Beloved, Chapter 20
Cloud immediately tried to sidestep, but Genesis’s rapier glowed red-hot, a stream of embers blasting from it like a Blade Beam. Even from half a body length away the heat stung worse than a naked flame.
He backed up a step, just long enough to focus his attention on the materia in his pocket, before feinting right and dashing left again. The rapier flared once more.
And met a blast of water.
There was a shriek of contracting metal and a cloud of hissing steam that burned nearly as intensely as the fire itself. Before Cloud could dart by him, Genesis whirled, tossing the flame he carried in his other hand at his feet.
It exploded into a raging fireball that scorched the ground black. Cloud had no choice but to retreat once more.
“You’re activating the materia without even holding it, now,” Genesis remarked. “You do learn fast.” With a twirl of his fingers, both the rapier and the fireball reignited near-instantly. “However, in this, I am the best.”
‘Are you crazy?’ rested on the tip of his tongue, but Cloud couldn’t force those particular words past his lips, not when he’d faced them so often himself. Not when there was such a good chance of them being true.
Instead, he demanded, “Why?”
Sephiroth chuckled - a low, threatening sound that made the hair on the back of his neck rise. “Didn’t you know, Cloud? I was friends with Genesis long before he met you.” He gestured to himself, a lazy, elegant movement encompassing his form. “And he couldn’t possibly let any more harm befall this vessel, after all.”
“Don’t presume to speak for me,” Genesis snapped.
Genesis didn’t deny it, though.
Cloud took a long measured breath. So that’s how it was.
It shouldn’t have surprised him. Genesis had interceded before on Weiss’s behalf, hadn’t he? Back when Cloud had first spotted him, near the base of ShinRa headquarters.
But that didn’t matter now. None of it mattered. All that mattered was fixing things. Sending the dead back to the Lifestream, to his memories, where they belonged.
Cloud paced warily in front of them, circling, trying to find the most advantageous position. Genesis turned with him, the glow from his rapier pulsing like a heartbeat, the faint hum of magic deafening in the sudden silence. Sephiroth, for his part, seemed content to wait and observe this new development with quiet amusement, Masamune at the ready.
Either of them alone he could take on and win. But both of them at once?
He flexed his fingers around First Tsurugi’s hilt, and ran a quick mental check of the materia he’d slipped into his pockets that morning.
There was only one choice. If he was outnumbered, then the smart thing to do was to even the odds.
Cloud threw himself backwards at top speed.
Genesis and Sephiroth were slow to react, half-shifting to counter, only to be caught off-guard by his sudden retreat.
Until Cloud reached into his pocket and withdrew a ruby-coloured materia.
“A Summon!” Genesis swore. He swept his arm out, throwing a raging torrent of fire after him.
It was too late. It wouldn’t reach in time. Any materia he couldn’t cast with fast enough didn’t get brought to the fight.
He poured energy into the spell, enough that his vision blurred for a moment, and then flung the light into the sky.
The air shook with thunder as the portal opened above him. Lightning crackled around the edges, bathing their surroundings in a pearlescent glow. Cloud hit the ground and rolled, the pursuing flames passing overhead in a wave of blistering heat.
From the portal, streams of energy solidified, darkening into metallic black armour, followed by vast, midnight-purple wings. Long neck, vicious claws, eyes glowing with ethereal power. The king of dragons.
Neo Bahamut.
The air shook with Bahamut’s roar as he spat a bullet of energy at the ground. Genesis and Sephiroth scattered, but Cloud was already on his feet, dashing towards his foe. Let his summon keep Genesis busy, while he took out Sephiroth.
Masamune met his strike, but Cloud slid and ducked and struck again, angling for a weak spot, any gap in Sephiroth’s defences. Another blast of flame from Genesis burst at his back but he swatted it aside with a wall of water. Bahamut roared again and the air flashed with more flares. Out the corner of his eye he could see Genesis take wing, making himself a more difficult target, lobbing frantic fireballs at the summon gnashing at his heels.
