The Fifth Act, Chapter 29
Title: The Fifth Act
Rating: T for violence.
Summary: FFVII Time-travel. Gen. Cloud has an accident with a Time Materia.
Author's Note: Lots of new faces popping out of the woodwork in the comments, I clearly need to thank a mystery somebody for a rec.
Previous Chapter
__________________
The Fifth Act
Chapter 29
__________________
Three hours.
Two days.
A week.
Cloud stumbled into the bars of the cage, gasping for breath. His vision swam, and he closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for his equilibrium to re-establish.
“Error of point two percent,” the emotionless voice crackled through the speakers. “Subject is conscious, and appears normal.”
“We’re ready to move to the next stage, then.” Hojo’s unmistakable tones came from the background. “Are the numbers prepared?”
“Yes Professor.”
“Set it up now then.”
The viewing room fluttered with activity as the scientists moved into action, making adjustments, checking and double-checking every step. Two entered the room to fiddle with the materia stands, and then retreated to safety once more. Cloud watched, silent and resigned. He wouldn’t get a break yet. He never got a break anymore. Not even a few hours to sleep…
Caged. Trapped. Unable to do anything other than just stand there as Hojo yanked him through time, discovering the limits of his new toy.
“Power levels rising. Seventy percent… eighty percent… ninety percent…”
His vision began to blur, but when he blinked, everything gained a sense of hyper-reality. The edges of the bars seemed unusually defined - tiny details his eyes would normally skip over stood out in sharp relief. His skin tingled with energy. Something about the sensation felt familiar, yet alien at the same time.
Every breath seemed painfully slow. His gaze darted to the observation window. Most of the scientists were monitoring their screens, shoulders and necks hunched in their concentration, with only a few having glanced up to watch the moment of the jump. Except Hojo. Hojo always stared directly at him, eyes half-lidded, cold, calculating, expecting.
He wasn’t blinking.
Nobody was. They didn’t even look like they were breathing.
Then, all at once, everything sped up. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut, dizzied by the shift as the scientists all suddenly moved as one, freed some their frozen status. A fuzz of garbled words spilled from the speakers, the assistants trying to talk over each other in their confusion.
Not a moment later, the door slammed open, and Hojo himself entered the chamber, dogged by a nervous underling, and headed straight for the nearest stand. He removed the materia, inspected it, then returned it to its slot and began checking the wires and adjusting the gauges, muttering to himself all the while.
“A compressed Haste spell effect… power must have fallen short… a mistake in the equation…” Cloud watched him with steely blue eyes, waiting for him to step within arm’s reach of the cage. He never did, of course. Hojo knew to keep anything and everything far enough away.
It must have been a failed jump, if the scientist came in to check over the equipment personally. That hadn’t happened for a while.
It never made a difference. They simply fiddled with the numbers, and then it started all over again. He didn’t know why. Surely they had enough data to stop with the tests by now. What more did they hope to learn?
“Increase the power output by six percent,” Hojo decided. The assistant jumped to it, eyeing the caged SOLDIER all the while. Cloud watched him with a dull expression. Having read some of the reports strewn about the mansion in his own time, he already knew the futility of trying to gain sympathy from the Professor’s underlings. The most sympathetic of the lot had ranted his life woes to them while they floated in mako, unable to respond, or in his case, even comprehend.
And people thought he was crazy.
Eventually, Hojo was satisfied, and the pair left the chamber again, the lonely clang of the door echoing like a tolling bell.
“Restart the procedure cold,” Hojo ordered as he reappeared in view on the other side of the glass.
“Yes sir.” Another flurry of activity. “Begin recording. Initiating test. Power levels rising. Sixty percent… seventy percent…”
It had become a familiar process by now. The ear-splitting whine, the smearing colours, Ribbon burning, the breath knocked from his lungs-
Cloud choked, squeezing his eyes shut as he slammed into the cold, gritty floor. His head throbbed, but he clung to consciousness with the stubbornness of an adamantoise.
Then, something different.
A faint sound of surprise.
“Professor! Subject has re-appeared prematurely! Seven percent error! Code red! Security alert!”
Warning lights washed his vision crimson. Cloud blinked, trying to make sense of the blurry shapes taking form in front of him. One of them an indistinct white and black shape that seemed oddly familiar… And next to him, bars. But not in front of him, where he expected them to be.
“Guards!” That reedy, nasal tone ordered. “Restrain the specimen!”
Somehow, he was outside of the cage.
He was outside of the cage, and Hojo was there with him.
He moved entirely on instinct. Cloud lurched to his feet in an instant, even as the white blob of the lab coat rushed to the solid grey of the iron doors. In one swift move, he caught the scientist by the neck and slammed him against the wall.
