Apotheosis

By Memoriam Victus

Chapter 1 – Hoarse Whispers

Aniko sighed and slumped down in her chair, idly glancing at the bank of monitors that took up most of the nurse's station she was assigned to. Being transferred to Dr. Hojo's research facility had seemed like a wonderful opportunity, a chance to distinguish herself in the eyes of Shinra's medical division and participate in exciting new breakthroughs… the reality was anything but. Long nights sent sitting in a bright, empty hallway, watching Hojo's various test subjects sleep on the monitors, attempting to piece together the experiments they were a part of from the cryptic reports left scattered around… she was even locked out of all but the most basic of the main computer's functions.

Returning her gaze to the monitors, she frowned. The first bank showed nothing but empty rooms, sterilely awaiting their next occupants. The second contained views of caged animals: mice, dogs, monkeys, and a few more exotic creatures she was hard-pressed to put names to. A mouse ran frantically on its exercise wheel, but otherwise there was no movement other than the soft rise and fall of slumbering sides.

The third bank was the most intriguing. Completely empty until a few days ago, one of the rooms now contained a young teenaged girl. Aniko once again scrutinized her carefully, wondering what her purpose here might be… and where she might have come from. Pretty enough, with a soft fall of brown hair obscuring blue eyes, she was nonetheless rather skinny and scruffy, although she seemed to take pains with her hygiene. None of Aniko's information made any reference to the girl; she had simply appeared one day, designated as project 63. Aniko had yet to see her rise from her bed, although she often lay awake at night, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Frustrated by her lack of knowledge, she turned to retrieve her magazine from the drawer at her elbow--and gasped at the apparition that had materialized beside the station.

The slender figure easily topped six feet; swathed in black, a long fall of silken white hair hung lankly, disappearing out of sight below his waist. Baleful green eyes were fixed intently on the monitors behind her; at her gasp, his fierce gaze shifted to her. Expressionless, he laid a plastic card on the counter and slid it towards her. "My authorization," he said, his voice a harsh whisper, incongruous with his angelic appearance.

Nervously, Aniko glanced around the hall as she slid the card into the computer's reader. She should have heard the automatic doors sliding open and closed, should have heard his footsteps echoing down the long hallway. Yet he stood before her, seeming almost to have materialized… the machine beeped.

SEPHIROTH. D.O.B UNLISTED. S.O.L.D.I.E.R. ID 6487948. CLEARANCE HATUHMOD.

Oh my God, him! No wonder he had been able to approach so silently… this was the famous warrior, his decorations and exploits unmatched, the one the newswires hinted was being groomed to lead the upcoming assault on Wutai; the one who never allowed interviews, or any public attention.

But what was he doing here?

His gaze had shifted back to the monitors. "Number… sixty three," he rasped. "I am to escort to another location."

The girl. Of course; why else the unusual visitor? "I'm sorry, sir," she said nervously, reluctant to meet his eyes, "but I'm not trained or authorized to handle subj--err, patients--"

"Then it is fortunate that I am," he interrupted. "See that I am not disturbed."

"Yes, sir," she answered quickly, removing his ID card from the reader and sliding it back to him. Without another word he spun on his heel and strode silently to the doors separating them from the subject area. The doors hissed open after he swiped his card, and shut seconds after he passed through them.

They had certainly been audible that time.

Chapter 2 – Gentle Hands

Once the doors slid shut behind him, Sephiroth allowed himself to relax fractionally. He'd had no doubt he'd be able to breeze past any staff he encountered; he was, after all, S.O.L.D.I.E.R.'s shining star, and Hojo's special… pet. He regretted having to use his own identification, but it couldn't be helped. This night's repercussions would be so widespread he could not hope to go undiscovered.

This is madness.

Nevertheless, here he was. Moreover, that useless nurse was undoubtedly watching this hesitation avidly on her monitor; that wouldn't do. He set off down the hall, pretending to check each door as his passed.

The girl had sold flowers in Midgar. He knew this because she had frequented the passages between the plates, and he had observed the urchin during his crossings as he observed everything: dispassionately, assessing, calculating. She, like most others, had never dared to approach him, but he had nevertheless filed her existence away in his seemingly endless memory; one never knew what might turn out to be important.

