[FF7-AC] Empire: Chapter 7
[FF7-AC] Empire: Chapter 7
Rating PG-13 - Status: In progress - Chapter 7/? - Warnings: None
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Rude/Reno
Fic summary: Post-AC, barreling down the road to the reconstruction of Shinra Company. A Hero, A President, a new world, and the politics that draw them all into a tangled web beyond all ability to forecast.
Chapter Summary: In which Cloud has some weird dreams, the past comes knocking, and Rufus goes to Midgar.
For xandrabelle, because I promised.
VII
In his dreams the handle of the Door was cold under his fingers. He could feel his heart beating: thumping rapidly against his ribs as if he were a rookie out on his first mission again.
What are you afraid of? he wondered. The Door was dark wood, almost black, ancient and forbidding. It called to mind early memories of Nibelheim by night, when fog came down from the mountain and shrouded the village, and everyone huddled indoors and slept with a light.
It’s a dream, he told himself firmly. You’ve come this far. You have to open the Door. Just do it. Face whatever lies beyond.
Fears did not go away on their own, he had learnt. They had to be faced, faced down, and conquered, but then they would disappear, vanishing like that mountain fog in the morning sun.
Do it, he ordered himself firmly.
His fingers tightened, curling around brass, and tugged.
He was running across a rooftop. No, the Shinra Tower rooftop, the large number 70 embossed in silver flickering at the corner of his vision. A helicopter whirred, the beat of its blades drowning out his pounding footsteps as he drew the Buster Sword.
Rufus stood before him, eyes narrowed, shotgun resting against his shoulder.
I guess this means we can’t be friends.
The Buster Sword was a comfortable weight in his hands, but somehow different -- oh, it was his old sword, the one that he had gotten when he had become a SOLDIER
--I wasn’t a SOLDIER--
and he swung it up to block the first round of shells. There was the harsh ring of metal against metal, and he narrowed his eyes and lunged before Rufus had a chance to reload.
His sword spun a glittering arc against the star-festooned night sky, slashing right across Rufus’ throat.
He shot awake, right arm still out flung and his breath echoing in harsh gasps. That hadn’t been the way it had gone. There had been a barrier. Dark Nation’s barrier. His sword had hit that and been deflected and Rufus had put a shotgun round into him at close range that would have ended any normal human being’s life there and then. He had ducked out of the way of that one, winced as it tore across his side, and reversed the sword swing to bring it down on Dark Nation’s head instead.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was still there, the arc of his sword trailing down, following the same path that the scar on Rufus’ throat traced.
That’s just it. I’m mixing up memories. Just a dream. Nothing more.
Why does it disturb me so much, then?
He cast his mind through the memories again, running through--
--slashing right across Rufus’ throat as the boy turned to him with a wide eyed stare of utter betrayal--
"Shiva," he swore, pushing the covers away and heading shakily towards the bathroom to splash some water across his face. That had definitely never happened. Just a nightmare. Unexpected, unpleasant, and therefore troubling. That was all. Nothing more to it.
The water in winter was cold enough to have a serious bite, which chased away the final dregs of the dream. He dried his face off on a towel, ran his fingers through his hair and strolled out of the bathroom, idly running through his itinerary for the day. There wasn’t much, really, just a few in-city deliveries. He’d have to find more work. Or perhaps he could just take the second half of the day off and go and spend some time with the children and Tifa. They deserved it, he thought guiltily. He had been avoiding them for weeks now.
The shrill of his PHS interrupted his thoughts, and he grabbed it off the bedside table, flicking it on without checking the caller ID.
"This is Cloud."
"Strife."
"Tseng?" he demanded, whipping the phone away from his ear to check the name flashing across the LCD again. Of all the unpleasant things to wake up to...
"Yes," the Turk returned, curt and professional. "I have some important information for you."
"What information? I told you I don’t want anything to do with Shinra Company--"
"This has nothing to do with Shinra Company. Or rather, only indirectly. It concerns one Zack, SOLDIER 1st class."
"What?"
"We were reviewing certain records within the Company database. Some of the files we uncovered may be of interest to you."
"Blackmail, Tseng? Trying to expose unpleasant parts of the past? Zack is dead. Let him rest in peace."