His vision caught up at that moment - came into sharp definition as he took in the dark, terrified eyes and cracked glasses, knocked askew. He could see the sweat beading on Hojo’s brow, the way his thin, pale lips stretched as he gasped for air.
“Where is Jenova?” he growled. He could feel the scientist’s pulse race beneath his fingers.
“The gas-” Hojo wheezed.
Cloud tightened his grip. “Where is she?”
Hojo gurgled. Distantly, he became aware of a faint hissing, but his attention remained firmly fixed on the scientist clawing at his arm, turning white in the face. Finally, he had Hojo squirming in his grasp. A little more pressure, a twist of the wrist, and he could break his neck.
His vision was starting to blur again. Cloud frowned, and wavered on his feet. Only then did he register the sickly sweet scent filling his nostrils.
The gas.
The door slammed open, and guards wearing masks and carrying syringes rushed in. Cloud snarled and slammed the professor against the wall again, willing his fingers to clench, but the strength was beginning to flee his body, numbness creeping in from his fingertips and toes. His grip slackened, and Hojo began to wheeze.
No, he had Hojo right here-
Heavy hands tried to wrench him away, to free the professor, but Cloud dug his heels in, refusing to budge. He focused, tightening his grip through strength of will alone, until Hojo’s eyes began to widen, and instead of white he began to turn blue.
Then he jerked as a sharp, blindingly powerful jolt zapped through his body. Hojo dropped to the ground, gasping, dragged away by the masked troopers. Cloud threw a blind punch, staggered after the escaping scientist, but the gas was catching up with him, and he stumbled, and fell, fingers still twitching from the bite of the electro rod.
He was pressed to the ground, boots on his forearms, on his back, hands forcing his head to the ground. Stubborn, Cloud closed his eyes and held his breath, hoping to fool them into relenting, just long enough to get up, to get up and out that open door, but it was too late - he’d breathed too much in when he’d been distracted with Hojo. Sluggishly, consciousness receded, and tense muscles relaxed against his will.
Failure. Hojo, right in his grasp… and he hadn’t managed to kill him. Hadn’t even managed to find out anything about Jenova. He might have ruined everything.
The opportunity, lost. Should have snapped Hojo’s neck immediately. Would a broken neck be enough, though? Had Hojo injected himself with Jenova cells yet?
He couldn’t hold onto the thought - it slipped away like smoke. Distantly, he could feel himself being dragged - could feel the grit of the floor being replaced with the cold steel of the cage, hear the resounding slam of the barred doors. Then, the footsteps walking away, the dying hiss as the gas stopped, the lights flicking off, and Hojo’s hoarse complaints crackling faintly across the speakers.
At last, sleep. Even if only for a precious few hours…
………………..
Leather creaked as Sephiroth clenched his fists. It had been a satisfying dream, for a moment - his hand wrapped around his father’s throat, watching his face pale and fear colour that dark gaze instead of cold calculation and analysis. But it had all ended too quickly, and dissolved once more into confusing, nonsensical hallucinations, of burning villages and seas of mako and distant gunfire.
They’d become infrequent, of late - it had been over a fortnight since the last one. They never failed to wake him early, however, rattled, disoriented, and more tired than before he went to sleep.
“Sephiroth!” Genesis’s sharp pronouncement tore his attention away from the window - he’d been staring at the ragged feather caught on the edge of the window, lost in thought. An unforgivable lapse of attention. There had been too many of those, of late.
“Glad you could make it, Zack,” he greeted smoothly, avoiding acknowledging his distraction. Truthfully, he had no recollection of the Second Class arriving.
Zack gave a short wave, but Genesis would not be deterred, studying him intently. “You look tired.” Accusation lay nested in his words.
“It’s not degradation,” Sephiroth assured him for what felt like the hundredth time. It very well may have been. “You yourself implied that I was made differently.”
Genesis’s gaze slid away at that. Sephiroth couldn’t bring himself to feel pleased at the small victory, for the matter was one he did not feel had been answered satisfactorily. “What is it, then?”
“Just nightmares.” Rather than allow his fellow officer the chance to pursue that line of query, Sephiroth took a seat behind his desk, and turned his attention back to the younger SOLDIER. The other two remained standing, even though there were chairs available. Too much nervous energy to sit still, perhaps. “Has there been any progress?”
Glumly, Zack shook his head. “I haven’t seen or heard anything from Angeal since then.” The Buster Sword still rested on his back - the cold, steel behemoth in the room that nobody wanted to acknowledge directly. Sephiroth thought it suited him, though. He wore the sword like he’d carried it always, and not merely as a symbol like Angeal had. The General never saw the point of such a magnificent weapon being treated as an ornament.
