The Warrior

Chapter 11

And here...we...go...!


Angeal paced his office, glancing at his watch every third minute. It was an hour before his meeting with Fry and already his nerves were tingling. The business from the other day that had put three SOLDIERs in the infirmary had been haunting him all morning – he was sure he didn't want to know the particulars, but it was his responsibility to find out.

It was doubtful that Fry, of all people, would have randomly instigated a fight with three other men. Therefore something else had to be at work here; something that he suspected would probably have him blowing a capillary to rival Professor Lowell's. In times like these he hated the military.

Not everyone came to serve honorably.

He didn't quite know what to think of Fry. Trying to determine right from wrong within a company that was corrupt from the inside out was impossible. The word 'duty' no longer held sway in such a place. It was like honor to thieves and liars – a damn waste.

Angeal rued the day that he had survived to be taken back here. At night, when he was alone and free to gaze longingly at the sky, he thought of his old student and friend, Zack. He envied him; his freedom, his courage to fight back, all the things that the teacher had lacked when his own judgment day had come.

The SOLDIER swore, raking both hands through his hair as he sagged into his chair. His nails dug painfully into his scalp at the chip that rested just under the skull. It was a constant reminder of all his mistakes, one that would likely haunt him forever, or kill him.

And that was where his true cowardice lay, because it should have by now – he should have given them the bird and been done with it.

A light tinkle announced the arrival of the black tuxedo cat. He stalked across the glass table with half lidded expression and the assurance of royalty. His newly acquired bell and collar had added a new degree of pride to his stature.

"Hello Soldier." Angeal reached forward with a weariness unbefitting of a man just reaching thirty.

Soldier leaned appreciatively into the proffered hand, gliding underneath it till his tail curled around the man's fingers. Then he turned and repeated the process, a soft grainy purr the only sound within the room. It reverberated off the barren walls of the man's prison with a hopefulness that he didn't feel.

For a cat with important things to be doing, Angeal was a vexing human to deal with. Soldier bestowed all the appreciation and devotion a cat could, and still the man sat around in doldrums day after day. Why, to be doted on by such a magnificent creature should've been a great honor.

Alas, those scars were too deep for even a cat to fill with purrs of rapture. He would settle for warming Angeal's lap instead.

Angeal gazed down at a loss as the cat proceeded to knead his trousers with sharp, stinging claws. He winced, hoping sincerely that the animal would make up its mind or get off. Such was the way of cats he supposed. Soldier paused half-way between lying down and standing before he finally relented, tucking his feet under him in satisfaction.

A minute later Angeal's office door slid open with the sort of irritated swish that warned him of a certain silver haired man's imminent arrival. He didn't know why this was so, as it was simply a door, not a sentient being capable of changing its tune to the whim of particular people, but he suspected it had something to do with the aura that often preceded Sephiroth wherever he went and changed according to his moods.

The dark haired man had scarcely begun lifting his head when two gloved hands landed firmly on his desk, inviting a wide eyed baleful stare from his lap companion.

"What is that doing here?" It came out like a verbal shudder. Sephiroth's eyes narrowed at the cat and the cat narrowed his back.

The mice in his office seemed fewer in number recently…

Angeal rubbed gingerly behind Soldier's ears, oblivious to the frigid confrontation passing between man and feline, "He's keeping me company – Gods know I could use some in this place."

Sephiroth straightened, his nose cautiously testing the air. He scowled, "It smells like cat litter in here."

His friend grudgingly sat forward, unseating Soldier, who jumped down and pranced away with a little flick of his tail that said all that needed to be said of his opinion on that matter.

"What is it, Sephiroth?" Angeal asked plainly, his elbows braced on his table. He seemed on the verge of putting his head down and taking a nap. "You didn't come here to harass the cat…at least I hope not."

The man looked back at him with a severity that Angeal hadn't had directed at him in years. It put him off his step, made him uncertain. He didn't move, afraid of what was to come and ready to bolt if need be. Not that he would make it – Sephiroth was far faster than him.

"Fry." The word sunk into the room like a sword point.

There was a bemused pause, "What about him?"

"He is a good SOLDIER." It was a cryptic message. Sephiroth sounded like he'd eaten bad clams – subterfuge had never really been his strong suit.

