Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

«Skyé!» a voice hollers as bright blue eyes laced with swirling green snap open. A soft sigh escapes pale lips as a head of messy blond spikes falls to rest on soft black sand. He glares at the black furred wolf next to him, crimson eyes staring at him with a distinct lack of amusement as she stares at the rest of his body submerged in a massive pool of faintly glowing green crystalline mako.

«Tifa,» he greets. «Go home.»

«No!» The wolf growls as suddenly the wolf’s shape morphs into a dark long-haired woman with burning crimson eyes and skin as pale as snow. 

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself Skyé,” she hisses vehemently, “It’s been what? One thousand years since you last left Mount Nibel?”

“I guess,” the blond shrugs, “I haven’t bothered to keep track.”

“Cloud Strife—you are getting up off of that depressed ass of yours and go do something productive than wiping out the mountain’s native monster population,” Tifa snarls, her canines glinting off of the snow’s glare.

“I went to your house—you haven’t eaten anything in centuries!”

“Why do you care?” Cloud scoffs, “Wasn’t your precious father the one who murdered my Ma in the first place?”

“She was an alchemist!” Tifa shouts.

Cloud lifts her up by the collar of her cloak in an instant, “Claudia Strife saved all of your sorry asses from starvation out of good will and faith—all that got her was an unmarked grave and an equally pitiful death.”

“She was human ,” Tifa hisses, “Alchemists bring nothing but calamity.”

“Oh, did she? Sorry, who exactly was saved by her good will on that fateful day over a millenia ago?” Cloud tilts his head, his face expressionless. “Despite being told that other species would sooner eat her alive, rape her, and desecrate her corpse my Ma was still kind to you all and what did that get her? Unwarranted prejudice and betrayal.”

“Why didn’t you kill me then? Am I not human enough for that kind of regard?” Cloud scoffs as he drops the woman to the ground.

“You’re a homunculus,” Tifa deadpans, “You aren’t human at all.”

“Biologically I am identical to humans on every level, my Ma raised me as she would a human,” Cloud states, “The only difference between me and humans is that I am an artificial construct that can sustain itself off of mana indefinitely.”

“In all the ways that matter—I am human,” Cloud shrugs, his eyes bitter, “So answer me this Tifa Lockhart—If you lot claim to despise humans to the extent that you demonstrated when you left my Ma to die, then why am I still living?”

“Is it because I’m a convenience?” he laughs as Tifa flinches. “Of course it’s that—once my Ma outlived her usefulness—to the wolves of Nibelheim she was nothing more than prey.”

“It was wrong!” Tifa shouts, “I know it was wrong, but…I couldn’t…it was the will of the pack.”

“That’s why you shouldn’t tie yourself to us any longer! Your mom wanted you to be happy, right?”

I̴͉͝f̴̟͠ ̶̠͂n̴̩̈́õ̷̜t̶̮́h̸̖̓i̴̹͗ṉ̶̅g̶͔͛ ̸̥̋e̸̬̔l̴͙̔s̶̫͂e̶̬̾,̵͔̇ ̷̧͘r̵̭̿e̷̘͝m̷̹͝e̸̜̔m̷̜̄b̴͓̈e̷͕̕r̶̝̐ ̶͓̏t̷̻͂h̴̫̚ḭ̸̌s̸̯̑ ̸̜̓m̸̮͗y̸̨̓ ̶̳̌S̸̻̽t̵̖́ō̵̟r̶͕͆m̶̲̈́c̴͇̅l̴͝ͅơ̶̳ủ̵̦d̶̔ͅ—̶͚̅Í̵͇ ̴͚͒ṕ̵͉r̸̾͜å̷͜y̶̬̓ ̸͆ͅt̵̤̒ḫ̵̑a̸̪̎t̷͙̆ ̸̕ͅy̸̭͆o̷̗̒ù̶͖ ̸̹̽w̵̙̕ḯ̸̗l̵̗̀l̴͖͐ ̸̼͗ḷ̸͆i̴̯͂v̴̲̓e̵̜̊ ̴̹̋i̴̹̇n̵̖͠ ̷̝̌ḩ̸̎a̶̺̒p̶̦͋p̸̩͛ǐ̸͕n̸̡̉e̶̮͠ŝ̶̤s̶̮̏,̵̤̎ ̷̣͂a̶̩̓l̸̫͘w̷̠̿ả̵̱y̵͓͛s̵͖͂.̷̜̔

“Shut up,” Cloud hisses. “What would you know?”

“The outside world has changed Cloud. Humans are no longer what the danger they were before, but…nothing has changed for the better,” Tifa shakes her head as she reaches for his left wrist and runs a finger along the black letters written on it. “And you have them, yet you have never had the dreams, have you?”

“Don’t you want to find them? Your soulmates?”

Cloud flinches back his eyes wide as his shoulders slump, “I may as well be human to other species, and to humans…I’m nothing more than dirt.”

“It’s been a millennia since Claudia Strife passed,” Tifa shakes her head, “Go out into the world—see it for yourself before making that kind of conclusion and deciding that this—”

She gestures to the desolate wintry expanse of snow and ice surrounding them, “All this desolate isolation would be your happiness.”

“It isn’t. Your body is slowly degrading, you’re miserable. I haven’t seen you in centuries only for you to lash out at me in anger and bitterness.” Tifa lists on her fingers.

“I haven’t seen you smile since you were a child barely out of the flask, much less you laughing happily—and no, sarcastic laughter doesn’t count either.”

Cloud sighs as they sit in silence, the weight between them only increasing before Cloud hesitantly opens his mouth.

“If…If I wanted to…would you come with me, Teef?” he mutters quietly, “Where would we even go?”

“Hah!” Tifa laughs, “Just leave it to me, I even have an entire itinerary planned out! The end destination is the biggest city on the eastern continent—Midgar, the city of life and dreams!”

“...never heard of it,” Cloud grumbles.

“Well of course not, old man,” Tifa jokes, “you haven’t talked to anyone besides me and your Ma since you were born.”

“...we need to come up with a viable backstory for you though…the creation of homunculi is still illegal everywhere,” Tifa ponders, “You up for pretending to be human again?”

“That means you’ll actually need to eat and use the bathroom again. You also can’t sleep most of the time,” Tifa points out.

“Why not,” Cloud pouts, “Not like they’d give a shit.”

“...Do you want people knowing that you’re a homunculus?”

“...no.”

“Therein lies your answer.”

“Fine,” Cloud huffs, “What’s our story? I’m your adoptive brother that you picked up cuz I was a runaway and then you got attached?”

“That works since you’re my sworn brother, but it doesn’t work for explaining away that you’re human,” Tifa sighs, “Though I could say that I met you on the road and we hit it off despite the difference in our races.”

