Author's Note: Hello again, it's been a long time since my last update, and I do apologize for that. To be completely transparent with you all, my father died peacefully in their sleep a little over a week ago after a very brief battle with cancer. So that is why I've been absent these past few weeks. However as things have started to return to a sense of normalcy, the experience has done what a lot of major life events do to me, which is it has inspired me to write, specifically it has inspired me to begin working on a new original story.
Now, that might leave some of you wondering 'What about this story?'. Once again, to be fully transparent with you all, this is something that I did think long and hard about, and I came to the conclusion that this story has grown from being a more than just a passive hobby story, and has become something that I'm deeply invested in and want to see to completion. So my focus will remain on completing this story, not just for me, but for all the wonderful people who've been following it. So you can all rest assured that I will remain devoted to trying to update this story once a week if possible.
Thank you all for your patience as I was working through this major life event, and I apologize that this chapter is a bit shorter than the others. I just really wanted to make sure that I could deliver a chapter to you all as soon as possible. Once again, thank you to everyone for reading, and I hope you all enjoy it.
The chime of an analog alarm clock rang as the early morning light of dawn crawled over the horizon, the sun's warm rays peeking through the blinds of a modest ranch style house sitting atop a hill overlooking the lush grasslands outside of Kalm.
With a yawn and a stretch, a sausage-fingered hand reached over to turn off the alarm. Once the ringing was silenced, the fat old man let out a pleased sigh from the comfort of their bed as they stirred from their restful slumber.
Pulling off his sleeping cap, he made for the bathroom to go about his morning rituals. He hummed a tune to himself while he scrubbed down in a refreshing hot shower, even performing a little jig after turning off the water and putting on a towel.
The late President Shinra once called retirement a slow suicide; to give up on life in pursuit of frivolous vices without purpose until eventually the cold embrace of death came knocking. Yet with each sunrise Palmer watched from the kitchen window while he drank a hot cup of coffee in his bathrobe, he couldn't help but relish in his life of frivolous vices.
With a smile on his face, the former director of Shinra's Air & Space department strode down a long hall and took a seat on a soft couch sitting squarely in the middle of a room with over three dozen model planes proudly displayed on the shelves along the wall. Palmer took a moment to admire them before reaching for his laptop on the coffee table.
The page he'd left open before going to bed lit-up on the screen, an online bid for a Supreme Edition P-94 model plane going for almost thirty gil under market value. Glancing at the countdown, he saw he'd timed his breakfast perfectly with only thirty-two seconds left in the auction.
With an excited stir, he typed in his bid, one-hundred and eighty-five gil, eleven gil higher than the current offer. He had no doubts that someone else would attempt to steal his precious P-94 out from under him at the last second, but those who sniped bids tended to do so in three different increments; one, five, and ten gil over asking. With that in mind, Palmer had no doubt that his eleven gil over asking would easily outdo the other bidders.
"Ten…"
Palmer cracked his knuckles.
"Nine… Eight…"
He stretched out his neck.
"Seven… Six…"
The mouse cursor moved over the 'Submit' button.
Five… Four…"
They placed a sausage-like finger over the left mouse button.
"Three… Two…"
The tip of Palmer's fingertip eased against it.
"One…"
A sudden crash erupted as a mighty boot bashed in the front door a few meters away. Palmer made a sudden yelp as two men in finely tailored black suits rushed inside. The fat old man scrambled to his feet, sending his laptop falling to the floor, bouncing on the wooden surface as Palmer stumbled over.
"Don't let him get away!" Rude barked.
"Oh, relax, will ya?" Reno replied, grabbing Palmer by the scruff of his neck and throwing him back down onto the couch. "Does he look like someone who does cardio?"
"Reno?! Rude?!" Palmer shot his head back and forth at the two Turks looming over him as they stood on each side of the couch to block his way.
"Been a while," Reno snickered, resting his baton over his shoulder. "Hope we weren't interrupting anything."
"Quit harassing him," another voice came from the busted-down doorway. Palmer looked over his shoulder at the tall man in a white coat striding inside. "Stress him too much and you might loosen a blood clot. Then what good is he?"
