.
Chapter XIX – Sins Of Us All
.
"Soo, say we come back in sixteen minutes instead o' fifteen. Would Barret send everyone af'er us on red alert?"
The robot received no answer.
So he continued, "Ooo, oor what if we come back too early! Think he'd tell us we didnae do enough and tae go back?"
"Cait Sith," Vincent finally addressed the puppet in a husky rumble. "I suggest silence be exercised."
Perched on the gunslinger's shoulder, the cat curled his tail closer to the man's back as Vincent descended the metal steps that lead into the cargo hold of the J.S. (Junon's Ship) Blue Narciss. The duo followed the path of two heavily suspected Shinra soldiers, both of which had disappeared along with their shared crate of unknown goods. Quickly turning the corner once reaching the bottom, Vincent bent his knees slightly to lower his height and conceal himself behind the nearest available piece of cover. From there he took the opportunity to scan the area while Cait Sith turned to peer behind him.
Beams of morning sun broke through in little squares from metal grates set above, illuminating sections of the hold with slivers of pink tinted light. Rows and rows of red painted boxes stood like lines of soldiers; steely and unmoving.
"Freight containers..." Vincent muttered to himself.
"Aye," Cait Sith whispered back, "Nothin' too unusual foor a cargo ship."
"Perhaps for one who does not pause to consider their number or content." The crowned cat leaned forward on Vincent's shoulder.
"Whitddya mean?" Vincent straightened slightly, peering over the top of the worn stacks of cardboard boxes he was using as cover before lowering himself behind them once again.
"Consider how fast this ship is moving, Cait Sith."
"Well, cap'n said we'd be at Costa del Sol pretty quick cause o' tha good tide. Whit's tha' got ta doo wit' anything? Ship's canny fast, so what?" Vincent glanced at the cat before returning his attention to the main hold.
"One might say too fast for the amount of cargo it's carrying." Cait Sith's whiskers twitched on hearing this.
"... Ye saying that the cargo is too light?"
"If there's cargo at all." Cait Sith fell silent as he surveyed the numerous rows of metal boxes. Now that Vincent mentioned it, the small robot was able to understand the gunslinger's suspicions. The containers looked heavy and fortified, and gave the impression that they were carrying a manifold of valuable goods. Yet the speed in which the ship travelled made them seem as if they were as light as air. The more the cat thought about it, the more he thought that maybe that was actually the case. One thing was certain, however.
Not everything was as it seemed.
A set of two voices suddenly echoed through the hold and Cait Sith instinctively curled more securely to Vincent's shoulder, his little white gloved hands grasping the folds of the man's cape. Vincent did not hesitate; immediately breaking from cover he weaved through the teeming mass of freight containers with nimble footwork. The voices became louder as a result and eventually discernible to Cait Sith's ears.
"Just throw it down there with the rest of them."
"Yeah, why don't YOU throw it down there with the rest of them. Dumbass." Vincent pressed himself against rusted metal of the nearest container just as Cait Sith leaned forward slightly with perked ears.
"Who the hell are you calling dumbass?! Dumbass!" Light shifted from above as the boat was boosted over a strong wave, setting pink beams to quickly encroach upon the surrounding shadows. Vincent was prompt to step back further into the remaining darkness, but he and Cait Sith both did not miss the two sets of red lenses that gleamed from the far corner of the room.
"You, you dumbass! You realise what's in here, don't ya?! 'Throw it down there.' Yeah, great idea, if you want us both getting exposed!" A curse rang out with an accompanied clang as the soldier in question almost dropped the crate he was carrying.
"Crap, I almost forgot about that! Too used to working with junk." The other man's helmet gleamed as it shook from side to side. They both handled the crate with evidently greater care than before and set down their goods gently before beginning to open the fastenings on one of the freight container's loading doors. With both their backs turned, Vincent silently stepped out of the penumbra and began his approach towards the two troops. He quickly darted between each row of containers, a man possessing footsteps of a ghost; a shadow weaving between darkness and light.
"Well, coloour me impressed," Cait Sith whispered low. "Yer really good at this, ye bin' practising or somethin'?" The gunslinger stopped two rows from the soldiers and resisted the urge to twist his head away from the cat's whiskers tickling his ear. He pressed his shoulder against another container and quickly surveyed the hold from his new vantage.
