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The Phoenix Eye
Chapter 5
Those Who Fight

-- Greater Junon Area, Three Days Later:

“…”

Vincent stared off at the horizon.  The tattered red cloak he wore swayed softly as the gentle breeze caressed his unflinching form, bringing with it the sweet cool aroma of wildflowers mixed with pine bark.  With the morning sun less than an hour away from rising, the eastern peaks of the Junon Mountains burned like fire, and the earliest risers of the woodland creatures were beginning to stir.  Vincent took in all of these things with no outward sign of interest or appreciation.  Motionlessly, he took in all the signs of life around him, giving none himself.  Except for his blood red eyes, smoldering like ever-burning embers behind his cool facade.  The gunman searched for his prey, but the only creature of interest within the limits of his senses was the young looking girl behind him.

“Analysis complete.” Shelke stated.  “This dropping did come from the target.”

Vincent turned to acknowledge the report.  The dainty female figure walked straight and business-like to stand next to the tall gunman.  In appearance, Shelke and Vincent were quite contrasted.  On the left stood Vincent Valentine, former Turk and expert marksman. Everything about the man from his unkempt hair and clothing to the iron set of his jaw radiated animal intelligence and feral power.  His hard muscles were clearly visible beneath the dark leather he wore over his entire body.  And these were not the muscles of an athlete or weight lifter.  These were the muscles of a predator, fast and unpredictable.  Adding more to the air of danger was a large clawed gauntlet covering the man’s left hand and forearm, as well as a heavy set gun holstered loosely at his right hip, the leather soft and broken in from repeated use.

To the man’s right stood Shelke, a small girl little more than half the man’s height.  Shimmering red-brown hair bounced playfully as she walked, the short cut of which forming a perfect half-moon curve out from her cheek bones.  Her attire seemed casual, consisting of a t-shirt, denim jacket, and cut-off jeans.  White socks sloped into almost-new looking hiking boots, which graced the ground without seeming to leave a trail.  The only deviations from the “innocent girl” ensemble was a canvas utility pack she wore over her left hip, and a pair of fighting blades draped carefully at her right.  Shelke stood beside her partner in the body of a nine-year-old girl, though she herself had been “nine years old” for well over a decade.

“How fresh is the trail?” Vincent inquired of his companion as she returned an electronic apparatus to her pack.

“Only a few hours old” the child-like voice responded.  “We can catch it today if we don’t make any mistakes.”

“Good.” he responded simply.  Vincent had the small urge to feel sorry for the girl who would never grow up, physically at least.  But he suppressed the feeling as he always did.  Sometimes he felt guilty for doing this, that perhaps she needed a shoulder to cry on or simply a friendly listening ear.  But there were many other operatives in the WRO who felt sorry for Shelke, and she had never requested to work with them as she did with Vincent.  Perhaps she wanted to forget that she was supposed to be anything else than what she was.  Perhaps she took comfort in the fact that Vincent Valentine, like herself, would never age.

“Let’s go” the girl commanded, and without another word the pair began following the signs of their quarry out of the grasslands and into the forested foothills.  The trail was not hard to track at first.  All the data they had received on the creature indicated that it was an overgrown specimen of the nerosuferoth species.  This strain was an indigenous dog-like animal, whose omnivorous diet usually consisted of berries, parov bark, and carrion.  The species was known, however, to kill live prey in times of little food.  But the particular nerosuferoth they were now tracking was far from the usual.  Somehow the creature had attained a size many times larger than the average full grown adult of its species.  Seemingly not content to dominate its own kind, the aberration had taken it upon itself to terrorize villages and travelers all across the mountain range, evading local hunting parties with uncanny ease.  It had been known to swim upstream when dodging hunters, rather than downstream as most animals did to hide their scent.  It attacked hunting dogs that got too close only to turn and flee again before the men with guns could get a clear shot.  It doubled back on its own trail many times, sometimes crossing the paths the hunters had been on only moments before.

But Vincent and Shelke had advantages in a hunt that any sportsman or hunting dog would envy.  They would succeed where all others had failed.

The morning breeze suddenly shifted, putting the hunters momentarily upwind of their prey.  “In a moment it will catch our scent,” Shelke stated.  “We should quicken our pace.”

The gunman nodded, breaking into a steady lope.  Shelke swung her hip pack around to her back and matched speed with Vincent, her legs pumping in double time to his long strides.  Only a few moments passed before the trail began to turn erratically.  The creature had indeed caught their scent, and it had been very close by at the time.  Vincent turned suddenly to the left, then to the right, and then left again.  Shelke strained her mako green eyes to follow the details that caused her partner to repeatedly change course.  A broken branch, moss scraped from a rock.  Though her augmented vision could catch in an instant the amount of detail a normal man could not absorb in an hour, she still was not as good at this as her friend.

A twig snapped in the distance, barely audible to someone standing right next to it.  But the heads of two hunters turned towards the sound, as they changed their course slightly to match the new direction.  They left the trail, they did not need it.  They could now hear their prey.

“Go.” Shelke told her comrade, her breath calm and even despite their run.  “Head the creature off, I’ll be right behind you.”

Without needing to respond the cloaked figure quickened his pace, pulling away from the girl behind him.  Vincent concentrated inwardly, drawing upon forbidden powers, as the forest darkened around him in response to the negative energy.  As he felt the energies climax inside of him, the dark figure leaped into the air.  With supernatural strength and speed Vincent managed to clear the treetops as dark essence burst from his back.  In an instant, the matter and substance of his cloak and the backs of his clothing merged with the coalescing darkness surrounding him, drawing additional material as needed from the surrounding air, until gray scaly wings had formed stretching from beneath his shoulder blades.

