Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Dreams ❯ Facing the End ( Chapter 69 )

Chapter 69: Facing the End

 

It wasn't until he was outside the door that Sephiroth started to feel some regret for the things he had said to Tseng. He had no right to demand anything of the Wutaiian and especially not to try and force him to do what he feared just so Sephiroth could save face. It was his problem and he shouldn't have tried to drag Tseng into it. Even if the Turk was their only way of finding Balaam. Sephiroth would just have to find another, even if it meant him staying up 24/7, flying over and over the land in the Highwind until he ran himself to death. It was his responsibility as leader after all.

 

“That went well,” Gilgamesh suddenly commented, spiraling to existence in a whirl of crimson cloaks on the other side of the hallway. He crossed his arms over his massive chest as he smirked, regarding his anima with an amused stare.

 

Sephiroth scowled. “Shut up,” he snarled, glaring fiercely as he leaned back against the closed door. He could hear nothing from within. “You didn't even lift a finger to help or offer the slightest line of advice.”

 

“Why should I?” the demi-deity countered easily. “You were doing a damn fine job of sticking your foot in your mouth. It was too amusing for me to want to make you stop.”

 

The former General felt the childish urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks for the help,” he replied sarcastically. “This only makes one more thing that Barret can blame me for.” He sighed heavily, placing on hand on his forehead and rubbing at the pulse that was beginning to build. A trickle of dread raced down his spine but he couldn't figure out why since there didn't seem to be any danger at the present moment.

 

“You are certain there is no other way to locate Balaam?”

 

Gilgamesh nodded, one hand dropping down to idly smooth a few wrinkles out of his clothing. “Whoever is shielding him is strong. I dread to think it is who I believe it is.”

 

Great, more riddles. Sephiroth was beginning to grow tired of them. “And who would that be?” he growled, irritation starting to well up within him despite his best efforts to dampen it. Whose bright idea was it to bond him with an insufferable anima like Gilgamesh?

 

“There was a demi-deity once,” Gilgamesh responded, looking slightly uncomfortable as his face darkened with the remembrance. “Very few remember her now and she is never spoken of. Only the eldest of us were there when it happened but...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “Regardless, none of that matters now. Persephone was the goddess of Destruction, a distinctly powerful element. I don't know whether it was the magic that made her mad or something else, but Kami was forced to seal her away, siphon off half of her magic and split it between some of us. I took on the brunt of it and when the Bandragora were born, they took on what was remaining.”

 

Sephiroth nodded as he listened in silence, though he was growing a bit confused. “If she was sealed away, then why do you think it's her?”

 

“Because the only other deities capable of creating such a strong barrier are either on our side or already defeated,” Gilgamesh answered, but there was a strange note to his voice, one Sephiroth did not fail to miss.

 

“There's something else, isn't there?” the former General demanded suspiciously. For the first time since had met the demi-deity, he noticed that there was an uncomfortable look to the man's face. It was not unlike the one of guilt that had taken over Seiryu whenever he came by to check on Tuesti.

 

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed in annoyance as he stalked forward until he was standing directly before the other deity. “What aren't you telling us? What have you been hiding from me?”

 

The demi-deity shook his head, still maintaining his perfect composure. “It would only be hiding if we had no intention of telling you. We just didn't think it was important at the time because the possibilities were slim.”

 

A pale hand slammed into the wall next to Gilgamesh's head as Sephiroth growled again, though he doubted the other male was intimidated by the slightest. But his nerves were raw and his heart was aching, not to mention he felt that he had royally fucked up. His patience was thin and skating over melting ice. It wouldn't take long before he fell in and drowned.

 

“You had better tell me now,” Sephiroth insisted, his threat null compared to the power that Gilgamesh wielded. But he was beyond sensibility, feeling as if he was being taken the fool. Now he knew how Reno felt. It was as if these deities were just playing games with the lives of the mortals, and there was nothing that Sephiroth hated more than feeling as if he were being played with. It reminded him all too much of Hojo.

 

Gilgamesh's stare was equally hard. “Balaam found Persephone in the first rebellion. If he hadn't still been trying to decipher the seal, then that battle might have been so easily won. She was the mysterious power that he stumbled upon.”

 

That was just fucking great.

 

“What else are you hiding?” Sephiroth demanded, voice gone frosty and cold. “What else are you deities trying to keep from us? How much further are you going to use us until you are satisfied?” The last was punctuated by another slam of his fist on the wall. The low thump echoed hollowly in the hallway as Sephiroth's eyes flashed emerald fire, eerily similar to previous events.