He was not entirely surprised to see her a few months later when he arrived at Hojo's lab for his scheduled treatments. Hojo had never been able to duplicate whatever it was that made Sephiroth… different, but he had never ceased trying. Failing that, the girl was pretty enough; if she survived, well, Hojo's personal tastes ran to the extreme.

She had sat, dull and disinterested, trailing as skein of tubes as Sephiroth stripped and submitted to the usual barrage of tests: blood, tissue, and saliva had been from him as the host of machines Hojo's assistants attached him to ticked off their readings. He had long since given up being embarrassed or discomfited by it; he had been Hojo's all his life.

The injections were another story.

Finally left alone, sick and weak, he had shakily dressed himself and staggered for the door, bereft of his usual catlike grace. Unthinking, he had brushed past the girl--who reached out and trailed her fingers down his sleeve. Startled, he paused, giving her the opportunity to brush the bare flesh of his hand.

The shock of her touch was indescribable; warm, cool, electrifying, soothing; all that and more sparked from that slight contact. More, he felt a new crackling energy react within himself, giddy and enervating. She twitched in response, but continued to stare sightlessly at the floor. Sephiroth shuddered as the force of that energy blazed through him. "What is this?" he breathed, crouching down beside her. "What did you do?"

She finally turned her head, one crystal blue eye visible beneath her mop of hair. "Nothing, " she murmured. "I did nothing."

"I am not a scientist," he said intently. "I do not care how. Tell me what."

She shook her head gently. "I touched you, that's all," she said, barely above a whisper. "I meant to help… I didn't know.." She trailed off, returning her gaze to the floor.

Sephiroth stared at her, wanting to seize her by the scruff of the neck and shake a proper answer out of her, but not quite daring. Whatever the reaction between them had been, it had felt too good to be harmful… but still. He was unable to discern anything from her appearance; just a poor, shabby girl who looked barely conscious. But still… but still. "Can you keep this from Hojo?" he asked. "This incident, and this… reaction?"

No response. In retrospect he was lucky to have gotten her to speak as much as she had; the tranquilizers used on unstable subjects in the lab were incredibly powerful. Sighing, he rose and raked a hand through his sweaty silver hair. "It is unfortunate that you have ended up here," he said finally. She remained silent; unsure of how else to proceed, he turned and left the lab.

Later that night he exploited his new security clearance for the first time. Even so, there was precious little information available. Nothing pertaining specifically to that strange girl; the only unusual item nearly made Sephiroth laugh aloud. Hojo believed he had gotten his hands on a Cetra! He did chuckle; he had thought the good doctor far too old to believe in fairy tales.

A Cetra. A dryad, a nature spirit… a healer.

No, it couldn't be.

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio…

Confused and disturbed, he accessed a mythology database and began to peruse the entry on Cetras. Fairies, healers, an affinity with nature, empaths. Well, that wasn't it; he hadn't felt ill or miserable as she surely had. Guardians of the wild places, creators… a line of text caught his eye.

"Often shrines were built in places reputed to have been homes of Cetra couples; it was believed the energy produced by their touching was the most pure creative force."

She had said she meant to help… and that she hadn't known. Known what? What had caused that spark of power between them?

The energy produced by their touching…

Sephiroth, born and raised in Hojo's lab, had never known exactly what it was that made him different, superior. Well, Hojo was a geneticist; it stood to reason that Sephiroth had been altered somehow, but he had never known the specifics. Even stranger, it now occurred to him that he had never really been curious about it; he who pursued every trail of logic to its bitter end.

How bizarre was that?

He knew that he was unique; Hojo had never been able to produce another specimen as fine as Sephiroth. He had never questioned that failure, but…

…the energy produced by their touching…

…could it be that Hojo failed because he had never been able to acquire more of the material he had created Sephiroth from?

Was that girl really a Cetra?

Was he?

Utter foolishness. And yet… and yet.

He returned to Hojo's research database and began to see just how far his new clearance would take him.

The information he discovered was what led to his presence this evening. The hints that his guesses at his true origins were correct actually disturbed him very little; the forgetfulness, the lack of curiosity… that did. He was not jealous of his unique status, but the little he had been able to glean from his searches had been deeply worrisome. Hojo was not breeding simply for physical superiority, after all; no, that was the last thing the program was aiming for, just a happy side effect. He had been unable to discover what the ultimate aim of the program truly was; he did not intend to give anyone a chance to find out.