“And the search for Cloud?”
“Nothing. The Turks aren’t talking either. I tried Cissnei and Tseng. They know something, but they’re not budging.” He kept his expression neutral and professional, but Sephiroth could hear the depression in his voice. He’d never considered Zack to be naïve by any stretch of the imagination - he was a favourite of the Turks as a SOLDIER escort, after all - but this whole affair had not been a kind introduction to the darker side of ShinRa, the side that would happily stab its most loyal employees in the back in the name of profit.
“Genesis?” Sephiroth tried.
The Commander folded his arms. “I have a project I’m still working on, but I should think that the great General Sephiroth, with his mysterious special connection, would have had more success.”
“Jealousy is not very becoming of you in this situation, Genesis,” Sephiroth drawled. Genesis’s cheeks reddened, and his eyes sharpened. A tad cruel of him, but the redhead was the not the only one frustrated by their lack of progress and looking for a chance to lash out. “I’ll take that to mean you’ve had no luck either. And in response - no, I’ve not been able to gather any clues, despite Angeal’s cryptic lead. But then, I have only been able to cover ground within a day’s travel of Midgar, so if there’s a range issue as suggested, its usefulness is limited.”
Zack’s shoulders slumped, and Genesis looked away. Truthfully, as SOLDIERs, they didn’t have a lot of experience in investigative work of this sort - it was better suited to the Turks.
That reminded him. “Any word from Sergeant Kunsel?” Sephiroth asked. “We haven’t heard anything from him for some time.”
"Kunsel left a couple of days ago on a mission heading over to the West Continent, escorting some precious cargo or something. He's scheduled some leave after he's done, so he can have a look around there,” Zack reported. “The only concrete thing we know about Cloud is that he came from Nibelheim originally. It doesn’t sound like he has any ties there anymore, but Kunsel thought it was worth checking out.”
"Nibelheim?" Genesis asked.
"It's a small town on the West Continent," Sephiroth provided. "Access is difficult due to the mountain ranges. I believe there's a reactor there."
Zack nodded. “We’re lucky a mission came up to the area at all. There aren’t many requests from that part of the West Continent, except some dragon one that panned.” He grinned. “When the new one came up, Kunsel nabbed it straight away. That guy’s always the first to know.”
Sephiroth would have liked the opportunity to go himself, but realistically, ShinRa would never agree to send him on something that only required a single Second Class. “We’re fortunate then, that he could get in before another SOLDIER claimed the mission.”
Zack shrugged. “I’m pretty sure anyone would have swapped if we asked. As it was I think he had to get Luxiere to cover some of his classes just so he could go. A lot of the guys have been asking what the deal is, since he’s been missing so long. Some of the lower ranks look up to him, you know, for, um-” He sent an apologetic glance at Sephiroth. “-for giving you hell, sir.”
Sephiroth felt his lips twitch, but suppressed the smile. Oh, he knew very well - adored as he might be by the lower ranks and civilians, those within SOLDIER didn’t always hold him on the same pedestal. It hadn’t escaped his awareness that his fellow SOLDIERs had become more congenial with him since Cloud’s arrival. Up to and including Genesis.
“Not that he notices, of course. And Aeris had some strange message for him, too,” Zack grumbled. “She wanted to tell him that the secret to keeping flowers healthy was getting the right water - weird, right? I don’t think Cloud’s exactly into gardening. But when I asked what it was for all she’d tell me was that it’s ‘nobody’s business’.”
“Aeris?” Genesis inquired.
“My girlfriend,” Zack declared proudly.
The Commander rolled his eyes. “Then spare us the details. We’re not here to discuss your love life.”
“I was just pointing out that we’re not the only ones worried!” Zack defended.
“Are you suggesting we bring others into the search?” Sephiroth asked with a frown.
“Well, not exactly, but we’re not getting very far! If Kunsel can’t find anything on the West Continent, we’re going to be out of leads. More people might help - a few extra eyes and ears on the street can go a long way.”
“Absolutely not,” Genesis snapped. “The only reason the Turks and Lazard have let us continue looking all this time is because we’ve kept it quiet and low-profile. Hollander was murdered, and nobody has said anything about it. There are inter-departmental politics at work, and if SOLDIER becomes involved as a unit, the stalemate will break and Cloud and Angeal will be in danger.” He rattled off his angry analysis as if he were delivering a field briefing to a room full of idiot cadets.
"But it's been-"
"I know how long it's been," Genesis interrupted, mood visibly soured by the reminder.