The sun was rising fast given the pink squares of light were now turning a pale shade of yellow. Their thin beams flickered over the two soldiers as they heaved open the doors of their chosen freight container, however due to Vincent's southwest position, his sight to its contents was obscured. A considerably large gap divided the cargo hold, its path splitting the shipping containers down the middle in some semblance of a walkway. Vincent stood on the left-hand side of the divide, and quickly deduced that crossing to the right would be a better option. He glanced towards the two soldiers to find they had disappeared inside the now open container, no doubt to set down their load. He did not have time to run across; he had one chance.
And he would have to be quick.
"Hold on."
Cait Sith didn't have time to respond when Vincent suddenly dived towards the floor. Curling to the side, he used his momentum to roll across his broad shoulders and over the metal surface on his upper back. Cait Sith bit down a yelp as he fell to Vincent's chest and scrambled to gain a tight hold of the leather straps adorning the front of the man's cloak. The gunslinger's cape followed the arc of his legs in a whorl of crimson, and in a heartbeat he had his sabaton boots planted firmly on the opposite side of the walkway as he fell into a crouch behind a container on the other side. A split second after his dive roll the two Shinra soldiers re-emerged.
"Ye could'a warned me-!" Cait Sith huffed with pique as he clambered up the gunslinger's cloak and hoisted himself back onto the man's shoulder.
"Shit-! John! Did you hear that?!"
Cait Sith clapped a hand over his muzzle.
"Not this again... you sure you're not scared of the dark? Again with the noises..."
"No, seriously! I heard somethin'!" Vincent slowly rose to his full height and resisted giving the small puppet now perched on his left shoulder a most admonishing glare.
"Yeah. Sure." An uneasy pause.
"Oh, FINE. Come on, we'll have a look. You're such a coward, David." Footsteps began to enclose on Vincent and Cait Sith, almost suffocating in their unspoken threat to their discovery. "So tell me, how exactly did you get this job again?"
As the two Shinra troops began to converse, Vincent swiftly moved to the container's side and held himself completely still, as if he had turned to stone. Seconds passed in agony for Cait Sith, his body wound with tension as his fur rose higher with each footstep that fell closer and closer. Just as the troops reached the pinnacle of their approach, Vincent suddenly sprang from cover and darted across the narrow gap to the container just next. Cait Sith's breath caught in his throat as he snatched a glimpse of both soldiers' backs. When Vincent and his cape settled once again behind cover, the cat breathed a gusty sigh of relief.
The two men had now turned the corner to inspect the steel box the duo had only moments before been hiding behind, and Cait Sith was secretly impressed with Vincent's expert timing; a moment too soon and the soldiers would have spotted them as they passed by. The puppet was about to comment but Vincent wasted no time. Checking down the narrow passage between each box, the gunslinger began to weave through the maze of containers with careful lithe while keeping an ear trained on the pair of soldiers. Though still discernible, the voices of the infantrymen began to wane as the crimson-caped man crept closer to their previous position; the farmost corner of the hold, and towards the freight container they had left open when they had begun their patrol.
A quick tap on his shoulder halted him in his tracks. Promptly pressing his back to the nearest steel receptacle, Vincent turned his blood red eyes to Cait Sith.
"Vinnie, look thair." At the puppet's whisper, he followed the cat's gloved finger to a line of containers that stood one row away to the right. Though they looked the same as all the others in the hold, what was so curious about these however was that their doors hung open for all to see.
"Empty. Just like ye said." Cait Sith stood and crossed his arms, his tail flicking back and forth at Vincent's back. The man remained silent. Guilt struck the little robot and he looked down in an attempt to meet Vincent's eyes. "I'm sorry tae 'ave almost shoouted back there. Ah plain fergot!"
Vincent slowly walked up to the open boxes, (secretly mindful of Cait Sith's balance,) and began to inspect the inside of each. Once satisfied that they were indeed empty, he eventually replied in a low rumble, "It is of no concern."
Despite the man's words, Cait Sith didn't look entirely convinced. His whiskers twitched back and forth as he wrinkled his little black nose. Finally, he scratched the back of his neck and dropped into a seated position on Vincent's shoulder. What the cat didn't know was that Vincent was now secretly grateful for Cait Sith's mistake. After all, it had given them an ample opportunity to distract the two troops and inspect their cargo. On that note, the gunslinger made to move once more towards the abandoned container in the far corner, but paused on second thought.
"And Cait Sith." The cat looked back to him in question. "... I did warn you."