Angeal stared at his friend as if he'd lost a different part of his mind. Point A, conversations of this sort between the two of them were dangerous in these rooms; Point B, Sephiroth had scarcely shown emotional drive towards anything since his memory loss following the 'incident'.

This was all very sudden and startling, and had to be handled with great care.

But there was no time to respond before Sephiroth had forged ahead with his train of thought, "I require his assistance this afternoon in the sewers, if that is agreeable to you." He watched Angeal from the corner of his eyes, waiting.

The other leaned back slowly and gave a deliberate nod. "Of course." He said. "I'm sure it would do him good to work with you."

Sephiroth made a face at that, but said nothing.

"You don't agree?" Angeal pressed curiously.

That earned him an outright glare. Sephiroth was trying to tell him something, Angeal couldn't be sure what, but it was beginning to unnerve him. If his friend was privy to knowledge that he wasn't, and therefore concerned for the SOLDIER's safety, he could offer a small bit of assurance that, no, he would not throw the boy to the wolves without consulting Sephjroth first.

"Don't worry about it." Angeal leveled him with a knowing look.

Sephiroth nodded curtly. "2 p.m." He said and he turned to go. "I will need him by then."

His hair was an inch short of being caught in the door when it closed behind him. Angeal pursed his lips. He never had understood his friend's infatuation with the excessively long do, especially considering some of the past incidents it had precipitated.

Of course, Sephiroth would castrate him if he ever let that slip out into the public, and he just assumed keep his manhood intact.

Tifa had been secreted in her room for the better part of the morning following the workout. At this point she was afraid to come out lest some other disaster find her. There was no guarantee it wouldn't somehow find her within the sanctuary of her room, but she had to hide somewhere.

Avalanche had given her three tasks via Jesse to occupy her mind. The first was to infiltrate Hojo's office computer; that was not a happy revelation - her heart was now shriveled up somewhere on the ocean floor and not answering phone calls. Did they realize he was certifiably insane?

The second was far more docile in nature, almost like a cuddly teddy bear in comparison to the first assignment. She could tap into their communication wires, so long as she had the 'how to' list. That would be supplied by Jesse.

And she could infiltrate the database that filed out all the missions, guard duty scheduling, and so forth for Shin-Ra's military elite. Those were easy things, if only because her fear of Shin-Ra was substantially less than that of the mad scientist; it was a matter of execution vs. possible mutilation, experimentation, and agonizingly long death...

For her it was an easy decision. She was half way to the gas chamber already. Not that she was hankering to throw herself off the nearest ledge any time soon, but she liked to stay true to the realities of her situation.

She hoped it wouldn't come to the worst.

There were still three unopened messages from Murphy in her phone inbox. Tifa regarded them cautiously. She wasn't altogether certain she wanted to know, but seeing the unopened letter symbol as it flashed on the screen demanded attention.

The first message:

Ewww, there's a headless body in storage pod A on floor 75. Hojo's such a freak!

Tifa couldn't help the grimace that mingled with her bewilderment. She knew there was a good reason she hadn't taken a closer look.

The second message:

What the…? There's a big orange cat here too. These people are sooo weird.

Her brow darted upwards. Apparently 'Murphy' considered himself to be a separate entity from Shin-Ra. That was a good sign anyway. Maybe.

The third:

What happened to the funny dude with the pointy black hair anyway?! What was his name…? Zat? Zax?

…Zit?

Tifa was caught between laughing and crying. She stared at the third message for a long time not knowing quite what to do with it. Had the entity labeled 'Murphy' known him well? Would it hurt that person to discover that he was dead?

She couldn't say how, but she knew the answer was yes. She imagined that it must have hurt a lot of people.

Her response was short and to the point: Zack is dead.

And she had a meeting to get to in five minutes. Damn. No stairs for today. Tifa blew between her compressed lips, making a funny vibrating sound. She reluctantly stepped out of her room and made for the elevators at a brisk jog.

Both were in use – they always were, but it only took one minute as opposed to five for the next to show up. That left her approximately 4 minutes to get to Angeal's office. At least he wasn't as much of a stickler for being on time as Sephiroth was.