"Ruf— I mean, Mr. President?" Palmer stuttered. "What're you doing here? This isn't about the severance package, is it? I swear, I had no idea that a four-hundred-million gil payout was out of the ordinary!"
"As much as it pleases me to see you spill your guts so easily, that isn't what I'm here for," Rufus replied, standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed. "Although that does explain where my rainy day fund went a few years back," he shook his head. "But no, I'm here because I need information, and out of all of those narcissists and sycophants who might've known anything, you're unfortunately the only one still breathing."
"You…" Palmer eased into the cushions with a trepidatious smile. "You think I know things? Really?"
"Let's just say that for your sake," Shinra walked off to the edge of the room and picked up one of the model planes, examining it carefully. "I certainly hope you do."
"You wouldn't mind putting that down, would you?" Palmer asked with a ginger tone. "That's a limited edition."
"Uh-huh…" Shinra looked over the model once more before resting it on the mounted stand. "I'm sure if you've turned on the news at any point in the past three days, you've probably already heard about what happened in Nibelheim, haven't you?"
"If this is about Deepground, then I promise I had nothing to do with it!" The fat man immediately went on the defensive. "You can look at the documents and see for yourself! That was all Heidegger, Scarlet, and Hojo! I didn't even know about it until th—"
"Shut him up, Reno," Shinra commanded.
With a controlled amount of force, the redheaded Turk delivered a firm thwack to Palmer's right arm with his baton, soft enough not to harm him, but hard enough to get the point across.
"Youch!" Palmer rubbed the tender spot on his arm.
"Don't make such quick assumptions, Palmer," Rufus continued. "Does 'Gast's Final Wish' mean anything to you?"
"Gast?" Palmer blinked. "Like, the Dr. Gast?" He fumbled his sausage fingers together, his gaze unable to meet Rufus' as he murmured to himself. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm the one asking questions," Rufus said with an even tone. "Does it mean anything or not?"
"Well, I mean…" he fidgeted on the couch. "I'm not quite sure if I'm at liberty to say."
"Rude."
Without a word, Rude delivered a swift kick to one of the mounts, breaking it from the brackets holding it in place and sending a model plane tumbling to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces on impact.
"No!" Palmer cried out. "Not the SIG-230!"
"I never cared much for the Nomura produced models," Rude said, looking down at the shattered remains, adjusting his sunglasses. "They're flashy, but the convoluted assembly process makes them too fragile."
"That's because you're just a simpleton who can't understand the beauty of it!"
"Doesn't look all that beautiful from where I'm standing," Reno snickered, looking at the mess of pieces scattered on the floor.
"Enough," Shinra cut them all off. "Start talking or the KN-64 is next."
"The KN?!" Both Palmer and Rude exclaimed simultaneously, bringing their sight to the absolute mastercraft of miniature plane models sitting atop the highest shelf, reigning above its lesser counterparts.
"Don't you dare!" Palmer shot up from the couch, only to be shoved back down by Reno.
"Uh," Reno scratched his head. "Did I miss something?"
"It's the Nojima Miniatures Exclusive Platinum Edition KN-64," Rude spoke up, slowly approaching the miniature with a look of awe. "It brings the famous jet of the Wutai War to life in the palm of one's hand. Every part from the fuselage to the one millimeter bolts are all handcrafted with masterful precision. Even the cockpit was made as a perfect 1/72 scale replica of the real thing, with adjustable throttles and all!"
"Uh-huh…" Reno nodded slowly while Rufus rubbed their temples with a sigh. "Thanks for the infomercial. I didn't take you for, uh… that type of guy, I guess?"
"It's just a hobby," Rude replied sharply, adjusting his glasses and clearing his throat.
"If you say so, buddy."
"We're getting off track here," Rufus snapped. "Palmer, Gast's final wish, what does it mean?"
"President Shinra," Palmer pleaded. "You have to understand, I was always kept in the dark about that stuff. They never told me anything!"
"But you do know something," Rufus kicked over the coffee table to the side, making a loud crash as the former president closed the distance between them. "So tell me everything you know, now," he leaned forward, putting his fierce gaze inches from Palmer's faltering expression. "Or I break that stupid plane."
"You wouldn't!"
