Chapter 21

Uncovered Mysteries

εγλ August 0014

Nearly a week passed before Vincent showed himself at work. He'd messaged Reeve, saying he needed to take a little time. Nibelheim had whipped everyone's nerves raw. The commissioner was happy to oblige—no need to come up with excuses for his absence. Reeve had witnessed the argument with Cloud firsthand.

The break was well spent slaying dragons in the Mythril Mines, releasing his demons unchecked as his mind roiled. Vincent had let them loose, eager to give them free rein and grant him respite from things he could not change. His thoughts would not cease the torment, justifying his violent unleashing of the darkest corruptions of his soul. Gigas, Hellmasker, and the Galian Beast.

His burgeoning relationship with Tifa seemed over before it began—the Gigas thundered on the mountainside as it gripped a dragon by the throat, squelching its last breath mercilessly.

Lucrecia's journal called out to him like a ghost, intent on snatching him back into his purgatorial ruminating—Hellmasker tore into the lair of a sleeping drake, leaving the cave splattered with bloody pulp and mangled flesh.

Photographic evidence of his torture at the hands of Hojo was now in the hands of WRO scientists—the Galian Beast roared to life, clawing its prey with golden claws until the reptile stumbled away, wingless and bleeding to death on the rocky ground.

Between battles, his torment lessened, physical exhaustion taking precedent over the anguish. When he fully extinguished each thought to its burning end, the demons quieted, permitting him enough reprieve to ponder alternatives to his plight.

Vincent envisioned only one path forward. His cooperation with WRO scientists potentially offered renewed payment for his past inaction. Shelke, Shalua, and Cloud could benefit as much as the SOLDIERs and their families. And maybe, his own challenges—

With eager determination, Vincent returned to Edge. Tifa was ever on his mind, but he would not burden her with his troubles. Vincent knew Cloud was right. Until control of the demons was assured, he wouldn't jeopardize her. His emotions were too wrought lately, and unfortunately, worry over what could happen served as a trigger.

Vincent headed straight to the labs, curious at the progress they'd made in their review of the Nibelheim collection. Carlos was preparing the conference room for an upcoming meeting. Vincent wouldn't stay for it; he only wanted to briefly check in with Professor Rayleigh and Dr. Simon.

Reeve was waiting in Rayleigh's office along with Simon when Vincent knocked on the door. His surprise at the commissioner's presence was short-lived as the three launched into the obligatory questions about his time off—where he went for his holiday, how was the weather, does he feel plenty rested, did he meet anyone interesting. Vincent chuckled when the small talk ended. He hadn't been questioned in such an ordinary way in years.

Reeve smiled at Vincent's relaxed attitude. "I'm glad to see your little vacation has you in better spirits, my friend. Nibelheim was a nightmare."

"That's putting it lightly," Simon scoffed, and Vincent spotted a volume in his hands, one of Hojo's from the private library in the basement's office. Several reports were scattered across Rayleigh's desk, including Lucrecia's journal, which sat off to the side.

"Daniel and I are going through these reports personally, Vincent," Rayleigh said, noting the direction of his gaze. "As I discussed with you before, we understand that some of this material has private details on yourself and other survivors of Hojo's assaults. We're treating these with discretion as we would for any other victim. Names will not be used in the official archives."

"Yes," Reeve said, plucking a report from her desk and thumbing through it. "The last thing we want is to victimize you further, Cloud, or anyone else who was caught up in Hojo's evils. We see no reason to document—"

"It's fine, Reeve. Doesn't matter," Vincent interrupted. His only concern was what could be accomplished with the material and its potential for exploitation. "Have you found anything useful?"

"That we have, Mr. Valentine," Simon answered. The scientists had become accustomed to Vincent's mannerisms and didn't balk at his sudden attempt to divert the conversation. "Although we surmise some of Hojo's reports are deliberately incomplete. He either stored certain notes in a secret location or destroyed them."

"He could have memorized them, Daniel," Rayleigh said. "For all his evils, Hojo was brilliant."

"Do you have what you need to fill those gaps?" Vincent asked, worried he might have missed a hidden nook in the office.