Sephiroth nodded gravely. “While I agree more people would help, Genesis is correct. This is a sensitive company matter, and there are risks in going public. The Turks have displayed unusual restraint in the matter - I do not intend to test their good faith.” Or risk having them order they stop the search. Though he’d begun to suspect they only allowed it to continue because they were certain the four of them wouldn’t find anything. He didn’t share that suspicion.
He didn’t voice his other concern, either - that his fellow SOLDIERs could ‘disappear’ if the company began to question their loyalty. He doubted ShinRa would move against him, or even Genesis after the Wutai campaign, but the two Second Classes helping out were vulnerable. Until they could discover the full story behind Cloud’s disappearance and the company’s silence on it, it would be wise to tread cautiously. Angeal would not look very kindly on his friends letting his student get into that sort of danger. Sephiroth intended to welcome him back without that sort of unpleasantness.
Zack folded his arms. “I get that. But… I just don’t like sitting here doing nothing. It’s been so long, and we don’t even know how much time Angeal has left! And ever since that mission with Cissnei, all Lazard’s been giving me is busywork around Midgar.”
They didn’t want to take chances, with Zack toting that Buster Sword around on his back. Probably flagged as a risk to the company. Normally something that would cross his desk, but he was being kept out of the loop. Tseng had been avoiding him, too. A bad sign.
The more time passed, the more he suspected the worst-case scenario.
“Take a day and check Banora again, then,” Sephiroth suggested. He and Genesis had already been back twice to comb over the town and warehouse for clues, but Zack knew Angeal differently - he might pick up on something they’d missed. If nothing else, it would soothe the Second’s restlessness.
Zack nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.” He squared his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. He’d changed the style - more slicked back, more spiky - reminiscent of how Angeal wore his. Like a promise. Zack’s symbol, less cumbersome than the heavy sword he carried on his back. “I’d better get going then. I’m running a training exercise with the security forces this afternoon. I’ll be in touch.” He headed out the door.
Neither Genesis nor Sephiroth spoke until he was gone.
“He’d already be a First Class if it weren’t for this mess,” Genesis observed after a respectable silence.
“Lazard may promote him anyway, in an effort to consolidate his loyalty. The papers have already passed my desk.”
Genesis scoffed. “Typical of ShinRa. Buying loyalty with promotions, instead of genuine good will.”
“Nothing at all like giving you command of the mission to Wutai,” Sephiroth remarked dryly. He earned a dark glare for that, but point made, continued, “Zack has earned the promotion fairly. He works hard, and his mission record is flawless.”
Genesis hummed briefly in vague disapproval, but didn’t argue the point further. Sephiroth was thankful. It was difficult enough to deal with Zack’s increasing restlessness - Genesis picking fights on top of that would have been a Drain spell on what little patience he had remaining.
The General turned his attention to the documents still littering his desk, and set about re-ordering them for later perusal. Yet his guest lingered.
“Was there something else?” Sephiroth inquired.
“Your nightmares,” Genesis declared abruptly.
He frowned, and leant back from the desk again. “I already told you-”
“Not that,” Genesis interrupted, impatient. He waved a hand vaguely, in an impression lacking care. “I merely wanted to know what they were about.”
For all his casualness, it was an unusual inquiry. Their friendship was not a sentimental one - as much as Genesis willingly shared the vivid imagery of his own dreams and the potential interpretations of, treating the fruits of his subconscious as though they were poems in their own right, he rarely asked such private details from his fellows. Sephiroth steepled his fingers and regarded the Commander across the desk. “They are confusing, for the most part. There are a number of recurrent themes, however - a burning town, for one. Drowning in mako in another. Why do you ask?”
“I find it suspicious, is all. That suddenly your nightmares started when Cloud came to ShinRa.” His piece apparently said, Genesis turned on his heel and strode for the door. “I have a mission now. Call me if there’s any progress.” Then he was gone in a flash of red and black leather.
Sephiroth remained in his chair, shocked to stillness at the revelation, and astounded he hadn’t noticed it himself. It was true. His nightmares had only started with Cloud’s arrival.
Could it be a coincidence? Impossible. He’d grown wary of the term of late. Perhaps then, the sight of Cloud had sparked some long repressed memory. From his forgotten childhood?
That could be it. He’d been focusing on his career at ShinRa for the source of Cloud’s animosity, but had completely forgotten that his past stretched back further. His brow furrowed. A significant oversight, and he felt foolish for not considering it sooner.
He couldn’t imagine what he might have done as a child to earn the sort of hatred shown in Wutai, though.
There was one other possibility. The mysterious link that Angeal had alluded to, and the unnatural ability Zack had pointed out to him.
Could the dreams be some sort of subconscious connection with the blond?
And if the dreams were messages from Cloud…
Sephiroth stared at his hand, and frowned.