Aeris. The name Hojo had e-mailed a request to the Census Bureau to delete from their computers was Aeris Gainsborough. Standard operating procedure; no one could miss a person that didn't exist.

Finally unable to put it off any longer, he stopped in front of her door. His shoulders itched for the comfortable weight of Masamune, left behind for this adventure. Checking his pocket for the hypogun's comforting weight, he keyed open the door.

Chapter 3 – Bloody Feet

Aeris is sick Aeris is hurt can't fix why why why

She sighed softly and turned her face into the coolness of the thin pillow, the sharp smell of disinfectant stinging her nostrils. The voice continued to hum in the back of her mind.

Wake Aeris rise Aeris danger here danger danger

But she couldn't wake… didn't want to. Her mind was a blur; she was barely able to string a coherent thought together. I met that young man on the way to the garden… I was afraid to jump… why did I need to jump?

Yes yes Aeris thinks Aeris remembers Aeris was chased Aeris was caught

I'm so tired, why can't you let me sleep? she thought piteously at the voice.

Sleep forever soon if Aeris doesn't wake Aeris doesn't run

She moaned softly, twisting her head back and forth. She couldn't remember! The young man… and the jump she hadn't made… long featureless hallways… the reek of antiseptic… and that sharp, crackling presence she had encountered.

Aeris isn't scared

But I could be… should be… am? She couldn't bring forth an image of who or what it was, but it had shocked her out of her daze for a few brief moments. A fierce, roiling energy that had almost reminded her of her mother, the only other of her kind she'd known… but yet so different. A buzzing, the taste of lemons, the acrid stench of burning leaves; not directed against her, not hostile, but awesome in its depth and unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Wicked

Not bad

Wickedwickedwicked

Sound. Movement. She turned her head and opened her eyes, fuzzily trying to focus on the door. A figured silhouetted in light, then darkness again as the door closed. Blinking, she was able to track the dark shape as it crossed the small room and crouched beside her bed. A leather-gloved hand pressed her chin upwards; she gasped at a rush of cold air and a sting at her throat.

Wickedwickedwicked

Not bad

"I have given you a stimulant," a low voice rumbled out of the darkness. "It will take effect in a few moments."

She frowned, trying to make sense of that simple statement, then winced as light flooded her vision. Blinking painfully, she struggled to make out the person looming over her. A thin wom--no, a man, met her muddled gaze expressionlessly, his green eyes oddly lambent. Those eyes were strangely familiar; she had seen them before, only they had been blazing, glowing emerald then…

"You're him!" she gasped, propping herself up on one elbow. "The one from the lab, the one who--"

"I have no idea what you are talking about," he said coldly, fine features hardening into a glare. She could have bitten her tongue; surely they were being observed, and hadn't he--yes, he had asked her not to talk about what had happened. She didn't think she had until now, but why the secre--her train of thought abruptly derailed as she caught sight of the stylized S logo over the lockplate of the door.

Shinra.

She glanced around, quickly taking in her surroundings; she was in a sparsely appointed hospital room… with a Shinra logo on the door.

A laboratory. Shinra research.

Oh, no.

Her visitor had followed the direction of her gaze, then turned back to her. Rising, he stepped back from the bed. "Can you stand?"

Wickedwickedwicked

Aeris runs Aeris flees

The Planet spoke! Relief surged through her, and she found she could stand.

Of course of course love you Aeris stands Aeris flees

She felt a sudden rush of lightheadedness and swayed, almost falling; the man made no move to steady her. "Sit if you must," he said. "I won't carry you."

"No, I'm fine," she replied. "Just a little dizzy."

"Then come." He opened the door and gestured for her to proceed him through it.

They passed through so many coded doors and manned checkpoints she quickly lost count; her guide led her rapidly along, occasionally murmuring a few brief words to the guards they encountered, but otherwise silent. Aeris began to grow frightened; she realized she knew this man, even before their encounter in the lab. He was the captain of the Shinra headquarters' troop of S.O.L.D.I.E.R.s, and was often seen abroad in Midgar, alone or with his men. No one she knew had ever known his name or anything about him except he brutality; he was well known for his vicious and bloody response to insurrections.