The whisper of metal through air dragged his attention forward. Pain ripped along his arm, Cloud a second too slow in his distraction to entirely twist out of Masamune’s path. Blood ran in thin rivers along his elbow, scattering crimson droplets in the air.
“You can’t afford to split your attention, Cloud.” Sephiroth said his name like it was a spell, a command to freeze him in place. It infuriated him how very nearly it seemed to work.
He responded by sweeping his leg out, attempting to steal Sephiroth’s feet from under him. His opponent merely evaded, side-stepping to attack his flank. Cloud blocked, off-balance and compensating with raw strength. His thumb hit the sword release, the force of the swords breaking apart giving him a moment’s edge. He snatched the lightest piece and stabbed it at Sephiroth’s leg.
It sliced the boot, but didn’t break skin. Sephiroth whirled away, Masamune flashing, the blade’s song lost under the background cacophony of Bahamut’s roars and exploding fireballs.
A sudden change in air pressure had Cloud check his next attack, turning to gauge the next threat. Neo Bahamut hovered in the air, hide now scored with burns but still raining crackling white salvos of energy across the battlefield. His gaze skated across the sky, but there was no sign of that distinctive black wing anywhere.
Where was Genesis?
As though in answer, magic flared - a tingling sensation in the air that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. A spell. A big one.
That was the only warning before a bolt of red light shot out and struck the road. A ring of fire spread from it, scorching the ground black in its wake. The asphalt turned molten, and then bursting from the magma came a titan, horns and flames and fiery mane, curved black claws and leathery hide.
Ifrit?
Genesis stood across the burning void, hand raised and coat flapping from the turbulent waves of heat. “You are not the only one capable of commanding Summon materia, Cloud Strife!”
Ifrit bellowed, crouched, and launched himself into the sky, a cannonball of flesh and claws and flame. The air filled with roars as the summon sank his claws into Bahamut’s underbelly, and Bahamut in turn latched his teeth onto Ifrit’s shoulder.
Cloud reached for his Water materia again - one good blast with that would put Ifrit out of commission and free up his summon once more - but had to jerk back around to parry another slash of Masamune. The shock of the impact travelled up his arm, making his shoulder ache.
He swept out his leg in a kick, forcing Sephiroth back long enough to rejoin the blades. He slammed the full sword against the ground, unleashing a devastating Blade Beam. Sephiroth dodged, only for First Tsurugi to score a second slash mere moments later on his left side. The wound was shallow, seeping blood only for seconds before advanced healing knitted the skin closed.
Then suddenly Genesis was there between them, free to join the fight with Bahamut’s attention occupied. He broke Cloud’s momentum and forced his next attack off course. Cloud clenched his jaw in frustration, throwing his full weight behind his next strike, doing all he could to push Genesis off-balance long enough to get a clean shot at Sephiroth. But even when he gained a window, Masamune was there, parrying his every attempt, and by the time he’d gained the upper hand again Genesis had regained his feet, throwing fireballs at his back.
The ground shook as the summons crashed back to earth, snarling. Bahamut had sheer size and strength on his side, but Ifrit had sunk his blazing claws into the base of the dragon’s long neck, grimly clinging on just out of reach of the summon’s deadly jaws. The pair of monoliths rolled across the landscape, crushing the few surviving structures under them as they grappled. Waves of dust and grit and smoke washed over them, stinging their eyes.
Cloud didn’t let himself blink - he couldn’t afford it, not with both Genesis and Sephiroth in the fray. It was pure chaos, a whirlwind of steel and leather and black feathers with a backdrop of fire and destruction.
Cloud split his sword, one driving at Sephiroth, the other slashing at his flank to intercept Genesis. He spun on his heel, a sword guarding his back, breaking the second blade again to throw it at Ifrit. The bellow of pain was the only confirmation that his strike struck true, as he’d already moved to deflect Sephiroth’s next attack and duck another volley of flames.