Vincent arrested the blackness inside him.  He could transform into the full demon later if the impending battle required it, but for now, he only needed the wings.  The half transformed hybrid dipped down slightly, sagging against his newly formed demonic wings as the upwards momentum of his initial jump was lost.  A few quick down strokes of the massive wings, however, brought more than enough height and speed.  Vincent opened his ears once again, as the not-quite-so-natural high of his transformation faded from his mind.  Behind him he heard Shelke, following the trail with only slightly more difficulty than he had.  And ahead of him, and a bit to the right, was their target.  He could not just hear her now, but smell her as well.  And yes, the animal they were chasing was female.  Something primal in the demonic aspect could recognize the subtle flavor of the feminine scent.

Vincent zeroed in on his prey, listening to the movements beneath him and anticipating the animal’s next move.  Several times the hunter had to check himself, however, as the fleeing abomination acted counter-intuitively to what Vincent expected.  The chase continued through a few clumps of tight-knit trees and over a small stream before the flying gunman finally caught up to his target.  This nerosuferoth was indeed a very large specimen.  Swiftly and silently the demonic figure descended on the running creature like a vast nightmare-spawned bird of prey.  Instinctively the animal flinched to the side at the last moment, leaving Vincent nothing but hard dirt to break his fall.  Blindingly fast, the hunter spread his wings and flipped in mid-air, bringing his feet beneath him and landing in a run beside the overgrown animal.

The creature recoiled away from him into the forest.  In an instant Vincent’s custom gun Cerberus was in his hand and five shots in rapid succession ripped through the foliage in the direction of the retreating creature.  Some of the bullets found their mark, and Vincent hoped it would be enough to slow the monster down.  The gunman took off running into the forest once again, letting his demonic wings fade from his back so that the added weight would not hinder his speed.  His tattered red cloak instantly returned, flapping in the wind of the chase as if it had never left.

As the hunter approached his quarry a second time he cut to the creature’s right flank, hoping to force it back towards his approaching partner Shelke.  Vincent attacked, expecting the beast to retreat as it had done before.  But this creature had not survived this long by doing what was expected, and at the instant of the hunter’s onslaught the nerosuferoth turned towards its attacker and lowered its head in a bull charge.  Vincent braced his right arm defensively, but kept his left in full attack swing.  The creature slammed her engine block-sized skull full force into Vincent as his clawed gauntlet raked across her left eye and down her muzzle.  The hunter sailed backwards, spiraling through the air before crashing through a young tree, splintering it into thousands of pieces.  Vincent sprang to his feet, ready for the animal’s next attack, but the creature simply ran, directly away from where Shelke was approaching.  The gunman’s eyes narrowed in comprehension.  It had recognized that he was trying to herd it.

A few moments later the creature was again confronted by her determined pursuer.  But this time Vincent did not attack, but feinted.  Dodging back and forth the hunter kept up a flurry of would-be blows, forcing the monster to the defensive.  Many times the creature tried to retaliate, only to find the red-cloaked figure springing nimbly just out of range.  Many times the cornered nerosuferoth dropped her guard and attempted to flee, only to find Vincent’s metal boot slamming into her jaw into the ground or nearby trees, turning her aside from her intended escape.  The nerosuferoth knew she was cornered, but there was nothing she could do about it.

A few moments later Shelke arrived, her calm youthful face showing no signs of fatigue from the long fast chase.  Instantly the two partners fell into opposing circles, mirroring each other’s movements as they spiraled around their quarry.  Shelke was crouched low, making her already petit figure seem that much smaller, her twin fighting knives held in front of her in perfect formation.  To her opposite, Vincent paced upright, with only the slightest hint of a fighting stance, his tall form barely an inch higher than the shoulders of the massive beast before him.  His body was turned to the side presenting a smaller target, the clawed gauntlet of his left had was held defensively in front of him, while his right hand rested delicately on the grip of his gun.  The nerosuferoth growled in frustration, she knew this tactic; she herself had used it many times.  Wolf pack, the method was called; thought the animal could never know the human name for it.  If she turned to attack one of her assailants, her intended victim would simply defend or dodge while the other assailant would attack her from behind.  Her instincts told her to kill the small, weaker looking opponent, and then run for it.  But she had not survived by listening to instinct.

The giant nerosuferoth turned towards the cloaked gunman, her muscles knotting to spring, hoping she could maim or kill the tall hunter before the smaller one could cause her serious harm.  A fatal mistake.  The great beast had not even begun to pounce before Shelke’s twin fighting blades had sliced neatly through both of her hamstrings.  Another instant had not passed before the agile figure darted out from underneath the monster, her blade raking its underbelly, splitting open its abdominal cavity and spilling vital organs down across the cool forest floor, still wet with the morning dew.  The creature collapsed to the ground, curling in on itself in a vain attempt to undo the damage that had already been done.  Vincent took a quick step forward, placed his gun against the side of the creature’s head, and ended its pain and the reign of terror it had caused.

Vincent holstered his gun.  Shelke cleaned her fighting knives before returning them to their sheaths.  She then pulled her utility bag back around to her left hip and pulled from it a small cell phone.  Flicking it open with a quick motion of her wrist she hit a speed dial and held the phone to her ear.

