22. Black

"If I could be with you tonight I would sing you to sleep

Never let them take the light behind your eyes

One day I'll lose this fight, as we fade in the dark

Just remember you will always burn as bright."

From The Light Behind Your Eyes by My Chemical Romance

Goodbye,

Aerith felt Cloud's eyes on her the whole time. He knew something was wrong, and he was trying to figure out what it was. Aerith saw him frowning. It made her laugh, poor Cloud. Her laugh only confused him further.

"So, this is it," Cait Sith said. He bounced a few steps ahead of them. Aerith looked up and found an ancient temple high up in the mountains. There were white marble stairs leading up to it. A maze of trees at the foot of the hill which grew scarce as her eyes traveled up. They looked like jewels to her, the trees, deep green, light green, yellow green. All of them like emeralds - a cascade of jewels that fell in waves from the top to fall into a splash, a pool by the foot. At the top of it stood a small white temple, shining against the sun like a tiny white pearl.

"It's beautiful," Aerith said. Cloud looked at her, and she could tell that he was trying to figure out if Aerith was still mad about Cait Sith. The truth was, though, that anger did not last long in Aerith. The Planet was so huge that her tiny flicker of red got lost in the lifestream, in all that green.

But the others, they were all still angry. Barret was furious that Marlene had been taken hostage; it took Cloud and Vincent and Nanaki to stop him from smashing Cait Sith on the spot. Curiously (or perhaps not so much), Tifa did nothing to stop Barret. Yuffie was confused, pouting still. Cid murmured something about the toy cat looking suspicious from the beginning. Too goddamn cheerful.

All the while, Aerith was feeling a warmth of scarlet beating in her chest; tender, soft, fragile. Human hearts beat like miracles.

"This is the Temple of the Ancients, all right. I know, I feel it," she said.

"Feel what?" Cid asked; Cid was a scientist and an engineer, and he had a natural suspicion towards anything that didn't have a formula. Aerith only smiled.

"The knowledge of the Ancients, floating. For the future. For us."

She was reading whispers in the wind. The familiar thud in her whole being, the warmth, the color green. The color of the lifestream that surrounded everybody. Aerith closed her eyes. As if as an answer, a wind breezed past her.

"What are you saying? Do you - know what it's saying?" It was Cloud. Aerith opened her eyes to meet his.

It surprised her that he should be looking at her with those blue eyes, she didn't know why.

"No, not really. I think we'd need to go inside to find out."

She led the way into the temple. Walked the steps one by one. Each step she took, she felt the air change, the wind shift, the silent smell of trees and forest melting and twirl around her.

Inside the temple, though, the colors and light cut off abruptly, and before she could process what she was seeing, Cloud was pushing forward with a certain sense of responsibility, shielding her from - Tseng, she found, who was slumped against the altar in the middle of the room. The strip of sunlight disappeared from his face as Tifa shut the door behind them with a thud. The flickering orange light from the torches cast shadows on the walls. Tseng opened his eyes slowly. There was no blood, but he was in pain. Aerith felt his injured heartbeats getting weaker.

"Aerith," Tseng coughed. Aerith sat herself in front of him, looking into his eyes. Deep black. It made her sad to watch and remember. She stood up and turned; heard Tseng's voice echo behind her.

"It's not the Promised Land that... Sephiroth is searching for," he was saying in a staggering whisper, presumably to Cloud.

"Sephiroth? He's inside?" Barret said.

"Look… for yourself…" Tseng said. He coughed again; blood spilled this time, she could smell it. Yuffie squirmed. "Letting Aerith go was the beginning of our… downfall," Tseng said, with uncharacteristically brutal honesty. "The President was wrong."

Aerith turned at the mention of her own name.

"You're wrong," she told Tseng, softly, as if he could hear it better that way. "The Promised Land isn't like what you imagined. And I wasn't going to help you anyway. The Shinra couldn't have won."

She walked away before Tseng could answer to her face, thinking that he hadn't changed much over the last five years since the incident. She heard Tseng murmur something about a keystone. She remained where she was facing the wall, tracing the patterns on the stones. She heard footsteps and didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

The footsteps stopped just behind her. There was a pause. Tseng was still talking, presumably something important, but it didn't reach Aerith where she was.

