Part Eight: Tolling the Iron Bell   Note: This chapter is dark and sad and dark. Um, you've been warned ^_^

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        Now, that was a familiar white.
        It reminded her of something. Something more than a color; a body of something so much bigger than herself that with each second she stared it down, she felt smaller and smaller, like an insect burning to dust beneath a colorless beam.
        That white was warm. It blew everything with any degree of solidarity away. It could dissolve a diamond in its brilliancy. But by the grace of the gods, it was so beautiful. . .
        Blinded by soft tears, Tifa reached a trembling hand up into the void of featureless white. It almost played in her fingers. Thick, curling gorgeousness of foamy energy. It warmed the flesh of her forearm but never quite touched her. She wanted to feel it, feel that heaven against her body. If it lapped her up, drank away her being, tore her soul apart, that was all okay, all welcome. The heat was desired after Cloud had left her in such bitter coldness. Her small body trembled, wracked by the assaults of the warm white. Chaos could eat her alive, oblivion could swallow her soul. Hell itself could wrap her shoulders in its evil embrace if only she got to feel some warmth.
        "Cloud!!"
        She called the name, suddenly terrified of the white. It was burning the world away and her small form was a panicking island in the middle of the wreckage. Why wouldn't it take her too? What cruelty was denying her the white heat?
        "Cloud!!"
        No answer though. He'd gone. He'd spoken his last words to her and they still roared, personified by this power. This lethal, gorgeous power, searing the cruelty of the world with its fire. It blinded her, baked her, sucked the air from her lungs. And left her trembling, by herself, in the cold.

        Midgar smouldered. Reno thought it looked like an old campfire ground to embers beneath an uncaring prick's shoes. He listened for noises beyond the incessant humming of the chopper engines and came up with nothing. Crackling sounds, the roar of flames, distant explosions but not what he so wanted to hear. His sober aquamarine eyes took in the damage below apathetically. Something was keeping it from sinking in. Something was keeping it from screwing with his mind and giving him a breakdown. Reno hoped that whatever it was kept it up.
        "I never thought I'd see anything like this. . . "
        Reno turned around and ran his eyes over Bugah. The old man sat looking feeble and worn on the floor of the chopper, his bent back against the bulkhead, a bandage on his forehead. "If I'd died before today, I could've gone happy. Why? Why did I have to live long enough to see the end of the world?"
        The ex-Turk shrugged, raising an arm and leaning it against the open doorway of the chopper. He laid his forehead against the soft fold of his jacket sleeve and sighed, loose red hair caught by the wind and whipping his neck.
        ". . . Yes. Yes, that's right, Ikari. I understand. No, you needn't worry over it, just call Wynn and tell him I said so. Yes. Alright."
        Reeve hung his cellphone up, the handunit silencing with a cold beep. He dropped it in the tattered pocket of his blazer, then went to stand beside Reno and survey the wreckage of his kingdom. Plumes of smoke polluted the skies and reflected in Reeve's own dark eyes mockingly. The red of the flames below made his features garrish.
        "Any sign of anyone?" he asked quietly. Reno stared for a moment, then shook his head.
        "The losses aren't that bad all told. We were lucky to have been forewarned, or. . . or I don't know. Or we'd all be dead right now."
        "Tifa called me. Right before. . . "
        "I know."
        The words had been unnecessary, the thought was on both men's minds. Tifa had called from Midgar only minutes before the entire sprawling city had been decimated by a fireball from the cosmos. They'd been flying over the remains for nearly fifteen minutes and had yet to hear a single cry for help, see a single sign of life from anywhere in the city. Much less any indications that a lone woman who'd been at the very heart of the blast might still be alive.
        "Do you think Cloud. . .?" Reeve's voice trailed off and he crossed his arms, leaning against the other side of the open doorway.
        "Do I think what?"
        "Do you think he did this?"
        "Yes I do."
        "How can you--"
        "Because I don't know of anyone else with the power to summon SuperNova, do you? Or anyone else, for that matter, who'd have the desire to."
        Reeve frowned, staring outside intently. "Do you think it killed him?"
        Reno whipped his eyes away from the wreckage of Midgar and stepped further inside the helicopter. Huffing and muttering, he threw himself into the co-pilot's seat besides Mannik and glared out the forewindow.
        "I hope so. . . " he finally answered, "For his own sake."
        The Shinra president hunched his narrow shoulders up over his ears and clenched his teeth, forcing himself to scour the smoking mess below. The chopper's erratic shadow darted over the terrain of destruction, getting larger, then shrinking away as it slid over depressions in the land. Reeve watched it with glistening eyes. The silence of the group behind him pressed at his back while the deathly quiet of his ruined city assaulted his front. He felt totally pressed between two unforgiving flat hands. His responsibility towards his company and towards his friends held him in a stifling embrace that barely left room for his chest to rise and fall with his breaths. Why were they clashing now? Again? His loyalty towards Cloud and his loyalty towards Shinra. One was killing the other. Now, Reeve knew of two choices: he could either pursue Cloud Strife and destroy him to save the Planet, or he could say to hell with the Planet and try to save Cloud Strife.
        "What's our next move, Mr. President?"
        Reno couldn't have asked a worse question. Reeve sighed deeply, wishing the sun would set and wipe out the light flooding over the wasteland below.
        "What's the status of our party?" he asked, desperate to stall. Reno lowered red brows over his eyes, seeing right through the tactic. But he answered promptly anyway, it was his job.
        "There's you, me, Berk, Marlene, Wallace, Red, and Ikari. If Highwind ever gets back, we can count him in too. There're about a hundred'n fifty troops crammed into Kalm but they're severly short of ammo and equipment. It's all lying below us in a million pieces. Garrisons in Junon, garrisons in Costa del Sol. I'm not putting too much stock in numbers now though, Reeve. We don't need the backing of an army, we need the backing of our Planet."
        "Yeah. . . "
        Reno puckered his lips, examining the inside of his eyelids for a moment.
        "We need to go after Cloud and Vincent, "he finally said lowly, "We have to stop this before it goes any farther than it already has."
        "What do you mean, 'Go after them'?"
        "He means kill them, "Bugah answered, massaging the headache tearing through his skull. He looked up at the Shinra president with a sour expression. "The same thing you and your group did thirteen years ago with the last madman that threatened our lives."
        "But they're our friends, "Reeve hissed, getting angry, "That would be blatant betrayal. They need help, not enemies."
        Bugah didn't answer, momentarily startled by the man's fury. Reeve turned away from him and pouted, looking outside again. Reno could almost hear the conflict within him. The same conflict roared inside his own mind, making the ex-Turk buck in unease. It couldn't it ever be simple? Why couldn't it ever be a simple matter of, there's the bad guy, there's the good guy. Good guy kills bad guy, world lives happily ever after. Finito.
        No. Things had a tendency to smear. Good blended with evil and formed something even more deadly. Evil harnessed purity and twisted it around into a weapon. Reno didn't think it fair that evil should have such unfair advantages. Living was hard enough without having to deal with fuzzy lines all the time.
        "Reno, you said we needed the backing of our Planet, "Reeve said suddenly, turning his head up to eye his employee, "Didn't, er. . . Sephiroth say he was going to ah. . . represent the Planet?"
        "You've got to be kidding me." Reno smirked unattractively, jabbing his hands in his pockets, "I don't want to hear that name again. We're lucky Marlene's little stunt didn't get us all killed. Sephiroth summon, that's fuckin' rich."
        "You saw it the same as I, "Reeve protested, "He was there, he used the power of the Planet and zapped right out of a materia stone. Like it or not, he's aligned with it. Ask Bugah over there, he'll tell ya."
        Reno looked towards the little old man who gave him a shrug, crossing his arms. "It would appear that's the case, "he answered, "But Hades himself can use mako to appear. And I wouldn't go about trusting Hades, now would you?"
        "I might if I ran out of other options, "Reeve muttered darkly, "But don't exagerate the situation, Elder Bugah. Does Sephiroth really compare to Hades?"
        The old man grinned weakly at the question, looking over the President's shoulder towards the grey sky outside the jerking chopper. "I don't think I want to get into that debate right now, sir, "he answered, "But I could name quite a few corpses who might say he does. Or did, in any event."
        "Well, I guess it's a moot point anyways, "Reeve answered snappishly, "There's no way I can allow that materia to be used again. That little hunk of red glass is a ticking timebomb harboring a megalomaniacal murderous madman. Who died thirteen years ago yet seems just as lethal with that damned sword of his as ever. He made ribbons out of Chaos, didn't he?"
        "Yeah, "Reno said impatiently, "And Chaos made ribbons outta poor Berkie and Barret Wallace. We're dealin' with a couple very lethal creatures. I really wish Jenova'd stayed wherever she's been and not introduced me to 'em." Reno slumped down in the chopper seat, his untucked stained shirt sliding up and covering his chin as his dark shades fell over his eyes. "This blows. . . this blows so horribly bad. Do you think the insurance company's gonna pay for my house?"
        "Since the insurance company got blown up, I doubt it."
        "Damn it. I don't suppose I could get compensation from Shinra, eh?"
        Reeve shut his eyes and shook his head, sighing. "Don't you start bleeding me dry too, Reno."
        "Heh. Sorry."
        "President Reeve!"
        "Hm?"
        Mannik, the young helicopter pilot's firm voice darted into the back space of the hovering chopper. Reeve, Reno, and Bugah all looked up.
        "Sir, we're approaching Sector Three, where the impact was centered."
        "So we are, Lieutenant."
        The Shinra President approached Reno in the co-pilot's seat and jerked his thumb in a gesture for the guy to get the hell out of his way. Groaning, Reno rose and Reeve plopped down on the worn leather, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. Swallowing hard, he gazed out the large, dirty fore window of the chopper where Mannik was pointing.
        "Yeah, that's the black heart of alla this all right. . . "
        A three square mile stretch of flattened, burnt land met Reeve's unenthusiastic vision. Featureless, dull, it spread away, smouldering orange and red in some places, sending lone smoke signals into the skies; forlorn grey wisps spelling depair, spelling ruin. As far as he could see, this shroud grasped, choking the land and making it hard to believe that a healthy productive neighborhood had once thrived there, that children had played in the streets and people had walked down the sidewalks, watching the stars.
        "One day, this will all be green. . . "
        Bugah's soft, wavering voice floated to the two men's ears. "Green. Life will reclaim this land and restore the soil and make something better than what was there. In hundreds of years, maybe a thousand, this will all be beautiful, a paradise of life thriving off the death of this destruction. The dead will feed the living and the living will thrive. Survival, change, renewal. That is the Planet."
        "Spare me the ecology lecture please, Bugah, "Reeve moaned, frowning deeply in anguish, "I don't think I can properly appreciate it right now. I won't be alive to enjoy the Planet's precious renewal. I was alive only to build up the city that it so carelessly allowed to be destroyed. Oh, gods. . . Midgar didn't deserve this. My people didn't deserve this. It isn't fair. All with one god damned spell, one stupid word and a lifetime of work turns to shit and ash. It's a waste. A waste!" The Shinra president pounded a fist into the chopper bulkhead, furiously grinding his teeth. It WAS a horrible waste, such a thoughtless act that it made him want to scream. Why hadn't the LifeStream shown up to do something about it? Didn't anything care?
        "We're on our own, "he muttered, shaking his head slowly, "Humanity's on its own." He looked to Reno who tossed him a shrug, helpless.
        "Fuck it, "he said easily, "Whatever happens, happens."
        Reeve almost snapped at him, almost popped him a good one in the shoulder. But something stayed his hand. "Fuck it, "he echoed, "Yeah, the shortest prayer there is. Heh. The Planet can get bent. We'll deal with this on our own."
        "Yeah." Reno smiled, leaning his elbows on the headrest of the co-pilot's chair. Amazing how two little words could so easily clear the air. But they weren't the most effective healing words ever. No, those came next.
        "I see something down there. . ."
        "What?"
        Reeve shot forward in his seat, almost chinning himself on the chopper control console. Mannik repeated himself, adjusting his course slightly. "On the horizon, sir. Something. . . golden?"
        Reno shoved his president out of the way and pressed his face against the forewindow glass as Bugah called eager questions to his back. The red-headed ex-Turk whistled to himself in disbelief.
        "I'll be damned."

        Tifa had awoken from the vision of blinding white with a single throbbing ache in her head. The light of destruction had been so intense it'd nearly blinded her. As it was, things seemed a little too dark before her eyes and she hoped it wasn't permanent.
        Why wasn't she dead?