“Shelke reporting: Mission accomplished.”  She closed the phone and returned it to its resting place.  “Well Vincent, shall we start the trek back to civilization?”

Vincent nodded, and began walking in the direction that would lead them out of the forest.  As he passed his small partner she turned and matched his pace beside him.

“How have you been holding up Vincent?” she asked cheerfully.

“Well.” he responded truthfully.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t do anything except the missions Reeve asks you to do.  Why is that?”

“…”  Vincent wanted to be annoyed at her prying, but was relieved that of all the people who ever tried to pry, at least Shelke was honest and direct to the point.

“You know, Vincent,” she chided when he didn’t respond.  “You don’t have to punish yourself anymore for your past sins.”

“How could you…” Vincent cut himself off.  Her words had been unexpected, and had stung like salt in a very old wound.

“You were about to say ‘how could you know about my past sins’ or something like that weren’t you?” Shelke hit the nail on the head.  “You KNOW I have all of her memories downloaded into my cybernetic neural net.  And I have told you a thousand times that she never blamed you for what happened.”

They had stopped walking.  Shelke had planted herself stubbornly in front of Vincent who had turned his head to the side in a vain attempt to hide his emotions behind the cool facade which was now crumbling around him.  The small girl stretched up on her toes to her fullest height and caught the gunman’s chin with the tips of her fingers.  Vincent did not resist as she pulled his face back around.  A lesser man might have flown into a rage at this point, using anger or violence to further mask the hurt this small woman in a child’s body was struggling to uncover.  But Vincent had had much practice controlling emotion, not just his own, but also the emotion of the demons that possessed him.  And so with nothing more than his strength of will the dark man buried his feelings deep once again, pulling the cool cloak of indifference over his festering heart, leaving only his burning crimson eyes as darkened windows to his bleeding soul.

“Vincent” Shelke pleaded.  “You need to forgive yourself.  You were both young, you both made mistakes…”

They had had this argument before.  “Other people’s mistakes do not cause so much death and despair” he stated bluntly.

Shelke almost yelled at him in frustration.  “You can’t blame yourself for that!  No one could have foreseen what would happen!  Don’t you think she would have wanted you to move on eventually?  Do you honestly think she would want you to keep suffering like this?  You need to get on with your life!”

It was at this point in the argument that Vincent usually reverted to his favorite response: not saying anything.  But this time his conscience pricked a little more than it usually did.  Perhaps it was an added measure of sincerity in the woman’s voice.  Perhaps is was their recent mission, watching a powerful creature humbled and killed, its life extinguished, that had reminded him of the value of living.  Perhaps he had ignored his friend for too long, when her only reason for bringing up the subject was for his own well being.

Vincent pulled away from Shelke’s grasp, turning his head to the side once again.  “I…” Vincent stammered.  “…I don’t know how.”

The mako green eyes beneath him stared up long and hard, her face softening as she absorbed this new information.

“Well…” she said after a long silence.  “I think we can help you there.” she grabbed his hand, and began walking again through the forest, giving him no choice but to do the same.  “First we need to get you some friends to just ‘hang out with.’  Some buddies you can talk to over some common interest.  …This might be more challenging than I thought…” Shelke continued, more to herself than to her companion.  “And then I think we should get you a nice girlfriend, someone young and full of energy I think.”

Vincent was instantly uncomfortable at the new turn in the conversation and tried to direct it elsewhere.  “So where do you fit into all of this?” he asked quickly.

“Well,” she began thoughtfully.  “Considering that I have the body of a nine-year-old girl, and the memories of your former girl-friend in addition to my own, I think you should count me as ‘the younger sister who wants to see her older brother get hitched’”

“W-What?”

“You know… tie the knot, get married.  It’s a natural part of ‘getting on with your life’ and besides, your immortal; it WILL happen someday.”

Vincent’s jaw dropped.  He would have stopped dead in his tracks too if Shelke had not already been pulling him along by his hand.  She didn’t notice.  A sudden familiar melody interrupted both of them, however, and Shelke retrieved her trumpeting cell phone from her pack.

“Hello?  …Yes Vincent is here with me. …We can be there in a few hours, but why… Oh.  …Priority one then?  …Do we know where he is? …Of course.  Forty five minutes then.  See you in Nebelhiem.”

Vincent knew they were in for a run.  Forty five minutes to Nebelhiem meant they needed to catch a helicopter in Junon within twenty minutes.  Twenty minutes to Junon meant a very very hard run.  Shelke did not need to tell Vincent anything, he had heard enough.  Their previous conversation momentarily forgotten, Vincent swept up the small girl into his arms and began a full tilt sprint towards Junon.  Gathering the darkness once again, he called on a different demonic essence than he had previously.  Vincent’s metal boots and the lower part of his pants began to melt back into a dark purple fur.  The bones of his foot extended as his heal shrank, until he was running only on the balls of his feet, which were quickly forming pads.  His newly grown claws dug into the soft earth, flinging patches of mud and sod behind him.  His already blinding speed increased further still as the muscles of his legs optimized themselves into a more efficient lupine form.

Vincent did not need to be told that this was a matter of considerable urgency.  Only president Reeve Tsuesti of the WRO could issue a priority one alert.