"Rude," Rufus called. The Turk jumped at his name, filled with trepidation of what command he was about to be delivered.
"Y-yes, sir?"
"Break it."
"Sir?"
"You heard me," Rufus growled.
Rude didn't say anything. All he could do was slowly rear his head toward the beautiful miniature sitting at eye-level to him. His hands trembled for a moment, but with a deep breath and a clench of his fists, he found his resolve. Only one-hundred-and-sixteen of these models were produced, less than the number of actual KNs that were manufactured. For him to destroy one of these sacred crafts would be the greatest test of his loyalty, but in the face of adversity, Rude held strong and drew back his arm. Then without letting his mind linger, he brought his fist forward.
"Alright, fine!" Palmer shrieked. "I'll tell you! It was Lazard!"
Rude's fist stopped mere centimeters from the plane, a testament to his precise control. Taking in a deep breath, the Turk let out a sigh of relief, faltering for only a moment as he adjusted his glasses again before returning to an at-ease stance with his hands clasped together behind the small of his back.
"What did you just say?" Rufus replied, a sharp bite in his words.
"Lazard had it!" Palmer repeated. Rufus' mouth fell agape at the name. Lazard Deusericus, the former Director of SOLDIER, or rather the late Director of SOLDIER. Though reports of Lazard's death had been falsified at the time of their betrayal of Shinra to keep the truth under wraps, Lazard had indeed met their end since then, and Rufus had hoped that'd be the last he'd ever hear of the name. "I-it was right around the start of the Genesis War," Palmer continued. "When Lazard went missing, Hojo said something about them taking some recordings Gast made right before he left Shinra."
"Go on."
"I-I didn't think much of it at the time, but your father seemed very displeased about it. I swear, I don't know anything else!"
Rufus eased back and huffed out of his nostrils. Closing his eyes, he crossed his arm and tapped his foot on the ground before speaking up again.
"Reno, Rude," he called. "We have all we need for now." Rufus strode toward the door.
Reno snickered before following his boss outside, while Rude turned back to the KN miniature, admiring it one last time before giving a small nod to the fat old man and hurrying out.
With his living room empty and wrecked, Palmer reached down to pick up his laptop and stared at the screen to see the words 'SOLD' in bold red letters over the P-94.
XXXXX
The Shera II blazed across the vast lands of the western continent as the jagged ranges of craggy mountains shifted into tall spires and towering mesas spread far and wide across the dry ground of the desert.
"Almost home, Nanaki," Tifa said as she and the feline-like creature watched from the great window overlooking the natural spread of the smooth cliff faces across Cosmo Canyon.
"I just wish we could be coming here on better circumstances," he said. "I'd hoped that the next time I took you all here, it wouldn't have been while we were trying to save the planet."
Tifa gave a solemn nod. She opened her mouth to speak, to offer some sense of reassurance, to say that next time would be different, that everything would be fine, and they'd be celebrating here once everything was all said and done, but she stopped herself just as the words caught on her throat. She wondered if there would be any true meaning to it, or if she'd just be speaking empty words that served no purpose but to patronize him. After taking a moment to think over her words more carefully, she finally spoke.
"If that day ever comes, then I can't wait for it."
Red looked up to her with a smile on his muzzle, but before anything else could be said, a monotone voice filled the bridge as the speakers blared.
"I'm detecting a fiend presence nearby," Shelke said. "I'm still assessing their genetic material, but they appear to be atypical for the region."
"Whaddya'll think?" Cid called out to the others. "You wanna take a look or just keep on headen' on?"
"I'm also detecting a reading of three humans nearby," Shelke added. "They may be in danger."
Cloud lifted his head as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Stretching his neck, he took a step forward.
"Guess that answers our question."
"You don't mind if I sit this one out, do you?" Yuffie groaned, laying flat on her back along the wooden deck of the bridge.
"No worries!" Tifa replied, sliding on a fingerless glove. "I think the three of us can handle it," she glanced over to Cloud and Nanaki.
"Hey now," Barret called out. "What about me?"
"What about you?" Cid said, spinning the wheel to adjust the trajectory of the airship. "Someone's gotta be on puke bucket duty for that one," he nodded over to Yuffie.