"Oh." Tifa jerked to a standstill as the devil himself materialized from behind the elevator doors. She made a sound of disbelief. "What do you do around here?" She asked with an edge of exasperation, "You're always on the elevator!"

He did that eyebrow thing that made her feel like a squirming insect and asked in his high and mighty tone. "Are you getting on or not?"

She got in. And she made sure to put enough space between them that she was fairly plastered to the wall. Her eyes kept drifting to the side to see what he was doing, which didn't appear to concern him nearly as much as it was concerning her. He acted as if she was invisible and she was 99% sure that he was doing it deliberately.

Fortunately, as it were, Sephiroth had put in the floor number for her because she only remembered it when the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened with a ding to Angeal's floor. She stood there, blankly contemplating how one person could unravel her so thoroughly, until a firm prod in the back got her moving back into reality.

Tifa whirled on him, not knowing quite what she intended to do, but certain that she should do something. His eyes were laughing at her as the doors closed on him.

She sighed, turned away, and headed to Angeal's office with a brooding look at the floor.

He was waiting for her when she arrived and locked the door once she was inside. Tifa didn't know what to think, but fear was currently running rampant in first place. Locked doors were generally a bad sign in her experience and past history definitely wasn't in her favor.

"Fry," He spoke firmly, "I won't tolerate the singling out and abuse of my SOLDIERs under any circumstances. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes sir." Her voice lost some of its depth.

Oh god… It would have to be this. She'd finally gotten that incident out of her mind and moved forward, only to have it dredged back up from the depths of unpleasant memories that she'd rather not revisit.

"Then you will please tell me what happened to place three of my SOLDIERS in the infirmary with a broken arm, a broken nose, and a concussion respectively, the day before yesterday." One hand rested loosely at his side, the fingers braced against his desk, and the other was planted on his hip.

For one hysterical moment Tifa thought he meant to blame her for incident, but on second thought she realized he couldn't be that stupid. It was his job to be impartial and hear both sides of the story before making assumptions, so she would tell him what happened.

Her gaze shifted uncomfortably away from him – not that telling him was going to be easy, "I was leaving the mess hall," she began, "I didn't even have time to turn around when I got hit. They came out of nowhere."

There was a subtle twitch of the muscle along his jaw, "Go on."

Tifa schooled her expression and concentrated on looking him in the eyes. Looking into the eyes was honest, not to mention embarrassing. "Well, they dragged me into the bathroom, which I guess is where they'd been waiting in the first place."

A change swept over the man in front of her, like a frigid north wind invading the sunny beaches of Costa Del Sol, "I see."

Her throat constricted on the next part of her story. "I was too dazed at first to defend myself, but they needed me conscious for what they…uh… what they…intended to do…"

Angeal held up his hand, "That's enough, Fry." A vein she hadn't noticed before was throbbing on his forehead and the skin of his face was pulled so taught as to appear brittle.

Tifa bit the inside of her cheek, thankful for his discretion, but upset with the memory.

He let out a long, controlled breath, his hands tense as his fingers rapped against the glass desktop, "Why did you not tell me this before?"

She leveled him with a glare that said just about everything.

"Nevermind." He dismissed the thought abruptly and met her gaze in earnest, "I will deal with this immediately. Rest assured that they will no longer wear the uniform at the end of the day."

Tifa shrugged faintly, despite the shiver that crawled up her spine whenever she thought about what had happened. She knew the depth of danger she toyed with, how close she was to being both discovered and violated. It could be even worse if they found out she was a woman, if she were caught by the wrong person.

Angeal clasped her firmly by the shoulders with a stern look, "From now on, if anyone is giving you trouble, you will tell me, am I clear?"

She nodded, unsettled by the intensity of his concern. Her mouth felt dry and her heart subdued. She didn't deserve his kindness, not when she was going behind his back. It didn't seem right.

But neither did a man like him serving in a place like this.

He released her abruptly and returned to his desk, taking a seat. "You did well on your first mission. I'm pleased." He announced.

Tifa hid a wince, "Thank you sir."

He cast a sideward glance at her from his monitor. "No sign of the resistance?"

She shook her head, controlled, even – almost believable, "No, sir. Nothing but rats."

Angeal rubbed his palms against his forehead as he leaned back in his chair, "I suppose that is to be expected." He murmured. "Chaka is due in tomorrow."

