CHAPTER XIII
Soft white beams of sunlight began to creep between the blinds, casting a musky glow about the open room, signalling that morning had arrived. The quiet hum of the NPBC morning newscaster on the television was the only sound in the apartment.
Mataea’s eyes slowly opened, mahogany hair tangled around her face; she was sprawled out on the leather sofa in her living area. She wasn’t sure if she had actually slept that night, after her midnight engagement with Rufus ShinRa in his private quarters atop the new ShinRa building. It certainly hadn’t been a success, and seeing his face brought the memories rushing back abruptly. Mataea’s excellent memory also seemed to give her the ability to forget certain unpleasant thoughts with ease; her childhood experiences as a ShinRa test subject most definitely fell under this category, but now the memories were prominent and intruding, impossible for her to dismiss.
She’d been a fool to have gone there in the first place; had she really expected Rufus to have told her what they’d done to her? And after hearing that story he’d told her... how she had caused an avalanche at the Northern Crater, and apparently told one of his employees about how she was planning on resurrecting Sephiroth. It just didn’t make sense; something else had to have happened at the Crater. Someone else was trying to frame her... but for what reason? She had done nothing to provoke Rufus, or anyone in his company for that matter; it was as if she was reliving one of her worst childhood nightmares: ShinRa was hunting for her.
Mataea rubbed her eyes furiously and forced herself to sit up. She gazed across the coffee table at the television, relieved to see that the headline did not contain her name. It didn’t look like ShinRa had gone public with their search yet. Mataea wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting the headline to read... Something like “Sephiroth’s accomplice identified! ShinRa launches planet-wide search for Mataea Linnaeus!” might have sounded proper.
She lifted herself from the couch and flicked off the television.
‘I’d better go,’ she thought to herself in agony, groaning aloud. It had been weeks, and he definitely would not be happy with her.
Half an hour later, Mataea strode out of her apartment and made her way out of the building into the streets of Edge. The city was awakening, as the air filled with the sounds of muffled car engines and children playing through the alleyways. As much as Mataea would prefer living somewhere a bit more rural, she couldn’t help but stand bewildered by the astonishing stature of the structures surrounding her. Built entirely from the rubble of Midgar, the people had pulled together in the toughest of times to create a new city to live in. Mataea had played a role too; recollections of crying children she’d pulled from the rubble after Meteor Fall rolled through her mind, before she had carried them to safety under the cover of night.
“Are you an angel?” a small boy had whispered to her, eyeing her marvellous aqua wings.
She smiled down at him gently. “I’m afraid not.”
Mataea was drawn back to reality as she knocked past a woman on the street. She saw the familiar grey overhang up ahead that read Angus’ Canteen; her heart began to pound as she slowly opened the glass door and stepped inside, the ringing bell above her not soothing in the slightest.
Hugging the left wall of the long narrow interior was a sleek black bar counter. Along the opposite wall there were some glass tables lined in a row, and on the back wall was a small stage. Mataea saw the gruff burly man behind the counter turn to face her, but something was odd, missing, from before.
“What did you do with the piano?” she blurted, remaining a safe distance away from him.
The bald man glared at her from beneath a thick brown beard. His abdomen protruded forward under a white cotton shirt as he leaned forward against the counter.
“Let me get this straight... Yer gone fer nearly three weeks without tellin’ me nothin’, and then yeh come back ta me now actin’ like yeh own the place? I don’t think so, Mataea. Yeh’ve been gettin’ into the habit of disappearin’ fer weeks on end, and this be the last straw. Customer’s don’t care about the piano anymore, they prefer other music, more modern stuff.”
Mataea frowned deeply, locking eyes with him. “I know at least a dozen people who’d come in just to hear me play! What about Riskal, and Lourn, and-“
“I don’t care, Mataea, that damn piano was a piece of trash ter say the least. Yeh got one at home still, don’t yeh?” Angus stood up straight and crossed his arms. “And it seems ter me yer missin’ me point: I want yeh out. The piano’s gone because yer gone, darlin’.”
