Part Five: November Storms

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      "Six-B Squad to Six-A Squad. Come in if you please."
      Howard the security guard heard the radio on his desk sputter to life suddenly and he jumped, nearly falling from his chair. The unruly radio spat static and he stared at it sleepily, only half paying attention to the conversation suddenly beginning upon it.
      "Six-A to Six B. I copy. What's happening?"
      "Disturbances from Sixty-Eight. Something's going on up there."
      "That's the WDD floor. There've been things going on up there all day, they're testing materia."
      "I understand that, but the memo I received today stated there'd be no unauthorized usage of the mako facilities after ten."
      "You're going to make us come up there, aren't you?"
      "Affirmative."
      "Damn you. Over and out."
      The radio died again and Howard leaned back in his crickety office chair. Here he was on the graveyard shift. Again. He sighed, scratching himself. At least he was pulling easy lobby duty. Those security guards on patrol in the upper floors were always running back and forth, paranoid over noises and climbing the stairs fifty times an hour. Shinra security was tight, he thought smugly, Four guards to every ten floors, each four split into two groups of partners, group A taking floors 1-5, group B taking 6-10. Sleepily, he itched under the waist of his pants, the elastic chafing and uncomfortable. Hence, the Six-B Squad patrolled floors sixty-six all the way up to the top, the seventieth, President Reeve's massive office. With the majority of Shinra's research going on up there along with the entire company's data banks located up on sixty-nine, Howard understood why Squad Six-B was the jumpiest.
      The lobby guard surveyed his domain, the harsh flourescent lights revealing every inch of the luxurious Shinra foyer. The bulletproof, tinted main glass doors stood to the front of him, locked and barred against intruders. He stared at his reflection in them for a while, wondering if he could get any more bored. As though in response, there suddenly came a massive thundering from somewhere far above his head, followed by a trembling so deep that the line of dark doors before his eyes shattered one by one, throwing their tinted glass all over the newly scrubbed lobby tiles. Repeated tremors rocked the building, each louder than the last, each causing the lighting above his head to flicker and potted plants to tip over and spill their soil. As the last one faded away, Howard slowly opened his eyes. He hadn't meant to close them, but he'd been afraid the ceiling would come crashing down.
      "Shit--!"
      The lone word spat from his crackling radio, now on the floor, and Howard stooped to pick it up, cradling it in his shaking hands. It spoke again as he held it and he nearly dropped it in surprise.
      "Six-A to Six-B. What in Christ was that? That was from your floors, boys."
      No answer. Howard felt his heart sink.
      "Six-A to Six-B, do you copy?"
      Still no answer. From the hollow sound of Squad Six-A's voice, Howard could tell the two men were in the stairwell. After a moment of contemplative silence, one of them spat, "Six-A requesting back up now! Second Class!"
      Immediately, voices chimed over the radio in response, the command triggering the training and emergency strategies that all of Cloud and Reno's guards knew.
      "Backup A copies. Hold on up there."
      "Backup B, copy!"
      "Backup C's coming."
      Howard licked his suddenly dry lips and put them against the radio. With one trembling finger he depressed the talk button and muttered, "Backup D, on my way." He clipped the small radio onto his belt, then quickly checked his pistol. He'd never had to fire it and hoped he wouldn't have to break that record tonight. Giving the lobby a quick once-over, he turned and huffed off towards the employee elevators.
      Leaning against the rear wall of the tiny compartment after boarding, the sappy Shinra elevator music tinkled quite unsoothingly in his ears. The car zoomed upwards, traversing the sixty-eight floors quickly. Too quickly, Howard thought, a single cold bead of sweating sliding down his flushed cheek. He stood there and took back every complaint he'd made about his boredom. There was a terrified feeling in his gut about what he'd confront when those elevator doors opened.
      "This is Six-A. Backups, report your status."
      The voice that responded was broken with panting as its owner huffed frantically up the stairwell. "Six-A, "the guard began, "A, B, and C have all joined and are currently on 46 and ascending."
      "Backup D, where the hell are you?"
      With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Howard raised the radio to his lips.
      "I'm on the elevator. . . uh, floor 32 and ascending."
      "You got to be kidding me. . . Howard, your fat ass is supposed to take the stairs in emergency situations. You're going to come out in the old labs, while we'll be at the end of the WDD corridor. Don't you pay attention during drills?"
      "Umm. . . "
      "Backups meet and then travel as a group to those requesting them. It's safer that way. Damn you, Howard!"
      Squad Six-A's leader sounded decidedly annoyed and Howard knew he'd probably tell Cloud and Reno of his screw-up on Monday and get him fired. It just wasn't fair. There were so many stupid security guidelines and measures and rules to remember, and Howard just wasn't good at that stuff.
      "Six-A, what should I do?" he asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice.
      "Push the emergency stop on the elevator. It's better that you just stay there than go wandering about by your--"
      A loud crackle of static interupted him and suddenly one of the guards from the disappeared Six-B Squad's voice came through. "Don't come up here!!" the man pleaded, his voice tight with pain, "Oh, gods!, evacuate! Evacuate now--!" There was a screech of tearing metal, the sound of gunfire, a man's scream. Then there was only the white noise of empty static. Howard paled.
      "Six-A?" he whispered into his radio. There was a moment of contemplative silence.
      "We're going in. . . Howard, stop your elevator. Backup, move your asses."
      "Six-A, could you put your speaker on?" Howard asked meekly. The Squad responded in the affirmative and the security guard quickly depressed the bright red emergency stop button on the elevator console. The employee elevator screeched to a halt halfway between the forty-eighth and forty-ninth floors. In a mixture of relief, dejection, and guilt, Howard plopped down on the floor to wait. He held the radio in his lap, able to follow Six-A's every word and action since they'd switched their radio onto automatic speaker mode. It picked up every sound and let the man listen in. He heard the two guards who made up Squad Six-A speaking lowly of the disturbances, their voices reverberating against the cold walls of the stairwell they crouched in.
      The elevator shook suddenly, nearly imperceptively, with muted rumbles coming from above. Howard shivered, unable to even imagine what was up there, what had made the guard from Squad Six-B cry out as he had. He looked down at the radio suddenly, hearing the backup arrive.
      Softly, the stairwell door opened and the shuffle of twelve guards was heard: the security squads of floors 2, 3, and 5 which composed the second class backup team. Minus Howard, of course.
      "It took you long enough, "Six-A snapped, his attitude about the situation grim and annoyed. His partner echoed his sentiments, then a man Howard recognized as Terry from Three-B spoke.
      "What's going on?" he asked, "Are we going in?"
      "We're going in. Tight formation, pistol-packers in front, Kin, Victor, Jenni, you three have shotguns, you flank us. I don't know what's in there so we proceed with the utmost caution. We go in, get Six-B, then move out. We can call the reserves once we're clear. Understand?"
      Howard couldn't hear it, but the group nodded. Not one of them spoke the thoughts they all were thinking: the Six-B Squad was dead. The scream that'd sounded over the radio had been that of a dying man. Howard heard them suddenly checking their weapons and preparing themselves for a conflict. He was glad he wasn't there. He'd have passed out from nerves by then. Just listening to them was making him sweat.
      "Howard, I can hear you breathing, "Six-A growled suddenly, "If you want me to keep the speaker on, shut the hell up."
      "Sorry."
      There were sniggers from the guards and then silence again. Howard heard them suddenly whispering, and then Six-A gave the signal for them to move out. There was the sound of the door to the Sixty-Eighth floor opening and then silence. Cloud and Reno had trained them well and they could move in total stealth. Howard strained his hearing, holding his breath. After a few minutes, he heard someone whisper, "The offices are empty. Everyone went home a while ago it seems."
      Before there could be a response, Howard again felt the violent rocking of the building. The quiet elevator walls swayed slightly.
      "From the old labs, "the radio whispered. It was one of the men of Six-A, "Did you hear that? Voices and . . . a roar? From down the hall. Move careful now, watch yourselves."
      There were more trembles, more vibrations as the guards glided down the WDD hallway. Howard thought he heard the things they'd spoken of. He definately had heard a roar come from the radio, the horrible ear-shattering sound of an angry animal. He listened now and made out the distant sounds of human screaming too. He thought it might be the Six-B Squad, but as he listened harder, they sounded more like children. If he could hear it through the radio, then he knew the guards actually up on the sixty-eighth floor must surely hear it too. If so they made no comment on the sound.
      Without warning, there was suddenly a different sound to concentrate on. Howard held the radio up to his ear, listening to his fellow guards' horrified whispers. They'd found the remains of the two men of Six-B.
      If he'd been there to see, he would have gazed upon two bodies, each broken in half and slumped in a pool of still-warm blood. They sat just outside the door to Hojo's old labs and each clutched a gun in their hands, knuckles still uncannily white with the strain of their grips. The guards said little at the discovery, though half of them had to turn away. Howard listened to the few mutterings of, "Oh, my god. . . " and "Shiiit. . . " and didn't need to ask what the problem was. He knew, and was able to be glad he wasn't there to share the sight.
      "Insignifcant, inconsequential worms!" a voice suddenly spat. The sound was so steeped in loathing Howard nearly flung the radio away from him and into the wall, as though the thing itself was the owner of the voice. He looked down at the featureless box of wires and tubes, his heart in his throat as the wretched, female voice spoke again. "Have you come here to foil me? Have you come here to dispose of me? You humans, you humans with your fat egos and your useless weapons."
      "Where the hell is that coming from?" Six-A growled. The voice hung in the air and there was the sound of weapons shifting against sweaty palms as the guards bobbed their heads about in the dark, searching out the source of it. Only the sight of the plain walls of the sixty-eighth floor and the broken bodies of their two comrades there on the tiles met their eyes. Howard watched the innocent radio in desperation, his imagination roaring.

      The first man of Squad Six-A, he who'd taken it upon himself to lead the quickly formed band of guards, searched about for the owner of the hate-filled voice that'd spoken out only seconds before. His partner looked to him questioningly and he shook his head, at a loss. The group was standing in a tight, round formation, each guard facing outward from the center, weapon at the ready. Six-A glanced to the bodies of his two friends from Six-B. They stared back at him, their eyes wide and bugging from their skulls in a frozen expression of terror and surprise. They seemed to know what was happening.
      One of the circling guards, a woman with long hair done up in a convenient braid and a shotgun in her hands, without warning doubled over, blood gushing from her mouth in a thick frothy stream. Loud as a gunshot, the noise of her spine cracking in two right below her shoulderblades filled the air and broke the tense silence. The guards nearest her put out arms to help, calling her name, but whatever force was attacking her was invisible to the eye. She died without uttering a sound, slumping to the ground, her weapon dropping with a clatter.
      "Worms. . . "the voice hissed again, and the Shinra guards' eyes widened in fear, "You shall be the first to fall. Feel priviliged." The other two shotgun-bearing guards mimicked the first's actions all of sudden, clutching at their sides as unseen hands raked across their bodies. One managed to get a single useless shot off, but both were soon dead, spines snapped and lungs crushed.