--------------------

-- Nebelhiem, 45 minutes later:

The sounds of the helicopter faded in the distance as the pilot shut down the engine, but those sounds were still clearly audible as Vincent and Shelke entered the familiar house.  Many of their old friends waited to greet the pair as the entered what so closely resembled Tifa’s childhood home.  It was not really the same house, of course, despite the uncanny resemblance.  The wood floor was varnished the same color.  A duplicate ornately woven rug graced the center of the main room in exactly the same spot as another rug had done to the house Tifa grew up in.  Even the furnishings and embellishments had been reproduced with the utmost care and precision so that only a true native would notice anything at all missing.

Tifa’s actual old home had of course been destroyed in the fire caused by the then renegade General Sephiroth.  The house they now stood in was a replica, built by the Shinra in a vain attempt to hide the ugly truth about their greatest war hero general.  Most of Nebelhiem had, in fact, been restored in this exact same manner.  Shinra had even gone through the effort of hiring actors to pretend to be the local townspeople, so that no one would know how many people had died and how many lives had been ruined at the murderous hands of Sephiroth.  The plan had even worked for a few years, until that very same Sephiroth reemerged under the direction of Jenova, and almost destroyed the world.

But now Shinra was all but gone, and everyone knew the truth about Sephiroth, and Nebelhiem, and everything else.  The former actors who were now simply townspeople had offered the house to Tifa, as a sort of repayment for what she had lost.  And while she had accepted it gracefully, it had never really felt like home.

It was into this house that Vincent and Shelke now strode.  Waiting for them were Cloud and Tifa, sitting next to each other on a couch and holding hands, the bond of emotion between them radiating in a way that only committed couples could produce; passing more affection between them in the simple token of holding hands than a newfound love affair could have managed in the most intimate embrace.  Further into the room a group of chairs had been commandeered from the kitchen, and stood scattered in front of an old-looking cabinet.  Seated in the chairs were their friends Reeve Tsuesti, president of the WRO; Cid Highwind, expert pilot and recently returned astronaut, (a lit cigarette in his mouth despite Tifa’s protests and Barret Wallace, Owner of the soon to be six-year-old Corel Oil and Gas Company (and though no one present yet knew it, also soon to be mayor of Corel.)

“Where are Yuffie and Nanaki?” Vincent asked, recognizing the gaps in the circle.

“Nanaki is up in the mountains trying to catch the remnants scent, while Yuffie volunteered to stay behind.” Cloud began to explain.  “Since the suspect has openly threatened me we thought it best to leave someone on watch for our children.”

“Wait…” Barret interrupted.  “You mean that remnant you were explaining about might be after your kids?  What about my daughter Marlene?”

“She’s with Yuffie and our children at Elmyra Gainesboro’s house,” Tifa related calmly to the large man.  “You remember her right?”

Barret grumbled an unintelligible response.  He could not readily forget the woman who had helped watch over Marlene so much while he had been fighting in the war against Jenova.

Reeve then cut in his own explanation.  “Besides, we cannot protect all the innocent bystanders this man might decide to hurt, or even everyone we know.  We need to find him and put him behind bars.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt…” Vincent began in his low quiet voice.  “But I have not yet been briefed on the nature of this situation.”

“Oh.  Sorry Vinny.” Cid said as he stood and pulled two chairs around.  “Here.  You two take a seat and we’ll get you up to speed in no time.”

Shelke and Vincent sat and listened, as Reeve did most the explaining, with Tifa or Cloud occasionally expounding upon the more important details.  A man had kidnapped a young boy a few days back and locked him in the local mako reactor deep in the mountains north of town.  Intriguing was the fact that the boy’s description of his kidnapper matched that of Samuru, already a wanted suspect in the murder of Professor Stian the week before in Wutai.  Even more interesting, however, was the young boy’s description of how his kidnapper’s eyes seemed to be changing in splotches from brown to green, and how the roots of his hair had turned silver.  Green eyes and silver hair were classic trademarks of remnants, and they had already found remnant tissue connected to the murder in Wutai.

Vincent sighed.  “Will the ghost of Jenova never die?  Or will her “remnants” keep plaguing us for generations to come?”

Everyone in the room lowered their eyes to the ground.  This was the thought they had all been thinking.  Another remnant.  One more of the mindless followers of the parasite Jenova and her misbegotten right hand Sephiroth.

Finally Reeve spoke up.  “I want to keep everyone together if we can.  If we need to split up, stay in contact.  Also I am going to make a good deal of resources available.  If we need anything from equipment to transportation, or even a full military assault, I will have it ready at a moments notice.  This is, after all, a large part of why I formed the World Regenesis Organization.  I want to take this remnant out as quickly as possible; we can’t afford another “Kadaj” incident.”

“Where should we start?” Shelke asked optimistically.

“Unless Nanaki manages to pull a scent trail out of the mountains, I think we should go to Edge.  Cloud lives there, and the remnant has already threatened him.  Also, Edge is now the closest civilization to Midgar, a long standing favored location for the followers of Jenova.  Since the city is now mostly abandoned, it makes an ideal place for a fugitive to hide out.  What do you think?”  Reeve said turning to Cid and Barret; he knew that Cloud and Tifa would have no complaint about being closer to their children.

“That sounds alright.” Cid said stretching against the back of his chair.  “I’ll have to call the misses and tell her where I’ll be though.”  Barret did not say anything at first so Reeve glanced towards Shelke and Vincent.  The first one smiled, while the taller one simply nodded.  Finally Barret spoke up.

“Well… I’d been meanin’ to visit Marlene soon anyway.” the giant man grumbled, making it obvious to everyone in the room that he hadn’t really been planning anything.