Mataea’s head sunk, her eyes following the scuffs and scratches on the black tile floor. She couldn’t blame him, although she was angry. She certainly wasn’t reliable, but sometimes figuring out her past seemed more important than playing music in some garbage pub for drunken morons. But she did enjoy playing in front of a crowd for a change, instead of playing on her own piano to an empty apartment. If only she could tell Angus why she’d leave all the time, but even then she questioned if he would understand. She had a feeling that he’d never really liked her to begin with.
“I... understand,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“Yer sorry, well that’s sweet.” He turned around and started organizing bottles along the back wall. “But if I kept yeh ‘round, yeh’d be gone by this time next week, no doubt in me mind. Now get outta here.”
Mataea emerged from the bar and back into the busy streets of Edge, joining the flow of people back towards her house. She felt like an empty shell suddenly; she had worked with Angus for many months, the longest time she’d ever been at one job. That stability was now gone, although she could not blame him for his decision. She wondered how long it would be before ShinRa troops were patrolling the streets for her; thus, Mataea tried hard to enjoy her walk home, as she suspected she may not have that freedom either in the near future.
__________________________________
Reno stretched back in a chair in the Turks’ office, eyeballing Rude across the room at a computer monitor. He laced his fingers behind his head and swivelled his chair to face his partner.
“Hey, Rude, have ya noticed all the troops boss is having brought in?”
Rude continued to watch the screen in front of him. “Yeah, I bet it’s got something to do with what happened at the Northern Crater. I’m surprised that we still don’t know about it, though.”
Reno leaned forward in anticipation. “That’s what I was thinking!! And ya know that Elena and Tseng are totally in on it, but even they won’t spill the beans! I thought we were a team, man! We’ve never had secrets between any of us when it came to ShinRa stuff.” He crossed his arms firmly. “...You don’t know anything about it, do ya, Rude?”
Turning away from the monitor, Rude glared at Reno through his sunglasses. “All I know is that Rufus had Elena sent to the old ShinRa mansion up at Nibelheim... She found that computer that you left behind for your long-lost girlfriend, and Rufus put you on probation. Ever since then, the weapon rooms have been fillin’ up, we’ve got more choppers, more men... But the two might not even be related. Who knows. But I know that Elena knows just as much as you n’ me. Rufus didn’t tell her nothin’ about nothin’. It’s just Tseng who’s been keepin’ distant lately; I haven’t seen him around for days.”
Reno sighed, leaning back again, his long red ponytail falling behind his chair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He stared up at the ceiling and frowned. “I just wanna know what’s going on. Maybe he hit his head harder than we thought and he’s not doing so good.”
Rude turned back to his computer and started typing furiously. “Maybe he’ll come around with the low-down sooner or later, but for now, I’d keep your nose outta all this.”
“Hmm...” Reno closed his eyes and cracked a smile. “Well since I am on probation... You’re stuck with me anyways. You’ll keep me in line, right partner?”
“I guess I better, or else I’ll get a beatin’ too.”
__________________________________
Tseng stood silently behind the ivory curtain, awaiting the doctor’s arrival patiently. If he was to be examined, his entire plan may be put at risk; who knows what signs may become apparent from his invasion into this body. Just the other day, he noticed eyes beginning to change colours, his pupils becoming smaller. It was occurring very slowly, but it would definitely stir some suspicion if the doctor were to shine that bright light into his retinas. He must remain unknown until he had established his plan to gain control over the search for Mataea.*
Suddenly, Tseng heard the door slide open. He watched Dr. Prothe’s shadow carefully from behind the curtain. He seemed to pause at the doorway before slowly closing it behind him.
“Hello? Tseng?” His head turned towards the curtain. “I’m here for your examination.”
Tseng’s throat swelled, his hand tightening around the metallic object in his right hand. His eyes watched carefully as the doctor slowly approached him.
“Sir?” Dr. Prothe called. Apparently he could see Tseng’s shadow. “Do you need a moment?” His footsteps stopped a few feet away.
Now.
Swiftly, Tseng brushed the curtain aside with his free hand. He raised his silenced pistol in the air and took precise aim at the doctor’s head. Just as his expression shifted to fear and he began to turn for the door, Tseng took the shot.
