Chapter Twenty-Nine: "You Let Me In"

He was in pain. The kind of pain that stretches out lazily to all the parts of the body, too weak to complain about but too strong to be ignored. His head throbbed most of all, which forced his eyes shut and kept any stray light from stinging his sight. Cold rain dribbled over his face and off his nose in tiny waterfalls.

"Cloud."

Mud squished through his fingers as he pushed himself into a sitting position, and he gazed about as if for the first time. It was raining, and—

"What’s going on?" Cloud demanded, turning toward Sephiroth, who was crouched beside him. "We’re outside Nibelheim, aren’t we? Why?"

"To find the truth you so desperately need," the older man replied. "Look at yourself."

He did, and found that he was clad in the blue armor of a normal soldier. "I never made SOLDIER," he murmured, wiping clumps of mud off his sleeves. "I passed all the physical exams, but failed all the psychological tests. I was jut a regular soldier."

"That’s right." Sephiroth rose, and Cloud followed. "There’s more for you to see."

Then they were in Nibelheim, outside the Shin-ra mansion. Zack was there in the SOLDIER garb he’d chosen for himself, and Crono was in his blue uniform. They were chatting pleasantly in the early morning light. Cloud stared at them, and his mind’s empty space began to fill. "I never liked either of them," he said quietly. "Zack was too arrogant and Crono talked too much. There were foolish. They were always trying to make me their friend, but I didn’t care."

"And what about Tifa?"

Just then Tifa came running up to them, and the photographer behind her. She smiled brightly, but her words made no sound. Cloud watched as the photographer approached as well, and Tifa and Zack moved in to take the picture. Sephiroth joined them if only to enhance the scene. When he returned, Cloud said, "I wasn’t in the picture."

"Correct."

"I didn’t want Tifa to know that I never made SOLDIER, so I never took off my helmet. She never knew I was there."

Sephiroth nodded. "That’s why she always looked at you like you were crazy," he said with a smirk. "You said you were there, but she thought you weren’t. She probably didn’t even know you were the real you all this time."

Cloud stared at him, finally understanding what all those glances had been for—of course Tifa didn’t trust him. He’d been lying to her the entire time, and seeing things that weren’t really there, even if it wasn’t his fault. She had every right to suspect him.

And suddenly he felt sick. He’d made the wrong decision, and he didn’t want to remember anything else. He didn’t want to hurt Tifa—

"It’s too late for that, Cloud. You are mine."

He was in the reactor, and it hummed crazily about him. Sweat and steam dampened his face hidden within the helmet of his soldier’s armor. Zack was beside him. He was reliving the memories now rather than watching them; his heart was pounding.

Tifa screamed. Cloud watched as Sephiroth’s blade protruded from her back, and then was pulled free. He felt as if his heart had stopped as she tumbled down the stairs that led to the door of the Jenova chamber. Her blood covered him as he pulled her away from the path. Zack ran past and followed Sephiroth into the chamber.

"Cloud…you said you’d…" Tifa’s tear-filled brown eyes searched weakly the shadows of the chamber, as if she could find her faithful body-guard. Her body shook with the pain.

"Tifa…" Cloud stared down at her, and knew he’d made a mistake. He didn’t want to see anymore.

Zack’s body was thrown out of the Jenova chamber with such an explosion of silent energy as Cloud had never felt before. He landed in a heap at the base of one of the egg-shaped containers.

"Cloud." Crono crawled up beside him, his face pale with fear. "We have to do something—what can we do? He’s gonna kill us—"

"Shut up," Cloud hissed, gradually slipping back into the memories. "Stay with her—don’t let her die."

"But Cloud, how can I—"

"Just stay." He stumbled up the stairs and paused by Zack. The SOLDIER was unconscious and bleeding from the forehead. Cloud lifted the man’s sword and entered the Jenova chamber.

Sephiroth was at the top of a long pipe, reaching into a glass container where the gray from of a woman was held. Cloud cringed at the sound of ripping flesh, but he kept going. So far he hadn’t been noticed, and there was a chance for him. The fire was still fresh in his mind, as were the images of the terrible scenes he’d witnessed: his home, burning, and the deep crimson of Tifa’s blood. All at once he felt the hatred build inside him. With a choked cry of betrayal Cloud thrust his sword into the black coat, and he felt a bit of satisfaction as he heard the man’s surprised gasp. Liquid warmth spread over his hands, and he wrenched the blade free. An awful stench filled his senses.