"Time will tell," Rayleigh responded, gathering the manuscripts on her desk into a neat stack. "We've already discovered nuances in the early study that will improve our treatments now for our patients. And it was incredibly fortunate you found Dr. Crescent's research. We've already corrected some inefficiencies with the detailed journal she kept. It was a lucky find."

Rayleigh offered him a congenial smile, and he nodded at her in acknowledgment. The more intimate portions of Lucrecia's diary were of no use to the scientists. Still, Vincent was thankful Rayleigh had assured him it would be isolated from the rest. What would ultimately happen to the journal, he could not know.

"One thing has become clear, Vincent. With the gaps come medical challenges we're currently aware of; there is still a growing need to locate the other scientists who worked on the Jenova program," Reeve said. He leaned forward, grabbing Vincent's attention as he continued, "but if you'd rather bow out of that endeavor, I'm more than happy to give that assignment to Yuffie or Kunsel."

A lopsided grin formed on Vincent's mouth. "I appreciate the concern, but I can handle it," Vincent responded. Reeve was intelligent and knew Vincent well. Taking a leave of absence so abruptly proved the stress of Nibelheim, and Reeve rightly assumed continuing to delve into that subject would take a toll on Vincent. The commissioner didn't need to see the transformations to understand Vincent could have emotional challenges, same as anyone.

But the scientists who hadn't harmed him weren't an issue for his psyche. At least he wasn't asked to resurrect the mad scientist. That might result in a demon or two.

"I have a meeting planned with the Turks tomorrow. We'll find the ones you need."

"Yes, it would be nice to talk to all of them," Rayleigh said with a heavy sigh. "Between our knowledge gaps and the topics each researcher studied, we've narrowed down the volumes we'll dive into first. But we can't replace firsthand experience."

Vincent listened quietly as Rayleigh described several uncovered mysteries. Though he surmised it might take them weeks to sort through all of it, the knowledge exposed thus far proved enlightening.

Before the last year, no known SOLDIERs had been able to impregnate their partners. The research from both Nibelheim and Deepground revealed that sterilization of new recruits was policy.

"How were they sterilized, Professor?" Reeve asked, cringing as he did so.

"Vasectomies," Raleigh answered with a grim pull at her lips. "Applicants had no inkling of the procedure. It was performed when they received the protocols for enhancement, which was quite painful and required a few days recovery in the infirmary."

Their overall aching masked any questions recruits might have had over localized discomfort. They were none the wiser. Early in the program, Hojo had discovered that the SOLDIERs' mako-infused bodies could heal the surgery a startling 83% of the time. And so, the science department scheduled regular invasive physicals and booster inoculations—requiring anesthesia and an overnight stay to handle those hiccups. Again, the men were ignorant of the full scope of the medical decisions made on their behalf. The population eventually assumed the enhancement procedure caused sterilization, which the company never admitted or denied.

The company's goal of reproductive control was twofold. Preventing their elite from having families made them more loyal to ShinRa. A man without ties would make them with his paycheck and the coworkers he bonded with on the battlefield. As far as Hojo was concerned, he alone decided who would reproduce and used the Deepground as his breeding lab. Hojo convinced the former president this was necessary, which allowed the scientist to utilize every child produced by a SOLDIER. They hoped this tack would prevent future conflicts from any group of enhanced individuals revolting against them or joining their enemies. The company had even gone so far as to monitor SOLDIERs' sexual encounters and discreetly terminated any unsanctioned pregnancies that arose.

As they ended their summary, Vincent brought up another concern. "Did you review the notes Dr. Shelly recorded?"

"We haven't yet looked through the tablet, but I did remove it from her possession," Rayleigh responded, folding her hands under her chin as she canted her head. "Why do you ask? Do you think something was missed?"

"It isn't that," Vincent answered as he darted his eyes at Reeve. "Her interest seemed more than academic."

"Sybil is eager for discovery," Simon said, a hint of disdain in his tone. "But the young woman does take issue with the word 'no' and her rebellious nature can be difficult."