        The mystery echoed in her mind. Around her stretched complete and utter desolation, a leveled city, and she'd been in the middle of the blast. Yet she was unharmed. Her green jacket, her bluejeans, her white sweater, they all had been singed and blackened. The damaged fabric rubbed against her skin until it burned, but Tifa was alive.
        What had happened? This question disturbed her most. It had all been a terrifying chain of events. Jenova's dark plot to turn her husband into a murderer, into the tool she'd use to conquer a Planet that had wronged her. The evil had dragged her children into it, her friends, herself, an old scientist, old fears, old terrors, and now, it seemed, Jenova was winning, despite their best efforts.
        Midgar was dead.
        Tifa knelt in the ash for a long time with this realization raging in her head. She remembered her life in the city, the happy times and the sad times, the murders and the births. Nothing but memories now. Tifa suddenly found herself crying. She wept for her lost home, her lost shop, lost hopes. . . but. . . most bitterly, she wept for her lost lover. It all was gone. Armageddon had come and stolen her life away, leaving her cruelly alive and sadistically alone. The hole in her heart was consuming. Tifa fed it with tear after tear but the thirst was remorseless and wouldn't be satisfied.
        That power had come. SuperNova. Cloud's power. She'd been plastered to the ground beneath it, staring up at the white as it came to do its work, to burn and destroy. But Cloud had stood over her. She remembered gazing up at his divinely lit form, a pillar of raging strength against the white. He'd sheltered her from the blast. She'd lain being baked beneath what had gotten past his barrier and when it all had been over, when she'd lain stricken, he'd carried her away to here. To here.
        Sector One.
        Their home.
        The pretty white house was a collection of burnt, brittle beams. It all crumbled beneath her boots. She stumbled around the perimeter of the home, blinded by grief and disbelief, and then found Cloud's gift to her. Yunata.
        "Yunata. . ."
        The word had felt good to say, a normal word to push the horrible strangeness away. Vincent's gold chocobo, still locked in their stable, warking frantically and half-maddened after suffering through the blast. Cloud's power had kept him alive, he'd kept her alive for reasons Tifa couldn't understand. A final favor to Vincent, perhaps? Out of memory for his children? No, Tifa knew the real reason. He'd done it for her, so she'd have something warm, living, and breathing to be there when she awoke. He'd been so right in his actions, Tifa thought to herself, stroking the cooing chocobo's soft neck, he knew her so well.
        He kept me alive, and he kept Yunata alive. It's true then. This isn't Jenova. Not entirely. Cloud's sane enough to make his own decisions. He chose death and he chose life. He dished it out as he saw fit.
        As Tifa swung herself onto Yunata's warm, broad back, this thought slipped into her mind, jabbing at the walls of her skull with unfeeling ferocity. She knew she couldn't entirely blame Jenova anymore. That beast had been the catalyst of all of this, she was the reason Cloud thought CJ and Ifalna had been stolen from him, but Cloud was now acting with his own will. Or at least, Tifa thought rebelliously, he is to some extent. But not wholly, she knew him too well to ever believe that. This just couldn't be placed solely on Cloud. It just couldn't be.
        The city was so silent.
        Cold winds blew with moaning cries through the desolation. They had Tifa shivering against Yunata's blind comfort. She huddled closer to the bird's neck, gripping her sides tight with her knees, weaving her fingers through the soft feathers. As she let Yunata carried her wherever the chocobo wanted, Tifa thought only of the destruction of her life. Of Midgar. Black ash smeared her limbs and covered her vibrant cheeks with murderous dark. Tifa only hoped to god that the soot didn't creep inside and muss her soul with its destruction. She'd need all of her spirit to get him back.

        By the time the chopper had landed, she was unconscious.
        "She's all right, right? Tell me she's all right!!"
        Reeve circled Yunata with frantic steps and the bird bucked in unease at the all attention, at the panicking humans and the huge buzzing metal insect only a few feet away. Warking, she tried to throw Tifa from her back but Reno stepped forward and caught her in time, giving her reins a solid jerk.
        "Woah there, ya overgrown gamehen. Precious cargo." Frowning, Reno patted Yunata soothingly, then lifted Tifa's limp form in his two strong arms. She gave a little moan, then her head slumped against the ex-Turk's narrow chest and she shivered. Reno looked decidedly uneasy. So did Reeve.
        "She's not going to be happy if she wakes up in your arms, "The Shinra President muttered.
        "Yeah, well, I'm not happy having her here. C'mon." He made his way briskly for the chopper, where Bugah had his curious grey head peeping out, wispy thin hairs blowing in the breeze. Reeve thought that Reno was carrying Tifa awfully gently for someone who disliked her so much. He stood there for a moment, watching the two of them and sighing in relief. Then Yunata's sharp beak pecked him in the small of his back and he winced, whipping around and grabbing her reins.
        "You do this, birdie? "he asked thoughtfully, scratching the golden creature at the base of her beak, "Did you keep her alive through this?" Yunata didn't answer, only scratched impatiently in the scorched dirt and Reeve smiled weakly, throwing a hand in the pocket of his jacket. It was cold out. The sun seemed to have given up on them all.
        "Cloud saved her, didn't he, birdie? Yeah, he saved her. I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. Terribly selfish of him, don't you think? Taking the entire city away, all these people, but sparing his own love. Since when does Cloud Strife decide who gets to live and who gets to die?" Reeve eyed the sky, looking past the smoke for the perfect fleece of the scuttling clouds. He needed to see something beautiful and real beyond all this decay. He needed some hope.
        Yunata pecked him in the back again, as though rebuking him for his dark question and the Shinra president turned and cuffed her soundly in the side. "What is there to fight for, eh?" he whispered, "Everything I had is dust beneath my feet. All my presidential power, even when it did exist, wasn't enough to keep Berk, Barret, Tifa, all of them from being hurt. Shinra was nothing. It hadn't been anything even when it'd still been in existance. That power, that control was meaningless if I couldn't use it to conquer the demon wrecking their lives. Can you tell me what I can use to keep fighting, birdie? Can you tell me a reason to bother? If this is the end, struggling is a waste, isn't it? Oh, gods. . . there's got to be something I can do, some way to give everyone their lives back. . . "
        President Reeve saw now he was surrounded by lives he could never return. Despite his evacuation, there'd been so many caught in SuperNova's blast. He could feel the combined weight of a thousand lives pressing their cold hands on his shoulders. And they wouldn't let up their grip. They crushed him, and threatened to push him down, make him part of the ground they'd all been smashed into. Would he be able to look Cloud in the eye again? Ever?
        "Vengeance."
        Yeah, he could fight for that, if nothing else. The desire was there, the anger; A solid enough reason to keep going. Avenging these lost lives and his lost empire. But who, in the end, would he really be forced to wreak that vengeance on? Jenova. . . or Cloud and Vincent? Who was really wielding the sword?
        As he led Yunata to the chopper, Reeve had no answers to his questions. Only doubt. And a certainty that when that doubt was soon replaced with the inevitable truth, it would hurt everyone there to see it.

        "Man, is this all we got?"
        Berk looked down unenthusiastically at the small bowl of oatmeal cupped in his hands. He wasn't even sure if it was oatmeal. "Ack! Part of it moved!" He tipped the bowl to one side, and the grey sludge slid a bit, but slowly, with a sucking noise. "It's winking at me. . . I think this oatmeal knows something I don't."
        "Stop acting like a child, Mr. Berk." Marlene looked up with a frown and handed a bowl of hot grey stuff to Barret who accepted it with a sniff.
        "Thanks. I think."
        He jabbed at it with a plastic spoon.
        "Hey, it's fightin' back."
        "What?!" Marlene crossed her arms and sat down at the edge of her father's cot, peering over at the oatmeal. It looked fine to her. "You two are such children, "she sighed, leaning back on her hands, the soft cot sinking under her weight. "Do you want seven course steak dinners? Well, it isn't going to happen. Kalm is so inundated with Midgar refugees it isn't even funny. There's hardly a thing left in the shops, you're lucky the Shinra had MREs in storage. Otherwise there'd be a lot of very hungry people in this city."
        "Better hungry than poisoned by this crap. But MREs aren't bad, "Berk said defensively, "They're really pretty good. Just not Shinra's two year old oatmeal. I think I'd rather starve than suffer though this. This shit's dangerous. Hey though, we're Shinra employees, don't we get meal priority?"
        Marlene shook her head, scowling. "Our being employees is actually working against us. Reeve's desperate to appease Midgar's citizenry. He'll see us suffer as long as it makes him look better to the civilians."
        "Well, damn." Berk began shoveling down the oatmeal, grimacing in undisguised displeasure. His chest and back still stung from the wounds Chaos had seen fit to give him, but he felt a hell of a lot better than he had a few hours ago. He'd been ready to cut his own throat before, it'd stung so bad. Of course, he hadn't complained. Not when Barret had been in the cot next to him, insane with delirium.
        It'd been push and go for a while. Even with materia, it'd been too risky to attempt too many spells all at once on the butchered man, it could have sent him into shock, or stopped his heart. It had gotten really dangerous for about a half an hour. Berk had been sure Marlene would go crazy with worry, the way she'd practically screamed at Barret not to die. It had unnerved him, she'd yelled at her father as though he were a misbehaving child, trying to get back at her somehow by pulling off a naughty prank. Few pranks worse than dying just to prove a point. She'd sure seen it that way, knowing Barret would do anything to convince her that Shinra was evil, was wrong and corrupt.
        But she'd managed to make him stop.
        Berk looked over and gave Barret a once over with uncharacteristically sober eyes. The large white bandage around his stomach had him sitting awkwardly in the cot, but he seemed so much better now, it really amazed him. Marlene too. Barret's recovery had zapped the life and the fight right back into her.
        "What're you lookin' at?" the guy snapped suddenly, catching the young Turk staring at him. Berk grinned and shrugged his shoulders, swirling his oatmeal around.
        "Nothing. Just rather cool, is all."
        "What is?"
        Berk shook his head, still smiling.
        "Nothin'. Is President Reeve back yet?"
        Marlene blinked and looked up through a curtain of loose bangs. "No, "she answered, taking Barret's now empty bowl out of his hand, "But it's only been forty-five minutes, I wouldn't worry."
        "Hey, I ain't worried about too much of any of this anymore, "Berk said cockily, "Not after watching you summon Sephiroth. Man, with him on our side we're unbeatable."
        "You really are jes' a kid, ain't ya?" Barret asked, a petulant hand rubbing at his midsection, "Blinded by the pretty lights, the bigass sword, the badass attitude. Marlene won't be usin' that materia again. I could kill Bugah for ever givin' it to her. We're so lucky we're all still alive after that."
        "But he could be such a powerful ally, "Berk protested, sitting further up in his cot, "I mean, it's General Sephiroth! Born and bred for combat. And already dead, so what's he got to fear! Man, what a warrior. He was wicked against Chaos. Even better than the stories I'd heard, or the old footage of him in battle. His sword technique. . . gods, if I could fight like that I wouldn't be taking orders from Rude, that's for damned sure."
        "You fence?" Marlene asked in honest curiosity. "I just thought you were a marksman."
        "Both, "the Turk replied with a shrug, "The best at both in the department. Well, aside from Rude, Mr. Strife and Reno. But someday. . . " Berk smiled to himself, picturing when he'd be leader of the Turks. Midgar or no, the organization would continue, Berk would see to that himself.
        "Humble too, I see, "said Marlene with a frown. "Admirable."
        "Hey, why go around in false modesty? I know I'm good, might as well admit it to people when they ask, right?"
        Marlene rolled her eyes.
        "Right."
        "The next time I see Chaos, "Berk said, raising an imaginary gun and aiming it in the air, "I'm gonna admit that to him right off. . . I owe that freaky monster. I hope he takes checks from the First National Bank of Royal Ass-Whoop."
        Barret glared at the guy, then fell back against his pillow with a sigh. Marlene looked towards him anxiously but he waved her off with a thick hand. "I'm fine, "he said, "I just want out of here is all. I want to go back to Cosmo Canyon." He truly meant the words. He'd never meant for any of this to happen. He'd never expected to get caught up in a war for the Planet again, to see Marlene in danger because of him. He wanted their normal lives back and he wanted her safe. Blinking softly, Barret watched his daughter's face as she busied herself fixing his bed and carrying their dishes off to the volunteers working the food line. He thought distractedly that she'd really grown up that past month. She'd gone from a little girl giddy about getting to live her dream of working for the largest corporation in the world, to a real heroine, a real scientist, just as she'd always wanted. His heart swelled with emotion when he remembered the way she'd fearlessly approached Chaos, intent on saving him though she hadn't had a weapon besides her nails, her fists and her own bravery. Barret had rebuked her for it later, but he'd really been proud. Marlene was a regular little AVALANCE warrior now. And Barret would've been glad to fight alongside of her.