Sephiroth braced himself against the tube. He stared down at the blood spreading across the floor, uncomprehending of its meaning; he’d never been injured before. He’d never bled before. With wide eyes he faced Cloud, breath gasping, with an expression of almost fear. "What…are you?"

"You killed them," Cloud hissed, and he hated himself as tears of guilt ran from his eyes. "My mom, my home—and Tifa. Bring Tifa back."

"How could you do this?" the man whispered, still staring at him. "You…what are you?"

"Shut up! Bring them back!" He moved to stab again, but Sephiroth struck him in the head with the handle of his sword, and the youth was sent tumbling to the bottom of the chamber. He landed, groaning, on the metal in a heap. "Se…phiroth…"

Now far above, Sephiroth turned back to the chamber. "Jenova…" he gasped, taking hold of the pinkish mass of flesh he’d ripped from her stomach. "Mother…don’t forsake me. I won’t die this way."

Cloud pushed himself heavily to his feet, still gripping Zack’s sword. But even with his anger he knew he was no match for Sephiroth. Silently he retreated out of the chamber. Zack was at least half-conscious by now, and his dull eyes sought Cloud’s with a question. Cloud ignored him and moved to where Tifa lay.

"I can’t stop the bleeding," said Crono, panicked and shaking from the stains that covered him. "I don’t know what to do, Cloud. I’m not a doctor—this wound is—"

"Shut up." He bent over Tifa, though he was in no better state to help her condition. "Hold on, Tifa," he told her, angrily scrubbing tears from his eyes. "We’ll get you out of here. Just hold on."

"Cloud…" Zack tried to sit up, but his body failed him and he collapsed onto his back once more. "Look…"

Sephiroth appeared in the door to the Jenova chamber, dragging his sword in one hand and carrying the pale parasite-creature in the other. He shuffled painfully down the stairs and out of the room without a word.

Crono turned to his comrade. "Cloud," he whispered, shocked, "how in the world did you—"

"You wounded him," Zack interrupted incredulously. "No one’s…ever done that before."

"He hurt Tifa," he replied, heading toward the exit clearly with the intention of going after Sephiroth. "I won’t forgive him."

Zack craned his neck to see. "Cloud, kill him," he rasped. "That’s not…the same Sephiroth." The blood from his forehead had by now covered his entire face like a scarlet mast, and he spat as it invaded the corners of his mouth. "Kill him."

Cloud stared at him a moment, and only nodded. He exited the egg chamber.

Sephiroth was only halfway across the gangway when Cloud entered, leading a trail of dark stains across the metal. He pushed against the railing for support. It was then that Cloud realized how severely he’d injured the man; somehow, it saddened him. He didn’t want Sephiroth to die—he didn’t want anyone to die. But then he remembered the agony on Tifa’s face, and his heart stiffened. There was only one choice, strengthened as his hands tightened about the sword handle. He had to kill him—here, now, while he had the chance. With a deep breath he shouted, "Sephiroth!"

The man turned slowly as the youth charged. "You won’t stop me as easily as that."

Cloud was still three feet away when the blade stabbed through his abdomen. He was too shocked to even cry out; the pain didn’t reach him at first, until he began to recover from his surprise. When it did he almost fainted from the intensity of it, but he managed to hold himself upright. "Seph…" A bitter taste rose in his throat. "Why…"

"I didn’t want to do that," Sephiroth breathed, watching as his young comrade trembled in anguish. "But I’m not going to die here."

"You’re wrong about that." Cloud took hold of the blade and pulled himself closer, not caring as the steel was thrust deeper and deeper into his torso. He was without thought or reason now; there was only one thing that mattered, and that was killing Sephiroth. He stalked forward until the sword hilt knocked into his chest armor. His eyes, full of pain, locked on those of his idol. He wanted to rage and scream, to question why, but found no words to describe his tumulus emotions. Instead he grabbed the thick straps that crossed the man’s chest, and with all his remaining strength hurled him over the edge of the railing. For the first time in his memory, Sephiroth feared for his life.

But fate had something else in mind for the companions turned enemies: just as Sephiroth began to fall over the side he twisted his sword, lodging the blade in the thick plated metal of Cloud’s armor. The youth was pulled to the edge but stopped his own demise by taking hold of the rail. And so the murderer hung from the handle of his sword that remained sheathed in the soldier’s bloodied abdomen.

Cloud gritted his teeth, devoting all his strength to keeping himself from tumbling over and into the dark abyss below. The pain stole tears from his eyes. Somebody help me…

Sephiroth adjusted his drip on the handle, as his hands were made slippery from the blood that covered them. He tucked the creature into his coat and reached for the rail, but his fingers began to slip. Desperate, he looked to Cloud. His gaze swam, and his throat was beginning to become choked with the effects of his injury; he was dying. He didn’t want to die. "Cloud," he said calmly, "pull me up."