"You crying?"

And he sounded so awkward, so young all of a sudden, that despite everything Aerith had to smile. She felt it spread across her face like a drop of water on the surface of a lake, rippling softly. She shook her head and turned around to face Cloud. The orange lights cast dancing shadows on the side of his face.

"I'm not crying. It's sad, that's all," Aerith explained. Cloud nodded slowly. Aerith thought he would've nodded like that too if she had said Tseng was her brother. Cloud would have just nodded to anything and that would've been that.

Tseng was just handing a small square-shaped stone to Cid. Cid promptly shoved it in Cloud's hand.

"Where've you been? Aren't ya the leader of these miserable numbskulls?"

"Hey, that includes you too, old man!" Yuffie jumped.

"I'm not –"

"What do we do with the keystone?" Aerith asked. Tseng pointed at the top of the altar, to a small square dent just big enough for the stone to fit in. Aerith smiled, an apology for the things that had to turn out this way.

Cloud put the keystone in the dent. Gears clicked and whirred. The floor in front of them slid sideways to reveal a staircase leading down. A set of footsteps was on the otherwise undisturbed layer of dust. Tseng going down; but not climbing up. He must have taken another route.

Aerith didn't look back; felt that it would be the last time, somehow, and it scared her. She took a step down the stairs. Then another, and another.

The stone hatch slammed shut as soon as Tifa, the last of them, made all the way down the stairs. Everybody jumped at the sound. Vincent was up the stairs in another second. His long, pale fingers searched the smooth stone ceiling. It almost looked as if the door itself was a figment of their imaginations.

"No exits. We can't turn back this way." Vincent said. No answers. Cloud stared at the ceiling for a while, then started walking without saying anything. Dust and crumbs fell occasionally. Torch lights flared on the wall; dyed the corridors deep orange. Still shadows lingered in the corners.

We have been waiting for you.

Aerith stopped suddenly. Her heart was beating fast. She quickly fell behind. Vincent was the first to look back when Aerith didn't walk on.

"What is it?" He asked.

We have been waiting long.

"I'm sorry," Aerith answered. Her voice came out as a whisper that echoed. Yuffie took a step closer to her.

"What? What are you sorry for, Aerith?" She asked. Everybody was confused. Aerith found Cloud's gaze and held it. She hoped she sounded sure when she spoke.

"I'm hearing their voices." She said as an explanation.

"Voices? Whose?" Cid asked.

"The Ancients…" It was Cloud who answered.

"They said they'd been waiting a long time for me." Aerith closed her eyes. Senses rushed through her. She could hear the sound of Vincent's cloak brushing the wall. Yuffie shuffling uncomfortably. The rhythmic tap, tap of Cid's spear on the ground.

She could also hear the voices, the murmurs, clear and strong and pure, the energy and lifestream pouring into it unfiltered.

"They say… they've been away from their Planet for a long time. To protect this Temple. Over the many years they've lost the ability to talk."

"So they can only talk to you? Because you're an Ancient?" Tifa asked. Aerith shook her head.

"They're not exactly… talking to me. Communicating. But not talking." She tried to explain. She could see that it made no sense. But the warmth, the sense of direction that flooded her with every emotion she'd ever felt! How could she explain that?

"There is only one objective for those left in the Temple, and that…"

Abrupt ending. Aerith opened her eyes in alarm. The feeling had stopped. Aerith felt all her senses numb like cold water had been splashed all over. The echoes faded. The warmth was gone. There was only a faint trace of an emotion left in the air.

Fear.

"What? What's wrong?" Yuffie asked. Aerith shook her head slowly, dazed.

"I… don't know. It suddenly stopped. Just… stopped. I didn't get the rest. But it looks like they're afraid."

"Of what?" Vincent asked. His body tensed. Aerith shook her head, but she shared his unease. Everybody did.

"Is it because Sephiroth is in the Temple… do you think?" Tifa asked quietly.

"Maybe," Cloud said. Aerith couldn't see beyond his silent face, even with her heightened senses.