"It is not that. It concerns... a mission that was off the chart. A mission that involved a SOLDIER first class, who was ordered to escort one Vice President Rufus on a business trip to the Icicle Area."
"What does this have to do with me?" Cloud said, although he could practically feel the icy claws of premonition digging in. The Turks wouldn’t be happily handing over classified information like this if there wasn’t a reason. "Did Rufus order you to give it to me?"
"Rufus does not know that this file exists. It is merely for your information. Unless you wish to suggest a venue, I will be dropping the file off at the 7th Heaven in two hours. What you choose to do with that information is entirely up to you. It’s old enough to be declassified."
Old enough to be declassified.
"It wasn’t that long ago that Rufus was Vice President."
"No, but the regime has changed since then. In two hours, then, at the 7th Heaven?"
"Very well," Cloud replied, and hung up without waiting for a response.
--
"Mmm," Rufus mumbled, as Tseng returned from wherever he had gone. "If I’m not allowed to work, you’re not allowed to work either."
Tseng blinked in surprise, and Rufus returned him a sleepy smile. "Come back to bed."
"I have to go to Midgar."
"Midgar." He raised an eyebrow. "Immediately?"
"Yes sir."
"Why was I not informed of this development?"
"That’s why I’m here," Tseng returned dryly. "To inform you of this development. Our searches on the Midgar database have yielded certain classified files which we believe may be of interest to you. They are encrypted at the highest level, and too extensive to transfer onto the main frame, given our present limited resources, so we think it best if you go in person to review them. I will be going ahead to secure the area."
Rufus cocked his head to one side, a gesture he only ever used in private. "Information so vital that it makes you interrupt my convalescence?"
"It may be. In any case, you did order us to inform you if there was anything to be found."
"No hint of what the contents may be."
Tseng ducked his head. "I recall a certain mission as a junior Turk almost fifteen years ago. It was the destruction of certain physical copies of certain files. I believe... the reference numbers may match."
Rufus sat up, all hint of sleepiness gone. "And?"
"They were blueprints, sir. From certain rival companies that Shinra acquired, and subsequently hid away. I do not know the contents, but I believe that one can postulate."
Rufus’ responding smile was razor sharp. "Yes," he said softly. "I believe that one can."
--
Cloud stared at the innocuous manila folder that Tseng had just passed to him. The Turk had blazed in like a whirlwind, not bothering to even power down the helicopter. Dropped the file off and vanished again, gently but firmly fending off Denzel’s pleas to give him a helicopter ride.
"Why would Shinra be giving you stuff?" Tifa asked, as he sat at the bar, still staring at the closed folder.
"I don’t know. They said it concerned Zack. I don’t know why they would give me stuff that concerned Zack."
"Open it!" Marlene ordered, climbing on a stool to peer.
"It may be classified," Cloud said apologetically. "I’m not sure I can show it to you."
"They wouldn’t have given it to you to do as you like if it was still classified," Tifa pointed out.
But the regime has changed since then.
How utterly cryptic.
Cloud frowned, and flipped the cover open.
There had been a mission. One Zack, SOLDIER first class, ordered to escort one Rufus Shinra, Vice President, to the Icicle Area to initiate talks with the Bone Village archaeologists for the renewal of a contract to supply excavation equipment. The former on sick leave, just pulled off the Wutai frontline to recover from extensive injuries, the latter freshly minted. One sixteen, one fourteen.
Barely more than children.
The first printout contained the official orders, the format all too familiar to him. The objectives. The details. The departure times and a few sheets of invoices for equipment and transport claims. He flipped that over, expecting to find the a mid or post mission report.
A second set of orders gleamed at him, stamped top secret. Not in the official format, but labeled as a record of an otherwise off-the-record briefing, transcribed by the Department of Administrative Research.
There had been a second mission. One Zack, SOLDIER first class, ordered to eliminate one Rufus Shinra, Vice President, on a trip to the Icicle Area.
"What is it?" Tifa asked, obviously picking up on his sudden change in expression.
"I’m still reading," he called back.
We are aware of a certain amount of discontent you have with the way the Wutai war has been progressing.
No comment, sir.
It’s alright. We understand. In fact, you might be interested to know that the bombing of that civilian village wasn’t something we intended at all. It was a terrible, tragic waste of life. Don’t you agree, SOLDIER?