Next chapter
Rating: T for violence.
Summary: FFVII Time-travel. Gen. Cloud has an accident with a Time Materia.
Author's Note: Lots of new faces popping out of the woodwork in the comments, I clearly need to thank a mystery somebody for a rec.
Previous Chapter
__________________
The Fifth Act
Chapter 29
__________________
Three hours.
Two days.
A week.
Cloud stumbled into the bars of the cage, gasping for breath. His vision swam, and he closed his eyes for a moment, waiting for his equilibrium to re-establish.
“Error of point two percent,” the emotionless voice crackled through the speakers. “Subject is conscious, and appears normal.”
“We’re ready to move to the next stage, then.” Hojo’s unmistakable tones came from the background. “Are the numbers prepared?”
“Yes Professor.”
“Set it up now then.”
The viewing room fluttered with activity as the scientists moved into action, making adjustments, checking and double-checking every step. Two entered the room to fiddle with the materia stands, and then retreated to safety once more. Cloud watched, silent and resigned. He wouldn’t get a break yet. He never got a break anymore. Not even a few hours to sleep…
Caged. Trapped. Unable to do anything other than just stand there as Hojo yanked him through time, discovering the limits of his new toy.
“Power levels rising. Seventy percent… eighty percent… ninety percent…”
His vision began to blur, but when he blinked, everything gained a sense of hyper-reality. The edges of the bars seemed unusually defined - tiny details his eyes would normally skip over stood out in sharp relief. His skin tingled with energy. Something about the sensation felt familiar, yet alien at the same time.
Every breath seemed painfully slow. His gaze darted to the observation window. Most of the scientists were monitoring their screens, shoulders and necks hunched in their concentration, with only a few having glanced up to watch the moment of the jump. Except Hojo. Hojo always stared directly at him, eyes half-lidded, cold, calculating, expecting.
He wasn’t blinking.
Nobody was. They didn’t even look like they were breathing.
Then, all at once, everything sped up. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut, dizzied by the shift as the scientists all suddenly moved as one, freed some their frozen status. A fuzz of garbled words spilled from the speakers, the assistants trying to talk over each other in their confusion.
Not a moment later, the door slammed open, and Hojo himself entered the chamber, dogged by a nervous underling, and headed straight for the nearest stand. He removed the materia, inspected it, then returned it to its slot and began checking the wires and adjusting the gauges, muttering to himself all the while.
“A compressed Haste spell effect… power must have fallen short… a mistake in the equation…” Cloud watched him with steely blue eyes, waiting for him to step within arm’s reach of the cage. He never did, of course. Hojo knew to keep anything and everything far enough away.
It must have been a failed jump, if the scientist came in to check over the equipment personally. That hadn’t happened for a while.
It never made a difference. They simply fiddled with the numbers, and then it started all over again. He didn’t know why. Surely they had enough data to stop with the tests by now. What more did they hope to learn?
“Increase the power output by six percent,” Hojo decided. The assistant jumped to it, eyeing the caged SOLDIER all the while. Cloud watched him with a dull expression. Having read some of the reports strewn about the mansion in his own time, he already knew the futility of trying to gain sympathy from the Professor’s underlings. The most sympathetic of the lot had ranted his life woes to them while they floated in mako, unable to respond, or in his case, even comprehend.
And people thought he was crazy.
Eventually, Hojo was satisfied, and the pair left the chamber again, the lonely clang of the door echoing like a tolling bell.
“Restart the procedure cold,” Hojo ordered as he reappeared in view on the other side of the glass.
“Yes sir.” Another flurry of activity. “Begin recording. Initiating test. Power levels rising. Sixty percent… seventy percent…”
It had become a familiar process by now. The ear-splitting whine, the smearing colours, Ribbon burning, the breath knocked from his lungs-
Cloud choked, squeezing his eyes shut as he slammed into the cold, gritty floor. His head throbbed, but he clung to consciousness with the stubbornness of an adamantoise.
Then, something different.
A faint sound of surprise.
“Professor! Subject has re-appeared prematurely! Seven percent error! Code red! Security alert!”
Warning lights washed his vision crimson. Cloud blinked, trying to make sense of the blurry shapes taking form in front of him. One of them an indistinct white and black shape that seemed oddly familiar… And next to him, bars. But not in front of him, where he expected them to be.
“Guards!” That reedy, nasal tone ordered. “Restrain the specimen!”
Somehow, he was outside of the cage.
He was outside of the cage, and Hojo was there with him.
He moved entirely on instinct. Cloud lurched to his feet in an instant, even as the white blob of the lab coat rushed to the solid grey of the iron doors. In one swift move, he caught the scientist by the neck and slammed him against the wall.