The youth didn’t hear him, too caught up in his own struggle. He tired again. "You’re dying, Cloud, aren’t you?" And even though he hadn’t raised his voice, Cloud could hear well enough. "You’re in pain. You can’t breathe, and you can’t taste anything but your blood. It’s getting dark."

"Shut up," Cloud hissed, trying to dislodge the blade. "You’re going to die."

"Neither of us have to die, Cloud." Sephiroth no longer spoke with a dangerous edge; his voice was quiet and reasonable. "Just pull me up. I can save both of us, if you let me."

He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that if he saw the man’s face, he’d give in. "No. No deals." He coughed violently.

Again the SOLDIER member attempted to grab the metal bar, but his hand slipped on the sword handle once more, and he quickly retook his grip. "Cloud, don’t be a fool. Even if I fall you’ll die from that wound. Zack…and Tifa. Tifa will die." Cloud’s face twisted in anger, and Sephiroth knew he’d discovered his salvation. "Tifa will die soon, Cloud. She can’t survive the loss of blood. Only I can save her."

Cloud was barely conscious now, fighting against the lengthening shadows of the reactor’s crevices. "How…?"

"Pull me up, and I promise to save you and Tifa."

There wasn’t any other choice. Cloud twisted his legs around the bars and held out his hand. Sephiroth took it, and with the boy’s help was able to drag himself over the rail and onto the gangway. There both collapsed, the younger still impaled on his elders blade.

Sephiroth watched him, and his mind churned with possibilities. "Thank you," he wheezed, utterly exhausted. He’d never been so tired in his life. "But that’s not enough. We’re all still going to die. I can stop it, though."

"I…" Cloud gripped his stomach, and very slowly began to drag the sword out of him. His cries of pain echoed within the metal walls. "Tifa…"

"I can stop it," he repeated, and with a sickening rip tore the weapon free. Cloud yelped and rolled onto his back. "If you let me, I’ll make it so that Tifa never gets hurt again."

"Tifa…she’s dying…?"

"Yes, Cloud. And so are you. Give me what I need and neither of you will die." Sephiroth placed his hands over Cloud’s chest, listening to the palpation of his heart. It was weak, but there might have been a chance; his own organ was scarred and slowly running down from the hole gouged in it. His body had been able to prolong its end, but soon…

"Do it," Cloud hissed, fading quickly into unconsciousness. "But…promise me…you won’t do anything…to hurt Tifa…"

"I promise."

It was possibly the most terrifying experience of his life. He felt as if in an instant his existence had been brought to a cruel end, and only darkness awaited him in a screaming, burning hell. He felt pain beyond all imagining but he could not cry; his lips trembled with whispered prayers. But through the torment and the horror he clung to the image of the perfect young girl with the shinning brown eyes and the waves of dark hair; that goddess in his heart. Her lips smiled at him. For that, he condemned himself to the fates.

And he never heard the voice deep within his mind as it recoiled in defeat, whispering, over and over…

***************

Suddenly Cloud was thrust back into his body in Cosmo Canyon, back to the present. He felt dulled by the visions he’d been shown and the truths finally uncovered. "All for Tifa," he murmured, struggling to comprehend.

"That’s right," Sephiroth replied. "Her life for yours. I promised to never let anything harm that girl, in exchange for the safe keeping of my spirit inside you." He came closer. "Do you understand what that means? Our lives are woven together, inseparable, and even if I roam to control this body my essence lives in you. My mind in your mind, my soul in your soul."

Cloud took several steps back. "Stay away," he hissed, growing panicked though he wasn’t sure why. "Leave me alone."

He laughed. "Don’t you understand? I live in you; I can’t just go away. You let me in." He grinned wickedly, and his voice lowered. "It’s all true. Now that you know my secrets, it’s time for you to tell me yours."

"What? What secrets?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

They were in Nibelheim again, but this time Cloud was a spectator instead of a participant. He was watching two familiar figures: Sephiroth and Celes, running together up the path. They looked very youthful, and were being followed by a boy that looked even younger. "What is this?" Cloud demanded sharply, emotions of fear and anxiety radiating from the three sprinting SOLDIERs. "Why are you showing me this?"

"The boy’s name is Tata," Sephiroth’s voice floated to him from all around, as if spoken from the mountains themselves. "He was Celes and my partner twelve years ago, fresh out of training."