 

The demi-deity flinched slightly before quickly regaining control. “We are not using you,” he denied softly. “Nor is there anything else. I've told you everything.”

 

Sephiroth gritted his teeth, not believing the other for a second. But before he could respond, a sudden burst of power distracted him, trickling on the edge of his senses. His head whipped back towards the door, the epicenter of the surge. A sudden worry for Tseng filled him to the core and he turned away from Gilgamesh, striding back towards the door.

 

He reached for the handle. “Tseng?” he called out, turning the knob and attempting to push it open. But he couldn't.

 

It was as if someone several times stronger than him was on the other side, keeping him from entering. The surge of power continued to grow, lashing and whipping at him from all sides as if it were a physical flog.

 

The worry graduated into fear. “Tseng!” he barked out again, louder this time.

 

He began to bang his fists on the door, wondering what on Gaia had happened in there. There was no response and the power was steadily climbing.

 

Clenching his jaw, Sephiroth tried shoving a shoulder into the door, attempting to force it open while he kept one handle on the knob, keeping it turned. He ignored Gilgamesh's queries as he was, at this point, quite through with speaking to any sort of demi-deity. He would sort that out later. Right now, his main concern was Tseng.

 

Bang! His shoulder slammed against the door again. Growling in frustration, Sephiroth reared back for one more try. He barreled his body into the door at the same moment that the strange press of magic faded as if to mock him for his concern. The door flew open and he stumbled inside, his usual balance the only thing keeping him from flying gracelessly to the floor.

 

Cursing under his breath, Sephiroth quickly scanned the room. Tseng was on the floor, looking for all intents and purposes dead, and a strange being that Sephiroth had never seen before was hovering over him. Though judging from the subtle treble of power still lingering in the air and the man's ageless eyes, Sephiroth could assume that he was a demi-deity. Not that it assured him in the slightest.

 

His eyes narrowed as he strode forward, grabbing the older man by the shoulder and jerking him back. “Get away from him,” he hissed angrily before kneeling at Tseng's side, quickly feeling for a pulse. It was there, steady and strong. Perhaps the Turk had only passed out.

 

“Sephiroth!” Gilgamesh snapped, stepping quickly into the room. “That's Orthrus, Tseng's anima.”

 

The former General shook his head as he inspected Tseng, noting that the man was at least breathing normally. “I don't care who he is. We don't want your help,” he responded coldly before deciding it was best if he took Tseng to the infirmary. Perhaps someone there would know what to do better than he would. He quickly scooped the Wutaiian into his arms, surprised at how light the Turk actually felt in his hold.

 

“He over-exerted himself,” Orthrus explained as Sephiroth moved past him, quickly falling into step behind the mortal. “He was trying to find Balaam, like you requested.”

 

There was accusation in his tone that he failed to hide. But Orthrus felt he had good reason. He was Tseng's anima. He knew what the Turk was thinking... and failing Sephiroth had been one of his fears, even if he hadn't voiced it aloud. After having liked the man for so long, it was understandable.

 

Sephiroth's eyes dropped down to the unconscious man in his arms. “Did he succeed?” he asked quietly, tallying up yet another mistake onto his record. He was doing a damn fine job of destroying all that Cloud had left him to save. Not for the first time he questioned why it had been him to be made leader. It should have been left in Valentine's hands... or even Zack's. At least they were sane, or something closer to it than Sephiroth himself.

 

Somewhere in the chaos, Gilgamesh had disappeared, not that Sephiroth cared either way. His ears were momentarily for Orthrus alone. “I can't be sure,” the demi-deity replied hesitantly. “But I would say yes. When he wakes up, he'll be able to tell you.”

 

“Oh god, Tseng!” Elena's horrified tone immediately pulled Sephiroth from whatever strange state he had been locked in. He yanked his gaze away from Orthrus, immediately focusing on the blond who was stalking towards him with a stormy expression on her face. “What happened?”

 

The former General shook his head. “I don't know,” he replied. “He was like this when I found him.” He gestured towards Orthrus with a shrug of his shoulder and a sneer beginning to form on his usually expressionless exterior. “Why don't you ask the demi-deity? They seem to know a lot more than what they are telling.”

 

Orthrus frowned, confusion marring his brow. “What on Gaia are you talking about, Sephiroth?” he asked as the three of them managed to squeeze onto one lift, Elena hurriedly pressing the button to the floor where the infirmary was located.

 

It jerked and rattled as it started to climb, squeaking the entire way. Sephiroth only hoped it would make it before deciding to break down. He didn't want to have to climb up several flights of stairs.