"Guess we'll never know 'less we keep goin'." Barret decided, then started walking again. Aerith followed the group a step behind. She wished the voices would return.

Cloud thought about what Aerith had heard. He wondered how they sounded.

He wondered if he was hearing voices too (maybe not the Ancients, but something else more real and substantial than his cracked mind), and just not knowing it.

As they made their way deeper into the strange temple, they came across a break in the familiar pattern. There was a hole in the wall, just a small dent. Cloud slid his fingers over the wall. Smooth. Nothing happened. But when Aerith touched the surface, the wall began to glow. It was a glow that Cloud knew well.

"What the –? What is that?" Yuffie jumped back. Aerith stayed where she was. Bright green light started pouring out through the cracks. The glow of Mako – the lifestream? Everybody stared as the glow took a form of liquid and gathered beneath the hole in a small puddle. It then melted into the air around, scent sweet and sour and a little sad; wasted away. It felt like remnants, remains.

"What is it, Aerith?" Nanaki asked quietly. Aerith didn't take her eyes off the glimmering puddle.

"It's full of the knowledge of the Ancients. No, not knowledge… consciousness… a living soul. It's trying to say something," She paused. Leaned forward, as she would to a child. Tender and gentle. " … I'm sorry, I don't understand."

Cloud wasn't sure if she was talking to the consciousness, or to them. He crouched down beside her. He watched her watch the light puddle. The green glow was casting a green shadow on her. Shimmering, dancing.

"Wait, I think I hear… Danger?"

Nanaki growled softly as he looked around, up, down for any signs of danger. Aerith closed her eyes.

"An evil… consciousness? …Show. You're going to show me?"

"Whaddya mean sh…"

Before Barret could finish, Cloud felt his entire world shake. He thought it was an earthquake, but his surrounding still looked calm. The puddle was still on the ground, unmoving and without even a single ripple on the surface. He gripped his own arm; he wasn't shaking, either. He met Tifa's wide eyes and knew she was experiencing the same thing. Aerith still had her eyes closed.

She looked so peaceful that he was suddenly afraid. He thought he might lose her, but couldn't say why.

Then his vision shifted. He was witnessing something entirely new. The scene was a little hazy, like watching an old film, but he could recognize the face. It was Tseng, standing in front of a mural, observing it. Cloud couldn't quite make out the exact shapes of the mural. It was intricate and vast.

"It's showing us," Cloud heard Aerith murmur and saw her open her eyes without really seeing. He was still watching the strange scene. He saw that Tseng was now running his palms across the mural.

There was another presence. Elena walked into the frame. The vision shifted slightly to include her. Then their voices, which was a little like hearing them underwater.

Sir, I mean, Tseng, what's this? Can we find the Promised Land with this?

… I wonder. Tseng answered, looking thoughtful. Anyway, we have to report to the President.

Okay, I'm on it. And… Elena hesitated. Tseng turned around to look at her.

Yes?

Be careful, Tseng.

Don't worry about me.

Cloud couldn't see Elena's face, only the back of her head. The scene blurred a little bit as Elena exited, and Tseng was left alone. He took a step back trying to see more of the mural.

Is this the Promised Land? No, it can't be… He murmured. He turned his head, seemingly noticing something out of the frame. His black eyes widened. Then he said,

Sephiroth…?

"So you opened the door. Well done."

Cloud almost jumped and looked back. He thought Sephiroth had come inside the room with them. His voice, unlike Tseng and Elena's, rang clear and deep, like he was right behind them. But then Sephiroth walked into the frame with Tseng. Tseng backed away, an anxious expression coloring his black and white features.

This place… what is it?

"A lost treasure house of knowledge. The wisdom of the Ancients… I am becoming one with the Planet," Sephiroth answered.

Cloud watched the familiar features. The familiar gestures. The graceful way in which he carried himself.

One with the Planet?

"I'm sure you have never even thought about it." Sephiroth moved in closer. One emotion was clear on his face, even in the hazy screen: disdain.

"All the spirit energy of this Planet. All its wisdom… knowledge… I will meld with it all. I will become one with it… it will become one with me."

You can do that?

"The way lies here."

