Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Dreams ❯ The Lost Grounds ( Chapter 61 )

Chapter 61: The Lost Grounds

 

Sephiroth was the last to drop down, letting go of the rope and hitting the ground with a crunch of booted feet over rocky soil. He signaled to the crewman above him, and the rope was quickly retracted. The Highwind planned to wait for them on the nearby Goblin Island, and with a rush of wind from the propellers, it flew away, leaving the small group of fighters down below.

 

After the initial sweep of the Lost Grounds, Sephiroth had realized it would be quite difficult to parachute in as three different groups. He had resolved to drop down and then separate from there before heading for what he could only assume was the entrance to the tunnels. He had the beginnings of the formation in his mind and was already dreading the task of separating everyone, half-afraid it would be a repeat of the previous meeting. As such, he had to resist the urge to rub a head that wasn't yet throbbing.

 

As his eyes raked over their group, he couldn't help but assess their chance for survival, fighting to keep his gaze from lingering far too long on a certain Turk's backside. Of the eight of them, only four had extensive military experience, and the battle was not going to be easy.

 

Briefly, his mind wandered to Midgar and the shiver of apprehension that had attacked him as they left. His feelings of unease lingered, setting him on edge. He couldn't shake the notion that something was terribly wrong.

 

“He has completely blinded us to his intentions,” Gilgamesh murmured, suddenly appearing behind his animus in a swirl of crimson cloaks. As if he were a trigger, the others appeared as well in defining sparkles of light. Asclepius, especially, who was quite bouncy as she embraced Reno and giggled, much to the Turk's chagrin.

 

Sephiroth frowned in thought. “Will he realize we are here?”

 

“If he hasn't already suspected it, then no,” responded another voice from the former general's side. Sephiroth turned to see Zack and his anima, the spiky-haired human giving him a ridiculous thumbs up. “Together, Tiamat and I have managed to mask our presence.”

 

Zack sidled up to his best friend's side, nudging him with an elbow as he leaned upwards to Sephiroth's ear. “Better make sure to watch the battle and not Tseng's ass, ne?” he snickered, dancing out of the way before Sephiroth could swat at him. Green eyes cast him an annoyed look, but it simply went over Zack's head.

 

The former general strode forward, quickly gathering the attention of the others as he put himself in the middle of their group, feeling every eye on him. Any nervousness he might have felt for being leader faded. He was in his element; he could handle this. More delicate matters of the heart and relationships, perhaps not, but leading a battle against all odds was right up his alley.

 

“The plan will continue from here,” he explained. “We will separate into three groups and make our way north to the cave entrance. I'm not sure what we will find there because of the extensive tree coverage. Approach with caution; do not enter until we all arrive.”

 

His gaze swept over them, mind rapidly flipping through the catalogue of their strengths and weaknesses as they waited patiently. He quickly dismissed any thoughts of separating Cid and Vincent, even if it would be better. The headache involved in such a losing argument was not worth the trouble. He wanted to balance out the three oldest demi-deities among the separate groups, as well as keep their weakest members covered.

 

“Tseng, Reno, Zack, head to the left. Nanaki and Archer, to the right. Cid and Vincent, you guys are with me,” he finally decided, critically examining the parties before mentally agreeing with himself.

 

They were indeed the best choice since he could not separate Highwind from Valentine. Nanaki and Archer were strong enough on their own. Sephiroth trusted himself to watch out for both Cid and Vincent, while Tseng, Reno, and Zack all had military training in some fashion and were a good balance of offense and defense.

 

“How far is the cave entrance from here?” Tseng questioned, already reaching to tie his hair back so that it would not get in the way of battle. It was probably a good idea, and Sephiroth considered doing the same.

 

“Twenty minutes give or take,” Cid answered, finger twitching, just itching for a cigarette. “The Highwind's scans say that the ground's relatively even. It's only the underbrush we have to worry `bout.”

 

The Wutaiian nodded in understanding, one hand falling to his side as he finished the knot for his hair, dangling close to the hilt a katana. “We'll convene at the entrance then?”

 

“Wait a minute,” Reno interrupted, holding up a hand and stepping into the middle of their group. He raised a reddish brow at them. “What'll we do if we actually come across one of these deities, yo? Asclepius told me we can't kill a demi-god.”

 

Gilgamesh's deep voice rose up easily over the others, who were beginning to exchange concerned and slightly irritated glances. No one had ever explained anything to anyone, it seemed.