 

The female frowned. “Yes, I'd like to know, too,” she insisted shortly, concern for her commander shortening her usual temperament.

 

“Persephone,” a voice answered as the elevator came to a stop and emitted a low dong. The doors slid open, revealing Gilgamesh standing on the other side. It was he that had spoken.

 

“He speaks of Persephone,” Gilgamesh continued, moving aside to let the others pass.

 

Orthrus raised a brow, lips pursing in thought. “I thought... Father told me that she was a myth,” he responded in confusion.

 

“Well, he lied,” Sephiroth snapped, fingers unconsciously tightening around Tseng. “Demi-deities seem to be rather good at that.” He brushed past the two elders and hurried into the infirmary, stepping quickly through the open doorway.

 

Dark eyes turned towards Gilgamesh as Elena moved between them, hurrying to catch up to Sephiroth and the unconscious Tseng. “What's going on, Gilgamesh?” Orthrus asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why is he so angry and why are we talking about myths?”

 

The older deity sighed and shook his head. “We have become far too arrogant, Orthrus. But right now, the state of your animus is more important. What happened?” he queried as they crossed the threshold into the infirmary.

Before the God of Magic could respond, the sound of loud voices and frantic movement interrupted him. Both deities turned their attention to the events at hand. Sephiroth had laid Tseng on the bed before being pushed aside by several doctors, all quickly taking readings. Then, Elena had pulled Sephiroth aside and some of the others in the party had crowded around, all wondering the same thing.

 

“You all know that we have no other way of finding Balaam,” Sephiroth was saying, a definite strain to his voice. He raked an aggravated hand through his hair, disarraying the already disturbed strands.

 

Elena glared at him. “You could have found another,” she hissed, planting her hands on her hips, her fingers twitching to grab her shotgun. It didn't matter that she was trying to encourage Sephiroth and Tseng to get together. At the moment, she was pissed.

 

“What are you going to do if he doesn't wake up?”

 

“I didn't mean for this to happen,” the former General asserted, his nostrils flaring with rising irritation and helplessness. He spread his hands. “And when I left, he said he wasn't going to do it.”

 

The female Turk snorted as she crossed her arms over his chest. “I'm sure you said nothing that would get him riled either. The last thing he would want to do is drive you away, Sephiroth.”

 

Mossy-grey eyes blinked at her in confusion, not quite understanding what she was getting at. “I did not force him to do anything,” Sephiroth rebuffed, shaking his head. “You can't blame this on me.” He had the sudden worry that everything was getting out of hand.

 

“Is that how the great General works then,” Barret cut in from out of nowhere, leaving everyone to wonder just when he had shown up, “Ain't nothing your fault and you get off guilt-free? Must be nice not to have a conscience!”

 

“I know that the blame rests on me!” Sephiroth snapped, far sharper than he had intended and far louder than acceptable for an infirmary. “I'm not denying anything!”

 

Elena slashed a hand through the air, taking a step towards Sephiroth. “Then do something, Sephiroth! You're the only one that can!”

 

“I don't know what you want me to do!”

 

Crash!

 

Silence descended on the infirmary, broken only by the soft beeping of continuous machines in the background. Six pairs of eyes turned from the broken coffee cup, lying in shattered pieces on the ground, to Archer who was standing just behind everyone. Apparently, he had thrown the cup.

 

“We're all falling apart here!” he stated sharply. “You want Balaam to win? Is that it?” His demand echoed around the infirmary as he thrust a finger back towards the curtained off area where Reeve lay attached to several machines. “My best friend is in a coma and my other best friend has a chunk missing from his shoulder. Yuffie got her ass kicked--”

 

“--Hey!” The ninja interjected indignantly from her bed, but she was ignored.

 

“--Elena's lost Raijin and Zack is near to death, not to mention Cloud's sacrifice,” Archer continued, reminding them of everything it seemed they had clearly forgotten in their petty need to place the blame. “Now, I don't know about you but my enemy is the one that caused the pain. Not Sephiroth and not each other!” His words echoed loudly around the infirmary, ringing true.

 

Amethyst eyes flickered across the room, glad to find that a few had the grace to look ashamed, most notably Barret. But Elena was chewing her lip in worry, while Sephiroth appeared as if he was trying to compose himself. Archer had the distinct and sudden realization that he might have just saved them all from another one of Sephiroth's strange and violent episodes.

 

“He's right.” Tseng's voice pierced the heavy silence, sounding weary and worn, but nevertheless very conscious.