That was so familiar too. How you'd blink your eye, take a breath, then Sephiroth would be flying, slashing, cutting, retreating. The perpetual smirk on his face. It was disdain and a little bit of pity, too; pity for all that was weak. How he stood on top of them all, wearing a crown of blood and tears. Fire, lust, power.

Tseng fell to the ground.

"Only death awaits. But not to fear. For it is through death that a new spirit energy is born. Soon, you will live again as a part of me."

The scene blurred, shook, and was finally gone.

Cloud blinked, trying to clear his vision. Colors came back first. He took in the shimmering green of the puddle, then deep green of Aerith's eyes. The grey stone walls. He remembered where he was.

"Did you see it?" Aerith asked.

"I saw it." Tifa answered. She was still looking dazed.

"Oh, grossness!" Yuffie squirmed. "Live again as a part of me." She dropped her voice low mimicking the deep grind of Sephiroth's voice.

"So what's the catch?" Cid grumbled.

" … Where is the room with the pictures on the walls?" Cloud said.

"Almost there," Aerith answered, getting up, pointing further down the corridor. The dark gap between the torches were becoming wider. Cloud didn't know how far down the ground they'd come. Judging by the heaviness of his chest, pretty deep. The corridors were becoming narrower too.

"Sephiroth is here." He said, mostly to distract himself from the heaviness in his chest. "In this Temple. And it's going to end here. I'm gonna take him out."

He wondered if he really believed most of what he said. Sometimes he had doubts. Sometimes he thought he might just be fooling himself.

"You mean we are, right?" Barret said.

"We're here too, you know." Tifa raised an eyebrow.

"I know." Cloud answered, simply, it being the only thing he could say.

"I have nothing to do with it, but I guess I'll lend a hand." Yuffie said generously. Barret scoffed.

"Guess you youngsters gotta be enthusiastic like that," Cid growled.

The mural room was a circular room with complicated veins of paintings stretching far, now merging, now dividing. People, buildings, suns, waters, fires. They seemed to be showing a progression. Cloud swept his eyes across them, following their story.

People were standing outside the Temple.

They were walking in a long procession, in the second painting.

They were standing around the altar in the Temple. The one that Tseng had leaned on.

They were now standing near a low table with two jar-like objects on it.

A woman was holding a black object high above her head; Black Materia. The black paint was generously splashing around the sphere in a vaguely swirling shape, depicting its power. Above, in the sky, a meteor was falling and leaving a burning tail like a scar.

People were looking about; confusion, chaos.

The last painting: people were dying in flames, like in Nibelheim. Cloud stared at that part a little longer than the rest before he forced his eyes off.

His head was starting to ache.

"This is the room with the murals…" Aerith said.

"Where are you?" Cloud muttered. Where are you, Sephiroth?

Head throbbing, squeezing his veins and pressing his temples. The world did a spin. Cloud blinked. Then another. Then he was there.

"Sephiroth!" Somebody yelled. It could have been Barret, it could have been Cid, or Tifa, or Aerith, or it didn't really matter. Cloud was staring at him and that was all there was for the prolonged moment. Sephiroth. Sephiroth.

He was walking toward Cloud now.

Like they were still friends, Sephiroth was smiling. Cloud watched Sephiroth walk closer. He couldn't find the strength to move a finger; he just watched.

"I'm always near," he said, and Cloud realized after a beat that he was answering his question. His deep voice sparked something in him, a feeling of hatred cold empty sadness and it was going to explode.

"Come."

Sephiroth smiled.

He walked to one of the murals, the mural depicting a meteor-fall and the woman with the Black Materia. Cloud watched himself following Sephiroth.

"I don't understand," Cloud said. Sephiroth pointed the painting.

"Look closely," he told Cloud, sounding amused about something.

"At what?" Cloud didn't know what they were doing, having a conversation like this, calmly, like it had all been a dream.

"At that which adds to the knowledge of…" Sephiroth paused, narrowing his eyes at Cloud. He was looking for something on his face.

And evidently, he found it. Sephiroth's smirk broadened, twisted.

I am becoming one with the Planet.