 

“He is right,” the oldest deity clarified with a slight swirl of his crimson cloak. “No mortal can slay a demi-deity, and indeed, if one were able to the destruction involved would kill them in the process and anyone nearby. You can, however, defeat a demi-deity. It will send them back to Elysium and most likely into the custody of those who remain neutral in the battle and await Kami's judgment.”

 

Archer frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Let me get this straight,” he inserted, drawing all attention towards himself. “Killing a demi-deity, something we can't do… is deadly?”

 

Tiamat nodded as she placed a hand on her animus' shoulder, shooting him an amused look. “Right, my dragonet. The release of magic and power involved in slaying any demi-deity can be quite catastrophic. The crater caused by the destruction of Ultimate Weapon is nothing compared to what will happen should any one of us be slain.”

 

The engineer's face paled at the reminder of the nearly desolate area of land just south of Cosmo Canyon. Ultimate Weapon's death had destroyed almost half of the ancient forest there, taking out three mountains and flattening what had once been rolling hills. Nothing grew there any longer, and many people shied away from the space, claiming that a strange aura of power and magic emanated from it.

 

“If one were to fall here, it would be enough to obliterate half of this island, if not more,” Heimdal added in grimly, usually cheerful face sobering with the truth of what they had yet to do.

 

When Archer paled further, his face taking on the same look as some of his companions, Tiamat shot the older deity an annoyed stare before patting her animus soothingly on the shoulder.

 

“Do not worry,” she put in soothingly. “Only another deity is capable of such a defeat, and we do not want to see that happen. There are few enough of us, and we simply cannot afford to upset the delicate balance. The loss of Kronos still weighs heavily on many of us.”

 

Silence fell for a moment until Nanaki asked the question that had been plaguing the minds of all the mortals. “Do we even stand a chance against them?” the demi-human asked in all practicality, his voice quiet as his tail twitched behind him. “Are any one of us strong enough to take on a demi-deity and survive?”

 

“Yes,” answered Erebus honestly and quickly before any of them stewed on the question for too long. “You have done it before, and you can again. The Bandragora in Wutai and Mabuz in Midgar… it's not easy, but you can do it.”

 

Sephiroth sighed, not liking the somewhat hopeless tone that had taken over their group. They were fighters, most of them, and the strongest on Gaia. If their nerve failed them before they even entered the caves, there was no hope for the planet. As strong as Sephiroth was, even he could not take on Balaam and cronies by himself. All that would accomplish would be his own death. Again.

 

“Enough!” he declared sharply, raking his gaze over everyone and slicing a hand through the air with an aura of finality. “We knew what this would entail before we even set foot on this island.” Fourteen pairs of eyes, deity and mortal alike, turned to him. “You want to say it's over before it begins simply because it is too difficult?” he demanded, voice reprimanding.

 

“Oy!” Reno interrupted, face flushing with anger and perhaps a bit of embarrassment. “We didn't say we were giving up.”

 

Mossy green eyes flickered his direction, hard and unyielding. “No, but you were thinking it. I could see it in your face. You stopped me once before, remember? This is just a step up. Right now, we don't have time to think “what ifs” and “how tos”. All we can do is fight. And win.”

 

It wasn't exactly a stirring, uplifting speech or even a blast of hope. It didn't really rally their spirits or even make Sephiroth feel like he had accomplished anything by saying it. Yet, judging from the look in their eyes, something had clicked. He wasn't sure how to describe it as uncertain with the emotions of others as he was, but he did know that part of the battle had been won.

 

Now, for the easy part.

 

It was then that a hand clamped down on his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly before falling away. From the corner of his gaze, he caught Zack's self-assured grin and was comforted by it, even when the other man suddenly laughed outright, nearly startling the others in the group.

 

“Well… I, for one, am tired of standing around. How about it, Tseng? Reno? Read to take on some baddies?” he asked rhetorically, with a none-too-subtle tap to the hilt of his sword. The two Turks nodded in agreement, Tseng's face filled with determination, while Reno's cocky grin had returned full force.

 

Sephiroth nodded. “Good.” His gaze wandered to the sky, gauging the time briefly. “We're not likely to run out of daylight; nevertheless, time is against us. Move out.”

 

He hadn't expected them to snap to attention or salute, but still, shrugging shoulders and wordless movement was a bit anti-climactic. He sighed and resisted the urge to pinch his nose. Again, there was the fleeting thought that giving him command was Cloud's form of revenge. If he knew anything of children, he would've likened the entire group to a schoolyard full of them.

