06. Fall of the Pillar

"Big shot screaming, 'Put your hands in the sky,'

He says, 'Give it up, boy, give it up or you're gonna die,'

You'll get a bullet in the back of the neck,

In the back of the neck right between the eyes."

From Hands In the Sky (Big Shot) by Straylight Run

"Where is Dr. Hojo?" The President wanted to know. Reeve looked away. He didn't like to be the one to tell President Shinra what the man didn't want to hear. Nobody did.

"I don't – we don't know, sir. He's been missing. Not answering our calls."

"Damn scientists and their ways," the President muttered, waving a distracted hand at Reeve. "Well, then, get out."

"Actually, Mister President, there was something I wanted to discuss…" Reeve started, carefully, measuring the President's annoyance in his head. A loud knock interrupted him; followed by a mass of green suit and bushy brown beard. Heidegger barged in, beaming.

Never a good sign.

"Heidegger!" The President greeted him. "How's the preparation going?"

"Smoothly, sir, very smoothly! I assigned the Turks to the job." Heidegger laughed; it came out like a bark. This was his chance, Reeve thought quickly. It was now or never.

"Mister President, sir. About that… are we really going to do this? The Turks report that AVALANCHE is most likely a small group, maybe ten people at the most…"

"What's the problem, Reeve? Getting scared?" The President wheeled around in his chair to face Reeve. Reeve took in the haughty self-assurance on his face, suppressed an urge to throw something (a stapler, for instance) at that face.

"It's not that. It's not about me," Reeve tried, despite the defeat he already tasted on his tongue. "Total evacuation is impossible; there are bound to be civilian casualties. I know this, sir, because as the head of the Urban Development Department, I've been…"

"What's that word again, Heidegger?" The President turned his head.

"Collateral damage, sir?"

"Yes, yes. Read my mind, my man." He turned back to Reeve. "Reeve, my friend, you should have flushed those personal problems in the morning. Or maybe you should have designed the city better."

"It's not a personal…"

"You're tired, Mr. Tuesti," the President cut in, the wide smile disappearing from his face quickly. "Why don't you take some time off, go somewhere warm maybe?"

The tone of his voice made it clear that it wasn't a suggestion. He wheeled around to watch the sky out his full window.

"Yes, sir." He looked at the shiny silver stapler on the President's desk, then at the back of the man's head.

Reeve Tuesti walked out of the room.

He knew how to read between the lines. This was one of Heidegger's more "brilliant" ideas; to kill two birds with one stone. Not only would they crush AVALANCHE, they'd find (through an anonymous but reliable source) some evidence that it had all been AVALANCHE's doing from the first place. There were victims already standing by, ready to lie. Then Shinra would send in a rescue team. Everyone's hero. Reeve wondered if he should have thrown that stapler at the President's face anyway. No, he decided, that would be a stupid thing to do. Not only would he lose his job (and probably go to prison for the rest of his life), it wouldn't stop anything. No, he needed something – cleverer. If not to stop this plan, then the next one.

There was an idea forming in his head; he cradled it carefully, walking back to his office.

Crossing the Wall Market then Sector Six was going to take too much time. Tifa knew a shortcut straight to Sector Seven. It was through the sewers, not that anyone had the mind to complain.

Cloud climbed in first. The smell hit him first; he vaguely thought of rotten fish, but it didn't matter; it also didn't matter that it was yet another tight, narrow space. If the dizzying stench didn't numb him, the loud, crashing voices in his head would. He heard Aerith and Tifa climb down the ladder after him.

"You alright?" He asked, waiting for his vision to adjust to the sudden darkness.

"Considering, yeah," Tifa said. Her voice multiplied against the metal walls.

Cloud squinted. "There's a – narrow patch of brick against the walls. Like a sidewalk."

For a while they walked in silence. There was nothing to say, anyway. Cloud tried not to think about the fact that Barret, Jessie, Biggs and Wedge all hadn't answered their phones. Maybe it was too late. Maybe it would be smoking, broken remains that they would see, like the last time. Too late. He listened to his own breathing. Maybe he was already dead, too – had been, all this time. Too late.