“That works,” Cloud shrugs.

“You’ll still have to bear the brunt of the discrimination though,” she warns.

“Like I’m not used to that,” Cloud states drily.

“...point taken.”

“So…how are we leaving?” Cloud asks.

“Eh, just pack whatever you need, say goodbye to your Ma and then we’ll head over to Corel to grab you new gear and a PHS,” Tifa nods to herself. 

“I’ll set up a calendar so you know when to plan out your annual visits to her grave,” Tifa offers, Cloud’s eyes softening as he rests his head against her shoulder.

“Thanks Teef. And sorry about snapping at you.”

“It’s fine, Cloud—after all, I’m all you have left, don’t I? And my father is a sexist piece of shit.”

“Ah,” Cloud deadpans, “So there was an ulterior motive.”

“You know me too well.”

The both burst out laughing into a fit of giggles.

“Alright, I'll go pack and…say bye to Ma.”

—

“Hey Ma,” Cloud sighs as he rests his head on the roughly carved quartz headstone. “So, Teef offered to drag me to the outside world for the first time in a millennia—I get to play human again. Hopefully I’m better at it this time.”

“...Do you think that I—never mind, soulmates or not, I don’t need anyone like that in my life in order to live.”

“Teef is enough. She cares, not as much as you did, but then again her tunnel vision and ambition take priority above all else for her.”

“...She’d kick me to the curb in a heartbeat if I prove to be more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Anyway, I won’t be able to visit until next year,” Cloud chokes out, “You’ll still be here, won't you, Ma?”

A warm breeze curls around him, the wind echoing of laughter as a smile settles on his face. 

“I’m off Ma. Wish me luck.”

He stands, basking as the wind rushes through the field of small sapphire forget-me-not flowers. 

Cloud turns to face Tifa, a small smile on his face from where she sits on her haunches in wolf form.

“Ready,” he states.

Huffing, Tifa lowers her body to the ground, letting Cloud climb on her back. “Hold on tight,” she growls softly before she stands, starting off with a light jog before a full run.

—

Corel, historically, used to be populated by humans before the Cetran Council chose to banish them to the far west, for the last millennia it has been populated by dwarves which has led to it flourishing with people from all over the continent traveling to purchase their wares.

Due to the rich mana saturating the ore, courtesy of the heavy mako presence, the metals and precious stones mined in Corel have high compatibility with magic. Which is what makes the products of dwarven craftsmanship with such rare materials, invaluable.

Tifa lets Cloud down as she pauses outside of a two-story building with a rather massive wooden sign reading, “Ifrit’s Inferno” in dwarvish and western common.

Cloud feels the gazes of people prickling his neck, making him tug the hood of his fur cloak down around his head to hide his ears.

Tifa shifts back into her more human-like form as she grasps Cloud’s wrist, tugging him behind her as she kicks open the front door of the establishment. “I’m back, Barret! Have fun managing these sorry bastards without me?” she shouts as the person behind the bar, a dark skinned dwarf with a physique carved from rock and taller than your average human male draws up his sunglasses to his forehead as he squints.

“Well well, what took you so long to get back Tifa?” the dwarf bellows, “Last you said you’d be off gathering some extra helping hands before we take our business to Midgar.”

“I gathered up three people willing to help us set up, they’re mixed-bloods though, that's fine with you?” Barret asks as he eyes Cloud who was hiding behind Tifa.

“Who’s the kid?”

“This is my oath-brother, Skyé, though most who don’t speak Old Nibel refer to him as Cloud Strife,” Tifa explains as Barret empties the bar. 

“Why the hood?” he asks gruffly, “I swear if you’re bringing on a criminal—”

Cloud steps in front of Tifa, pulling off his hood in a single motion as he looks the massive dwarf in the eye and glares. “I’m wearing a hood because I didn’t want to cause an uproar,” he deadpans. “If you can’t tell, I’m a full blooded human,” he states blandly.

“You…what. Tifa?” Barret looks between the wolf-shifter and Cloud before quickly taking them to the back of the bar. 

“You brought a human?!” he exclaims, “Are you crazy?”

“Hear me out Barret,” she states, “Cloud’s stronger than he looks. And well, he’s not very well liked where we come from.”

“No shit.” “That’s an understatement.”

The pair glance at each other, blinking before both of them scowl and refuse to meet each other’s eyes.

“Look, we’ve been recruiting mixed and half-bloods who managed to avoid capture so far, as far as I know—we haven’t seen a single full blooded human outside of slave markets and Wutai for centuries,” Tifa hisses, “And besides that—Cloud’s older than he looks and was given a gift by one of the Old Gods.”

“My mother was the last pure blooded Aesir of her specific bloodline,” Cloud sighs as he realizes where Tifa’s narrative was going. “She was born before the verdict of the Cetran Council—but even in that case their verdicts do not pertain to us as we only obey the decree of Odin. The King of the Aesir hasn’t seen fit to bother with those of us from Loki’s bloodline for eons.”

“I am human, but…I am…of an unusual sort.”

“Now who exactly is being modest?” Tifa deadpans, “This guy is the most freakishly stubborn person you will ever meet. Cloud soaks himself in pure natural mako pools for fun.”

Tifa smirks as she watches the dwarf pale.

“I…Fine…we’ll have him on a trial run, but for now, that guy doesn’t take that hood off anywhere other than the back room, got it?” Barret states.

“Got it. While Cloudy can handle a couple of Tsivets coming after him…it would draw too much attention even though it’d be fun to watch him beat those Shinra bastards into the ground,” Tifa sighs.

“You have that much faith in ‘im?” Barret asks drily.

Tifa scoffs, “You’d get it too if you’d ever seen this guy fight. Nothing bar, maybe a SOLDIER Second or First would be enough to make him bother to try.”

“...That’s high praise coming from you of all people Miss Divine Wolf,” he deadpans.

Tifa grins, “Of course, Cloud’s my one and only brother after all! Gotta have his back since no one else besides himself will.”

“In that case, go teach the newbie the ropes of bartending. Can’t have him on guard duty since that’s a little too risky, I’ll introduce you and him to the others later once they get here. After that…”

Barret looks Cloud up and down before sighing, “You need some new gear, kid. That antiquated steel won’t last you long in a fight against Shinra’s goons.”

“Don’t worry Barret,” Tifa grins as Cloud feels a shiver crawl up his spine. “I got us a whole shopping list.”

“As for official introductions, I’m Barret Wallace, the current leader of a motley crew of rebels who have…opinions about the current structure of our world under the thumb of Shinra and the Cetran Council,” the dwarf holds out a hand.

