—Hojo had shot him in the head after all, or that he was going crazy from all the experiments Hojo had put him through

*Don't forget the work of your twisted girlfriend, my host. She did her own experiments on us.*

She was just trying to save my life, he argued back.

*There were other ways of doing that, my Immortalis, my own. Instead she trapped me inside you then watched us through a test tube.*

It wasn't like that, Vincent wanted to argue. Lucrecia wouldn't have been so cold.

*Not to you perhaps, you she wanted to save, me she gave no thought to. My life, my purpose, my glory... All of it ignored to save you.* Vincent tried to respond but there was nothing he could say. It was possible the demon was right and Lucrecia hadn't cared about the life of the creature she'd used to save her lover.

*She didn't. However, my host, my own,* it teased, *our time together might be coming to an end, thanks to all the planet's glittering jewels.*

What do you mean? Vincent frowned and nearly stopped which would have been disastrous as Nanaki's curiosity would have been aroused once again.

*You'll find out soon enough, my own, and then we shall have some fun.* Vincent could sense his guest's satisfaction. It was looking forward to it whatever 'it' was. *All the pretty jewels: sapphire and diamond, ultimate, ruby and emerald.*

Perhaps he should have stayed in his coffin…

AN: I had somehow missed Emerald Weapon on my first post of this--so embarrassing. The rhyme doesn't flow as nicely but at least it's fixed. [21-Mar-09]