Cloud climbed out the sewer, breaking open the lid. Light – as dim as it was, under-plate – exploded against his eyes. He held out his hand for Aerith and Tifa.

They were in the train graveyard. Broken trains, all dead, stood guard around them, eerily silent. The pillar hadn't broken yet.

"We still have time," Tifa said.

"Yeah, but we don't know how much," Cloud said. "Which way's the station?"

Maybe they both knew it was (too late) a slim chance, but the sewer-stench had carried out into the air and they were numb, still. Cloud turned to Aerith.

"Aerith, you go home. Please. I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all this."

"Honestly, Cloud. By now you should know – I don't listen to my own mother."

"But you can't –" Cloud felt like he would shatter against his words, the lack of it, the inadequacy. "Do you know how to disarm a bomb?"

"Do you?" Aerith said. She smiled a little; she would die smiling, Cloud thought.

"Come on, then, let's go."

They started running, in between dead, broken trains.

People were running in all directions, not sure where to go. Sector Seven Station had never seen so much – people, chaos, noise. It was almost like a festival, Tifa thought distantly, if not for all the screaming and the gunshots. The thing about running from a falling sky was that there was nowhere to run to.

Gunshots. They were coming from up the stairs, up the pillar. They were still fighting. Barret, Biggs, Jessie, Wedge, everyone. Tifa felt her heart beat fast. Maybe it wasn't too late.

"You here that?" Cloud said, eyes wild, maybe also hoping. They ran against the tide of people to the pillar, up the sky, to stop it cracking.

On the second floor they saw Wedge.

Wedge, slumped against the wall, blood dripping slowly, glasses askew on his boyish face.

"Barret's up top," he said into Cloud's shoulder. Tifa hadn't seen Cloud dart out, in an useless attempt to help Wedge sit up. She was frozen in the spot, which was stupid, but Wedge's normally quiet voice carried to where she stood easily enough. "Help him, and… I'm sorry. I wasn't – much – any – help."

Maybe Cloud said something to that, but Tifa didn't hear. Wedge took a deep breath, and was still. Cloud adjusted his glasses, even though they were broken. Blood made patterns on his white face.

"Let's go," Cloud said as he ran past her. "We have to go help Barret."

Tifa took one last look at Wedge. She turned to Aerith, who hadn't moved either, who wasn't staring at Wedge but somewhere above his limp body – like she was searching for something. "Aerith, listen. Could you do me a favor? I have a bar called Seventh Heaven just north of the station – and there' a little girl called Marlene."

"Don't worry. I'll get her somewhere safe."

Aerith took one look at Cloud, who'd stopped halfway up the stairs, and started running back the way they came. Tifa wondered if she thought this was goodbye – and maybe she'd regret not having said anything, later, but then it would be too late.

Tifa followed Cloud up the stairs.

Biggs was already dead at the fourth floor. Slouched over the metal fence, staring at his death through the mess of burnt hair. There was the smell of fire, the loud clanging of gunshots, all so tangible, almost. Someone was still alive. Tifa watched Cloud close Biggs's eyes, his face dead (wrong choice of words, Tifa thought, but maybe Biggs would be amused – he'd had the weirdest sense of humor).

Jessie wouldn't be alive, Tifa knew. She would have watched Wedge and Biggs fall; she wouldn't be alive. They found her staring up a few floors up. It was Tifa who ran to her first this time, because she thought – she could have sworn she saw her blink, Jessie, and smile; she was warm, still, wet and slippery with all the blood, but she was already dead. Tifa wiped the blood on her dress; it looked like petals floating on water.

Cloud touched her shoulder. There would be time later, Tifa thought, to think of them and grieve them and say thank you for being family, and maybe listen to that story of Biggs's teen years Jessie's always promised to tell but never did.

So she nodded to Cloud, and they both ran up the last stairs.

When they reached the top of the pillar, Barret was taking cover behind the control tower, while a helicopter fired ceaselessly over everything, breaking concrete. Barret yelled over the noise at them.