“Skyé veor Ofrithor,” Cloud states as he clasps the bigger man’s hand and shakes it, “Though in both Western and Eastern Common that’s Cloud Strife.”

“Nice to have ya on board.” The dwarf chuckles as he smacks Cloud on the back. “Your grip is pretty strong even for a human.”

Cloud shares a look with Tifa before he lets out a blank, “You’re amicable enough, for a dwarf.”

Pulling his hood back up, Cloud walks towards the door, “I’ll be outside when you’re done Teef.”

“...Did I do something wrong?” Barret questions as Tifa sighs.

“Cloud’s…a little bit touchy when people mention his race. It’s not my place to say but…you’re lucky he likes you enough not to snap out at you immediately. For him at least, that means you made a decent first impression,” Tifa gestures to the door. “I’ll get him settled first and then I’ll show him the ropes. Is it fine if he meets Marlene?”

“...as long as he keeps the hood on,” Barret shrugs, “He seems like a good kid.”

“He is,” Tifa nods, “That’s why I wasn’t going to let Cloud rot in the backyard of a backwater town for the rest of his life.”

“Besides that, some time in the outside world for that recluse would do him some good.”

Exiting the bar, Tifa glances about, looking for Cloud, glancing up she sees a pair of boots hanging off of the roof. 

Shrugging, she swings herself up onto the roof where Cloud was laying down and gazing at the bright blue sky, unadulterated joy dancing in his eyes despite his blank expression.

“The sky here is different from Nibelheim isn’t it?” Tifa hums conversationally, “It’s the same color of the flowers on Miss Strife’s grave.”

“...yep,” Cloud sighs. “I don’t remember the last time I last saw a sky as clear as this.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is, isn't it?” Tifa laughs as she lays down next to Cloud, “Give it ten minutes and then we’ll go shopping for you. Your wardrobe is centuries out of date, if you go out like that people might think you’re participating in a reenactment play of Loveless or something.”

“Loveless?”

“It’s a poem that showed up a few centuries or so awhile back, it’s been all the rage for the last three hundred years,” Tifa shrugs. “Only half the time that Shinra’s been around but it’s more popular than their propaganda materials by far.”

“What’s propaganda?”

“...Fuck I forgot you’re an old man,” Tifa sighs, “You know what—I’ll get Jessie to teach you, that up-and-coming actress knows more about that stuff than I do. That faerie is all about show-biz.”

“She sounds like a pain in the ass,” Cloud deadpans.

“Rude,” Tifa scolds, “But…you’re also not wrong. Jessie can be…a bit much to handle sometimes…and you’re a bit too much of a recluse.”

“Hey, I can talk to people just fine,” Cloud huffs.

“...really. And you would say that willingly living alone on a desolate mountain filled with monsters for centuries without any interaction with sentients is healthy?” Tifa states blandly.

“...never said it wasn’t,” Cloud grumbles half-heartedly.

“Cloud, you’re reckless to the point that you might be mistaken for being suicidal,” Tifa deadpans.

“It’s not like I can die.”

“Self-harm isn’t much better of a choice though.”

“...Shut up,” Cloud huffs, “Like you’re one to talk.”

“Yes, I am—because I’m not an idiot,” she snickers at Cloud as he pouts.

“Should we go shopping now?” he grumbles as he jumps off the roof, Tifa laughing maniacally behind him.

“Sure, sure—just…lemme catch my breath,” she wheezes.

Chapter Text

“Hey, if it ain’t Miss Divine Wolf,” a dwarf laughs as Tifa drags Cloud to a place where he smelt burning embers and mana that felt like fire and earth.

“Heya Emil,” Tifa grins, “Congrats on the new contract the artisan’s guild got with Shin-ra, they agree to let Corel open a trade route with Rocket Town yet?”

“Nah,” the black-haired dwarf sighs, “You know how it goes with those Shin-ra bastards. But at least we have permission to cross the border for trade.”

“After a century of waging war with Wutai, they finally lifted the blockade on crossing to the Eastern continent. That war ain’t stopping any time soon. Though with the anti-human propaganda that the Cetran Council loves distributing, I guess they just can’t comprehend that oh, maybe, just maybe , humans didn’t like being their slaves for literal eons ?”

“Immortals, sometimes gotta question what makes them tick. Sure they let humans roam free before but they were always looming overhead with the threat of death should they stick a toe out of line. Can understand them pretty well since the immortal races treat all the mortal ones like shit.”

“How’s Barret doin’ lately? And…Marlene,” Emil asks quietly. “Heard some things about the Turks organizing another round of investigation for “Wutaiian sympathisers”, utter bullshit.”

“Haven’t heard anything from command lately, but according to them, General Sephiroth was recently called back from the front lines,” Tifa whispers. “Heard there’s been an uptick in demon activity.”

“No shit?” Emil’s flaming orange eyes go wide, “Fuck. Be careful then on the way to Midgar, yeah? Those dungeons appear out of thin air.”

“Of course. Now with that out of the way,” Tifa pushes Cloud forward gently, the smaller blond stumbling slightly. “This is my oathbrother, Cloud Strife. He doesn’t talk much since he’s lived alone for quite some time. So since I was leaving for Midgar I decided to take him with me.”

“You make me sound like some kind of pet, Teef,” Cloud grumbles. 

“Anyway,” Tifa ignores his protests as she takes off the collection of old swords on his back and laying them down on the dwarf’s workbench. 

One massive claymore

Two swords with dual edges

Two swords with a single edge

Two short-swords

After setting them down Tifa turns to Cloud and places her hands out, “Cough ‘em up.”

Cloud stills, hesitance written all over his face as Tifa nudges him. “It’s fine, gimme. I know you have a bunch on you. You need to replace them, they’re what, over five-hundred years old at this point at the bare minimum?

Sighing, Cloud takes out two daggers hidden in his boots, two strapped to his arms, and another set strapped to his outer thighs hidden by his cloak.

“The other one,” Tifa huffs.

“It’s my Ma’s kitchen knife Teef,” he protests.

“But you still use it to fight,” she deadpans. “Don’t worry, it’s not going to get tossed out.”

“...promise?”

“Yep.”

Sighing, Cloud unsheathes the knife sheathed at his waist with a bone-white handle and blue flowers tied around the hilt. The blade itself was cracked, chipped and tarnished, but it was still clearly loved despite its old age.

“Here.”

“So, do you still fix up old blades?” Tifa asks, a smile fixed on her face as she turns to Emil.

“Depends, why did that kid call a ceremonial dagger from the age of Camelot a kitchen knife?” Emil hums, “That dagger was only given to officials of the court who were knighted by the king.”

“Dunno,” Cloud shrugs, “Ma never told me much about her past. The only thing that I do know is that she survived the fall and went into hiding.”