He whispered the last words. Cloud found himself paralyzed; he watched himself watching Sephiroth walk away. Strangely silent. He could not move a muscle. He noticed that the room was empty. Where had the others gone? Vision, sprawling, twisting, turning, exploding. Dark and then light and then something in between. He felt his back hit the mural wall, noted it was cold and hard without knowing what that meant. Protruded edges of uncut stones scraped his back as he slid down. He tried getting up, but couldn't. He heard a voice, or two, or three… Calling? Shouting…

He was falling into something endless and very dark, something more frightening than anything else any bloody massacre he had seen so far it had the color of sickly green Mako and swirling forever trapped inside his own body and

And he heard something else.

Wake up!

He opened his eyes. He couldn't remember when he'd closed them. His vision was blurry, swaying. He focused on what he could see. The black… the silver…

Sephiroth's back. He had his back to him. Slowly the sounds came back, creeping in like a puddle slowly spreading after a rainfall. The trickling water, sound of wind. And something else. Her voice; he was confused - was that what woke him? He seemed to remember someone's voice...

"One with the Planet… but how are you going to do that?" Aerith asked.

It was coming from far away. No, close; she was talking to Sephiroth, who was blocking the entrance to the room Cloud was slumped in. And Cloud now saw that it wasn't the mural room after all. Just a spare dark room, nothing but leaking ceiling and rough stone walls. Very dark. The faint orange glow from the outside, which Sephiroth was almost blocking entirely anyway, was the only source of light. Aerith was out there. Probably others, too, but Cloud couldn't see them and they couldn't see him.

"Simple." Sephiroth, answering. Voice smooth and easy. "Once the Planet is hurt, it gathers Spirit Energy to heal the injury. The amount of energy gathered depends on the size of the injury."

Cloud took a breath. He tried to move. His whole body felt paralyzed. Won't listen to him. Frustration, desperation clawed at him from the inside. Sephiroth was right there, with his back turned, not watching him. If he could just…

Cloud glanced at his sword lying limp not far from him; tried to reach out to it, but only his fingers twitched helplessly.

" … What would happen if there was an injury that threatened the very life of the Planet? How much energy would be gathered? And at the center of that injury…"

Cloud stretched out his fingers again. This time, they moved a little better. His heart started to beat faster. Not much time. If he could just get that sword.

Sephiroth was right there.

" … at the center, will be me. All that boundless energy will be mine. By merging with all the energy of the Planet, I will become a new life form, a new existence. Melding with the Planet… I will cease to exist as I am now…"

Something broke inside him. He thought it might be a bone, maybe a rib. Or it could have been his mind. Heart… He struggled with his fingers. Dread (shaped like a hurricane, in the vague edges of his imagination, ripping everything apart) filled the empty space and suffocated him.

" … Only to be reborn as a God to rule over every soul."

"An injury powerful enough to destroy the Planet?" Aerith, again.

Something else broke. And this time, he knew what it was: it was the paralysis. The tip of his fingers grabbed the hilt of the sword. His fingers tightened around the hilt.

"Injure… the Planet?" It was Tifa. Everybody else was probably with Aerith too. Cloud hoped that they would drag the conversation longer. Distract him. He managed to scramble to his knees.

"That'll never happen!" Barret said angrily. Sephiroth started laughing.

Cloud finally stood up. Beads of sweat rolled down his face. Hurricane, vicious, overpowering, and he thought he saw himself (amidst the confusion, the deranged paralysis of his mind) standing in front of him, alone, with nothing but a feeble sword in hand, trying to stop the wind single-handedly. He almost cried; didn't, instead stumbled forward and swung his sword at Sephiroth's back.

It was a terribly prolonged moment.

Sephiroth turned at the last second; just long enough for Cloud to catch his expression. Surprise. Except it wasn't enough; Cloud knew it as soon as the sword started its descent from the apex of the arc. It would be too late.

He fell down with the sword and hit his knees hard on the ground. He didn't even feel the pain. His sword hadn't cut anything. There was only air now where Sephiroth had stood just seconds before. Just …

"Cloud! Where have you been?"

"Cloud, you okay, man?"

"Where did he go? Sephiroth?"

"He just… vanished."