In the background, Bahamut’s cry thundered, the dragon finally freed of Ifrit’s grasp. His wings were shredded and armour charred with deep grooves from Ifrit’s claws. Cloud could sense the magic fading, Bahamut gathering the last of it in his gullet.
Then with one mighty blast, he finally blew the other summon away. Ifrit vanished in the blinding light of a point-blank Tera Flare.
Victorious at last, but Cloud cursed under his breath. The energy he’d poured into the summoning had been spent, and Bahamut dispersed into motes of light not a moment later. The materia felt dead in his pocket - even if he had the strength to spare, he wouldn’t be able to summon Neo Bahamut again for some time.
Which meant he was back to the original problem - two against one, short a piece of his sword, and the first signs of exhaustion and strain creeping their way in.
He dragged his full attention back to the swordfight, just in time to block another sweep from Masamune. The clashing metal sounded dull and hollow after the booming cacophony of the summons’ battle. Cloud spun and parried, throwing increasingly weak blankets of water to douse Genesis’s fire magic, even as he dove for every window, real or fake, in Sephiroth’s defence. His arms burned from the strain, blood sliding under his gloves. His grip tightened to compensate, making each block and parry all the more stiff and jarring. He moved into a Cross Slash, operating on muscle memory and instinct alone. Sephiroth dodged the first strike, barely parried the second, but Genesis appeared between them once more to catch the third.
Then Sephiroth smirked, and suddenly brought Masamune down on Genesis’s back.
Time seemed to slow. Adrenaline flooded his system, the fatigue suddenly only a memory. With a speed he didn’t think his muscles had left, Cloud shoved Genesis aside, sending him stumbling out of range. Masamune crashed against First Tsurugi hard enough to shatter the pavement beneath his feet.
“Hmph.” Sephiroth leaned against the block. “I don’t think you’re committed enough to fighting me, Cloud. He’s in the way.”
“He’s helping you,” Cloud spat back venomously, voice strained with the effort of holding Masamune back.
“Isn’t this touching?” Sephiroth purred. “You defend him even though he’s a traitor.”
“I’m not letting you kill anyone else.” His heart still thudded in his chest, too fast and too loud and his breath felt like it was coming too short. An instant slower, and they would have been fighting over a corpse.
Genesis rallied, visibly rattled by the near miss but already pulling himself together. “I shouldn’t be surprised you lack even the strategy to keep yourself alive, Sephiroth. Still fighting without honour. You’re a disgrace to the name of SOLDIER.”
Sephiroth smirked. “Doesn’t that sound familiar?” He raised his sword again and-
Stumbled.
His form seemed to waver for an instant, a glimpse of Weiss fading through. Before Cloud could strike, though, he leapt out of reach, black wing spreading wide as it carried him safely away.
Sephiroth looked, oddly enough, irritated. “As amusing as this is, I’m afraid I don’t have any more time to play with failures today.” He raised his hand, and suddenly the static that had been nothing but a background noise throughout the fight rose, the bond constricting around his neck like an invisible hand. Cloud grit his teeth against it, dropping to a knee as his muscles failed to obey him. “I’ll be waiting, Cloud.”
Then he was gone as quickly as he’d come, disappearing into the gloomy sky.
Cloud barely swallowed his gasp as the bond receded like a snapping rubber band. He slammed his fist against the ground in frustration, pavement cracking from the impact. Sephiroth had been right there, and he’d been frozen in place, helpless. Again.
That was twice now. It wasn’t like Sephiroth to run away, to avoid fighting Cloud, regardless of how many others were present. Even after so many defeats, he was so self-assured, so confident in his abilities. What was he doing? What was he planning?
Whatever it was, Cloud couldn’t let him get away with it.
He pushed himself back to his feet, ready to follow, but Genesis raised his rapier in warning. “Don’t.”