"I heard." Tifa replied. "He sent me a message."

"I was considering sending the two of you down into the sewers for a more thorough investigation." He went on to say. "But I've been informed that Sephiroth has already commandeered you for the task this afternoon."

Tifa's brow furrowed, but before she could comment on her surprise he was speaking again.

"I apologize that your integration period has been cut so dramatically short of the norm, but we are short handed these days and you are more advanced than your peers." His expression darkened profoundly.

"It's fine, Angeal." Tifa said softly and felt quite rotten.

She regarded him with some concern. The frown he so often wore didn't suit a man whose features were better made for smiling. There was a softness about Angeal that made him more susceptible to the wrong that choked this place, and for that it took the greatest toll on him.

"It's hard finding good SOLDIERs" He explained in a vague and distant voice. "The world is changing, I wonder if it is for the better…"

An ominous feeling twisted in her gut. From the shadow in his eyes she guessed it had been haunting him for a while. It was a sensation of being pulled by an unseen force towards an inevitable battle where neither side is in control, and both are the pawns of something darker and more sinister.

Tifa shook herself free, blinking away the thought almost as quickly as it had come. She cleared her throat, "Am I dismissed, sir?"

"Yes," Angeal gave a distracted wave somewhere in vicinity of the door, her cue to leave.

The entire train ride left Tifa's insides a writhing knot of anxiety. She couldn't stop thinking about the conversation with Angeal, about the way he had looked. It bothered her more than she thought it should, but then this whole place had a way of creeping a person out.

How could someone, once so renowned for his strength and sense of honor, sink to such depths of despair? What had happened? Everywhere she looked she saw signs of decay within Shin-Ra. Regardless of the power it boasted, it was barely a shadow of its former self now.

Why?

Sephiroth's blowout in Nibelheim was only one piece of what she now understood to be a much larger disaster. It hadn't started with him, it wasn't going to end with him, and she intended to find out why. For that she would have to go deeper into the archives of Shin-Ra's murky history, and she had a good idea of where to start.

Hojo; Jenova.

Tifa's mahogany eyes fixed on the seat in front of her. The world had lost its mind and her with it. Between the mad scientists, aliens, and unstable super SOLDIERs, it was a wonder the planet was still in one piece. The fragile thread that kept it together was stretching to break.

It occurred to her that she might have bitten off more than one Tifa could chew. A dry chuckle emerged from the back of her throat. Her shoulders rose and fell as she composed herself with a deep breath, waiting for the inevitable and not really sure what that entailed.

Sector five was brimming with activity and people when she got off the train. Tifa shrugged her way through the masses, avoiding the curious glances and irritable remarks that drifted her way. A SOLDIER in uniform was always a source of interest and ire, depending on who you happened across.

When the hustle and bustle of daily life had shrank in the distance behind her and the old, abandoned portion of the city loomed in front of her, voices pulled her up short. She craned her head, listening to the ongoing conversation. It was a subdued sort of happiness, muffled by the scuffle of feet on concrete and the slap of a ball as it landed in water.

Tifa approached the corner, round which the sounds emanated. As she did, the ball in question bounced into view and ricocheted off the building across the street from her. It rolled to a stop at the edge of the curb and a young boy, no older then 10, came sprinting out from behind the corner to retrieve it.

His hair was slightly matted and dirt smudged his cheeks. The clothes on his back were old and worn and he wore sandals on his grubby feet - a homeless child? She didn't know they existed above the plates.

He didn't notice her until he had the ball in hand and was turning back. That's when he froze, eyes wary. His body leaned towards the alleyway from which he'd come, an urgency to run tightening in his scrawny legs.

She flashed him what she had meant to be an encouraging smile, but the boy bolted. Confusion muddled her features and she frowned, approaching the corner with reservation. The pleasant chorus of voices that had stopped her earlier had altogether vanished. When she came around into the alley, there was a lone figure standing there waiting.

Tifa immediately felt her hackles rise, her hands balled into fists, "What did you do?"

His head cocked to one side, bangs fluttering in a breeze she couldn't feel. "I have done nothing."

"I heard children…" She continued, suspicion holding her ground.

"Yes," He nodded his head sagely, "And they have gone."