 

Well, perhaps not all of them. His eyes wandered of their own accord to a certain backside, covered in shifting dark cloth, and before he knew it, he was blushing in mortification. He jerked his gaze away and angled his body to the side, away from the temptation. Now was definitely not the time!

 

“You are adapting well to your new role,” a deep voice rumbled from beside him, sounding faintly bemused. “Not exactly a stirring speech but effective.” Gilgamesh laughed as Sephiroth shot him an annoyed look.

 

Erebus huffed, rolling his eyes. “Grandfather, you are incorrigible,” he commented, though he was clearly trying to hold in his own mirth.

 

“So pleased that I could be a source of amusement for immortal beings,” Sephiroth muttered as the sounds of the other groups tromping through the bushes began to fade to even his enhanced senses. He sighed and tucked a few strands of hair behind his ears. “Shall we go then?” he asked Cid and Vincent, ignoring Gilgamesh's chortles.

 

The gunman nodded, and the rather large group of five took off towards the general direction of the caves. It wasn't easy. The underbrush was thick and wild with spiny shrubs and closely packed trees. Sephiroth grimaced when forced to use his sword as a machete, Gilgamesh harassing him every step of the way for using such an elegant weapon as a mere weed whacker.

 

He kept his senses on high alert, eyes constantly scanning the dim forest and ears twitching at every sound, not that there were any. It was the absence of noise that was worrisome. His stomach coiled faintly with apprehension, and he couldn't help but feel there was something terribly wrong, even if the evidence proved otherwise.

 

It was in that moment that his scattered thoughts turned to Cloud and the others left behind in Midgar. He wondered if Balaam truly would attack when they were unaware, if they would actually listen to his orders. The President certainly seemed very stubborn, and Cloud was easily swayed by his guilt or hero complex. Suddenly, Sephiroth was not so sure of his plan, even if there was no turning back.

 

(If you doubt yourself, what do you think will happen to them?) Gilgamesh questioned, choosing to speak telepathically. (They are strong, yes. Still, without a firm leader, they will crumble. Why do you think Cloud chose you rather than assigning one of them… or worse, none at all?)

Sephiroth frowned in thought, eyes narrowing slightly. `I'm sure someone else--'

 

Gilgamesh snorted derisively. (Who? Name one that could somehow bond these personalities together and create a cohesive unit. Name one that could stand and take the burden.)

 

The former General went silent for a moment as he considered the question. His first thought was, of course, Tseng since the man was Commander in his own right. While the Wutaiian was dependable and knew more about battle tactics than most, he also staunchly refused to acknowledge his anima and was still wary around the other demi-deities. Truthfully, Tseng avoided them whenever possible and was weakened in a battle against other demi-deities by that fact.

 

Zack, while strong and not easily deterred, had always been a follower more than a leader. He did fine with small groups and, ironically, low detection missions that required speed and force. But long-standing strategy and large groups of soldiers had always left him somewhat baffled. It was the reason that he had never made it into any position of high command, despite the fact that he was a SOLDIER first-class. Still, it suited Zack just fine as he was always content to serve under Sephiroth.

 

With his two greatest prospects shoved aside, the others were more easily dismissed. The demi-human was intelligent and powerful, but he was not aggressive enough and would fold under pressure. Valentine had to be forced to take action; he was not a pre-emptive man at all. Tuesti made a good President but was far too emotional for battle tactics, not to mention that he sometimes had trouble seeing beyond the well-established lines of black and white. Highwind was easily overwhelmed, and Reno was far too reckless. Archer and Aeris were just too nice, the ninja and the female Turk too inexperienced. Rude was the only other suitable person, but he never would have left his wife.

 

Gilgamesh had a point; something he conceded with much reluctance. Of the entire group, Sephiroth was the best choice, and somehow, Cloud had known that. It was slightly worrisome, especially considering his unstable mentality. Then again, their entire group was a bit off in the head in some way or another. Only insane people would walk blindly into the lion's den, such as they were doing now.

 

(Or fools,) Gilgamesh muttered, chuckling faintly. (Perhaps you are a bit of both.)

 

The former General sighed and shook his head, returning his attention to the task at hand. The others had been rather quiet, and there was a subtle bead of tension to the air. It didn't appear that they were arguing, merely thinking dark and troubling thoughts, and while it wasn't unusual for Valentine to be silent and broody, the dark clouds hanging over the pilot's head were baffling. Erebus seemed distracted as well, skeletal hand clutched a bit too tightly to his scythe.