 

Brown eyes widened as Elena hurried to her commander's side. “Boss!” she exclaimed, relief evident in her tone. “You're awake.”

 

“And alive,” he responded somewhat dryly, though he grimaced as he spoke. “My head is killing me but it's nothing that won't pass. I'm glad to see that you all compose yourself in my absence.”

 

The blond flushed before regaining her composure. “You scared me!” she retorted sharply. “We didn't know what happened and Sephiroth was being vague.”

 

“It's not his fault,” Orthrus cut in quietly, drawing all eyes towards him. “He didn't know anything to tell you, after all.”

 

Elena's eyes slid towards Tseng, asking for a confirmation. The Wutaiian sighed and nodded as he sat up on the bed, irritably ripping out the needles and IV's the doctor's had stuck in him, ignoring their protests. He swung his feet around, obviously planning to rise.

 

“It's true,” he replied, raking a hand through his disheveled hair and trying to put some order back into it. “I was a bit... reckless.” He winced again, hearing the subtle pulse and throb of the voices and thoughts at the base of his skull. Now that he had broken the barrier... he knew he would always hear them. But it was a small price to pay and long overdue at that.

 

He shook his head, continuing, “But none of that matters anymore. Archer is right, I know where Balaam is and we haven't much time.” He paused as he tried to remember the conversation that he had picked up, brow wrinkling in deep thought. “Balaam was talking about something, a device he called Apocalypto. I don't know what it was for but I received the impression it was something that stands up well to its name.”

 

Elena tilted her head to the side, frowning slightly. “The name sounds familiar... as if I had run across it somewhere in Hojo's research. As far as I know, it was incomplete.” She put a finger to her chin, trying to recall it. “Sion might know something more about it but he's all the way in Kalm with the rest of Midgar's refugees.”

 

“It doesn't matter what it is,” Sephiroth inserted quietly, staring at the floor as if it held all the answers he was seeking. “We just need to stop it... and Balaam as well.”

 

Tseng nodded. “He's right. And Balaam is on an island... someplace where the lifestream wells up just northeast of Mideel.”

 

Recognition dawned on the former General's features. “I know that island,” he replied, his eyes cutting over to where his best friend still lay unconscious. “Zack told me he awoke there... that a new mako pool had been formed.” He frowned slightly, considering their options. “It is best if we plan our attack for early morning then... at 0800 hours.”

 

Elena looked to her watch, peering at the fact. “That's... a little over seven hours from now. You think we're ready?”

 

“Do you honestly think we can stand to wait any longer?” Archer countered wisely. “We don't know what Balaam is planning or anything about this Apocalypto. Who knows... any longer and it may be too late.”

 

Sephiroth nodded. “Yes, I agree.” His gaze slid to Orthrus and Gilgamesh, eyes narrowing slightly. “And it's time you told the rest of us about Persephone.” He shifted position. “You said it is her barrier protecting Balaam... does that mean she has already been awakened?”

 

“Wait a minute,” Nanaki interjected, holding up a clawed hand. He frowned. “I'm confused. Who is Persephone?”

 

Gilgamesh sighed, shooting his animus a stern glare. “She is one of the eldest deities that Kami created, sealed long ago by his own hand because of her madness. We fear that it is her power Balaam is using.”

 

“She doesn't even need to be fully awakened for him to access her strength either,” Tiamat explained, swirling into existence beside the other two deities. The beads in her multiple braids clacked softly as she shook her head. “And it requires a good deal of energy to break the seal.”

 

“Energy,” Nanaki mused aloud, one clawed hand on his chin before golden eyes suddenly widened in understanding. “The lifestream,” he exclaimed. “That is the reason why he sought out an upwelling.”

 

“You don't just fear it is her power,” Orthrus suddenly cut in, his expression full of comprehension. “You know.” Dark eyes raked over the elder demi-deities. “Persephone is missing from her sealing location, isn't she?”

 

Guilt was evident in both of the elder deity's eyes. “Yes, she is,” Tiamat answered quietly. “For the past two weeks...”

 

A muttered curse escaped Sephiroth's lips as he raked a hand through his dyed hair. But before he could voice his words, Elena spoke for him, “And you didn't think we needed to know this?” she demanded, her tone tight with annoyance. “We've been fighting in this damn war, our friends have been losing their lives... is there anything else you've been keeping from us?”

 

“No, there is not,” a voice announced from behind them, emerging from the curtained off area that hid Reeve's bed. Seiryu stepped from behind the sheet, Reis mere feet behind him and the look in his eyes was apologetic.

