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Darkened Skies	By : Cynthia Category: Final Fantasy VII > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 949 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all characters are the property of Square Enix. I do not profit from this fanfiction, it’s for entertainment purposes only.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
"Darkened Skies"
Chapter nineteen: The first wave
A Final Fantasy 7 AU fanfiction
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*Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all related characters belong to Square-Enix. This fiction piece is strictly a non-profit exercise of creativity and entertainment for people (like me) who can’t get enough of this world and the characters.
~**************************************~

            The first thing to cross Vincent Valentine's mind when the hesitant knocks disturbed his rest was that he never should have allowed Reeve to talk him into the butler. Tuesti insisted on it—not so much to pamper Vincent, but to ensure that he could reach him if he needed him. The "butler" was a ShinRa employee, of course, and he lived in the mansion and kept it up, in exchange for the wages Reeve paid him out of his own pocket. He was really more of a grounds keeper and tenant than an actual butler, since Vincent was never awake to be waited on.
            "Uh…Mr. Valentine?" called the nervous young man, "I'm sorry to disturb you, but Commissioner Tuesti is on the phone and he says it's urgent."
            "Let me rest," replied the gunman stubbornly.
            "H-he said you might say that, and he wanted me to tell you it involves Dr. Crescent? Does that name sound familiar to—"
            Vincent shoved the coffin lid open and sat up abruptly, provoking a gasping, startled cry from the young man. He stood up and regarded him with narrowed, ruby eyes and it occurred to him by the way the brunet man clutched his chest that he might have just given him a heart attack.
            "I'm not going to hurt you," Vincent tried to assure him, feeling the tiniest hint of remorse. "May I have the phone?"
            The "butler" was backed against the corner of the room and his green eyes were huge in a face gone pale with fright. He offered his cellphone to Vincent with a shaky hand, still holding his other hand over his heart. "Here, S-sir."
            Vincent reached for it slowly, trying not to startle him further. Evidently, his golden gauntlet failed to inspire comfort and the young man shrank away further—practically trying to meld with the stone wall. Vincent sighed and put the phone to his ear.
            "What is it, Reeve?"
            "Ah, you sound cheerful as ever," answered the engineer. "Is the groundskeeper still alive, or did you shoot him for waking you up?"
            Vincent glanced at the petrified young man and he made a motion toward the door, inviting him to go. The butler took it without argument, all to happy to leave his presence. "He's fine. I was told this has something to do with Lucrecia. What is it?"
            "I suppose I shouldn't beat around the bush. You may be in danger, Vincent, and it may have something to do with the experiments that Lucrecia did on you to preserve your life."
            Vincent frowned. "Go on."
            "I need you to meet up with me. You can't stay there, anymore. I've made arrangements through Captain Highwind. He has a pilot in Rocket Town prepared to come and pick you up on a Bronco plane and bring you to Junon."
            Vincent shook his head. "I can't do that."
            Reeve sighed. "Can't, or won't?"
            "Won't," admitted the gunman. "You know I don't want anything further to do with the organization. Just tell me what you need to tell me and I'll take whatever measures I deem necessary."
            "It isn't that simple," argued Reeve, "and it isn't just about you. If it was, I might be inclined to let you be as stubborn as you want and risk your ass, but that isn't an option, now. You have got to come to Junon, for your own protection as well as the safety of others."
            "Your dramatics tell me you're either serous, or desperate," Vincent murmured. A spider dropped down from the ceiling and he swatted it away absently as it swung before his eyes. "I'm willing to compromise. I won't set foot in Junon or Midgar until I have all of the details, but I'm willing to meet up with you somewhere else and talk about it."
            "Oh, you don't have to worry about Midgar," assured Reeve. "It's gone."
            That sufficiently snagged Vincent's reluctant attention. "What do you mean?"
            "Right, you've been asleep for all this time." Reeve's voice was deceptively casual. "Well, President Shinra decided to blow up the city, just before an assassin took him out. Rufus is the president now and main head quarters are now in Junon, while we rebuild Midgar. We can't really do that until we eliminate the current threat, however."
            Vincent was understandably confused, considering that the last time he was awake, ShinRa was at peace with Wutai and everything was more or less under control. "You have my attention. Where do you want to meet?"
            Reeve took a moment to think about it before answering. "How about Kalm? It's quiet and peaceful. We can rent a room at the Inn and I'll fill you in on everything that's happened."
            "That sounds reasonable enough," agreed Vincent.
            "Good, then I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."
~***************************************~

            Reeve was almost thankful for the time it would take to fly Vincent from Nibelheim to Kalm. It gave him the opportunity for some much-needed rest and it was going on midnight, by the time his head hit the pillow in his private sleeping quarters. Unfortunately, things hadn't quite settled down yet. He had thought SOLDIER would take care of making arrangements to take back Midgar, but no sooner did he shut his eyes than he was called upon by Rufus to join them in the boardroom—again.
            Grumbling under his breath and spouting off choice swear words aplenty, Reeve pulled on his pants and shirt. He didn't bother with his blazer and he didn't button the shirt all the way up. He combed his fingers through his hair in a half-assed effort to groom it and he crammed his feet into his loafers.
            "At least I got to take a shower," he growled as he went out the door.
~******************************~

            The same people were present at this late meeting as before. Rufus began as soon as everyone was present, and he ignored the tired looks he was getting. "I know everyone is tired and we have a lot of work ahead of us, so I'll make this brief."