;) (Wink) — Description
The Phoenix Eye
Chapter 5
Those Who Fight

-- Greater Junon Area, Three Days Later:

“…”

Vincent stared off at the horizon.  The tattered red cloak he wore swayed softly as the gentle breeze caressed his unflinching form, bringing with it the sweet cool aroma of wildflowers mixed with pine bark.  With the morning sun less than an hour away from rising, the eastern peaks of the Junon Mountains burned like fire, and the earliest risers of the woodland creatures were beginning to stir.  Vincent took in all of these things with no outward sign of interest or appreciation.  Motionlessly, he took in all the signs of life around him, giving none himself.  Except for his blood red eyes, smoldering like ever-burning embers behind his cool facade.  The gunman searched for his prey, but the only creature of interest within the limits of his senses was the young looking girl behind him.

“Analysis complete.” Shelke stated.  “This dropping did come from the target.”

Vincent turned to acknowledge the report.  The dainty female figure walked straight and business-like to stand next to the tall gunman.  In appearance, Shelke and Vincent were quite contrasted.  On the left stood Vincent Valentine, former Turk and expert marksman. Everything about the man from his unkempt hair and clothing to the iron set of his jaw radiated animal intelligence and feral power.  His hard muscles were clearly visible beneath the dark leather he wore over his entire body.  And these were not the muscles of an athlete or weight lifter.  These were the muscles of a predator, fast and unpredictable.  Adding more to the air of danger was a large clawed gauntlet covering the man’s left hand and forearm, as well as a heavy set gun holstered loosely at his right hip, the leather soft and broken in from repeated use.

To the man’s right stood Shelke, a small girl little more than half the man’s height.  Shimmering red-brown hair bounced playfully as she walked, the short cut of which forming a perfect half-moon curve out from her cheek bones.  Her attire seemed casual, consisting of a t-shirt, denim jacket, and cut-off jeans.  White socks sloped into almost-new looking hiking boots, which graced the ground without seeming to leave a trail.  The only deviations from the “innocent girl” ensemble was a canvas utility pack she wore over her left hip, and a pair of fighting blades draped carefully at her right.  Shelke stood beside her partner in the body of a nine-year-old girl, though she herself had been “nine years old” for well over a decade.

“How fresh is the trail?” Vincent inquired of his companion as she returned an electronic apparatus to her pack.

“Only a few hours old” the child-like voice responded.  “We can catch it today if we don’t make any mistakes.”

“Good.” he responded simply.  Vincent had the small urge to feel sorry for the girl who would never grow up, physically at least.  But he suppressed the feeling as he always did.  Sometimes he felt guilty for doing this, that perhaps she needed a shoulder to cry on or simply a friendly listening ear.  But there were many other operatives in the WRO who felt sorry for Shelke, and she had never requested to work with them as she did with Vincent.  Perhaps she wanted to forget that she was supposed to be anything else than what she was.  Perhaps she took comfort in the fact that Vincent Valentine, like herself, would never age.

“Let’s go” the girl commanded, and without another word the pair began following the signs of their quarry out of the grasslands and into the forested foothills.  The trail was not hard to track at first.  All the data they had received on the creature indicated that it was an overgrown specimen of the nerosuferoth species.  This strain was an indigenous dog-like animal, whose omnivorous diet usually consisted of berries, parov bark, and carrion.  The species was known, however, to kill live prey in times of little food.  But the particular nerosuferoth they were now tracking was far from the usual.  Somehow the creature had attained a size many times larger than the average full grown adult of its species.  Seemingly not content to dominate its own kind, the aberration had taken it upon itself to terrorize villages and travelers all across the mountain range, evading local hunting parties with uncanny ease.  It had been known to swim upstream when dodging hunters, rather than downstream as most animals did to hide their scent.  It attacked hunting dogs that got too close only to turn and flee again before the men with guns could get a clear shot.  It doubled back on its own trail many times, sometimes crossing the paths the hunters had been on only moments before.

But Vincent and Shelke had advantages in a hunt that any sportsman or hunting dog would envy.  They would succeed where all others had failed.

The morning breeze suddenly shifted, putting the hunters momentarily upwind of their prey.  “In a moment it will catch our scent,” Shelke stated.  “We should quicken our pace.”

The gunman nodded, breaking into a steady lope.  Shelke swung her hip pack around to her back and matched speed with Vincent, her legs pumping in double time to his long strides.  Only a few moments passed before the trail began to turn erratically.  The creature had indeed caught their scent, and it had been very close by at the time.  Vincent turned suddenly to the left, then to the right, and then left again.  Shelke strained her mako green eyes to follow the details that caused her partner to repeatedly change course.  A broken branch, moss scraped from a rock.  Though her augmented vision could catch in an instant the amount of detail a normal man could not absorb in an hour, she still was not as good at this as her friend.

A twig snapped in the distance, barely audible to someone standing right next to it.  But the heads of two hunters turned towards the sound, as they changed their course slightly to match the new direction.  They left the trail, they did not need it.  They could now hear their prey.

“Go.” Shelke told her comrade, her breath calm and even despite their run.  “Head the creature off, I’ll be right behind you.”

Without needing to respond the cloaked figure quickened his pace, pulling away from the girl behind him.  Vincent concentrated inwardly, drawing upon forbidden powers, as the forest darkened around him in response to the negative energy.  As he felt the energies climax inside of him, the dark figure leaped into the air.  With supernatural strength and speed Vincent managed to clear the treetops as dark essence burst from his back.  In an instant, the matter and substance of his cloak and the backs of his clothing merged with the coalescing darkness surrounding him, drawing additional material as needed from the surrounding air, until gray scaly wings had formed stretching from beneath his shoulder blades.