Dr. Prothe’s body hit the floor silently, a bright red blood pool forming on the stark, white tile flooring. He would tell anyone who asked that the doctor had never shown for the examination; nobody would ever find the body after he had disposed of it. And of course, nobody would dare to question the loyal Tseng’s integrity. He grinned maliciously and slid the pistol into his pocket.
__________________________________
That night, Mataea lay dormant on the couch once again in her living space, the channel still turned to the National Planet Broadcasting Corporation. She opened her eyes and glanced at the television. Her name still had not made an appearance on the headlines, but she felt anxious, her dark apartment suddenly feeling foreboding.
She sat up and peered around the blackened room, thinking she had heard something. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck as a chill shot down her spine.
Knock, knock, knock.
She leapt to her feet, feeling herself almost hit the ceiling. Her heart began to throb violently as she gazed towards the dark hall towards the door. Surely they had not found her already! She should have left immediately, as soon as she had found out they were looking for her. Coming back to Edge had been a mistake; ShinRa had come for her!
Carefully, she crept across the floorboards and into the hallway, grabbing a small revolver from the hall closet. She gripped it in both hands, finger on the trigger, and approached the door silently. She turned towards the large window in the living area, ready to run. Trembling, she shouted behind her at the door, feeling her wings instinctively ready to burst from her back.
“Who’s there?!”
“Mataea? Is that you? It’s Vincent.”
Her body immediately relaxed, her shoulders releasing. Mataea pocketed the gun and released the latch eagerly, pulling the door open.
Vincent stood in the bright outer hallway. Towering over her, his bright crimson cloak brought her a sense of great relief. “Thank Minerva... I thought you were some ShinRa goons coming to bag me.”*
He smiled at her. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he said gently.
Mataea grinned and invited him inside, locking the door behind him. She led him to the kitchen area and flicked on the lights, feeling incredibly at ease now. “Can I make you some tea?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.” Vincent propped himself against the wall next to a window overlooking the city, watching Mataea as she grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. His gaze drifted throughout the apartment, through the kitchen and towards the living area.
“It’s not much,” she called to him as she poured water into a kettle. “... but it’s home.”
He admired some of the exotic masks and wall hangings throughout the rooms. “It seems like you’ve done a lot of travelling.”
Mataea turned and looked at him from across the kitchen. “Yes, well... I’ve lived all over the planet, and my... advantages, allow me to travel at will, wherever I like.” She placed the kettle on the stovetop and turned on the element. “I like being in the country, in small towns... where there’s lots of forests and trees and plants.”
Vincent frowned slightly and crossed his arms across his chest, watching her. “.. So why would you live in a city like Edge?”
She paused, thinking. “It’s not where I like to be, but in a way I feel safer here. There’s lots of people, so I don’t really stick out. Nobody notices me, so that’s good I guess, especially now that Rufus ShinRa’s looking for me...” Her voice trailed off as she placed the teabags in the mugs, her back turned to him. “I didn’t expect you would be here so soon, or at all, even.”
He blinked slowly, turning his gaze out towards the darkened city. “I was worried... I know just how ruthless ShinRa can be, especially when they want something.”
“Your friends are looking for me too,” Mataea blurted. “Did you tell them...”
“No,” Vincent said sternly, looking at her. “They know nothing.” He turned from the window and approached her, stopping in the middle of the room. Mataea turned to him, a look of terrible worry in her eyes. “I know that you are innocent, Mataea; I will not endanger you. I’m going to help you... I have... a history with ShinRa as well. I can’t just walk away.”
Mataea stood there silently, her eyes downcast. “... I know the only thing I’ve ever wanted is to live a normal life; I can’t help but think that I’m preventing you from having that. I mean, I heard all about the Deepground incident, and before that, you-”
Vincent stepped forward again, his voice stern but calming. “What I’ve been through, it’s not important.” He stopped in front of her. “Something more is going on, and I want to find out what it is.”