His vision caught up at that moment - came into sharp definition as he took in the dark, terrified eyes and cracked glasses, knocked askew. He could see the sweat beading on Hojo’s brow, the way his thin, pale lips stretched as he gasped for air.
“Where is Jenova?” he growled. He could feel the scientist’s pulse race beneath his fingers.
“The gas-” Hojo wheezed.
Cloud tightened his grip. “Where is she?”
Hojo gurgled. Distantly, he became aware of a faint hissing, but his attention remained firmly fixed on the scientist clawing at his arm, turning white in the face. Finally, he had Hojo squirming in his grasp. A little more pressure, a twist of the wrist, and he could break his neck.
His vision was starting to blur again. Cloud frowned, and wavered on his feet. Only then did he register the sickly sweet scent filling his nostrils.
The gas.
The door slammed open, and guards wearing masks and carrying syringes rushed in. Cloud snarled and slammed the professor against the wall again, willing his fingers to clench, but the strength was beginning to flee his body, numbness creeping in from his fingertips and toes. His grip slackened, and Hojo began to wheeze.
No, he had Hojo right here-
Heavy hands tried to wrench him away, to free the professor, but Cloud dug his heels in, refusing to budge. He focused, tightening his grip through strength of will alone, until Hojo’s eyes began to widen, and instead of white he began to turn blue.
Then he jerked as a sharp, blindingly powerful jolt zapped through his body. Hojo dropped to the ground, gasping, dragged away by the masked troopers. Cloud threw a blind punch, staggered after the escaping scientist, but the gas was catching up with him, and he stumbled, and fell, fingers still twitching from the bite of the electro rod.
He was pressed to the ground, boots on his forearms, on his back, hands forcing his head to the ground. Stubborn, Cloud closed his eyes and held his breath, hoping to fool them into relenting, just long enough to get up, to get up and out that open door, but it was too late - he’d breathed too much in when he’d been distracted with Hojo. Sluggishly, consciousness receded, and tense muscles relaxed against his will.
Failure. Hojo, right in his grasp… and he hadn’t managed to kill him. Hadn’t even managed to find out anything about Jenova. He might have ruined everything.
The opportunity, lost. Should have snapped Hojo’s neck immediately. Would a broken neck be enough, though? Had Hojo injected himself with Jenova cells yet?
He couldn’t hold onto the thought - it slipped away like smoke. Distantly, he could feel himself being dragged - could feel the grit of the floor being replaced with the cold steel of the cage, hear the resounding slam of the barred doors. Then, the footsteps walking away, the dying hiss as the gas stopped, the lights flicking off, and Hojo’s hoarse complaints crackling faintly across the speakers.
At last, sleep. Even if only for a precious few hours…
………………..
Leather creaked as Sephiroth clenched his fists. It had been a satisfying dream, for a moment - his hand wrapped around his father’s throat, watching his face pale and fear colour that dark gaze instead of cold calculation and analysis. But it had all ended too quickly, and dissolved once more into confusing, nonsensical hallucinations, of burning villages and seas of mako and distant gunfire.
They’d become infrequent, of late - it had been over a fortnight since the last one. They never failed to wake him early, however, rattled, disoriented, and more tired than before he went to sleep.
“Sephiroth!” Genesis’s sharp pronouncement tore his attention away from the window - he’d been staring at the ragged feather caught on the edge of the window, lost in thought. An unforgivable lapse of attention. There had been too many of those, of late.
“Glad you could make it, Zack,” he greeted smoothly, avoiding acknowledging his distraction. Truthfully, he had no recollection of the Second Class arriving.
Zack gave a short wave, but Genesis would not be deterred, studying him intently. “You look tired.” Accusation lay nested in his words.
“It’s not degradation,” Sephiroth assured him for what felt like the hundredth time. It very well may have been. “You yourself implied that I was made differently.”
Genesis’s gaze slid away at that. Sephiroth couldn’t bring himself to feel pleased at the small victory, for the matter was one he did not feel had been answered satisfactorily. “What is it, then?”
“Just nightmares.” Rather than allow his fellow officer the chance to pursue that line of query, Sephiroth took a seat behind his desk, and turned his attention back to the younger SOLDIER. The other two remained standing, even though there were chairs available. Too much nervous energy to sit still, perhaps. “Has there been any progress?”
Glumly, Zack shook his head. “I haven’t seen or heard anything from Angeal since then.” The Buster Sword still rested on his back - the cold, steel behemoth in the room that nobody wanted to acknowledge directly. Sephiroth thought it suited him, though. He wore the sword like he’d carried it always, and not merely as a symbol like Angeal had. The General never saw the point of such a magnificent weapon being treated as an ornament.