Before the puppet could utter a single protest, Vincent broke out into long strides towards the corner of the hold, his cape billowing behind him. Yellow squares of light spilled from the grates above and shone over the two as they moved, casting a glitter over Cait Sith's crown while Vincent's claw shimmered a molten gold. The robotic cat carefully turned around to keep an eye out for the two soldiers, their engaged conversation still echoing from behind. Reaching the side of the Shinra troops' container, Vincent embraced the shadows once more by pressing his back against the aged metal. It was here that he noticed a series of letters etched into the side of the steel. Deep and crude in appearance, the grooves were matched by an insignia of a meteor, exactly like the one they had spotted previously on the soldier's armour.
"SIN..." Vincent read out low. "An acronym, perhaps?" Cait Sith turned around in response and near jumped at the sight.
"Well, whatever it is, it's givin' me tha' creeps! Come on, let's find oot what's in here so we can git oot all the quicker!" Vincent tucked his chin further into his cowl in agreement. Leaning around cover, he checked down the open walkway to ensure it was clear before finally ducking inside.
His steps faltered.
Vincent suddenly felt sick.
"Sure is dark in 'ere!" Cait Sith whispered as he clambered down the front of the gunman's cloak and dropped gracefully to the floor. Hopping to the back of the container, the little booted cat began to carefully inspect the five fortified crates that were stacked carefully against the far wall. He sprang on top of the closest one and began to pull at the lid with his little white gloved hands. He pulled and pulled, but the lid wouldn't budge. Annoyance rising, his tail swept back and forth before he gave up and stomped on the crate with a pointed boot. He turned to Vincent, only to find that the man hadn't moved a step from the entrance."Whit you waitin' fer, Vinnie? Hurry up an' help 'fore they come back!"
Vincent closed his eyes and took a steadying breath through his nose before he made his way towards the crowned cat. Nausea accompanied every step, and when he reached the crate in question the man felt physically sick. Cait Sith jumped down from the box and watched carefully as Vincent crouched down and reached towards the lid, the puppet secretly unnerved by the way Vincent's eyes glowed a piercing red in the darkness. Gripping both sides in hand and claw, the gunman began to pull. After a few seconds, Cait Sith was about to voice the futility of their efforts when in a display of surprising strength, Vincent wrenched the lid off the container, finally revealing the ship's true consignment in a wash of green light.
Mako.
Jars upon glass jars of the green liquid stared innocently up at them from the opened crate.
"Well noo, I dinnae remember ye bein' soo strong!" Cait Sith tilted his head at the gunslinger in thought. "Guess I must'a loosened it fer ya!" He flexed his little arms before gripping the side of the crate with both hands and raising himself up on his toes to peer inside. "But this ain't good. Ain't good at all..."
Vincent's heart suddenly beat painfully in his chest.
Dropping to his knees with a start, he hunched over slightly as his claw twitched with rapid jerks. Cait Sith jumped back in fright, almost stumbling over his own feet. "H-hey, ye alright thair?" Vincent did not reply. The small robot looked frantically about in panic as Vincent's breathing turned ragged. Immediately suspicious of the cargo, Cait Sith looked between the glowing crate and the gunman before he quickly hopped up and, with every ounce his strength, heaved the lid back over the box of Mako. Vincent suddenly gasped for air and swiftly drew back from the crate.
'What is... happening... ?!'
"Phew! Jeez, ye alright?! I dinnae think this thing could be booby trapped!" Cait Sith quickly moved to Vincent's side as he shakily rose to his feet. He glanced at his claw before drawing it within the confines of his cloak. "... Ye mind sayin' something? Yer startin' tae worry me." Vincent peered down at the small cat from over his cowl before spinning on his heel, his cape following in a twist of tattered crimson.
"... Let's go." He hurriedly made for the exit of the container, the feeling of nausea fading with welcome relief after each step.
"Not quite whit I had in mind, but ah'll take it!" Cait Sith quickly followed at his golden plated heels. Just as the gunman was about to step back out into the hold, two voices began to draw close.
"See, nothing there. Sure you're just imagining things again, David."
"Yeah, yeah... I know what I heard. I'm tellin' ya, John, I'd bet my next wage that it was somethin'!"
Vincent quickly ducked out of the container and pressed himself against the side of the metal, crouching just under the steel box's engravings that he had examined only minutes before. A sudden clawing at his back made Vincent snap his head, only to find Cait Sith clambering up his cape by using the folds in the fabric as footholds. Reaching the top, the small cat hoisted himself up and curled himself securely to the gunman's right shoulder. The odd duo abided in the shadows, still and attentive to the two Shinra troops weaving through the maze of containers as they returned from their patrol.