            Rufus didn't look the least bit apologetic to Genesis, and he scowled at the president and entertained fantasies of tearing his pretty blond head off his shoulders and using it as a bowling ball.
            "You run the risk of a mutiny, if you delay much longer," warned the Soldier.
Adjacent from him at the table, Reeve nodded in agreement and covered a yawn with his fist. "With all due respect, President, everyone will do their jobs much better if we're well-rested. What couldn't wait until morning?"
"I've decided to appoint myself a new advisor," answered Rufus. He stopped before the table and looked around at each of then. "And none of you are going to like who it is."
Lazard rubbed tired eyes and forgot his sense of diplomacy. "Just tell us who it is, would you? There's no need for the dramatic pause."
The president smirked. "If you say so." He leaned over the chair at the head of the table and he pressed the comm. Device on the desk before it. "Send her in, Ms. Nash."
"Right away, Sir," answered Rufus' secretary—evidently stuck working late like the rest of them.
The door opened and a familiar woman with a stripper's curves, a shade of blonde that most likely came from a bottle and a conniving, ruby-lipped smile strode into the room. She wore her signature red colors, but this time it was a satin pantsuit rather than a dress. The top opened in a V that exposed the swell of her cleavage and her hips swayed with feminine allure as she walked.
"No," Reeve denied immediately as the woman walked around the table full of staring men and stood beside Rufus. "Not her. Anyone but her. President, this is insanity! She conspired with your father and Hojo to create the enemies we're going up against! How can you even consider collaborating with her?"
"Because I consider what's best for this company, and for the population," Rufus said evenly. "Aside from Hojo, this woman knows more about Deepground than anyone else at our disposal. Unlike the professor, she's willing to cooperate with us to see the threat neutralized."
The room lapsed into uncomfortable silence for several minutes, until Lazard broke it with a sigh and a questioning look at Sephiroth and the other SOLDIER officers. "What are your thoughts, gentlemen?"
Sephiroth considered Scarlet with narrowed eyes as he answered. "I have to agree with the president. Regardless of our personal feelings about her involvement in the project, Scarlet's knowledge of it will be an asset in handling Deepground."
Beside him, Angeal nodded and clasped his hands together on top of the table. His dark blue eyes were thoughtful as he gave his opinion. "If the disappearances in Junon were the work of Deepground, then that means they've killed over a thousand people already, for some 'cause' we don't understand, yet. We're going to need every advantage we can get."
"I'm disinclined to believe half of what this woman says," Genesis said with a nod at Scarlet, "but we can presume the rest of it is truth. We can at least trust Scarlet to want to save her own skin."
Zack shrugged. "I personally don't know the lady that well, so whatever you guys think is best."
"Trust me Zack, this dame is no 'lady'," Reeve said with a scowl at Scarlet—who scowled right back. "Still, everyone makes a good point. Mr. President, if you really feel you can trust her, then I guess we'll have to support you."
"We trust your judgment, President," Tseng said with an elegant nod. Beside him, Reno and Rude nodded in agreement. "Do what you see fit."
Rufus looked to Cid. "And you? Will I be hearing any objections on your end, Captain?"
Cid glanced at Scarlet and then at Zack, shrugging. "I'm with the kid, there. I don't know enough about her to care either way. If you think she's going to help, it's all on you."
"Then it's settled," said Rufus in satisfaction. "Scarlet has given me access to her Deepground files, and she's familiar with most of the Tsviets. She'll be briefing our people on what to expect of them before we move in to retake Midgar. Meeting adjourned."
Nobody said it, but everyone was thinking that Rufus sounded awfully confident that they could retake Midgar, and they had their doubts that it would be as simple as sending in the army and calling it a day.
~******************************~

            The first thing Vincent noticed about Reeve when he walked into the Inn was the well-groomed beard and mustache. He shook hands with the engineer and scanned him curiously, noting the fine lines he had procured since they last met. He'd aged well; appearing as a handsome, distinguished gentleman now. His hair was as thick as ever and free of gray hair, so far. Vincent mentally counted and he guessed his friend was in his mid thirties, now.
            "You look good," he complimented. "How long have you had the facial hair?"
            Reeve scratched said facial hair self-consciously and chuckled. "A couple of years, now. You look exactly the same."
            "I'll never age," reminded Vincent. He frowned. His virtually immortal status was one of the reasons he avoided getting close to anyone. Companionship of any kind was a luxury he couldn't truly afford. Reeve Tuesti managed to defy his efforts though, and Vincent had dreamed of him often during his slumber.
            Reeve lifted the bottle of wine he held in his other hand. "Well, let's get a couple of glasses from the innkeeper and take this to our room, shall we? You and I have a lot to discuss, old friend."
            Outside, a festival began to take place and the sounds of laughter and music reached their ears. Vincent glanced out the window as a troupe of dancers passed by the Inn, and he nodded. "Yes, let's do that. I want to know what this all has to do with me."
~*****************************~

            While Reeve and Vincent were discussing the Deepground situation over a bottle of red, Angeal and Genesis were talking about Hojo and whether anything he said could be trusted.
            "The man is insane," Angeal sighed as he unbuckled his shoulder guards to take them off. "His obsession with Jenova is out of control. He's like a religious fanatic."