        "I need to teach you how to shoot, "he said softly. Marlene looked over and gave him a low-key scowl.
        "Dad, I'm a scientist. I don't need to know about that stuff."
        "Shinra scientists need to be able to defend themselves, "Berk cut in, "Even Neto knew how to load a gun. It's a dangerous career, what, with all the rivalry between us and other companies."
        "I'm not worried. Besides, sometimes I think I believe I may become a pacifist. That's what Buganhagen was."
        "What did you say?" Barret stared at his daughter as though she were a stranger. "No child of mine is gonna turn into some hippie pacifist weirdo. Someone punches you, you punch back. Honor, honey, pride. You gotta defend 'em."
        "But why turn into what you hate in order to stop what's attacking you?" Marlene asked, "Violence begats violence. Someone has to break the chain or it'll build up, link after link, for an eternity!"
        "Aw, man, let's not argue about this, "Berk cut in, "This is something no one'll win. Say, anyone hear from Neto, speaking of the ratty little guy?"
        Marlene stuck her tongue out at her father then turned away to address the young Turk. Barret shoved her in the shoulder in mock-anger and she fell off the cot.
        "Last I heard, he was on his way to Icicle Inn, "the woman snapped, picking herself up, "He told President Reeve that he quit, then said he was off to find some sanity. Good luck to him. Why he chose Icicle Inn though, I don't know. But it's fine by me really, Dr. Neto rather annoyed me."
        "Yeah." Berk smiled to himself and crossed his arms gently over his wounded chest. "He was always hitting on you, wasn't he?"
        "What?" Barret looked up as though a bloodhound picking up a dangerous scent, "Neto? That's the guy that wanted you to get ice cream with him? Who wouldn't stop pesterin' you?"
        "Hush, dad." Marlene reddened slightly, wishing the wounded in the cots beyond Berk and Barret's would stop looking over at her and listening with eagerness to their conversation. She didn't feel her lovelife, or rather, lack of one, was the business of everyone in Kalm. "That's the guy. But he's gone now and you don't need to worry about it, all right? I told you I wouldn't get involved with him and I didn't. It never went beyond him following me down the WDD hallway with goo-goo eyes. The little mouse. . . " She pushed a ticklish strand of hair back with the rest and eyed Berk, who was staring at her and trying to suppress laughs. "What?"
        "Aw, nothin'. Rather feel bad for the guy is all. Guess he never had a chance with you. Heh. Why though?"
        "What? I don't see how that's any of your business." Marlene stood and tapped her foot, getting angry. She did not like this topic of conversation.
        "Aw, c'mon, Marlene, why didn't you like Neto? 'Cause he was smarter than you? 'Cause he was stupid? Was he too ugly, too much of a pantywaist?"
        "Shut up. . . "
        Berk shook his head, eyes narrowing, fury beginning to suddenly build in his chest for unknown reasons. "Couldn't live up to your high standards. The frigging crown jewel of the Weapons Development Department had to have the proper setting to be embedded in, eh? Neto was too tarnished, too ridiculous. Not enough of a shining knight for ya. . ."
        Marlene clenched her jaw and turned away. Barret saw her discomfort and, with a small growl, he reached across the short space between his cot and Berk's and grabbed the young guy's collar roughly, pulling him right out of his sheets.
        "You watch your mouth, Turk, "he snarled lowly, wrenching him right up into his face, "You watch the way you talk to her."
        "Heh. . . " Berk twitched uncomfortably in Barret's iron grip, his dark green eyes fixed on Marlene's averted face. "Sorry to upset the princess, "he muttered, "Don't wanna see the genius cry. Heh. Get your fuckin' hands offa me, Mr. Wallace."
        Barret harumphed, dropping him roughly and Berk toppled into a heap on the ground, the nurses, volunteers, and other wounded watching, the medical tent suddenly silent. With as much dignity as he could, he picked himself up, one arm wrapped around his stinging chest. They'd removed the cast from his healed arm but it still galled him, especially after just being dropped on it. He held it awkwardly as he stared at Marlene's back, ignoring the questioning eyes of the patients around him. The woman began to walk off towards the exit but he stopped her with a violent hand on her shoulder.
        "Allow me, "he said with a curl of his lip, a tone of viciousness in his voice that he couldn't ever remember summoning before, "You stay here with your daddy. The big bad man'll leave."
        Each step a furious kick, Berk stalked from the medical tent. The flap of the exit smacked him on the rear as he stepped outside and the cold breeze blew past the thin cotton of his dress shirt, chilling his sore flesh.
        What's wrong with me? he asked himself impatiently. Why did I yell at her? Fuck me and all this emotional shit in my veins, it's making me a raving lunatic. Screw her and her old man.
        Walking with agitated steps, Berk wandered aimlessly about the main square of Kalm. The streets were flooded with people. Their roars, their whispers, shouts and conversations drifted to him. He would've loved to be one of them, concerned only with living another day, finding shelter after Midgar's destruction. Not concerned with Marlene Wallace. Or with the fate of his company and his Planet. The young Turk sighed deeply to himself, absently rubbing his bandaged chest as he walked. How much easier it would've been to be a lamb, and not one of the god-damned sheperds.
        After a bit of pointless ambling, Berk found himself at the edge of the city. A worn stone wall barred his path further, as well as a mob of milling people, scurrying about like ants from a disturbed nest. They were snapping pictures, running movie cameras, writing notes, because here, at Kalm's westernmost edge, the wreckage of Midgar was most apparent. It loomed off on the rim of the horizon, a permanently settled black cloud. The press was recording it and broadcasting the carnage, the scoop of the decade, all around the world. The civilians were making records of it all for posterity. Photos to show their grandkids, movies to play for their friends. One day, their children's children's children would speak in hushed tones of the day that Midgar died. They'd pass old faded pictures around over coffee. They'd make their kids watch the documentaries on tv.
        "Damn. . . "Berk muttered beneath his breath. The sight of the destroyed metropolis finally struck at him, finally made him shiver. "Just how serious is all this. . ?"
        "Probably just as serious as you think, Mr. Berk."
        Berk looked around for the owner of the gravelly voice, then looked down. Nanaki stood there, one eye pasted on the horizon, lit tail flickering thoughtfully. "I'd like to think it isn't so, but I'm afraid the ruins in the distance are only a precurser to what will consume every city, every inch of the Planet soon. This is only the beginning. We must see past this shock and prevent further death. We must."
        Berk didn't answer, only combed his dark hair down with his fingers, pushing it out of his eyes. Nanaki stared for a while longer, taking long deep breaths, uneasy at the smell of decay in the distance, then turned up to the young human, a fresh thought in his yellow eye. "I wanted to thank you for helping Marlene and I out back there, "he began, "That was pretty brave of you."
        "What? Jumping on Chaos' back? Nah, it was pretty stupid of me." Berk rubbed at his chest, frowning. "Mr. Reno chewed me out for it."
        "That's only because he was worried about you, "Nanaki said matter-of-fact, "He's unhinged as it is with Rude injured. When he showed up and saw you bleeding on the ground, I'm sure it had him panicked."
        Berk cocked his head to one side, staring at the clouds, then shrugged, jamming a hand in his pocket. "You sound like you know a lot about Mr. Reno, "he said in a neutral voice.
        "Not really. Just a good bit about you humans. And how loyal you are to eachother. How much you worry about eachother. Common observations like that."
        "Guess so. . . " Berk carefully adjusted his arm so he could cross it with his uninjured one, trying to make himself comfortable as the people around the both of them struck out with rude elbows and arms, jostling them as they fought for better views of the decimated city. One of them shoved a little too hard and Berk lashed out, knocking the guy to the dirt. When he jumped furiously to his feet, fists raised, Berk gestured to the Magnum tucked in his pants and the man moved off, bowing apologetically.
        "So whatta ya think about General Sephiroth, "Berk asked suddenly, giving Nanaki a glance, eager to change the subject.
        "What do you mean?"
        "I mean, what do you think about all this summon business?"
        Nanaki shut his eye, and suddenly there was the image of that shivering lone figure in the LifeStream, the lonely soul of a man who wouldn't let himself rest. It had troubled him greatly that day in Cosmo Canyon, as he and Bugah had stood on the dark platform of the old machine, looking up through a doorway into a place that was supposed to be like a paradise. Why had that image of blissful oblivion, of green nothingness, left him with such soured vision? Sephiroth deserved the torture, didn't he? Fit penence for a man egotistical enough to try and be a god.
        "I think. . . " Nanaki's voice was a slow whisper, almost a purr, "I hope that Cloud is given such a chance for redemption, some day."
        Before Berk could snap out an irritated reply, there was a roaring in the distance, the familiar hum of the Shinra presidential chopper. The young Turk jerked his head up and around, peering beyond the huddled heads of the masses and towards the section of town that the soldiers had roped off for company use. Just as he expected, the sleek but dirtied silver form of a helicopter was rapidly descending, sending a field of dust and debris out in a circle around it. Berk shielded his eyes with an upraised arm and Nanaki crouched at his side.
        "Is that them?" he asked irritably, unable to see past the people before him.
        "Yeah, I see the President, Mr. Reno too, and the old guy. And. . . oh my god, they have Tifa!"
        "What?! What? You're lying!"
        Nanaki's words stuttered over themselves and he muttered a few uncharacteristic curses as Berk ignored him and shot through the crowd, pushing people unceremoniously to the ground. The people pushed back, also attempting to move towards the newly arrived chopper, many wanting to voice their opinions of Shinra and their involvement in the destruction of their city. Berk burst from the edge of the crowd and stumbled towards the helicopter, seeing Reno hop out from the doorway, then turn to assist Mannik with an unconscious Tifa. He tried to approach but was halted by a Shinra soldier, third class, a young punk who thought the world should stop just because he was carting around a rifle. Looking about, Berk saw a ring of such soldiers surrounding the chopper, each with weapons raised and grim determination on their faces. He dug around for his ID card, flashed it smugly in the young guard's face, and snapped, "What's with the security all of a sudden?"
        The soldier gibbered for a moment, caught off guard, then threw up a quick salute to the higher ranking Turk and stepped to the side, clearing the way for him. "My apologies, sir, Mr. Reno has requested that we escort the President. He fears assassins, sir. The citizens are restless and growing hostile."
        "I believe that, "Berk muttered, turning to watch the people pushing belligerently against the wall of soldiers. They seemed ready to take their aggravation out on something, someone. Their city had been oblitered and they needed a scapegoat. They needed a reason, unable to accept the fact that Midgar had been nothing but a nuisance, an easily shattered barrier in Jenova's way. The young Turk shook his head and stepped past the guard, jamming his ID card and wallet back in the pocket of his slacks, then giving his gun a reassuring smack. He really didn't know what to think about any of it.
        "Mr. Reno, sir!" he called, approaching his superior.
        "Berkie!"
        The cranky co-head of Shinra security turned brusquely about and gave Berk a glare from beneath lowered red brows. "You should be resting up, kid. Materia or no, a wound's a wound."
        "Yes, sir." Berk stepped up and gave Reno a hand with Tifa, who was struggling slightly, eyes shut, as though caught in a bad dream. The two of them slid her carefully from the floor of the chopper and Reno took her up in his arms again. Then came Mannik, soberly leading a loud warking chocobo from the innards of the chopper and finally Berk gave a quick salute as Reeve hopped out. The Shinra president ignored him and trailed behind Reno as the ex-Turk led the way to the medical tent. Reeve was on his cellphone again, deep in a frustrating conversation. In french this time.
        The group of soldiers stubbornly accompanied them during the short walk from the landing pad to the tent and the young guy with the gun's words had Berk on edge. Assassins, he'd said. Probably an exaggeration. Berk knew Reno never missed an opportunity to put Reeve into a panic, fanning his worries of rebellion was probably just his idea of a joke. Still, the young Turk kept his hand hovering near his gun as they went, his eyes roving around them, senses as sharp as he could make them with as tired as he was.
        "She looks surprisingly well."
        "What?"
        Berk looked down and saw Nanaki again. He tread easily at his side.
        "Tifa. Considering where she's been, she looks quite good."
        "I suppose so."
        Berk looked back towards the smoke rising from distant Midgar. The bottom edges of it were still stained red with the blood of the fires yet raging in parts of the city. Reno and Reeve had just pulled Tifa from all of that mess. It didn't seem possible. Yet. . . yet it made sense that his boss, that Cloud would take such special care to protect her from his own rage. Cloud adored her to a fault. Berk had seen it, everytime he'd ever watched the two of them together, he'd watched the relationship they had and wondered idly if he could ever have something like that. Even now, it defied the touch of Jenova, the burn of hellish flames, the coldness of a consuming insanity. Cloud had seen fit to keep her safe.