Reproachful, scarlet eyes suddenly bore into Vincent's skull, bringing a heavy chill accompanied by a chorus of groans that spoke only of agony and death. Words were severed and dragged out like corpses, leaving a chilling trail of ice across his braincase. Anger boiled under words spoken from stitched lips.
'Ce-aase this hii-diing. To hi-ide is to de-nyy trut-th. The guill-tyy shh-ould fa-acce their misss-takes. For I a-am ONE OF MAA-NY-!'
Rage suddenly coursed through his veins and Vincent's claw was thrust up by something beyond his will. Wicked talons flexed before they lashed out towards the rusted container at his side, digging into the fortified alloy.
SKKREEEEEEEEE!
Metal screamed as golden talons were dragged down through the steel with ease, ripping open the heavy container with terrifying strength.
"Vince! What on Gaia are ye doin'?!" Cait Sith's panicked hiss was lost amongst the screech of rended metal, and another sound that was just as hair-raising.
The unmistakable high-pitched whine of lazer sights being activated.
The surge of requiting rage finally released its grip on Vincent, and the man staggered back while Death Gigas dragged his hulking mass away to reside once more within the gunslinger's psyche. Vincent only barely managed to retreat to the rear of the container before two red dots homed in on what was his and Cait Sith's previous position. He immediately recognised the snap of rifles being loaded with fresh magazines, and he fought to regain his bearings as an audible, echoing click told him that the Shinra troops had cocked their guns.
And that he was running out of time.
"Cait Sith, go. Now." He turned his sharp gaze to the stunned passenger on his shoulder. It took a moment for the cat to find his tongue.
"I ain't leavin' ye doon here!"
"And condemn us both to capture?" Cait Sith's tail gave anxious flicks as a rush of footsteps drew close, their urgent whispers almost drown out by the sound. "Report to Barret, tell him of our findings."
"And whit aboot you?!" The glow of the soldiers' helmets quickly became visible around the corner, the three centre lenses that were once dim now lit up a threatening red. Lazer sights darted with frenzy down the passage towards them.
"There is no time. Now," without warning, Vincent snatched the back of Cait Sith's cape in his leather gloved hand and tossed him up into the air, "go!" The little puppet flailed in panic and surprise before he managed to catch one of the top edges of a nearby container. Frantically pulling himself up, he stood on top of the steel receptacle in a mixture of confusion and fright. Not only at Vincent's alarming behaviour, but from the rarely heard urgency in the man's voice.
Stray beams of light suddenly grasped his attention.
Looking up, Cait Sith watched the shifting rays that spilled down through little square gaps of the latticed grate above him. A stack of crates and containers lay not too far away, and the puppet immediately saw them as a means to climb up to the grate and escape. He also realised that it was no doubt Vincent's reason for throwing him up there in the first place.
"W-who's there?!" The soldier's frightened call brought the cat back to the situation at hand and he crept low to look over the container's edge. The two Shinra troops had their rifles drawn and were cautiously moving down the passage towards the container Vincent had torn in to. Vincent himself had moved one row behind, right next to the steel box that Cait Sith had been thrown to and was currently hiding upon. Even in darkness, and from the height he was situated, the small robot could easily see that the gunslinger was struggling. Vincent's movements were taut and the man appeared a shade paler, even more so than usual.
'Whit is wrong wit' ya, Vinnie?! I've never seen ye like this!' Cait Sith's thoughts turned to the gunman's reaction when they had opened the crates full of Mako, and fear bubbled in his chest that maybe the crates had indeed been rigged with something. It was the only connection the puppet could make as to Vincent's bizarre, and almost scary, behaviour. The cat watched helplessly as the two troops began to close in while Vincent had stopped moving completely. If Cait Sith didn't know any better, he would have thought that the man had given up.
'I cannae watch this anymoore!' Pure emotion swelled in the cat's breast and Cait Sith stood up with determination, decision made.
He would not leave his friend behind.
Reaching behind his little cape, Cait Sith hopped down from the metal receptacle and landed neatly on Vincent's shoulder. The gunslinger snapped his head to the cat in surprise just as Cait Sith pulled back his hand and began to shake his balled fist. The very moment the first troop made to turn the corner, Cait Sith threw his Dice towards the soldier's feet.
"Whoa-aaaa!" The Shinra troop completely lost his balance as he stumbled on the small cubes and floundered backwards, crumpling to the floor in a clumsy mess. Then, as if a spell had been broken, Vincent finally moved once more. Swiftly leaping on top of the container Cait Sith had fallen from, the crimson caped man crouched low and out of sight. However, while unable to see the soldiers, (and vice versa,) the odd duo were still within earshot.