"Twelve years ago…when Kefka died…"

"Yes."

He was seeing through Sephiroth’s eyes now, viewing the cold gray rocks and the young woman at his side; for a moment he caught a glimpse of Celes’s strained countenance before the field swung to face a battle scene. Brilliant flashed of light filled the clearing. A young man was battling against a terrible enemy, but even stranger than his victory was the shock and terror that accompanied the SOLDIER’s end. Are those your feelings, Sephiroth? Cloud wondered, watching as Glenn—he knew it to be him—mercilessly slaughtered and mutilated the dead body like a wild beast until the rocks stained crimson. You were afraid of him…

"Kefka was the first SOLDIER. He was already a legend."

"I didn’t ask that." Cloud wanted to pursue the point, but his attention shifted as a form darted across his sight: Tata. He got the impression that Sephiroth had took hold of Celes to keep her from following, and together the pair watched in horror as their partner fell under the glowing blade. His body was torn to unrecognizable pieces.

During the brief struggle Kefka’s body—what remained of it—was hit, and a tiny black sphere fell out of his shredded clothing. It rolled quietly across the stones and vanished over the edge of a cliff. Glenn took notice, but after his battles was unable to follow. He collapsed into the dirt.

Sephiroth saw it too, and he gave chase, leaving Celes behind—Cloud could hear her crying softly. He leapt down the cliff, spreading clouds of dust at his landing, and followed until the ball rolled down a slope and came to rest at the bottom of a shallow ravine. Already there was—

"What is this?" Cloud shouted, trying break free from the phantom dreams. He felt as if his entire body were shaking. "Get me out of here—"

"You idolized Tifa as a child, didn’t you?" Sephiroth continued anyway. "But she had plenty of friends. She never noticed you."

"I don’t see how—"

"Twelve years ago she was eight years old. Her mother died. And she remembered a story." He was plucking the details out of Cloud’s own mind as the barriers came down, revealing more of the forgotten scene. "People always said that those who cross the Nibelheim Mountains never return, and since her mother had gone to a ‘far away place’ from which she ‘couldn’t come back,’ she assumed deductively that they were related. So she came out here to look for her."

Lying in the ravine were two small children, bruised and unconscious. They were Cloud and Tifa. Sitting casually beside Cloud was the Black Materia.

"One of the bridge planks fell out. You tried to save her, but you both fell. The fact that we met that night was purely coincidence, but in my younger days I was a bit superstitious. I thought it was fate."

"I don’t want to—"

Sephiroth reached down and picked up the Black Materia. He studied it, clasped it tightly, and shuddered. He could feel the power held in it, the pure energy that called to him. Startled by the intensity he dropped it once more. He was confused and afraid—why would such a thing of evil cry out to him? He found its beauty strangely alluring…

But the fear in his instincts forced him to reject the obsidian icon. This stone had brought death to his two comrades, he knew, and he had to get rid of it.

The young Cloud opened his eyes slowly, groaning softly in pain. He wiped blood from his nose. His present consciousness viewed the scene with a kind of horrified fascination as his memory gradually returned to him. The boy sat up and set his pale eyes on the man standing over him. "Who are you?"

Sephiroth stared down at him, and an idea came to his mind. This device of evil—what better place was there for it than the innocent hands of a child? A child who had risked his life for his friend. For a child could not use materia, and a child was incapable of the kind of evil such a thing required for its function.

It might have been bad judgement, but he could think of no other solution—at all costs, he had to keep it away from Shin-ra, and himself, for whatever reason. "Hello, kid," he said, picking up the materia once more. "I need you to do something for me."

The young Cloud stared at him blankly. "What?"

"This." He crouched down and handed him the Black Materia. "It’s a special stone." He quickly formulated a plan. "But it has a very strong power that must be captured. Can you help me?"

Cloud’s younger image gazed at him, amazed that this tall, important man would ask him for help in such a matter. He nodded.

"Good. I want you to put that in a place where nobody goes, and tell no one. Make sure that no one will ever find it, and leave it there." His intense green eyes sunk into the child’s. "It is a very evil thing. Never think of it—forget that it’s there, and never go back, even if I ask you to. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded again, then glanced behind him. "Can I tell Tifa?"

"No. Not even Tifa."

"Oh." He stared down at the dark stone, and even in his youth he was somehow able to sense the urgency in his task. "Alright. I’ll do it."

"Good." Sephiroth scooped up Tifa’s unconscious body, and Cloud climbed to his feet. "You’re from Nibelheim, aren’t you? I’ll take you back…"

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