 

It was somewhat disconcerting, and Sephiroth wasn't sure if it was any of his business to ask. He really didn't want to know anything about a lover's spat, but considering the dangerous situation they were about to walk into, he had to make sure that they were both attentive and ready. Debating a course of action in his mind, he was mildly surprised when he swept his blade through another thick bundle of vines and brush, only to find himself staring at an open space and three gaping holes in the side of the mountain.

 

The entrance to the caves.

 

One was bigger than the rest, nearly twice his height and wide enough for six people to walk abreast. The other two, on opposite sides of the large tunnel, were perhaps eight feet high with allowance for two to walk side by side. He couldn't be certain with just a glance, however, which they should take. Both seemed equally used and worn. The ground had been swept clean as well, and no footprints were visible.

 

To his right, he briefly caught a glimpse of Nanaki's team stepping out of the brush and heard, more than saw Zack's group appearing to the left. They had arrived at nearly the same moment.

 

“So…” Reno began, strolling out of the forest and looking none the worse for wear. On his other side, Tseng looked quite disgruntled, picking a few stray leaves from his dark hair. “Which one, yo?”

 

“First things first… anything unusual to report?” Sephiroth asked as he withdrew a cloth from one of his pockets and proceeded to clean the tree sap and plant juices from his sword. One eye watched the cave entrances as he only half-listened to their responses. The tunnels appeared smooth, as if worn over with time and lacking the dangerous wall and ceiling projections of most mountain passages.

 

Nanaki shook his head, unconsciously tightening the Dragon Claw on his fist. “Clear and quiet… almost too quiet. Something strange is going on.”

 

“I cannot shake the feeling that we are in over our heads,” Tseng murmured. “Nevertheless, we encountered nothing worrisome either, only overgrown forest but very little wildlife and absolutely no tracks. According to Asclepius, there is nothing of interest here. At least, above the surface.”

 

Zack grinned then, cracking his knuckles as he stepped forward and stood directly before the caves, cocking an arrogant eyebrow at them. “And that is where we come in,” he suggested, trading glances with his anima.

 

Fenrir merely nodded, appearing beside the mortal. The rest of the group watched in fascinated silence, not even bothering to question what they were doing.

 

Both males knelt suddenly, pressing a palm flat to the ground. A swift undulation of power, light and slightly airy, emanated from them, rippling through the gathered companions and making their hair stand on end. The ground shuddered briefly, barely even noticeable to the others as the animum pair concentrated solely on the task in front of them.

 

“Ah,” Gilgamesh murmured in understanding. “It has been so long since I have seen Fenrir in action that I have nearly forgotten one of his more useful skills.” He stepped up beside his animus with a faint swish of his cloak, his unused swords rattling in their sheaths.

 

Sephiroth raised a silverish brow. “Oh?”

 

“Earth-Sense. He's feeling out the lay of the land or, more precisely, sensing the distribution of the tunnels beneath the surface,” Gilgamesh explained. “Hopefully, we can figure out where these go without even entering them.”

 

“Hmm.” The former General pursed his lips in thought before half-turning towards the older demi-deity, a sudden realization striking him. “What kind of compensation can I expect from being stuck with you?” he asked, referring to Zack's obvious ability to bond with stone and dirt much like Heimdal.

 

The God of Destruction smirked. “You mean you haven't noticed already? You're stronger and faster, even more so than usual. Wait until battle. Then, you'll see the true changes.”

 

“Done!” Zack declared, rising to his feet with a triumphant look on his face and interrupting his commander's conversation.

 

“Well?” Sephiroth prompted.

 

It was Heimdal who answered, “Below us is a rather large cavern, certainly big enough to house five of the Highwinds, if not more. It seems all three of these tunnels connect to it, so no matter which we pick, we will find our way there. I am assuming that is where we will find Balaam.”

 

The former General listened with a military air, already reshaping and modifying his plan to suit the circumstance. “They all connect to the same cavern, which is convenient. Yet, we should still take all three tunnels,” he commented thoughtfully. “If we all bunch in one, we risk not knowing what will be waiting in the others.” He turned towards Heimdal. “I assume you cannot tell me if there are any enemies?”

 

Heimdal shook his head. “I can sense the lay of the land but not if anything is within it.”

 

“But there is something here,” Suzaku inserted easily, her dulcet tones a nice change from the purely male voices. “I can feel it; all of us can. The sick and tainted presence of malevolence and ill will. I do not know what form it takes, however, so be prepared for anything.”