        "Ya know, Red, "Berk began, eyes glued to the distant destruction, "If anyone can help him, it's Tifa. She'll tell us what t'do to stop him. She was there, she was there with him when he did all this. She'll know."
        Nanaki listened to the young human's words, so bright and sure of themselves that it made him wince. He couldn't share that optimism. His own about the entire situation had died alongside the city two hundred miles away. The only thing he hoped for now was speed. He didn't want the Planet's death to be a slow and tortuous one.

        Sea air.
        A freshening breeze, soaked in a pleasing chill.
        The grit of sand beneath his fingers, oozing up and gently scratching the palms of his hands.
        Sensual ticking at the nape of his neck, his infinite thin hairs stroking his skin with a lover's touch, eager to cool the fever raging below.
        The observations were pleasing. They were physical and easy to interpret. He welcomed them into his mind. They shoved the less tangible things away.
        An unmoving statue, Cloud sat on the coast of the Eastern Continent; a single black figure marring a perfect stretch of white sand. Before him, a line of blue soldiers rolled away into infinity. It was the army of the Northern sea, dashing off in sprays of white foam to do battle with the shore of the Northern Continent hundreds of miles away. The white sun overhead glared down upon him, baked his hair, reddened his bare chest. Breathing deeply, Cloud lay back in the sand, stretching his limbs until his joints popped. The waves roared on in his ears, the whistle of the fleeting winds. He closed his eyes, able to believe, for a while, that nothing else in the world existed.
        And maybe nothing else did.
        A sudden shadow fell over him as he lay there, blackening the reddish hue that'd consumed his vision as he'd stared up at the sun with closed eyes. He opened them and saw the black silouhette of a boy standing over him.
        "Hey, CJ, "he whispered, squinting against the white light, "Bring me a soda from the cooler, will ya? I'm thirsty as heck out here."
        Sure, dad. . .
        The figure moved off and Cloud was free to eye the brilliant blue of the skies. Birds, way way away, glided on paperthin wings. They darted in the breeze like a lot of notebook paper airplanes, perfectly white against the blue. He reached a heavy arm upwards to grab at them, to pull one down and then toss it back up again himself, make it fly higher than the rest, make it soar. He'd do that a lot when he was a kid. He'd have contests with himself to try and beat his own paper airplane records. He'd use up whole packs of paper, then steal the neighbor's phonebooks when he ran out. His mom had gotten so mad and Tifa had walked in on him once, they'd both just been kids, and he'd been sitting in his back yard, surrounded by ruined flyers, wet with dew, sprawled in the grass. She laughed at him, then tore a piece of paper from one of his stolen phonebooks and made a plane that'd flown further than any of his own attempts. It'd flown from his own yard and over the short wooden fence seperating it from Tifa's, and they'd searched for an hour but had never found it. She'd promised to show him how to make them her way. She'd promised to show him how to fly. . .
        The gulls glided off, growing smaller and smaller in the distance, until they were nothing but specks of white lost in the massive forms of cumulous clouds far away. Cloud's eyes grew sore from staring off at the misty horizon. He sat up, resting his chin on his hard knees, and half-lowered his gaze, eyelids heavy, the smell of the salt on the wind like a gentle sedative to his senses. He raised a hand and ran it absently through his tangled hair, rubbing soft strands of blonde between his bare fingers.
        "People used to believe that the sea was a god. . . he had a wife, children, and ruled underneath the water. Sailors would be scared of him, and make sacrifices before setting out on a long trip, scared that the sea-god would get angry and send a storm to wreck their boats."
        "Yeah? That's dumb though. How could the sea-god breathe underwater?"
        "He's a sea-god, Ifalna, he breathes like a fish, I'd guess. I dunno. You asked who Neptune was, don't question the answers I give ya. Mythology is interesting, just not very practical. But I haven't found too many things that manage to be beautiful and practical at the same time."
        Cloud looked towards the northern horizon again, the sounds of the gulls coming at him suddenly, as though bidding a sad farewell. He squinted to see them again, that flash of wing against sky, but their forms were lost in the distant azure. The mist was so thick to the north. The sky seemed anxious to conceal some secret there, it sent curtains of violet clouds, of deeply blue atmosphere to hide whatever lay in the distance. How wonderful it would be to be able to swipe a hand through all that obscurity, push the mists aside, and part the sky, look upwards for answers, look to the distance for a reason. But there were those clouds, blocking his way, making his bright eyes tear with their attempts to pierce past their broad white foreheads. The brain, the soul, the intellect beyond the fronts would have to stay hidden, because Cloud just didn't have the strength to destroy that barrier. His hand fell back to the sand with a thud, even as a shadow fell over him, cutting off the white sun. This shadow was firmer. Darker. Larger.
        Cloud turned his head. Chaos stood near him, large claws dripping bright red onto the cool white sands of the northern coast. The blood ran in streams and stained the beach, spread out from around the demon as though to consume the Planet with its crimson death. Cloud blinked slowly, gazing upon Chaos in sober curiosity, amazed at how anything could be so black. So black and immense against the blue of the perfect afternoon sky. The monster looked away, and stared off in idle curiosity at the same horizon Cloud had been observing. Its red eyes, their helplessness such a sharp contrast against the demon's garrish, devilish features that Cloud was amazed by it, scanned the distant heavens sadly.
        I can tell it's a beautiful day. Something about the way the air smells, I suppose. Or maybe it's just the sea, I don't know. It's so soft there in the distance, so gorgeous, though I know what lies there, waiting for us. Why it is that the Planet can still conceal it in such perfect mists is beyond me. It dresses its murderer in gold. Why? Why, Cloud? Hm. I certainly don't understand it. But then, humans aren't meant to, are we?
        Everything's red, everything's bloody. But still, I can tell it's a beautiful day. These demon eyes can't hide that from me. You see it too, I know you do. And they see it. That sky is something everyone shares, no matter where they are. It's always there, changing for us every second, always different and always beautiful. You know, I've never seen a sky I didn't find beautiful? And the most amazing of all are the skies before storms. That blue. . . that blue of a sky promising thunder. Everyone shares the skies, they're our link. Sometimes, I'll sit, staring out a window, watching the clouds, and I'll know that wherever she is, Lucrecia is watching them with me. I know that my old friends, my old family, dead or alive, they have that same sky above them. Or below them. Maybe it's black with rain, maybe it's blue with sun, it doesn't matter. It's the same sky. Because it's always beautiful. That's the link. The beauty that everyone shares. And there's not a damned thing Jenova can do to take that away. There can't be. I won't believe there is.
        Cloud listened to the soft words and didn't question them, didn't listen to them, only appreciated their whistful quality, their insistance, and left it at that. Sighing softly, he watched the horizon and marveled at the halos of rainbow light that the white sun burnt through the mists way off in the distance. The prismatic colors danced in the foam off the waves, glowed brighter as he squinted his eyes.
        ". . .it is. . . beautiful. . . " he whispered, a muffled catch in his voice.
        Vincent smiled. He was glad that if nothing else, the sky could be their link. He was looking at it too now. And despite the red, he knew it must be gorgeous.

        CJ played with his fingersnails, clicking them together absently, picking at a scab on his knuckle. He could feel his mom's scrutinizing gaze upon him, waiting for him to give some sign that he'd understood all she'd told him in the past ten minutes. Though it was a lie, he nodded his head, hoping that if he acted as though it all was okay, it'd make her feel better. The look in her eyes made the kid want to cry.
        "But why. . . " he stuttered, not looking up, "But why didn't he believe you when ya told him we were okay?"
        "There's something that just won't let him believe. And he won't let himself believe either. All he knows anymore is what he saw with his own two eyes. He won't let anything or anyone tell him what he saw was a lie. So many things have been shouting at your dad, a million voices, a million different things, people, trying to get him to believe. . . and as much as he would've liked to think you and Ifalna were fine, he wouldn't let himself. He only believes his eyes. Other things lie to him."
        "But not you, mom! Dad knows that!"
        Tifa shook her head sadly, squeezing CJ and giving him a peck on the cheek. "Not even me, Ceej. He won't trust anyone anymore."
        Tifa sat on the edge of a cot in one of the busy Shinra-funded medical tents. She'd showered, changed clothes, and forced a bowl of gray gruel down. A doctor had looked her over, a freckly kid in a bad polo shirt, and told her that aside from a few cuts, a burn or two, she was fine. Tifa didn't feel fine. Although having her son sitting on her lap helped her emotions just a bit.
        "Were there a lot of. . . people there when he did it?" CJ squirmed, still playing with his fingers.
        "Reeve was able to get a lot of people out, "Tifa answered softly, "But there were still some there. I don't know how many, they haven't done any kind of a census yet."
        "Will dad and Vincent go to jail?"
        CJ asked the question with deadly seriousness in his voice and Tifa couldn't help but crack a smile. She held him tighter and he looked confused at her expression.
        "What? Won't they go to jail? I mean, you guys always tell me you can't go around fightin' and killin' people!"
        Tifa nudged CJ off her knee and he sat beside her on the edge of the soft cot, watching the ground. "They won't go to jail."
        "But people go to jail when they kill people. . . "
        "Normal people do. But what your dad and Vincent are doing. . . it's not really them. Not really." Tifa wracked her brain for a better explanation and came up with nil. "Do you understand?" she asked in slight desperation, "I know it's hard, but do you?"
        CJ kept playing with his hands and staring the tent floor into submission. But he wouldn't nod this time, even though mom had that look on her face again. "I don't get it, mom, "he said sadly, "I want our house. And school and Seventh Heaven. I just wanna go home."
        Tifa put her arm around the boy, hating the helplessness, hating the things that had put the fear and the confusion in his violet eyes. "Me too."
        "Me three."
        Tifa looked up, taking her hand from CJ's shoulder, and turned towards the medical tent entrance. A shaft of white light broke the darkness as the flapped entrance blew open and Reno and Berk walked in. They sauntered down the main aisle of the place, cots to either side, ignoring the hateful mutters of the patients as they caught sight of the Shinra employees. Berk didn't understand their hostility. Shinra was providing all of this aid to Midgar's stricken citizens. . . why weren't the buggers more grateful?
        "Hey, kid, how was your ride on the HighWind? I heard you and the pilot had words."
        After stopping for a brief moment at the side of Rude's bed, Reno approached CJ and ruffled the kid's blonde hair, then messed with it till it all stood on end. A weak smile on his lips, he examined his face, well aware of what he and his mother had been discussing. Tifa had asked for a few minutes alone with the kid to explain what was going on. Reno wasn't sure how he'd feel if someone came up and told him his dad was out to ruin the world and that he'd started with his hometown. What would it be like to know your father was the most feared man on the Planet?
        CJ looked up at his dad's partner and grinned half-heartedly.
        "Cid was bein' a jerk, "he answered, "So I made him quit it."
        "C'mon now, Ceej, don't call him a jerk. He was nice enough to take you and Ifalna to Wutai with him. It was a much safer place to be than here. With me." Tifa plucked at the cuffs of the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. The stupid thing was three times too big and the sleeves wouldn't stop falling over her hands. It was making her nuts.
        "A jerk's a jerk's a jerk, "CJ said with a sniff, "I shoulda puked on him."
        "Well, ya feelin' better now?" Reno asked, crossing his arms and looking Cloud's son over with cool eyes. The kid shrugged and Reno didn't press him. "How 'bout you, lady?"
        Tifa threw the man a squinty glare, then turned and shut her eyes. "Yeah, Reno, "she muttered, "I'm just fantastic."
        "Hey, you're alive. I'll bet it's more than you thought you'd be a few hours ago. You survived the destruction of an entire city. You should be feeling pretty good about yourself."
        "It wasn't me." Tifa sighed, "I had nothing to do with it. . . you know why I'm still here. He spared me."
        "Spared you. . . "Reno leaned against one of the support beams of the tent casually, "That's a fine way to think of love."
        "Love? You think he didn't let me die with Midgar because he loves me? You're a frigging fool."
        CJ elbowed his mom, uncomfortable with the hostility he could feel between her and Reno. He wished the two of them would stop it, he hated watching other people fight with words. He could understand fistfights, solid punches, but the word stuff made him uneasy.
        "Why should I have been so special, different than any of the other corpses lying buried in soot two hundred miles away? I'm not any more important than them. Why'd he have to let me live? Now there's just. . . "
        "Damned guilt?" Reno finished with an upraised red eyebrow, "Quit with the self-pity, sweetheart. It gets a little old after a while. Cloud spared ya because as fucked up as he is in the head right now, he remembers that ya mean the world to him. It's that simple. Don't feel guilty cause of that. Feel glad that there's enough of him left for such a thing. That's what we're gonna save. Right CJ?"