“And the search for Cloud?”
“Nothing. The Turks aren’t talking either. I tried Cissnei and Tseng. They know something, but they’re not budging.” He kept his expression neutral and professional, but Sephiroth could hear the depression in his voice. He’d never considered Zack to be naïve by any stretch of the imagination - he was a favourite of the Turks as a SOLDIER escort, after all - but this whole affair had not been a kind introduction to the darker side of ShinRa, the side that would happily stab its most loyal employees in the back in the name of profit.
“Genesis?” Sephiroth tried.
The Commander folded his arms. “I have a project I’m still working on, but I should think that the great General Sephiroth, with his mysterious special connection, would have had more success.”
“Jealousy is not very becoming of you in this situation, Genesis,” Sephiroth drawled. Genesis’s cheeks reddened, and his eyes sharpened. A tad cruel of him, but the redhead was the not the only one frustrated by their lack of progress and looking for a chance to lash out. “I’ll take that to mean you’ve had no luck either. And in response - no, I’ve not been able to gather any clues, despite Angeal’s cryptic lead. But then, I have only been able to cover ground within a day’s travel of Midgar, so if there’s a range issue as suggested, its usefulness is limited.”
Zack’s shoulders slumped, and Genesis looked away. Truthfully, as SOLDIERs, they didn’t have a lot of experience in investigative work of this sort - it was better suited to the Turks.
That reminded him. “Any word from Sergeant Kunsel?” Sephiroth asked. “We haven’t heard anything from him for some time.”
"Kunsel left a couple of days ago on a mission heading over to the West Continent, escorting some precious cargo or something. He's scheduled some leave after he's done, so he can have a look around there,” Zack reported. “The only concrete thing we know about Cloud is that he came from Nibelheim originally. It doesn’t sound like he has any ties there anymore, but Kunsel thought it was worth checking out.”
"Nibelheim?" Genesis asked.
"It's a small town on the West Continent," Sephiroth provided. "Access is difficult due to the mountain ranges. I believe there's a reactor there."
Zack nodded. “We’re lucky a mission came up to the area at all. There aren’t many requests from that part of the West Continent, except some dragon one that panned.” He grinned. “When the new one came up, Kunsel nabbed it straight away. That guy’s always the first to know.”
Sephiroth would have liked the opportunity to go himself, but realistically, ShinRa would never agree to send him on something that only required a single Second Class. “We’re fortunate then, that he could get in before another SOLDIER claimed the mission.”
Zack shrugged. “I’m pretty sure anyone would have swapped if we asked. As it was I think he had to get Luxiere to cover some of his classes just so he could go. A lot of the guys have been asking what the deal is, since he’s been missing so long. Some of the lower ranks look up to him, you know, for, um-” He sent an apologetic glance at Sephiroth. “-for giving you hell, sir.”
Sephiroth felt his lips twitch, but suppressed the smile. Oh, he knew very well - adored as he might be by the lower ranks and civilians, those within SOLDIER didn’t always hold him on the same pedestal. It hadn’t escaped his awareness that his fellow SOLDIERs had become more congenial with him since Cloud’s arrival. Up to and including Genesis.
“Not that he notices, of course. And Aeris had some strange message for him, too,” Zack grumbled. “She wanted to tell him that the secret to keeping flowers healthy was getting the right water - weird, right? I don’t think Cloud’s exactly into gardening. But when I asked what it was for all she’d tell me was that it’s ‘nobody’s business’.”
“Aeris?” Genesis inquired.
“My girlfriend,” Zack declared proudly.
The Commander rolled his eyes. “Then spare us the details. We’re not here to discuss your love life.”
“I was just pointing out that we’re not the only ones worried!” Zack defended.
“Are you suggesting we bring others into the search?” Sephiroth asked with a frown.
“Well, not exactly, but we’re not getting very far! If Kunsel can’t find anything on the West Continent, we’re going to be out of leads. More people might help - a few extra eyes and ears on the street can go a long way.”
“Absolutely not,” Genesis snapped. “The only reason the Turks and Lazard have let us continue looking all this time is because we’ve kept it quiet and low-profile. Hollander was murdered, and nobody has said anything about it. There are inter-departmental politics at work, and if SOLDIER becomes involved as a unit, the stalemate will break and Cloud and Angeal will be in danger.” He rattled off his angry analysis as if he were delivering a field briefing to a room full of idiot cadets.
"But it's been-"
"I know how long it's been," Genesis interrupted, mood visibly soured by the reminder.