      "Show yourself!"Six-A bellowed, looking in horror at the fresh corpses and brandishing his .357 suggestively. He felt just as useless and unimportant as the voice insisted he was. He fired a few shots off in frustration and the guards around him winced, expecting to feel those invisible claws around their chests at any second. "You cowardly sonnuvabitch! Show yourself!"
      "Oh, how I wish I could. . . " the voice came again, "Show myself and make your minds balk in fear at my visage. For I am terrible. I am what countless races, what countless Planets have fled from and I am terrible. But my body was stolen from me, hacked away to mere cells by creatures such as you. But now those cells have reformed and I can think again. I can plan. I can kill."
      To prove her point, three more guards fell under her unseen hands, those three nearest to Six-A, including his partner. The man raced to help his friend even as bright crimson flowed up from his mouth and spilt over his lips and he began to collapse, his torso imploding under a powerful grip. Six-A grabbed at his arms, trying to hold him up, but the man fought him, screaming in agony, until there was finally that terrible snap, loud as a firecracker, and he blissfully slid into death.
      "We can't fight it. . . "Terry from Three-B barked, revolving slowly on the heel of his left foot, trying to keep his eyes everywhere at once. The other six remaining guards immitated his actions, fear butting its way through their training and showing on their faces. "What's happening? Why is this happening and who the hell is this?"
      Six-A shook his head, his partner's blood wet on his trembling hands.
      "Humanity is a curse. Of the many races I've commited to genocide, yours is the most backward, the most confused. I feel vile shame in knowing that it was yours that cut me apart, that stole away the vessel I chose to inhabit in my stay here. I hate every one of you squirming worms. If there'd ever been a time I might have quit your Planet for good, it's passed now. Now I battle to exterminate every one of you for the sake of vengeance. Not for hunger, not because it is my purpose as a disease to bring about death, but because your race has wronged me."
      Six-A had very little notion of what the strange, incensed voice spoke of, but he did have some vague idea, enough to form a cocky response. Enough to allow him to defend humanity, if even in a very small way. But that was humanity, fighting till the last, even if its final attack was a mere slap in the face.
      "We wronged you?" he asked, his voice strong, "We wronged you by fighting back as you tried to destroy us? You must be Jenova. I don't know how, but you must be. Well, bitch, we did destroy you, our Planet kicked your sorry ass. So deal with it. Lay down and die." He fired off a few rounds towards where it seemed the voice had come from, but of course they only sank into the plaster walls, leaving sharp little bulletholes that mocked him. In response, Jenova took the lives of three more guards, but slowly this time. Terry from Three-B was one of them. He felt claws cutting into the flesh surrounding his ribs, then crunches in his ears as they snapped one by one like dry twigs under her power. He cried out, a shrill scream of incredible agony that lasted until Jenova's hand finally closed around his heart and squeezed. He and two others sank dead to the ground almost simultaneously.
      "So fragile. . . "the voice said, very near to Six-A's ear. He licked his lips, averting his eyes from the bodies of his friends lying still on the tiles. "So fragile in body and fragile in mind. It takes only a squeeze, the proper nudge to make you drip blood or tears. Observe."
      There were only four guards left at this point and all sense of defensive positioning had been forgotten in their terror. Six A turned sharply as his three comrades, two men and a woman, seemed to suddenly go intensely rigid. Their eyes glazed over and their mouths opened. They dropped their weapons in a loud clatter and then followed them to the floor, releasing their own clatterings of screams and cries. Like ants under magnifying glasses they writhed, clutching their heads, as the living nightmare showed them things.
      "Leave them alone!" Six-A growled, darting from guard to guard, sweat stinging his eyes. "What have they done to you? Stop!"
      He looked helplessly on as they continued to suffer but there was nothing he could do. They seemed to be going through some mental traumas, fighting battles within their own minds that he just couldn't help them with. He would have loved to throw a punch at their foes, to sink a shell into their enemy's skull. But he was denied that luxary. He could only watch as they screamed, those shouts becoming fainter and fainter as Jenova sucked their lives away. Soon, his remaining companions were still, cries ceased. He would have only thought them unconscious if not for the blood erupting from their nostrils and their wide open, unblinking eyes. What had been living, breathing, thinking individuals were now only human-shaped mounds of dead bone and tissue. The lone living man among them looked on as mortality stared him in the face, unblinking.
      Alone now, Six-A shook his head slowly, backing up against the wall of the hallway and looking at the carnage spread around him. Twelve guards. Twelve co-workers. Twelve friends gone in the blink of an eye. He suddenly remembered the radio strapped to his belt and pressed the emergency button on its side. The Shinra-manufactured security radios had two red buttons on them. One summoned all available personel in circumstances when the operator was unable to make a specific request. The other, the one that Six-A had depressed, called for an immediate evacuation of the building.
      The screamers ceased, the WDD hall was silent again. Six-A waited, engulfed in that quiet and tried to sink into the wall, knowing the worst was coming.

      Howard sat pale and still inside the elevator, denying all he heard. The world was going to hell faster than he could keep track. He saw the emergency evacuation button flashing on his radio but only regarded it numbly, despite the fact that the little glowing button hadn't been set off in thirteen years, not since Meteor had pummelled the Shinra building and killed countless. There was no where for him to go, nothing to do but sit in the elevator, alone with his failure.
      "Where are ya" he heard Six-A shout suddenly from the radio, his voice thick with crackling static, "You've killed them, now come for me. I don't know why you're bothering with all of this. My boss, Cloud Strife, well, he and his pals kicked your sorry ass years ago, they did. And Cloud's in as good a shape as ever. Better even. And Reno and Rude and all of Shinra are behind him and the rest. This is all futile, you're just going to die. Again."
      There was a short cry and Howard winced as he heard a heavy fist slamming into something soft.
      "That all ya got? Ha!" Six-A's voice was cocky, taunting.
      There was another blow, so loud Howard felt it in the back of his teeth. Torn and guilty, he looked down at the featureless radio in his hands, his knuckles white, they clutched it so hard. He should have been there, he should have known precedure and been there to help, or been there to die with the rest as was proper.
      "You go ahead an' try yer takeover. . . "Six-A murmered, his words dulled by the blood he had to garble through and the static of the radio, "Cloud's been lookin' bored. Give 'im. . . give 'im somethin' t'do. Ha. Ha, ha ha. . ."
      There was a loud snapping sound, the same that Howard had been hearing and wondering at. He didn't know what it was, he only knew that after he'd heard it the other times, the screaming had ceased. It was no different now. Six-A's laughs died away sharply and there was a thump as his body dropped to the floor. Afterwards, silence reigned and Howard felt utterly alone.

      The immediate human threat disposed of, Jenova surveyed her work. Killing was so easy. She was good at it, as a disease, it was what she'd been created to do. She only wished she still possessed her body so that she could physically feel her victims' bones snapping in her claws, could revel in the warm sticky red as it flowed over her arms. Jenova had made many things bleed in her existance, had sampled much of the stuff of life. But she decided she enjoyed human blood the best of all. She thought it was a beautiful color and pleasing to her fine senses. It felt good against her skin.
      The creature was in the WDD hallway but then, she wasn't. The cells remaining of her body had been secreted far away where they'd be safe from those wishing her destroyed. Using those disembodied cells combined with the cells in the bodies of her "children", she was able to emit her essence and her power into a nearly tangible entity, but she could only stray so far from those last few anchoring cells. Yet that entity was strong, as she'd just proven to herself with the murders of the guards. With the combined cellular auras of Cloud, Vincent, Hojo, and Chieko, her family together at last, Jenova fancied she was nearly as strong now as she'd been thirteen years before. She'd waited a long time for her vessels to meet in such a way, for the miniature "reunion" to occur. And it was here at last. And she was giddy.
      Throwing off her self-applause, Jenova's disembodied presence drifted about the hallway, hovering momentarily over each fresh corpse. All were gone. She'd taken them all and felt suddenly proud of the fact. But still, there was more to do. So much more. Satisfied that Chieko and Hojo had things under control in the labs, she began to reach her telekinesis-like powers outwards, her plan firm and solid in her mind. She came across the Shinra building's main kiosk of elevators. With barely a thought, she severed each thick cord. The cars plummetted to the ground floor and practically disintegrated with the force, breaking into oblivion upon impact. But there were employee elevators too. She stretched her awareness out towards them, dizzy with her own power, and sensed a single human cowering in one of the cars. She listened for a moment to his heart beating. Faster and faster as his terror grew. Just for kicks, just to feel his fear and be satisfied by it, Jenova severed the elevator cords slowly, making the thing rock back and forth, back and forth, until the man inside was fairly sobbing. Then, with a flick of her consciousness, the cords frayed completely and came apart.

      Howard heard them snap and knew in that instant that he'd never be stuck with the graveyard lobby shift again. As the car dropped, the radio flew from his hands and he watched it slam against the elevator ceiling, the bits of wires and the plastic that made up its body spraying everywhere. His stomach reeled. His mind went blissfully blank. The world sank away above his eyes.

      Jenova heard the elevator crash and felt satisfied. That taken care of, she prepared to spend the last bit of strength remaining to her. She had to keep her children safe inside their little home. She had to keep the rest of the world at bay. With detached interest, she heard Hojo's voice in the labs behind her and then a man's cry, one filled with every horror, every fear, every grief that'd ever flown from Pandora's Box. In response there were the piercing screams of two terrified children which quickly faded away into the night, sliding into a silence that gratified Jenova like nothing else could. Dark evil swirling in her primitive mind, she remembered Sephiroth suddenly. Her poor dead son, her own murdered child. . . how he'd hated her. Jenova smiled to herself. She'd make her new puppets hate her all the more. Hate was strong. Hate lasted.
      She had high hopes for them all.

      CJ didn't know what else to do. He was falling. He'd had dreams like this, nightmares more like, but then wasn't he supposed to wake up right about here? The wind tearing at his thin clothes, stinging his face, his stomach in his throat and that tingly, terrible sensation of knowing you were in a freefall that couldn't last forever? Every sense was either assaulting him or bailing on him. He couldn't see anything, not a single thing, he only heard his own panicked screams loud in his ear and Ifalna's high pitched voice not far away. He wanted to breath but there wasn't any air, even though there was so much rushing past him. Where was the ground, where was--
      After a time, he opened his eyes, noticing something strange. He wasn't falling as hard as he'd been. In fact, it was more like he was drifting now. He closed his eyes again, terrified. The cold november air encompassed his small body, and he'd unconsciously curled into a little ball, his chin in his knees. Too scared to look, not certain what was going on, he suddenly heard Ifalna's timid tone close to his ear.
      "Ceej!"she hissed, a hiccup in her voice gave away she'd been crying. "Ceej, please look!"
      "No, we're gonna hit the ground soon and go splat!" He shook his blonde head, hands curled into fists. He suddenly felt Ifalna's insistant little elbow hitting him in the arm.