Vincent arrested the blackness inside him.  He could transform into the full demon later if the impending battle required it, but for now, he only needed the wings.  The half transformed hybrid dipped down slightly, sagging against his newly formed demonic wings as the upwards momentum of his initial jump was lost.  A few quick down strokes of the massive wings, however, brought more than enough height and speed.  Vincent opened his ears once again, as the not-quite-so-natural high of his transformation faded from his mind.  Behind him he heard Shelke, following the trail with only slightly more difficulty than he had.  And ahead of him, and a bit to the right, was their target.  He could not just hear her now, but smell her as well.  And yes, the animal they were chasing was female.  Something primal in the demonic aspect could recognize the subtle flavor of the feminine scent.

Vincent zeroed in on his prey, listening to the movements beneath him and anticipating the animal’s next move.  Several times the hunter had to check himself, however, as the fleeing abomination acted counter-intuitively to what Vincent expected.  The chase continued through a few clumps of tight-knit trees and over a small stream before the flying gunman finally caught up to his target.  This nerosuferoth was indeed a very large specimen.  Swiftly and silently the demonic figure descended on the running creature like a vast nightmare-spawned bird of prey.  Instinctively the animal flinched to the side at the last moment, leaving Vincent nothing but hard dirt to break his fall.  Blindingly fast, the hunter spread his wings and flipped in mid-air, bringing his feet beneath him and landing in a run beside the overgrown animal.

The creature recoiled away from him into the forest.  In an instant Vincent’s custom gun Cerberus was in his hand and five shots in rapid succession ripped through the foliage in the direction of the retreating creature.  Some of the bullets found their mark, and Vincent hoped it would be enough to slow the monster down.  The gunman took off running into the forest once again, letting his demonic wings fade from his back so that the added weight would not hinder his speed.  His tattered red cloak instantly returned, flapping in the wind of the chase as if it had never left.

As the hunter approached his quarry a second time he cut to the creature’s right flank, hoping to force it back towards his approaching partner Shelke.  Vincent attacked, expecting the beast to retreat as it had done before.  But this creature had not survived this long by doing what was expected, and at the instant of the hunter’s onslaught the nerosuferoth turned towards its attacker and lowered its head in a bull charge.  Vincent braced his right arm defensively, but kept his left in full attack swing.  The creature slammed her engine block-sized skull full force into Vincent as his clawed gauntlet raked across her left eye and down her muzzle.  The hunter sailed backwards, spiraling through the air before crashing through a young tree, splintering it into thousands of pieces.  Vincent sprang to his feet, ready for the animal’s next attack, but the creature simply ran, directly away from where Shelke was approaching.  The gunman’s eyes narrowed in comprehension.  It had recognized that he was trying to herd it.

A few moments later the creature was again confronted by her determined pursuer.  But this time Vincent did not attack, but feinted.  Dodging back and forth the hunter kept up a flurry of would-be blows, forcing the monster to the defensive.  Many times the creature tried to retaliate, only to find the red-cloaked figure springing nimbly just out of range.  Many times the cornered nerosuferoth dropped her guard and attempted to flee, only to find Vincent’s metal boot slamming into her jaw into the ground or nearby trees, turning her aside from her intended escape.  The nerosuferoth knew she was cornered, but there was nothing she could do about it.

A few moments later Shelke arrived, her calm youthful face showing no signs of fatigue from the long fast chase.  Instantly the two partners fell into opposing circles, mirroring each other’s movements as they spiraled around their quarry.  Shelke was crouched low, making her already petit figure seem that much smaller, her twin fighting knives held in front of her in perfect formation.  To her opposite, Vincent paced upright, with only the slightest hint of a fighting stance, his tall form barely an inch higher than the shoulders of the massive beast before him.  His body was turned to the side presenting a smaller target, the clawed gauntlet of his left had was held defensively in front of him, while his right hand rested delicately on the grip of his gun.  The nerosuferoth growled in frustration, she knew this tactic; she herself had used it many times.  Wolf pack, the method was called; thought the animal could never know the human name for it.  If she turned to attack one of her assailants, her intended victim would simply defend or dodge while the other assailant would attack her from behind.  Her instincts told her to kill the small, weaker looking opponent, and then run for it.  But she had not survived by listening to instinct.

The giant nerosuferoth turned towards the cloaked gunman, her muscles knotting to spring, hoping she could maim or kill the tall hunter before the smaller one could cause her serious harm.  A fatal mistake.  The great beast had not even begun to pounce before Shelke’s twin fighting blades had sliced neatly through both of her hamstrings.  Another instant had not passed before the agile figure darted out from underneath the monster, her blade raking its underbelly, splitting open its abdominal cavity and spilling vital organs down across the cool forest floor, still wet with the morning dew.  The creature collapsed to the ground, curling in on itself in a vain attempt to undo the damage that had already been done.  Vincent took a quick step forward, placed his gun against the side of the creature’s head, and ended its pain and the reign of terror it had caused.

Vincent holstered his gun.  Shelke cleaned her fighting knives before returning them to their sheaths.  She then pulled her utility bag back around to her left hip and pulled from it a small cell phone.  Flicking it open with a quick motion of her wrist she hit a speed dial and held the phone to her ear.