Sir.
Those unfortunate orders did not, in actuality, come from the President. They came from the Vice President.
We have a Vice President?
He was appointed while you were away. It’s the President’s son. Rufus. However, we find now that we have made a rather drastic mistake. The boy has certain delusions and certain theories about ruling the world that are unacceptable. And as is evident from the Wutai tragedy, he has just overstepped the boundaries of his authority. I’m afraid that he is has become a threat to Shinra Company.
"Cloud? Cloud, you’ve been staring at a blank page for five minutes now."
You are to eliminate him as quietly as possible. Make it seem like an accident. We cannot afford to allow our enemies to know of this schism in the highest echelons of the Company. Do you understand?
He’s just a boy.
You underestimate him. He just had several villages completely eliminated in cold blood. That is no boy.
"Cloud?"
"Huh-- I--"
He glanced up, to find Tifa staring at him in concern, one hand resting on the page of the report that he had been--
--no, the page was blank, except for the words labeling that the record had been destroyed. There had been no transcript. There had been nothing but... words whispering in his head.
A memory. I remember-- no, Zack remembers. What happened then? Did he fail?
He couldn’t remember any more. The chain of thought had been broken, and try as he might, he couldn’t summon Zack’s memories on command. He turned the page again, finding a hospitalization record instead, listing one Rufus Shinra as critically injured.
His sword prescribing a glittering arc against the star-festooned sky...
The chair smashed to the ground as he stood, eyes unseeing and mind a million miles away.
Dream or memory, he didn’t know any more. Saw, in slow motion, the blade slicing through the open V of Rufus’ collared shirt (black, of course, to match the white jacket) -- but Rufus never wore collared shirts -- saw the man -- boy -- spin away, heard voices raised in anger as the Shinra heir fell to the ground, choking on blood and reaching for his materia and a wide eyed stare of utter betrayal....
What happened? How? Why? Zack wouldn’t do something like that. Zack wouldn’t... he couldn’t have. Rufus obviously got away. Zack never got... Zack wouldn’t...
His hand was shaking as he grabbed his PHS, fingers streaking across the buttons. There was a ring tone: once, twice...
"This is Tseng."
"The file. I... what happened?"
"Everything that we know is contained in that folder," Tseng said flatly, and Cloud could hear, in the background, someone’s voice raised in a query. "Anything else is contained in your memory."
"And Rufus’."
"Yes."
"Where is he? I need to talk to him. Now."
A pause. "I will convey your intention to met--" another pause, and the muted sounds of conversation in the background. "Shinra HQ in Midgar. Call when you arrive."
"What are you doing there?"
"At your earliest convenience, Strife." The line went dead.
--
The wind ruffled his hair as he stepped out of the helicopter, wary of the unsteady footing. Meteor had wrecked the Shinra Tower, Sephiroth had come round to finish the job. Eyewitnesses said that the General had cleaved the tower in two, although Rufus found that a tad incredible. Weakened it, more likely, causing a pre-existing fault to tear apart.
Either way, the entire place was a mess now. The Turks, sans Elena, were waiting, Reno and Rude a distance away and on the lookout, Tseng hovering anxiously beside him to assist as necessary. Rufus waved him away and started across the path they had cleared, craning his head to look up.
It was his first time back. He’d lived in the shadow of his ruined city for years now, looking out at it from his window in Healin, and later, from their new base of operations in Edge. He thought that he had gotten over its destruction... but it was with a pang in his heart that he paused before the great doors that once led into the lobby. It was with a pang that he recalled its days of glory, with people bustling in and out at all hours, lights shining and the glow of the reactors arrayed like sentinels on the fringes of the city.
Once, I ruled the world.
Once, this was home.
Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the ruins, taking a deep breath to push the ghosts of yesteryear away. Oh how the mighty have fallen, so many people said, mockingly, but perhaps they failed to recognize that it was also for the best. Occasionally, the mighty had to be torn down to be rebuilt again, to emerge stronger than ever before.
Or so he hoped. And if fortune still smiled on them, the information that he was about to retrieve would be instrumental in making that happen.
Even if I do not live to see it through.