Cloud closed his eyes, then opened them slowly again. It took a while for the cacophony to arrange itself into recognizable sounds, voices. He got up. Head was still slightly airy, but the trembling and the paralysis had gone. He could breathe again.

"I was in the back. Couldn't move… like I was paralyzed." He said. His voice came out relatively normal.

"He used a Paralysis Materia on you?" Vincent asked. He was already examining the back room. His voice bounced eerily against the walls.

"I guess… it didn't feel like it, though." Cloud said. "I've been hit with a Paralysis Materia before. This one… it was different. More powerful."

"He could've enhanced it." Cid offered. Cloud nodded. He was too tired to explain. Just remembering it made him sick all over again.

"Are you sure you're alright? You look pale." Tifa said.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

And thankfully she left it at that. Barret looked at him oddly, but didn't say anything, either. Cloud imagined how he would be looking now, pale as a ghost and drenched in cold sweat, arms slightly shaking, eyes wide –

"Sephiroth got away," Aerith said.

"We have to stop him." Cloud answered, an automatic response of which he could not remember the meaning for a while. He turned his eyes onto the painting again. "So this must be Meteor, right?"

They all looked at the mural, at the long burning trail.

"Something's going to fall down?" Nanaki said.

"I dunno what it is… but it looks like it's going to make a mess." Yuffie frowned.

"Yeah, jus' look at the next painting," Barret muttered.

"If Sephiroth's plan works," Cloud said. "Then he becomes a God, and the only thing he's interested in with this Planet is to wipe it out. Revenge, in his mind."

"What for?" Cid frowned.

"Doesn't matter. He believes we're all – traitors – and there's no reasoning with him. You saw how he was." Cloud took a breath. He saw everybody looking at each other. Yes, they saw; they understood.

"And even if his plan doesn't work, we still might get wiped out from the Meteor," Cloud continued, with a sort of grim severity that was beginning to confuse him. He wondered why his heart was still beating so fast.

"So what do we do?" Barret asked.

"Um, kill him before he calls the Meteor thingy?" Yuffie said. "Duh," she added, when the silence dragged on. Cid narrowed his eyes. He was about to say something when Vincent's dark voice cut in.

"Come here, look at this."

Everybody startled; no one had seen him come back.

"What is it?" Nanaki asked, bounding in after Vincent into the back room where Cloud had been held paralyzed. As they entered, Cloud realized that the room was actually a lot bigger than he had first thought; in his mind, it had been a dark cage creeping and closing in on him, metal spikes along the edges.

The orange torchlight Vincent carried threw flickering lights across the room. He led them to a corner, where a small altar stood. He put the torch closer to it; in the wavering light, Cloud could just make out the letters etched on the surface.

"What's it say? B…" Barret peered.

"Black Materia," Cloud read.

As if that had been some incantation – it probably was – the temple started shaking.

"What's this?" Cid yelled, balancing with his spear as the ground and the ceiling and everything began to rumble. Something cracked above them.

"Wait, it says something else…" Vincent was dusting off the surface of the altar. Another rumble. Cloud put his hand on the wall, trying to steady himself. "It says… that the Temple itself is the Black Materia." Vincent's voice managed to sound even and calm amidst the chaos.

"What?" Barret yelled.

"What do they mean?" Cloud asked. The shaking was getting worse.

"So, this whole building is the Black Materia?" Aerith asked, grabbing onto Barret's arm so as not to fall.

"This huge Temple? This is the Black Materia?" Cloud said. Vincent crouched lower as he followed the words on the altar.

"It says… it's a device. The Temple gets smaller each time you solve a puzzle. Until it is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand."

"So if we solve the puzzles, the Black Materia will get smaller and smaller and we can take it out?" Yuffie shouted over the increasing noise.

"Yes, but you can only answer the puzzles inside the Temple," Vincent answered.

"So, anyone who solves the puzzle will be crushed by the Temple," Tifa gasped. Considered this, and said, "The Ancients didn't want dangerous magic to be taken out so easily… I guess."

"So what do we do?"