The Angel of Death, he's called. And what is a S.O.L.D.I.E.R. doing in a lab, or taking me from one? I hope, I hope, I hope he's just taking me somewhere… maybe I can escape then… he can't want anything from me, please don't let him--

Stay safe stay safe stay safe

Wickedwickedwicked

Stay safe

Her anxiety and growing terror only increased when they exited the building entirely. Shinra's vast grounds spread out before them, harshly limned by the floodlights spaced out along the high brick walls surrounding the campus. Her captor took her elbow and guided her down one of the raked gravel paths dividing the neatly manicured lawns.

"You've seen the inside of the building. Each one of those towers contains a sniper equipped with night vision and a rifle powerful enough to destroy anything he can aim at," he rasped softly, his words barely audible. "Three of the four quadrants--the two front, and the rear to the south of us--are likewise equipped with motion sensors, which will trigger a siren and hidden banks of lights, which will bring you to the attention of the fellows up there." He pointed. "They've been left deactivated in this sector because it is a popular spot for the less affluent members of S.O.L.D.I.E.R. to become acquainted with their young ladies."

The night was warm, but Aeris shivered, pulling her rough gray hospital tunic closer. Please don't let him want-- "Why are you telling me this?" she asked tremulously. "I would never try to run from you."

They had reached a small iron bench, surrounded by ornamental rocks. He sank down onto one end, neatly folding his legs beneath him and resting his chin on his fists. He gestured for her to sit; heart in her throat she did, staying as far from him as she could.

"I tell you these things because you will need to fabricate a story if you are apprehended," he said frankly. "I have brought you here, where we will be unobserved, because I wish to offer you a bargain." His eyes sparked, giving an eerie cast to his delicate features. "If you answer my questions truthfully, I will walk you to a gate and release you as easily as I have taken you from the facility. If--"

SAFE

"--you do not, I will break your neck and return the corpse to your room."

Still safe stay safe

Wicked

Safe

Aeris let out the breath she had been holding in a ragged sound that was almost a sob. Safe, the Planet said; it had an interesting idea of what safe meant. "Wh-what do you want to know?"

He was silent for a long time. He looked like a statue of ebony and marble, except for the long silver hair that tossed in the soft breeze, tickling her legs. Finally he spoke. "Is Hojo right? Are you a Cetra?"

Truth truth truth

"Not entirely," she said slowly. "My mother was… and I take after her. But I am only half."

"Have you read what is written about your mother's people? How much of it is true?"

"Very little… and all of it." She told him of the Ancients, their stewardship and connection to all life, the Lifestream and her eventual duty to it, Shinra's plans to harvest and destroy it, the voice of the Planet--

He straightened. "It actually speaks to you? The planet itself? Verbally?"

"Not in a way others can hear, she explained. "It's a presence in my mind, always with me."

Love you

"And what does it talk about?" he asked, propping his chan back on his fists. "No, never mind, it's not important. And you will suicide to join with this voice--the Lifestream?"

"Not suicide," she said heatedly. "But yes, I will take my place in it when the time comes.

He was silent again. The glow slowly returned to his eyes, softer and more steady this time. Aeris shivered; even in a terrifyingly uncertain situation like this, she was struck by his odd, unearthly beauty. She had never before encountered a person like him; she didn't think she wished to in the future.

He looked up at her, capturing her gaze. "And… what am I?"

It was Aeris's turn to be silent, carefully considering her response. What did he expect her to know--what did he want to hear?

Truth truth truth

"I don't know," she finally admitted. "I've only known one other Ancient, my mother, and you're not like her--not much. There was never a shock like that between us. Nothing like that has ever happened before." She lowered her eyes. "But you're not human. No human has… energy like yours." She bit her lip and glanced up at him. "Please don't be angry."

His gaze had turned inward, his eyes smoldering. Paradoxically, she found she wished she had been able to tell him something else, not to buy her life with, but because he seemed so… depressed by her answer. It struck her that he was taking a terrible risk with her, and whatever information he'd hoped she knew must be very important to him. Why did her lack of knowledge distress him so?

Would he still keep his word?

The wind teased her with the tips of his mane for a long time. The glow in his eyes guttered out, and he straightened his legs beneath him. "Well," he murmured. "Well. I think you're too frightened to lie to me." She froze, uncertain of how to respond; he stood. "Come."