"Why?" Tifa demanded.

Sephiroth looked back at her as if the answer were obvious, "They mistrust the uniform." He explained. "It is nothing personal."

She felt like a bout of hysterical laughter was in order, but bit her tongue. Her fury was taking on a different shape. "And they don't fear you?"

A shadow cast over his face, "Should they?"

Tifa was so still she might have been a statue. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but wouldn't come out. She wanted to scream in his face, to hit him as hard as she could and keep hitting.

His expression softened a fraction, as if understanding. "You fear me."

She shook herself and feigned nonchalance by walking towards him. "No, but most people do." She muttered and started to walk by. "That's what you want, isn't it? People to fear you?"

"Not the way you do." The soft composer of this voice caught her mid-stride.

Tifa could feel the tremble as it came on, but couldn't stop it. His eyes were staring through her, as if to pin her soul to the truth. Because he clearly didn't know and his attempts at compassion just made her angry.

"I have done something to you." He surmised bluntly.

She spun around, her nostrils flared and words carefully measured, "Is this why you agreed to have me along? To interrogate me?"

There was a sharp glint to his eyes that made her flinch, "Yes."

"Why?" Tifa shot back.

"I want to know." Sephiroth replied. "You—"

"No you don't." Her voice echoed loudly between them and the walls of the small alley, like a portent of doom. The next part came out as a harsh whisper, "You really don't."

And that was that. Not another word was spoken between them until they were in the sewers, and only then as a necessity. The tension had dissipated some, though it was still acutely present for her.

"Here." Sephiroth handed her a flashlight.

Tifa regarded the thing suspiciously before asking, "Don't you need it?"

He arched an amused brow, his eyes aglow in the dark. The slit, cat-like pupils should've been eerie, but they appeared strangely sedate, almost pleasant right then.

"Oh." She frowned at the uncertain realization and turned away, shining the light into the dark. "Won't the light bother your night vision?"

"Just don't shine it in my face." Sephiroth advised.

The idea was very tempting, but she didn't. Tifa had never had the heart for malice, as much as it was warranted at times. She was not Sephiroth – she did not avenge with brutality or cruelty. It wasn't worth the effort anymore and it certainly didn't fix anything.

Tifa sighed under the burden of self-discovery. Either she had grown soft or she'd never been a hard person to begin with. She'd never really wanted to be a hard person – strong yes, capable certainly, but not harsh.

They passed the time in something close to companionable silence, only because Sephiroth had taken it upon himself to lead. She felt better having him in front of her where she could see him. And he pretty much decimated anything that crossed their path so she never had to get her hands dirty. Her gloves had not been the same since their dunk in sewage several days ago anyway.

From what little she could tell of their current destination, they had been delving deeper and deeper into the sewers. So deep, in fact, that Tifa was surprised there were still stairs and passages to be followed. Her curiosity was bordering on antsy by the time she'd mustered the courage to speak, "You're not looking for the resistance, are you."

It was a guess actually, but she was fairly certain of it.

Sephiroth stopped with his back still facing her. "No." He confirmed.

"Then what are we down here for?" She asked.

"Something of personal interest to me..." He murmured carefully.

Tifa gazed blankly at the back of his head, marveling at his luxurious main of hair in afterthought. "You're not going to tell me what that is?"

Sephiroth glanced to the side with a bored expression. "Only if it becomes necessary."

She huffed angrily, "Then what am I here for?"

His shoulder guards gave a little shrug as he resumed walking, "I don't know – it was your idea to come, not mine."

Tifa felt her patience beginning to thin. "I wanted to know what you're doing down here and you agreed to let me come with you. Why did you bother if you're not even going to tell me what we're doing?"

A weary exhalation emanated from the man in front of her. He stopped again his head leaning back, as if to discern answers from the sky that was somewhere above the layers of stone, invisible and untouchable. "I seem to recall there being attempted blackmail involved." He drawled, before adding with reluctance, "But as it were, I require your help."

She did't stop to wonder at what he meant by 'attempted'. "What makes you think I'm going to help you? You won't even tell me what's going on."

Sephiroth turned his acutely glowing eyes on her with an intensity that caught her breath. "Do you trust me?"

