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Part 24 of Our Shining Past
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2017-09-15
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Brilliant, Perhaps Too Brilliant

Summary:

"This way, we'll both get what we want."

"Gya haa haa haa!"

(9. conspiracy) for Seph&Zack Friendship 100 Themes

Work Text:

Sephiroth delivered a stack of classified paperwork to the labs and sighed when the techs scurried out of his way. He set the monthly budget report on Hojo's desk next to the new, disturbing calendar featuring frogs in sunglasses. Colorful shards of materia glittered forlornly on the floor under the chair. In the corner, that bag of shaved wood bedding for the animals in Lab 3 looked heavy. He'd carry it there for them; he was curious anyway.

The mice, some gray, some a cream agouti, were in their glass enclosures in Specimen Holding Room 12. He put the bag down and went to read the notes taped to their cages.

Strange things happened in the labs (wasn't that their purpose?), but he wasn't expecting the mice to lunge at him desperately. They threw themselves at the barriers and bloodied their noses. Cracks appeared and spread. What had given them such strength? They all crashed free at once! The cascade of glass became one noise and the crazed mice surged towards him like something out of nightmare.

Sephiroth fought his impulse to attack and cast a Wall instead. He wanted them to stop.

They did. That was as surprising as their earlier behavior.

He was surrounded. The spacing between them was exact. Broken and battered, they stared fixedly at him, silent, motionless, bleeding on the white tile.

In that condition, most of them should be dead by now. It reminded him of one of those awful zombie movies Zack liked. He didn't know why he cared, but he didn't want them to die.

Not a single one did.

Their wounds closed, SOLDIER-fast... and... it felt like his wounds healing... no, they were his. Wounds he didn't have....

What was this?

There was no chance to find out. He had an "important" meeting to attend. Their formation rippled as the mice made a path for him. They watched him shut the door.

He flipped the sign outside to 'Do Not Enter'.

They were still watching him when he took the elevator.

"This way, we'll both get what we want."

"Gya haa haa haa!"

The carpet in the conference room had been cleaned last night. The fumes lingered and stank.

Reeve kicked off the meeting with a professional presentation on limiting vehicle emissions by implementing plans for new bicycle trails. Sephiroth listened politely; he was the only one.

Heidegger seemed more upbeat than usual, which meant he'd probably taken out his anger on a subordinate again. Pathetic. Sephiroth would never stoop so low, himself.

President Shinra directed a statement at him. "General. The frequency of your reports on AVALANCHE hints at the vermin being particularly difficult to dispose of. Perhaps more drastic measures are necessary. Do you need help from another department?"

"I assure you I am quite capable of dealing with this alone," Sephiroth hid his scowl, "Sir."

President Shinra accepted his answer with a nod, but Rufus's honeyed voice taunted him. "Of course, General."

Scarlet was late but that obviously didn't matter. The powerful new mythril laser had proven viable during this morning's test! With it they could reach lethal temperatures previously unheard of, accuracy undreamed of. It would completely revolutionize long-range warfare!

Tseng had nothing to report.

Palmer suggested another rate hike, which President Shinra agreed to. But Palmer's hopes were dashed by the announcement that the funds would go to the Science Department. Hojo looked up from his notes momentarily and muttered his gratitude.

Sephiroth left first.

The folder was on Sephiroth's desk.

Zack had an idea of what type of mission it was. He'd noticed a pattern a few weeks back and meant to confront his friend about it, but wasn't sure what to say. He'd tried yesterday.

"I know what your plan is, Seph."

"Oh? Which one?"

He'd wanted to reply, "Why you've been assigning the missions like this," but had picked a different scheme instead.

Lately, Zack had been given only the more peaceful, friendlier ones. Make the world better, help civilians, show them that SOLDIER and Shinra are not the enemy, etc. Sephiroth went out of his way to take the anti-terror kind for himself, either because he was trying to shelter Zack or he just enjoyed those too much. Probably both. It was sort of understandable: Zack was good with people, his charm put them at ease, unlike Sephiroth, who had to work at that because intimidation amused him. It was true that Zack preferred the duty to protect rather than the duty of violence. But Zack was Sephiroth's second-in-command, Lieutenant General in his own right. He had taken missions as dark as any Seph did now that the war was over. He didn't need special treatment.