        "Huh?" the kid looked up and Reno grinned huge at him, stepping on his right sneaker. He nodded. "Yeah. Don't worry, mom, it's all good. We're gonna go save the world. Killer."
        The air was suddenly quiet, or at least, as quiet as it could get inside the bustling, busy medical tent. Tifa kept her gaze on the ground, thoughts whirring in her head. CJ leaned against her, softly sighing. He imagined his dad as he'd been last time he'd seen him, he remembered when he'd burst into the backroom of the Shinra lab and CJ'd been so glad, so sure it was all over, that he, Eef, and Vincent would all get to go home. But that'd only been the beginning. And he hadn't gotten to go home since. Now there wasn't even a home to go home to. His bedroom, all of his stuff, everything was toast. A lump formed in his throat as he kept thinking about it. But he wouldn't cry, crying was for girls and wusses and he wasn't going to start any of that crap, it'd just make his mom feel worse.
        Reno cleared his throat, breaking the tension. Tifa looked up at him, desolation in her eyes. "When you're ready to do something about everything, when you're ready to get Cloud back, everyone's waiting in the inn for us."
        She stared at Reno dead on, looking for something in his face, wondering if his words were a trick, or a joke meant to hurt her. The ex-Turk fairly squirmed. He missed his shades. It made him uneasy as hell to know that someone was looking him in the eye, he always felt as though they were snatching pieces of his soul away. He didn't understand how people could possibly not see every hidden secret he had there, plain in his aqua-marine eyes. He needed those dark glasses, a barrier, to keep the violators at bay.
        "So what d'you say, Tifa?" he asked, blinking slowly, "You ready to get serious?"
        The woman sighed quietly, and then told herself that would be her last. Her last sigh. The tears she'd shed as she'd wandered Midgar, those would be her last too. No more of this wretched helplessness. She'd be the same strength now to Cloud as she'd been thirteen years before in Mideel. She'd get him back. For CJ, for Ifalna. And for herself.
        "Let's go."

        The afternoon light outside was bright as hell after the dimness of the musty tent. The blue rooves of Kalm glared down in stern reproach as Tifa stepped away from the thing, the canvas flap smacking her in the legs when she let it drop.
        "Geez. . . "
        Squinting against the sun, she glanced down to CJ who was eyeing their surroundings now in discomfort. Kalm was packed. The cobblestone streets were jammed full of chittering, squirming Midgar refugees. They flooded the place, spewed in and out of the stores and businesses like rabbits smoked out of their holes. Their shouts tumbled roughly in the air, and their elbows were unfriendly as Tifa pushed past them, CJ's hand tight in her own. Everywhere, people milled about, unsure what to do, who to complain to, who to see about the destruction of their city. They were waiting for Shinra to come, for Reeve to dictate their lives to them, but President Reeve was busy. They'd have to take care of themselves for a while.
        "Why don't all these losers just go home?" CJ growled, voice muffled, his face pressed between a lady's soft stomach and a guy's wide butt. He struggled for air as Tifa yanked him forward. She was fighting to keep Berk's blue suitjacket in view ahead of her. And losing the battle.
        What are all of these people going to do? she thought to herself as she trudged along, Where will they go? Tifa wished she could offer aid to them all, make up for what Cloud had done in his rage. These people all seemed so lost, so confused, so frightened. Guilt gnawed at her heart as she shoved through them, gripping her son's hand so tight he cried out. But Tifa figured the only thing she could do was keep it from happening again, to another city, to other innocent people. She'd stop Jenova's dark purposes once and for all.
        "Tifa! Over here!"
        Reno sounded just as irritated as CJ. Tifa spied him a few feet off, pressed against the side of a very familiar building. Pulling her son close, she pushed past a family just ahead of her and then ducked into the doorway of the place. She absently looked towards the sign on the door to see if the old Kalm Inn had any vacancies. Some idiot had written "In your dreams" on the paper there. Hmph.
        Berk held the door open for her as she entered the quaint old inn, then followed her and CJ in, locking up behind them. The place was just as Tifa remembered it inside. The warm muted colors of country decor, soft wooden floors, an old fashioned cash register on the counter. The very walls emanated calmness and order. It was a stark, startling contrast to the confusion and insanity of the streets outside. Her ears buzzed with the sudden silence.
        "Gives me deja vu, "she muttered to no one imparticular.
        "Me too, "a familiar voice called to her back and Tifa turned, seeing Nanaki standing at the base of a set of stairs leading up to the rooms. She smiled at him in fond recognition. "It was quite a drastic change from the fierce battles with Shinra in Midgar thirteen years ago. We all met here and heard quite a story. All that talk of pain and death inside such comforting, maternal walls. I wonder if this place remembers us."
        Tifa approached her friend, CJ on her heels, and the three of them exchanged greetings, the kid immediately taking off Nanaki's headdress and fiddling with it.
        "It probably does remember us, Red. It's probably scared that we're here." Tifa gave Nanaki's mane a friendly tug and he nuzzled the palm of her hand. He almost couldn't believe that she was standing there in front of him. He'd been so certain he'd never see her again.
        "What're you AVALANCE freaks muttering about? C'mon already, let's get this show on the road." Reno came forward from a side room, running his fingers through his hair, the innkeeper shouting curses to his back. "You'll get your money, man. I'm good for it, don't worry, "he called to the guy, "Damn, isn't Shinra credit good enough for ya?"
        "When there was a Midgar, when there was a Shinra, yeah, it was good enough!"
        "Hmph."
        Reno tugged at the cuff of Berk's jacket and gestured for the guy to head upstairs. The young Turk nodded and took off, limping a little with his wounded chest. Tifa watched him and after a moment asked, "What happened?"
        "Berkie got a lesson in Chaos Mathematics, "Reno answered with a smile, "One demon plus one Turk equals a big ouch." Nanaki eyed him darkly as the man fixed his jacket, trying to make himself look a little nicer after three days without a change of clothes or a shower. He didn't do a very good job.
        "Ha ha, "Nanaki growled, "I hardly think that's something to joke about, Reno."
        "You kiddin'? I've yet to come across any situation that ya can't eventually joke about, kitty cat. Everything's funny in the end."
        "Not everything. . . "Tifa murmered. She blinked hard, surveying the empty inn lobby, then asked, "But what're you talking about? What about Chaos?"
        "Oh, that's right, you were out wandering the town. . . "Reno sighed, leaning against the bannister, crossing his lanky arms, "Your buddy Valentine is sorta in the opposite position as your hubby. Cloud's got his body but not his head. Valentine's got his sanity but not his body. Or at least, I guess he's as sane as he ever was, but it isn't getting him anywhere. As near as Nanaki can figger out, he's-- "
        "Maybe I should attempt to explain, Reno, "Nanaki cut in, tail flickering in orange bursts of irritation. The ex-Turk shrugged and waved a hand carelessly.
        "The floor's yours."
        "Hmph. Thank you. Really, Tifa, it isn't very complicated. Those few days Vincent spent with Cloud in Professor Hojo's laboratory, the old man must have taken his mutations to a further level. He heightened his Chaos mutation, increased his powers drastically, and unleashed Chaos' personality, giving it free reign over the body it shares with Vincent. So now--"
        "Wait, wait, "Tifa shook her head, scratching her nose, "You're telling me that Chaos is in charge now?"
        "I believe so." Nanaki nodded soberly. "Vincent can't keep it caged. Jenova controls him by controlling that. . . monster."
        "I guess that makes sense, "Tifa said lowly, "I swore that I saw Chaos, or something like it, this morning in the lab. Heh. Nobody's getting a break here, are they?"
        "I wanna see Vincent as a monster!" CJ broke in, "I'll bet he looks wicked cool!"
        "Not really, kid. "Reno shook his head, remembering that thing that'd stood over Barret Wallace with bloody claws, razor wings, and solemn eyes, "Not really. I still haven't decided who's worse off. Him or Cloud. At least Cloud's convinced what he's doing is just. Valentine's stuck murdering when I'm sure he'd rather not be. Trapped in the body of a demon. Hell, is Jenova heartless or what? She's tearing two guys up without a qualm. Without a second thought. If that isn't evil, I don't know what is. Heh. Have you decided if "evil" is the proper word yet, kitty?"
        Nanaki scowled, tired of being addressed so mockingly, but answered, "I won't use such an unscientific word. Marlene would kill me. Though I do understand very well what you mean, Reno."
        The lobby was silent a moment as the four of them became lost in their thoughts. CJ wandered off and stared out the front window, still amazed at the throngs of people in the streets. Hundreds of voices filtered through the walls, drifting to his ears soft and muffled. He did think it felt kind of cool, kind of exclusive, to be in the Inn, the Shinra Inn, as though he was special or something. Definately better than fighting the crowds outside. He absently wondered where Britanny and Sliver, his two buddies from school, were and whether they were camped in Kalm somewhere or not. He wondered where stupid Ash was, that damned bully. He hoped his house in Sector One was still burning. He hoped his dad had smashed it good.
        "So, who's upstairs and what's the deal with this inn?" he heard his mom ask suddenly. CJ turned and strolled back to the group, unwilling to miss out on any of the conversation, though he didn't understand half of it.
        "Reeve secured the place when we first arrived, "Reno answered briskly, "He knew we'd need a place to plan and somewhere half-dignified for the Shinra heads to bunk. No matter how low the company's plunged the past few days, we have to keep our heads up and some degree of pride. Be grateful, most of the people out there'll be stuck sleeping on rocks in the fields tonight. I've already got soldiers out clearing away some of the more dangerous wildlife, to give the civilians space to spread their sheets."
        "Thoughtful of you, "Tifa muttered.
        "Hey, what do you want from me, blood? I'm doing my best ya know. . . damn."
        Tifa shook her head and put a hand to her brow, a finger rubbing one of her weary red eyes. "You're right, "she apologized, "I'm just on edge. Ignore me."
        "Marlene's upstairs, "Nanaki interrupted, eager to change the subject and avoid a fight. He could sense the delicate balance between Tifa and Reno. There was a damned lot of hostility there, he could feel it in the back of his teeth, "Elder Bugah too. Cid's talking to Shera on his video phone but he said he'd be here by five, and then there's Berk, you, me, and Reno."
        "What about Barret? And Reeve?"
        "Wallace is off wandering the city, "Reno snapped, "Marlene won't go back with him to Cosmo Canyon and he won't leave without her, so he's at an impass. I'm not sure what the hell his problem is but I don't have the patience to deal with his stubbornness, to be honest with ya. He just keeps saying he never meant to get involved in this. Well neither did I, neither did you, neither did puss-in-boots here. He needs to deal. As for Reeve, he's busy keeping Shinra in one piece. And raising his blood pressure to new heights. All the Department Heads are here and he's in a meeting with 'em downstairs. Suit convention, ya know? I think he feels he's appeased his obligation to his friends by going to hunt you down. Now he's got an obligation to his company to deal with. Typical Reeve logic."
        Tifa laughed softly to herself. "Efficient task managment, "she added, "I think he lives his life out of a pocket organizer."
        "Suppose he had "12:15pm-12:45pm :Rescue Tifa from a fiery death" written down there? "Reno asked, grinning. Tifa shrugged, grabbed the stair railing and began trudging up to the second floor. The ex-Turk watched her and sighed, shoving CJ before him up the stairs, then making sure Nanaki padded up there too, before ascending himself. He could hear the innkeeper still muttering things beneath his breath from the next room, cursing Shinra, cursing Reno, cursing the smouldering hole in the distance that used to be Midgar. Reno had been in that same frame of mind a few hours before. But he was through with the impotent cursing. He was ready to take control.

        The fields around Kalm that evening seemed like a refugee camp. Tents dotted the grassy stretches in a rainbow of colors. Sleeping bags lay in the dirt like curled worms, lonely lines of smoke from the campfires weren't really so lonely, not with hundreds of others besides to share the skies. The red glow of battery-operated heaters lit people up in garrish hues, made faces frightening, made the atmosphere surreal.
        Lenny walked the edges of the massive camp, his hands in his pockets, missing his bar. It was a Sunday night, ladies night. At least, it would've been. The barkeep ambled along with heavy steps, head turned to pick out the red-lit faces in the distance as people hunched over their heaters to fight the November cold. He blew his breath up, warm white against the sky-blue chill. He watched it rising, just as he had that morning, in the dark, as the Shinra towers had been struck down. He'd watched that beam from the sky and figured it was a messenger from heaven, a final judgement on a city that could never redeem itself, no matter how hard it tried. He'd watched the shadow stretch behind the building as it'd fallen, heard it crash, seen the dust, and then he'd fled and left the city of his birth to God. He could do whatever the hell He saw fit with it, it wasn't as though Lenny's small voice of protest made any difference. He knew that.