Tifa's mouth parted defensively, but no words came out. She looked away. It was a valid point, she allowed quietly, and felt a stab of guilt for it.

"I am quite sure that the answers you seek may be found where we are going." He told her. "You can draw your own conclusions from what you find there, and in return, you will have helped me."

"How?" She pressed.

His lips framed the ghost of a smile, "A taste of freedom," and he whirled around in a flurry of silver and black.

Tifa didn't know what to say to that, but she was intrigued enough by what he offered to keep going. There was no guarantee he would find what he was looking for anyway.

When they came around the next bend in the sewer, their surroundings took on a much different shape. It was no longer a sewer at all, but a gnarly tunnel rank with the smell of damp age. Algae and slime coated the walls and patches of vibrant green the color of Sephiroth's eyes pooled in hollows along the floor.

It was shorn completely of hard rock, dark and uninviting. The temperature dropped noticeably in the short transition from the sewers to this unfamiliar section of underground. Tifa found herself rubbing her arms as they delved deeper; the chill reached her bones in a way that no mere cold could.

She was so absorbed in the disquieting aura of the place that she didn't notice Sephiroth pull up short. The next thing she knew, a gloved had was pressed firmly against her abdomen, pushing her back. Her skin prickled at the familiar sound of grinding metal as a sword was drawn.

"Stand back." He ordered.

Tifa looked passed him as he strode forward, affording her a good glance at the source of his caution. The air sucked into her lungs with a surprised gasp and she made to follow him.

"I said stay back." The command elicited a startled jump, but it had done what it was intended to do. Tifa remained fixed in place, confused but compliant.

Whatever that thing was, though it bore some resemblance to being human, it wasn't anymore. It had transformed into something indiscernible to her eyes, monstrous and pulsating with rage. The creature swiveled its head and pale white eyes at the man who stood opposite of it.

Tifa was surprised when it didn't immediately charge. It stood up straight, its hunched posture giving way to something more shrewd and cunning. The creature's hair was very human like, but for its color – vibrant blue and wild. Its skin was steel gray and scarred with patches of sickly green and yellow, as if it were given to a terrible infection.

"I've seen these before." She found herself speaking with a tremble of horror. In the Nibelheim reactor, where remnants of science gone wrong and twisted had been contained, were others like this one. They had been human once she was sure, but barely recognizable now. And somehow, that place had drove Sephiroth into madness.

The man in question held his ground now, his back ramrod straight, sword held level with his eyes as he stared down the creature. "So have I."

His words turned to ice in her veins. In the next instant the creature had spurred into motion, a shot of lightening.

They came together in a flurry of animalistic growls and a very human snarl of vengeance. The sound left her even colder as the creature slumped to the ground, its blood as red as the next man's as it pooled on the ground. Sephiroth jerked the sword free, staring down at the creature with a vague sense of panic in his eyes.

Tifa started forward without thinking, her hands jerking the helm she wore off her head as she put herself between the man and the dead thing at his feet. "He's not you." She emphasized urgently and forced him to meet her eyes instead. "Forget it."

For one split second he seemed to not know her at all, or not as she was now. She was someone else entirely, someone eerily familiar again. They stood like that for a long time without moving, though his expression had long since lost its surreal quality.

It was only when he glanced down expectantly that Tifa realized her hands were wrapped in the collar of his coat. She released him abruptly and stepped back, blushing despite herself. "Sorry." She murmured and stooped to pick up her helm.

His hand stopped her, a light brush against her shoulder, but enough to bring her up short with a questioning glance. He bent down wordlessly, retrieving her helm, and handed it back to her. Then he turned away and proceeded into the cavernous passage, never once looking back.

Tifa, already somewhat shaken from the incident, couldn't help the foreboding sense that where they were going held only misfortune and pain. When they came to a dead end, or what appeared to be one, the feeling got worse. There was a high ledge above them – very high, illuminated by pale white light, and the wall was sheer, smooth and unclimbable, as if to keep anything that left this way from coming back in.

"Dead end." The sound was hollow to her ears as she spoke. She stared up at the ledge, an inexplicable dread growing inside her.