She forced an unsure smile, feeling guilty for ever having dragged him into this mess. “Thank you,” she said sincerely as the kettle started to cry. Mataea shut off the stove and began to pour the steaming water into their mugs. “I don’t know how to repay you... I’m certain that my tea is not that good.”
Vincent chuckled. “A cup of tea will do just fine.”
__________________________________
Late that night, Tseng sat perched at a computer alone in the Turks’ office, his eyes studying the monitor carefully. Before him, a video was playing. In the shot was a huge glass window that overlooked Edge. Off to the left side was Rufus ShinRa in his silk pyjamas... and to the right was a mystifying woman, with enormous turquoise wings.
Tseng’s throat was dry; the two were arguing about what the C-cells were. Thankfully, as he watched Mataea fly off on the screen, Rufus had kept his trap shut. If she were to find out they were the cells of the Ancients and complete the ritual, his final plan would not be possible. He may never have the energy to overpower her and resurrect himself. Luckily, things were still in motion, and planting that video camera in Rufus’s quarters had paid off rather quickly.
Winding the tape back, he clicked play and watched it again, over and over. He gazed at Mataea, remembering that time she’d blown up the training room and put him in the hospital wing. Looking at her now, he wasn’t impressed; she looked weak, average, not a challenge at all. If only he had been watching the live feed, perhaps he could have had her. She had been within his grasp at the ShinRa building, but he hadn’t expected this so soon.
Feeling himself beginning to become angry, Tseng calmed himself and rewound the tape again. Slowly, he began formulating a plan. With one click of the mouse, he erased the innocent cries of young Mataea, and examined the tape once again without the audio.
Perfect.
Mataea’s eyes slowly opened, mahogany hair tangled around her face; she was sprawled out on the leather sofa in her living area. She wasn’t sure if she had actually slept that night, after her midnight engagement with Rufus ShinRa in his private quarters atop the new ShinRa building. It certainly hadn’t been a success, and seeing his face brought the memories rushing back abruptly. Mataea’s excellent memory also seemed to give her the ability to forget certain unpleasant thoughts with ease; her childhood experiences as a ShinRa test subject most definitely fell under this category, but now the memories were prominent and intruding, impossible for her to dismiss.
She’d been a fool to have gone there in the first place; had she really expected Rufus to have told her what they’d done to her? And after hearing that story he’d told her... how she had caused an avalanche at the Northern Crater, and apparently told one of his employees about how she was planning on resurrecting Sephiroth. It just didn’t make sense; something else had to have happened at the Crater. Someone else was trying to frame her... but for what reason? She had done nothing to provoke Rufus, or anyone in his company for that matter; it was as if she was reliving one of her worst childhood nightmares: ShinRa was hunting for her.
Mataea rubbed her eyes furiously and forced herself to sit up. She gazed across the coffee table at the television, relieved to see that the headline did not contain her name. It didn’t look like ShinRa had gone public with their search yet. Mataea wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting the headline to read... Something like “Sephiroth’s accomplice identified! ShinRa launches planet-wide search for Mataea Linnaeus!” might have sounded proper.
She lifted herself from the couch and flicked off the television.
‘I’d better go,’ she thought to herself in agony, groaning aloud. It had been weeks, and he definitely would not be happy with her.
Half an hour later, Mataea strode out of her apartment and made her way out of the building into the streets of Edge. The city was awakening, as the air filled with the sounds of muffled car engines and children playing through the alleyways. As much as Mataea would prefer living somewhere a bit more rural, she couldn’t help but stand bewildered by the astonishing stature of the structures surrounding her. Built entirely from the rubble of Midgar, the people had pulled together in the toughest of times to create a new city to live in. Mataea had played a role too; recollections of crying children she’d pulled from the rubble after Meteor Fall rolled through her mind, before she had carried them to safety under the cover of night.
“Are you an angel?” a small boy had whispered to her, eyeing her marvellous aqua wings.
She smiled down at him gently. “I’m afraid not.”
Mataea was drawn back to reality as she knocked past a woman on the street. She saw the familiar grey overhang up ahead that read Angus’ Canteen; her heart began to pound as she slowly opened the glass door and stepped inside, the ringing bell above her not soothing in the slightest.