"Shit! Lost it. Whatever the hell that was..." Hurried footsteps soon joined the annoyed and rather rattled voice.
"John! You alright, man?"
"Sure. What do you think, dumbass?! Keep your rifle close and yer eyes peeled. I have a feeling that whatever it is, it's still around... Ow! Seriously, what is this?" A soft rattle echoed as the soldier grasped what he had landed on, before a strange and awkward silence followed. Finally he cried out, "Dice?! You've been playin' Liar's Dice with the others in here again, haven't you, David?!" As the two Shinra soldiers began to bicker, Vincent made his way to the stack of crates and containers he had thrown Cait Sith towards earlier, all the while remaining crouched to avoid being seen. He slowly began to scale the mountain of boxes to reach the grate, and subsequently, escape to the upper deck. Cait Sith watched him with concern; he had never seen Vincent appear this fatigued. The two voices below took on a sudden, frenzied pitch and Cait Sith looked down in alarm with perked ears.
"Holy mother of-! What the hell is down here?! Look at these claw marks!" Metallic clacking echoed throughout the hold as the soldiers' rifles were re-adjusted and no doubt gripped tighter.
"My god... quick, go up top and call for back-up! Only a monster could tear through something like this..."
Vincent paused half-climb and glanced down into the hold below. A moment passed before he continued his ascent.
Silence reigned. Unspoken words filled the air between Vincent and Cait Sith.
"""
~ o0o ~
"""
Twelve minutes ago, Barret had been talking to Red, Denzel and Marlene. Five minutes ago, Barret had been watching the sunrise. And two minutes ago, Barret had been keeping a lookout for any more suspicious activity or, 'stupid ass Shinra mooks.'
But now? Now, Barret was pacing.
'It's bin' about seventeen minutes since I last saw 'em. If they don't come back damn soon I'm gonna kick both their asses so hard-' His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden rusty creak at his feet. Blinking, Barret moved his huge boot out of the way of the latticed grate set into the floor to inspect further, when suddenly it juddered then sprang open. The dark-skinned man almost tripped over his own feet as Cait Sith's little white gloved hands appeared at the edge of the hole. The small robot quickly pulled himself up onto the deck before spinning around and peering back inside, hands outstretched.
Before Barret could say a word, a wicked claw lashed out from the darkness and dug its golden talons into the floor. Vincent quickly followed after, pulling himself up and moving aside with a sweep of his crimson cloak. He ignored Cait Sith's silent offer of help and instead crouched next to the grate, pushing the metal cover shut with a click as it locked into place.
For once, Barret was speechless... though the spell didn't last long.
"Yo! What sorta time d'ya call this?!" He crossed his burly arms and scowled at them, but the relieved grin on his face gave away his façade. Vincent slowly rose to his feet. It became immediately evident that the gunslinger was not standing to his full height, and instead appeared to be slightly hunched over. His pale features struck Barret as he turned towards him. The ex-AVALANCHE leader unfolded his arms and shot him a suspicious, cursory glance.
"Barret, I need to contact Reeve." At this, Barret's brow furrowed and he looked at Cait Sith in question, who simply replied by shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. He turned back to Vincent.
"Mind tellin' me what the hell's goin' on first?"
"Cait Sith will brief you."
"... Ah will?" A sharp glance from Vincent quickly made the cat correct himself. "Err, aye! Ah'll fill yer in. Nuthin' tae worry aboot!" Barret seemed to mull over the matter before he finally gave a gruff nod of his head. Fishing the PHS from his cargo pants' side pocket, he threw the device to Vincent who deftly caught it.
"Alright. Go an' call Reeve, but once yer done I'm expectin' yer report too. You ain't gettin' outta this that easily." The hulk of a man turned to leave, but hesitated. Glancing back over his huge shoulder, he said, "His speed dial numba is one-nine-seven-two." Then he continued on his way with Cait Sith in tow. Vincent raised a brow at the gun-armed man's back before looking down at the sleek black handheld in his palm.
He had no idea how to speed dial.
He came from an age, a world, where phones were all connected by wires. Technology had advanced significantly since then and his long sleep quickly saw to it that he was buried in ignorance when it came to more... recent aspects of technological development. Nevertheless, Vincent endeavoured.
