Gast

I hope I'm doing the right thing...

I keep thinking it, as the gates of Nibelheim loom into view, deceiving me, or anyone who lays eyes on them, about their innocuous rustic credentials. I never could have guessed, on that day three years ago, that I would be returning in this way, that I would find myself surreptitiously hastening into this cursed town full of anxious energy yet again.

But my new anxiety is no longer tempered with anticipation or hope, instead it's spiked with desperation. A poisonous concoction which is currently the only thing pumping through my veins and keeping me motivated. I have nothing but the obligation passed from Ifalna to myself—assist the planet, contain the threat of Jenova.

I was uneasy with his experiments even before they had escalated. I'd made that same mistake once—the mistake of thinking that Jenova was a thing one could understand, that one could make use of. I've long since been fully awake with knowledge of the consequences for playing with such fire.

I gather my cloak more tightly about me, attempting to guard against the chill that clings to me as I hurry through the sleeping town.

He thinks he can become the will of Jenova, and what is worse, he can, at least to some extent.

—"It's a form of communing."—

He'd explained, arranging it's cells for me to observe under the microscope. His eyes closed, face cryptically still.

—"introspection becomes extrospection, I can feel them, as if they were part of me, yet still disparate. In doing so, I can learn what they learn. They become me, under my influence."—

I hadn't disguised my disapproval.

—"And you become them, they learn what you learn."—

He'd shaken his head.

—"No. Jenova is unconscious, it is my will that asserts itself."—

—"You are aware that the unconscious is the most influential part of the mind?! You are inviting a malevolent alien force increasing entry to your psyche. It's madness!"—

—"You only perceive it as madness because you are afraid. Such slavish morality will never preserve the planet. If I can become the will of Jenova, I can control it's threat and perhaps other threats as well—What is your solution Professor?"—

It had been a rhetorical question, he already knew the answer.

After the last of my hopes for my family had been extinguished, I'd turned my frayed attentions dutifully to studies of the Cetra. Humanity needed to learn to emulate their ways if we were to preserve our planet. The knowledge was there, it just needed to be implemented. I'd begun work on a plan to aggregate that information, to distribute it—begin with rural settlements, slowly build an awareness, an alliance. It would take many years, a gentle learning curve, so long as humanity was moving in the right direction.

When I hadn't replied he'd laughed.

—"Humans are not Cetra Professor. You know this. You might get some willing to try... but most? Most will miss their conveniences too much. And Shinra? Are they going to give up all their power to start cultivating the land?"—

I'd felt like some archetypal father figure from one of those literary tragedies. Was that not the point of such commentary? A warning of some kind? I was never one for the arts, but, she would have known. Lucrecia... was this something like what you felt when you had your premonitions...?

Sephiroth had been spending extending amounts of time out in the wilderness, in and around the Northern Crater. He'd ceased telling me of all of his exploits and I'd become nervous to ask. It was then that I doubled my focus into researching the past in more detail. It increasingly seemed to me that a threat of a different nature could be growing right under my nose—and he was less and less willing to listen.

I was desperate for any details of the personal circumstances of his birth. Of any elements of his childhood that had occurred behind my back. I'd known his parents, and both were highly secretive sorts. Lucrecia had been a gifted scientist whose sensitivity lent enormous artistry and subtle insight to her work. That same sensitivity had been her downfall. Soon after Sephiroth's birth she'd gone missing. The circumstances... the state of her mind... and a previous attempt... had led us all to understand that she'd likely killed herself.

She had been my assistant, my friend, yet still I'd not wanted to pry, or terribly enough, to let such a tragedy get in the way of our research. I was blinded by my own foolhardy mania. I'd always thought she'd gone mad... Her sensitive nature... the unfortunate drama with Vincent...

It turns out she'd been the first to understand what the rest of us could not. Was it Jenova's influence? Her innate intuition? A combination thereof? I need to know for certain what fate befell her.

Sephiroth always seemed less than disinterested whenever I raised the matter. In fact, he was actively angered by it—in his disciplined, cold and coiled way. Surely this was a sign that I must find a way to penetrate that guard. That what lay beneath it could somehow be catalysing his avoidant, destructive zealotry? Coming to Nibelheim has been a last resort, pitiful almost. Perhaps there is something here, something I'd missed before for not having been looking, something to secure him to who he is, some clue or relic in the town of his origin.

It was the only other lead available to me.

I'd left a note for him at my Icicle Inn home, letting him know where I'd gone. His trips may have grown long but I still suspect he will likely return from the crater before I can make my own arduous journey back from the western continent.

I'd asked him to come with me before his own departure but he'd rejected the idea out of hand. Something about Knowlespole seemed to have unaccountably enchanted him, and he was in no hurry to leave the place. Part of me hopes he might concede to join me once he finds my missive, if for no other reason than out of concern for my safety.

I could believe that of him. Stubborn, arrogant, and dangerous as he is... I can't lose him too... not now, after everything.

My heart beat thumps audibly inside my ears, and I pull my hood further over my brow as I approach the mansion. It appears to be in disuse for the moment, but there's no way of knowing who could be watching.