Tifa had been in this nightmare before. Flames surrounding her. She is unable to move, scream, do anything. Sephiroth watches with cold amusement. Barret, Nanaki, and Cloud are not usually there, but the dream has taken many forms. Regardless, it always ended the same way, with Tifa jolting up in bed, tears on her cheeks and soaked in sweat.
Wake up, Tifa, she thought. Perhaps she would. Maybe she would open her eyes and Aerith would be there, trying to shake her awake because she was crying out in her sleep again. What if the past few days had only been a bad dream? It would make more sense to Tifa than the travesty that was unfolding around her.
But Barret's arms, still restraining her, were real enough. Tifa was no longer fighting him, but he had not released his hold. It was, perhaps, the only thing keeping her upright.
Cloud lifted his head, just enough that they could see his face. The look in his eyes was listless, defeated. Barret tensed, but Cloud did not look or move towards them. Nanaki's fur was raised all along the ridge of his back. Sephiroth alone was calm. He faced Tifa, Barret, and Nanaki, watching them patiently. He did not turn back toward Cloud. He did not have to. He was in control.
Barret, being himself, broke the tension.
"The hell is this?" he asked.
His words were angry, but they had no bite to them. He was unnerved, more so than Tifa had ever seen him.
"What do you want with us? With Cloud?"
At his name, Cloud's eyes flicked towards them and away again. Sephiroth laughed softly.
"Cloud?" Sephiroth questioned.
He looked to Cloud and back at them, raising one silver eyebrow in mock confusion.
"Him?" he said, with a careless jerk of the head in Cloud's direction. "He has no name. He was not even given a number. As I said, a failed experiment."
Sephiroth shook his head, parodying regret but smiling all the while. Nanaki curled his lips, his teeth gleaming in a snarl. The muscles in his back legs and shoulders twitched as if he were barely restraining himself from attacking. Tifa's eyes were drawn to the branded XIII on his quivering shoulder.
"His name is Cloud!" Nanaki growled.
He was trying to use his more mature voice, but it sounded young and uncertain to Tifa. Nanaki turned back toward her. His eyes implored her to do something.
"Cloud…" Tifa managed.
Her voice had no strength. Look at me, she begged silently. Cloud's eyes were lowered. They swept back and forth, as if trying to remember or figure something out. Barret made a frustrated sound in his chest that vibrated against Tifa's back.
"Enough of this cryptic shit!" he spat. "The hell are you tryna say?"
Sephiroth gave them a bland look. He sighed, like a teacher with a particularly disappointing student.
"I'm saying," he intoned slowly. "He is a failed experiment. A puppet. Put together piece by piece by Hojo five years ago, with Jenova cells and mako. After…this."
He waved dispassionately at the illusion of the burning village around them.
"An intended Sephiroth clone," he explained, smirking. "A failed one. But still, he's proven quite useful to me. Hojo would die if he knew."
Cloud was watching Sephiroth now with a dull curiosity.
"Nah, that's a lie," Barret said. "Right, Tifa?"
He released Tifa slowly, keeping one large hand on her shoulder.
"You've known Cloud since you were kids, right? He was there before all this happened, wasn't he? Five years ago? Tell him."
Tifa's head felt unusually heavy. She could not look up to meet Barret's eyes. It wasn't supposed to go like this, she thought numbly. Aerith and I were going to figure it out. I was supposed to have the answers by now. But Tifa had none. Only the truth, which was that Tifa had never seen Cloud after he left Nibelheim seven years ago. Not until he appeared in Midgar weeks ago, familiar yet strange.
Sephiroth laughed. "What's wrong, Tifa? You look like you don't feel very well. Should I show everyone what's in your heart?"
Barret's hand squeezed her shoulder. Tifa swayed beneath it. Nanaki pressed closer to them, away from Sephiroth and Cloud. He looked up at Tifa, his tail lowered.
"Tifa?" Nanaki asked. "What's going on?"
Enjoying himself, Sephiroth scanned the destruction around them. He motioned toward a body behind him, bloody and splayed. Tifa recognized him. It was the photographer who had taken their picture five years ago, before their trip to the reactor.
"Check his pocket, Cloud."
Cloud twitched at the sound of Sephiroth's softly spoken command. His footsteps toward the body were strange and lurching. Even from a distance, Tifa could see his hand shaking as he reached down. He stood slowly, staring at a small rectangular sheet in his hand. A photograph. Cloud stared down at it. His face was blank, but Tifa could see the confusion in his eyes.
"It turned out nicely, don't you think?" Sephiroth taunted. "Go on, show it to your…friends."
This time, Cloud was unresponsive to Sephiroth's words. He continued to stare down at the photograph, head shaking slowly. Sephiroth made a sharp movement with his hand, and the photograph flew from Cloud's, landing between Nanaki's front paws.