      "Look!"she hissed, whispering though she didn't know why. Steeling his courage, CJ let one eye open just a slit, enough to see the infinite night sky spreading all about them. Nearly fifty feet off, the cold grey side of the Shinra building could be seen standing tall and impassive. The boy could see right into one of the lower floor windows and stared at a little motivational office sign stuck up on one of the walls inside. "I'll sleep when I'm dead, "it read, but he didn't get it.
      "Why. . . "he began, both eyes open now and staring around, "Why aren't we falling? Or actually, why aren't we street pizza?"
      Ifalna was right by his side and he examined her. Normal as you please, she was bobbing there in thin air, the breeze blowing her dirty pink pajamas, and twin rows of tears winding down her grimy cheeks. She shrugged.
      "It stopped us."
      "It?"
      She casually gestured to the writhing mass of green vapors congregated beneath her back and side. With a sickening sort of feeling, CJ saw they were around him too. Curling, snake-like tendrils of bright glowing green. LifeStream.
      "It's the green thing. That took us. It's saving us now."
      "Yeah. I wonder why. . . "
      "Maybe it felt bad."
      "I doubt it. Hey! It grabbed my butt!"
      CJ looked down at the vaporous green and saw that some of it sort of resembled hands. He figured the stuff had to keep a hold of him somehow but too far was too far.
      "You just watch it there, cheeky, "he warned. "Now, if you don't mind, could you take us back up there to get my dad and Vincent? That dude with the freaky arms didn't look very friendly. Hey! No, we wanna go up, dumb green stuff!"
      Despite his protests, the LifeStream was slowly carrying them away from the buildining, down closer to Midgar so that soon they were skimming just over the rooves of the city. Scowling, CJ cursed the stuff and then tried to shift to a more comfortable position upon it. It felt decidedly awkward floating along, hovering in midair with absolutely nothing supporting his body. This green mist doesn't count as something, does it? he wondered, feeling slightly unhinged, How real can it be? Ifalna sat comfortably beside him, enjoying the little flight, staring quite calmly at the dirty city scenery as they drifted by.
      "Where d'ya think we're going?" she asked.
      "This thing took us from home so it knows where we live. Or maybe it's only saved us so it can take us back to its cave and eat us, I dunno."
      I don't think so, "the little girl said sleepily, yawning and gaping wide. She'd recovered from the ordeal of being flung out of the sixty-eighth floor of a building quite well.
      The mysterious green carried them miles away from the Shinra building, traveling the way at a snail's pace and after a while, even CJ began to get tired. If it wasn't for the numbing cold biting at his flesh, he probably would have fallen right asleep and tumbled to the ground below. He was beginning to think that wasn't such a bad idea. It would get him away from this crazy green stuff who was taking them who knew where. Soon with a sudden start however, he decided against bailing, realizing they were in Sector One, the upper class buildings and stores that he'd known all his life stretching away on either side. After a few more minutes, they were only a couple blocks from his house and without warning, began to rapidly descend.
      "Aww. . . "sighed Ifalna when they were able to touch their toes to the cold cement of the sidewalk. She hopped down and the LifeStream slid away from under her. "That was fun."
      "You're nuts, "CJ said, jumping gingerly from the glow. They were in the alleyway between the drugstore and their neighbor's house. The space was dark and dripping and the children thought it smelled like wet diapers. The two of them stood gazing up at the thing that had saved their lives and CJ realized it looked like a bunch of people sort of, all grouped together. It hovered there in the air, almost like it was looking back down at them and the boy couldn't help but smile and throw it a two-fingered salute.
      "Thanks, "he said. One of the figures came forward suddenly, its outline growing fainter as it left the company of its other LifeStream companions. The childrens' eyes opened wide, watching as this woman-like spirit moved towards them, and then they squinted to make out her features. She was smiling softly. Her hair fell over her eyes, which were the brightest part of her, glowing green touched with blue. She bent down and without warning gave CJ a kiss on the forehead, like a protective older sister, then did the same to Ifalna. They touched the spot after she pulled away, melding back with the rest of the LifeStream. The gently glowing green began to move away, back up into the air and soon it was out of sight, leaving the boy and girl to gaze up after it.
      "She smelled like flowers, "Ifalna said, rubbing her cheek where the woman had kissed her.
      "Yeah. . . " CJ hadn't blinked yet and he did so suddenly, shaking his head and turning down to the ground as though waking from a dream, "She looked like that one lady. . . from that old picture mom and dad have of them and Vincent and those others from the Meteor days. Weird. I guess it wasn't the mako monster afterall."
      "Nah, "Ifalna said, squinting up at the sky, "I think they were dad's friends. I think they owed him a favor."

      "You're kidding me, right?"
      "Nah, I swear to Shiva, it's true. Rude'll tell ya, right, big man?"
      Rude looked up upon hearing his name, a fat brown beer bottle in his right hand. He took a silent swig of it then shrugged, arching his eyebrows above his shades.
      "See, Berkie? I wouldn't lie to ya. I just think you should be in the know, with the facts, ya see?" Reno winked at the young Turk before taking a gulp from his own bottle of beer, belching messily after swallowing. Berk sighed, depressingly sober. He'd been with Reno and Rude for hours, hopping from bar to bar and helping them try to break their record of how many places they could get kicked out of in one night. So far, the odds were promising. They'd gone through three different Sectors and seven different taverns, his two superiors falling deeper and deeper into drink as the wet night hours ticked by. But Berk couldn't participate, he could only watch, being a scant twenty years old and looking like he was seventeen. He had trouble even buying cigarettes without being hassled.
      "I don't know, Mr. Reno, I'm just having a hard time believing it. To think that Rufus Shinra wasn't really a man but rather a hollow, remote-controlled robot commanded by rabid squirrels from the Northern Continent and only wanted to control the world in order to have the space to grow a giant mutated tree so that he could live in it with a lot of female squirrels in a harem. . . well, it's a strange truth." Berk scratched his nose. Reno nearly laughed but reigned it in, thinking he was pulling off a grand joke on the kid, that as Berk's superior the guy would believe whatever he told him. Berk figured he'd probably think that too if he'd downed as much liquor as Reno had. Grinning wide, the red-haired man nodded a little unevenly and winked.
      "Most truths are stranger than fiction, Berk m'lad." Unable to stand it any longer, he burst out laughing, the chuckles pouring messily over his lips. "Aw, man! I'm just playing with you, kid! Heh heh, you shoulda seen the look on your face! Hee hee. . . squirrel, heh." Reno threw his empty beer bottle away and punched Berk roughly in the arm. The young man smiled weakly, trying to play along.
      "Yeah, you had me going. . . "he said, rubbing his arm and wincing. "How 'bout buying me a beer?"
      "Why you want a beer?"
      "I want to drink it."
      "What for?"
      "'Cause I'm thirsty."
      "There's a water fountain over there."
      "Different kinda thirsty."
      "Ah, I see." Reno smiled lazily and sat back, pulling a hip flask from his belt and proceeding to suck from it. The three of them were sitting in a small park just outside of Wall Market, the noises of the place audible in the distance. The cold night air gushed about them, making the flaps of their sportscoats billow out. Reno and Berk sprawled side by side on a bench while Rude was splayed in the grass with his back to them. Empty bottles and cans littered the nearby ground.
      "So what's it gonna be, Mr. Reno? You gonna buy me a drink?"
      Reno shrugged and replied, "Would you buy braces for a kid with straight teeth?"
      "What?"
      "I said, would you buy--"
      "I heard ya, "Berk said in annoyance, "No, I wouldn't buy the kid braces."
      "Well there ya go. This here, "and Reno held up his hip flask which contained a very potent brand of only slighty diluted whiskey, "This here is for medicinal purposes only. Alcohol is like braces. Only people with crooked smiles need it."
      "Aw, blow me. . . " Berk sat back huffily on the bench, glaring at the night sky. His breath billowed out before him, obscuring his vision. Reno watched the sky too, suddenly beginning to ramble.
      "Ya see, Berkie, unless you're a kid and yer drinking to impress someone, or 'cause you think it's fun, ya drink to change yerself. Change yerself for the better, change yerself for the worse. Maybe ya drink to change your mind or your memories, but you're doing it 'cause ya wanna think different than when yer sober. It's demeaning to see people believing anythin' else about it. I hold liquor in high esteem."
      Rude belched in agreement.
      "Yeah, see? Rude agrees with me. Smart man. He wears sunglasses at two in the morning, but hey, he's a smart man."
      "Why'd you want me to come with you guys if you weren't even gonna let me drink with you?"
      Reno shrugged his narrow shoulders and brushed his red hair from his eyes.
      "You're good for a laugh, Berkie the Turkey. And ya've got a baby face that keeps the assholes at bay."
      "Puh. Thanks a lot."
      Reno punched him again, laying the sharp end of his knuckles into the young man's shoulder.
      "Ow! Would you stop doing that? Christ, you two are obnoxious."
      "Mr. Berk, "said Rude speaking suddenly, "Address your superiors in the proper fashion please."
      "Excuse me, sir." Berk scowled for a moment, imagining the day when he'd take Rude's place as leader of the Turks. He'd do it too, he had the skills. And then he'd antagonize the crap outta the peons just like he'd been taught. Sighing in anticipation, Berk glared at the sky. It was a little overcast and hard to see the stars, but they were there nonetheless. It was nice to see the sky. When he'd been a young kid the only view he'd ever get to enjoy was the underside of a rust-streaked plate and the harsh burning of electric streetlights. He gave the moon a glance now, admiring the way it glowed through the thin scrim of clouds attempting to blot it out. Just off in the distance he could barely make out the Shinra tower. He admired that too. It seemed that Shinra and the moon were both two entities that would fill the skies over Midgar for all time. Berk was a company man and a Shinra compatriot. He'd have it no other way.
      "Think Mr. Strife's still working?" he asked suddenly. Reno glanced up at him as though he'd said a foul word. He'd come out here and gotten toasted specifically so he wouldn't have to think about . . . him. He glared at Berk, rubbing his rough chin in one hand.
      "Are you stupid or something?" he snapped, "Cloud ain't in there working. He's in there pitying himself. Open up yer eyes for once, Berkie. Anyways, don't worry about it. I don't want to talk about it. Just, just. . . let's not talk about it."
      Rude raised an eyebrow towards Berk, shrugging and swigging and Berk blinked in confusion at the small outburst. He just didn't get Reno. As brave as the man was in a fight and as much as the young Turk admired him, sometimes he thought Reno might be the biggest coward he'd ever known. He watched him take another gulp from the hip flask, his long loose red hair obscuring his face, his eyes turned up to the Shinra building.
      "Hey, "he said after awhile, "Does anything look weird up there to you?"
      Rude and Berk both looked to where he was gesturing.
      "No, "they said in unison. Reno scowled and pointed harder as though it would make it more obvious. His finger wavered in the air.