            "Religious fanatics are generally stupid and gullible fools who don't like to think for themselves and need a 'higher power' to do all the thinking for them," Genesis responded, tossing his insulated jacket over the little couch against the wall. "Hojo is more dangerous than that. He has genius level intelligence to go with the madness of his strange worship. I honestly don't understand how a man that smart came to worship an alien life form as a goddess."
            Angeal paused and gave him a dry look. "What about the way you worship Minerva?"
            "That's different," insisted the redhead with a sidelong look at him. "I don't allow my devotion to turn me into a drooling idiot."
He approached Angeal and he helped him remove his right shoulder guard. His aqua gaze was lowered and thoughtful as he deftly manipulated the buckles. "There isn't anything wrong with believing in something, Angeal. Sometimes it can help you get through the day. It's when you abandon all logic and reason to your belief of that higher power that it becomes a dangerous liability. Hojo's only desire now is to see Jenova's will be done…whatever that means. I may not be worthy to serve Minerva, but at least I have the sense and decency not to try and destroy the world to impress her."
"I can't argue with that," murmured Angeal, his voice gaining a husky note as Genesis' gloved hands stroked over his broad chest after removing the armor piece. Even that brief touch was enough to arouse him, and he tried not to be obvious about it. "Sometimes you make me feel so simple minded."
Genesis smirked slightly and raised his eyes to look at him. "Your mind isn't simple in the least, Hewley. I wouldn't be with you, if it were."
He tugged his gloves off and dropped them on the couch with his jacket, before sliding his fingers through Angeal's rich brown hair and leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "The way your mind works is more complex than you think. You see the world in a way I never could, and I marvel at your ability to put yourself second to everyone else."
Angeal put his arms around the smaller man's waist and shut his eyes, shivering a little in response to the feel of his breath against his ear. "I'm not always selfless, Gen; especially right now." Indeed, his thoughts were going to entirely selfish places as his partner's sensual allure stroked his libido. He resisted a groan as the redhead's lips closed over his earlobe and teasingly sucked on it.
Genesis smiled against his ear and his hands glided over Angeal's taught stomach, before burrowing under his sweater. The touch on his bare skin tickled and pleasured at once, making Angeal a bit breathless. "And what manner of 'selfish thoughts' are making their way through your mind, hmm?"
Angeal's hands dropped to settle over Genesis' tight, firm ass. He squeezed it reflexively through the red leather pants and he swallowed. "The kind that involve throwing you down on the bed and having my way with you."
Genesis chuckled low in his throat and Angeal tensed as one of his hands slipped down to cup his swelling crotch. "That's an old fashioned way of saying you want to fuck my brains out, but I'll take it."
Angeal turned his head to capture Genesis' mouth, kissing him deeply and silencing any further witty comments. The redhead obligingly parted his lips when Angeal probed them with his tongue, and he sucked on it as it invaded and explored his mouth. Genesis began to massage the bulge in his pants with skill, and the feel of it drove Angeal to further distraction. Hardly aware of what he was doing now, Angeal reached down and grabbed both of his companion's wrists, before pushing him up against the wall. He plundered Genesis' hot, willing mouth aggressively as he pressed his body full-length against his and held his wrists over his head. Genesis put up some convincing resistance at first, straining against Angeal's restrictive hold and growling in his throat.
Angeal clamped down harder and growled back. The action evidently met Gen's approval, because an uncommon whimper of need arose in his throat, muffled by the big man's demanding kisses. A little rough play always did it for him, and he loved to be "mastered" by Angeal before sex. It was almost like he got off on making the bigger Soldier work for it, insisting he 'tame' him before earning the privilege of fucking him.
Genesis was definitely the most complex partner Angeal had ever been with, but there hadn't been many before him to begin with. He enjoyed every minute of these volatile encounters, a thing that Angeal never would have imagined himself getting into before Genesis became his lover. Gaia, he loved his lips, and the way his tongue seductively glided against his, teasing and inviting at the same time. The feel of Gen's bulging arousal pressing hard against his was enough to provoke another growl from Angeal.
He made good on his promise, releasing Genesis' wrists only to turn him around and push him down onto the bed. Aqua eyes flashed up at him, the Mako glow intensified by Genesis' arousal. Angeal joined him on the bed and pushed him down before he could roll off, using his weight to pin him as he grabbed his wrists again. Genesis nipped at his chin and jaw with sharp, white teeth and he chuckled softly, breathlessly.
"Have I provoked the caveman again?" His fingers threaded through Angeal's as the big man adjusted his hold.
Sensing his surrender, Angeal gentled his hold on him and kissed his arching throat. "You have. It's a gift of yours."
Genesis parted his leather-clad thighs and embraced Angeal around the waist with his legs. "I'm ready for whatever punishment you see fit to give me, then."
Angeal chuckled in spite of himself.
~************************************~

            "So, what are we doing in here again?" Zack asked as he walked the corridors of the prison floor with Sephiroth. Much like Midgar, the Junon headquarters had its own holding area, where prisoners of special interest were kept under tight guard. Hojo was being held in there, along with Barret Wallace and two of his AVALANCHE members. Hollander had since been released under probation, kept under watch but allowed to head the science department.
            "We're releasing a prisoner," answered the general. "More than one, in fact. Lazard's orders."
            Zack nodded in understanding. "Gotcha." A horrible thought occurred to him and he stopped in his tracks, staring at Sephiroth through a sooty lock of hair hanging loose from the spiked style. "Not Hojo, I hope."