 

“We merely did not want to raise a panic,” the dragon deity explained, exchanging a quick glance with Gilgamesh that none of the mortals were quite able to interpret.

 

Elena snorted. “A panic?” she demanded bitterly. Her hand flung out, directing their attention to the window. “We are fighting a war! There's not much more panic we can get.”

 

“All right, that's enough,” Sephiroth suddenly cut in sharply, moving himself swiftly between the demi-deities and the mortals. His eyes hardened into a glare. “We aren't doing any good arguing over this. What's done is done. I don't like it anymore than you, Elena, but we really have no choice. We can't win without them.”

 

Gilgamesh sighed. “It is regrettable that things have come to this,” he murmured, crimson eyes rising to his animus. “I will inform the others of the plans and we will form a strategy as well.” His gaze slid to the others and with a nod, the demi-deities promptly disappeared, leaving the mortals to their own.

 

A hand rubbed against the former General's forehead, feeling another one of his seemingly never-ending migraines coming on. Not for the first time he wondered if it might have been better if he had just stayed dead.

 

“We still leave at 0800,” he announced before sliding his eyes over the group, noting the few that weren't present, particularly Vincent and Reno. “I'll tell Valentine about the plans but I wouldn't suggest notifying Reno. It is probably best if he stays here with Mr. Tuesti.”

 

“I'm going,” a voice announced from the doorway, sounding tired and strained but nonetheless present. Sephiroth turned towards the aperture, heaving a sigh when he saw the red-haired Turk standing there, defiance written into his features. “I'm going to fight and I dare you to stop me,” Reno added, fingers clenching around the grip of the Electro Rod he had balanced on his right shoulder.

 

Mossy green eyes closed in defeat. “I wouldn't think to stop you,” he responded quickly. “Consideration is all I was bearing in mind.”

 

Reno nodded shortly as he stepped into the infirmary, passing through the multitude and heading immediately back to Reeve's side where Reis had been peering with interest through the curtain, watching the proceedings. “Good. Because Balaam and I have a few things to say to each other,” he called over his shoulder before disappearing behind the sheet.

 

Sephiroth sighed and turned towards the others. Rude, he knew would want to stay behind with his wife and Barret as well. Which was good, he needed someone to stay and protect Fort Condor if Balaam attacked. Yuffie and Cid were staying behind as well, too injured to join the fight and Sephiroth was loathe to take along anyone who did not have an anima.

 

“Elena,” he began, half-afraid that he was about to have his head bitten off. “I would like you to remain behind with Aeris.”

 

Brown eyes widened in disbelief. “What?” she exclaimed, hands clenching into fists at her side. “Stay behind? But I want to--”

 

“--He's right,” Tseng interjected, mulling over Sephiroth's decision. “You're still suffering from Raijin's loss and there's a possibility that Balaam might attack. You are needed here.”

 

“B-but boss!” Elena cried, protesting. One firm look from her commander and she clamped down on the rest of her words. Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the floor telling herself that she absolutely was not pouting.

 

She only dimly heard Sephiroth dismiss the others, telling them to get some rest before meeting at the airship at the proper time. Elena was miffed about not being able to fight. Then a hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and she looked up to see Tseng standing right next to her.

 

“He didn't say it... but I know he wants you to watch over Zack for him,” Tseng explained to her softly, gesturing to Sephiroth with his head.

 

Elena sighed in defeat, brown eyes watching the former general speak quietly with Nanaki about something. He definitely looked tired, dark circles forming under his eyes and a pinch of strain on his pretty features. He hadn't really rested since he had spent most of his time with Zack. He had also found a few moments to spare for Denzel as well. And despite all appearances, it was plainly obvious that guilt was weighing heavily on his heart.

 

She flicked a few stray strands of blond hair from her face. “Is he going to last the battle?” she asked, her eyes glancing back to her commander.

 

Tseng shrugged, looking a bit worn himself. “He had better. We're all counting on him.”

 

Elena chewed her lip in thought before lowering her arms. “Fine, I'll stay without a fuss,” she acquiesced before turning stern. “But you better come back alive. I don't want to hear of anymore sacrifices.”

 

“I would appreciate the same,” Sephiroth cut in quietly, suddenly appearing at the Turk's side. When the two looked to him in surprise, he ducked his head. “I'm sorry... but I was wondering if I could speak to Tseng for a moment?”

 

A teasing grin split the blonde's face before either man could get a word in edgewise. “Want to continue where you left off earlier then?” she questioned, cocking one hip to the side. If Sephiroth was going to leave her behind, then she was going to tease him for all he was worth. Fair was fair after all, and that blush was too precious.