      "There, way up around the top. There's a smudge or something."
      Rude lowered his shades down onto his nose and narrowed his eyes. After a moment he raised them again and shrugged. "Broken window, "he said.
      "Maybe we should go check it out, "Berk chimed in, sitting up a little excitedly. Reno and Rude both guffawed, settling more comfortably in their seats.
      "We're off duty, Berkie, "Reno said, dismissing the dark spot on the building easily, "Turks don't work unless they're getting paid for it. That's lesson number. . . what number we on anyway?"
      Berk sighed and shrugged, sitting back reluctantly.
      "I lost count a couple months ago." Reno and Rude turned away and continued to drown themselves as he continued to scowl, occasionally giving the looming building in the distance a critical glance. He wished the men he served under were a little more dedicated. Berk had a feeling there was something going on up in those towers. And there was nothing he hated more than to miss a fight.

      The quiet white house shimmered in the moonlight. It was a beautiful night in Sector One. The air was cold but it was tinted such a lovely shade of blue that it made everything it touched seem worth that much more. The garbage cans laying by the side of the road, the tv antennas, the stop signs, even the stupid ceramic garden mogs laying in one of the yards, all the trivialities bathed in the turquoise glow and became riches.
      A sudden stray November wind blew through the neighborhood, rattling the dark bulbous shapes of trees and the leaves brushing together sounded like a thousand whispering children. The breeze made a few stray papers turn somersaults down the street, and sent the windchime on the porch of the quiet white house to tinkling merrily, the shards of ceramic and glass it was made of dancing in the gale.
      Tifa heard the faint sounds and sat up suddenly. The blue light washed over the walls of the room she was in, sneaking in through the bare window. Blinking a few times, she admired the way it softened the harshness of the day. It even made CJ's room look tolerable, bouncing off the scattered comic books and model kits and hiding the strewn bubble gum wrappers in pleasing night shadows. She was laying on his bed and guessed she'd fallen asleep. The clock on the nightstand read two-thirty. Sitting up, she heard Cait Sith's power cord buzzing downstairs. Absently, she fingered CJ's blue comforter, then picked up and put down a stuffed chocobo, looking at it without really seeing it. There was a small tooth clutched in her left hand. She'd found it on the floor and for some reason hadn't felt like throwing it away or setting it on the dresser. She just held it.
      Sighing shakily, she rose from the bed and laid her bare feet on the carpet. It was colored blue with the light too. Leaving it behind, she exitted the bedroom and stepped into the dimly lit yellow hallway, striding wearily but briskly to her own room. She stepped in quietly, thinking that Cloud might be sleeping inside, that maybe he'd come home while she'd been in CJ's room. But their bed was empty and the sheets were cold. His boots weren't in their customary spot by the doorway, and his holster wasn't draped over the chair. Except for Cait, she was alone in the house. Painfully alone. Overcome by the unfairness of it, she sank down onto the bed, the tears coming fast.
      Before retreating into CJ's room, Barret had called her, his voice concerned and gruff over the line. He'd insisted that Jenova was back around, killing people and stirring up trouble again. Tifa had laughed in his face. Not one to like being sneered at, Barret had gone off on her, trying to get her to bleed guilt. She'd bled anger instead. Anger and frustration. And abrubtly hung up on him.
      Now she cried for a long time. She cried because her husband had abandoned her, because her children were gone, and because she didn't have a friend in the world that cared enough to stick around. She'd been unable to believe Barret had left so quickly that morning. That was why she hadn't let him get hardly a word in on the phone. He hadn't come to see her, he'd come instead to unload his guilt and apologize to Cloud. She knew this now. Some friend. Even though it'd been years since they'd spoken, having given up the attempt to keep in contact through letters and the phone, Tifa still thought that she deserved better from a man who'd once claimed to be her best friend. It made her feel sick inside, strangly betrayed and abandoned. Barret aside though, where was Cid? He'd called her a few days before and said he'd come with Shera, but he never had. Reeve had promised to call her too, but the Shinra president had either forgotten or thought better of it. Tifa bit her lower lip, curling her knees up to her chin and laying down on her side on the bed. No one else cared enough to call. Even the neighbors, the novelty of the kidnapping gone, had stopped coming over and began to avoid her. She shook her head silently, brows lowered at their indifference. Then she shut her eyes, trying to stop her crying and take deep breaths. She could handle all of that, she really could. The rest of the world could go get fucked and she wouldn't care as long as Cloud was there to hold her. But he wasn't. He wasn't by her side to reassure her in his strong, quiet way. He wasn't there to cut apart their enemies and throw them in the trash. He wasn't there, not even when he'd been in the house, sitting in the armory, awash in feelings that should have made them seek eachother out but had instead wedged a wall between them. She was there in all her grief, but his spirit had been stolen right along with his children. The Cloud she'd been living with the past week was only a mannekin, a talking robot. And even that semi-comforting apparition had fled now and there was only her, rotting in the large, echoing house. The rooms were too empty. Her steps were too loud and reverberating as she walked the floors. Each echo jabbed her in the heart and prodded a dagger into her sanity.
      As she lay there shaking, her tears dampening the sheets, the bedroom pressed close around her body. The black, thick atmosphere nudged at her skin until she opened her eyes and acknowledged it. Through cold tears, she saw the blue light of the night as it streamed from the windows, mixing with the dark shadows and obscuring reality. Numbly, she sat up, scooting back and sitting against the headboard, observing the play of night. It was comforting. She allowed the blue to seep into her eyes, the night lighting yet darkening her mind and making thoughts more bearable, obscuring the ideas in her head with its blue light just as efficiently as it did the furniture in her bedroom. As the sorrow throbbed away to a more manageable hurt, her eyes dried and her breathing slowed. She was grateful to the night, she truly was. If she had no one else, the night blue would be her confidante.
      She was on the verge of warm unconsciousness when she heard the knocking. Sleepily she opened her eyes, wondering who it could be at such an ungodly hour. Maybe Cloud had lost his keys. She stood from the bed, and padded from the room and down the stairs, tucking her long, loose hair behind her ears. The house stretched about her quietly and the knocking came again, bouncing off the walls. Tifa noticed how timid it sounded and then her keen ears picked up that the fist striking the front door was doing so at about waist level. She had a sudden notion in the back of her head. A voice shouted out the possibility but she shoved it away, disgusted by the cruelty of her own mind. She'd had many dreams that week of her babies coming home. She'd awoken from one the other night and dashed to their bedrooms, convinced they'd be there sleeping softly. She'd be in the kitchen and think she saw a small blonde head in the corner of her vision, or the sparkle of a mischeivious violet eye. But it always turned out to be her imagination. Even now, she thought she heard a child's voice on the other side of the door, but that was ludicrous, she scolded. Children do not wander the street at two-thirty in the morning. They should be at home tucked in bed. Even after she'd finally wrenched open the front door and confronted CJ and Ifalna, the two children staring up at their mother meekly, she had a hard time believing it wasn't just another of her mind's wicked ploys.
      They ran and clutched at her, the little girl starting to cry all over again and for just the smallest part of a second, Tifa merely stood there, gaping. But then she was hugging them with all the tender ferociousness of a mother. The quiet white house behind them seemed suddenly full again as the three fell backwards into it, laughing and crying.

      It all comes down to a simple truth, Cloud. Parents are meant to give their children life, not take it away from them. But you must have missed this lesson somewhere along the line. Knowing it now, does it make all that much difference? Does it really matter? What could you have done? Nothing. It was your past that put out those two lights in your life. And you lived that past, you were the sole player in every deed you performed, every person you slaughtered in the name of the Planet and in the name of humanity. These last two deaths. . . in whose name were they killed for? Was it still the Planet? It must have been, it is for she whom you've always battled for. So, my love, if you must taste revenge, hunger for the Planet's life, for the lives of those wretches scrabbling about on the face of this rock. The blood of your children is on their hands.
      "Leave me alone."
      Perhaps that is wise. I'll let you talk to yourself. Perhaps then you'll see why it hurts so much. And why you just don't need to think anymore.

      The pulsing orb of the morning sun burned its way through the mist, blazing an impossible coral-colored orange that made Midgar into an even more surreal place with the light. A thin, swirling mist wafted through the city's streets, obscuring walkers' calves and smudging away the trunks of trees. The sun was doing its best to dispel the stuff, but it was tenacious and clung to the cement, though it was already nearing ten in the morning. The night didn't seem to want to die just yet.
      Cid stood leaning heavily upon Venus Gospel, a thin white cigarette hanging from his lip. Sucking sharply, he then added to the lingering mist with a bit of good, clean tobacco smoke. Scratching at his hairline, he sighed, at a loss.
      He didn't know whether things were going for the better or for the worse. He, Barret, Red, and Bugah had arrived a few short hours ago and gone immediately to see Tifa, hoping to find a place to bunk. What they hadn't even bothered to hope to find there had been CJ and Ifalna. The boy had opened the door on them suspiciously, dark circles around his eyes, bruises on his neck, and bandages on his hands, but looking otherwise freshly scrubbed and very aggravated. Ifalna had been off playing with Cait Sith, looking worlds better than her brother, without a scratch on her. There was only something pensive in her soft violet eyes, something sober and older that hadn't been there before. Cid had then noticed the look in CJ too. It appeared when asked about his parents.
      "Mum's in the shower, "he'd said, eyeing the ground. The group had looked at him curiously, waiting for him to finish. He hadn't though. He'd turned away and switched the tv on, flipping channels randomly.
      "What about yer dad?"
      The boy had mumbled something about the Shinra building then plopped on the couch, absorbed in saturday morning cartoons. He'd probably missed the tv more than anything else during his week in the cage. Cid had assumed he'd meant Cloud was at work with his answer. When questioned further he only shrugged, not comfortable talking about it. But then Tifa had emerged from the bathroom eventually, scraping a towel at her long, dripping hair. She'd looked to her friends cooly, mirth and release in her features, but strain too. And she'd told them where her children had been. Where Vincent had been. Where he and Cloud still were.
      There'd been a lot of gaps in the tale, all she'd known was what her children had told her, but she knew enough to make Cid and Barret's hearts sink in their chests. Bugah and Nanaki had only nodded, their suspicions confirmed. Jenova was back and out for blood.
      Is she ever out for blood, Cid thought now, shaking his head as he gazed upon the sixteen black-bagged bodies lining the sidewalk outside the looming Shinra building. The scene was chaos. On a saturday morning, the streets around the headquarters were usually dead. Only the occasional straggling businessman or soldier. Today they buzzed. A row of ambulances sat parked to Cid's right. They were dealing with the corpses they'd found thrown from the gaping hole in the sixty-eighth floor wall, their spines snapped in two, their lungs pierced by claws that had left no mark on the skin. Two had been stripped nearly clean of flesh by animal jaws. Probably that "Cheeko" thing that Ifalna had gone on about, Cid said to himself, puffing away and gazing apathetically at the body bags.