Flipping open the device, he fumbled with strange screens and alien menus. He knew some fundamental elements to the phone, having been forced to use it three years ago during their journey. Yet this model was significantly different from the one he last saw. He personally found it unnecessary; there was no need to replace the last model. It still worked to its intended function, after all. Finally reaching the keypad menu, Vincent pressed the previously advised keys before hitting the glowing green button. The phone began to ring.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
Beep! "Ah, Barret!" On recognising Reeve's voice, Vincent brought the device up to his ear. "Making good on your promise to contact me, I see. I take it this is about last night's fire?" Vincent momentarily became lost in thought, leaving Reeve hanging on the other end of the line. "... Barret? Are you still there?"
"... Reeve."
"Oh! Vincent!" The WRO leader's surprise was palpable. "What a surprise! Is everything alright?"
The gunman almost hesitated,"It is as so." Reeve made an agreeable sound, so Vincent continued, "Though I do not recall speed dial numbers being more than one digit in length."
The well-groomed man almost sounded sheepish as he hastily responded, a hint of embarrassed inflection to his words. 'Yes, well being in the position that I'm in, it's a precaution in the event that my contact number falls into wrong hands. My number cannot be accessed by normal means, only through this programmed code. It was at Barret's suggestion, actually.' Vincent fell silent. Sensing that this was an intended business call rather than leisure, Reeve filled in the silence for him. 'So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Vincent?'
"There have been some... suspicious sightings. On further inspection, it would appear to be Shinra."
It was Reeve's turn to fall silent. Vincent turned from the light breeze that teased strands of ebony hair from his bandanna to wisp gently across the bridge of his nose. He continued as he watched the rising sun in the reflection of the sea, "Are you familiar with the acronym, SIN?"
"Shinra Intelligent Neo-genesis."
Vincent blinked, "What?"
"The last word is from the language of the Ancients, or Cetra. 'Neo' means new, while 'genesis' means, 'the coming into being,' or 'the origin.' So I presume overall its intended use is to mean, 'intelligent rebirth' though I am still theorising-"
"That is not what I meant, Reeve," he interrupted, "how do you know this?" Vincent's question sounded more like a demand.
Reeve hesitated on the other end of the line, before uncharacteristically sighing, "I've known for a while." The WRO leader listened to the stunned silence at the other end before continuing, "I have been aware of their presence for about four months now. Tracking their movements and keeping them under heavy, yet covert, surveillance. They appear to be no threat. In fact, most of their observed efforts are in favour of the Planet."
"... And you thought it wise not to inform us?" The gunslinger could not keep the slight taint of bitterness from his words as he gripped the small handheld tighter.
"Please understand, Vincent." The earnest plea gripped the gunslinger's attention and he listened with great advertence. "... This is within the WRO's jurisdiction. I have a responsibility for everyone and the Planet. I can easily understand the concerns of a Shinra group suddenly rising up, but to let it be known would cause widespread panic. I gave you all the task of assisting with the Planet's healing. To let you all know about this development would only distract from and interfere with your mission. I am taking great precautions, and as such, I'm handling it. It's under control."
Vincent remained quiet for a few moments, carefully turning over Reeve's heartfelt confession. Finally, he spoke, "Do you intend to tell the others of this, 'development?'"
"... In time. I promise." Vincent tucked his chin into his cowl before he slowly lowered the phone from his ear and hung up. Staring out at the horizon, the wind sweeping gently at his cloak, Vincent felt an overwhelming sense of loss. His quest for answers had finally rewarded him with one... but it was a bitter pill to swallow. How many more lies would be weaved? And by his own comrades at that? In hindsight, Vincent could now see the oddity to Cait Sith's words when they first 'discovered' the new Shinra group's presence. The cat had known all along.
He raised his golden gauntlet and stared hard at the metal. His mind was a flurry with unanswered questions and he sank into deep reflection.
The intense feeling of sickness he had suffered previously, the emergence of this new Shinra or 'SIN' as they were also known as, Reeve's newly confessed secret, Cloud's whereabouts, Denzel's troubled actions, Tifa's mysterious scar, Chaos' strange behaviour and his own increasing lack of control...
Sharp and wicked talons flexed and glimmered in front of a burning sun.
It came upon Vincent's shoulders to make a heavy decision, but he could no longer deny it. He desperately needed answers, especially ones regarding his progressively worsening relapses in control. And there was only one place that he knew of where he might glean a single scrap of hint or clue.
After much deliberation, Vincent finally came to a decision. He was going back.
'Nibelheim...'
Four voices cackled and echoed in his head.