"Tifa! Cloud! You came – be careful an' run over here quickly!"

Cloud and Tifa lowered their bodies and ran. A small fire exploded where they'd been standing a second ago. Cloud heard the bullets showering over them, near them. He caught his breath against the cover of the control room, not that it was going to last much longer; the helicopter was trying to change the angle, to fly over.

"Barret – we saw Jessie and Biggs and Wedge –" Tifa said. Barret nodded, fired another round over the edge and ducked down again.

"I know, Tifa, I –"

Sudden silence interrupted him. Cloud could still smell gunpowder everywhere, but the firing had stopped.

"I know you're behind there!" A voice shouted. "And I could – you know – fly over your sleazy cover and finish you, but I won't bother 'cause yer going down anyways."

The voice fell into place inside Cloud's head; it was Reno, the Turk who'd come for Aerith.

"It's too late to stop me!" Reno continued. "Once I press this button…"

Cloud risked a look over the cover, just in time to catch Reno pushing a red button on the control panel of the helicopter. It was flying quite low; if Cloud ran, he could probably jump and make it into the helicopter, push Reno off…

"That's all, folks! Mission accomplished… Agh!" Reno yelped; Cloud had jumped, landed inside the helicopter, and Reno stumbled until he fell through the open opposite door. Cloud barely had the time to glimpse the end of his flaming red hair before Tifa jumped in after him. He hoped he hadn't killed him.

"We have to disarm it – Cloud, I don't know how to stop this. Take a look."

Cloud looked at the complicated mess of colorful wires on the panel. He'd been taught basic bomb disarmament, but not ones as complicated as this, and besides – he couldn't remember a single thing – although he was sure he'd been taught –

"It's not a normal time bomb," he said instead, glaring at the wires and hoping they would sort themselves out. But it wasn't Tifa who answered.

"That's right. You'll have a hard time disarming that one. Might as well give up now."

It wasn't Reno, either. Another helicopter was flying low, close enough to see the person in it but too far to jump into. It was another Turk, Cloud gathered from his uniform; black hair neatly tied into a short ponytail; the man had cold eyes. Cloud thought he was the head of the Turks, though he wasn't really sure what made him think that.

"In fact," he carried on, in a level voice. "Only a Shinra Executive can set up or disarm the Emergency Plate Release System. You need a pass code."

"I suppose I can't just ask you for it," Cloud muttered.

"Hey! Shut yer hole and stop this nonsense!" Barret hollered at the Turk from below, firing his gun-arm at the general direction of the second blue helicopter. It maneuvered out of the way.

"I wouldn't try that!" The Turk called. "You might hurt our special guest."

He opened the door of the helicopter a little wider, and then Cloud saw a second person inside – it didn't seem all that real. He stared.

"Aerith!" Tifa called.

He'd let her go – no, it might have been more dangerous staying here, but still – he'd dragged her into the whole thing – never mind that she wouldn't go, the truth was he didn't want her to go. Something about this whole thing with him falling through her roof, the yellow flowers, the patch of sky between plates; he'd deluded himself (again) into thinking it was something like fate.

"What do you want with Aerith? Why are you after her?" His voice, though, came out calmer than he felt. The Turk seemed to consider him, at the panel at Cloud's side.

"Our orders were to find and capture the last remaining Ancient," he finally answered, voice slow. "I have no knowledge of what is planned for her afterwards."

"Tifa!" Aerith suddenly called, leaning a little forward out the window. "Don't worry about – she's alright!"

"Enough," the man cut her off, slamming the door shut. Then the helicopter flew away. Before Cloud could say anything, before he could think anything, the control panels were beeping and Tifa was pulling him arm, then they were jumping and she said something that was drowned out by all the noise. Barret was gesturing wildly at something by his side. A wire. He grabbed it, pulled it free; all the noise, it was hard to think, so he just pulled and pulled and as soon as they crashed onto the ground and let go of the wire, the bomb went off.

They didn't even have time to cover their heads, before the pillar exploded. And fell down. The world was a messy blur; Cloud felt his body flatten against the ground, felt the noises. It didn't get better when the smoke finally cleared and they slowly sat up, checking to make sure that they all had their limbs in place. They did.