Hugging the left wall of the long narrow interior was a sleek black bar counter. Along the opposite wall there were some glass tables lined in a row, and on the back wall was a small stage. Mataea saw the gruff burly man behind the counter turn to face her, but something was odd, missing, from before.
“What did you do with the piano?” she blurted, remaining a safe distance away from him.
The bald man glared at her from beneath a thick brown beard. His abdomen protruded forward under a white cotton shirt as he leaned forward against the counter.
“Let me get this straight... Yer gone fer nearly three weeks without tellin’ me nothin’, and then yeh come back ta me now actin’ like yeh own the place? I don’t think so, Mataea. Yeh’ve been gettin’ into the habit of disappearin’ fer weeks on end, and this be the last straw. Customer’s don’t care about the piano anymore, they prefer other music, more modern stuff.”
Mataea frowned deeply, locking eyes with him. “I know at least a dozen people who’d come in just to hear me play! What about Riskal, and Lourn, and-“
“I don’t care, Mataea, that damn piano was a piece of trash ter say the least. Yeh got one at home still, don’t yeh?” Angus stood up straight and crossed his arms. “And it seems ter me yer missin’ me point: I want yeh out. The piano’s gone because yer gone, darlin’.”
Mataea’s head sunk, her eyes following the scuffs and scratches on the black tile floor. She couldn’t blame him, although she was angry. She certainly wasn’t reliable, but sometimes figuring out her past seemed more important than playing music in some garbage pub for drunken morons. But she did enjoy playing in front of a crowd for a change, instead of playing on her own piano to an empty apartment. If only she could tell Angus why she’d leave all the time, but even then she questioned if he would understand. She had a feeling that he’d never really liked her to begin with.
“I... understand,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“Yer sorry, well that’s sweet.” He turned around and started organizing bottles along the back wall. “But if I kept yeh ‘round, yeh’d be gone by this time next week, no doubt in me mind. Now get outta here.”
Mataea emerged from the bar and back into the busy streets of Edge, joining the flow of people back towards her house. She felt like an empty shell suddenly; she had worked with Angus for many months, the longest time she’d ever been at one job. That stability was now gone, although she could not blame him for his decision. She wondered how long it would be before ShinRa troops were patrolling the streets for her; thus, Mataea tried hard to enjoy her walk home, as she suspected she may not have that freedom either in the near future.
__________________________________
Reno stretched back in a chair in the Turks’ office, eyeballing Rude across the room at a computer monitor. He laced his fingers behind his head and swivelled his chair to face his partner.
“Hey, Rude, have ya noticed all the troops boss is having brought in?”
Rude continued to watch the screen in front of him. “Yeah, I bet it’s got something to do with what happened at the Northern Crater. I’m surprised that we still don’t know about it, though.”
Reno leaned forward in anticipation. “That’s what I was thinking!! And ya know that Elena and Tseng are totally in on it, but even they won’t spill the beans! I thought we were a team, man! We’ve never had secrets between any of us when it came to ShinRa stuff.” He crossed his arms firmly. “...You don’t know anything about it, do ya, Rude?”
Turning away from the monitor, Rude glared at Reno through his sunglasses. “All I know is that Rufus had Elena sent to the old ShinRa mansion up at Nibelheim... She found that computer that you left behind for your long-lost girlfriend, and Rufus put you on probation. Ever since then, the weapon rooms have been fillin’ up, we’ve got more choppers, more men... But the two might not even be related. Who knows. But I know that Elena knows just as much as you n’ me. Rufus didn’t tell her nothin’ about nothin’. It’s just Tseng who’s been keepin’ distant lately; I haven’t seen him around for days.”
Reno sighed, leaning back again, his long red ponytail falling behind his chair. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He stared up at the ceiling and frowned. “I just wanna know what’s going on. Maybe he hit his head harder than we thought and he’s not doing so good.”
Rude turned back to his computer and started typing furiously. “Maybe he’ll come around with the low-down sooner or later, but for now, I’d keep your nose outta all this.”