"Hmm, agreed. But she is resourceful. Sybil was the top of her class and the most innovative intern when our department first stood up," Rayleigh responded. "What concerned you exactly, Vincent?"

He quietly stared at the journal on Rayleigh's desk, considering his next words carefully. "Do you know her intention with the notes she collected in Nibelheim?"

"My assumption was no more than what she claimed—that she gathered it for the WRO," Rayleigh replied, shrugging as she looked at Vincent. "Sybil is an inquisitive researcher; she studies with an uncommon fervor."

"Has she revisited the jail?" Vincent asked Reeve.

"There's been no additional unauthorized access to Parran," Reeve said with a shake of his head.

"Her visit with Parran was useful, however," Simon grudgingly offered, peering at Reeve over his glasses. He frowned at the dubious look Vincent gave him before he continued, "A SOLDIER was injured in Deepground recently, bitten by an enhanced Heg snake. The injury is healing, though slower than what we would expect from one with Mako. Sybil helped me produce a serum based on information she gleaned from your prisoner."

"What did she learn from him?" Vincent queried, still unconvinced of the young woman's intentions.

"She said he mentioned his partner's research and pointed her in the right direction unintentionally," Simon admitted.

"What sort of research, Doctor?" Reeve pressed, and Simon seemed to squirm at the query.

"Corrupted Lifestream," Simon answered grimly. "Sybil pinpointed his research in the Deepground files—the newer files and was able to find the formula used to modify the snakes. She reverse-engineered it, which led us to a suitable antidote. Or at least, what would be suitable for a SOLDIER."

Vincent exchanged a glance with Reeve, who seemed to take the news with a reluctant acceptance.

"I know Sybil overstepped again, but her efforts did produce beneficial results. The SOLDIER is healing faster now," Simon said as he slowly stood to place Hojo's report on the desk. "From what I gathered from that research, it seems the scientist in question—"

"Brukho," Vincent clarified, glancing again at Reeve.

Vincent recalled the reports he'd seen months ago in the mansion library. Brukho's early research into corruptions. The man had only wanted to determine the effect corrupted Lifestream would have when injected into test subjects. See what it would do. Gast had quickly shut the experiments down.

"Yes, Brukho," Simon agreed and buttoned his smock as he continued, "I apologize, but I must head out. I'm joining a meeting today with the pharmacy staff, and I need to prepare my notes."

"Of course, thank you for your time, Daniel," Reeve said and arched his brow in surprise when Vincent rose from his chair.

"A word, Doctor?" Vincent asked, following Simon to the door.

"Oh, uh—of course, Mr. Valentine." Simon led the way to his office, which was situated next to Rayleigh's within the lab. "What can I do for you?" He asked, shutting the door behind them.

Vincent glanced around the room; the décor reminded him of any mundane general practitioner's office. Nothing unordinary or to suggest its occupant anything other than a certified Doctor of Medical Science. Simon sat on the edge of his desk as he patiently waited for Vincent to begin.

"I was wondering—will you study me?" Vincent asked before he lost his nerve. He tucked his chin into his cowl at Simon's startled expression. "I—can morph—transform into other creatures from the corrupted Lifestream infused with my cells—Hojo's work. I'm sure you've read reports—" Vincent's voice faded as he became increasingly self-conscious.

"Well—uh. I suppose—um, yes—" the doctor stammered, unable to hide his shock at the request. "Are you—I mean," Simon held a hand out to Vincent. "I should ask—is there something wrong—um, I'm sorry, Mr. Valentine—"

"Vincent."

"Yes, Vincent," Simon corrected himself. "What I mean is—has there been a recent change that concerns you? Or are you seeking general answers on your condition?"

"Yes," Vincent replied. "To both."

"I understand," Simon said before disappearing into a small storage closet and returning with a phlebotomist kit. "So, I'll just take a sample to start. Do you have time for a physical? I can ask the pharmacy to meet with me tomorrow."

Vincent nodded. Simon's face remained professionally neutral as Vincent removed his cape and gauntlet.