“You, are you a human?” Emil asks as Cloud glances at Tifa warily. 

“Yes he is,” Tifa interjects, “Is that a problem?”

“No. Of course not, it’s just…Camelot fell well over two millennia ago.”

“Ma aged slowly, it was a by-product of one of her experiments gone wrong,” Cloud shrugs. “Killed her slowly too.”

“That’s the only thing I have left of her. When she died, not even her ashes remained.”

“Ah,” the dwarf hums sadly, “Alright, I’ll fix it right up. What about the other blades?”

“Nothing special to them, picked them up here and there. Killed a couple of demons with them every once in awhile,” Cloud states as Tifa chokes back a laugh.

“Once in awhile, huh,” she chuckles, “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one.”

“...They weren’t that strong though,” Cloud pouts. 

“Cloud, my dear, dear, asocial idiot,” Tifa lets her arm rest around Cloud’s shoulders, “You think Nibel dragons are only “moderately” strong and you kill A-rank monsters like mutated Nibel wolves as a pastime.”

“...not true,” Cloud pouts, “Nesting mother Nibel dragons are terrifying.”

Tifa’s face goes slack as she registers that statement before laughing, “Cloud, you—”

“You actually survived confronting a nesting mother dragon ?”

“You never told me about this!” she gasps, scandalized. 

“Yeah, yeah, it was just a once off thing like, I don’t know, in that last year before Ma…passed,” Cloud grumbles. “I was looking for yew bark. Found a nesting Nibel mother dragon instead.”

“That luck of yours is ridiculous sometimes, you know?”

“Gee, thanks,” Cloud deadpans.

“Anyway about those swords, they’re pretty much just junk,” Cloud shrugs, “They’re sturdy enough but it gets annoying to carry them around so much sometimes.”

“Yes, carrying around seven blades made of mithril will do that,” Emil states flatly.

“Though if you are looking for a sword, I have one in storage that was a former project of mine that I gave up on ever selling because most of the potential buyers claimed it was too much of a pain to use in battle.”

“Wait are you talking about—” Tifa’s eyes go wide as the dwarf nods.

“If your friend likes her then I’ll sell her to you for the current market cost of the ore I used. It was an alloy made up of a particularly mana-conductive titanium that mixed with mithril. I don’t keep up with the market nowadays but I assume you know how much that would cost, Miss Lockhart?”

“Emil, that’s a massive discount,” Tifa stammers.

“Yeah I know, Shin-ra’s made titanium and good mithril dirt cheap nowadays. But still, to see someone actually use Tsurugi and not let her be a glorified set piece collecting dust—It’s worth it.”

“So what say you, Cloud Strife?” Emil asks as Cloud hums to himself thoughtfully.

“You sure it’s not that much of a bother?”

“Boy, you’d be doing me a favor by taking the damn thing off my hands, it’s a beauty and all, but First Tsurugi was meant to be used in battle—and it seems like you tend to encounter a lot of that,” Emil scoffs. “At least then she wouldn’t be collecting dust in storage.”

“...Alright.”

“Give me a few minutes to get her from the back. As for the dagger…I’ll have it done before the time your group leaves for Midgar.”

TIfa silently hands the dwarf a sack of what seems like round coins. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Know anywhere that sells PHSs lately?” Tifa asks. 

“Eh, try Robbert’s down the road, heard he scavenged a bunch and decided to reverse engineer them—sturdier than the shit Shin-ra sells, that’s for sure. Still works with most sim cards though.”

“Thanks.”

“Get that kid some good clothes too—his wardrobe looks like someone pulled him out of a reenactment festival!” he calls as Tifa turns to leave.

“Now, stay here while I get that sword outta storage,” Emil states as he shuffles off to the back.

“Feel free to take as many of those daggers in that crate as you like. Not like anyone buys them much nowadays—it’s either magic foci or those fancy-ass weapons that Shin-ra manufactures.”

—

Cloud hums softly to himself as he swings around the massive blade with interlocking panels that Emil took out from storage.

Somehow, the handle and weight in his hands felt perfect.

Exhaling, Cloud deepens his stance into a crouch before launching forward and swinging—a flicker of movement above kicking his instincts into action as he lets out a small pulse of mana into the blade and lets it condense at the tip before it disperses into the air with incredible velocity.

Two halves of a drone clatter to the ground, hissing sparks as Cloud hefts the sword—First Tsurugi—onto his back. Glancing upwards he notices that there were now two clouds where there was one before and winces.

Oops.

“So was that enough of a show?” he asks Emil who was staring at the severed cloud hanging in the sky, his jaw agape.

“Yeah, yeah,” the dwarf coughs, “Take good care of her will you?”

“Of course,” Cloud hums with a solemn nod.

…

“Do you know where Tifa went?”

“Eh,” Emil shrugs, “She’ll show up eventually, feel free to take more daggers if you need them. They’re just collecting dust nowadays.”

“Apparently guns and magic foci are the current trend, and those are the shit that Shin-ra specializes in manufacturing. It’s rare to find someone who appreciates traditional weaponry in this era. Shame the only other one is Sephiroth, why such a talent is working under Shin-ra, I’ll never understand.”

“Who’s Sephiroth?” Cloud asks with a tilt of his head as the dwarf’s eye twitches.

“Are you pulling my leg? There’s no one in either continent who hasn’t heard of the Silver Asura of Wutai!”

“Try me,” Cloud crosses his arms.

“Does the Wutai War ring a bell?”

“Nope.”

“The Crimson Hellfire?”

“...is that a ritualistic object or something?” 

“...seriously?” Emil sighs, “Alright, I believe you.” He gestures to a nearby stool, “Take a seat, this might take awhile to explain.”

“Sephiroth is the first SOLDIER of his current model employed by Shin-ra. They call them “Firsts” now, but the reason why they call them that is because Sephiroth was the first of his type and became their standard.”

“The other ranks are varied by their strength in terms of Seconds, Thirds, and the cadet rank which are further separated into classes.”

“SOLDIERs are the elite military group under the direct employ of the Shin-ra empire, a nation of elves which currently rules three-fourths of the world.”

“Sephiroth himself is only a half-elf, but his other half is of a race that the elves hold in high regard as a god—pure blooded divine dragons.”

“His horns, ears, and pupils are how most people can tell his heritage,” Emil shrugs. 

“He was the one who waged war against Wutai and brought them to their knees,” he sighs, “They only surrendered recently, which is why he is being recalled to Midgar.”

“That’s the extent that everyone knows. The guy is a war hero to the people under Shin-ra, but…to Wutai, the SOLDIERs are their worst nightmare come to life.”