 

“Very well.” Sephiroth nodded before gesturing to the tunnel on the right. “Same formations as before; I'll take the largest in the middle. If you encounter anything, take it out quickly and quietly.”

 

Zack grinned and saluted goofily before leading his group towards the tunnel on their right. Nanaki and Archer merely inclined their heads in acknowledgement as they headed to the left. Giving one last glance to the eerily silent forest behind them, Sephiroth turned and was the first to enter the largest cave, the others following silently behind him.

 

The first thing he noticed was how chilly and damp it was inside, making his clothes feel much heavier in the darkness. Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to make out the contours, as well as the fact that the cavern steadily sloped behind him. A muffled curse let him know that Highwind had entered, and he could only assume that meant the pilot couldn't see in the dark.

 

The smell hit him next, thick, musty, and rather like a forgotten and now unused basement. He also detected faint traces of sulfur and smoke. That in itself wasn't enough confirmation that Balaam was there. Yet, the vague and fleeting sense of presence was.

 

Suzaku had been correct. Something was here. They just didn't know what.

 

Sephiroth kept a steady, quickened pace, the faint sounds of four sets of feet assuring him that the others were able to keep up. Still, the feeling of tension remained, an unknown shadow hanging heavily over the heads of the lovers, and it was rapidly beginning to irritate the former General. More or less, it was a distraction they could not afford. Deciding to risk it and having little training in the delicacy of such matters, he bluntly dove in, demanding answers.

 

“All right,” he put in lowly and suddenly. “What is going on with you two?” he pressed, throwing them an annoyed stare over his shoulder.

 

Valentine's eyes narrowed; he could see their slight mako tint in the dark. On the other hand, Highwind scowled, clearly not intending to answer. Erebus seemed to stiffen before quickly regaining his composure. Obviously, there was something of importance there, and he was determined to find out.

 

(Your ineptitude in such matters is clearly comical,) Gilgamesh commented, sending him a mental chuckle.

The former General rolled his eyes and reiterated the question. “This tension is stifling,” he continued. “We've no time for a simple lover's spat, so fix it already; lest the distraction leads us all to our deaths.”

 

“It's not a `lover's spat',” Highwind muttered, cutting his eyes at the heavily cloaked demi-deity on the other side of Vincent, a motion that Sephiroth did not fail to catch. “I jes don't like being used.”

 

Vincent sighed. “Cid--"

 

The pilot sliced a hand through the air. “You know it. I know it. Even he knows it,” Cid spat, jabbing a finger accusingly towards Erebus. “They're cowards, all too willing to sacrifice someone else so long as they don't have to break the rules.” He was sneering viciously now, and Sephiroth raised a brow, gaze flickering between the three.

 

“Ah, I see now,” Gilgamesh commented in comprehension from beside Sephiroth. He leveled his gaze on his grandson, causing Erebus to squirm faintly. “You told them then.”

 

Erebus nodded. “It was time that they knew, especially since the Council refuses to change their mind.” He sighed as the butt of his scythe thudded against the stone floor. “They do not understand that I am powerless in this matter, and so they blame me.”

 

“Not you alone,” Vincent clarified. “Cid is merely angry and taking it out on the nearest representation of the reason why.”

 

The pilot snorted. “`Merely' doesn't cover it, Val. If I could wring damned immortal neck, I would.”

 

“Wait a moment,” Sephiroth interrupted, even more confused than he was before, especially since it was clear no one was going to clearly explain anything. “Explain.” He drew to a halt, whirling around to face them. “Please,” he added.

 

Beside him, Gilgamesh exhaled sharply. “We are stuck in our old ways, Sephiroth, and it is Valentine who must bear the burden of it.” He crossed his arms over his chest, rattling the sheaths on his back. “He doesn't look forward to regaining his former… curse.”

 

“Curse?” Cid demanded, voice sharp with fury. “You wanna call that a simple curse? He'll fuckin' live forever, infested by those… things!! Balaam'll never exist quietly, and he'll always be fuckin' fightin' with his damn self. That ain't a curse; that's damn hell on Gaia.”

 

The Captain's blustered and vulgar babble did not elucidate anything for Sephiroth. He sighed internally and turned his attention to Valentine, certain that the ex-Turk could provide a more coherent explanation. Since the former General had no clear knowledge of Vincent's past, he was at a loss.

 

Vincent shook his head and laid a hand on the blond's shoulder, attempting to calm him. It was only then that Sephiroth noticed that he was mysteriously wearing the golden claw once more.