He paused, frowning at the stray thought that brushed across the surface of his mind. He was given to morbidity, on occasion, but he had been convinced that he had left that behind a long time ago...
It will be a long road, he realized, following Tseng’s lead through the sections of the building that still remained intact. My father turned the Company from a mere weapons producer, one of many, into the leading force of the world. But that was a different time, with different concerns, and no shadow of the past hanging over us. And no silver bullets like we once thought mako to be.
Tseng’s PHS shrilled and Rufus came to a halt as the Turk pulled out his phone. "Everything we know is contained in that folder."
Rufus frowned. "What folder?"
Tseng gave him an apologetic nod, speaking rapidly to the other party. Glanced over to him as he mentioned something about a meeting.
"Who is it?" Rufus queried.
Strife, Tseng mouthed back.
"I’ll see him."
Are you certain? Tseng’s raised eyebrow conveyed.
"Absolutely."
"Shinra HQ in Midgar. Call when you arrive," Tseng relayed. "At your earliest convenience, Strife."
"Is there something you neglected to tell me?" Rufus asked, as the Turk snapped his PHS shut.
"I passed on some information. Relating to your first trip to the Icicle area."
He didn’t need a mirror to tell what his expression was. He had seen it reflected too often in the wide-eyed, fearful stares of employees and opponents alike. Ice would have been warmer, he sometimes heard them whisper after. And Death kinder.
Tseng met his gaze full on, and did not apologize.
"I did not give you leave to give away classified information without my approval," he said softly.
"You authorized us to act in your best interests."
"I told you to stop calling Cloud."
"I simply persuaded him to come to you of his own volition." Black eyes regarded him steadily, with nothing but warmth in their depths. "You need him. You said as much."
"You throw a spanner into the works."
"I created an opportunity. I trust that the President will be able to grasp hold of it and turn it to his advantage."
Rufus’ fingers traced the line of the scar at his throat. "The President will have to."
To be continued.
A/N: Annnnnnnnd thank you for all the kind comments regarding the last installment! Yes, indeed, I’m trying to do something with Reeve, but that’ll emerge later. In the meantime, may this go out and cheer some people who’ve been waiting so patiently for the update!
Rating PG-13 - Status: In progress - Chapter 7/? - Warnings: None
Pairings: Tseng/Rufus, Rude/Reno
Fic summary: Post-AC, barreling down the road to the reconstruction of Shinra Company. A Hero, A President, a new world, and the politics that draw them all into a tangled web beyond all ability to forecast.
Chapter Summary: In which Cloud has some weird dreams, the past comes knocking, and Rufus goes to Midgar.
For xandrabelle, because I promised.
VII
In his dreams the handle of the Door was cold under his fingers. He could feel his heart beating: thumping rapidly against his ribs as if he were a rookie out on his first mission again.
What are you afraid of? he wondered. The Door was dark wood, almost black, ancient and forbidding. It called to mind early memories of Nibelheim by night, when fog came down from the mountain and shrouded the village, and everyone huddled indoors and slept with a light.
It’s a dream, he told himself firmly. You’ve come this far. You have to open the Door. Just do it. Face whatever lies beyond.
Fears did not go away on their own, he had learnt. They had to be faced, faced down, and conquered, but then they would disappear, vanishing like that mountain fog in the morning sun.
Do it, he ordered himself firmly.
His fingers tightened, curling around brass, and tugged.
He was running across a rooftop. No, the Shinra Tower rooftop, the large number 70 embossed in silver flickering at the corner of his vision. A helicopter whirred, the beat of its blades drowning out his pounding footsteps as he drew the Buster Sword.
Rufus stood before him, eyes narrowed, shotgun resting against his shoulder.
I guess this means we can’t be friends.
The Buster Sword was a comfortable weight in his hands, but somehow different -- oh, it was his old sword, the one that he had gotten when he had become a SOLDIER
--I wasn’t a SOLDIER--
and he swung it up to block the first round of shells. There was the harsh ring of metal against metal, and he narrowed his eyes and lunged before Rufus had a chance to reload.
His sword spun a glittering arc against the star-festooned night sky, slashing right across Rufus’ throat.