“...What are SOLDIERs?” Cloud asks as Emil shrugs.

“I heard that they’re enhanced by the Magic Tower to be gods in physical form,” he huffs, “I mean, they aren’t exactly exaggerating in that regard.”

“Doing what you did with Tsurugi?” Emil gestures to the sky outside, “To them it would be a regular Tuesday.”

“They’re most certainly stronger.”

Cloud’s expression becomes pensive as Emil stands. 

“I gotta go back to work, you can wait for Tifa here—if you need something just holler,” the dwarf states as he moves to pick up his hammer and the forge fills with burning heat.

—

…Stronger, huh?

A small smile settles on Cloud’s face.

—

When Tifa finally comes back she drags Cloud back to the Ifrit’s Inferno where she shoves Cloud into one of the windowless storerooms that had a cot and a dresser inside and hands him several shopping bags full of thin paper that poked out in an almost fluffy way.

“Go change!” Tifa orders as she points a finger at his face, “Don’t worry about the cloak, I made sure to get you a jacket with a hood so you don’t need to wear the cloak when you fight. Just save the cloak for winter.”

She hands him something that looks like a short sleeved jacket with a hood encircled by ashen fur. “And don’t worry—This is water-resistant and will clean pretty easily in water,” she winks before shutting the door with a click.

Carefully, Cloud sets down the bags on the floor and lays out the clothes that Tifa got him carefully on the bed and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Seriously Teef?

Cloud steps out of the room sighing heavily as he glances down at his exposed abdomen, “Seriously, Tifa?” he sighs, his cheeks dusted pink as the woman grins sharply. 

“Of course,” she laughs, “If they’re too busy ogling your abs then it distracts easily from your ears. Though technically your hair and eyes do that enough on their own…better safe than sorry though.”

“Still though, a crop top?” he deadpans. Tifa shrugs.

“At least the high waist of your pants covers where your belly button is supposed to be.”

Thank Loki that she was reasonable and gave me cargo pants though.

“At least it’s a turtleneck,” she shrugs. “Besides, you have a body which would make a straight man question their sexuality—Hel, I’m into girls, but I’d still look twice because you’re just too damn pretty that it should be a crime.”

Cloud’s face was a steaming red as he tugged his hood even further down, as Tifa walked up to him and dragged him behind the bar. 

“Anyway, moving on, how much do you know about alcohol?”

“...I metabolise it too quickly but…apparently it makes you loopy,” Cloud shrugs, idly tapping the toe of his boot against one of the floorboards. His face scrunches as he stills, “Tastes like wyvern blood. Burns the same too.”

“...never mind then,” Tifa chuckles, “I knew you didn’t get out much but damn, you really know next to nothing huh.”

“...will that be an issue?” Cloud tilts his head.

“Nah, I’ll have your back all the way,” Tifa smirks as she props a hand on her hip. 

“Actually, you know what—I’m going to show you how to make good SOLDIER grade booze,” Tifa declares, “And then—! You’re gonna get wasted!”

“Knowing how to recognize when you’ve been slipped alcohol is a handy skill, especially since it lowers your reaction times.”

“...Somehow I think that you just want to see me drunk,” Cloud retorts flatly, his lips twitching into a small smile that he hides behind his hand.

“Me?” Tifa grins, “Never!”

She grabs a few bottles off of the shelves and places them on the wooden countertop. 

“Okay, so first of all—Dwarves make the best booze, but the fae aren’t that far behind either, though they prioritise the concentration of alcohol and various other drugs in their booze above all else. No matter what anyone tells you, remember this—the fae are party animals and sex maniacs, so you should always turn down an invitation from them for anything,” she warns darkly, “Got it?”

“They may not be able to lie—but they will always twist the truth to suit their needs and are intentionally vague so that when you can jump to the conclusion that they want, they’ll manipulate you like a puppet. Always trust a fae as often as they get drunk—which is never.”

“Same goes for elves—except those bastards can lie so don’t trust them at all. Both their actions and their words.”

“Tifa…” Cloud taps the wolf-shifter on the shoulder as she turns to face him, “What’s sex?”

“You—” her face reddens, pales, and then reddens again as she coughs. “It’s a biological reproductive process.”

“Oh, so it’s short for sexual intercourse then, got it. But then why do you say the fae are…sex maniacs?”

“...forget I tainted your innocent ears by saying that,” Tifa sighs. “The fae are weird, got it? Just stay away from them, and for Hel’s sake, don’t trust anything that they say.”

“...sure…I guess,” Cloud sighs as he stares at one of the liquor bottles and uncaps it before sniffing it.

“Ugh, this stuff smells more corrosive than some of the sauces Ma tried to make.”

Tifa bursts into laughter. “Fair enough, Miss Strife’s homebrews were truly one of a kind according to my mother.”

—

Slowly as night falls there were only six people left in the bar, Barret, a fae with a rather thick glamor over her own appearance, a half-dwarf tinkering in the corner with a mix of wires and powders, and a friendly elf who was playing with a trio of white cats happily despite his size easily dwarfing them. Of course Tifa was there, shuttering the windows shut while Cloud had his head down on the counter—sleeping off the all the alcohol he drank as Tifa taught him how to mix cocktails.

“Alright!” Barret pumps his fist into the air, “Now that we’re all gathered, what do you say that we all do some introductions!”

“How about you go first boss man, to break the ice you know,” the half-dwarf looks up from  where he was working, letting his hood fall to reveal ears that were smaller than expected for a dwarf and would be abnormally large for a human. 

“Sure, Biggs. I’m Barret Wallace, the leader of this cell of AVALANCHE. If you don’t know what we do…well as a quick summary, we’re rebels who fight against Shin-ra!”

“As for why I joined…well…y’all except the kid over there have met Marlene at some point,” he shrugs. 

A few heads in the crowd nod as Cloud finally lifts his head from where he’s draped on the countertop. 

“The name’s Biggs. I’m a former mining demolitions expert, was conscripted for a few years when the Wutai war started out and well…I was…enlighted to some of their policies regarding “halfers” back then,” the half-dwarf scowls. “I’m more of the “plans guy” than an “explosions guy” but if you need something blown up, I can throw something together with just about anything.”

The fae speaks up next, “I’m Jesse. My reputation precedes me as an actress, but I’ve seen the way my kind has treated mortals as deplorable. Humans however? I…I was friends with one once…Once Shin-ra took over his town and the Tsivets came…I never saw him again.”

A dense silence falls over the room as a cat meows to shatter the silence. 

“I’m Wedge!” the rather large man speaks up, his voice rather boyish still, “I tend to play with most of the younger children. But then I started seeing the human ones going missing and when I looked into it…well…I tried doing something about it. But elves aren’t exactly the kindest species when you don’t…adhere to certain standards.”