 

“Balaam and his three most loyal were once a part of me, fused with my mind and body. I was altered because of it, and one symptom was my immortality,” Vincent explained quietly, a strained note to his voice. “Due to a series of events orchestrated by Balaam, they managed to separate from me. It lessened my strength to around the level of a first-class SOLDIER.”

 

Green eyes blinked in understanding. “Very well. Then, what has Highwind all riled up?”

 

“The gods are cowards,” Cid interjected sourly, considerably calmer than before. “'Cause of some stupid rule, they can't kill Balaam. And between giving up their precious power or making Vincent be the `host' again, they chose the path of the least fuckin' balls.” He shook his head, movements jerky with barely restrained anger. “Vin's too good a guy to let anyone else go through the same thing as him.”

 

Clarity dawned in Sephiroth just then, and he understood completely. It was not unlike someone ordering him to willingly accept JENOVA back into his body for the “good” of others. The thought alone made him shudder, and yet, it was to be Vincent's fate. Sympathy welled up inside of him, along with anger not unlike Highwind's.

 

“I find it hard to believe that was the only option that the wisest of the deities could come up with.”

 

Gilgamesh merely shrugged. “It is.”

 

The former General sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he felt the creeping annoyance of yet another migraine. He seemed to be getting those quite frequently as of late.

 

“You've already agreed to it, I presume. Is that the reason for the reappearance of the claw?”

 

Grey eyes flickered briefly to the golden appendage before returning to Sephiroth. “I had little choice but to. The claw, however, was simply useful as a weapon should I need it and has nothing to do with being the host.” His face twisted with the sudden return of terrible memories.

 

Whether it was cowardice or tact, Sephiroth wasn't sure. But he wasn't about to ask Vincent about his experiences. It was enough to know that he hadn't been alone in his suffering under Hojo. If there was one thing he and Valentine had in common, it was their treatment at the hands of that sick and demented monster.

 

Nodding with tight movements, the former general turned and started back down the tunnel. “We'll cross that bridge when it comes to it,” he declared shortly, pleased to find that they started after him almost immediately. “For now, until we can see Balaam face to face, we will not worry about it.”

 

They spent the rest of the journey in silence, not that Sephiroth minded since he was consumed by his own thoughts. It was eerie and not comforting in the slightest. They encountered no enemies, felt no presence, though the unnatural feeling that they weren't alone didn't leave, in spite of the lack of evidence. They continued to descend further below the surface.

 

The appearance of the torches, flickering gently in the wake of their movements as they lined the tunnel, was the first sign that they were getting close to something, even if they didn't know what it was. Cid muttered about walking directly into the jaws of the enemy, but Sephiroth scantily paid him any attention, especially when it appeared they were approaching the end of the tunnel.

 

They stepped out into a large cavern, perhaps even bigger than Heimdal had described. The ceiling was high and darkened, thick and jagged spikes of rock jutting down. Sephiroth hoped that they were stable and unlikely to fall anytime soon. Just one was enough to kill any member of his party.

 

The far side of the cavern was buried in shadows and rather difficult to discern, despite the entire space being lit by torches. It carried the same odor of decay and sulfur as the tunnels, but it seemed even fainter, more of a lingering odor than an actual scent. A tingle of apprehension raced down Sephiroth's spine, and he frowned, face darkening as he swept his eyes to the side.

 

“There's nothing here,” Vincent commented softly, one hand hovering unnaturally close to his gun, as if he had expected to draw it at a moment's notice and fight for his life. It probably wasn't that far from the truth.

 

Voices alerted him to the presence of the others, and Sephiroth's group turned around, only to see the other two parties emerging from separate tunnels on either side them. No one looked worse for wear. Zack and Archer especially seemed bored. The former SOLDIER was tossing some ball up and down in his hand, only to bounce it against the ground and catch it once more.

 

“It is too quiet,” Tseng commented as he stepped further into the room, sweeping his silvery gaze around. His brow furrowed. “The lack of enemies is too convenient. What have we walked into?”

 

Sephiroth agreed with the Turk's assessment, his boots echoing hollowly through the open space as he headed towards the far end. The others began to spread out behind him, still somewhat clumping together in uneasy groups. He couldn't see anything, and yet, the feeling that they were being watched did not fade. The sensation of a presence was so strong that he nearly choked on it, leaving the former General thoroughly confused.

 

Bubbly Asclepius was the first to spot the strange object on the other side of the cavern, her eyes obviously sharper than most. “Look!” she announced, jabbing Reno in the side to get his attention. “It's a throne!”