      There was a crowd gathered about them. Passer-bys and curiosity-seekers. Shinra MP too, trying to reign in some of the insanity and keep the press away. The airship pilot saw the Midgar media milling around, snapping pictures, talking to EMS. A few had recognized him and come over, asking what his part was. He'd shooed them off with a jab of his pike. He despised the damned press.
      "Cid, can I have another piece of licorice?"
      "Sure." He reached into the pocket of his flight jacket and pulled a long red stick of candy out for Ifalna. The girl and her brother were seated on the curb, watching their mom and the others trying to glean information from the MP across the street. Tifa had insisted on coming with them but had insisted even more forcefully that the kids come too. She didn't trust Cait to keep them safe. She didn't seem to be trusting anyone anymore.
      Which was fine with Cid. He certainly didn't mind leaning casually against the brick wall across from the Shinra building and babysitting, letting the others do the snoop work. He knew the secret to dealing with kids. Candy. Lots of it.
      "So, Ceej, "he said affably, addressing the spiky-headed kid on the curb. The boy didn't look up. "What happened to yer paws there? Why are they wrapped up?"
      "Got burned. Chieko was covered in acid when she was holding me. I had to try to hang on, ya know?"
      "Yup. You said yer dad killed her?"
      "I thought he said he did. But she came back. Or something. She looked real weird when she did. Before she'd just looked kinda like Nanaki. Then she looked real big, like, like, like what, Eef?"
      Ifalna shrugged, sucking her licorice. "Snakey, "she said, looking across the street at the confused massing of people. Cid and CJ followed her gaze and saw Tifa approaching, flanked by the others. She didn't look happy, though she flashed a grin at her kids.
      "The stiffs are, er. . . were security guards, "she explained, looking at Cid strangely. The pilot was confused at the expression in her eyes until he suddenly remembered who Cloud worked for. She'd probably known a few of those Shinra corpses on the ground. He shook his head as she continued, voice tight with control, "One of the MPs is a pal of Cloud's. He told me that the twelve men composed something called second-class backup. The other four were guards on level six. The medics examined 'em earlier, said they'd all been killed upstairs and were already dead when tossed from the window. I suppose that's somewhat of a comfort."
      "A sick, sad sorta comfort, "snapped Barret, his thick arms crossed huffily. Tifa shot him a look and continued with her report. She said it all aloud more to set things straight in her own mind than to fill Cid in.
      "The MPs did a quick sweep of the debris that fell when that hole up there was made. The steel walls that were broken through are an impossibility, they said. They'd stood through Meteor yet something attacked them last night as though they were rice paper. Pleasant, eh?"
      "Hey, it'll be a challenge, "Cid said cheerily, "Have they heard from Cloud or Vinny?"
      "No. No one has. MP haven't ventured above the fiftieth floor. They went through this morning, not long after the first reports came through of the disturbances, looked about for casualties. They found a few cowering employees, the rest of the guards, that's all. Reeve's supposed to be here any minute. They're waiting on him to move. No one can seem to get a hold of Reno. Security's in an uproar with both its leaders gone."
      "I can tell." The MPs were running around chittering like squirrels, snapping orders at eachother and getting into arguments. Cid was surprised they'd managed to discover anything on their own. "So what do you want to do?"
      "Why are you asking me?" Tifa questioned, eyes narrowing slightly, "Am I in charge?"
      "Someone has to be."
      "We haven't done this in a while, "Nanaki said suddenly, speaking for the first time, "Worked in this team situation I mean. Perhaps we should go with what we knew then. The last time Cloud was out of commission, Cid led and did an excellent job ot it. . . "
      "Aw, shucks."
      ". . . so why don't we put him in charge now. If you don't feel comfortable leading that is, Tifa."
      "I honestly don't care."
      "Well then there you go."
      Nanaki shrugged in a cattish way. He'd been nervous when they'd first arrived that morning, Bugah's critical gaze on his every word and action. But they'd since left the Elder at Marlene's apartment and the beast felt he could relax a bit more now, chip in advice when he felt it was valid. Cid took a last puff from his cigarette, then stamped it cold beneath his shoe.
      "I'll lead, fine. But you all know my orders are simple. You want plans? You think of them yourself. What I'm proposing now is we haul ourselves upstairs there, find Cloud and Vinny, bust heads, smash Jenova and that other fellow CJ was talking about, then scram. Then we all go to Gold Saucer for a victory party. Ooh, then all those of legal age get shit-faced. Damn, that's a good plan. No wonder you want me to lead." Cid looked to Tifa, expecting a laugh, but the woman had turned away to gaze behind at the looming towers. The swirling mist, remnants of the night before, concealed some of the structure's outline, giving it a soft, macabre look. The speck of a gap in the wall far overhead glared down on the people at its base. Tifa imagined some bitch of a monster flinging her kids from such a height and her gloved fists clenched involuntarily.
      "Earth to Tifa!" Barret said suddenly and she snapped her attention around, "Stop glarin' at that building. We're gonna get Cloud. Just be patient. Kids said botha them were up there last they saw and that's where we'll find em."
      The woman didn't answer. There was more to all this, she knew. Somehow, pieced together from the tale CJ had told her and from the unease bubbling in her breast, Tifa knew there was more. Nanaki had said that Jenova had resurfaced, but still, there was more than that. More than the reappearance of a disease, more than the disappearance of two men, more than a few monsters. Cloud was up there, Vincent was up there and from what she'd heard, hell was up there. How in the world could she and her companions free them from hell? She supposed they'd have to wrestle the devil.
      "I want this to end. . . "she said to no one imparticular, her eyes ripping into the building. "Why? Why do people have to be hounded like this? All our lives, over and over we run this god damned tread mill, mile after mile, either fleeing from one thing or chasing another. It's a circle that never ends, but loops back on itself infinitely. Who's forcing us onwards, huh? I wish I knew why we have to keep running. Why we, and Cloud, and Vincent, and every other miserable bastard who's ever breathed a breath, why we all must keep fighting foes that never seem to die. . . " She dropped a tear unconsciously, but then caught it in her fist, squeezing it away to nothing.
      "You're tired, Tifa, "Nanaki said, looking at her with a mixture of pity and respect from his one eye, "You have to be careful when you're tired and you try to reason. Especially when you try to make sense of things like this."
      "Yeah. . . I guess I am tired." Her voice sounded far-away.
      "To hell with this, "she spat without warning and began stalking off towards the Shinra building's shattered glass doors, "I'm gonna go up there. Cloud and Vincent deserve better than this."
      "Hey, I thought I was leading. . . "Cid protested. He would have chased after her but was saved the trouble. The woman's weary attention was grabbed by the imperialistic honking of a jet black caddy suddenly pulling onto the scene. The honking of its horn cleared a path through the rabble of spectators and media, plowing through them like parted blades of grass and coming to a smooth halt just besides Barret, who glared darkly towards the vehicle's black-tinted, bullet-proof windows.
      "Someone likes ta make an entrance, "he muttered. And President Reeve enjoyed doing just that. Especially with so many paparazzi out. The caddy door swung open silently and he stepped out into the morning sun, surveying the bodies and wreckage around him with sober eyes. For a few moments, he only stood silently staring, until some young, skinny assistant approached him and whispered something in his ear. Reeve nodded absently and the man shot off.
      "How ya doing, cat man?" Cid asked, approaching the president suddenly and slapping him on the back, "Looks like you've had a bit of a ruckus here. Hope you're insured."
      Reeve woke up from his momentary shock and stared at the old gang gathered around him, his eyes coming to rest on Tifa's shaking form a few feet off. He sighed, then cleared his throat.
      "They only just called me. God forbid the president of the damned corporation should be anyone but the last to know when headquarters is breached and sixteen men killed. How are you guys doing?"
      "We been better, "Barret scowled, hating the entire situation. It seemed that Shinra was screwing everything up again. He glared darkly towards Reeve who avoided his gaze.
      "Do you know the details, Reeve?" Nanaki asked, stepping forward. The president began to nod but stopped.
      "I thought I did, but from the look in your eye, Red, I probably don't."
      "Jenova, "spat Tifa, not looking their way, "She's back. Or she never left. She's got Cloud and Vincent up there. And she tried to kill my kids."
      Reeve paled, glancing towards CJ and Ifalna, seeing them for the first time. "Hey!" he hollared, walking up to them, "Hey! Guys! I'll be damned. . . where'd you come from?"
      CJ grinned at his dad's boss, a man who gave very large amounts of cash for birthday presents. "Up there, "he said and pointed towards the tower, "We didn't know it but we were up there. With Vincent and a lotta creeps."
      Reeve gave them both a big bear hug, taking in the sight of their faces joyously. But then that joy faded as Tifa's words sunk in. "Hojo's old experiment is back, eh? Well, this is a crappy way to start off the weekend."
      "Don't take it so light!" Barret growled, quickly losing his patience and his temper. "I bet her being back is somehow y'all's fault, ain't it? That WDD thing's been screwing with Hojo's old labs. Marlene told me about it."
      Reeve turned from the kids to face the group. Shaking his head and trying to keep his composure, he replied, "You know that's not true. Every tech is carefully screened and all projects monitored by the mako board. Besides, I thought Jenova was dead. Science is a wonderful thing, but can it resurrect an alien that's been dead for thirteen years? Think before you speak, Barret. If speaking's what you call that thing you do."
      "'Lright, bitch, lessee you defend yer blessed company with a pound of lead in yer gut--!"
      Barret stepped forward to follow up the threat with a punch to the president's jaw but Cid stepped between them, teeth flashing in anger.
      "Let's break this up before it starts!" he roared, "I'll shiskybob both your asses if you don't cool down! There ain't nothing to argue about. Shinra couldn't of done this, Barret, think about it! This is just a busload of bad karma and that's that. We need to stop moping around and get inta action."
      "Only action I want is to introduce my fist to his pretty jaw, "Barret growled, brandishing his bulging knuckles. "You forget what he is, Cid? A spy. A traitor and a thief. Now he heads the biggest passel of traitors and thieves on the Planet. They're just repeating what they did years ago and dragging us all into their shi--"
      "Shut up, Barret."
      Everyone's head snapped around to Tifa as she spat these words. Barret was too shocked to say anything, especially after she followed them up. "Shut up and stop talking about things you don't know anything about. You haven't been here to see all that Reeve and Shinra's done. You want to live in the past then fine. But don't expect the rest of us to stay behind with you and listen when you preach your sermons against progress. Don't judge Reeve. You don't know him or the man he always was behind that robot."
      Reeve was just as surprised as Barret. He'd never thought Tifa cared enough for him to ever defend him. Wow. He wasn't sure whether to blush or run away.
      "God, Tifa, I--"
      "You just hush up too, Reeve. Don't insult Barret, he can't help the way he talks anymore than you can help that pussy-footed attitude of yours."
      "Woah! low blow, Tifa, "whistled Cid appreciatively. "Why don't you tell him what you really think?"