But then they turned around and saw the mess. The pillar broken, the slum crushed, people who hadn't yet escaped lying about scattered, crushed, limbs and faces missing.

For the first time in years, sunlight from a clear blue sky.

The wire had taken them far. They had landed in the Sector Six playground, where Aerith and Cloud had sat and looked at nothing and hadn't talked. It was now littered with smoking debris from Sector Seven (or what used to be).

Barret fired at the debris, the sound of gunshots echoing eerily through nothing.

"Barret, Barret! Calm down!" Tifa put a hand on his arm.

"But Tifa! Biggs, Jessie, Wedge… Marlene…"

"Marlene is safe." Tifa said. Barret turned his head finally, and Cloud had perhaps expected tears, but there were none; only hatred and anger that exploded red into debris.

"What?" He breathed, not daring to hope.

"Right before they took Aerith, she said don't worry, she's alright. She was talking about Marlene. I asked her to take her somewhere safe…" She trailed off, and Cloud knew why (too familiar). He could tell her it wasn't her fault, but she probably already knew that.

"Thanks, Tifa," Barret said, taking a breath. He flopped down heavily onto the ground. Dusty smoke flew up in the air. "But they're dead, ain't they?"

"They…" Tifa started to speak, but then stopped. It wasn't really a question, anyway. Cloud looked at her, waiting, but she didn't say anything else. There was wind sweeping through the scraps of metal and wood, and it reminded him that it was early December still, start of winter.

"Do you think…" She started again. "That it's our fault? Because AVALANCHE was here? I mean, innocent people lost their lives because of…"

Barret stood up. "No, Tifa!" He was getting worked up again, face turning red. "That ain't it! Hell, no!" He started pacing back and forth. "It ain't us! It's the damn Shinra… It's never been nobody but the Shinra! Do you believe me?"

"I suppose."

Cloud watched Tifa's eyelashes making dancing shadows on her face. Another gush of wind. He realized he'd been absently rubbing his fingers together, as if to erase a stain. He stopped. Suddenly it felt like too much; looking at Tifa and Barret, their dead faces, her green eyes, how messed up this all was. He turned around.

"Yo! Where's he think he's goin'?" Barret growled behind him. Cloud kept walking.

"Aerith!" Cloud heard Tifa gasp. "They took Aerith."

"Oh, yeah. That girl. What's the deal with her?" Barret asked.

"I don't really know, but she's the one I left Marlene with –"

"Damn! Yo, wait up, Cloud!"

Cloud stopped walking. Barret and Tifa caught up with him and he realized, suddenly, that Tifa was still wearing that blue dress, though she was barefoot now, without the heels. He wondered if it really was this morning that he'd looked at himself in the mirror and felt like dying.

"Take me to Marlene," Barret demanded.

"You're going to rescue Aerith?" Tifa asked. Cloud looked at her feet, bare and cut; bleeding, but she probably hadn't noticed it yet.

"Yeah," he said. "But before that, there's something I want to know."

"What?"

"About the Ancients."

Because he remembered something else.

In my veins courses the blood of the Ancients.

That was a voice he knew well, he would've thought, but he wasn't so sure anymore; Sephiroth's voice. He couldn't remember when he'd said it or where he'd heard it, but he remembered. His dead, raging, blazing green eyes. And now the Turk was saying that Aerith was one, too. He had to know.

But before that.

"Tifa," he said. "You're not wearing shoes."

"What?" She looked surprised, looking down at her feet. Cloud glanced at Barret's gun-arm, and unhooked his sword from his back.

"It's a long way to Aerith's house. I'll carry you, c'mon."

"But –" Tifa started to protest, looking a little flustered. But there was nothing else they could do, anyway, and she climbed on his back but she was hesitant. Strange, Cloud thought, because she sometimes used to demand that he piggyback her when they were kids, and get cross when he didn't. He supposed that they had grown up; but all this Mako-enhanced strength, he hardly felt a thing.