 

“So it is,” the Turk responded dryly. “How very amazin', yo.” He rolled his eyes, balancing his Electro Rod on his shoulder with practiced movements. Like most of the others, he looked very bored as he adjusted his sunglasses, pushing them further up on his forehead.

 

Sephiroth tuned their playful teasing out of his mind as his eyes caught on something that just didn't settle right in his mind. He wasn't certain why, but there was something decidedly odd about the seemingly empty cavern. The torches flickered lightly, only disturbed by their passage as there was no circulation of air, and the silhouettes on the floor should have reflected that. Yet, they didn't seem to waver in the slightest. The shadows were extended, jagged…

 

Sephiroth's eyes widened in understanding and realization. He whipped around, mouth falling open to bark out orders and alert everyone else, but suddenly, darkness fell as every torch was snuffed out in the same moment, plunging them into utter confusion. His words died in his throat, and he whirled, trying to catch sight of any one of his companions and only able to detect approximately five bodies around him, possibly another. He could sense Gilgamesh, but that was about it.

 

Then, something scraped across the ground, and he heard the distinct sound of an object rolling before sliding into a niche with a very final thump. Even though he couldn't see it, he knew that the entrances had been sealed.

 

“Trap,” he hissed in recognition, though he had been prepared for it. “I knew it.” He swept his gaze through the darkness, finally managing to spot the dim flicker of Nanaki's tail in the distance, nowhere near his small group. The team had been separated.

 

“Suzaku! Nanaki! Light!”

 

“Sir!” Nanaki's voice echoed throughout the cavern seconds before a flare flashed throughout the entire cave as Suzaku transformed into her larger form, that of a the flame-streaked phoenix. With a flap of her powerful wings, she swept up into the air, brilliant plume brightening everything.

 

The torches relit with astounding quickness, revealing that it was as Sephiroth had feared. They were surrounded by enemies, large and small, with mirroring expressions of malice and murder. The creatures clung to every available space within the cavern including the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. With their appearance came the overpowering stench of death and smoke, as well as a crushing sensation of being surrounded by malevolence. Weapons gleamed in their claws, and Sephiroth couldn't help but wonder how so many had remained hidden.

 

His weapon was in his hand before he had another thought, and those nearest to him immediately closed ranks. They had been separated from the others by an influx of enemies, but Sephiroth trusted that they would be able to take care of themselves. He only wished he could contact them to be sure they were well.

 

“They must have been hiding behind a cloaking spell,” Gilgamesh murmured from beside his animus, the disgust clear in his tone. “It is not a difficult task for Raidne.”

 

Sephiroth frowned, opening his mouth to respond, but unexpectedly, mocking laughter rang through the cavern, nearly ear-splitting in its loudness. He whirled around, zeroing in on the location of the chortle as the monsters behind him immediately parted to reveal the throne on the far side. No longer unoccupied, the form sitting upon it was recognizable even to Sephiroth. He well remembered the look of the creature that had taken Jenova and he down in the Northern Crater. Four equally demonic beings flanked the throne, malevolence clear in their expression.

 

“Truly, the world is doomed if you fools are the best the `faithful' have to offer,” Balaam boomed, reclining comfortably. He didn't seem the least bit worried about their presence; if anything, he was assured of his victory.

 

The thought angered Sephiroth, and his hand clenched tightly to the hilt of the borrowed sword. He grit his teeth as his eyes narrowed.

 

“This ends here.”

 

Balaam cackled as his deep red eyes flashed, the fires of the underworld seemingly glowing behind them. “So you think,” he hissed as he jerked to his feet, half-formed wings snapping out behind him. “Kill them.”

 

A ragged, throaty cheer rose up from the monsters as they rushed forward to attack, wasting no time. There were hordes of them, far more than Sephiroth could even count, pouring from the tunnels and creeping out of hidden crevices. The walls were teeming with creatures, so much so that it seemed the rock itself was alive. Sephiroth lost sight of Balaam and his throne in the press of bodies.

 

“Stick together!” the former General frantically ordered above the din. He immediately drew near to Zack, standing back to back with his best friend as they were surrounded by enemies. He quickly tossed out a few flares of Fire 3 at the first wave of demons and creatures, recognizing very few of them. They were kinds he had never encountered before.

 

Behind him, Zack was hacking away with heavy-handed blows, clearing a wide path with the Zanken. “Just like old times, ne?” he shouted above the noises of death cries and throes of pain.