Of course, it could all just be a coincidence.... Heh.

There was an, admittedly risky, way to determine that.

Wait, AVALANCHE? He'd wiped them out so frequently that the other groups denounced the name as unlucky and had stopped using it. Perhaps the president hadn't read the most recent report.

Zack had been in his office. The chair was swiveled in that particular way and the level of coffee in the pot didn't reach the highest mark anymore.

What had his second done now? Sephiroth wouldn't be caught off guard by one of Zack's pranks today. Tuesday had been bad enough with the bees. If only he'd heard that in time.... Not today.

Interference from the fan did its best to thwart him, so he listened harder, opening his senses to the world and allowing himself to notice its myriad little distractions. He rarely did so; the increased awareness reminded him of Wutai. He did not need that, had no cause for it, shouldn't call upon it without good reason, in case he made a mistake....

He closed his eyes against the light, and dismissed the scent of leather and metal that he shrouded himself in, along with its weight that he typically ignored. A strand of hair brushed his bare chest. He felt the sharpness of his own thoughts, his breath catching slightly at his pride in, vanity at, his cold and calculating nature. Such an indulgence.

A twitch of his fingers betrayed his wish to summon Masamune and then... to exult in the heat of the flames, his sovereign right when others' nerves fell silent from the burns. He wanted the fragrance of his enemies' fear, and of pain and shock and death, by his hand or by his orders, all those mortal agonies that dared not touch him regardless of proximity. The weak sounds that by their number joined together into the glorious din of war.... He could almost taste it....

But... he was no longer alone and Zack would not agree with his definition of 'glorious'.

...Zack.

When had he become so reliant on Zack to temper his madness that the mere recollection of his friend's name could call him back from the brink? It was so cliché, but he was grateful.

He was in his office, his carefully chosen sanctum of mundanity, where he could turn away from the dream... which gradually faded until he trusted himself to only listen past the white noise.

The wind rattled the glass and the building swayed. He heard the frustrated traffic on the street, and the music that he would've enjoyed if it wasn't President Shinra's favorite. Someone swore at too-hot coffee. Secretary gossip and IT complaints echoed through the vents. There was nothing from the lab; those floors were soundproof.

"The other preparations?"

"Tseng is taking care of it personally."

They were too far below. Sephiroth couldn't quite identify the voices.

"Gya haa haa haa! Everything's gonna go BAMMM!! I heard their hideout's in the Sector 7 Slums..."

"Are we really going to do this? The General said he could handle it."

"What's the problem, Reeve? You want out?"

Apparently he did. One pair of footsteps abandoned the speakers. A door slammed.

Sephiroth rubbed his temples. The touch of his gloves on his forehead was painful. He'd have a headache after this.

A short silence, and then, in a whisper that couldn't be anything but suspicious...

"You made sure the mission got to his desk?"

"Yes."

What did that mean? Sephiroth looked in his inbox for said mission.

It wasn't there.

Zack rode the train to Sector 7. No attractive young women wanted to look at the map display with him today, so he smiled at a diligent Shinra executive instead.

He stepped off the station's flagstones onto the slum dirt and strolled casually between the heaps of scrap metal. He returned any greetings he was given. He didn't bother to keep a low profile; Zack was more interested in spotting anyone who avoided or stared too long at his Mako eyes. Even with the Buster Sword slung on his back, he didn't enter blind alleyways.

Barking dogs, chain link fences. A man sat on a fallen pipe and craned his neck peering up at the pillar. The guy might've been drugged. The people who lived here had to work hard to be cheerful.

Surprisingly, Zack didn't see any monsters slinking around.

A piece of white printer paper fluttered in the dirt, too clean to have been here long. Glossy ink dotted the page.

'Don't be fooled by Shinra! Mako energy doesn't last forever! Mako is the planet's lifesource! The end is in sight!'

Sad, but not on its own evidence of anything.

The main square had a materia shop and a weapons shop and some houses with rusted roofs. And a bar that was new, called... he had to squint to make it out... '7th Heaven'. It struck him as a nice place, the kind that ought to have a buxom barmaid to grin at.