Sephiroth nodded gravely. “While I agree more people would help, Genesis is correct. This is a sensitive company matter, and there are risks in going public. The Turks have displayed unusual restraint in the matter - I do not intend to test their good faith.” Or risk having them order they stop the search. Though he’d begun to suspect they only allowed it to continue because they were certain the four of them wouldn’t find anything. He didn’t share that suspicion.
He didn’t voice his other concern, either - that his fellow SOLDIERs could ‘disappear’ if the company began to question their loyalty. He doubted ShinRa would move against him, or even Genesis after the Wutai campaign, but the two Second Classes helping out were vulnerable. Until they could discover the full story behind Cloud’s disappearance and the company’s silence on it, it would be wise to tread cautiously. Angeal would not look very kindly on his friends letting his student get into that sort of danger. Sephiroth intended to welcome him back without that sort of unpleasantness.
Zack folded his arms. “I get that. But… I just don’t like sitting here doing nothing. It’s been so long, and we don’t even know how much time Angeal has left! And ever since that mission with Cissnei, all Lazard’s been giving me is busywork around Midgar.”
They didn’t want to take chances, with Zack toting that Buster Sword around on his back. Probably flagged as a risk to the company. Normally something that would cross his desk, but he was being kept out of the loop. Tseng had been avoiding him, too. A bad sign.
The more time passed, the more he suspected the worst-case scenario.
“Take a day and check Banora again, then,” Sephiroth suggested. He and Genesis had already been back twice to comb over the town and warehouse for clues, but Zack knew Angeal differently - he might pick up on something they’d missed. If nothing else, it would soothe the Second’s restlessness.
Zack nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I will.” He squared his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. He’d changed the style - more slicked back, more spiky - reminiscent of how Angeal wore his. Like a promise. Zack’s symbol, less cumbersome than the heavy sword he carried on his back. “I’d better get going then. I’m running a training exercise with the security forces this afternoon. I’ll be in touch.” He headed out the door.
Neither Genesis nor Sephiroth spoke until he was gone.
“He’d already be a First Class if it weren’t for this mess,” Genesis observed after a respectable silence.
“Lazard may promote him anyway, in an effort to consolidate his loyalty. The papers have already passed my desk.”
Genesis scoffed. “Typical of ShinRa. Buying loyalty with promotions, instead of genuine good will.”
“Nothing at all like giving you command of the mission to Wutai,” Sephiroth remarked dryly. He earned a dark glare for that, but point made, continued, “Zack has earned the promotion fairly. He works hard, and his mission record is flawless.”
Genesis hummed briefly in vague disapproval, but didn’t argue the point further. Sephiroth was thankful. It was difficult enough to deal with Zack’s increasing restlessness - Genesis picking fights on top of that would have been a Drain spell on what little patience he had remaining.
The General turned his attention to the documents still littering his desk, and set about re-ordering them for later perusal. Yet his guest lingered.
“Was there something else?” Sephiroth inquired.
“Your nightmares,” Genesis declared abruptly.
He frowned, and leant back from the desk again. “I already told you-”
“Not that,” Genesis interrupted, impatient. He waved a hand vaguely, in an impression lacking care. “I merely wanted to know what they were about.”
For all his casualness, it was an unusual inquiry. Their friendship was not a sentimental one - as much as Genesis willingly shared the vivid imagery of his own dreams and the potential interpretations of, treating the fruits of his subconscious as though they were poems in their own right, he rarely asked such private details from his fellows. Sephiroth steepled his fingers and regarded the Commander across the desk. “They are confusing, for the most part. There are a number of recurrent themes, however - a burning town, for one. Drowning in mako in another. Why do you ask?”
“I find it suspicious, is all. That suddenly your nightmares started when Cloud came to ShinRa.” His piece apparently said, Genesis turned on his heel and strode for the door. “I have a mission now. Call me if there’s any progress.” Then he was gone in a flash of red and black leather.
Sephiroth remained in his chair, shocked to stillness at the revelation, and astounded he hadn’t noticed it himself. It was true. His nightmares had only started with Cloud’s arrival.
Could it be a coincidence? Impossible. He’d grown wary of the term of late. Perhaps then, the sight of Cloud had sparked some long repressed memory. From his forgotten childhood?
That could be it. He’d been focusing on his career at ShinRa for the source of Cloud’s animosity, but had completely forgotten that his past stretched back further. His brow furrowed. A significant oversight, and he felt foolish for not considering it sooner.
He couldn’t imagine what he might have done as a child to earn the sort of hatred shown in Wutai, though.
There was one other possibility. The mysterious link that Angeal had alluded to, and the unnatural ability Zack had pointed out to him.
Could the dreams be some sort of subconscious connection with the blond?
And if the dreams were messages from Cloud…
Sephiroth stared at his hand, and frowned.
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