“Shelke reporting: Mission accomplished.”  She closed the phone and returned it to its resting place.  “Well Vincent, shall we start the trek back to civilization?”

Vincent nodded, and began walking in the direction that would lead them out of the forest.  As he passed his small partner she turned and matched his pace beside him.

“How have you been holding up Vincent?” she asked cheerfully.

“Well.” he responded truthfully.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t do anything except the missions Reeve asks you to do.  Why is that?”

“…”  Vincent wanted to be annoyed at her prying, but was relieved that of all the people who ever tried to pry, at least Shelke was honest and direct to the point.

“You know, Vincent,” she chided when he didn’t respond.  “You don’t have to punish yourself anymore for your past sins.”

“How could you…” Vincent cut himself off.  Her words had been unexpected, and had stung like salt in a very old wound.

“You were about to say ‘how could you know about my past sins’ or something like that weren’t you?” Shelke hit the nail on the head.  “You KNOW I have all of her memories downloaded into my cybernetic neural net.  And I have told you a thousand times that she never blamed you for what happened.”

They had stopped walking.  Shelke had planted herself stubbornly in front of Vincent who had turned his head to the side in a vain attempt to hide his emotions behind the cool facade which was now crumbling around him.  The small girl stretched up on her toes to her fullest height and caught the gunman’s chin with the tips of her fingers.  Vincent did not resist as she pulled his face back around.  A lesser man might have flown into a rage at this point, using anger or violence to further mask the hurt this small woman in a child’s body was struggling to uncover.  But Vincent had had much practice controlling emotion, not just his own, but also the emotion of the demons that possessed him.  And so with nothing more than his strength of will the dark man buried his feelings deep once again, pulling the cool cloak of indifference over his festering heart, leaving only his burning crimson eyes as darkened windows to his bleeding soul.

“Vincent” Shelke pleaded.  “You need to forgive yourself.  You were both young, you both made mistakes…”

They had had this argument before.  “Other people’s mistakes do not cause so much death and despair” he stated bluntly.

Shelke almost yelled at him in frustration.  “You can’t blame yourself for that!  No one could have foreseen what would happen!  Don’t you think she would have wanted you to move on eventually?  Do you honestly think she would want you to keep suffering like this?  You need to get on with your life!”

It was at this point in the argument that Vincent usually reverted to his favorite response: not saying anything.  But this time his conscience pricked a little more than it usually did.  Perhaps it was an added measure of sincerity in the woman’s voice.  Perhaps is was their recent mission, watching a powerful creature humbled and killed, its life extinguished, that had reminded him of the value of living.  Perhaps he had ignored his friend for too long, when her only reason for bringing up the subject was for his own well being.

Vincent pulled away from Shelke’s grasp, turning his head to the side once again.  “I…” Vincent stammered.  “…I don’t know how.”

The mako green eyes beneath him stared up long and hard, her face softening as she absorbed this new information.

“Well…” she said after a long silence.  “I think we can help you there.” she grabbed his hand, and began walking again through the forest, giving him no choice but to do the same.  “First we need to get you some friends to just ‘hang out with.’  Some buddies you can talk to over some common interest.  …This might be more challenging than I thought…” Shelke continued, more to herself than to her companion.  “And then I think we should get you a nice girlfriend, someone young and full of energy I think.”

Vincent was instantly uncomfortable at the new turn in the conversation and tried to direct it elsewhere.  “So where do you fit into all of this?” he asked quickly.

“Well,” she began thoughtfully.  “Considering that I have the body of a nine-year-old girl, and the memories of your former girl-friend in addition to my own, I think you should count me as ‘the younger sister who wants to see her older brother get hitched’”

“W-What?”

“You know… tie the knot, get married.  It’s a natural part of ‘getting on with your life’ and besides, your immortal; it WILL happen someday.”

Vincent’s jaw dropped.  He would have stopped dead in his tracks too if Shelke had not already been pulling him along by his hand.  She didn’t notice.  A sudden familiar melody interrupted both of them, however, and Shelke retrieved her trumpeting cell phone from her pack.

“Hello?  …Yes Vincent is here with me. …We can be there in a few hours, but why… Oh.  …Priority one then?  …Do we know where he is? …Of course.  Forty five minutes then.  See you in Nebelhiem.”

Vincent knew they were in for a run.  Forty five minutes to Nebelhiem meant they needed to catch a helicopter in Junon within twenty minutes.  Twenty minutes to Junon meant a very very hard run.  Shelke did not need to tell Vincent anything, he had heard enough.  Their previous conversation momentarily forgotten, Vincent swept up the small girl into his arms and began a full tilt sprint towards Junon.  Gathering the darkness once again, he called on a different demonic essence than he had previously.  Vincent’s metal boots and the lower part of his pants began to melt back into a dark purple fur.  The bones of his foot extended as his heal shrank, until he was running only on the balls of his feet, which were quickly forming pads.  His newly grown claws dug into the soft earth, flinging patches of mud and sod behind him.  His already blinding speed increased further still as the muscles of his legs optimized themselves into a more efficient lupine form.

Vincent did not need to be told that this was a matter of considerable urgency.  Only president Reeve Tsuesti of the WRO could issue a priority one alert.