"Please, sit comfortably, Vincent." The doctor said as he pointed to a chair. Simon reached for the phone on his desk and dialed a short extension. "Carlos—yes, the meeting was fine. Look, would you mind phoning Amy and let her know we'll meet tomorrow, same time if she's able to arrange it? Something's come up suddenly—huh?"

Vincent seated himself and braced for his first doctor's visit in decades. He cleared his mind. If he let the brooding start, he wouldn't go through with it. And Vincent needed to do this—for a multitude of reasons, not only his own selfish ones. Tifa, Cloud, Shelke, SOLDIERs, mothers, babies—too many motivations to count. There might be—clues his blood reveals to help everyone. And maybe it could solve his own challenges in the process.

"Ok, thank you, Carlos." Simon replaced the handset into the receiver and maneuvered himself around the space. "Vincent, why don't you tell me what's been going on recently. We can start there and figure out what we need to—figure out," Simon said sheepishly as he sat on the table in front of Vincent.

"The transformations," Vincent began as Simon secured the tourniquet around his arm. "I'm having trouble controlling them lately."

"I see," Simon said, cleaning Vincent's arm with an antiseptic swab. Vincent smirked at the effort but remained silent as the doctor reached for the needle. He almost snorted as Simon carefully pierced Vincent's skin as though fearful he would burst like a balloon. "I'll need to take some notes on exactly what occurs—past experiences and what's different now."

Vincent hummed in assent, watching his blood fill vial after vial as the doctor deftly fastened and replaced each until satisfied he'd drained enough.

Once completed, Simon eased into a chair opposite and grabbed for his notepad. "A question if you don't mind answering, Vincent." Simon waited for Vincent's hasty nod before continuing, "what is it you hope to accomplish? I'm sensing it's not simply these transformations you're hoping to control."

Vincent breathed deeply before answering. "I want a life back."

Hours later, Vincent locked his office and headed out. His looming solitude felt oppressive, but he would resist the urge to visit Tifa until he could be assured things were at least back to—his normal.

Once in the main lobby, he heard a voice calling to him. "Sir! Mr. Valentine!"

Vincent waited patiently until Pete stopped in front of him. "Pete. Good to see you." He pointed at the brace on Pete's arm. "How's the injury?"

"Oh," Pete chuckled, holding up his wounded limb. "It's getting better, only on my forearm now. But the discoloration is gross, so I keep it covered."

Pete pulled the brace back so Vincent could see underneath. The man's flesh remained a sickly gray hue, and the veins darkened into a deep purple. "Doc Simon thinks it'll take another two weeks, but the last meds cooled the heat and shivers." Pete flashed a smile and shrugged his large shoulders.

"Headed out on sweep?" Vincent asked, jutting out his chin toward the other SOLDIERs who watched and waited for Pete to rejoin their group.

"Yes, sir," Pete replied as he waved to his men to continue. "Actually, that's what I hoped to speak with you about." A slight furrow dented Pete's brow.

"What's that?"

"Well, sir. We're two men light. Freddie sustained a broken leg when we cleared the old behemoth enclosure. Unfortunately, he'll be out another week. And Jerry is on a honeymoon, won't be back until next Wednesday. And I can't put pressure on the other squads right now—what with it being drill week. Plus, we're kinda in a competition." Pete's voice faded as Vincent's eyes bored into him.

"Need some help?"

"We could use some assistance. Yes, sir," Pete nodded. "We located the behemoth female, and she's viciously protective of her cub triplets." He laughed, though not with amusement. "Are you available sometime this week? Whenever is convenient, I can schedule—"

"Tonight is good. That is, if your team is prepared," Vincent immediately replied. He'd offer his services every night this week if it could offer an alternative to his lonely house and melancholy mood. "I'll fill in until you've replenished your ranks."

"Really?" Pete nearly shrieked, wide-eyed at Vincent's quick agreement.

"Shall we?" Vincent suggested with his hand held out toward Pete's waiting squad.

"Oh—umm. Yes, sir!" Pete jumped in the air with a 'whoop' and rushed to rejoin his teammates. The SOLDIER could hardly contain his excitement. Vincent chuckled at the man's enthusiasm. Personally, he felt relieved he'd found a constructive activity to keep his mind occupied.