            Sephiroth stopped, turned, and gave Zack his most exasperated look. "Give the director a little credit for intelligence, Lt. Fair."
            Zack shrugged, looking sheepish. "Well, everyone keeps saying how dangerous that Scarlet chick is, but she's President Rufus' advisor, now. Hollander tried to sabotage the company and he's head of the science department now, and we both know what happened with Lazard, but he's still the director of SOLDIER. Gen went batshit for a while, but he's third in command of SOLDIER. I'm just saying, man."
            Sephiroth's mouth twitched. "You make a valid argument. Don't worry, though. Hojo is staying right where he is. The prisoners we'll be releasing tonight are far less dangerous than he is."
            Zack fell into step with him again. "Okay, so who are we letting go?"
            Sephiroth turned right when they reached a T intersection, and he stopped before one of the cell doors, checking the numbers on it. "Barret Wallace and his companions." He turned to Zack and held his eyes with his strange, emerald gaze. "Zackary, this can't go further than us. The guards will ask where we're taking these prisoners, and we're going to tell them we are taking them to be questioned. We'll escort them out of the building and send them on their way in a cab. Rufus hasn't sanctioned this, so keep it to yourself."
            "O…kay. Um, why are we going over Rufus' head and letting terrorists go?"
            Sephiroth smirked humorlessly. "Because this organization has bigger things to worry about than a ragtag group of environmentalists, and Lazard feels that AVALANCHE could prove useful some day, if we can come to an agreement with them."
            "How useful can a 'ragtag group of environmentalists' be, though?" reasoned Zack, scratching his chin. "I just don't get it. You guys talk about them like they're just pests, but you think we might need their help some day?"
            Sephiroth sighed. "You ask too many questions. Yes, compared to the threat of Deepground, AVALANCHE is only a minor nuisance. Once upon a time, however, they made a significant dent and caused a lot of trouble for ShinRa. They have potential and right now, we need more allies than enemies."
            Zack nodded in understanding. "That makes a weird kind of sense. You can count on me, Seph."
            "I would appreciate it if you would refer to me by rank, when we're on duty."
            Zack winced. "Right. Sorry, General."
            Satisfied with the response, Sephiroth started to use his keycard on the security panel to open the door. The sound of Hojo's voice reached their ears just as he started to swipe it, and Sephiroth paused to listen. The professor's cell was at the end of the corridor and his voice was muffled behind the layers of titanium.
            "Sephiroth, is that you out there? Can you hear me? I'll talk to you…I'll tell you what you want to know, if you'll just let me speak with her! Allow Jenova to come out, boy! It's of the utmost importance that I speak with her."
            Sephiroth glanced at Zack, who had his head cocked inquisitively as he listened to Hojo's cajoling voice. The brunet frowned at his companion and made a meaningful gesture at his head. "What a psycho."
            "A psycho that has answers," corrected the general grimly. "So far, we've failed to procure any information from him that he isn't willing to give us."
            "Uh…you know I normally wouldn't even think about suggesting it," Zack muttered uncomfortably, "but what about torture?"
            "It's been tried," admitted Sephiroth, "by Tseng himself. He's an expert at anatomy and prisoners usually break eventually, under his ministrations. Hojo fears nothing but failure, Zack. He can't be treated like other prisoners."
            "So what, are you thinking of letting him talk to that crazy woman in your head? The one that almost got you to go on a killing spree in Nibelheim?"
            Sephiroth stared at him. One thing hadn't changed about Zack as he matured, and that was his tendency to be direct and honest to a fault. He hadn't gained a sense of subtlety yet, and he probably never would. "If allowing him to speak with her will bring forth some results, I may consider it."
            "Yes!" Hojo cried, evidently hearing Sephiroth's response through the door. "I'll give you access to all of my hidden files, if you'll just let me speak with her! You must, Sephiroth!"
            Zack shook his head, his handsome face troubled and serious as he watched his companion. "Sephiroth, you can't trust a word that guy says. We all know it. If you let her out, you might not be able to put her back in. I don't want to have to fight you, man."
            Usually not one to display affection for others, Sephiroth found himself placing a gloved hand over Zack's shoulder in an awkward gesture of comfort. "If I decide to grant his demands in exchange for this information, you're just going to have to have faith in me. I've been in control of myself for five years now, Zackary. I know how to handle Jenova."
            Zack sighed. "At least you're not calling her 'mother' anymore. That shit was creepy."
            Sephiroth huffed softly with amusement. "Let's do what we came to do, and worry about Hojo's proposal later."
~******************************~

            "So, the protomateria can control this 'harbinger', as I understand it," finished Reeve after telling Vincent everything he knew, "That is, if Hojo's rants are to be believed."
            Vincent sat brooding in the opposite chair, and he placed his gauntlet hand over his chest, near his heart. "They want the protomateria. How did they find out about it?"
            "We're not clear on that," admitted Reeve. "A lot of the pieces to this puzzle are missing. We're doing what we can with Hollander and Scarlet's information, but Hojo has the real nitty gritty and half of what he says these days doesn't make any sense. I think he's finally snapped."
            "I see." Vincent contemplated the red liquid in his half-full glass, the ruby color of his gaze matching the wine. "And what has this to do with Lucrecia? You haven't told me, yet."