        Eyes still on the sky, Lenny noticed the rooves of Kalm suddenly jut into his vision as he entered the small town. It was a pretty place, he thought, he'd always wanted to visit, had even considered retiring there, he just wished his dream had been realized under better circumstances. Blinking wearily, the barkeep wandered into the center of the village, stepping over the people sleeping in the streets, careful to keep his footsteps light, unwilling to wake them, especially the children, after such a strange day. He spied a bare wall in the distance, just a few feet of uninhabited space, and made for it eagerly. The warm rock was soothing against his back as he set his body against it, the upraised stones of the wall were almost like hands rubbing at his spine and they made him sleepy. Eyes half-closed, he watched the buildings across the street and saw that the upper story windows of the Inn were still lit up. Rectangles of soft yellow against the blackish-blue sky and the muted brown of the building. He knew who was inside and had a good idea what they were discussing, what they'd been holed up in there talking about since that afternoon. People had been muttering of it all evening; Shinra and AVALANCE were working together. They were working to save the Planet. Their presence and the knowledge of their efforts hadn't really done much to alleviate the people's fears that day though. Nearly everyone that Lenny had talked to was convinced the jig was up for the human race. They doubted there was much the screwed-up heroes of thirteen years before and the failing remnants of the Shinra Electric Company could do now to stop it. Prolong the inevitable a bit, draw out the torture perhaps, but that was all. Lenny himself wasn't so sure. As he lay there, tired mind wandering aimlessly, eyes running over those lit windows of the inn, there was a small ray of hope in his heart. It was nothing more than a pale flashlight in the void of space, but it was there.
        It'll all work out, he told himself sleepily, The Planet'll get saved, the good guys'll come through, Shinra will build a new Midgar, and I'll open a new bar. I'll be there to get the survivors drunk during the victory party. I'm sure the heroes'll be needing a few stiff ones after takin' down whatever that thing was that totalled the city. Yeah. . . Lenny would be there to remind everyone how great a thing it was that they'd all survived. Heh.
        The barkeep fell asleep with a smile on his face, pouring drinks in his dreams.

        Eyes dark, Reno scowled, sitting in the blackest corner on the second floor of the Kalm Inn, watching the others in unease. Every few minutes he brought a bottle up to his lips and sucked at it. He wished Rude was there. He wished he had someone to exchange looks with as these assholes around him spouted their garbage to eachother. Reno wished he was a Turk again.
        "We cannot trust Sephiroth!"
        Tifa fairly shouted the words, clenching her fists and sitting forward in her chair.
        "You don't have to tell us that, Tifa, "Nanaki said in a soothing purr, "We're all well aware of what he was, what he is, and what he's capable of. But we're debating options and as ludicrous as it may sound, that Sephiroth summon is an option."
        "Option my ass, "Reno muttered from the corner, "We should smash that summon materia to dust right now, it'd make me feel a lot better."
        "No!" Marlene's hand shot to the pocket of her jeans protectively, "No, that'd be rash, "she added, trying to keep her voice even. She felt somehow protective of the little materia, "If the Planet has seen fit to bless us with a protector, I don't think we should go and "smash him to dust", do you? Even if we don't have any intentions of using him."
        "You didn't look too rational when you summoned him this morning, "Reno said darkly, "Are you sure you can keep possession of yourself enough not to repeat what ya did later on? Maybe we shouldn't let you hang on to that thing."
        Marlene scowled and huffily crossed her arms, sitting back against the headboard of the bed she'd claimed. She could feel the materia orb in her pocket, cutting into her hip. "It's mine, "she nearly hissed, "Elder Bugah gave it to me, he said the Planet finished it the day I arrived in Cosmo Canyon. It's mine. "
        "Okay then, "Reno said with a mirthless chuckle, "When you call the prick next time and he decides to kill all of us along with whatever he was summoned to take out, I'll be very forgiving. Hell, I'll even open my shirt up for him so he can get a clean stab at my heart."
        "That's enough, Mr. Reno, "Bugah called from across the room, "Marlene knows better than that, she won't summon him again. Right, Marlene?"
        "Yes, Elder. . ."
        "You knew how dangerous unidentified summons are, yet you used it today without a qualm, "Bugah rebuked, "But that's all right, you were lucky today. You saved us all. But never again, child, understood?"
        Marlene nodded her head, muttering things under her breath. Tifa gave her hand a pat and winked reassuringly. "From what I heard, you saved their asses, "she whispered, "The guys just don't want to admit it."
        Marlene laughed softly and threw Reno a vicious glare.
        "I know."
        "But I do think, after these past hours of discussion--"
        "Pointless discussion, "Reno cut in.         "But discussion nonetheless, "Bugah returned, "I think after hearing what each of us has to say, we agree that we cannot possibly use that materia again. Am I right?"
        There were nods from around the room. Those who'd seen Sephiroth that afternoon had been awed by him. But their fear of him far outweighed their amazement. Even Marlene and Berk weren't putting up any fuss about that.
        "Well, so that leaves us where we were, "Nanaki said calmly, "On our own."
        "And clueless, "Reno added bitterly.
        There was silence for a few minutes as each of them went over the facts in their weary minds. They'd been shut up in that room for hours, committed to coming up with a new plan of action, searching for answers amidst the tangled web of facts and speculations that each of them were aware of.
        "The plain simple fact of the matter is we need to figure out where Cloud and Vincent have gone to. That is, before we get a wire saying they've taken out Junon or something." Reno rubbed his rough chin in his bandaged right hand, swinging his whisky bottle around by the neck in his other. Swish, swish. "They may very well go systematically from city to city. We could probably follow the trail of bodies till it brings us to 'em. But I'd rather not do that, how 'bout you guys?"
        "No, sir. . . "Berk said softly, remembering the crushed forms he'd seen beneath the rubble of the Shinra building as he'd wandered the streets. They'd left grisly images in his young mind.
        "Where do you think Jenova would want to strike next?" Tifa asked thoughtfully. She wrapped an arm around her pulled-up legs and rested her chin on her knees, eyes distant. "Would she truly want to go about the destruction of us all in such a piecemeal fashion?"
        "Nah, "Reno said, leaning back, scratching at his hairline, "Unless she figgers it's more painful to us that way. Bitch."
        "She lacks the patience, "Nanaki disagreed, "Remember what Vincent said? She knows the Planet is using Sephiroth. He said she knew and wanted her aims achieved as quickly as possible."
        "Well, fine, how d'you think she'll do that?"
        Nanaki shrugged as best as he was able, and laid his head atop his paws, staring at a mousehole in the opposite wall. He felt a gloved hand suddenly grab at him from behind, hold his tail firmly between two fingers, and then let go. WIth a growl, he turned around and eyed Cid Highwind, who'd just finished lighting his cigarette off the end of his tail. The pilot took a thoughtful puff and rested his elbows on his updrawn knees, trying to get comfortable in his seat.
        "Don't do that, Cid. You know I hate when you do that. Where's that zippo I bought you for your birthday?"
        "I gave it to Shera when I forgot our anniversary. Sorry."
        "Hmph."
        "You're being awful quiet, Cid, "Tifa called from the bed, "Is everything okay? Ya walked in here a while ago and haven't said a word."
        "No, I'm fine, "the pilot said defensively, "You know how it is though, I leave this shit up to you guys. I'm just the flyboy. Tell me where ya wanna go, tell me who to stick Venus Gospel into, and I'll oblige."
        "Safer that way, eh?" Nanaki smirked, "That way you don't get blamed if the plan doesn't work, correct?"
        Cid winked at him and puffed away on his cigarette, half-shutting his eyes.
        "Ya know me too well, Red."
        "You don't think she'd have them summon Meteor again, do you?"
        The group looked up to Berk, who'd paled with the thought that'd suddenly popped into his mind. Tifa shook her head.
        "No Black Materia, thank god, "she reassured, "I don't see that happening."
        "And Cloud certainly doesn't have the power to call SuperNova on a scale large enough to engulf the Planet, "Bugah added, answering Berk's next question before the guy could even get it out.
        "But just what kinda power does he have. . ?"Reno mused. No one could give him an answer and the question only caused an uneasy silence to fall over the room.
        "We need to find him. . . we need to find them both."
        "Easier said than done, Elder Bugah, "Berk mumbled, "There've been no reports from anywhere of anyone seeing them. They could've both gone on holiday in Costa Del Sol for all we know."
        Silence again. Berk picked at his fingernails, stealing occasional glances at Marlene who eyed her own hands, deep in thought. She didn't look at all disturbed after the young Turk had snapped at her that afternoon. Hell, Berk thought bitterly, she's probably forgotten all about it. Why should anything I say stay with her? I don't mean crap, I may as well not even exist as far as she's concerned.
        "Why don't we just start flying around, scoutin' around, "Cid suggested suddenly, "I mean, we gotta come up with something eventually. They have to eventually make their move, right?"
        "You just want to get in the sky, Highwind, "Reno called, "We know all about you."
        Cid shrugged, adjusting his flight goggles with one hand. "Yeah, "he admitted carelessly, "The sky's got the best vantage point, no better place to be when you're lookin' for shit. Besides, if we don't do something soon, I'm gonna go insane. I want this garbage dealt with so I can get back to RocketTown. I have mayorial responsibilities I gotta deal with. Not ta mention marital ones."
        "Would be hard t'be mayor of a town that's been blasted to shit though, wouldn't it?" Reno asked with a grin.
        "Yeah, I'd guess so. That's why I'm still hanging around here with y'all. To keep that from happening. Now, do we take to the skies and start searching or what?"
        Crossing her arms, Tifa looked towards her friend and winked. "If we do, "she said, "It'll be your plan. And your fault if we don't come up with anything."
        Cid stood from his seat and stretched magnificiently, reaching towards the ceiling. He grabbed Venus Gospel and leaned on it, twirling the glittering pike in the dimness of the room, casting reflections of light onto the wooden walls. "I'll take the risk, "he said, "Besides, I get the feelin' that Cloud and Vince'll be lettin' us know where they are real soon."
        "But that's the thing, Cid, "Nanaki growled, "We want to find them before they've attacked again. We have to save Cloud and Vincent before there's nothing left to save."
        "What do you mean?"
        Nanaki shook his heavy head, strands of his mane falling into his eye. "I don't know, "he muttered, "But how much longer can Vincent last trapped in that horrible bloody monster? How much longer can Cloud go on thinking that his children are, are. . . I can't even say it. They're both suffering and it makes me uneasy to know it. It makes me fear for both of them. Makes me. . . think we'll never really get our friends back."
        Marlene reached her hand down and scratched Nanaki's ear, trying to comfort him. She wasn't very successful. "Maybe we should start thinking about our aims differently, "he continued, "Are we going out to save our comrades or to save the Planet and everyone living on it?"
        "Both, "Tifa answered quickly.
        "But. . . " Marlene lifted her head, looking at her friend with suddenly saddened eyes. She was seeing Nanaki's point. "But what if it comes down to a choice? I mean, it's a terrible thing to think of, but. . . so much of this has been terrible and it'll only get worse if we're not realistic about it. Tifa. . . "
        Reno jerked his gaze up, dropping his empty bottle on the floor. He saw Tifa struggling to answer the young woman's question and swallowed hard. "It ain't gonna come down to a choice, "he insisted, making them all look to him with startled eyes, "You hear me? We're gonna stop it before it has to come down to a choice. I don't want to hear any of you saying otherwise. Not a single fuckin' one of you, I won't have it!" He stood quickly and crouched there in the darkness of the corner, just daring one of them to disagree, to say another word about it, to toss more doom and gloom his way. No one would take the challenge. Reno ran a shaky hand through his tangled hair and sighed. He waved their stares off with his bandaged hand. "Now let's get airborne, "he muttered, heading towards the door. He caught Tifa's eye as he went and she threw him a grateful smile. After considering it for a moment, he smiled back. The door to the stairs closed behind him with a bang.
        "Bossy bastard, isn't he?" Cid commented, tapping the shaft of his weapon against his boot impatiently.
        Tifa stood, planting two firm, but weary booted feet on the floor. She looked to Cid with an expression that the old pilot couldn't interpret. "Leave him alone, Cid, "she said softly, "He's just as frustrated as the rest of us, is all."
        "I suppose so. Damn, anyone given any thought to just what we're gonna do when we catch up with our two little psychopaths? We keep talking about how to find them, but what's up when we do?"