He shot awake, right arm still out flung and his breath echoing in harsh gasps. That hadn’t been the way it had gone. There had been a barrier. Dark Nation’s barrier. His sword had hit that and been deflected and Rufus had put a shotgun round into him at close range that would have ended any normal human being’s life there and then. He had ducked out of the way of that one, winced as it tore across his side, and reversed the sword swing to bring it down on Dark Nation’s head instead.
He squeezed his eyes shut, but the image was still there, the arc of his sword trailing down, following the same path that the scar on Rufus’ throat traced.
That’s just it. I’m mixing up memories. Just a dream. Nothing more.
Why does it disturb me so much, then?
He cast his mind through the memories again, running through--
--slashing right across Rufus’ throat as the boy turned to him with a wide eyed stare of utter betrayal--
"Shiva," he swore, pushing the covers away and heading shakily towards the bathroom to splash some water across his face. That had definitely never happened. Just a nightmare. Unexpected, unpleasant, and therefore troubling. That was all. Nothing more to it.
The water in winter was cold enough to have a serious bite, which chased away the final dregs of the dream. He dried his face off on a towel, ran his fingers through his hair and strolled out of the bathroom, idly running through his itinerary for the day. There wasn’t much, really, just a few in-city deliveries. He’d have to find more work. Or perhaps he could just take the second half of the day off and go and spend some time with the children and Tifa. They deserved it, he thought guiltily. He had been avoiding them for weeks now.
The shrill of his PHS interrupted his thoughts, and he grabbed it off the bedside table, flicking it on without checking the caller ID.
"This is Cloud."
"Strife."
"Tseng?" he demanded, whipping the phone away from his ear to check the name flashing across the LCD again. Of all the unpleasant things to wake up to...
"Yes," the Turk returned, curt and professional. "I have some important information for you."
"What information? I told you I don’t want anything to do with Shinra Company--"
"This has nothing to do with Shinra Company. Or rather, only indirectly. It concerns one Zack, SOLDIER 1st class."
"What?"
"We were reviewing certain records within the Company database. Some of the files we uncovered may be of interest to you."
"Blackmail, Tseng? Trying to expose unpleasant parts of the past? Zack is dead. Let him rest in peace."
"It is not that. It concerns... a mission that was off the chart. A mission that involved a SOLDIER first class, who was ordered to escort one Vice President Rufus on a business trip to the Icicle Area."
"What does this have to do with me?" Cloud said, although he could practically feel the icy claws of premonition digging in. The Turks wouldn’t be happily handing over classified information like this if there wasn’t a reason. "Did Rufus order you to give it to me?"
"Rufus does not know that this file exists. It is merely for your information. Unless you wish to suggest a venue, I will be dropping the file off at the 7th Heaven in two hours. What you choose to do with that information is entirely up to you. It’s old enough to be declassified."
Old enough to be declassified.
"It wasn’t that long ago that Rufus was Vice President."
"No, but the regime has changed since then. In two hours, then, at the 7th Heaven?"
"Very well," Cloud replied, and hung up without waiting for a response.
--
"Mmm," Rufus mumbled, as Tseng returned from wherever he had gone. "If I’m not allowed to work, you’re not allowed to work either."
Tseng blinked in surprise, and Rufus returned him a sleepy smile. "Come back to bed."
"I have to go to Midgar."
"Midgar." He raised an eyebrow. "Immediately?"
"Yes sir."
"Why was I not informed of this development?"
"That’s why I’m here," Tseng returned dryly. "To inform you of this development. Our searches on the Midgar database have yielded certain classified files which we believe may be of interest to you. They are encrypted at the highest level, and too extensive to transfer onto the main frame, given our present limited resources, so we think it best if you go in person to review them. I will be going ahead to secure the area."
Rufus cocked his head to one side, a gesture he only ever used in private. "Information so vital that it makes you interrupt my convalescence?"
"It may be. In any case, you did order us to inform you if there was anything to be found."
"No hint of what the contents may be."
Tseng ducked his head. "I recall a certain mission as a junior Turk almost fifteen years ago. It was the destruction of certain physical copies of certain files. I believe... the reference numbers may match."
Rufus sat up, all hint of sleepiness gone. "And?"
"They were blueprints, sir. From certain rival companies that Shinra acquired, and subsequently hid away. I do not know the contents, but I believe that one can postulate."