            Reeve rubbed his eyes and had another sip before answering. "Lucrecia's the one that merged you with Chaos and put the protomateria in you, right?"
            Vincent nodded.
            "Well, Hojo mentioned something about a thesis she wrote. I'm betting we'll find all of the answers to our questions about the protomateria if we can find that thesis. It will be one less piece of information we'll have to try and wring from Hojo."
            "Do you have any idea where to look?" asked Vincent, his gaze lowered.
            Knowing how painful the subject of Lucrecia was to him, Reeve's tone was solemn. "Hojo didn't say, but if I were to venture a guess, I'd say it might be found somewhere within the ShinRa mansion in Nibelheim. That's where it all took place."
            Vincent frowned into his collar, obviously struggling with dark memories of the past. "In the mansion. Where I just came from."
            "Er, yes." Reeve wondered how it was possible for a man his age to still blush. "That’s…where I would look."
            Vincent sighed. "And you didn't see fit to mention this to me before I left to come here?"
            "Well, in hindsight, I probably should have…" Reeve cleared his throat, flushing hotter with embarrassment. "I wasn't really thinking about it. I was thinking about getting you here and warning you. Besides, I wouldn't really know what to tell you to look for. I doubt it's in a neat little book entitled 'Dr. Crescent's thesis', after all."
            "It would probably be in the lab somewhere," mused Vincent in his low, resonant voice. Apparently, he forgave Reeve his mistake. "And it would have Chaos or the Protomateria mentioned."
            "Do you think she would have left it with the other research notes in there?" Reeve asked dubiously. "From what you told me, she was a hell of a smart lady. I would think she would have tried to hide her research from Hojo, after everything that happened."
            "True, but you said Hojo knows about it," answered Vincent, "so we may be better off searching areas where he would have placed it, first."
            "Good point. I guess this means we need to take a trip to Nibelheim and search the place—unless someone can loosen Hojo's tongue enough to get him to tell us exactly where he put it."
            "Hojo won't talk," answered Vincent with a shake of his raven head. "Not unless he wants to. He'll brag about his success and his research, but he won't give you anything he doesn't want you to know."
            Reeve grimaced, forced to concede. He considered his friend with contemplative brown eyes and he made an observation. "You know, sometimes you and Sephiroth remind me of each other. He has almost the exact same attitude about Hojo."
            "Because he's experienced Hojo's treachery first-hand," answered Vincent. "Just as I have. The man has caused suffering for both of us, Reeve."
            The engineer's expression softened, and he wished he had the courage to reach out and take Vincent's hand. Doing so would only provoke a raised brow and questions, though. "I'm sorry," he said, settling for an apology to salve his helpless feelings of pity.
            Vincent tilted his head slightly. "For what? You aren't responsible."
            "I know," answered Reeve uncomfortably. He scratched the back of his neck and searched his brain for a proper response. "But still…if I had the power to spare you all of that, I would."
            Vincent's walls came down briefly, allowing a hint of gratitude to show in his crimson eyes. "I know." His fine-boned features were relaxed and his skin was like flawless porcelain.
            It occurred to Reeve that the moment probably couldn't get any more perfect, if he were to act on his desires. The wine, the trusting way Vincent regarded him, the festivities happening outside…it was the ideal romantic setting. Confident that Vincent wouldn't kill him if he gave in and tried to kiss him, Reeve started to scoot his chair around so that he could lean in for a smooch. He knew it was probably a mistake. Vincent's true love was a woman and there was no evidence to suggest he might go for another man, if he even felt human desire anymore. Still, Reeve couldn't think of a better opportunity to find out if there could really be something more than friendship between them.
            "What are you doing?" Vincent asked curiously as the other man started scooting closer.
            Reeve was prepared to answer him, to tell him that he was finally taking a chance. He didn't get the opportunity, though. Just as he parted his lips to speak, there was an explosion from somewhere outside and the windows shattered. The concussive force of the blast shook the Inn and knocked Reeve off his chair. Vincent lunged for him and raised his cape, covering him protectively with it and his body as plaster fell from the ceiling.
            "What the hell?" gasped Reeve, stunned stupid.
            "The village is under attack," answered Vincent as he reached for his formidable gun. He rolled off of the ShinRa executive and went to the window, flattening himself against the wall as he cautiously peered around the broken frame to the street below.
            The screams coming from outside lent testament to Vincent's theory, and Reeve scrambled to his feet and procured his own gun, joining Vincent on the other side of the window. "Who's attacking?" he coughed, inadvertently breathing in some dust that had been stirred up by the blast.
            Vincent's black brows were drawn down as he looked outside. "It appears to be an army."
            Gunfire went off and Reeve winced at the sound of an agonized scream, cut off abruptly. He peered around the frame of the window and when he saw the black and blue, form-fitting uniforms worn by the unexpected invaders, he understood.
            "Deepground."
~*********************************~

            "Why you doing this?" Barret demanded when Zack opened the cab door for Jessie and winked at her. The young woman blushingly got into the cab, smiling shyly at the handsome Soldier. Biggs got in after her and they both peered out at Barret, waiting for him to join them.
            "It's been decided that you're less of a burden free than you are in our prison," answered Sephiroth coolly. "Perhaps AVALANCHE will look back on this moment and recall that ShinRa can be lenient."
            Barret scowled. "One action don't excuse everything else ShinRa's done in the past."