        Marlene stood from the bed and tucked stray strands of auburn hair back behind her ears. She shrugged. "Isn't it obvious? We'll prove to Uncle Cloud that CJ and Ifalna are fine. He'll snap out of it, Jenova will lose the advantage she has over his will, and that'll be that."
        "Sounds pretty simple, "Cid commented skeptically.
        "Who says things have to be complex? Sometimes the most painful things are the simplest. That's the sort of problem Cloud has right now. And it takes a simple solution to clear it up."
        "Yeah. . . "
        "But we must be very careful, "Nanaki warned, rising to his four feet, "I don't doubt that Jenova is anticipating our interference. She'll do all she can to keep Cloud and Vincent close to her, under her control. We can't underestimate her."
        "Yeah, if nothin' else, I learned that from Star Wars, "Cid said with a laugh, "Never underestimate the power of the darkside. Heh. George Lucas is a profound man."
        "Cid. . . "Tifa gave her friend a glare, "Don't start."
        Cid punched her chummily in the shoulder and made for the door, whistling the Cantina theme, doing a little lightsaber twirl with Venus Gospel. Marlene watched him go, scratching her head.
        "Is he some sort of Star Wars nerd or something?" she asked and Tifa shrugged, laughing a little.
        "Shera told me his first plane was named Millenium Falcon. Go figure. C'mon and help me load the kids into the HighWind. They're sleeping downstairs with Barret and I'd rather not wake them up. They haven't gotten enough sleep lately."
        "No one has, "Berk mumbled before he was out the door after Reno. Marlene shot him an evil look but he was gone before it could smack into him. Sighing from the depths of her being, she followed Tifa and Nanaki as they made their way down the rickety wooden staircase of the inn, half-tempted to go find Barret and make him take her home. Things outside of Cosmo Canyon were just too damned confusing. And unscientific.

        The moon was grinning like a cocky kid excited over a fresh prank. A crescent of pale white, it hung suspended over the ocean, watching its wavering reflection in the water smiling back.
        Chieko eyed it, unblinking.
        Cold as ice, sea-air bit at her flesh through her fur, the wind blasted it in her sensitive brown eyes but she kept staring out at the white moon, fixated on its glow, her tail swishing back and forth like a thoughtful cat's. She was waiting for that eye in the sky to blink. She was convinced it had to eventually. She wouldn't let her own eyes close until it did, fearful of missing it.
        "I'm bored, Chieko."
        Cait Sith sprawled in the sand, picking bits of grass out of his synthetic fur. The both of them were nestled into a depression in a rock wall, something almost like a cave but it only went five or so feet in. The solid stone wall it resided in was nothing more than a cliff stretching nearly three hundred feet skywards. Cait could feel the height pressing against his small body as he leaned against it. All three hundred feet glared at him. He would have glared back but he was concentrating on other things.
        Drawing his furry little knees up under his chin, the robotic cat sighed, trying to look sincerely bored. He couldn't really get bored, he was a robot with emotions dictated to him through delicate sensors and lines of programming code, but he tried his damnedest anyways. He needed a convincing front to keep Chieko from getting too nosy. He couldn't let the great beast look at him too closely. He had a foot long antennae reaching out of the top of his head.
        "So, Chieko. . . "he piped, voice loud against the dead stillness of the air, "Er, tell me about yourself. Or something."
        "Shut up, little thing. Don't talk to me."
        "Oh. Ah. Okay."
        Chieko growled softly to herself, a reverberating hum deep in her throat, and Cait backed off a little, huddling against the base of the cliffs. Placing his little gloved paws in his lap, he swiveled his head to look up and down the length of the white beach spread before them. The sands glimmered like sugar under the pale moonlight, it all looked like new snow. But it was too empty. It made the little cat nervous. Where were Cloud and Vincent? Chieko had told him when they'd arrived at this beach that it was a meeting place, a place where they'd all regroup. Where were his friends then? He didn't care that Chieko told him they weren't his friends anymore, Cait still wanted to see them. He needed reassurance that someone was still alive on the Planet. After watching Midgar get turned into Texas toast, the little cat wasn't so sure about anybody. Maybe he'd been the only one of the old group to escape the city alive. He surely hoped that wasn't the case. Not being programmed to fight anymore, he knew he wouldn't be much good at saving the Planet. He needed help to fight this Chieko monster. To fight the Jenova that she was always muttering about.
        He surveyed the beach again. Nothin'. Just sand, water, and the stupid, grinning moon. Tail flickering, Cait backed up closer to the wall and raised his antennae just an inch more, so it was totally stretched from the socket. He was starting to get desperate now. Why wouldn't he answer?
        "I didn't know this was here. . . "
        "What?"
        Cait looked up at the sound of Chieko's raspy voice. The beast was still glaring out over the ocean.
        "All of. . . this. This beauty."
        "What d'ya mean, furbag?"
        "Nothing." Chieko finally turned from the moon and watched her paws with tired brown eyes, trying to blink her weariness, her doubts, away. Why did Jenova want to destroy something so beautiful? She just didn't understand. But Chieko could lose herself in that one fact: she didn't understand. Jenova knew more than she did, Hojo had known more than she did and that was why Chieko always did as they told her. They knew more. Who was she to argue against Jenova's infinite wisdom? If she said all of this, this shimmering water, and salty air, all of this opalescent light, the smiling moon. . . if Jenova said it needed to be obliterated, Chieko would blow it all away without a qualm. She would. She told herself she would.
        "There must be worse things, bad things that I haven't seen that outweigh all of this prettiness, "she muttered, "I just don't know about it while she does, that's all. It's the humans on the Planet, they're what make all of this not worth it. It has to go because of them. Maybe it's sort of like, like, cutting our nose to spite our face but. . . but how can we stay here among the filth that is the human race? Regardless of the beauty we surround ourselves in? It just isn't worth it. I understand that, mother. The beauty isn't worth the pain. So we'll destroy it all in one go and spare the entire Planet and everything alive on it, that pain. I understand."
        "Well I don't, "Cait snapped, sitting up a little, trying to expose the sliver of his antenna to more of the open space, praying that his signal was getting through, "What're you babblin' 'bout?"
        The little cat eyed his captor impatiently as she turned her heavy head away from the sky and huddled further into the small cave. Cait thought the fur around her eyes looked a little damp, but it could've very well been from the sea spray and he didn't take it seriously. Bad guys don't cry, he told himself. Tears from Chieko just wouldn't compute.

        "And that, gentlemen, Mr. President, is the situation."
        Sloan, Shinra's head of budget and finances, sat down. He laid his folder on the smooth surface of the conference table in front of him, then rested his hands on the top of the files, weaving his thin, white fingers together. An uncomfortable pause was now following his thorough report of Shinra's monetary situation. You could cut the unease in the air with a knife.
        "The reserves. . . "
        "Spent, "Sloan answered.
        "The stocks we have on the oil in Mideel. . . "
        "We sell now and perhaps we can make it until the end of the month before we have to file."
        "The. . . the taxes from our land to the south, how--"
        "Pennies we can toss into the pool, sir, but that's all."
        Reeve looked at Sloan with wide eyes, his knuckles pressed tight against his mouth.
        "Shit."
        "Yes, sir, that about sums it up."
        President Reeve took his hand from his lips and laid it on the table, staring at his fingernails, picking at his cuticles. The room seemed suddenly very cold. He wished the innkeeper would turn the damned heat up. "So we're bankrupt, is what you're telling me, Mr. Sloan. Well, I suppose that was to be expected. The city and the taxes that were the bulk of our income are no longer in existance, and the building that housed our development labs, our technology, well, it isn't around anymore either."
        "Not to mention the lawsuits. . . " Nevilleson, Shinra head of the Legal Department added.
        "Yes, we can't go and forget the lawsuits now, can we?" Reeve asked with a maniacal grin, "The god damned fire on the friggin baked Alaska, they are! Well!"
        The room was silent as Reeve sat in his expansive leather chair, frowning and smiling erratically. He was losing it. He looked to the faces of each of his Department Heads. Nine men seated at the table before him, their eyes looking anywhere but towards his. Sloan finally spoke up.
        "Sir, we need orders. Do I begin to file for bankruptcy? Shall I wait? We'll have to stop services to Junon and Kalm, sir. We need to act."
        "Yes, Mr. Sloan, I'm aware. And god knows you can't act without me."
        "You are the President, er, Mr. President."
        Reeve gave Sloan a dirty look at those words, hating him for pointing the fact out. Unable to help himself, he slammed his two bony elbows on the table and laid his head in his hands, fingers curling up and weaving his wild black hair between them. He hated to look so unhinged in front of his empoyees, it went against what his frigging title stood for, but Reeve just couldn't help it anymore. Everything was gone, or on its way out the door. He didn't have anything left but the consequences of another man's actions. He heard the people around him calling his name, calling that mocking title out to him, hoping he'd respond to it, but the plain fact of the matter was, Reeve didn't want to answer to "Mr. President" anymore. He just didn't want to deal with it.
        With a groan, he made himself look up and face the questioning glances. Taking a deep breath, he looked Sloan right in the eye and the accountant returned the stare, expecting some amazing revelation to spring from his employer's mouth.
        "We're going to follow the advice of Mr. Reno, "he said calmly, "Head of Security in lieu of Mr. Strife's absence. Mr. Reno has turned out to be quite efficient at problem solving."
        "Oh." Sloan blinked in surprise, unaware that the cocky, loud-mouthed, fiery-haired Security Head was so influential. "What advice would that be, Mr. President?"
        Reeve stood from his chair and jabbed his hands in his pockets. "Fuck it."
        Sloan sat there blinking harder as Reeve headed for the door, shoulders up around his ears. "But seriously, "he called as he retreated, "I recommend you all get good lawyers. And lay low for a while. We'll resurface after the immediate threat is taken care of."
        "And where will you be, sir?" called Visbotwich, Electrical Head.
        "I'll be taking care of the immediate threat, of course. Meeting adjourned."
        Reeve slammed the basement door shut behind him and climbed the short flight of stairs up to the lobby of the inn quickly. He was surprised to see the lights off upstairs. A glance at his wristwatch told him just how long he'd been down there chewing the fat with his moronic employees. The darkness of ten pm stretched around him, sapped at his energy though it wasn't anything near his bedtime.
        But stress'll do that to ya, he thought blankly. Yeah, a week of having the gods shit down your neck will definately do that to ya. Crossing the lobby with heavy steps, Reeve ran a hand up over his face and rubbed at his chin, rubbed at his eyes, brushed his hair out of his vision. It was so quiet, but that was making him nervous. It let him hear his own thoughts much too clearly.
        After all that nonsense with the company, Reeve decided he needed to spend an hour or two with Reno. Reno's nonsense was fun. And he'd definately have some form of alchohol on him. Reeve needed a drink. A big one. Shinra's final plummet into utter bankruptcy called for a few bottles of Chocobo Billy's moonshine. He'd mark the occasion in style.
        "Hey there."
        Reeve jumped a foot in the air as a soft voice hallooed him from the till. He looked over and saw Tifa perched on the counter, her knees pulled up to her chin. He gave her a smile and stepped towards her, glad to hear a friendly voice break the stillness of the air.
        "Hey, how ya feelin'?"
        "Better, thanks. How did your meeting go?"
        "I don't want to talk about it. But thanks for asking."
        "That bad?" Tifa cocked her head to one side, trying to smile. What she wound up with was more like a grimace. But Reeve appreciated the effort.
        "It'll turn out okay, "he said reassuringly, "It can only go up from here, I'm pretty sure we've hit rock bottom."
        "Until the bottom falls out and we discover a black hole, "Tifa corrected.
        "Heh. True." Reeve leaned back against the counter beside her and crossed his arms, eyes straying towards the stars outside the Inn's front window, "You guys come up with anything productive during your pow-wow upstairs?"
        "Somewhat. We'll be leaving in the morning to begin searching for Cloud and Vincent. There's a short, or something, something stupid with one of the engines in the HighWind and Cid's looking at it now or we'd've left already."
        "Are you sure you're okay with this?"
        "With what?" Tifa eyed him quizzically, expression cool. He shrugged.
        "I don't know what I mean, really, "he answered softly, "You just seem so well composed all of a sudden. You're not forcing it on yourself, are you? You can be a raving lunatic if you want to, don't let us stop ya. You have every right."
        "No, it's all right. I won't be pulling any more guns on you, or running off into any more buildings, I promise. Heh. I think. . . I think I've finally accepted that the only way I'm going to repair all of this, is with my own two hands. I'm ready to take up the challenge, Reeve. I won't cry anymore, I won't sit in the rain and cry out the futility of everything we try. I want to be the one to free Cloud from, from her. I want to be there when he realizes it's all going to be okay." Tifa smiled to herself, staring off into the darkness, "I have to be strong if I'm going to help him. I realize that now. Strength is love."