Rufus’ responding smile was razor sharp. "Yes," he said softly. "I believe that one can."
--
Cloud stared at the innocuous manila folder that Tseng had just passed to him. The Turk had blazed in like a whirlwind, not bothering to even power down the helicopter. Dropped the file off and vanished again, gently but firmly fending off Denzel’s pleas to give him a helicopter ride.
"Why would Shinra be giving you stuff?" Tifa asked, as he sat at the bar, still staring at the closed folder.
"I don’t know. They said it concerned Zack. I don’t know why they would give me stuff that concerned Zack."
"Open it!" Marlene ordered, climbing on a stool to peer.
"It may be classified," Cloud said apologetically. "I’m not sure I can show it to you."
"They wouldn’t have given it to you to do as you like if it was still classified," Tifa pointed out.
But the regime has changed since then.
How utterly cryptic.
Cloud frowned, and flipped the cover open.
There had been a mission. One Zack, SOLDIER first class, ordered to escort one Rufus Shinra, Vice President, to the Icicle Area to initiate talks with the Bone Village archaeologists for the renewal of a contract to supply excavation equipment. The former on sick leave, just pulled off the Wutai frontline to recover from extensive injuries, the latter freshly minted. One sixteen, one fourteen.
Barely more than children.
The first printout contained the official orders, the format all too familiar to him. The objectives. The details. The departure times and a few sheets of invoices for equipment and transport claims. He flipped that over, expecting to find the a mid or post mission report.
A second set of orders gleamed at him, stamped top secret. Not in the official format, but labeled as a record of an otherwise off-the-record briefing, transcribed by the Department of Administrative Research.
There had been a second mission. One Zack, SOLDIER first class, ordered to eliminate one Rufus Shinra, Vice President, on a trip to the Icicle Area.
"What is it?" Tifa asked, obviously picking up on his sudden change in expression.
"I’m still reading," he called back.
We are aware of a certain amount of discontent you have with the way the Wutai war has been progressing.
No comment, sir.
It’s alright. We understand. In fact, you might be interested to know that the bombing of that civilian village wasn’t something we intended at all. It was a terrible, tragic waste of life. Don’t you agree, SOLDIER?
Sir.
Those unfortunate orders did not, in actuality, come from the President. They came from the Vice President.
We have a Vice President?
He was appointed while you were away. It’s the President’s son. Rufus. However, we find now that we have made a rather drastic mistake. The boy has certain delusions and certain theories about ruling the world that are unacceptable. And as is evident from the Wutai tragedy, he has just overstepped the boundaries of his authority. I’m afraid that he is has become a threat to Shinra Company.
"Cloud? Cloud, you’ve been staring at a blank page for five minutes now."
You are to eliminate him as quietly as possible. Make it seem like an accident. We cannot afford to allow our enemies to know of this schism in the highest echelons of the Company. Do you understand?
He’s just a boy.
You underestimate him. He just had several villages completely eliminated in cold blood. That is no boy.
"Cloud?"
"Huh-- I--"
He glanced up, to find Tifa staring at him in concern, one hand resting on the page of the report that he had been--
--no, the page was blank, except for the words labeling that the record had been destroyed. There had been no transcript. There had been nothing but... words whispering in his head.
A memory. I remember-- no, Zack remembers. What happened then? Did he fail?
He couldn’t remember any more. The chain of thought had been broken, and try as he might, he couldn’t summon Zack’s memories on command. He turned the page again, finding a hospitalization record instead, listing one Rufus Shinra as critically injured.
His sword prescribing a glittering arc against the star-festooned sky...
The chair smashed to the ground as he stood, eyes unseeing and mind a million miles away.
Dream or memory, he didn’t know any more. Saw, in slow motion, the blade slicing through the open V of Rufus’ collared shirt (black, of course, to match the white jacket) -- but Rufus never wore collared shirts -- saw the man -- boy -- spin away, heard voices raised in anger as the Shinra heir fell to the ground, choking on blood and reaching for his materia and a wide eyed stare of utter betrayal....
What happened? How? Why? Zack wouldn’t do something like that. Zack wouldn’t... he couldn’t have. Rufus obviously got away. Zack never got... Zack wouldn’t...