      Tifa spun towards the pilot, brows lowered over her dark, teary eyes. "Don't make me start on you, Cid Highwind. If you try to lighten the mood anymore I swear I'll tear you down."
      "Why don't you go ahead?" Cid asked, the smile on his face never breaking for an instant, "May as well go whole hog. Take your anger out on every one of your friends. Go ahead, put me down if it makes the aching in your heart a little easier. Why don't you tell me I'm an asshole? Tell Red his dad's headress is too big on him and flopping his ears over like a li'l bunny rabbit--"
      "Hey!"
      "Or why don't you start acting like an adult and handle your emotions maturely? That's hardest, ain't it?" The pilot looked towards his friend with a strange expression in his eyes, though the smile never left his lips. Tifa met the gaze for a moment defiantly, then broke under it, staring at the pavement.
      "Sorry, "she grumbled, then waltzed off and sat on the curb beside Ifalna.
      "'Pology accepted, "Cid said easily, "Now Reeve, what are we gonna do about all this?"
      The Shinra president snapped out of the stupor the conversation had put him in, looking towards Cid in befuddlement. "What? Oh. Dammit, I don't know. Wait here, alright?"
      Shaking his head, Reeve tramped off across the street towards the MP, who immediately saluted at his approach. He waved a hands towards them and they returned to work, their commander stepping forward. Cid watched from afar as the two conversed. He wanted to know what was going on direct from the source. He didn't want to have to hear the details filtered back to him through Reeve's well-meaning yap. He turned to the team and said, "C'mon, let's go over there and see what's . . . "
      But Tifa was already on her feet and halfway across the street.
      "Damn. . . I thought I was leadin'?" He sighed and looked to Barret. "Babysit, "he ordered, then he and Nanaki sprang after her before Barret could protest. The hulking man frowned, watching them leave helplessly. He turned slowly around to see CJ and Ifalna staring up at him in suspicion.
      "Who are you?" the little girl asked.
      "I seen you in pictures my dad has, "CJ began, resting his chin on one bandaged hand, "But I ain't ever met you before. Your name's Mr. Wallace, right?"
      "You can call me Barret, kid."
      "You mean like girls put in their hair? Eww. . . "
      "No! That's barrette! My name's Barret, say it right!"
      "Sounds the same, "Ifalna remarked, staring at him lazily.
      "Well, it ain't. There's three thousand times difference between 'em. Huh. Ifalna. Don't make me get started on you."
      The little girl jutted her chin out and squinted her eyes huffily. "Ifalna's a pretty name, "she insisted. "Better than Barrette."
      Barret was about to snap back some reply when he realized that he hadn't sunk so low as to argue with a five year old. "Cocky and stubborn, jus' like yer dad, "he remarked, looking the kids over. He'd never seen them before, not really. Tifa had sent him pictures years ago but that was all. He saw them now and distractedly thought they were likely looking enough in a Cloud Strife kind of way. He turned his head away and glared at the back of Cid's head as he stood and listened while Reeve and the MP commander conversed. He swore the pilot had done this to him on purpose. He couldn't stand Cloud, much less his kids. Cocky kids at that.
      "You guys gonna go up there with my mom?" CJ asked suddenly.
      "What makes you think she's gonna go up there?"
      "My dad and Vincent need help, "he replied simply. Barret snorted.
      "Help in the head, "he said. "Yeah, she'll go up there. And Cid and Red too."
      "You?"
      "I dunno. Probably. Maybe."
      "Are you a wussy?"
      "What?!" Barret snapped around and glared the little kid down, "You better watch your mouth, blondie, or I'll throw ya out another window."
      "No, you won't!" Ifalna snapped, her small fists balled up. CJ shoved her shoulder.
      "Don't worry about him, Eef. He's a wussy. What d'ya expect from a guy with the girly name of a hair clip? Puh."
      "You a little punk, ya know that? You like this when Cid was watchin' ya?"
      Ifalna stuck her tongue out at him, the worst insult a five year old could give. "No, "she replied , "He had licorice. And he's nice. We know him."
      "Yeah, "CJ chimed in, "He's got a cool airship and planes and stuff. And his kids are nice. And he gives really good christmas presents. And he likes guns! Boom!"
      Barret stared down at the kid, unimpressed. He reached a hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled a few small orange capsules out.
      "I got tic tacs, "he said, "And lint. How far does that get me in you punks' "cool book"?" The kids grabbed at them, nearly knocking him over.
      Crunching the candies contentedly, CJ piped, "We'll take you under consideration. Chocolate would help your chances though, Barrette."
      Barret leaned back, crossing his arms and curling his hands into fists to warm his fingers against the cold. "I'm thrilled, "he admitted sarcastically. Blinking slowly, he yawned and gazed towards the Shinra towers, the upper levels still obscured by the seemingly immortal mists. The night just didn't seem to want to die.

      The voice was penetrating, and its arguments undeniable. So he listened.
      What's it feel like? To be a murderer. Again. I'm just curious, you see.
      Yoo hoo, Cloud. . . what's it feel like? Huh?
      Yeah, well. . . I guess I wouldn't talk to me either, if I were you. But hey, that's right. I am you. Heh heh.
      Still seeing 'em, eh? Yeah, they were good looking kids. Good looking kids in a Cloud Strife kinda way. Looked a lot like you. Less like Tifa, but it was still there. So now, with 'em gone, it's like losing yourself and losing a little bit of her too. Think she's still alive? Tifa, that is. Maybe you went and killed her too while you weren't looking.
      Laugh already, damn you, it was a joke. Geez, you have no sense of humor.
      Sigh.
      What d'you think Hojo's up to? That was a shock, eh? Yeah, who'd a thunk it, the old psychopath up here all that time. Then you stumble your way to the old labs after thirteen years. . . almost makes ya believe in predestination, doesn't it? Fated to kill ole Seph in that reactor after he toasted your town, fated to be found by those scientists and tinkered with like a guinea pig. . . but ya fought fate, and that was your mistake, boyo. Ya thought ya could kill Hojo, Sephiroth, Shinra, all that mess and not have to be controlled anymore. Huh. But fate always wins out in the end. Fate's a little bitch, and she's got you cornered now. Holed up. Killed your kids. Fate didn't like you finding happiness. Who told you that? Wasn't it Sephiroth, the samn man who. . . cut your face like that? Oh, I don't remember. Someone said that sometime and it's true. Well, I spose it's a moot point now. Fate's disposed of any happiness you had. Out the window. Bye bye.
      Hmm. What now? Wait it out, I suppose. They musta died quick, dontcha think? Sixty-Eight stories, long way down. Screaming. Screaming all the way. Small little screams dying away, snatched by the chilly air. Cold out last night. Damned cold for november. Maybe we'll get snow soon, you never know. Snow would be nice. Midgar looks good under a blanket of white. Hide the grime, ya know? Think Tifa's found 'em yet? The kids, I mean. If she's not dead herself, I mean. Heh heh. Yeah.
      Man, are you crying again? Geez, I swear you're a baby. I'll bet ya Vince isn't over there crying. He saw 'em fall too. Think he hates you? I mean, it's your fault he's in here, trapped again in the clutches of the worst enemy he's ever had. I mean, c'mon, he's gotta be ready to rip your head off. He could be dead too, ya know. Wouldn't that be something? Don't care, eh? Well, you do both deserve it, you murderers.
      Think CJ's bitter about never being able to grow up? Dead before his eleventh birthday. How much longer did he have? About four months and he would have been eleven. Ifalna though, she only just turned five. A shame. Shame, shame, shame, that's what the papers'll say. Unless they're dead too. The media, I mean. Heh. It would be the funniest thing in the world if everyone were dead now, if you were the only one left living. You maybe, and Hojo and Chieko and Jenova. Wouldn't be all bad for you though, boyo. They are your "family", right? So they say. So she says. You could all live together on this unoccupied rock, stepping over the corpses of your friends, living it up on your own personal planet, with the annoying insects wiped out. Woo, wouldn't that be grand?
      Sixty-eight stories is a high ways up. Musta looked damn scary to those dangling kids. Scarier as it ran up to meet 'em. Them. Them screaming. Screaming all the way down.
      Hearing it still? Seeing them still? Yeah, I would too if I were you. Heh. Wait, I am. . . nevermind. You know.

      "Every elevator is out of order. Cords were severed beyond immediate repair from what the crew saw. There's always the stairs of course but I wouldn't send any men past the fiftieth floor. Not without consulting you first, sir. I do have to warn that the weather service came through on the wire not long ago. There's a hell of a storm system moving this way, so whatever you decide upon needs to be done soon, sir."
      Reeve nodded, rubbing his fingers through his black goatee thoughtfully. The young MP commander, the highest ranking of the security personnel at Shinra besides Reno and Cloud, watched him thinking, hoping he'd decide to let the commander and a few of his best charge into the towers and kick some ass. It was all he could do to hold back his anger and a few sad, frustrated tears. He was remembering the faces of those sixteen guards, each one a friend, each one cut down like an animal.
      "Were there any casualties besides the guards?" Reeve asked, his eyes anxious. The commander shook his head.
      "No, sir. A few shooken employees but that's all."
      "Find anything suspicious? Besides the hole in the building, the bodies, all that. Anything that could help us?" The commander responded in the negative and Reeve sighed, turning and pacing about.
      "This is my fault, "he snapped, wringing his hands together, "I was the last one to talk to Cloud last night. I should have insisted he leave with me. I should have made him go with Reno and Rude. Damn it! Alright, Commander Ikari, we're going to retake the building. Our building. But we're not going to take any chances. I want you to contact Sector Nine in Kalm, then Sector Ten in Junon. Tell Yannig and Nevilleson I want them and their men here asap. That'll give us what, two hundred and fifty soldiers? In addition to the two hundred here in the Midgar camp? That should be sufficient."
      "Four hundred'n fifty men?" Cid asked, breaking into the conversation rudely, "Cloud, Vincent and I are the ones that took Jenova down last time. Just the three of us. You don't need so many soldiers, that's just ludicrous."
      "No!" Reeve snapped, whipping around with a beet-red face, "What's ludicrous is having sixteen guards die because we were totally unprepared for attack!"
      "Reeve, "Nanaki said calmly, "From the wounds on the deceased, there was nothing they could do to fight back. They were literally snapped in half from the inside. It sounds like power beyond that which can be attacked."
      "We can't attack it?" Reeve snarled, "Then how the hell do we stop it? And what makes you think it can't be fought against?"
      "I don't know. It's only my theory."
      "You have a theory?" Cid asked, puffing on a fresh cigarette. He raised one eyebrow questioningly towards the creature. Nanaki would have blushed if he'd been able to.
      "Though most of the party was still on the floor of the Northern Crater battling the monsters Jenova had sent after us and thusly unable to participate in the final battle with her, from what Cloud has told me, you, he and Vincent managed to truly tear her apart down there. If she wasn't killed, her body was surely destroyed, correct?"