        Reeve couldn't help himself. He reached over and gave Tifa a hug, a big squishy warm hug around the shoulders. She blinked in surprise for a moment, then returned it, laughing softly.
        "Well if that's the case, "the Shinra President said, "You're frigging Arnold Schwartznegger. Ya big lug."
        Tifa gave him a last squeeze, then pulled away. Her right hand lingered on the pocket of his sportscoat though.
        "Hey, "she whispered, "You're shakin'."
        "Huh?"
        Reeve reached down into his pocket and pulled out his PHS. "Stupid thing, "he muttered, "I turned the ringer off for the meeting but I always miss the vibrate thing. Reeve here."
        "Reeve! Reeve, Reeve, Reeve, Reeve!! Reeeeeve!!!"
        "Hey now, that's my name, you were right the first time. Who the hell is this?"
        "It's me!! Meeee!!!"
        "Damn, tell him to turn down the volume, I can hear it from here, "Tifa said, adjusting to a more comfortable position on the counter. She looked up suddenly. "Wait. . . that's not. . . "
        "It is! "Reeve exclaimed, breaking into a grin, "Cait Sith, you old bundle of fur and toaster parts! I thought you'd be a smudge of black in Sector One! Where are you?"
        "I'm not sure, Reeve. I'm really scared!"
        "Hold on there, buddy, it's all right. Why do you sound so muffled? Are you using your internal speakers?" Reeve shot Tifa a confused glance and the woman shrugged, feeling a little bad that she hadn't paid more attention to Cait during the whole affair the past few days. But he was just a robot, as real as he sometimes seemed to be.
        "I can't talk out loud, Reeve, I'm scared to. Chieko might hear me!"
        "Chieko?" Reeve asked, startled.
        "Chieko?" Tifa echoed, trying to snatch the phone away.
        "Yeah, Chieko! That red thingie with teeth and big claws and wings! She left moogle there to burn in Midgar and took me away with her to find Cloud and Vincent! She keeps talking to thin air, and talkin' about Jenova. Jenova's dead, ain't she? I thought you guys took care of her!"
        "Aw, man. . . " Reeve leaned back againt the nearest wall, one hand to his head, shutting his eyes and turning up to the ceiling in supplication, "Cait, your circuits are in need of updating. You're outdated, kitty. Tell me where you are."
        "Um. . . " There was a pause on the phone. Reeve could hear his robot's gears ticking furiously, "Um, I'm uh, here, I guess. A beach? Yeah, a beach."
        "You can't be any more specific?" the man demanded in tight frustration. Tifa patted his shoulder comfortingly.
        "Um. No. Sorry. There's some sand here and water. I think it's the ocean, if that helps."
        "Doesn't he have a tracker or something, Reeve?" Tifa asked, tugging his sleeve to get his attention. The President's dark eyes lit up with the fire of realization and he grinned hard.
        "Yeah. . . hey Cait, password: Wombat459, user: Reeve, execute pro--"
        "Access denied."
        "What?" Reeve smacked his PHS as though it were misbehaving, "What do you mean access denied, ya little furball? I've used that same password since I was a kid, what're you-- ?"
        "Reeve. . . " Tifa called her friend's name patiently, trying to keep her voice calm despite the sudden excitement. She was having a hard time keeping from jumping up and down like a cheerleader. She was getting closer to Cloud, fate was helping her out. Helping in the form of a robotic cat, but Tifa wasn't going to be particular. Saviors came in all shapes and sizes. "Reeve, he's not yours anymore, remember?"
        "Huh?" Reeve snapped around and eyed her in confusion. Then it hit him. "Oh yeah, he's you guys' now. Heh. Cid reprogrammed him, right? What did you and Cloud give him as a password? I need to access his navigational software. Launching programs like that requires his operating password. So uh, give it up."
        "Access de--"
        "Yeah, shut up, Cait. C'mon, what is it, Tifa?"
        Tifa blushed for a moment and turned away to stare at the wall. She'd never had any idea she'd have to one day give out her children's nanny's programming password. She'd never thought it would be important, never thought that anyone besides themselves would ever have need of Cait Sith again. Sighing profoundly, Tifa muttered the words.
        "What? Didn't hear ya."
        "Orthopedic underwear! Gods, Reeve, get your hearing checked."
        Reeve stared for a moment as Tifa turned thirty shades of chartrueuse. He blinked. "Ortho--"
        "Shut up!"
        "Well, I'm going to have to say it to Cait!" he snapped, a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. Tifa and Cloud had some kinky little fettishes he just didn't want to know anything about. He cleared his throat and said the two words into the PHS, then started laughing despite his best efforts not to as Cait began spewing technobabble into his ear.
"        Oh. . . five-hundred mile radius, "he answered his robot inbetween chuckles, "Enter. 7.89 pps. Confirm. Enter. Launch. Log out user Reeve. Launch IA, standard mode. Cait, ya there, pal?"
        After a moment or two of fuzz, the cat's squeeky little voice piped into Reeve's ear again and the President grinned wide, entire stormclouds lifting off his brow. Something was actually working out.
        "Reeve, you're comin' ta help me, right? I'm so worried, Chieko is so big and she flies really high and shakes me around a lot and, and, and. . . oh, I miss my moogle!"
        "Calm down, calm down, Cait, we're going to follow your signal in the HighWind and we'll be there in no time. Now listen to me, buddy. Are Cloud and Vincent there with you?"
        Tifa looked up at the names, watching Reeve's face as he listened to Cait.
        "I dunno, Reeve, "the little cat answered piteously, "Chieko says they are, she said we were here to reunite, but I haven't seen them. There's a big cliff behind me, really high. I think maybe they're up there but I dunno really. Oh, and we're headed north, Reeve."
        "What?"
        "Chieko says that her mom says we're goin' north."
        "That's kinda vague, isn't it, "Reeve mused, rubbing at his rough chin, "But then again, not really. Not when we consider who we're dealing with. If you're moving north and you're at a beach now, ya must be at the shore of the Eastern Continent. You can't go too much further north. Unless. . . "
        Reeve looked up to Tifa who eyed him right back, features drawn. She frowned deeply, eyes softening with hurt and suppressed tears. Reeve broke the staring and let her look away, sensing that she wanted to cry.
        "Unless she's heading for the Crater, "he finished quietly. "I hope her only reason for that is nostalgia's sake. I don't know what's there that she'd want, what her purpose for returning there would be. Returning there with her new disciples. . . son of a bitch. . . "
        "Ooh, Reeve, don't swear."
        "Sorry, Cait, "the Shinra President apologized absently, "You hold tight, all right? We're on our way. If anything drastic happens, you call me, but only if it's important. I don't want that Chieko thing figuring out that we can communicate, it could be dangerous for you."
        "But I'm just a robot!"
        "No, you're CJ and Ifalna's nanny now, "he corrected with a smile, "And they miss ya, furball. So be safe."
        "Okay. Thanks, Reeve!"
        "Yeah. Remember what I said. Bye."
        "Bye!"
        Reeve clicked the little grey PHS shut and dropped it in his pocket thoughtfully. He was glad as hell for the lead, for his chance to prove useful to his friends and to their aims, but at the same time he was suddenly scared. Suddenly bloody terrified. It was a strange feeling that left him with a dry mouth. He took a deep breath, his heart racing in his chest for some reason, then folded his arms and leaned heavily against the sharp edge of the counter, beside Tifa.
        "How long is Cid going to be checking the engine?" he asked, shattering the brief quiet. Tifa looked up and forced herself to smile, pushing away the terrible thoughts that had been raging in her head. North. North. That word held the potential to terrify her. Still smiling, a weak, washed out lie of a smile, Tifa slid herself off the counter and stood on two firm feet, looking up at her friend.
        "I don't know, "she answered with steely cheeriness, "But too long. I'm going to go and pester him. He'll work faster knowing we have a lead."
        "More than a lead, honey, "Reeve said, observing her composure skeptically, "Cait's beacon will send out bursts of signal that we can pick up with the HighWind's homing equipment. As long as Cid hasn't gone and changed his hardware since last I was aboard, Cait can lead us right to him. Looks like the fates are smiling upon us at last, eh?"
        Tifa's attitude cracked for just a moment and her brows lowered a fraction. "I don't know, "she whispered, "I'm still waiting for the black hole. . . but I'm trying not to think about it. Heh. Thank the gods for their smile, eh?"
        Reeve shook his head lightly. "No, thank the gods for talking, robotic cats."
        "Hhm. Well, I'm off to the HighWind." Tifa gave her friend a parting pat on the shoulder then took off briskly for the front door of the quiet inn, careful to keep her treads muted and not awaken the Shinra execs or her slumbering comrades.
        "You don't have to keep up this front, Tifa, "Reeve called softly to her, "You can worry, you can cry, you can scream, you can threaten, if you want."
        Tifa paused and looked back. There was a thoughtful glint in her rusty brown eyes. The starlight from the front window reflected in her pupils and she blinked it away. "No, "she said slowly, "I think I like it better this way. I think Reno called it, what, flaming optimism? I called it naivete. But it doesn't matter what you want to label it. It's a lot easier to keep telling myself that we'll get to Cloud and Vincent before the word "North" ever lives up to the connotations. Don't you agree?"
        Reeve grinned and nodded, suddenly tempted to hug Tifa again. This was the woman he was friends with. This was who he loved to get into long conversations with, she and Cloud were the reasons he loved to get himself invited over to the Strifes for dinner whenever possible. This was Tifa LockHeart. That other woman, the broken one, the one who'd had nothing to lean on, was gone. Tifa had her children and her hope back and she'd returned with them. He wasn't sure where the latter had been hiding itself, but he was certainly glad it'd reappeared. This sudden resurrection made the Shinra President's heart swell.
        "Tell Cid to get the homing equipment set up, "he whispered, "I'll gather up the troops and meet you out there."
        "Aye aye, Prez."
        Tifa smiled up at him, he smiled back, and they shared a look of mutual respect and understanding. The inn door closed behind Tifa softly on her way out.
        Screw you, Planet, Reeve cackled mentally as he turned and made his way to the side parlor of the inn, a cocky smirk plastered on his dark, unshaven face. And screw you, Jenova. Chalk one up for humanity, cause we're comin' to get our guys back.

        Berk sat in the dark parlor, eyes closed. His wiry frame was pressed comfortably into the soft cushions of a leather armchair. Black, warm peacefulness spread out about him. The parlor was empty. It was so blissfully, gloriously empty that Berk nearly laughed out loud. Dark, quiet and empty.
        Three hours in three days. This fact had the young Turk grimacing through his chuckles. He'd had three hours of sleep in three days. Two short hours in Marlene's apartment the night before, and a brief nap in Wall Market on a bench in a park the night before that. Three measley pathetic, laughable hours in three long, bastardly, tiring days. The numbers added up and Berk didn't like the sum. He was a frigging Turk, not a college student. He'd stayed away from college specifically for that reason. He liked sleep. Sleep was good.
        Aw, man, his eyelids felt like a coupla sumo wrestlers were hanging off of them. They slid slowly down over his dark green eyes and the warm blackness pressed on him like a blanket, tucking him in. Oh, that's it, they were closed. His poor tired eyes were all covered up. Here it came, the reward for his diligance, for keeping his charges alive after the Shinra building had fell that afternoon, for putting up with Barret Wallace, for getting his back and chest torn to shreads by Chaos, here it came, the main event. .!
        Marlene Wallace's lips.
        Oh, shit. Now that wasn't what he'd been expecting. But there they were. Berk irritably shoved the pleasing, if unwanted image out of his head and searched again for sleep.
        Leave me alone! he muttered to himself, I'll screw with you later, Marlene! Scram!
        But her face stayed there, looking reproachful and sad. Berk's bloodshot eyes snapped open and his conscience's claws came out.
        Ya shouldn'ta said that stuff to her in the tent this afternoon, the little voice accused, It's not her fault that you're such a loser she can't notice you. It's your fault for being a loser to begin with. You're a loser, Berkie, the big L. La-hoo-za-hur. Loser.
        Yeah, that's nice. I don't care what that chick thinks anyway. I don't care about someone who's such a pain in the ass. I'm not going to climb any ladders for any girl. And Marlene's a frigging firetruck when it comes to ladders. Her dad, her job, her brain, her attitude. Toss Neto in there and her freaky Sephiroth summon and suddenly you've got the most unapproachable girl on the Planet. You can have her, she ain't worth the trouble.
        A