 

A reddish flush danced across Sephiroth's cheekbones before he could stop it. “Actually, I just wanted to apologize,” he managed to say without stuttering. That would have been the perfect embarrassment. Where was his General calm, the harsh, coldness that had been ingrained into him? Apparently it had flown out of the proverbial window since he had never felt so frazzled in his life.

 

Tseng raised a brow. “Apologize?” he repeated, slightly confused. Elena took that opportunity to slip away, planning on visiting Aeris and Shera to inform the two women about what was going to be happening next.

 

The former General nodded, his gaze unconsciously falling to the side. “Yes, for what I said earlier. I didn't mean to imply--”

 

The Turk shook his head, interrupting Sephiroth's apology. “Don't listen to them; it's not your fault.” He shifted position slightly, well aware of the eyes that seemed to be staring at the two of them conversate. It was very disconcerting. Not to mention lingering memories of what had occurred between them less than an hour ago was threatening to turn his face a bright red.

 

“Perhaps not, but I had no business asking such things or even trying to place my burdens on you,” Sephiroth responded with a shake of his head. “Cloud gave the responsibility to me and I must prove his trust in me.”

 

Understanding flashed in silver eyes yet Tseng knew he didn't have the proper words to say to Sephiroth. Guilt of that magnitude was not something easily cured by a few choice phrases. Even if Tseng wanted to believe he was someone important enough to the other man that his thoughts would make a difference, he knew well enough that he wouldn't be sufficient.

 

Tseng sighed, causing the former General to finally raise his gaze and regard the Turk with some confusion. Pale hands raked through black hair. “Look... about what happened earlier,” Tseng began, knowing it needed to be said. “I just wanted--”

 

“--Sephiroth! There you are! I've been looking for you!” Elmyra's voice interrupted Tseng as she hurried into the infirmary, a big smile on her face. “Denzel has been wondering when you were going to see him,” she continued, not even seeming to notice the strange emotions flying about in the air.

 

Her hands wrapped around one of his arms and Sephiroth tried not to flinch too noticeably away, still unused to such personal contact. “I apologize,” he said smoothly, directing his attention towards her. “I had almost forgotten.”

 

“Well, you have time now, don't you?” she asked pleasantly, leaving Sephiroth to wonder where her apprehension in being around him had disappeared to. It was as if he had suddenly turned into a cuddly stuffed animal in her eyes.

 

Mossy grey eyes turned towards Tseng apologetically. “Of course,” he replied, turning away from the Turk and allowing the woman to pull him from the infirmary.

 

Left behind, Tseng heaved an irritated sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. His timing was incredibly terrible, it seemed. He would have to wait until after the battle.

 

Provided they survived, of course.

 

- - - - -

 

Rain battered, harsh and heavy, against the metal hull of the Highwind as lightning crashed around, sparking up the early grey sky with white luminescence. The thunder was loud enough to cause the windows to rattle and in many ways, seemed fitting for the battle to come.

 

“A bright and sunny day would have been wrong in some way, I think,” Vincent commented quietly from where he stood at the front of the Highwind, watching the scenery fly by at a rapid pace.

 

They were nearly at the island and he could feel it in the air, the tension becoming so thick that he could barely breathe. Those gathered to fight had spoken little, many spending their time pacing across the deck of the bridge or in Reno's case, distractedly tapping his Electro Rod on one shoulder. And the demi-deities had finally reappeared, scattering themselves in random positions aboard the Highwind.

 

Sephiroth shifted position, borrowed sword rattling quietly in its sheath as if reminding him of the foes he would soon be facing. “It almost doesn't seem natural,” he responded, equally solemn. He glanced at Vincent from the corner of his eyes, never quite sure how he should act around the man.

 

Grey eyes narrowed slightly. “No, it doesn't.” He tipped his head in thought, almost as if he were speaking with his anima. “As I thought... Pandemona is to blame.”

 

“But I thought she was defeated at Icicle?”

 

Vincent shook his head, a sigh escaping him. “It appears not.” He turned away from the window, a frown pulling at his lips. “Something is not right.”

 

“Sir! We're flying over the island now!” the pilot called out from his position at the helm, cutting into their short conversation.

 

Drawn by that information, the others gathered around the closest window. They were unprepared for the sight. Where once had grown thick and verdant forest, now lay little more than a barren wasteland, barely visible through a dense, dreary fog. There didn't appear to be any sign of life, and certainly nothing similar to a tribe of people like Zack had described.

 

Nanaki sucked in a sharp breath. “Why would Balaam do this?” he questioned rhetorically, horrified by the sheer desolation beneath them.