His hand was shaking as he grabbed his PHS, fingers streaking across the buttons. There was a ring tone: once, twice...
"This is Tseng."
"The file. I... what happened?"
"Everything that we know is contained in that folder," Tseng said flatly, and Cloud could hear, in the background, someone’s voice raised in a query. "Anything else is contained in your memory."
"And Rufus’."
"Yes."
"Where is he? I need to talk to him. Now."
A pause. "I will convey your intention to met--" another pause, and the muted sounds of conversation in the background. "Shinra HQ in Midgar. Call when you arrive."
"What are you doing there?"
"At your earliest convenience, Strife." The line went dead.
--
The wind ruffled his hair as he stepped out of the helicopter, wary of the unsteady footing. Meteor had wrecked the Shinra Tower, Sephiroth had come round to finish the job. Eyewitnesses said that the General had cleaved the tower in two, although Rufus found that a tad incredible. Weakened it, more likely, causing a pre-existing fault to tear apart.
Either way, the entire place was a mess now. The Turks, sans Elena, were waiting, Reno and Rude a distance away and on the lookout, Tseng hovering anxiously beside him to assist as necessary. Rufus waved him away and started across the path they had cleared, craning his head to look up.
It was his first time back. He’d lived in the shadow of his ruined city for years now, looking out at it from his window in Healin, and later, from their new base of operations in Edge. He thought that he had gotten over its destruction... but it was with a pang in his heart that he paused before the great doors that once led into the lobby. It was with a pang that he recalled its days of glory, with people bustling in and out at all hours, lights shining and the glow of the reactors arrayed like sentinels on the fringes of the city.
Once, I ruled the world.
Once, this was home.
Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the ruins, taking a deep breath to push the ghosts of yesteryear away. Oh how the mighty have fallen, so many people said, mockingly, but perhaps they failed to recognize that it was also for the best. Occasionally, the mighty had to be torn down to be rebuilt again, to emerge stronger than ever before.
Or so he hoped. And if fortune still smiled on them, the information that he was about to retrieve would be instrumental in making that happen.
Even if I do not live to see it through.
He paused, frowning at the stray thought that brushed across the surface of his mind. He was given to morbidity, on occasion, but he had been convinced that he had left that behind a long time ago...
It will be a long road, he realized, following Tseng’s lead through the sections of the building that still remained intact. My father turned the Company from a mere weapons producer, one of many, into the leading force of the world. But that was a different time, with different concerns, and no shadow of the past hanging over us. And no silver bullets like we once thought mako to be.
Tseng’s PHS shrilled and Rufus came to a halt as the Turk pulled out his phone. "Everything we know is contained in that folder."
Rufus frowned. "What folder?"
Tseng gave him an apologetic nod, speaking rapidly to the other party. Glanced over to him as he mentioned something about a meeting.
"Who is it?" Rufus queried.
Strife, Tseng mouthed back.
"I’ll see him."
Are you certain? Tseng’s raised eyebrow conveyed.
"Absolutely."
"Shinra HQ in Midgar. Call when you arrive," Tseng relayed. "At your earliest convenience, Strife."
"Is there something you neglected to tell me?" Rufus asked, as the Turk snapped his PHS shut.
"I passed on some information. Relating to your first trip to the Icicle area."
He didn’t need a mirror to tell what his expression was. He had seen it reflected too often in the wide-eyed, fearful stares of employees and opponents alike. Ice would have been warmer, he sometimes heard them whisper after. And Death kinder.
Tseng met his gaze full on, and did not apologize.
"I did not give you leave to give away classified information without my approval," he said softly.
"You authorized us to act in your best interests."
"I told you to stop calling Cloud."
"I simply persuaded him to come to you of his own volition." Black eyes regarded him steadily, with nothing but warmth in their depths. "You need him. You said as much."
"You throw a spanner into the works."
"I created an opportunity. I trust that the President will be able to grasp hold of it and turn it to his advantage."
Rufus’ fingers traced the line of the scar at his throat. "The President will have to."
To be continued.
A/N: Annnnnnnnd thank you for all the kind comments regarding the last installment! Yes, indeed, I’m trying to do something with Reeve, but that’ll emerge later. In the meantime, may this go out and cheer some people who’ve been waiting so patiently for the update!