"Why can't Reeve do it?"
"If you can find him, then sure. Why the hell not?"
"You hear that, Reeve?" Barret shouted. "Reeve?" He looked up and down the bridge. "Where the hell did he go?"
"We're losing time," Cloud said.
"I agree," Nanaki replied. "We need to hurry. Those people could be in danger."
"It's okay, Barret," Tifa smiled, patting him on the shoulder as she passed him by. "There's always next time."
Barret mumbled something incoherent as the three rushed out of the bridge and made their way for the loading bay.
The bay ramp was open, revealing the cracked and dry orange ground over two-hundred meters below. One of the technicians handed them each an earpiece as they looked down at the desert beneath them.
"Put these in," the technician said while a team worked to secure three surfboard-like objects to the open ramp, snapping them onto a guided track to lock them in place.
Cloud and Tifa put in their ear pieces, while Nanaki fumbled it with his paws before the technician ultimately opted to put it in for him.
"Thank you," he grumbled, feeling a slight bruise to his pride.
"Sure thing, bud," the technician scratched Nanaki behind the ears. Nanaki felt that such an act should've been seen as demeaning, but the light kicking of his right hind leg said otherwise.
"Can you all hear me?" Shelke's voice rang through the ear pieces.
"Loud and clear," Cloud replied.
"I hear you," Tifa said.
"Me too," Nanaki shook his head, adjusting to the strange feeling of the device in his ear.
"There isn't a viable landing zone, so the three of you will have to drop-board to them."
"Drop-board?" Nanaki cocked his head.
"Those things over there," Cloud pointed to the three surfboard-like objects secured to the open bay door.
"Oh, that sounds fun," Tifa took a step forward and looked over the devices, noting the small jet-like propulsion devices along the edges of them. "Never used one of these before."
"They don't look like they were designed with four legs in mind."
"Neither are chocobo saddles," Cloud said. but you figured that one out, didn't you?" The SOLDIER planted his boots onto the board as metal fastening bands wrapped around to hold him in place.
While Tifa got onto her board, Nanaki looked over theirs with a skeptical eye, tapping a paw against it.
"Are you ready yet?" Shelke asked.
"No," Cloud answered. "Red is still… Hey, what the hell?"
Strife felt something dig its claws into the side of his shirt and his pants legs. When Tifa glanced over she saw that Nanaki had secured himself to Cloud with a fierce grip as he dug his claws into them.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Cloud snapped.
"I don't trust that board, but I trust you. So this'll have to do."
"Are you three ready yet?" Shelke asked again.
"Yes!" Nanaki replied. "We're ready!"
"Wait a second, no we're no—" Cloud's words turned into a distant shout as the tracks on the ramp sent the drop-boards shooting out of the ship and plummeting for the earth below.
Tifa moved hers with precise control as the boosters kicked in and guided her graceful descent. In the distance she made out the faint outline of strange figures at the base of a nearby mesa.
"I think I see them!" Tifa looked over to Cloud while he struggled to keep his drop-board stable as Nanaki's claws dug deeper.
"Find your balance, Cloud!" Red shouted over the roaring wind as they fell.
"A bit hard to do that when I've got an overgrown cat stuck to me and shouting in my ear!"
"I'm not a cat!"
"He is correct," Shelke chimed over the earpiece. "Nanaki's genetic structure doesn't even remotely align with any currently known felidae."
"Kinda beside the point!" Shifting his and Nanaki's weight, Cloud readjusted the board and followed Tifa's lead through the canyons, maintaining a safe descent in altitude as the jets kept them afloat.
Up ahead, Tifa bent her knees to lower her center of gravity. Her board shot across the sky with the speed of a comet, blaring closer and closer to her target by the second.
As she neared, the figures came into shape. Three humans, two without weapons, and a third in a gray cloak brandishing a staff trying to fend off six fiends. The creatures were humanoid in shape, but their bestial features and ravenous claws forsook any possibility of there being humanity within them. Most notably of all were the stubby black wings that sprouted from their left shoulders.
Tifa felt a chill run up her spine at the ominous sight, but quickly found her resolve and tightened her fist as the board neared its destination. Meanwhile, Cloud and Nanaki appeared to have finally found their balance, and were catching up with her.