There was a silence; the Temple continued shaking. Cloud's head was spinning, wildly, wondering if it was reason or cowardice that was holding his tongue and then wondering if it wasn't the same thing. "I –"

"You can use me."

Cloud turned and saw Cait Sith, balancing on the floating moogle like a circus acrobat.

"I'm just a stuffed toy cat," Cait Sith shrugged, managing to make it look cheeky. "Anyway, you have no choice, Cloud."

Cloud didn't know what to say. Everything he could say sounded false, treacherous, so he said nothing. The Temple shook violently, and everyone fell to the ground. When Cloud scrambled up again, Cait Sith was already hovering near the Black Materia.

"Well, everyone, take care of yourselves," he said. "Another Cait Sith will come along, but there's only one me! Don't forget that –"

"Wait, what?"

But Cait Sith had already pushed a button on the wall that they hadn't even seen before, and there was a splash of white light. Cloud felt himself being lifted, the world spinning; they were being transported elsewhere. In the dizzying swirl of particles and molecules and the universe floating by him, he thought he glimpsed at something small, a Voice, that had woken him up – from what?

It only took a few minutes until the Temple of the Ancients shrank down to a single orb, glittering black and sitting at the bottom of the deep hole where the Temple used to be.

"Should I go get it?" Cloud asked, looking at the others.

"We'll wait here," Tifa said.

"I'll come with you," Aerith said at the same time. Cloud shrugged, and the two of them made their way carefully down to the bottom of the pit.

He wondered why his heart was still beating so painfully; probably the adrenaline, or the particle-transportation, or –

Cloud bent down to pick up the Black Materia. It fit into his palm perfectly; no transparent glow that Materias usually generated; just endless black.

Cloud felt his vision spin again. His heartbeat… But why was he so nervous? He had the Materia right here, in his hand. He squeezed it hard to get a feel of it, to make sure it's real, and it was solid enough. And yet…

"So, as long as we have this… Sephiroth won't be able to use Meteor, right?" Cloud said, just to distract himself from the ominous sensation eating off of his heart. Aerith nodded.

"Right. And we can't use it either. You need great spiritual power to use it."

"You mean lots of Spiritual energy?"

"That's right. One person's power alone won't do it. You have to be somewhere special. Where there's plenty of the Planet's energy…" Aerith trailed off; her eyes widened. "The Promised Land."

"We can't let Sephiroth…"

Something interrupted Cloud; his own breath – harsh, ragged, torn. And the… the noise… Black and white and red…

I wonder?

"Sephiroth…"

Wake up!

Cloud saw Sephiroth standing, so close to them; hovering there, just standing, and he didn't remember when Sephiroth had come. He wasn't even sure it was Sephiroth he was seeing. Hallucination? Because his head was hurting so bad…

Where was Aerith? Where was everyone else? The world was black. It was like the Black Materia was spreading its ash and covering, suffocating the entire world with it. The sky was so dark. And it was only Cloud and Sephiroth that were standing.

"There, Cloud. Good boy," Sephiroth said, smiling. His voice was so loud, though it was barely above a whisper. It was a knife cutting through the intense black, leaving it frail and tattered, fall to nothingness. He took a step closer to Hell. Sephiroth was Hell.

And the black was becoming red. So hot. So… loud. Was it screaming? Yes, it was the day of murder. Five years he'd lost. Flames, red, red flames swallowed the ashes and he took a step closer. The Black Materia in his palm was burning.

All he could think was that he'd have to give it to Sephiroth. Quick, quickly. Before it burned his skin and melted the bones and his whole body… Just throw it down. Be done with it.

Rest In Peace…

In the flames he saw himself.

Young, maybe twelve or thirteen. Hair tied up in a messy ponytail, wide blue eyes, just blue, no green. No Mako. Young Cloud had his back half-turned to him. He could just make out the thin red slash on Young Cloud's cheek. He was talking to someone… grinning…

Oh yes, he remembered. That day it had rained. Dripping wet, that was why his hair was such a mess. There had been a fight. He couldn't remember why, probably never had known the reason, but that was why dirt was all over his shirt and pants. Torn sleeves. The right arm was bruised too.