“Tifa Lockhart—Wolf-shifter from up north. I don’t particularly like Shin-ra’s stance on humans because my Oathbrother is a human and he can kick their asses any day of the week. Meek and servile my ass,” she grumbles. “I’d feed them to a nesting mother dragon if I could. Those things would tear those vain upstarts to shreds.”

“Though I guess beating the lesson that mortal doesn’t equate to weak with my fists would be rather an enjoyable experience instead,” she grins, her canines flashing.

Silence falls over the bar as they look to the last member expectantly. 

Blue eyes blink as the smallest member of the group pulls down his hood to reveal bright blond spikes and small rounded ears. “Cloud. I’m human and well…Teef dragged me with her.”

Tifa smacks her forehead. “And you wonder why I accuse you of having no social skills…”

“Why?” Cloud tilts his head, “I told them my name, didn’t I?”

“Okay, for much-needed clarification, this adorable chocobo here is Cloud Strife. He’s my Oathbrother and the best fighter you’ll find in the entirety of the Western Continent. He has mako eyes, but that’s just a byproduct of him being blessed by the Old Gods and well…his rather questionable habit of soaking in natural mako pools.”

“Why do I feel like I’m a product that you’re trying to oversell Teef?” Cloud deadpans. “Also: I have no genetic relation to that flightless avian species. So don’t call me a chocobo.”

Ignoring the blonde’s protests, Tifa gleefully puts him into a headlock as she proceeds to mess up his hair. “Three things that this idiot doesn’t like—being called weak or short, bullies of all kinds, and beings who discriminate against humans without just cause. Shin-ra just happens to meet all of those criteria.”

“...So the sword is compensation then?” Jesse drawls, a smirk on her face as she looks him up and down before licking her lips. Her eyes widening as her eyes notice the black letters on his right wrist. “Shame, he’s marked.”

“Shit, really?!” Biggs gapes. “Well damn. Not every day you see that.”

“Did you get your first dream yet kid?”

“Nope, unfortunately, he’s not close to any of them geographically so the dreams can’t link them up,” Tifa shrugs. “He doesn’t talk much—you know how it goes, he has crippling social anxiety.”

Barret laughs, “No worries! The kid just has to warm up to the rest of us first, yeah? Anyway, Cloud!” The dwarf ruffles the mess of blond spikes further, “Welcome to AVALANCHE.”

Chapter Text

“Raining again today, huh?” Cloud hums to himself as he pulls his hood further down over his head. “...I miss Tsurugi.”

Trekking past steaming puddles of semi-solid gray goo, Cloud makes his way to a makeshift camp set up inside a cave. Leaning against the wall, he glances at the decomposing corpses. “...Seems like there’s more of them today,” he sighs.

He felt the pricking sensation on the back of his neck ease up a while back, so it seems to him that the Turks completed their preliminary investigation of the surrounding area.

...They probably found the entrance. Good. That means they’ll finally send out an adventurer or two. A high-ranked one at the minimum given these demons aren’t exactly weak. 

At least that means it’s finally time for me to take action. I’ve gotten bored of waiting, Turks are annoying.

Cloud hums as he closes his eyes slowly letting himself drift into unconsciousness for the first time in a week.

—

The first observation he makes is the color white. Second was the crunch or lack thereof of freshly fallen snow under his booted feet.

Thirdly, was the fact that he was standing in a familiar field of sapphire flowers without the familiar wind running through his hair similarly to how his Ma would run her fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as a child.

This looked like Mount Nibelheim, but it wasn’t.

Almost seemingly on a whim, Cloud decides to make the trek down the mountain, maneuvering down rocky paths and jagged brambles, somehow the path was shorter than he recalled.

Instead of the familiar barren earth of Nibelheim, Cloud’s eyes widen as he’s greeted with the sight of gently curved trunks of trees that stretch to the sky, blue fruits hanging from their branches.

It smelled of earth and life , something he only got accustomed to in the forests surrounding Midgar’s walls. 

“Hey Angeal?” a voice calls out as Cloud stills, hiding himself behind a tree as he hurriedly bites his thumb until blood spills from broken skin and draws runes on his body which softly glow gold as he activates them. 

“Was there a mountain in our dreamscape before?”

“...No,” a deeper voice chimes in, almost in shock, “Not even in Banora was there a single mountain that tall.”

“Yeah, I thought so, there’s nothing like that in my Gongaga section, or in Seph’s shell of the tower he grew up in.”

Cloud peeks out around the tree trunk as he spots two figures in similar ribbed turtlenecks and leather light armor. Both of them had wild black hair, the smaller one having spikes nearly as wild as Cloud’s. The taller one had two sets of bright white wings sitting on his back, while the other had tapered ears that were shorter than that of your usual elf.

“Do you think that…?” the shorter one’s voice trails off as his expression becomes thoughtful.

“Chances are that our last soulmate has finally arrived in the dreamscape, yes,” the taller man sighs. “Though we should be wary as they are an unknown, Zackariah. Be careful.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the shorter man pouts, “You don’t need to remind me, Angeal.”

“When’s Gen and Seph gonna get here anyways?”

“I believe that they should be falling asleep around now,” the winged one—Angeal—hums as Cloud feels something like electricity rush through him.

“Ah. They’re here,” he says as the elfen boy, Zack, lunges at a figure that appears with auburn hair which nearly hid pointed ears from sight. 

“Gen!”

“Get off of me, Puppy,” the crimson garbed fae grumbles as he peels the energetic elf off of him by the collar of his turtleneck. “How you manage to deal with this one , dearest Angeal, is beyond my understanding.” 

“He’s just energetic when he’s happy, especially given what we know now,” Angeal sighs.

“Could be a little less energetic if you asked me,” the fae grumbles as his eyes narrow at the snow capped mountain in the distance. “Was that mountain there before?”

“About that, no, it wasn’t. We believe that our last soulmate has finally entered the dreamscape,” Angeal hums as the fourth and final individual in the clearing comes into view.

Silver hair the color of starlight contrasted the elf’s dark choice in clothing, only his chest was left uncovered, which only accentuated the enthralling beauty of the dark horns arched around his skull. The vibrant slitted green eyes only further enhanced the man’s almost alien beauty with a sense of danger that slowly crept up Cloud’s spine.

“I see,” he hums quietly as the fae scoffs.

“That’s all you have to say on the matter? How eloquent of you, Sephiroth,” the fae bites out as Cloud stiffens in recognition of the name.

Every single instinct in his body was blaring at him to run.

Silently, he made his way back to the field of forget-me-nots. While they did not possess his Ma’s presence amidst them, the reminder was stabilising for him nonetheless as his mind was sent reeling.