No, the bartender was a man with a realistic spider tattoo. There was a wide selection and a cool pirate flag hanging behind the counter.

Nothing suspicious so far.

Sephiroth didn't often hate being right.

So. They'd decided to dispose of him at last. A wasteful and stupid method, but it would have worked. The chances of him surviving an entire Plate dropped on his head were slim to none. Jenova disagreed. She always thought he'd be fine.

I wouldn't let you die.

As comforting as that might be, he had someone else to worry about.

Zack had taken the mission intended for him. Zack was in Sector 7, and would be there when....

Zack's personal phone rang. The phone helped his nonchalant image, although he should've put it on silent. Good thing he hadn't tried for stealth. He went to turn it off but that number was not to be ignored under any circumstances.

"Oh, uh, hey Seph." He nervously scratched the back of his head. He hadn't expected to get caught so soon. "I'm sorry I..."

"That's not important now. What was the name of the organization you were sent to hunt down?"

"AVALANCHE, but there's no sign of them anywhere."

"..."

"Seph?"

"They don't exist. The mission was a trap meant for me. You need to get out of Sector 7 as fast as possible..."

"They're going to do WHAT? Sir, I can't let that happen. I'll spread the news to evacuate..."

"Hurry to the top of the pillar. That's where they'll set the bomb. Stop anyone who tries to go up there, even Turks. Even Tseng."

"Yes, sir."

Zack shouted his warning, telling everyone to pass it on, as he ran to the support. Gaea, it would have to be enough.

Even if the explosives were rigged before he got there... he was no expert but maybe he could still...

Zack took the stairs three at a time.

He scanned for the emergency radio controls that would let him broadcast his message. Over there.

Someone already stood in shadow by the panel. It was Tseng. Zack's heart sank.

Tseng's eyes widened the smallest margin in surprise. "Lieutenant General Fair? Why are you here? Once I push this button..."

"Back away, Tseng. This is your one chance. I don't want to have to kill you to prevent this, but I have orders."

"As do I."

The signal for demolition surged up the tower.

Sephiroth heard the blast from his office. Nothing in Wutai had come anywhere close to this. The view from the window confirmed that the plate had fallen. Smoke reached high into the sky. Sector 7 was no more.

If he could not have survived that, Zack couldn't either. They wouldn't find him underneath the rubble in time for Revive.

That meant....

No. That would not be true. It was not. No.

He had been the target, not Zack. Should the scope of his initial revenge be greater for that, to punish their mistake? Not yet. If by some miracle Zack had survived, precision was important. He'd think this through.

So, who was responsible? Only one man could have ordered it. Was President Shinra so eager to get rid of him? Drastic measures, indeed!

Yes, President Shinra was afraid of his power, but the old man was a master politician. Because Sephiroth hadn't taken over the Company the moment he'd come home victorious from Wutai, the president should understand he was in no danger from his conquering General unless he broke faith first. So he wouldn't, not so obviously. He'd maintain the status quo to keep his gilded throne at the top of it all.

Still, his conscious involvement couldn't be ruled out.

Whoever did this wanted Sephiroth dead so badly that they didn't care what it cost. Who stood to profit the most?

Clever, Rufus.

He'd played on his father's fears of the Company being toppled by terrorist nobodies, the same omnipresent fears that generated plenty of missions of the kind Sephiroth was fond of. Rufus had noticed his preference and had scheduled the destruction of Sector 7 accordingly.

Rufus hadn't acted alone.

Tseng had seen to it personally.

And Heidegger. He may have suggested the operation to the president. His wounded pride at being so inferior would have been sufficient motivation, although Rufus could have promised him anything. Gya haa haa.

It was a start.

Sephiroth would reveal to them what he must do now that Zack was dead and he was not.

Not clever enough. They never were.

Explosions rocked the pillar.

The bombs had been connected in series. A spiraling, bursting bloom rose upwards.

"They detonated it remotely?" Tseng nearly lost his balance. "And no sign of the helicopter...."

One of the three suspension cables holding up the platform was coming loose.