            "Maybe not," agreed Sephiroth, "but trust me, Mr. Wallace; you may soon find that ShinRa Inc. is the least of your worries."
            Barret frowned at the ominous statement. "What the hell's going on, General Sephiroth?"
            "I wish I could tell you," replied Sephiroth sincerely, "but that information is currently classified. I advise you to concentrate on maintaining defense perimeters and lying low, wherever your base of operations is.   That's my free opinion."
            The AVALANCHE leader regarded him suspiciously, his chiseled, dusky features hard. "You're just trying to scare us."
            Sephiroth gazed into his eyes. "If I wanted to scare you, Mr. Wallace, I'd have you and your friends hanging by their own intestines on these city walls, by now. Don't be so quick to discount my advice."
            Barret grimaced and looked at Zack. The younger Soldier smiled in a much friendlier fashion and gestured at the cab. "You'd better get going," he suggested, "before people get suspicious."
            "Come on, Boss!" Jessie called urgently, "Let's just go while we can!"
            Barret cast one more mistrustful glance at the two SOLDIER operatives, before climbing into the cab with his companions. "If we make it out of this city alive, I guess we owe you one," he grumbled.
            "Put it on our tab," quipped Zack. He shut the cab door and slapped the roof to signal the driver. The cab took off and he watched with Sephiroth as it drove down the street with its passengers and turned at the traffic lights.
            "Was the flirting really necessary, Zackary?"
            Zack turned to his companion, somewhat startled. "What flirting?"
            Sephiroth raised a brow at him. "The wink. It wasn't appropriate."
            Zack didn't have to feign his look of confusion. "I didn't wink." He scratched his head and frowned uncertainly. "Did I?"
            Sephiroth sighed. "I suppose you can't really help it. Come, I have something to do and I want you to be there, in case I start to lose control."
            Zack caught on immediately and he looked at him with worried, blue-violet eyes. "You're going to do it, aren't you? You're going to let that quack talk to Jenova."
            "We need information," reminded Sephiroth passively. "Can I count on you, or not?"
            Zack sighed and shut his eyes briefly. "Of course you can, Seph. I've got your back. Shouldn't we tell Ange and Gen first, though?"
            "Let them be, for now," answered Sephiroth. "You can call them for assistance if and when they are needed."
            Zack nodded. "Okay. I just want you to know, I think this is a big mistake."
            "These days, I second-guess everything we do," admitted Sephiroth, "but our choices are becoming more limited by the day."
            Zack had no practical argument for that observation.
~*******************************~

Meanwhile in Kalm:
            Reeve was angry for two reasons. First and foremost, he was angry that anyone would attack innocent civilians. Secondly, he was angry that they had dared to interrupt what could have been a pivotal moment in his and Vincent's relationship. Being essentially cock-blocked by an invading army of freaks was doing nothing to improve Reeve's quality of life, and he intended to make them pay for that. As he followed behind his companion down the stairs to the lobby, he relished the thought of blowing away the first Deepground operative he saw.
            "No good," Reeve said after trying a second time to contact HQ on his cell. "The reception here is shit. I'll have to try again once we're outside."
            Vincent stopped at the desk and he peered over it at the frightened Innkeeper crouching behind it. "Stay down," he advised the man. "If you have a cellar, go into it and barricade it."
            The Innkeeper nodded and crawled over to the door leading to the office. He fiddled with his keys with shaking hands and he opened it as Vincent and Reeve covered him. Once he was in the office and the door was shut, the dark gunman nodded to his companion and he moved with fluid grace to the Inn door.
            "I'll provide a distraction," Vincent warned after glancing outside and checking the situation. "Right now, they seem to be concentrating on rounding up everyone they haven't killed. You said your vehicle is at the edge of town?"
            "Yes," answered Reeve. "The Shadowfax is fully armored with a range of weapons, and I'm the only one that can operate it. If we can get to it, we'll be home-free."
            "Then I'll get us there," promised the gunman.
He started to head out the door, but Reeve hurried up to him and grabbed his arm. "Wait," urged Reeve. He looked out the broken window at the sight of men, women and children being rounded up. "We can't just leave all of these people. We have to try and save at least some of them, Vincent."
The crimson eyes glowed briefly and Vincent turned his head and considered the people outside. "We can't save all of them. You know that."
"Yes, but we can gather a few," insisted Reeve. "There's room in the Shadowfax to take some of them. We have to at least try."
Vincent reluctantly agreed. "All right. I'll provide the distraction and you try to free as many civilians as you can."
~***************************~

            Reeve hadn't seen Vincent in action for some time, and he had to shake himself out of it when the sight of his friend moving through the ranks like crimson death proved to be mesmerizing. Vincent's red cape had almost organic properties, and he could control it like an extension of himself. Safe within its confines, he flowed through the air at the ranks of Deepground operatives and he fired Cerberus at them. Some of the Deepground attackers appeared to be little more than beasts with human forms, encapsulated by their body armor. Fanged mouths opened wide and howls of rage split the night air as they moved on all fours and tried to pounce on the flowing red phantom.
            Reeve tore his attention away from the spectacle, ignoring the shouted orders of the more human invaders as they tried to deal with Vincent. He saw one of the vehicles they were loading people into up ahead, by the town bank. There were only two guards and to Reeve's eyes, they appeared to be standard operatives. So far, there were no signs of any Tsviets—for which he was exceedingly thankful.