      The pilot nodded vigorously. "You should have seen what was left of her. Nothing. It was great, Cloud and I hacked her into horsemeat and Vincent shot spells at her that sent the chunks flying apart. We practically dissected her. Messy."
      "So she was destroyed?"
      "If anyone but you had told me she was alive, I would have called 'em a liar. We slaughtered that bitch. Cloud especially. He fought like he was possessed. Or rather like for once he wasn't possessed, could think clear and easy. Huh."
      "Mm. We don't know a lot about Jenova. We only really know that she was found by Gast and dated at 2000 years old. A "calamity from the sky." A creature from another world."
      "An alien?" Tifa asked.
      "Supposedly. But then, maybe something else too. She seems almost like the antithesis of life. A creature who knows only of bringing death and chaos to those worlds it chooses to inhabit."
      "Yeah, it's evil." Cid shrugged as Nanaki looked at him curiously.
      "Evil is a very convenient word. At least, I've noticed it is such for humans. You label things as evil when you don't understand. Perhaps Jenova is necessary. She is a counterbalance to the Planet. Marlene thinks that everything has an opposite in nature and in life. Perhaps Jenova is the Planet's counter."
      "I thought people were the Planet's counter," Tifa asked.
      "I don't believe so. Humanity and the Planet are too closely related to be opposites. We come from and return to the Planet. If you choose to think so, we are the Planet."
      "Fine, fine, fine, "Cid said, leaning heavily on his pike, "Geez, are you a scientist or a philosopher, Red?"
      "Neither, "contradicted Nanaki, grinning briefly, "I am the guardian of Cosmo Canyon, nothing more."
      "Well, you seem to be taking up some hobbies. What's your point to all this?"
      "Not a particularly pleasant point, I'm afraid. I'm thinking that if Jenova is actually a natural force and not simply some alien bent on devouring Planets. . . well, if she's a natural force, she cannot be destroyed."
      "A natural force?"
      "Yes. Like, like a storm or fire or quake. Forces that are simply part of life and which we cannot truly control."
      "That can't be true, "said Reeve, shaking his head slowly, "Storms, Fire and Quake are mindless powers. Jenova is sentient with free will."
      "So are the Planet and LifeStream. They are Jenova's counters. It really makes quite a bit of sense if you allow yourself to believe it. Everything has an opposite in our world. Everything. But what keeps humanity and the Planet in check? For 2000 years Jenova lay sealed, sealed and trapped by the Cetra who gave their lives to do so. And in those two millenia humanity flourished, uncountered by her, its advance and multiplication unimpeded. This was why, perhaps, only perhaps mind you, the creature felt such a desire to destroy as many as possible upon awakening. As the opposite of life, she thrives upon death, upon the destruction of LifeStream. She wants only to fight against her counter, that's all the creature knows, all it was created for. Blind death. The Planet retaliates in the few ways it can; with the Weapons, with the creatures on her surface, us namely, and at last, when everything else fails, it calls upon the LifeStream to cancel death. It worked thirteen years ago, worked quite well, luckily for us. But of course our loyalties lie with the Planet. We don't want to die, so we fight with her. We are her. And that's why we fight Jenova. To do anything else, to do as Sephiroth or Hojo did and fight with her, you'd have to be insane. Either that, or have lost your love for life and humanity."
      "Damn, Red, some theory. Jenova is a natural force. . . is this what you stay up thinking about at night?" Cid asked, cocking his blonde head and looking upon the fiery beast with curiosity. "Morbid, "he decided, releasing a stream of smoke through his nostrils.
      "If your little theory is correct, we can't actually kill her?" Tifa asked, her gaze cold.
      "It's just an idea that Marlene and I had, "Nanaki replied a little sheepishly, "It came to mind now, is all. The way that she can be alive now without a body. Why she wants Cloud and Vincent. How she can control Cloud. . ."
      "How 'bout filling us in on that, O wise one, "Cid said, frowning. Nanaki looked around him at his friends, wishing Marlene was there to back him up. He sighed cattishly, the flame at the end of his tail flickering through the morning mist and looking like a lantern.
      "At first the Elder and I thought she only wanted Cloud for revenge's sake, to avenge herself and Sephiroth. But I don't believe that anymore. She still wants revenge I think, but. . . she wants it on the entire Planet. On all of us. Jenova needs Cloud and Vincent because they contain her cells. These cells must be indestructible if she's still in existance, yet for her to manifest, they must be unified in some way. She must have some sort of physical presence to inhabit. You all managed to seperate those cells and destroy her body years ago, but--"
      "Hold on, hold on, "Tifa said, grinning a little crazily and holding her two gloved hands up before her. There was something sad and strained in her brown eyes, "You're wrong, Red. My Cloud's a walking puddle of mako, but he doesn't have Jenova in him."
      Nanaki eyed the dirty cement sadly, not wanting to look up and meet the woman's heartbroken expression. Cloud had always denied the facts, been disgusted by the possibility. He'd been controlled years ago because of the Jenova cells in his bloodstream. Sephiroth's control over him hadn't been psychological, hadn't been telekinetic, hadn't been magic. It'd been granted to him by Jenova, whose cells coursed like fire in Cloud's veins. It was a disease he'd been given, a virus contracted over the course of five long years in a lab. And despite his arguments to Tifa since then, she'd known. She realized now she'd known all along. Hugging her arms around herself, the woman nearly sobbed, sure that now, whatever was happening to him, Cloud knew too. And the day was here again when the fact was hurting him.
      With a single glance, Nanaki could see in Tifa's eyes that words were unnecessary. She wouldn't argue the fact that her love was infected with Jenova, the odds were stacked against anything else. Though it hurt her to hear it, she listened to Nanaki continue his lecture.
      "Her every cell, I think, is a link to her essence. The same way that every form of life in existance at this moment is a link to the Planet. Jenova cannot die because these cells cannot die. I believe though, that the weaker the concentration of cells, the weaker is the manifestation of her essence. That just seems like common sense. So perhaps she wants Cloud and Vincent because with the two of them together, the cells infecting their bodies allow her to manifest into an even more powerful form. Or at least, into some form at all. Those years without hearing of her, when we thought she was destroyed, perhaps she was simply too weak to appear. She needed them together."
      "Doesn't make sense, "Tifa said, coming out of her funk, "Cloud and Vincent are together a lot. He comes over almost every winter. Why now?"
      "You've got me there, "Nanaki said, unable to explain, "Perhaps there is another element we just don't know about. Perhaps one of the creatures that CJ told us about is also a vessel of Jenova and its presence along with our friends' creates the cell concentration that she needs."
      "Or perhaps this is just a waste of breath. It's only speculation, Red. And if we believe it, we may as well give ourselves up for dead. Of course Jenova can be killed. She's not some "natural force", she's just some conceited broad from outer space with too much power for her own good."
      "Conceited Broads from Outer Space, "repeated Cid whistfully, "Sounds like that'd make a good movie."
      "You're not helping, Cid."
      "Screw you, Reeve. I'll set Barret on ya."
      Nanaki sighed at the two men, watching them glare at eachother mildly. "Well, what the hell are we gonna do, huh? "Cid asked suddenly, "Do we assume she can't be killed and bug out on Cloud and Vince? Or do we file inside that concrete box and do our damnedest to repeat what we did thirteen years ago in the Northern Crater? Clock's ticking, boys and girls, and I'm too damned old to be standing around, tapping my foot, wasting my time."
      "Just forget what I said, "Nanaki sighed, not meeting the glances of Reeve or his companions, "Like I said, it's just a theory. An obtuse, depressing theory."
      "Well whatever. Sorry, Red, but there's no time for pondering the meaning of Jenova. We know the thing's in there, we know it's dangerous. I'm going to send a bloody army up there to deal with her. That is my headquarters, and she's holding my employee."
      "Save your precious soldiers, Reeve. AVALANCE is here. This is our problem and Cloud and Vincent are our men. We'll take care of it, "Tifa snapped, banging her right fist into her left hand menacingly. Reeve looked at her like she were nuts.
      "I can't let you do that, "he stated, shaking his head slowly, "Not by yourselves. This building and anyone who enters it are my responsibilities, got that? No one else is going to die today. Are you blind, Tifa? Do you see those sixteen body bags over there? Do you see the people milling around them, crying their friggin' eyes out? You see that little black-haired kid, with the red jacket? That's Terry Baligg's son. Terry from the Three-B Squad, second shift. Terry who's laying there cold and stiff with a heart that was crushed to jelly while still ih his chest. He ain't ever going to see his kid again. And that kid's gonna grow up without a dad. You see your own two kids sitting over there? Their father's gone. You want them to lose their mom too?"
      "So what are you saying, Reeve?" Tifa asked, her posture stiff and unyielding, "You want me to forget my husband? I could never forgive myself. And CJ and Ifalna could never respect me. Red, you thought Seto was a coward, running away and leaving your mom. And you despised him for it. But when Bugenhagen told you the truth, that he was a hero, saving the entire canyon. . . well, you were proud, weren't you? Though he was killed in the act, he at least possessed the bravery and will to do what he knew needed to be done. And now you respect him. Right?"
      Nanaki didn't want to agree, but her words were true. He nodded his shaggy head. Tifa smiled grimly. "You see? Don't try to talk me out of it again. We're going in."
      Reeve tried to stare the woman down, but found his own meek gaze blasted to shreads beneath her rusty brown eyes, snapping fire and ire in electric sparks. He backed down, about to admit defeat, when he heard an MP run up to the group, shouting his name.
      "What is it?" he barked, whipping around to face the young man who now stood panting besides him. The fellow looked nervous for a moment, thrown off by the president's attitude, which was usually pretty friendly and easy-going.
      "I'm sorry to interrupt you, sir, "he began, wiping sweat from his eyes, "But we've found a survivor. The missing member of second class backup that we were wondering over."
      "Where at?"
      "At the bottom of the secondary employee elevator shaft, sir. He was buried under a few fallen ceiling boards and we missed him in the first sweep. We heard him moaning though, and . . . "
      The young MP's voice trailed off as he found himself talking to thin air. President Reeve and his friends had run off where he'd indicated. They shoved their way through the throngs of onlookers, pushing the press from their path unceremoniously. Entering the building through the shattered front doors, Reeve saw the extent of the damage inside and paled. There were ugly, vertical cracks running up and down the lobby walls, up through the ceiling and down into the floor. The force of the tremors had cracked the entire building.
      "Oh, shit. . . "he moaned, nearly collapsing as Tifa, Cid, and Nanaki shot him questioning looks, "The foundation's been cracked. Don't you see? This entire building could come crashing down at any second. What am I going to do?"
      "You're just going to deal with it, catman. Don't let it phase you. C'mon." Cid patted his friend on the shoulder, then pushed him back into the lobby where there was a small group of MP and EMS workers huddled inside one of the elevators. Reeve stumbled forward, in a daze. Even Meteor hadn't managed to destroy the majestic Shinra towers. How could they be cracked now? Cracked and broken and split right down the seams. He walked slowly, his feet kicking up the plaster dust and ceiling chunks scattered on the lobby tiles. Absently, he stooped over and righted a potted plant that'd fallen, adjusting the leaves forlornly. Cid looked at him for a moment then sighed and went to check out the guy in the elevator.