--------------------

-- Nebelhiem, 45 minutes later:

The sounds of the helicopter faded in the distance as the pilot shut down the engine, but those sounds were still clearly audible as Vincent and Shelke entered the familiar house.  Many of their old friends waited to greet the pair as the entered what so closely resembled Tifa’s childhood home.  It was not really the same house, of course, despite the uncanny resemblance.  The wood floor was varnished the same color.  A duplicate ornately woven rug graced the center of the main room in exactly the same spot as another rug had done to the house Tifa grew up in.  Even the furnishings and embellishments had been reproduced with the utmost care and precision so that only a true native would notice anything at all missing.

Tifa’s actual old home had of course been destroyed in the fire caused by the then renegade General Sephiroth.  The house they now stood in was a replica, built by the Shinra in a vain attempt to hide the ugly truth about their greatest war hero general.  Most of Nebelhiem had, in fact, been restored in this exact same manner.  Shinra had even gone through the effort of hiring actors to pretend to be the local townspeople, so that no one would know how many people had died and how many lives had been ruined at the murderous hands of Sephiroth.  The plan had even worked for a few years, until that very same Sephiroth reemerged under the direction of Jenova, and almost destroyed the world.

But now Shinra was all but gone, and everyone knew the truth about Sephiroth, and Nebelhiem, and everything else.  The former actors who were now simply townspeople had offered the house to Tifa, as a sort of repayment for what she had lost.  And while she had accepted it gracefully, it had never really felt like home.

It was into this house that Vincent and Shelke now strode.  Waiting for them were Cloud and Tifa, sitting next to each other on a couch and holding hands, the bond of emotion between them radiating in a way that only committed couples could produce; passing more affection between them in the simple token of holding hands than a newfound love affair could have managed in the most intimate embrace.  Further into the room a group of chairs had been commandeered from the kitchen, and stood scattered in front of an old-looking cabinet.  Seated in the chairs were their friends Reeve Tsuesti, president of the WRO; Cid Highwind, expert pilot and recently returned astronaut, (a lit cigarette in his mouth despite Tifa’s protests and Barret Wallace, Owner of the soon to be six-year-old Corel Oil and Gas Company (and though no one present yet knew it, also soon to be mayor of Corel.)

“Where are Yuffie and Nanaki?” Vincent asked, recognizing the gaps in the circle.

“Nanaki is up in the mountains trying to catch the remnants scent, while Yuffie volunteered to stay behind.” Cloud began to explain.  “Since the suspect has openly threatened me we thought it best to leave someone on watch for our children.”

“Wait…” Barret interrupted.  “You mean that remnant you were explaining about might be after your kids?  What about my daughter Marlene?”

“She’s with Yuffie and our children at Elmyra Gainesboro’s house,” Tifa related calmly to the large man.  “You remember her right?”

Barret grumbled an unintelligible response.  He could not readily forget the woman who had helped watch over Marlene so much while he had been fighting in the war against Jenova.

Reeve then cut in his own explanation.  “Besides, we cannot protect all the innocent bystanders this man might decide to hurt, or even everyone we know.  We need to find him and put him behind bars.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt…” Vincent began in his low quiet voice.  “But I have not yet been briefed on the nature of this situation.”

“Oh.  Sorry Vinny.” Cid said as he stood and pulled two chairs around.  “Here.  You two take a seat and we’ll get you up to speed in no time.”

Shelke and Vincent sat and listened, as Reeve did most the explaining, with Tifa or Cloud occasionally expounding upon the more important details.  A man had kidnapped a young boy a few days back and locked him in the local mako reactor deep in the mountains north of town.  Intriguing was the fact that the boy’s description of his kidnapper matched that of Samuru, already a wanted suspect in the murder of Professor Stian the week before in Wutai.  Even more interesting, however, was the young boy’s description of how his kidnapper’s eyes seemed to be changing in splotches from brown to green, and how the roots of his hair had turned silver.  Green eyes and silver hair were classic trademarks of remnants, and they had already found remnant tissue connected to the murder in Wutai.

Vincent sighed.  “Will the ghost of Jenova never die?  Or will her “remnants” keep plaguing us for generations to come?”

Everyone in the room lowered their eyes to the ground.  This was the thought they had all been thinking.  Another remnant.  One more of the mindless followers of the parasite Jenova and her misbegotten right hand Sephiroth.

Finally Reeve spoke up.  “I want to keep everyone together if we can.  If we need to split up, stay in contact.  Also I am going to make a good deal of resources available.  If we need anything from equipment to transportation, or even a full military assault, I will have it ready at a moments notice.  This is, after all, a large part of why I formed the World Regenesis Organization.  I want to take this remnant out as quickly as possible; we can’t afford another “Kadaj” incident.”

“Where should we start?” Shelke asked optimistically.

“Unless Nanaki manages to pull a scent trail out of the mountains, I think we should go to Edge.  Cloud lives there, and the remnant has already threatened him.  Also, Edge is now the closest civilization to Midgar, a long standing favored location for the followers of Jenova.  Since the city is now mostly abandoned, it makes an ideal place for a fugitive to hide out.  What do you think?”  Reeve said turning to Cid and Barret; he knew that Cloud and Tifa would have no complaint about being closer to their children.

“That sounds alright.” Cid said stretching against the back of his chair.  “I’ll have to call the misses and tell her where I’ll be though.”  Barret did not say anything at first so Reeve glanced towards Shelke and Vincent.  The first one smiled, while the taller one simply nodded.  Finally Barret spoke up.

“Well… I’d been meanin’ to visit Marlene soon anyway.” the giant man grumbled, making it obvious to everyone in the room that he hadn’t really been planning anything.