            Reeve checked his pockets for the devices he always carried with him in case of emergency, and he prayed to Gaia he hadn't forgotten the tear gas. When his fingers closed around the small, cylindrical object he breathed a sigh of relief. Forcing his fear back, the engineer ran for the stolen hover transport, yelling at the top of his lungs. He chucked the bomb with one hand and fired his gun with the other as the guards too notice of him.
            ~Maybe alerting them with my screams wasn't the brightest thing to do.~
            The thought crossed his mind as the little canister sailed through the air and his enemies reflexively hit the ground to avoid his bullets. There was no help for it now, and all Reeve could do was keep firing and hope he didn’t get vitally hit before the tear gas went off. The yellow-green smoke poured out of the canister as it landed and rolled a few feet, close enough to affect the targets. Unfortunately, some of the gas reached the civilians inside the transport too and Reeve winced as the ones closest to the hatch fell to their knees and coughed.
            ~Well, they're better off crying a few tears and coughing than dead,~ he reasoned.
            "Come on," Reeve shouted aloud when he reached the transport and opened the door. He gestured at the bewildered people inside, urging them to follow him. "Get moving, folks! Follow me!"
            Reeve reached out and caught a little girl, handed down by a woman he assumed to be her mother. "What's that?" the child cried, pointing over his shoulder as he took her into his arms.
            Reeve turned and saw Vincent hovering over the crowd of operatives at the end of the cobbled street, still drawing their fire. Nothing could be seen of the man, except for when he fired out of his billowing cloak.
            "That's our distraction," he answered. "Hang on tight, pumpkin. The rest of you, follow me!"
~****************************~

            They made it to the very edge of the village before they ran into any opposition. Reeve stumbled to a halt, as did the group of civilians following him. There was a group of nine Deepground operatives between them and the Shadowfax, and the operatives had their heavy-looking guns trained on them. Reeve knew that one more step could result in all of them getting blown away. He set the little girl he was carrying down on the ground, and she ran to her mother with a sob while he raised his hands in a pacifying gesture.
            "Please," Reeve said to the uniformed invaders, "Don't hurt them."
            "Drop your weapons," demanded one of them, his voice muffled behind the neon-blue striped mask he wore over his face. "Now!"
            Reeve quickly did as ordered, allowing his pistol to drop from his slack grip to the ground. A glance behind him showed that the few Civilians with knives, bats or firearms also dropped their weapons. Reeve put his hands behind his head and he stared at the apparent leader of the group.
            "Okay, we've dropped weapons. Just take it easy."
            Covertly, he was reaching for the materia bangle still fastened around his left wrist.
            "Relinquish the children first," demanded the Deepground agent.
            A woman sobbed and shook her head, holding her son tightly against her. Reeve turned to regard her, still carefully maneuvering his hands. "It's going to be okay," he promised her. He turned to face their opposition again and he hoped Vincent was still okay and on his way to them.
            "We'll send the kids over if you promise not to hurt them." He had no intention of relinquishing children to these people, but he needed to buy some time.
            "Send them over, or die," countered the Deepground operative coldly. "We can always harvest more."
            "'Harvest'?" repeated Reeve, frowning. He could work out the meaning behind that later, though. His fingertips came into contact with the smooth surface of one of his materia orbs, and a mental count told him that he should be touching one of the two summon materia he'd equipped.
            ~I hope so. Otherwise I'm going to end up tossing a Cure spell at these bastards and that won't do us a lick of good.~
            Reeve shut his eyes and braced himself. "Here goes nothing."
            He pressed the materia and activated it, hoping against hope that he hadn't mistaken its location. The ground shook and he opened one eye hopefully as a crack appeared in the earth. Civilians screamed in alarm as a set of four pillars arose from the soil, followed by a platform and a skeletal, robed figure. The Deepground operatives were sufficiently surprised, and they stared as Hades began to cackle over his cauldron.
            Realizing they had a limited amount of time to get out of the way, Reeve began to herd his "flock" toward the Shadowfax. Faced with this new, unfamiliar threat, the invaders were too busy firing ineffectually at the summoned underworld god to bother with the civilians.
            "Go, go, go!" Shouted Reeve, clicking the button on his wristwatch to unlock the Shadowfax. The back hatch to the cargo area opened up with a hydraulic hiss. "Climb in, people! Trust me, you do not want to be close when that cauldron boils over!"
            Desperate for escape and terrified, the two-dozen Kalm survivors following him hastened to Reeve's specialized hovercraft. They piled in while Reeve retrieved his gun and covered them, and he backed away prudently when his Hades summon reached its climax.
            "Vincent, where the hell are you?" Reeve muttered, just as the cauldron exploded and the nearby attackers were blown away with the force of it.
            As if summoned by his call, Vincent's flowing red cape appeared and it drifted rapidly toward the Shadowfax, like some macabre kite. Reeve breathed a sigh of relief and he gestured urgently at it, yelling for Vincent to get inside. He vaulted the ramp leading into the cargo area and he started to close the doors, timing it so that they shut just as Vincent made it inside and landed on his knees.
            "Don't worry about him," Reeve shouted to the startled Kalm residents. He yanked the door to the driver section open and he dove through it. "He's a good guy. Vincent, stay alert! I'm getting us the hell out of here."