“I’m not letting him get away,” Cloud said. His grip tightened around First Tsurugi, leather gloves creaking from the pressure. “Don’t interfere.” It was offered as a warning, not as a request. Cloud would grant that much, given everything he’d thought they’d shared.
If Genesis still wanted to fight after that, then...
Genesis huffed, and finally let the spell thrumming through his rapier die. “Dear Goddess, would you simply stop and listen for a moment? For once I have no desire to fight you, Cloud Strife. But have you perhaps forgotten that there is an innocent party involved in this?”
Weiss? “Weiss is no more innocent than Sephiroth. He’s just as dangerous.” The tragedies brought about by DeepGround were half the cause of this whole mess.
“Weiss has been catatonic since the Omega incident,” Genesis snapped. “He’s as much a drooling fool as you were after you and Zack Fair escaped from Hojo.”
Cloud stared, a cold sensation creeping over him like Shiva’s fingers on his skin at the implication. Catatonic? He couldn’t be implying… “Explain.”
“After I awoke, I discovered his body nearby. I took it upon myself to take care of him. There has been little change for months.” Genesis paused, gaze turning inward. “Yet one day, without warning, when I went to provide him with food and water he was gone.”
“You were taking care of him?” Cloud repeated incredulously. “Weiss? The leader of DeepGround?”
“He was helpless,” Genesis spat. “I am not so lacking in honour that I would leave a child to die a slow death, not when the man is all but a brother.”
That word crawled across his skin like something unpleasantly slimy, memories of Kadaj’s taunts whispering in his ears.
He took a deep breath, reminding himself to focus. The how first - he could worry about the why after. “When was this?”
Genesis waved a dismissive hand. “Not long after we first met. Naturally, I searched for him. But you know as well as I do how difficult that is in the rubble of Midgar. When I finally found him...” He gave a mocking bow. “You know what happened."
"And nothing since?" Cloud asked, not even bothering to hide the doubt in his voice.
Genesis shook his head. “My Friend, your dream
Heralds the return of the Goddess
Restless wandering without respite
History’s search has no conclusion.”
It was an entirely inappropriate time to be quoting poetry. Cloud’s thoughts were far too jumbled to notice, though. He was irritated. Confused. It was too much information to parse at once, when his instincts were screaming at him that he didn’t have time to worry about it, that he needed to be pursuing, to be fighting. And that he shouldn’t believe anything Genesis told him, not after he’d hidden this knowledge for so long.
But now that he was thinking, instead of simply reacting, more and more questions kept presenting themselves.
“I don’t understand,” he murmured to himself. “Even with the other half of Jenova’s neck… Weiss wasn’t a clone, was he?” He wished he could get in touch with Vincent. Vincent knew the most about the DeepGround incident. But he didn’t have his phone anymore, and even if he did, Vincent had gone into hiding with Shelke.
This time, he was truly on his own.
“Perhaps a clone was never necessary,” Genesis remarked.
Startled, Cloud dragged his attention back to the former SOLDIER. “What?”
“There are two things that determine every SOLDIER’s makeup - mako, and Jenova cells.” Genesis was moving into lecture mode, pacing back and forth as he talked. “Processed mako on its own causes mutations. You’ll have seen the same effects on monsters living near Reactors. There are a variety of successful processes, but the part you are concerned with are the Jenova cells.”
He paused, as though waiting for a response - or maybe just for theatrical effect. “…There are two types of these, as well. Most SOLDIERs receive an injection of inert Jenova cells. This is what I received, as did Zack Fair prior to his capture by Hojo. The other kind are S-cells.” His lip curled on the words, as though they were dirty. “They are a special type of modified Jenova cells - essentially, the next generation of Jenova cells. That is what you and Sephiroth possess.”
Cloud knew that already. “So you’re saying that he doesn’t even need clones? He just needs someone already enhanced with Jenova cells?” A pit opened in his stomach. Would the nightmare never end? Was he going to have go through this every two years for the rest of his life?