Aeris scrambled to her feet, noticing the pain of the small rocks digging into her thin cotton slippers for the first time. He turned and strode off deeper into the grounds, seemingly unconcerned whether or not she followed. She had to trot to keep up with him. The area he led her into was much darker, and she kept track of his progress mostly by the soft crunch of gravel and the snap of his coat in the wind.

They finally came to the gate he had spoken of; much smaller than the others she had seen, it was also unmanned, although the lenses attached to it seemed to be monitoring devices. He tapped numbers into the keypad, and it swung open silently.

SAFE

Aeris took a deep breath, staring out into the unrestricted night before her. He was really going to let her go! But where? She didn't know where she was, where Midgar was, where if friends were, if they were still free--

Aeris calms Aeris relaxes

"Aeris--"

She whirled, startled to hear her name spoken aloud. He had taken a silent step towards her, and stripped off one of his gloves as she watched. His eyes crackled green again, and he licked his lips. Slowly he reached towards her face.

He's going to touch me this time! she thought frantically, not entirely unexcited by the prospect.

She tilted her chin up for him, anticipating and fearing the contact--but his hand stopped and hovered a breath from her cheek for a long moment. Then he gestured to the open gate. "Go."

Silent and disturbed, she stepped through, then turned back to him. "What's your name?"

The corners of his mouth turned upwards in a sardonic smile. "Midgar is east," he said hoarsely, and shut the gate.

Wicked?

Chapter – Dark Deeds

Braddock stretched, closing his eyes against the twilit gloom of his office. It had been a long but profitable day; many entries in the daybooks of he and his employer had been moved to the 'completed' file. He was proud of his efficiency; being an executive assistant, particularly to someone as erratic as Rufus Shinra, was more difficult than most people realized.

But there was one more matter to be planned for today. Resettling his glasses on his nose, he opened the e-mail he had received from the head of Shinra's special operative group, the Turks, and scanned it once again.

AVALANCHE apprehension much more difficult than anticipated; request assignment of a S.O.L.D.I.E.R. Black operative ASAP. Respond with identification and estimated time of arrival.

Braddock frowned, thinking back to his conversation with the head of S.O.L.D.I.E.R. that morning. The trouble was that there weren't any S.O.L.D.I.E.R. Blacks any more; many of the original group were the foundation of the Turks themselves; those who hadn't joined were retired, missing, or had been… disposed of. Cross-referencing the Black roster with S.O.L.D.I.E.R.'s current enrollment, he had been able to come up with only one name: Sephiroth.

Only Sephiroth was currently involved in the mopup of the Wutai conflict; had, in fact, led the assault himself, a brutal onslaught that had quickly ended with Wutai's submission. Even then, Sephiroth had not permitted his forces to relent; every day more news footage rolled in of S.O.L.D.I.E.R.s slaughtering unarmed refugees, their leader often right beside them wielding a large curved sword. Needless to say this footage did little to convince the populace of the need for the 'pacification of Wutaian militants,' and was suppressed as quickly as possible.

Such behavior was finally beginning to draw concern from Shinra's upper echelons, although it seemed the scale and publicity were what distressed them, rather than the actions themselves. Braddock had seen Sephiroth's record of duty; surprisingly short considering his recent promotion to general, it was nonetheless a nightmare of assassinations, torture, demolition, and rampant sociopathy. At least he's on our side, Braddock thought morosely, and pulled up the file again.

Yes, Sephiroth was well regarded… he had only received one mark of censure in his career, and the details were so classified even Braddock couldn't access them. He had heard bits and pieces of the story, though; something like that was too bizarre not to get around. Sephiroth had apparently walked into the research wing one night, and walked out with a girl who had been kept there, making no attempt to hide his theft. Gossip had never explicitly stated what had happened to her, but it had surely been nasty; raped and murdered, most likely. Whatever he had done to her, no trace had ever been found, and the research head, Hojo, had been furious. That had ended in Sephiroth being transferred from Research--and odd place for a man of his duties to be assigned anyway--to S.O.L.D.I.E.R. full-time, and, ironically, begun the ascent of his career a few years ago.