            He slid into his seat, placed his circuit-grafted fingertips over the smooth surface of the left control panel in the armrest and grabbed the mainframe jack from its dock. He pulled the wire out and plugged into the system, before resting his right hand fingertips over its armrest. Reeve's pupils dilated as he powered up the Shadowfax and went online, activating all weapons and defensive shields.
            "Hang on, everyone," Reeve announced, "This might not be a smooth ride!"
~**********************************~

            Reeve's warning was a bit of an understatement. They only made it about a mile away from the village, before they were beset by Deepground forces, riding on hoverboards. Reeve felt the shockwaves of the first blast as the vehicle's defenses absorbed it.
            "Vincent," he warned over the intercom, "we've got company. I'm activating the weapons system, but I may need your help."
            "I'm prepared," agreed the gunman.
            Reeve took his left hand off the control panel and he reached up to grab the targeting visor from overhead. He pulled it down and fit it over the top of his face, adjusting it before turning it on. The visor presented him with a three-dimensional synthesized view of the surroundings outside the hovercraft, as well as tracking and targeting dots. Unfortunately, the scanner was only able to track the mechanical and electrical equipment of his enemies. Should any of them decide to leave their vehicles to try and board his, Reeve would be figuratively blind to them.
            "Targets in site," announced Reeve. "Vincent, instruct our passengers to lay flat and seek cover behind their seats as I open the hatch. You'll need to take out anyone I miss, okay?"
            "Understood," agreed Vincent. "Do it."
~****************************~

            When Vincent saw the number of pursuers, he swore to himself. Cerberus' special properties would allow him to fire an endless amount of bullets without running out of ammo, but could he fire fast enough to take out his enemies, before one of their bullets found and killed one of his charges? The artillery guns of the Shadowfax turned to face the Deepground pursuit, fixating on the furthest group. Vincent understood when the guns blew them away. Reeve was leaving the closest enemies up to him.
            Vincent rolled as the first enemy bullet struck the metal floor by his boots, sending sparks. He returned fire quickly and he saw the culprit grab at his neck to stem a spray of blood, before falling away. A female operative got in close and rather than dodge Vincent's bullet, she jumped off of her hovercraft and into the open hatch of the Shadowfax. She tackled the lean gunman just as he aimed his weapon at her and they went down together, rolling and punching.
            "Vincent, are you okay back there?" Reeve's voice asked over the comm. Unit.
            "Fine," grunted Vincent. He met the wide eyes of a little boy just before his opponent head-butted him, bloodying his nose. "Keep…going."
            Five more of their pursuers fell to Reeve's artillery fire while Vincent struggled with his abnormally strong opponent. He finally tore her mask away, and he resorted to what Zack would have called "chick fighting", digging the clawed thumb of his golden gauntlet into her eye. She screamed as he punctured it and a gooey drip of bloody fluids spilled over. Vincent kicked her away as she clutched at her face, knocking her out of the vehicle. He got to his feet and narrowed his eyes at the next opponent, before sighting his weapon on them.
            Cerberus punched holes right through the strange, blue-striped body armor of the nearest agent and he fell from his hoverboard with a cry. Another one got too close and Vincent had to kick out at him with the pointed end of his boot as he tried to grapple his gun from him. He punctured the man's calf with his boot and as soon as he fell to the pain, Vincent blew his brains out.
            He was doing well holding them back on his own, but eventually a few of them made it past Reeve's attacks and Vincent was threatened to be overwhelmed. He employed a combination of melee attacks and gunfire to keep them away from the civilians, but he feared he might soon need to unleash one of his demons.
            That terrible choice never had to be made, however, because the mother of the little girl that Reeve had carried himself came up beside Vincent and whacked two of his attackers with the broomstick she'd dragged onto the vehicle with her. She popped the first one in the eye with the end of it while he was stunned, and then she cracked the length of it over the neck of the second. The broomstick broke under the force of her attack, but it bought Vincent the moments he needed to kick both of the attackers off the ramp.
            "Thank you," Vincent said to the young mother—who had the look of a person totally shocked by her own actions.
            She gave him a nod and a breathless laugh before going further back in to check on her son. Vincent examined the situation and he relaxed a bit, seeing that what remained of their pursuit was falling behind. The Deepground forces were apparently losing interest in them as quarry.
            "Reeve, we've beaten them back."
            "Good," answered the other man. "If you don't mind, I'll keep the pedal to the metal until we reach Junon. I'd rather not take chances."
            The hatch began to close again and Vincent nodded. "A wise choice."
            "So," Reeve answered conversationally, "Believe me now? You aren't going to jump ship before we make it to Junon, are you?"
            Vincent smirked into his collar and braced himself against the wall as the vehicle jostled him. "Yes I believe you, and no, I’m not going to 'jump ship'. I'm impressed, Reeve. I didn't know you had it in you."
            "Oh, I'm full of surprises," agreed the engineer. "Nobody's hurt back there, are they?"
            Vincent looked around. For the first time, he noticed a man lying unmoving on his back, and a young woman was sobbing over him. A pool of blood was spreading out beneath his head, evidence of a gunshot wound. Vincent frowned unhappily. "We have one fatality. I'll check the others."
            "I'll try not to jostle you," promised Reeve.
            The Shadowfax sped along the broken ground, moving with all haste to Junon. Meanwhile, the town of Kalm burned in the background, her citizens rounded up to be the next victims of Deepground's "cause".
~****************************~

-To be continued
- 18
- 19
- 20
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Darkened Skies