Chapter Eighty-Six: Conclusion

Sephiroth's Masamune was bared, his knuckles white as he clenched the hilt. In his other hand, he held a materia so dark that the purple seemed black. The materia shimmered darkly, as if sensing its master's intent.

He strode onward past the Shinra guards, not attempting to fight back other than sweeping them aside when they got in his way. He didn't particularly care if they died or not. His quarrel was not with them.

The guards missed neither the absence of the glow of insanity in the ex-Soldier's eyes nor how they had lost the luster that indicated a strong, driven bloodlust. His emerald eyes always looked forward, but a mist clouded them, and they might have been the unseeing eyes of a dead man.

One lucky guard managed to hit Sephiroth with his shattered sword, drawing blood that ran freely down the General's arm. Sephiroth did not flinch, and did not seek revenge, only continued his steady advance forward.

The command came from Rufus for the guards to stand down, to let him advance. Puzzled, but bound by oath to obey, they sheathed their weapons and stepped aside.

Sephiroth stopped at the large, bolted door. With his back still turned to the guards, he spoke in a lifeless, toneless voice.

"Tell Rufus not to come after me."

One slash of the Masamune and the thick iron door fell aside, and Sephiroth disappeared into the cloudy darkness of Jenova's cell.

No one dared to speak to Vincent when he entered the Seventh Heaven for the first time in weeks. His ruby eyes were flaming, and his face spoke of fury. He walked with purpose, not glancing at any of Avalanche.

But someone had to ask him what was on all of their minds. Yuffie, convinced by the blunt end of Cid's spear jabbing into her thigh, finally squeaked it out.

"Where's Aralyn?"

Vincent stopped, his eyebrows furrowing. "Dead," he said quietly, still managing to sound harsh and accusing.

Every member of Avalanche took this with varying degrees of sympathy. Barret only nodded briskly, seeming undisturbed, while Tifa hung her head, her expression unreadable. Marlene began to cry.

Cloud's eyes had only darkened. "Then where is Sephiroth?"

Vincent hesitated. "I have not seen him in weeks. For the first few days, there were feathers on the water, so I assumed he had visited her grave, but now…nothing. He's disappeared."

Cid nodded, seemingly in approval. "Let him taste what he's put so many others through…assuming he even cared for the wench at all."

Tifa looked out the window. "He did care," she whispered to herself. "In the end, he remembered his love. He must be devastated…"

Sephiroth's demeanor was entirely different from the last time he had been in this chamber. Though he was every bit as calm and determined as he had been the last time, this time his objective, clearly made present in his eyes, was not to rescue.

It was to kill.

Cloud felt the difference immediately. It was as if something had died within him, leaving a void, a hunger. Vincent looked at him, nodding. "You felt it too?"

"What was that?" Cloud exclaimed, confused.

"You will recover," Vincent assured him. "And if you are so affected, imagine what Sephiroth must be going through right now."

"Jenova…" Cloud's eyes widened in understanding. "He killed her?"

Again, Vincent nodded.

"Why?" Cloud persisted. "She was his mother."

"She was not!" Vincent insisted. Cloud realized instantly that what he'd said had been seen as an insult to Lucrecia. Avalanche wisely let silence mend the hurt.

Vincent shook his head. "Why would he not?" he said in answer to Cloud's question. He retreated upstairs.

Tifa again pondered the events that had occurred under the shade of the glittering white trees, feeling the somber remnants of the horror at the still vivid images in her mind.

"Maybe," Tifa said slowly, "maybe we misunderstood…"

The room was only illuminated by a thin strip of light around the perimeter of the room and the eerie, otherworldly glow of the mako tanks. Sweet, consuming silence would have been preferred to the gentle hum of voices beyond the eastern wall. In the corner, huddled close, laid two silver-haired children.

Aidan tried to concentrate on the gentle breathing of his sister instead of the voices, knowing that they were only planning what to do to them next.

Nadiya and Aidan were curled up against each other, trying to share body heat, as they were given no blanket. One of Nadiya's soft wings was draped around her brother, but it was too small to protect his entire body, especially as his form, clothed only with a thin hospital gown, was pressed against the cold, tile floor.

Nadiya, who was painfully thinner, quivered constantly. Aidan's tiny arms could not shield her from the draft.

Aidan tried to sleep; he knew that he would need his strength for whatever it was that Hojo was planning, but he couldn't. In the darkness, he prayed that he would be the chosen victim. The last experiment had driven Nadiya into a coma, and she had only been allowed to return to him now.

He wouldn't let that happen again.

Nadiya stirred, opening her deep green eyes and peering at her brother. He wondered if she had been awoken by a nightmare, as she was painfully tense, and in her eyes were still traces of very real fear.

It didn't matter that Nadiya couldn't speak; they understood each other because their plea was identical.

"We've got to get out of here…"

To be continued in Everglow

A/N: Like it? Hate it? Either way, let me know in the reviews.

Everglow is posted in its entirety, with the revised version to be posted very soon. Everglow got a much bigger facelift than Broken Wings - it had plotholes the size of craters, and I hope to include much more Cloud and friends. But if you want to rush off to read the first version - you can do that too. :) In general, people liked it a lot more than this one.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

-Flutist Girl