"Here we go!" Tifa shouted.
As they soared toward the ground, they flew by a nearby cliff face. Leaping from Cloud, Nanaki's claws took purchase of the rocky wall as they ran along the side toward their quarry.
Finally free from Red's grasp, Cloud reached for the Fusion Sword on his back and braced for impact. Tifa however didn't need to brandish a weapon; she was just always armed.
Tifa disengaged the straps and kicked herself off the board, sending the flying hunk of metal into one of the fiends, impaling it to a nearby rock, killing it instantly. She then brought down a fierce flying kick to another fiend just as it was about to attack the cloaked figure with the staff, stirring up a cloud of thick dust on impact.
Cloud sprung off his drop-board and came at his enemies with a huge overhead swing onto a fiend, tearing through it as Nanaki leapt off the cliff face and pounced into the fray.
Their interception allowed the two unarmed humans time enough to flee, while also giving the staff wielder enough room to begin casting a series of destructive magics to give their three saviors support as they fought fiends from all sides.
With devastating punches, mighty swings of their blades, and ferocious claws alongside gnashing fangs, the trio were able to wear away their opponents one-by-one until all of the one-winged fiends lay defeated at their feet.
Once the final fiend had fallen, Cloud, Tifa, and Nanaki's shoulders rose and fell as they tried to slow their breathing. After confirming that the last fiend was indeed dead, Cloud twirled his Fusion Sword and fastened it to his back with a labored sigh.
"You okay?" Cloud glanced over to the cloaked figure with the staff. After taking a moment to look them over up close, he finally took notice of just how short they were.
"Cloud?" The cloaked figure replied, stumbling back a bit, their visage obfuscated by their hood. "Tifa?"
"Wait a second," Tifa cocked her head as the figure approached, sensing something familiar about them. "Are you…"
The figure pulled back their hood with a pale hand to reveal a pair of blue eyes partially hidden by wild bangs of light brown hair.
"Denzel?!" Cloud and Tifa exclaimed.
"Long time, no see," they replied with a youthful grin.
XXXXX
The ambient hum of the computers droned in the background while Lucrecia scrolled through the files Shalua had provided for her. A cup of coffee that'd long since gone cold rested on her desk, which Vincent silently took hold of and started to carry away to be reheated.
"You can leave that here," Lucrecia said, her gaze still fixed on the screen. "I don't mind it cold."
"As you wish," the former Turk replied, turning around and returning the cup to its place on her desk.
"Thanks," Lucrecia grabbed the cup and took a sip, her eyes not shifting from the text in front of her.
"I'll leave you be."
"Don't," her tone didn't ring of any clear emotion as Vincent stopped in his tracks, obeying her command. "It wasn't fair how I acted toward you yesterday, and I apologize for that."
"There's nothing for you to…"
"Please don't finish that sentence," Dr. Crescent cut him off. "But if you're really wanting to make yourself feel better, can you just do one thing for me?"
"Of course," his words were resolute, ready to commit to anything she asked of him.
"Why did you lie to me?" She asked, spinning in her chair and looking Vincent directly in the eyes. "Why did you lie about Sephiroth all those years ago?"
Vincent felt a pit in his chest as he averted his gaze from the scientist. Vincent carried with him countless memories, but few could he recall with such clarity as that one; he and Lucrecia, face-to-face for the first time in decades, and yet all he could do was the very same thing he'd done all those years before; he lied because he believed the truth to be too inconvenient for her.
"Please, tell me, is Sephiroth… is my son still alive?"
Her words haunted his mind, but none haunted him more than his answer.
"No."
After taking a moment to relive the memory, Valentine managed an answer.
"Because I didn't want to hurt you."
"And you lying to me wouldn't?" Lucrecia replied.
"I thought it would've been easier for you if…" Vincent stopped. For all the wrongs he believed he'd made throughout his life, Vincent couldn't help but notice how often he kept finding himself trying to justify his mistakes. "No. You're right," he said. "You should've known the truth."
Lucrecia took in a deep breath and let loose a soft exhale before spinning her chair back around toward the monitor.