Tifa looked down at her own smiling face. She was fifteen years old, smiling and waving. Proud to be leading two SOLDIERS into the mountains. She looked tiny between the towering figures of Sephiroth and Zack on either side of her. It was exactly as she remembered it.
Nanaki flinched away from the photograph. Barret kicked at it with his boot, flipping it over and away from them.
"That should be Cloud, right?" Nanaki asked Tifa.
"It's that Zack guy?" Barret asked her. "Another illusion? Tifa?"
Tifa did not answer them. She looked beyond Sephiroth, to where Cloud was still staring down at his hands, now empty. What was he thinking? I have nothing, Cloud, Tifa thought desperately. That picture is my truth. What's yours?
"It's not Tifa's fault," Sephiroth said. "She's hardly the only one who has been fooled."
He paced in front of them.
"Jenova can become anyone," he continued. "She wiped out an entire people, preying on their paltry emotions. Their hate. Their fear."
Sephiroth stopped in front of Tifa. He grinned.
"Their love."
He shook his head, pityingly.
"Legend has it they were a wise people, the Cetra. But their emotions weakened them. Jenova became those they loved, and they were helpless to raise a hand against her in defense."
Tifa was shaking her head. If she had the strength to move her arms, she would cover her ears.
"A boy named Cloud," Sephiroth continued. "Perhaps you knew one, once. Your memories of him, your…emotions. The Jenova cells responded to them."
He gestured toward Cloud.
"And so we have it. A failed experiment. A puppet, made of Jenova cells, mako, and memories."
Cloud was looking at Tifa now, really looking. Tifa looked back, unable to do anything else. The look on his face was of a man questioning his own existence. Tifa had never seen anything like it. It destroyed her heart. She could not fully process what Sephiroth was saying. She could not begin to deconstruct his logic, to unroot his deception. Her memories could not disprove what he was saying. Only Cloud's could.
"Cloud," she whispered.
His name was all she could say. Barret's hand was firm on her shoulder, sensing her desire to move toward him. Sephiroth's shoulders shook with laughter.
"Tifa, Tifa, Tifa," he tutted. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You were not the first to be deceived by Jenova. It might just be, though, that you will be the last."
The words hung ominously between them. Sephiroth turned toward Cloud and reached out a hand.
"Let me take you back to yourself," he said. "The version that gave me the black materia. Who would have thought a failed experiment could be so useful?"
Tifa realized that Nibelheim was fading around them. The bodies, the ruined buildings, the flames, all of it was dissolving into white. The illusion had served its purpose. Tifa felt dizzy and disoriented. Sephiroth walked slowly away from them, into a distance that narrowed to an infinitesimal point. Cloud's eyes were drawn towards him.
"What you brought me before would be enough to destroy this world."
Sephiroth's voice now seemed to come from all directions, reverberating off of nothing.
"But what you have now…" the disembodied voice continued. "With that, we can destroy all worlds."
As if the thought had suddenly occurred to him, Cloud looked down at his sword. Tifa saw what she had before, the flicker of grey to black. His movements hypnotic, Cloud reached toward the materia slots on the weapon. He pulled out a blackened orb, swirling with streaks of red and contained lightening. Black materia. Impossible, Tifa thought, petrified. How? Barret and Nanaki's cries voiced her confusion and despair.
Cloud did not react to their voices. He followed Sephiroth, black materia in hand.
"Cloud, no!" Tifa found her voice.
Barret was also thrown off by the dissolving scenery and the reappearance of the black materia. Tifa easily evaded his slackened grip. She ran towards Cloud. Again, she had the sensation that this was a nightmare. The ground felt soft beneath her feet and the air was resistant, like running under water. She could not gain ground. Cloud got farther and farther away from her.
Eventually, her vision whited out entirely. Tifa kept going, or at least she thought she did. She could no longer feel her body. She remembered how she felt when she fell into the pit of mako and nearly drowned. There had been nothing but whiteness then too, a sense of betweenness. That she was neither alive nor dead.
Tifa pictured Cloud walking away from her. She held onto the image. In her mind, Tifa saw Cloud a hundred different ways. Fighting by her side. Reaching out a hand to catch her. Blushing when she caught him staring. Holding her tightly while she cried. Kissing her while lights exploded around them. Tifa reached for the connection between them, searching for the feeling of it. It felt like a shyly whispered request. Meet me at the water tower tonight? It felt like a promise.
Abruptly, she returned to herself. She was still surrounded by whiteness, but she was not alone. Cloud was there. He blinked at Tifa, perplexed at her presence. Sephiroth was there too, standing slightly in front of Cloud. He also seemed surprised to see her. Anger cracked his calm, careless exterior. He scowled at Tifa.
"Haven't you had enough?" he asked irritably.