“Hmm...” Reno closed his eyes and cracked a smile. “Well since I am on probation... You’re stuck with me anyways. You’ll keep me in line, right partner?”
“I guess I better, or else I’ll get a beatin’ too.”
__________________________________
Tseng stood silently behind the ivory curtain, awaiting the doctor’s arrival patiently. If he was to be examined, his entire plan may be put at risk; who knows what signs may become apparent from his invasion into this body. Just the other day, he noticed eyes beginning to change colours, his pupils becoming smaller. It was occurring very slowly, but it would definitely stir some suspicion if the doctor were to shine that bright light into his retinas. He must remain unknown until he had established his plan to gain control over the search for Mataea.*
Suddenly, Tseng heard the door slide open. He watched Dr. Prothe’s shadow carefully from behind the curtain. He seemed to pause at the doorway before slowly closing it behind him.
“Hello? Tseng?” His head turned towards the curtain. “I’m here for your examination.”
Tseng’s throat swelled, his hand tightening around the metallic object in his right hand. His eyes watched carefully as the doctor slowly approached him.
“Sir?” Dr. Prothe called. Apparently he could see Tseng’s shadow. “Do you need a moment?” His footsteps stopped a few feet away.
Now.
Swiftly, Tseng brushed the curtain aside with his free hand. He raised his silenced pistol in the air and took precise aim at the doctor’s head. Just as his expression shifted to fear and he began to turn for the door, Tseng took the shot.
Dr. Prothe’s body hit the floor silently, a bright red blood pool forming on the stark, white tile flooring. He would tell anyone who asked that the doctor had never shown for the examination; nobody would ever find the body after he had disposed of it. And of course, nobody would dare to question the loyal Tseng’s integrity. He grinned maliciously and slid the pistol into his pocket.
__________________________________
That night, Mataea lay dormant on the couch once again in her living space, the channel still turned to the National Planet Broadcasting Corporation. She opened her eyes and glanced at the television. Her name still had not made an appearance on the headlines, but she felt anxious, her dark apartment suddenly feeling foreboding.
She sat up and peered around the blackened room, thinking she had heard something. Her hair stood up on the back of her neck as a chill shot down her spine.
Knock, knock, knock.
She leapt to her feet, feeling herself almost hit the ceiling. Her heart began to throb violently as she gazed towards the dark hall towards the door. Surely they had not found her already! She should have left immediately, as soon as she had found out they were looking for her. Coming back to Edge had been a mistake; ShinRa had come for her!
Carefully, she crept across the floorboards and into the hallway, grabbing a small revolver from the hall closet. She gripped it in both hands, finger on the trigger, and approached the door silently. She turned towards the large window in the living area, ready to run. Trembling, she shouted behind her at the door, feeling her wings instinctively ready to burst from her back.
“Who’s there?!”
“Mataea? Is that you? It’s Vincent.”
Her body immediately relaxed, her shoulders releasing. Mataea pocketed the gun and released the latch eagerly, pulling the door open.
Vincent stood in the bright outer hallway. Towering over her, his bright crimson cloak brought her a sense of great relief. “Thank Minerva... I thought you were some ShinRa goons coming to bag me.”*
He smiled at her. “Sorry to disappoint you,” he said gently.
Mataea grinned and invited him inside, locking the door behind him. She led him to the kitchen area and flicked on the lights, feeling incredibly at ease now. “Can I make you some tea?”
“Oh, yes. Thank you.” Vincent propped himself against the wall next to a window overlooking the city, watching Mataea as she grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. His gaze drifted throughout the apartment, through the kitchen and towards the living area.
“It’s not much,” she called to him as she poured water into a kettle. “... but it’s home.”
He admired some of the exotic masks and wall hangings throughout the rooms. “It seems like you’ve done a lot of travelling.”
Mataea turned and looked at him from across the kitchen. “Yes, well... I’ve lived all over the planet, and my... advantages, allow me to travel at will, wherever I like.” She placed the kettle on the stovetop and turned on the element. “I like being in the country, in small towns... where there’s lots of forests and trees and plants.”