      He was a mess. The old pilot looked over the shoulders of the medical staff working on him and saw a face shattered and covered in dried, sticky red. His body was still, though his one arm twitched spasmadically while his eyelids opened and closed in pain. Squinting, Cid saw the name Howard printed on the guard's nametag, and then for some reason, radio tubes and plastic sprinkled on his uniform.
      Tifa tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to see her shake her head. This man just wasn't going to live much longer. They needed to question him now.
      "Reeve, "she said when the president finally approached, "This guard probably knows what happened."
      "Yeah, probably, "the man admitted, not looking at Howard.
      "Well, maybe you should ask him about it before he kicks off?" Cid suggested impatiently. Reeve frowned, a terrible aching beginning in his chest and behind his eyes. He just wasn't ready to deal with this. He knew he was president of the company and all. He knew the fate of the entire Shinra corporation rested on his shoulders but he never thought he'd have to protect his beloved Shinra by having his hands drenched in blood. That's what it felt like; as though he himself had beaten the broken man laying in the elevator. He just couldn't understand why all of those guards, and now this man before him, why they should have to die just because he was a bad president.
      "Howard, "Reeve called, stepping forward and shooing one of the MPs aside so he could kneel down to the bloodied figure. "Tell us what happened."
      Howard looked up at him for a second, eyes unfocased, one side of his face smashed in. Reeve swallowed hard but kept his stare fixed on him. But the guard didn't answer. He turned his gaze away and closed his eyes.
      "It's no use, sir, "one of the EMS workers said, "His neck's broken. Most of the bones in his body smashed from the impact. I don't think he can talk."
      "Like hell he can't."
      The entire group turned around at the sound of the new voice. Reno was approaching, Rude and Berk at his heels. The man's red hair was more frazzled than usual, customary ponytail gone and long strands hanging in his face and down his back. His bloodshot eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses, his suit jacket missing and his shirt untucked and wrinkled as though he'd slept in it. He shoved his way through the group and stood tall over Howard's broken body, his posture wavering slightly.
      "Soldier!" he snapped in a loud, commanding tone. Howard's eyes flicked open fearfully, the pupils hazed in delirium. They searched about for Reno and a tear dropped from one of them when he found him.
      "Sir. . . "
      The single word was garbled and unsure when it rolled from his dry tongue. Reno flinched at the sound but refused to let up.
      "Report, soldier, "he said authoritively. Howard shut his eyes again but began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth like beer bottles tossed out a truck window; spent and shattering upon impact.
      "Six-B dead. . . Jenova killed em. Then we came, but I fucked up, so it was just them. They was up, Six-A leadin', sir. Jenova ain't nothin' but voice. Voice 'n power. She snapped em in two. Couldn't fight, they couldn't see nothin' to fight. So they died. I fucked up, sir, shoulda been up to die with em. They go with honor, up there in the clouds. . . she sent me here, crashing here to rot in hell. No honor, never had honor enough to die like a hero, or at least a martyr. Down here with the plaster and dead radio on me. Get it off! Goddamned dead radio, dead men all over, get it off!"
      Reno's eyes opened wide as the guard began twitching his features about, eyeing the random bits of plastic scattered on his blood-soaked chest as though they were bits of flesh. The red-haired man knelt down and brushed them off his uniform gently but quickly, somehow understanding. He flung the radio tubes and circuit board away, out of the elevator, then looked back at Howard, the guard's eyes open again, focased and clear suddenly.
      "Thank you, sir, "he said in a soft voice. With a small shudder, his features suddenly relaxed and his slow rattling breathing ceased. Reno checked for a pulse on his neck with two fingers, coming away with flecks of blood on their tips. Solemnly he closed the man's two eyes then knelt for a second with his head bowed, hair cascading and covering his features like a drawn curtain.
      "So someone fill me the fuck in, "he said suddenly, his voice slightly gruff but still loud and pissed, "We heard about alla this on the radio but it seems the MP have managed to keep some of the details out of the media's grasp. All I know is that half my security staff is dead and there's a ten foot hole in the side of the building. Did you all throw some huge kegger last night that got outta hand or what? Where the hell's Cloud?"
      Reeve sighed deeply, his arms crossed over his chest with one hand up and rubbing at his brow. "Reno, Cloud and Vincent Valentine are, as far as we know, being held up on the sixty-eighth floor. I'm assuming Cloud somehow figured out the kids were up there last night, went to save them, and then all hell broke loose. What do you think, Tifa?"
      "CJ and Ifalna didn't know anything about it, thusly I don't know anything about it. I haven't seen Cloud since early yesterday morning, myself."
      "I saw him last night, he was cheered up, I thought, "Reno said, rising finally from Howard's still form. He was glad he was wearing his shades and didn't have to look Tifa in the eye. "He said he had some stuff to do, so I didn't bug him too much about coming with us. Besides, he looked tired and I think he'd gotten in a scuffle with someone. He was cut up."
      "Cut up?" Tifa asked, concern in her tone, "Who would he get in a fight with? What idiot would fight Cloud after seeing Ultima Weapon?"
      "An idiot that's probably dead now, I dunno, "Reno said shrugging, "But whoever did it was a nutball. Who'd cut a J into the side of a guy's face?"
      At these words, everyone but Reno and the two Turks froze, faces drained and drawn.
      "A what?" Nanaki asked, tail flickering. Reno eyed the fiery creature with one eyebrow raised. He'd forgotten what a freaky thing it was. It felt weird talking to him like a regular person.
      "A J, "he replied, "Why? What's the buzz, people? You're all looking like there's some real great joke circulating 'round among you. How about filling in poor in-the-dark Reno, eh? What does it mean?"
      Surprisingly, Rude answered, his voice crisp despite his slight hangover.
      "It means Jenova I believe." He looked to TIfa for confirmation and the woman nodded. Rude frowned grimly but continued, "I kept thinking about it last night. Why would anyone cut a J in spike's face? It was like a tag, ya know? Like grafitti. Like punks'll spraypaint on alley walls, so I ran through names that start with the letter. That "thing's" stuck most prominently in my mind."
      "Well damn, why didn't you say anything last night?" Reno asked irritably.
      "Didn't seem like a good topic of conversation for a barroom. Besides you were drunk."
      "Screw off. . . "
      "Mm."
      "We have to get Cloud and Vincent now, "Nanaki said forcefully, "We have to get them away from her. If we don't, I fear they'll be little of them left to save. Jenova has. . . that thing has marked Cloud you say? I don't know what her intentions are, but she's marked him. Like a possession. I'm beginning to see why Bugah feels so horribly about all of this. All of this evil. Perhaps evil is a good word afterall."
      "First sensible thing I've heard you say, "Cid said cheerily, "Let's move. Reeve, what's it going to be?"
      The Shinra President looked at the group, still shaken by Howard's death. He knew Reno was grieving behind his sunglasses, he'd been close with many of those murdered guards, had even dated Jenni from Squad Four-A until the woman had wanted something more serious and Reno, in his customary fashion, had dropped her like a bad habit. He glanced to Rude and young Berk, the two of them wearing the cool Turk masks they adopted in public. Reeve had a feeling the three had been up all night but he couldn't tell from their appearance. Their suits were crisp, their faces calm and their eyes unreadable behind their sunglasses. Hands shaking slightly, he turned to look again towards the elevator, where the EMS were beginning to peel Howard out of the ground and scrape him into a bodybag. The sight left him nauseous, but the thought of any one of his friends laying dead on the ground left him nearly sobbing. Could he really let Tifa and the others go? If one or all never came back, he didn't think he'd be able to handle it. Still, he was confronting some of the best warriors on the Planet. These people had saved them all years ago, Reeve had watched them do it through Cait Sith's eyes, fighting beside them in his own meager way. He remembered their strength and their loyalty to eachother, something he'd never been able to immitate in the pathetic stuffed body he'd hidden behind. They were all so unyielding, they intimidated him. He glanced towards Tifa who glared at him expectantly.
      "It will take a few days for our men from Kalm and Junon to mobilize and arrive, "he began hesitantly, "But I will still send for them. Midgar needs protection. It's been pummeled once already, it doesn't need it again. From looking at the damage done to this building, I don't think the city could handle another assault. It cracked the foundations right down the center. We'll. . . we'll probably have to bulldoze and rebuild from scratch. Dammit. We can't do the same to an entire city though. I don't think anyone would have the heart to anyway, if anything happened. Not after we all worked so hard to raise it up from the ground."
      "Don't talk like that, Reeve, "Reno said, pulling his tangled hair back into a tight ponytail, "Nothing's going to happen."
      "Tifa, you, Cid, Red, and Barret do what you will. I'd like to send thirty men up with you, thirty of my best."
      "Alright, if that'll make you feel better, we'd be glad to have the help, "Tifa said diplomatically, eyeing Reeve and making him squirm for some reason. The Shinra president nodded, relieved she'd agreed, somehow sure she'd reject his help.
      "I'll inform Ikari and have him select some troops from Midgar's garrisons. It should take an hour or so, alright?"
      The small group nodded, including Reno which made Cid look to the man in surprise.
      "You going too, red?" the pilot asked, looking him over.
      "Do you have a problem with that, Highwind? Bitch killed my men and has my partner. I wanna introduce her to Mr. Voltage." Reno tapped his nightstick against his shoulder, looking decidely aggravated. "How 'bout you, Rude? You feel up to it?"
      "President Reeve, will I be paid for this? It's overtime, "Rude asked expressionless. Reeve grinned slightly and nodded.
      "Time-and-a-half?" the Turk questioned.
      "Time-and-a-half."
      "I'm in then. Berk too."
      "Excuse me? This is a saturday, I have a date tonight!" the young man protested, stepping back and losing his cool for just a minute. "I don't work overtime, Mr. Rude!"
      "You work overtime when I say you work overtime. Besides, you need the experience. Live with it." Berk continued to argue but Rude only stood with folded arms, face blank. The young Turk finally surrendered, borrowed Reeve's cell phone and huffed off to call his girlfriend.
      "Tseng would have murdered me if I'd ever argued with him like that, "Reno said watching him go. He turned to Tifa suddenly and asked, "An hour then? I need to go clean up. Do we meet back here?"
      "Why you askin' her?" Cid yelled, "I'm leadin'! Or ain't I?"
      "I don't care who the fuck's leading, I don't take orders from anyone anyway, do we meet back in an hour or not?"
      "Yes, yes, fine, "Tifa said, waving him off with one gloved hand. "Go take a shower and change your clothes, Reno, you smell like Seventh Heaven used to on a Friday night."
      Reno flipped her the bird and turned brusquely about, heading for the shattered exit doors. He didn't get very far before falling flat