Tifa was unsteady on her feet. There was no visible ground. She had the jarring sensation she was standing on air. She clenched her fists at her side. Be strong, she told herself. Cloud needs you. She had been frozen before, but now she was desperate. This might be her only chance to save him.
"I won't let you take Cloud!"
The words left Tifa in a shout. She was startled at her own voice, tormented and strained as it was. It drew Cloud's gaze toward her. His face was sorrowful, almost as if he pitied her. He believes Sephiroth, Tifa realized. She shook her head, defiant.
"It's not true, Cloud," she said hoarsely.
Cloud's expression did not change. Sephiroth sighed impatiently.
"It used to surprise me that a powerful and wise people like the Cetra could be so easily fooled by Jenova," he drawled. "But I am beginning to understand."
He titled his head, considering Tifa.
"What would it take for you to give up?" Sephiroth pondered. "Clearly you have no sense when it comes to preserving your own life. But what about the others?"
Sephiroth paced around her, like a predator stalking its prey. He continued.
"That's how she defeated them, you know. She took the forms of those they loved, and they could not bear to kill them. And so, they kept them close. Defended them against suspicions."
Sephiroth grinned at Tifa. She shivered.
"She posed as mothers, who were defended by fathers, then killed their children in their beds," he said. "Children, defended by mothers, who killed entire families."
His voice was quiet and compelling. Tifa listened, transfixed by his words. She had the sensation that a trap was being woven around her, but she did not know how to evade it.
"How many more have to die because you cannot accept that he is not Cloud?"
Feeling like she had no other choice, Tifa took the bait.
"What are you talking about?" she asked shakily.
He smiled.
"They all believed he was Cloud because of you, didn't they?" Sephiroth asked softly. "Do you think, just maybe, she would still be alive if you hadn't?"
Fury surged through Tifa, giving her sudden strength. She raised her fists. Tifa was not sure if a fight was possible in whatever strange plane of existence they were occupying, but she wanted nothing more than to try. Even if it was the last thing she ever did, it might be worth it to feel her fist crunch against Sephiroth's deceitful face.
"Enough!" she snapped. "You killed Aerith!"
Sephiroth shrugged off her anger. He shook his head, still grinning.
"I haven't killed anyone," he said. "Not since I killed your father."
His words hit her like a blow to the stomach. They fed her anger. She would kill him. She would. For her father. For Aerith. For Cloud.
"Kill me, if you'd like," Sephiroth told her calmly. "This body is not me anymore than that body is Cloud. I'll return to my true form soon enough, you'll see."
He took a step closer to her fists, goading her.
"The clones have been useful tools, nothing more. Even the failed ones." Sephiroth nodded towards Cloud. "As I said before, why would I kill anyone when a puppet could do it for me?"
There was a rushing in Tifa's ears. His words were poisonous, infectious. A virus. She tried not to hear them.
"You killed Aerith," she repeated.
Sephiroth slowly shook his head. "A puppet killed Aerith. Which one? It is hard to say. How could you ever be certain?"
"No," Tifa said.
Tifa was certain. Her mind would not entertain alternatives. She turned her eyes to Cloud, who was watching them with a mild curiosity.
"Tell him, Cloud," Tifa pleaded. "You were there when Aerith died. You saw it happen."
Cloud tilted his head, a puzzled frown pulling at his lips.
"Tifa," he said. "Don't worry."
He smiled at her, reassuringly. It was not a smile Tifa recognized.
"Aerith is fine."
The strength left Tifa's limbs at Cloud's words. Her fists dropped to her sides. She faintly registered Sephiroth's surprised laugh. Cloud took a step toward her.
"You don't have to be sad, Tifa," Cloud told her earnestly. "Aerith is still there. Right where we left her. She's there, praying."
Tifa's cheeks felt wet. When had she started to cry? There must have been some sort of ground beneath her because knees were on it. Tifa squeezed her eyes shut. She put her hands over her head. One word repeated in her head over and over. No, no, no.
"Ah, Tifa."
Sephiroth's voice was amused and patronizing.
"It's not his fault," he said. "He does not love. He cannot grieve. Truly, he is not even alive in the same way that you are. How could such a being understand what it means to die?"
Tifa covered her ears, but she could still hear Sephiroth's laughter. She registered a new sound, too weak to be called a cry. A low whimper. It was coming from her.
"Tifa?"
A polite, confused question. Cloud.
"You need not concern yourself with her any longer," Sephiroth instructed. "We've wasted enough time here. You know what to do."
Tifa could not see or hear, but she felt Cloud leave. For a long, terrifying moment she was alone. But seconds later, she smelled mako and felt rough rock beneath her elbows and knees. The cacophony of a battle assailed her ears, permeating her gloved hands that were still tightly covering them. She was back in the Northern Crater.