Vincent frowned slightly and crossed his arms across his chest, watching her. “.. So why would you live in a city like Edge?”
She paused, thinking. “It’s not where I like to be, but in a way I feel safer here. There’s lots of people, so I don’t really stick out. Nobody notices me, so that’s good I guess, especially now that Rufus ShinRa’s looking for me...” Her voice trailed off as she placed the teabags in the mugs, her back turned to him. “I didn’t expect you would be here so soon, or at all, even.”
He blinked slowly, turning his gaze out towards the darkened city. “I was worried... I know just how ruthless ShinRa can be, especially when they want something.”
“Your friends are looking for me too,” Mataea blurted. “Did you tell them...”
“No,” Vincent said sternly, looking at her. “They know nothing.” He turned from the window and approached her, stopping in the middle of the room. Mataea turned to him, a look of terrible worry in her eyes. “I know that you are innocent, Mataea; I will not endanger you. I’m going to help you... I have... a history with ShinRa as well. I can’t just walk away.”
Mataea stood there silently, her eyes downcast. “... I know the only thing I’ve ever wanted is to live a normal life; I can’t help but think that I’m preventing you from having that. I mean, I heard all about the Deepground incident, and before that, you-”
Vincent stepped forward again, his voice stern but calming. “What I’ve been through, it’s not important.” He stopped in front of her. “Something more is going on, and I want to find out what it is.”
She forced an unsure smile, feeling guilty for ever having dragged him into this mess. “Thank you,” she said sincerely as the kettle started to cry. Mataea shut off the stove and began to pour the steaming water into their mugs. “I don’t know how to repay you... I’m certain that my tea is not that good.”
Vincent chuckled. “A cup of tea will do just fine.”
__________________________________
Late that night, Tseng sat perched at a computer alone in the Turks’ office, his eyes studying the monitor carefully. Before him, a video was playing. In the shot was a huge glass window that overlooked Edge. Off to the left side was Rufus ShinRa in his silk pyjamas... and to the right was a mystifying woman, with enormous turquoise wings.
Tseng’s throat was dry; the two were arguing about what the C-cells were. Thankfully, as he watched Mataea fly off on the screen, Rufus had kept his trap shut. If she were to find out they were the cells of the Ancients and complete the ritual, his final plan would not be possible. He may never have the energy to overpower her and resurrect himself. Luckily, things were still in motion, and planting that video camera in Rufus’s quarters had paid off rather quickly.
Winding the tape back, he clicked play and watched it again, over and over. He gazed at Mataea, remembering that time she’d blown up the training room and put him in the hospital wing. Looking at her now, he wasn’t impressed; she looked weak, average, not a challenge at all. If only he had been watching the live feed, perhaps he could have had her. She had been within his grasp at the ShinRa building, but he hadn’t expected this so soon.
Feeling himself beginning to become angry, Tseng calmed himself and rewound the tape again. Slowly, he began formulating a plan. With one click of the mouse, he erased the innocent cries of young Mataea, and examined the tape once again without the audio.
Perfect.
Chapter Notes
[ Discuss Chapter 13 on the forum here. ]
* As Tseng is speaking, it's important to remember that Sephiroth is in control of his thoughts. When Tseng speaks/thinks, it's Sephiroth who is doing it for him. Tseng isn't aware of what has happened to him.
*Minerva is the apparent goddess of the Planet. She makes her only appearance (I believe) in Crisis Core. She is in no way related to Mataea, although their names do sound quite similar. You can read about her here if you are interested: http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Minerva_%28Final_Fantasy_VII%29.
* As Tseng is speaking, it's important to remember that Sephiroth is in control of his thoughts. When Tseng speaks/thinks, it's Sephiroth who is doing it for him. Tseng isn't aware of what has happened to him.
*Minerva is the apparent goddess of the Planet. She makes her only appearance (I believe) in Crisis Core. She is in no way related to Mataea, although their names do sound quite similar. You can read about her here if you are interested: http://finalfantasy.wikia.com/wiki/Minerva_%28Final_Fantasy_VII%29.