He'd had a broken rib. It'd hurt like hell, but he didn't care. Five big guys. Older, stronger, but Cloud had won. They picked the fight but it was Cloud who had won. And… and he remembered, it was Tifa he was talking to now. Aching all over but grinning, not to show the pain. He'd been proud of himself. Tifa, too. She'd said some mean things about the five boys and they both laughed…

Young Cloud turned his head. He looked at Cloud, straight.

There was horror in his big blue eyes, also other things that Cloud didn't have a name for. He was still walking to Hell; slowly, but Sephiroth was patient. He was waiting there with a smile on his face. Cloud glanced from Young Cloud to Sephiroth. Only the three of them in the burning flames of his memory. And it looked like Sephiroth, he couldn't see the Young Cloud.

Cloud.

Young Cloud opens his mouth and speaks, and Cloud knows it's been him all along.

"It's been you."

"Come, Cloud. Give me the Black Materia."

Cloud felt his palm burn; the skin was boiling; the pain was unbearable. He'd have to give this cursed orb to Hell, quickly, before his hand fell off.

"Help me." Cloud gasps, he doesn't know where he is anymore. In the red flames with Sephiroth? In the black abyss with Young Cloud? In the Temple of the Ancients with Aerith? "I can't give it to Sephiroth… Not after… everything…"

His mind flashes back to all the faces, faces he knows. His friends, are they?

Cloud was so close to Hell. Sephiroth would only have to stretch out his arm to snatch the Materia away from his hand, release him from his burden, but he didn't. Still he waited with a little smile on his face. He waited for Cloud to give it to him. It'd only take but a few steps.

And the pain. It would end.

I wish I could help you, Young Cloud says. He looks pained. He is feeling the same pain. Cloud's pain. It is unbelievable. Every cell in his body is burning. He wonders why he doesn't die.

"I can't…" Cloud starts, but can't finish. Young Cloud is fading. His blue eyes search Cloud's.

Don't be afraid. This is not the end. Don't give up.

"I…"

The Black orb was handed to Hell.

"Well done." Sephiroth smiled.

Immediately, Cloud felt the flames disappear. The burning hot thing in his palm was gone. The redness faded first, then the black ash, then there was the sky.

White sky. Early morning. The world was so quiet. Why was the world so quiet?

And he was lying down on the ground, staring at the white sky, and there was no Black Materia in his hand. No. Aerith's hand found his.

"Cloud, are you all right?"

Cloud turned his head and looked at her. She was sitting, leaning down on him.

"I gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth," he said, barely recognizing the voice for how hoarse it was. He wondered if he had been shouting all this time, give it to him – let it be over – oh please let it be –

Aerith didn't say anything. Cloud could barely feel his heart now. It was like he was paralyzed again.

"What did I do?" Cloud wondered, turning his eyes toward the sky again. "Why?"

"Cloud, it's not your fault," she whispered.

But how could she say that?

He was like a puppet. A puppet…

His will was an illusion; there was no will. There was a script. He was,

"I'm sorry." Cloud closed his eyes, and felt something hot roll down his cheeks.

My memory… since when? If everything's a dream, don't wake me.

"Cloud, can you hear me?"

I can hear you, Cloud wanted to say, but his voice wouldn't come out; I'm sorry, he wanted to say, but he'd said it already.

"Don't worry about it, Cloud. It's not your fault."

How can it not be my fault?

"Let me handle Sephiroth. And Cloud, you take care of yourself, okay?"

The scene changed; no, they were there all along. It was only that Cloud noticed it now, like he has finally opened his eyes. He saw Aerith too. They were standing in a forest, thick canopy coloring the sunray deep green.

"What is this place?" Cloud asked.

"This forest leads to the City of the Ancients. It's called the Sleeping Forest. It's only a matter of time before Sephiroth summons Meteor. I'm going to protect –"

"Protect…?"

"Only a survivor of the Cetra, like me, can do it," she smiled again. "Then I'll be going now. I'll come back when it's all over."

"Aerith?"

She seemed to be running, and Cloud tried to follow, but couldn't even move his feet. Aerith disappeared into the white light.

Wait, don't leave me, he tried to say, but his voice was gone again.

Goodbye, Cloud.