 

Sephiroth grimaced, bringing up his borrowed blade to block a clumsy swing from a pig-faced creature before neatly decapitating it. “Those were nothing compared to the old times,” he responded in a clipped tone as he turned to skewer the sallow-faced goblin that was attempting to flank him. Another burst of fire flared from his hands, burning several of the nearer enemies to a crisp.

 

Zack laughed, pausing for only a moment to nudge the former General with his elbow. “Say, you aren't feeling a bit… sneezy are you?”

 

The other man rolled his eyes. “That was an accident,” he retorted.

 

Zack snickered in return.

 

A plume of orange-red fire to the south of them caught his attention. It was a small comfort as Sephiroth clearly recognized Suzaku's handiwork. He raked his gaze over the battlefield as well as he could, keeping one eye on the enemies that dared come too close.

 

He managed to spot Archer and Tiamat fighting together, the human's axe rising and falling with deadly accuracy. His anima had taken on her larger form, and her huge claws and sharpened fangs were making short work of every creature that dared approach. Sephiroth noticed with a faint grimace that many of her victims were melting under her acidic saliva and that some of the monsters Archer touched were quickly taken over by a paralyzing poison. The perks of being bonded he supposed.

 

Unlike himself.

 

He swept his eyes to the right and managed to spot the bright red of Gilgamesh's cloak. The demi-deity was by himself, encircled by a sea of monsters, but that didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He fought with all three blades, and Sephiroth didn't know he did it. Yet, his anima was managing to fight using the third in his mouth. He had never seen anything like it.

 

Gilgamesh seemed to love the thrill of combat, his movements so fluid that he was practically dancing as he cut his way through the press of enemies. He even managed to take out several Behemoths in one fell swoop. Sephiroth knew that was no easy task, even for someone like himself.

 

A sniveling bunch of Frogs wandered too closely to Sephiroth, and he sliced through them with the long reach of the borrowed Masamune, almost bored as he cast a spray of Comets down on the others. Afterwards, his leader's intuition again forced him to search out the others, if only to be able to keep tabs on them.

 

Much like Gilgamesh, Zack's anima was also fighting by himself, though he kept his human form. Fenrir was simultaneously turning most of the monsters to stone and then slamming the butt end of his weighted staff into them, causing the creatures to shatter. He was incredibly agile, oftentimes twisting above the monsters' heads or using their bodies as trampolines. If Sephiroth wasn't already in a fight for his life, he would have probably found the dumb-struck expressions the demons' faces amusing.

 

“Can you see the others?” Zack hollered, quickly gaining Sephiroth's attention.

 

The former General shook his head. “No,” he called back, and then, his ears perked up, enhanced hearing easily distinguishing the noise of a gunshot above the death cries. “But I can hear Vincent, at least.”

 

“They are alive,” Gilgamesh called back, briefly grinning at them before dispatching the head of another Behemoth. “Trust in their abilities.”

 

Sephiroth blinked. Used to leading armies of foot soldiers, most of whom were little more than cannon fodder, relying on others to not get themselves killed was somewhat of a foreign concept. He had always learned under ShinRa that the only person he could count on was himself, Zack excluded, especially on the field of battle. Other leaders, other soldiers, their skills were sorely lacking, and he spent most of his time making sure they didn't do something stupid.

 

This was all so very different.

 

The others in the group might not have been on his level of strength, except perhaps a few, but they were definitely stronger and more battle-literate than any other group he had ever led or fought beside. They were paired with demi-deities, whose powers he couldn't even fathom, and for once, Sephiroth realized he hadn't gone into combat worrying over how many idiots he would lose.

 

Gilgamesh was right.

 

A weapon flashed in the dim torchlight, and Sephiroth's attention was quickly diverted. He dodged to the right far faster than the attacking beast could contemplate and slashed through it in return. Another approached from the side, and he didn't even turn before throwing a spell out behind him. It might have been an Ice 3; he wasn't even certain of what he was using anymore. Or if he even had some of the magic he cast equipped as materia.

 

He turned to find Zack, belatedly realizing that somewhere in the melee they had become separated. The distance wasn't far, but his partner had the habit of not watching his back. Sephiroth stepped towards the spiky-haired man, only to feel a shiver of cold dread race down his spine as his instincts flared.

 

Whirling around, sword clutched in his hand, his heart dropped into his stomach. Not one… but two demi-deities approached him. He recognized neither, but it was clear both planned on fighting him simultaneously. Death reflected in twin, empty gazes.

 

Swallowing thickly, Sephiroth turned to meet his fate.

 

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