—

“Should we investigate the mountain?” Zack asks eagerly. “I know Gen and Seph haven’t ever seen snow before so this should be fun.”

“Snow? I think you're mistaken, mountains are nothing more than barren rock,” the fae scoffs.

“Genesis,” Angeal deadpans, “Be nice.”

“This is me being nice,” the fae sniffs haughtily. “Snow is directly opposed to my elemental nature.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing if our last soulmate really does find comfort in such a dreary place—mountains typically are even more deadly and bland than even the tower our dear General was raised in.”

The fae crosses his arms as he gestures to the mountain in the distance, “Generally they are populated by high-ranking demons. As for the people that live around them, well— All that awaits you is a somber morrow / No matter where the winds may blow .”

“Wait—really?!” Zackariah exclaims a grin spreading across his face. “That sounds awesome!”

“For most people it would not be a good situation to be in, Zackary,” Sephiroth points out as the young half-elf’s expression wilts. “Most beings are not as fortunate to have the longevity and constitution to hone their combat prowess as most in Midgar have.”

“This debate is going nowhere, so if we’re going to investigate the mountain, let us depart. It’s not like weather conditions can affect us within a dreamscape regardless,” the half-dragon orders.

Tentatively, the three other adventurers agree as they make their way towards the snow-covered mountain in the distance.

—

Cloud startles from where he was sitting amidst the flowers in the snow as he registers the sound of snow crunching under footsteps. He quickly sits up, yelping as he hits his head. 

“Ow!” a voice yells as Cloud shakes his head to clear up the pain. 

It’s the group from before.

“This is why you need to be more careful, Zack,” the auburn haired fae tisks as the young half-elf glares at him. 

“Like you’re one to talk, Genesis,” the spiky haired elf fires back a smile stretching across his face. The fae scowls.

“Children,” the winged man from before—Angeal—sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m surrounded by children .”

“Oi!” the pair protest as the corner of Angeal’s mouth twitches into a smile.

“You’re quick to startle, aren't cha Spiky?” the half-elf—Zack—grins as he crouches next to Cloud.

Reflexively, Cloud reaches up to pull his hood down even further. Zack frowns at his lack of response.

“You aren’t very talkative, are you?”

“Or maybe you just talk too much,” Cloud mutters as he stands, dusting the snow off of his cloak.

Turning to head further up the mountain, Cloud feels a hand close over his wrist and time blurs as his body simply reacts .

One moment, there was a hand closing over his wrist, the second, there was a mop of spiky black hair and blue eyes looking back up at him from the snow.

“Wow, okay. Ummm,” the young elf blinks as he tries to get over his shock. “That was pretty cool.”

“I…didn’t intend to do that. You just…I…” Cloud chokes as his words refuse to come out of his throat, his stomach roiling. 

“It’s fine Spike! No harm done! I didn’t know that you’d react like that either!”

“I…” Cloud sighs as he takes one step, and then another, away from Zack. “...Alright…”

The five of them stood in silence, the stillness of the air almost eerie as Zack’s eyes finally take in the scene around them as his eyes light up.

“Wow! I didn’t know flowers could grow in snow!” he scrambles to a sitting position as he picks out a vibrant sapphire bloom that was stuck in his hair.

A hand clad in leather snatches the flower from Zack’s grasp as the red-headed fae inspects it thoughtfully. “Forget-me-nots, not surprising since they can grow in snow, but given the context of this location’s very existence, why fragile flowers of all things would be significant to him, I have no clue.”

“You have an orchard of Banora Whites,” Zack deadpans as the fae coughs.

“Yes, well,” Genesis shrugs, “That is a different matter as I used to raise them. Not to mention that I met dear Angeal when he decided to crash into the canopies of the trees that were raised by my sires for over a millenia.”

“Perhaps they have to do with the presence of that grave over there?” the winged man—Angeal—deadpans as he gestures to the small carved crystalline quartz behind Cloud which was decorated with the same blue flowers across the cracks in the stone.

They don’t miss how Cloud stiffens, their hearing picking up on the slight hitch in his breathing.

“So?” Zack tilts his head, a smile on his face. “What is this place to you?”

“...It’s…” Cloud’s brow furrows as he roots around in his mind for the right word in Common. “Home? No. Sanctuary…I think?”

“It’s where Ma is,” Cloud shrugs. “It’s where I lived for as long as I can remember.”

“But you’re near Midgar now?” Zack tilts his head in confusion. “If it’s your home…why did you leave?”

“...Tifa,” Cloud rolls his eyes. “She told me I needed to get out more. That there was more to life than stabbing things.”

“As if I didn’t know that. But all I have ever known was this mountain…at least until Teef dragged me out of here.”

“That just sounds sad,” the fae—Genesis—states flatly, a few gazes eyeing him skeptically. “What? All I heard was how he was such a coddled child that he’s not even wise to the ways of the world. It’s pathetic really.”

Mentally Cloud notes that was extremely similar to Jesse’s thoughts on his situation—It took weeks of being forced to interact with him until the fae finally warmed up to Cloud. Then she became stickier than tar. 

I preferred it when she was an asshole actually…

“So what’s your name?” the bright-eyed elf chips as he tilts his head, “I’m Zackariah Fair, but most people call me Zack!”

“I…” Cloud’s gaze flickers to the fae warily as the sound crawling through his throat changes in an instant. “Call me Cloud.”

He doesn’t miss how the red-head’s neutral expression curls into a frown as Cloud quickly glances away.

“What brings you to Midgar in particular?” Angeal asks as Clod tilts his head knowing full well that he was well concealed by his winter cloak.

“I couldn’t get on a boat with my friends at Costa de Sol so I walked. They want to open a bar.”

“Wait what?” Zack blurts out, “Why couldn’t you get on? That’s only possible if you’re on a blacklist!”

“Or if he lacks any form of identification on him,” Genesis comments snidely as he glances at the small cloaked figure up and down. “Judging by his attire alone he most likely comes from the more rural areas of the Western Continent.”

“Close enough, Nibel is towards the far north, any farther and you’ll end up heading towards the crater,” Cloud hums. “Don’t know what identification papers were anyway. Tifa was going to get them forged but it would be more trouble than it’s worth to explain…certain things.”

“Like what?” the fae scoffs, “I doubt it’s that difficult.”

“...I have…a unique constitution that gives me a disposition towards a specific type of magic that is exclusively used by the so-called sea-faring savages,” Cloud shrugs. “And my mother, well, let’s just say that she has a history with Shinra.”

“What kind of history?” a voice speaks up, the gentle baritone cutting through the air like a knife.