"Shit!" Zack hauled Tseng to the edge and grabbed the wire. But it was too short to swing them to safety.

The fire caught his back
thrown beyond
shrapnel
falling...
Dirt.

"Fair!" Tseng was shaking him. His navy-blue suit jacket was shredded ragged. "Stay awake."

"Yeah."

"Thanks for the rescue."

"Uh huh."

"Of all the things not to foresee...!" Tseng couldn't laugh. "They meant for me to "retire" after this mission! I wasn't supposed to live through that."

"Who gave you the order?" Zack asked, while fumbling with his bracer. "And don't say it's classified."

Tseng didn't hesitate. Seems he'd already made the right choice of loyalties. "Heidegger put me on this, so it comes from the top. But, why were you there?"

He didn't have Restore on him. Damn. "A mistake. I wasn't the one they wanted. It was supposed to be General Sephiroth."

"That's the reason they did this? Before they make another attempt, I should..." Tseng whipped out his phone. "At least he'll be able to get out of the city to limit the damage..."

His well-intended warning was cut off by a voice that was all discipline. Zack winced. A snarl would have been safer.

"Did you know?" Sephiroth's barely concealed rage burned like the sun.

Tseng fell back on a default reply. That wasn't good. "No. It was a job. You understand, General."

"I do. However..."

"...?"

"Following orders does not entirely absolve you of... responsibility."

That tone was utterly chilling, both in the revenge it promised and the pleasure its owner anticipated as a result. Zack could picture the far away look on Sephiroth's face. He snatched the phone, stifled a coughing fit, and managed to say, "Tseng was set up too, Seph."

"Thank all that's Holy you're alive Zack."

"Whoa, never heard you use that one before! Alive, yeah, but injured pretty bad. All the hospitals will be overwhelmed so I'm bringing us to the labs."

"Be careful on your way."

"Yes, Sir."

Zack had survived! He'd been so ready to... But this wasn't over.

Tseng was likely not a traitor. Perhaps he should not have assumed....

Sephiroth paced back and forth quietly in his office, lights off, door locked, waiting. Tseng's call wouldn't have been traced. He should lie low for as long as possible to give the conspirators the opportunity to reveal the fuller extent of their plot. It was difficult.

Unable to accept total ignorance, he turned on (at minimum volume) the coverage of the atrocity that was Sector 7. Now he'd probably hear the deafening explosion and the screams every day for the next month.

So many wasted lives!

On the screen he watched roads being cleared to admit emergency vehicles for genuine displays of heroism. The rescue operation was being carried out by regular Army, Heidegger's department, courtesy of Shinra, Inc. No one would know that the benevolent fanfare was false; most wouldn't question it with the way things were.

Sephiroth wondered when word of his "death" would reach the media.

Oh, the added impact of that! It would be perfectly presented. Our prayers and condolences go out to all the families of the victims of the attack. We all join in mourning this tragedy. The perpetrators of this horrendous crime will be brought to justice. Oh? One moment... New information has unfortunately come to light. Reports have come in that General Sephiroth was caught in the blast and is presumed dead...

Of those otherwise not directly affected, some (many, such was his fame!) would be outraged at the loss of their idol. It would further fuel the witch hunt that would unite the populace in fear and hatred, the ideal atmosphere for Rufus to seize power. You need Shinra's protection now more than ever. In these dark times, loyalty is paramount...

Normally, Sephiroth would trust Zack to be brave but... trust was hard today. He should check on his friend, caution be damned.

Mother picked up on his concern.

He's alright.

How do you know that?

She sent him an image, sure that he'd be pleased.

In a white room. Hojo, syringe in hand. Sephiroth recognized the substance within but couldn't remember why. Zack struggled against the bonds in vain....

You'll be brothers now, and he can never leave you.

...Was that what Hojo did to the mice?

Jenova purred. She didn't understand why he was upset.

Sephiroth rushed to the labs.

It was as she'd shown him.

In Lab 5, Zack was strapped to a table, unconscious, breathing shallowly. His superficial wounds had been cleaned and were healing, but his uniform was burnt and torn. The effort it must have taken to get himself here, let alone bring Tseng....