 

Gilgamesh shook his head. “My son, what have you done?”

 

“Pilot, circle around and search for a landing site,” Sephiroth ordered, turning swiftly away from the terrible scenery. It made his heart ache for a reason he could not quite understand.

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

The former General turned to the others, booted steps treading all too heavily in the tense silence as he crossed the open space of the bridge. “Weapons at the ready. Balaam most likely knows we are coming,” he ordered smoothly, some of the restless anxiousness fading in face of doing what he knew best.

 

Crash!

 

The Highwind shuddered as it roughly reeled to the right, a deep enough tilt that a few of the crewmembers tumbled to the floor. The sound of another explosion echoed mere seconds after the first as the terrible sound of some sort of engine sputtering and then dying quickly followed. Sephiroth fought to keep his balance as panic started to spread through those in the bridge.

 

“Crew! Status!” he called out, staggering his way to the nearest console.

 

“It is Ifrit!” Tiamat yelled as another explosion rocked the airship and the Highwind careened down into a steep dive.

 

Nanaki darted towards the nearest console, now unmanned thanks to the crewmembers unfortunate collision with the floor at the first impact. “We've lost the left engine!” he announced, able to understand the simple diagram. Bright crimson blinking lights were a pretty clear indication that all was not well.

 

“And the tail has been snapped! It's barely hanging on!” came another damage report, this from a random crewmember.

 

Sephiroth cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth. There was no point in throwing a Barrier into the materia enhancer now... the airship was doomed to crash. He hoped Highwind wasn't too attached to the thing.

 

Another vicious explosion rocked the airship and Sephiroth stumbled, slamming into the nearest wall and smashing his head against the hardened metal. Pain radiated through his skull but he bore the throbbing as the smell of smoke began to filter into the airship. The lights flickered before going out, only to be replaced by blaring sirens and flashing orange and red emergency lights. It seemed that they had no choice now but to abandon ship.

 

“Everyone! Off the Highwind!” Sephiroth ordered, slashing a hand through the air as he struggled to a standing position. He peered with slightly bleary vision, attempting to discern the state of his team. The lady dragon had already grabbed both her animus and Reno while Valentine had disappeared along with Nanaki. He knew they could escape with the aid of the demi-deities but Cid's crew...

 

The Highwind jerked to the right and this time, Sephiroth caught the bright flare of a fireball striking the body of the ship from the window. A hand grabbed his elbow and Sephiroth whirled to find his animus directly beside him. “We're going, Sephiroth,” his animus informed him. Before the former General could say a word, they promptly disappeared from the bridge of the airship...

 

... Only to reappear in the middle of the cleared wasteland they had spotted before, a short distance from the others in Sephiroth's team. Above them, a bright and deafening boom drew their attention as the Highwind turned into little more than a ball of flame, debris shooting off in all directions. Even the heavy rain was no match for the high rising blaze.

 

Vincent shook his head as he watched his lover's pride and joy dissolve into little more than a scorching scrap heap. “He's going to be pissed,” the gunman murmured, well accustomed to Cid's moods. He could already imagine what the pilot would say.

 

“It couldn't be helped,” Nanaki replied, adjusting the strap to his claw. His fingers twitched as he tightened the weapon. “I'm sure he'll understand. Besides, now that you're back, he can build the new one he once talked about.”

 

A small smile tugged at the ex-Turk's face. “You're right,” he replied before his expression darkened. “But the crew...”

 

“They're fine,” Erebus responded, appearing in a swirl of dark cloaks at his animus' side. “Grandfather got them all out before it went down.”

 

Nanaki raised a brow. “Grandfather?” he repeated. “You're going to have to be a bit more specific. We haven't all taken courses in deity ancestry.”

 

“He means me, of course,” Gilgamesh answered, striding towards them. The rest of their motley assortment of mortal and immortal alike gathered around, eyes alert for any sign of danger. It was rather difficult to see; however, the thick rain falling down in drenching sheets and a light mist beginning to envelop them.

 

Reno snorted, shaking his head to clear some of the water streaming out of his face. He balanced his useless weapon on his shoulder, knowing that in the dripping rain he didn't dare use the electricity.

 

“Oh look,” he commented with a dull sneer. “Another trap.”

 

Silver eyes shot him a look but before Tseng could even berate his subordinate an evil chuckle rose out of the mist, sounding as if it had surrounded them all. More than a dozen gazes whipped around as they drew into a tighter, more defensible position, weapons flying into their hands. Yet, they could discern nothing in the thick fog, except for the telltale noises of feet crunching across the barren rocks.