Still… while having a tame monster like Sephiroth might be useful, it was definitely felt that he was too visible at the moment. Such things as his talents lended themselves to were best done in the dark. Perhaps it wouldn't be a tremendous problem to remove him from Wutai and send him after this AVALANCHE group.

Confident the recommendation wouldn't be discarded, Braddock opened another program and began a new e-mail. A few moments later he received the response: an annotated dossier on AVALANCHE. The information was distressingly sparse. Apparently they were an environmentalist group of some sort who had recently begun taking violent action; they were responsible for the bombing of Reactor 7, an invasion of the President's mansion, and a hijacking, among a host of lesser crimes. However, Shinra intelligence had been unable to discover who they were; the only positive ID they had was a young man named Cloud Strife, an ex-guardsman and a failed S.O.L.D.I.E.R. himself. He allegedly associated with a woman named Tifa, a large man with a cybernetic weapon, another unidentified woman, and a half dozen others, according to eyewitnesses. Troubling; they seemed a paltry group to have wreaked such havoc, let alone given the Turks so much trouble that they asked for help. Still, it wasn't his job to wonder why they needed help; he simply had to arrange it as quickly and conveniently as possible.

Braddock began his last email of the evening, advising Mr. Rufus of the reasons he felt Sephiroth would be suited for the role, finally attaching the Turks' request, the AVALANCHE dossier, and Sephiroth's resume before sending it off. As he did so, Sephiroth's bloodstained list of atrocities caught his eye again, and he shuddered involuntarily. I hope he doesn't need to come here for a briefing; I'd hate to meet him in the hall.

Well, Mr. Rufus would be the one speaking to the general, not Braddock.

A tame monster indeed.

Chapter 5 – Predatory Smiles

The general was currently seated at his wide mahogany desk, fingers flying across the keyboard before him as he assessed the latest troop movements. He frowned at the slight retreat of his armored units, and slipped his hand below the desk to guide the bobbing head of the young aide-de-camp who crouched there into a more pleasurable position.

Seemingly unmoved by her ministrations, Sephiroth leaned back, stretched his shoulders, and debated the value of a sharp communiqué to the units' leader. The man had a great touch with the enlisted men, but he was simply not cut out for active combat. It would be a shame to waste such a great steward, though… more likely it would require a personal visit, an opportunity to put the fear of God into the NCOs in the hopes they'd head off the worst of their commandant's bad decisions. He flicked to another screen and tapped out instructions for one of his aides to check his schedule and arrange the trip.

Absently, he reached down and cupped the aide's face; she moaned softly as the caress. He was never certain whether the various young women considered such service part of their duty, a potential means of advancement, or were genuinely attracted to him; not did he particularly care, as long as they passed their background checks. Leadership had its privileges.

The last few years had been remarkably easy on Sephiroth; he found himself wondering in odd moments how much farther ahead he'd be if he had crossed Hojo sooner. He'd had no real idea what the reaction to Aeris's disappearance--or 'theft,' as the disciplinary board had termed it--would be; anything from being stripped of his position and handed over to Hojo for full-time research to outright execution; any number of outcomes that would cause him to have to flee Shinra. But amazingly, the company had valued their killer over their scientist; when Hojo continued to rage, Sephiroth had been removed from his grasp entirely, allowed to devote all of his energies towards being S.O.L.D.I.E.R.'s red right hand.

He did love the work.

The disbanding of Black and subsequent formation of the Turks had left him nonplussed; he did not relish the idea of being demoted to a skulking bully. But he had been allowed to remain a S.O.L.D.I.E.R., and building on his experience as a guard captain, he had quickly risen through the chain of command. Leading troops was both disappointing and more fulfilling than he had expected; while he spent more time in this office than he'd like, armies gave him the opportunity for destruction on a scale he'd never dreamed of… and there were plenty of opportunities to get into the thick of things. Keep his hand in, as it were.

All because of Aeris: the girl who had spoken only of peace and gentleness. He'd never forgotten her, or their conversation; had, in fact, spent much of the last few years trying to build on the meager store of knowledge she'd shared with him. He hadn't had much luck. There was plenty of babble about a City of the Ancients and some sort of apocalypse that would either create or open the way to a so-called Promised Land, depending on which book you preferred. Since those same books contained lurid tales of unicorns and mermaids, he doubted them all.