"We're two porcupines, you and I," Lucrecia made a sardonic chuckle.
"I don't think I understand?"
"Our intentions are earnest, but whenever we try doing what we think is right for the other, we just prick each other with our spines," her head rolled back in her chair as she stared at the fluorescent lights above. "The closer we try to be, the more we hurt each other. Ironic, isn't it?"
"You've never hurt me."
Lucrecia closed her eyes and shook her head with a faux smile. "I'm sure you want to believe that."
The sound of the bell from the freight elevator rang, capturing their attention as the wide door slid open to reveal Shalua leading a team of WRO personnel as they pushed a huge cart with a white cloth draped over top of it, covering the massive figure being carried on it.
"Put it over there," Shalua pointed to the center of the room. "Once the subject is in place, we can begin preparing one of the vats for containment."
"Is that him?" Vincent asked, nodding to the cart as it was wheeled across the room.
"You know anyone else who's this big?" Shalua replied.
Vincent didn't give a response.
Standing from her chair, Lucrecia approached the cart once it came to a complete halt and reached for the cloth drape. Peeling it back, she unveiled the still visage of Azul, his bestial features devoid of life, scarred and battered with the marks of a fatal battle.
"As predicted, decomposition hasn't yet occurred," she pulled back his lips and examined his gums to find no signs of recession. "This should serve as an adequate specimen."
"What do you plan on doing with him?" Vincent asked, approaching the corpse.
"Only what's necessary," she answered with an inflection that was devoid of any sense of emotion as she produced a syringe and jabbed it into Azul's arm. Even dead, the Tsviet's veins were easy to find, and it took her little time to draw a blood sample.
Lucrecia stared at the crimson fluid with a stoic gaze, as though she were staring directly into the dying cells within it. Much like the body it came from, the blood had yet to show any signs of death. It stirred and flowed in the syringe without any coagulation.
"Necessary to do what?" Vincent asked. Lucrecia's answer came swift, and the clinical nature of her voice made her words sound unnerving, even for the former Turk.
"To find a way to kill Jenova."
XXXXX
"Lazard?" Reeve tapped his foot and scratched at his beard, standing before the likeness of Rufus Shinra on the holo-projector of the Shera II's private comm room. "That's a name from a little before my time, unfortunately. I was just a civil engineer working in a cubicle at the time. So nothing like that ever passed over my desk."
"You're certain about that?" Rufus replied.
Reeve dug deeper for any memories he could recall. At the time of Lazard's supposed death, his name became something that was only spoken in hushed whispers that were swiftly squashed the moment a superior caught wind of it. Naturally, that'd only served as fuel to spark Reeve's curiosity.
"I did look into it on my own time," the leader of the WRO said. "But my access to privileged information like that was severely limited. There's nothing I could tell you that you wouldn't already know or have access to."
"That's unfortunate to hear," Shinra sighed. "Lazard, Scarlet, Heidegger, Hojo, my father… Anyone who knew anything isn't around to share their secrets anymore."
"It certainly seems that way," Reeve started pacing. "What information do you have on the investigation into Lazard's disappearance?"
"Little-to-none. It seems Heidegger was either too disinterested or too incompetent to find anything of substance," he scoffed. "Both are distinct possibilities."
"Have we considered looking into Hollander's old facilities? Maybe we can find something there?"
"That's our next step, but my father had those labs scoured a long time ago, so I don't expect it to be a fruitful endeavor."
"Gast's final wish…" Reeve murmured the words to himself as he kept thinking. All avenues seemed to be deadends, but Reeve had always been a strong believer in the idea that adversity breeds innovation, and the solution he came to was certainly innovative, so innovative in fact that he couldn't help but feel it edged toward becoming outlandish.
"I know that look," Rufus said. "What're you thinking?"
"Just keep following the leads you have already, and I'll explore what options I have available to me," he stopped pacing and looked at the hologram. "We'll be in contact once I have more information."
"I look forward to it," Shinra said, cutting the communication as the hologram flickered out, leaving Reeve to stand alone in the dark room while he mused over the idea formulating in his head.
"If only the dead know where to look," he said. "Then we'll just have to get the dead to talk."