 

“I knew a little bird had spied on me,” rasped a voice from the north of them, accompanying the terrifying laughter. “I'm surprised the backlash didn't kill you.”

 

Beside Sephiroth, Tseng paled slightly, swallowing thickly as he recalled the pain involved in locating their enemy's position.

 

Reno stepped forward, eyes narrowing. “Balaam,” he growled, body trembling with the sudden desire to destroy. Just the sound of the demi-deity's voice was enough to remind him of his husband's precarious state. It filled him with anger, causing his blood to boil.

 

Sephiroth shot the Turk a glare, however, urging him to be silent. This was no time for reckless actions and not for the first time, he wondered if it was wise to bring Reno along. With Reeve in such a state, he didn't think he could count on the other man to operate rationally.

 

“This has gone on long enough, son,” Gilgamesh called out firmly. “Surely you've learned by now that there's nothing to be gained by this.”

 

“That's where you are wrong, father,” Balaam hissed sharply. The mist curled thickly around their feet, making the ground nearly impossible to see. “There is everything to gain! My freedom, their punishment, and the shame of the faithful!”

 

Sephiroth peered into the haze, wishing he could see through the impenetrable fog as the sheer strength of his anima's sorrow was like a shockwave through his senses. It must have hurt terribly, to be forced to fight against one's own kin... not that Sephiroth would know the feeling.

 

“This is not the way, Balaam!” Tiamat cried, trying to reason with him. “Can't you see that all you are causing is destruction? Is that what you want?”

 

More laughter, from more than one voice bubbled up around them, cruel and mocking. It felt as if their small group was surrounded, making them unconsciously draw closer together. With their senses masked by the thick fog, they very much felt as if they were on unsteady ground.

 

There was a derisive snort. “What I want never seemed to matter, did it? But I thank you for falling into my trap. It makes it that much easier to watch you die!”

 

Reno growled angrily, eyes narrowing until they were little more than glowing mako slits. “Not if I stop you first!” he screamed, suddenly sprinting forward into the mist.

 

“Reno! Get back here!” Nanaki shouted, darting after the rampaging Turk. He had every intention of dragging the reckless man back to their group. If they were going to survive, they needed to stick together.

 

“No! Don't!” Sephiroth called only to grit his teeth in irritation as the two men disappeared in the fog. There was movement on the corner of his vision and he suddenly thrust out a hand. “No,” he ordered, stopping Tseng before he could chase after the other two. “I can't afford to lose anymore in the mist.”

 

Balaam laughed. “One, two, nine or twenty! Bring all you have in opposition of me but nothing can stand against her.” Lightning crackled above them, momentarily blinding Sephiroth and his team before dark shapes suddenly began to appear in the fog surrounding them, indistinct but present nonetheless.

 

“Only minutes remain before Apocalypto is complete.”

 

“Apocalypto,” Sephiroth breathed, horror gripping his heart. He had nearly forgotten about it. “Tseng, can you find it... even in this fog?”

 

The Wutaiian's brow furrowed but he nodded nonetheless. “I am certain,” he replied, fingers tightening around the hilt of one of his swords.

 

The former General nodded. “Good. I'm leaving it to you and Orthrus then.” Mossy green eyes found silver orbs. “I'm counting on you.”

 

“We'll blend with the mist,” Orthrus murmured, laying one hand on his animus' shoulder. He exchanged glances with Tseng and before Sephiroth could murmur another word, the two promptly disappeared in front of his eyes. He knew they were there, able to feel their presence, but his sight was unable to distinguish their forms... a truly remarkable ability.

 

Sephiroth returned his attention to the approaching shapes as Vincent stepped up beside him. “I have the feeling more is going on than we are aware,” the gunman stated.

 

The former General nodded. “On your guard--oomph!” He jerked backwards as some unknown weight barreled into him, his senses warning him far too late for the attack.

 

Grey eyes widened as Sephiroth disappeared from his sight, body rolling into the thick mist wrapped around that of another unidentified individual. “Sephiroth!” he called, already turning to follow.

 

Until a form stepped out of the fog, pausing directly in front of him and cutting him off. Archer drew to a halt behind him as Gilgamesh teleported away, presumably to find his animus.

 

“Oh, don't worry about him,” came Balaam's mocking voice as his form gradually came into view, flanked by four other demi-deities, only two of which the former Turk recognized - Ifrit and Cactuar. “You should be more concerned with yourselves,” he finished, the threat clear in his features.

 

The battle had begun.

 

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