Sephiroth swept her up so fast she was still dizzy from the shock when he set her down again onto the very ledge that she'd been staring up at moments ago. Her head spun with the lingering effects of having literally been carried in flight through the air and the distinct memory of her body held tightly against his for that brief instant. It left her so shaken that she might have collapsed had he not reached out a hand to steady her.

"My apologies." He said with such a strain at impassivity that it was a wonder he could keep a level tongue. "It is not always the most comfortable sensation the first time."

Tifa glanced down at the ground below with a constricted breath, then back at him. She got the feeling that he was avoiding something by the way he was stiffly keeping his distance from her. "You could have asked." She suggested.

Sephiroth ignored her and started to walk forward when something strange happened. He stopped, one hand jerking to his head as if in pain, the other held out rigidly from his side, his fingers curled taught. A strangled gasp emerged from the back of his throat and he staggered back a step.

Confused and alarmed, Tifa came up beside him, reaching out to him instinctively. At first he didn't seem to notice her at all. His expression was a tight grimace of pain as he stood there, half way between collapse and retaking the lost ground.

Sephiroth bared his clenched teeth for one last attempt before sinking to his knees with a shaky sigh. "I can go no further." He strained and sat back on his heels, eyes trained ahead.

For the first time Tifa noticed the door. It was large, like a garage door set into a flat, light blue tinted wall. It had the appearance of a military station, all high tech and flashy with bands of laser lights wrapping midway all across and serial numbers on the door.

"Is that it?" Her attention strayed to the ceiling corners of the pristine wall. There would likely be surveillance of some kind here, right? Or would there? If this is where they dumped their unwanted experiments, maybe they didn't want to see much.

…Or thought it wasn't necessary.

"Yes." The words came out ragged and deep, as if it were hard for him to speak.

Worry bullied its way around Tifa's reservations as she knelt down beside him. His hair obscured his face from her and she contemplated moving it aside, but thought better of it. "Are you alright?" She asked and the sentiment was honest.

Sephiroth released a breath and straightened again, "I will be fine." He answered and chanced a glance her way with a flicker of interest.

Tifa looked back at him with her no-nonsense face, forehead scrunched with a degree of concern on his behalf that surprised them both. "What's wrong?" It was not voiced as to leave option for debate.

He seemed to recognize that too, for he made no attempt to avoid the question. His gloved hand rose to tap lightly at his skull. "There are boundaries beyond which I cannot pass." He said cryptically. "If you wish to know why, you will have to go in there." His hand moved to indicate the door ahead of them. "But it is for you to decide."

Tifa lifted her head slowly, reluctant to face that possibility. Her face was ashen as she regarded the place, within which there was no telling what or who she would find. There was no doubt in her mind that if they caught her, she would not likely leave the place but as something unrecognizable.

She swallowed hard, "I don't know…" She began to say when his voice cut in abruptly.

"Then don't go."

She caught his gaze questioningly, but his thoughts were concealed from her. Did he not believe her capable? Was he coddling her? Tifa felt her resolve harden at the thought and she abruptly stood facing the door.

Below her, Sephiroth's eyes betrayed a glint of approval, but she wasn't looking at him. She was bracing herself for what she was about to do, and started walking. All the while he watched her, and as she scaled the wall and successfully broke through the vent cover before disappearing inside, he felt the first stirring of discomfort.

It was a moment before he realized that the unfamiliar sensation was concern for her safety. She was far braver than he, to embark on such a dangerous endeavor with as little experience under her belt as she had, and no idea of what might await her. Either that or she had a death wish, but he thought that unlikely.

That girl was a fire just waiting to be kindled; quiet, but fierce, and for reasons he did not understand, he wanted to see it when it happened.

Author's Notes: A timely update! And another mammoth of a chapter too - I can scarcely believe it myself. Maybe I'll have another one out before I have to leave a week and a half from now – I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try. Writing has been coming easy lately so I want to get as much done as I can during this rare burst of inspiration.

I'm sure this chapter has probably generated more questions than it has answers, but the next one will clear a few things up. The plot will also get increasingly more complicated because this story is seriously loaded with every reference and nod to the compilation that I could logically include (any guesses as to where I'm going now?).

Hopefully you all enjoyed it! Thanks to everyone for getting me excited all over again for this story – I really can't thank you enough for the feedback and encouragement. Keep it coming!

Faerlyte