Breakdown
Kirian had hated this assignment from the very beginning; Nibelheim in late autumn was stupidly cold and lacked anything even slightly civilised. At least the company had been decent: Cloud Strife had been part of the investigation team sent by the Company and was about as good a conversationalist as was possible for someone who wasn't a Turk. Despite Nibelheim being Strife's hometown the blond had no particular fondness for it and was happy to commiserate with the gunman regarding the lack of amenities, dreadful weather and painfully backward locals. Kirian understood perfectly why the blond had got out as soon as he could.
The Turk had stayed in the inn while Strife and the General had cleared out the reactor, but when on their return Sephiroth had been medically incapacitated he had assisted the blond Second-class in protecting his mentor throughout the following week. Cloud was as close to a Turk as a person could get without putting on the blue suit and the General was a ShinRa asset. Well, that was the official reason Tseng had given him; Kirian had heard the rumours that Sephiroth was related to Vincent Valentine and suspected there was more truth in them than not.
Of course, today everything had gone to Hel: Sephiroth had got up before sunrise, ghosted out of the inn and set the town on fire before heading up to the reactor. Cloud had told Kirian to call Tseng and help the two surviving infantrymen rescue the civilians, then hared off up the mountain after the General. Kirian had called Tseng and been ordered to follow after the two SOLDIERs, which he had done at normal human speed as opposed to the Mako-fueled dash only SOLDIERs could achieve. He'd just arrived at the reactor when Strife had come out, Sephiroth slung over his shoulder, the silver hair on the back of the General's head matted with blood and thicker things.
Kirian was a shooter; he'd seen that kind of wound countless times, frequently on his targets: someone had shot Sephiroth in the head at close range. Judging by the quantity of vibrant red spatter on Strife's uniform and the gore dripping from the swords the Second-class had in his weapons' harness, the General's death had been avenged. Then Kirian spotted the wolves following the SOLDIER, the wild, empty look on Cloud's face and the opaque, luminous green glow that filled the blond's eye-sockets.
Cloud Strife, SOLDIER Second-class, had snapped. The death of his mentor had sent the teenager completely off his rocker. He'd read reports of this kind of thing happening, usually with those more Mako-sensitive SOLDIERs who suffered a severe trauma. Strife was on the sensitive end of the spectrum and had just seen the General murdered.
The Turk watched the blond vanish off up the mountainside, a small pack of Nibel wolves at his heels like trained dogs, then flipped open his PHS. He needed to tell Tseng that the most promising SOLDIER in the program had gone feral and that the General had been murdered.
On that note, who the hell would shoot Sephiroth?
Three hours later, when Tseng arrived in a helicopter with reinforcements that included SOLDIER First-class Zack Fair, Kirian knew exactly who had shot Sephiroth. Damn Hojo. At least the man was dead now;cloud had reduced the sociopath professor to so much diced meat. The bullet embedded in a support and the scattered skull fragments with bits of silver-haired scalp attached confirmed Sephiroth's demise. The burnt-out cylinder was puzzling, but probably connected to whatever Hojo had been doing up here in the first place.
Kirian waited outside the reactor for the forensic team to finish, standing guard with the rest of his colleagues who had been called on.
"Hojo shot Sephiroth and Cloud killed Hojo," Hilary muttered, nunchaku swinging absently as his blond curls were ruffled by the stinging breeze, "but where do the wolves come in? They ripped the troopers apart but Cloud was just fine. Yes, SOLDIERs do occasionally go completely bat-shit insane but I've never heard of them getting adopted by the local wildlife. So what are we missing?"
There was a chuckling chorus from above. The Turks scattered, drawing weapons and glancing around for the intruder until Tseng stepped out of the reactor with a hand raised, calling for calm.
"Chaos, show yourself."
A bat-winged, red-cloaked seven-foot humanoid with glowing golden eyes dropped out of nowhere onto a rocky outcrop and grinned toothily at Tseng, revealing more canine teeth than a normal mouth should ever contain. "Fenrir has risen, little mask; the wolf is ascendant. Odin's bane walks the Planet once more, bound by six impossible things until the ending of the world."
"What is Fenrir?" Tseng demanded, face stern but manner polite.
"What is Materia, masklet?"
"Materia is crystallised Mako," Zack Fair said shortly, emerging from the reactor to scowl at the intruder. "Chaos, where the hell is Cloud?"
"Patience, little hound. What is Mako?"
"Mako is liquid Lifestream, Chaos," the First-class said impatiently. "Now: Where. Is. Cloud?"
"So the Lifestream is the souls and memories of the dead, little hound. So if Materia is memories is crystal form, what are summons?"
Zack froze, eyes wide, as did the listening Turks. "Summons are souls?" the First-class asked softly.
"Indeed, little hound; mighty souls too powerful to simply fade into obscurity. Heroes and gods and demons granted a semblance of life. Now, little hound, little mask, what do you suppose would occur should Mako that contained the potential to become a summoning Materia be injected into a mortal SOLDIER?"
Tseng caught on first. "Cloud has been possessed by a summons, become like you and gained human form."
"Almost, little mask. The little wolf has become Fenrir and the Wolf has become the Hero. Both are one in body and spirit, protector and destroyer in a single flesh and of one mind; a melding rather than an imprisonment or possession. The wolves serve him because they recognise him: Fenrir Odin-slayer, father of wolves, killer of gods, son of the Trickster who heralded the end, as I was then before Ragnarök when I walked the Planet within my own flesh." Chaos grinned, the expression of sheer glee altogether disconcerting. "Strife has always been my favourite mortal. So aptly named and so favoured by Gaia that I only needed to help the process on a little bit. Fear not; the man is stronger-willed than the wolf, so it is the warrior who will return. He will come for vengeance over the death of the little dragon, if for nothing else."
"But Hojo's dead already," Hilary pointed out.
Chaos chuckled. "Who aided and abetted? Who turned a blind eye? Who provided the means and the funds? My little wolf-warrior will show no mercy to those who were party to the little madman's perversions. Let ShinRa tremble, for the God-slayer walks the Planet once more and his silken bonds are loosed!" The leathery-winged quasi-summon cackled like a chorus of lunatics and shot into the air, vanishing into the mist.
"Damn," Tseng swore into the stunned silence. "Zack, return to ShinRa and order a recall to all SOLDIERs. Hilary, supervise the cleanup here. We need to leave Nibelheim before whatever Strife is now decides that our following orders from the President is as good a reason as any to kill us. Further investigations can wait until things have settled down again."
Kirian sighed, re-holstering his two handguns as he hurried over to the helicopter. He really, really hated this mission.
Tadaaa! Chaos' hand is revealed, as is a little of his background. He also takes the opportunity to strike terror into the heart of mortals, but who could resist panicking the Turks?