Genesis frowned, staring into the distance where Sephiroth had retreated. “Not precisely. His hold on Weiss is evidently weak," he noted. "He possesses Jenova cells, like all SOLDIERs - like myself, too - but the connection is a thin one. If I am correct - and I am - Sephiroth can only manifest because Weiss lacks any will with which to fight him." He sniffed. “Pathetic, really.”
Cloud’s thoughts flashed to Kadaj’s gang, when they’d kidnapped the children suffering from Geostigma.
Only children, though. Those who were young. Unsure. Malleable.
And then there was Weiss. According to Genesis, Weiss had been reduced to a blank slate.
Just like Cloud had been, once upon a time.
A perfect puppet.
The edges of First Tsurugi’s hilt dug painfully into his palm.
"It doesn't appear he has the strength to take control for long periods, either, if his pattern thus far is anything to go by,” Genesis mused.
It was a good point. Sephiroth had retreated. Twice, now, and his reaction times had been sluggish by his usual standards. Cloud had assumed he was planning something… but if Sephiroth couldn’t manifest for long periods, and needed to save strength to try… that might explain a lot.
Each time he’d retreated, just beforehand, the façade had faded for a moment. It might have accounted for why the bond was so frustratingly intermittent and vague, too. And why else would Sephiroth have laid in wait, hiding, for so long?
A long, awkward silence stretched between them.
"We should find cover,” Genesis eventually said, frowning at the destruction wreaked by their battle. Small fires still flickered from Ifrit's summoning, and smoke curled from the craters left by Bahamut's flares.
It was late, and dark enough out that the odds of the Turks or WRO still having search patrols nearby were slim. But if any of them were within the city walls, or had any sort of vantage point, that battle would have been impossible to miss. People would be coming to investigate.
“The theatre would be best,” he continued, and eyed the blood coating Cloud’s arm. “Are you going to use a Cure on that?”
Cloud ignored it - the wound had been worse than he first thought, given that it was still sluggishly bleeding even now, but he could barely feel it. “You can go. I still need to stop Sephiroth.”
“In your state?” Genesis scoffed. “You’re bleeding and exhausted. Even I would be tired after summoning that creature, not to mention your casual abuse of Water materia you haven’t even fully mastered.”
Cloud kept his attention carefully focused on the distance. “It didn’t help that I had to fight two people instead of one.”
The pointed silence following that statement was so sharp it could have drawn blood.
“Even if the morrow should not forgive me
I shall carry no regrets.” Genesis murmured into the wind. The faint whine of helicopter rotors began to rise in the distance - still far enough away not to be a concern, but they would have to move soon.
Cloud went to collect the stray piece of his sword he’d thrown at Ifrit. The parts rejoined with a heavier clunk than normal - First Tsurugi would need a lot of maintenance after a battle like that. “It doesn’t matter. If your theory’s right, Sephiroth will be weak right now. This is the best time to strike.”
Genesis’s eyes narrowed. “In case you missed my point before, let me make this perfectly clear, Cloud Strife. Our enemy is Sephiroth, not Weiss.”
And that right there was the thought Cloud didn’t want to consider, had been stubbornly ignoring as though hoping he could wish it out of existence.
If Weiss really were catatonic, if he were being controlled…
How different was that to Cloud handing over the Black Materia? And even the atrocities committed by the Tsviets… how different was that to what Genesis had done in the past? Or the Turks? And for that matter, how much of even that could they attribute to Weiss? How much was Omega and Hojo?
And all of that led to another unsettling question.
…Was Genesis to Weiss what Zack had been to Cloud?
His stomach lurched unpleasantly at the thought.
Cloud didn't want to consider the implications of that right then.
He was Zack's living legacy, and Zack had fought for him until the bitter end. It would have been so much easier for Zack to kill him or abandon him, to shed the risk and the burden. He likely would have survived if he had.
The situation with Weiss was not the same, but the parallels were too many to ignore.
This was going to become complicated.
Next chapter