But she had not lied to him; once he had learned what to watch for, he felt echoes of many things she had described. Sometimes, particularly up north, he felt a low, peculiar thrumming in his bounds… even though she had insisted he was not a Cetra, he could almost believe the planet was trying to speak to him.

Never, ever had he encountered another sensation like her touch in the laboratory, however. Nothing that electrifying, that… sublime…

The woman sensed his sudden tension; not suspecting the true reason for it, she began to work faster. Sephiroth's eyes droops shut; soon thoughts of the girl and his mysterious heritage were driven from his mind as his breathing hitched; then he sighed and rolled his chair back to allow the woman space to rise. She stood and straightened her uniform. "Thank you," he said thickly, "that will be all." She nodded and quickly left the office.

He sat quietly for a few more moments, trying to recapture his train of thought, but it was no good. Resigned, he tucked himself away and rolled back to his desk to continue with the troop movements. It would be good to return to Wutai… the office life didn't much suit him…

A short while later he was interrupted by a rap at his door. Annoyed, he glanced up in time to see it opened by a familiar, reviled figure.

Rufus Shinra bounded through the door, his grin wide, cheerful, and false. "Sephiroth," he practically crowed, "I'm so glad you could make time to see me." They both knew it was a lie; Rufus never bothered with appointments, and Sephiroth's staff would never dare allow him through without ample warning.

Nonetheless, Sephiroth rose and bowed low over his desk. "I am always honored to speak with the President's son," he said, respectfully neutral. To say that he despised Rufus was a gross understatement; he considered the man a spoiled brat who knew too much power and too little responsibility. For a time after Black was disbanded but before the Turks were formed, he had attempted to conscript Sephiroth into his private bodyguard, impressed by his reputation as the 'angel of death.' Sephiroth had… convinced him otherwise… very harshly. Fortunately, shortly thereafter the President himself approved Sephiroth's transfer out.

But I must play the game.

Bowing more slightly this time, he gestured to the chairs before the desk. "Please, sit, and tell me how I may be of service to you."

Rufus sprawled into one of the leather armchairs, but did not look at Sephiroth: his attention was drawn instead to Masamune; the great katana hung behind the desk, comfortably within reach. "I see you've been busy," he said. "That sword has a few more notches in it than I remember."

Indeed it had. "I am only recently come from Ice Village," he replied. "Wutaian sympathizers were becoming troublesome, helping leaders of the rebellion to escape north." He smiled thinly; no need to mention the 'rebel leaders' had all been too young or too old to fight. "They are no longer a concern."

"Well, it's good to hear you're so involved with your work," Rufus said, the plastic smile once more stretching his face, but Sephiroth could tell the man was unnerved. "That's actually what I've come to speak to you about. How does your command suit you?"

Sephiroth folded his hands behind his back and raised an eyebrow. "I am pleased to serve in any capacity Shinra sees fit for me."

Rufus raked a hand through his hair. "Look, I know your background. All of this… it's got to be a big change for someone who's so used to the nitty-gritty aspects of life, am I right?"

Sephiroth nodded noncommittally.

"The operation has gone great--you did a wonderful job--but Wutai is pretty much dead these days. You're just mopping up the stragglers now, right?"

He nodded again, wondering where this was going.

"The rest of this operation could easily be handled by someone else--someone way below your caliber. In fact, it's pretty much a waste of your time here, and we've got something lined up that should be much more worthy of your efforts."

"Oh?"

"Remember the reactor explosion awhile back?" Rufus leaned forward. "The Turks found who did it."

"I trust they did an excellent job."

"The Turks…" Rufus smiled deprecatingly and made a back-and-forth gesture with one hand. "They're great, but this isn't really their thing. We need someone with experience in these matters. And a strong stomach." He grinned. "We've got a pretty interesting use in mind for these guys."

"Oh?" Sephiroth repeated, finally stepping forward to sit behind his desk. "Tell me more."

A few hours later, Sephiroth stepped into the alley behind Seventh Heaven. Checking to make sure he was unobserved, he quickly wiped the scarlet from Masamune's blade and sheathed the sword at his back. Pulling the hood of his cloak closer he set off, boots splashing in the mire. Rufus had asked him to proceed directly to Kalm Village to liase with the Turks, but he found doing his own research so much more… rewarding.

Too much time indoors, hmm?

This is going to be very fun.

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