Hojo loomed over Zack, brutally calm, preparing the injection, flicking the drop off the needle's tip...

Was everyone going to betray him today? He was already so tired.

In a flash, Hojo was on the ground screaming, every bone in his hand broken, mixed with the glass of the syringe, because Sephiroth had crushed both beneath his boot.

"Hojo. I trusted you. It seems I was mistaken."

Hojo looked up in shock and hissed through his suffering, "What is the meaning of this? I'm not stupid enough to do something to Fair without your consent, General!"

Sephiroth crouched down next to him and watched his pain. The serum was not reacting with Hojo's cells the way he predicted it would. He should have felt it, her? knitting the flesh back together... like with the mice. Through the blood, he smelled only traces of a common analgesic.

Paranoia had gotten the better of him. Disgusting. "She was wrong. I should not have believed her so recklessly."

"She?" Hojo remained remarkably lucid.

"Jenova. Get up, Professor, so I can Cure your hand before you lose the use of it."

Hojo staggered to comply. Sephiroth helped him rise. The damage repaired, Hojo's eyes glittered not with tears but with questions. He was not allowed them yet.

"How long will he be out?" Sephiroth said.

"Without reapplication of the drug, Fair will come around in less than forty minutes. His awakening will unfortunately be unpleasant, thanks to you." His bitterness was tinged with regret.

Hojo knew better than to expect an apology. It was somewhat awkward.

"So, Professor. Tell me about the experiment in Lab 3."

Sephiroth steadied Zack to keep him from sliding off the table. His muscles were tense and his pupils were dilated. Sephiroth sympathized; though it was not his own fear, he knew what it was like to wake up, disoriented, in the labs.

"Relax, Zack."

"Ey, Seph. Labs? What am I in for? ...Oh."

Zack made a relatively quick recovery.

"Sector 7! An entire Sector, lost! And we couldn't save them! Maybe, maybe some people got out... but Sweet Shiva!" Zack shook his head. That curse had been too mild. "Is Tseng okay?"

Sephiroth glanced at Hojo, who nodded.

"Yes, he should be fine."

"...President Shinra..." Zack's rage was incredible. Sephiroth had rarely seen him this angry. He really would have done it. Zack cared about him that much....

He tightened his grip on Zack's shoulder. "Wait. Hear my theory first."

"It was Rufus," Sephiroth explained. "He finally gathered the courage to make his move. He convinced his father of the terrorist threat, encouraged an extreme solution, and orchestrated events such that I would be in Sector 7 when it was executed. He sent Tseng without backup to set the bomb, abandoning him to die in the explosion. Then, he assumed Zack would kill President Shinra to avenge me, after which Zack would be found guilty of treason. With the president, Tseng, Zack, and myself gone, no one could have opposed Rufus's bid for power. The falling plate, blamed on terrorists, would have generated the fear he needed to rule. On the whole, it was a masterful plan."

Still groggy, Zack failed to choose an expletive. "So, what do we do now? How deep does this go?"

"Heidegger, at least, was in on it. But... you don't need to worry. Stay here."

"Are you certain?" Hojo asked, pointedly.

"Neither of you has to worry."

Sephiroth walked out, leaving Zack and Hojo to speculate on the details.

"This will be a political nightmare," Zack said. "The president might get away with it if Seph doesn't want the Company. But Rufus... Seph'll kill him after he gets the other names."

Hojo frowned and flexed his hand and flinched. And then he laughed. "No, he won't grant that."

On the way to the meeting, Sephiroth stopped by his apartment to retrieve something he'd denied himself too long. He lovingly caressed the precious yellow sphere and remembered the day in Wutai when he'd decided the turquoise sheen was the same color as his eyes.

Reeve said, "The estimated cost to rebuild is..."

"We're not rebuilding," was President Shinra's verdict.

"You will."

Sephiroth gave the rest of the board no time to register that he'd given the president an order.

"Rufus, may I have a word?" He strode towards the door and held it open graciously. The vice president met his gaze and did not decline the invitation to talk.

Outside the room, down the hallway, Rufus's confident façade was only the first thing to shatter in the presence of Sephiroth's welcoming, predatory smile.

There would not be a repeat of Sector 7.

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