Cloud tilts his head up to glare at toxic green, “That bastard stole the by-products of her fucking research and ran away with it. By-products that were crucial in stabilizing one of her experiments at the time which backfired and got her cursed.”

“Wait. You don’t mean President Shinra, do you?” the fae scoffs, blinking at Cloud’s stoic expression. “You’re serious.”

“Very. Do you know what it’s like to live in a rotting husk that cannot die?” Cloud bites out.

“Watching yourself ebb away day by day in unceasing, merciless agony—yet nothing would end it. Not a blade, not illness, not suffocation or poison. What more of a child cursed to watch the only person in their life who cherished them unconditionally whither away until there was nothing left of them. Not even a corpse. Nothing but a field of immortal flowers against snow and a howling wind that whispers with a familiar voice that has long since died,” he hums.

“That for me, was the entirety of my existence. I came into existence because of her, and when she died—she took my reason to live with her as well.”

“Curses are hereditary, you know?” Cloud chuckles darkly. “Not that immortals like you would ever understand.”

“You do not see death as mortals do, nor can you understand their pain. Why else did you all condemn them for the crime of living foolishly?”

“Humans created monsters,” Angeal retorts.

“So?” Cloud tilts his head. “Did you not ask why they created them in the first place?”

“Did Shinra not create monsters of their own? What of the Cetra and their WEAPONS?” he laughs, “They could annihilate the entirety of the Planet in an instant.”

“You stand next to the Silver Asura of Wutai and claim that humans were the only ones who created monsters, hypocrites.”

It was a passing thought to Cloud. 

Who else could stand at Sephiroth’s side?

SOLDIERs.

They were not his allies. Shinra was as much of a culprit of his Ma’s suffering as the people of Nibelheim were. 

They’re nothing but pieces in a greater whole. Complacent ones at that.

Skyé could not entrust his back to them. Never.

They would simply stab it once they figured out his true nature, or at the behest of Shinra.

The fae’s gaze did not lie, nor did the blank gaze of Sephiroth’s. 

Zack’s eyes were bright, but he was zealous in a way that only madmen were.

Angeal was much the same. His eyes were as firm as iron.

They are killers to their core.

Could he trust them?

No. For he was both “human” and a homunculus.

There was only one way such a clash of truths and faith would end—Cloud’s death.

“Sephiroth is not a monster,” Angeal rebukes sharply, his feathers bristling at the insinuation. “He was not born from heretical alchemy.”

“To be a monster, one doesn’t necessarily have to be an artificial organism,” Cloud deadpans, “Monsters are made, not born. Would you fault a blank slate for being born? Never mind. You would. Why else would elves have hunted human magic users to near extinction?”

“And why else would the Cetra have sanctioned it?” he sighs bitterly. “Your kind don’t understand what it’s like to be hunted like dogs by beings worse than beasts .”

“I didn’t either, at least until recently. My isolated childhood was good for something I suppose.”

Cloud notices the way his vision goes fuzzy at the edges as he feels invisible wind brush against his skin.

He sees the faery’s mouth fall open in lieu of a realization as the elfen dragon’s eyes gleam with realization.

He doesn’t notice the way the harpy’s face falls as if struck. The only thing he saw was a memory. A memory filled with cruel laughter and screams—a raid.

The first mission he went on without AVALANCHE.

It was just reconnaissance of a local hideout that Tifa forwarded to him under the guise of traveling to acquire more rare local liquor.

It ended up being so much more than that.

In a small town named Kalm, there was an underground slave market funded by Shinra under the table.

Their main product?

Humans.

Just the echo of the memory made his fingers itch for the familiar weight of a sword.

There was a reason Barret was so protective of Marlene and practically hid the girl away.

“Beneath its reputation and glamorous front,” Cloud smirks to himself, “Shinra is truly rotten to the core.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” the fae—Genesis—interjects, snapping Cloud out of his thoughts.

“Gen!” Angeal hisses as the fae ignores the larger man’s scolding.

“What? You can’t say you haven’t suspected it at the very least, Angeal dear?” the fae teases. “You may be a muscle bound fool, but you aren’t ignorant. No, that only really applies to the Puppy.”

“There was a reason they pulled you out of Wutai first,” Genesis states, “Well there were multiple. But all for a similar purpose.”

“Remember that one village? What was it? Tanaka?”

Cloud watches as Angeal’s face goes pale. “They pulled you out after that. To them, you started asking “too many questions”. Therefore, you weren’t as useful as Sephiroth and I at the front. Even when they brought you back, Lazard ordered you to let Zack handle the mission, didn’t he?”

“What are you saying, Genesis?” Angeal whispers, “They told me that was a mistake.”

“Shinra doesn’t make mistakes, Angeal,” Sephiroth cuts in. “And I was the one who suggested that strategy in the first place.”

By now Cloud realized what they were referring to, “An Asura indeed,” he muses aloud as their eyes snap back to him. “No wonder. His eyes look like that of a soldier’s. But you two? You have the eyes of killers. Of hunters who hunt to revel in the kill regardless of waste.”

They were the sort of people he disliked the most.

The type who wasted lives needlessly just for enjoyment. Meaningless loss of life—that was what irked Cloud the most.

“I hope we never meet again,” Cloud hisses as his vision blurs to white. “For if we do, I might just kill you both.”

—

Cloud gasps as he snaps awake, his head pounding as his fingers itch for a weapon, his hand tightly gripped around a sharp rock that has long since broken in his grip, the edges slicing into his palm.

An unfamiliar warmth burned in his bones, it warmed him more than the fire did. At the first growl and footsteps nearby of a monster—Cloud jumped into action, his body more eager than usual to burn off some energy in the disposal of beasts.

An ignorant fool. A zealot. A faery. A maniac without emotion.

Cloud laughs as he ignores the stinging in his eyes as he wrenches his eyes away from the black letters inked upon his wrist.

AGSZC

What a farce.

This is what’s supposed to make me happy? My would-be-murderers?

You were wrong Tifa.

I never should’ve bothered hoping that something like me would’ve been granted a gift from Gaia out of goodwill in the first place…especially with my accursed bloodline.

A monster being the soulmate of monsters leashed at the hands of beings worse than beasts.

Gaia’s humor is truly twisted.

—

Cloud glances up as he hears a faint chopping noise in the distance, a black helicopter settling down in the trees to the south. 

He smelt the familiar scent of processed mako stinging his nostrils from this far away, the presence of a fire-natured faery entering his range.

The faery had the subtlety of a wildfire. The others with him were…an elf and a harpy…then a being that felt like…

Cloud’s eyes narrow.

Of course I wouldn’t have it that easy.

Wetting his lips he mentally counts how many daggers he has on him right now.

I might as well fulfill it—that promise.