Rufus leaned over the counter, frowning thoughtfully at the array of materia laid out before him. "Hmm... this is all the magic you have?"

"Yes, sir." The boy looked young, eighteen at the most, but cast an eye over Rufus which suggested he had been in the materia business a good while. The kind of eye Rufus trusted least. But there was no time for heckling. "Whatcha see is what we have."

"Alright. Do you have any *Summon* materia? Any at all?"

"No, sir. Was there somethin' special you were looking for?" He paused and bent slightly, not taking his eyes off of Rufus. When he straightened, he had picked up a catalog, an inch thick, with the words, “Materia Collector” scrawled on the cover in thick yellow cursive. "If you were willing to wait a few weeks, I could have some shipped... but it'll cost ya extra."

"Hmm..." Rufus pensively cupped his chin in one hand. "Is there a way I could find a certain *type* of Summon?"

"Maybe." The clerk reached out his arm and pulled the display of materia from the counter in one deft movement, putting it carefully back on the shelf behind him. "Depends. Check the index."

Rufus flipped through the catalog distastefully. "Oh my."

"Yeah. There's a lot."

"Expensive... for Materia?"

"Naw. This is cheap stuff. You wait till you get into the real rare stuff. Knights of the Round - phew! Get some 'a that, you're rich for life!"

"Yes. I've already been there, thanks," Rufus muttered under his breath. "Look," he leveled frankly, "you've been in the business a while, haven't you?"

"Yeah." The boy's face grew wary. "So?"

"So you've dealt with a lot of materia, right?"

"Right."

"Of course." Rufus flashed a disarming smile, years and years of diplomacy reeking in his grin. "You've got a good memory of different materia, then, right? Even rare types?"

"Maybe."

"In fact, you're probably a veritable expert." Rufus cocked an eyebrow, never taking the smile from his face. "Hmm?"

"Whaddya want?"

"You wouldn't have ever run across something called... oh, 'Jenova Summon' materia, would you?" Rufus folded his hands on the countertop and gave it his best 'you're-the-expert' look. "Since you've probably run across a lot of different... er, species."

"Nope. Never. Jenova? You said Jenova?" The boy frowned. "Why would you want anything to do with Jenova?"

"Oh, nothing. It's alright." Rufus straightened and flicked back his hair. "You've never even *heard* of it?"

"Man, there ain't no such thing." The boy crossed his arms and shook his head adamantly. "Don't know where you got that name, but if I ain't heard of it, it ain't existing."

"Of course. You're the expert." Rufus gave him a conciliatory shrug and turned, sauntering out of the shop. "Good day, then."

"Wait, aintcha gonna-" the boy started, but trailed off, knowing full well what the answer would be. "Cheap kid," he muttered to himself, turning to inspect the materia he had laid out on the shelf. "Crazy."

Rufus's smile faded as soon as he turned away, molding into a pensive frown. Jenova summon. No Jenova summon. Of course not. Who would summon Jenova? *Why* would someone summon Jenova? He should have known that. So what did this all mean?

He stepped out into the crimson sunlight of the canyon, breathing in the dusty air. Everything got dusty here, his clothes, his hair, his skin. He was starting to miss his office in Midgar, the air-conditioning going full-blast, the lights winking below as its citizens went on with their lives, oblivious to the Shinra executives watching from above. Or his office in Junon, with its beautiful view of the ocean. In the summer, the sun would set in the direct center of the window, glimmering like a ruby on the horizon. Everything was so ordered back then, business luncheons and executive decisions, those dull board meetings...

But that was gone now. No sense in wasting time thinking about it. All that would come later, he told himself. Later. As for now, he kept walking down the steps, unsure of where he was going, but too bored to stay in one place. He was restless. He sensed something wrong. Like he had to hurry. But where?

Why did he feel as though something were coming for him? What reason was there to hurry? It was vague apprehension, without definition, telling him to run. Telling him not to wait. Go. But where would he go?

/Perhaps,/ he thought ruefully, rubbing a temple, /I need to get out of the heat./ There was something wrong; he couldn't name it, but it was there. Intangible and ominous, closer and closer every second. /I'm starting to imagine things./ He closed his eyes and paused a minute to take a breath, before moving off towards the Cosmo Candle, mind racing, casting worried glances over his shoulder.

Bugah found him as he was eating lunch, appearing as if out of nowhere and taking the vacant seat opposite him. A knowing smile was on his face and he tapped the table absently with his walking stick, acting as excited as a ten-year old with a secret he couldn't wait to tell. Rufus didn't even blink, just continued delicately picking the onions out of his salad, waiting for the Elder to make the first move.

"So, Mr Rufus, I hear you had a bit of an ordeal this morning." The Elder's voice was bright, as though he reveled in the fact. It annoyed Rufus to no end.

"Yes, somewhat," he sniffed, not looking up.

Bugah might have expected him to say more, for he waited patiently for Rufus to continue upon the line of thought. But the boy adamantly persisted in his silence, finding much more interest in eating his salad. Bugah watched with a blank expression on his face, somewhat dismayed in the fact that Rufus wasn't open for sharing. They sat in silence, the only sound the noise of conversation from tables behind them.

After a long while, when Rufus had grown a bit irritated in having his lunch watched over so closely, he cast one eye up at the Elder and muttered, "Well?"

"Well, what? I'm waiting for you to tell me."

"What do you want to hear?"

"This trouble of yours. You were shaken up by something in the hologram, according to your friend, Mr Reeve." Bugah folded his hands on the table and gave Rufus a coaxing shrug. "This could be a clue, if my hunch is correct."

"You mean the Huge Materia?" Rufus deadpanned, sliding a leaf of lettuce around his plate. "Yes, that upset me quite a bit. It was stolen a while ago, and it's quite valuable."

The Elder paused. "Huge Ma-... What? No, not that. The other thing. The cry of the Planet."

Rufus put down his fork and gave Bugah a charming smile, flicking back his bangs. "Why didn't you say so, Elder?"

He had made his point. Bugah nodded slowly, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Alright, Mr Rufus. Have it your way. Did the cry of the Planet really hurt you so much?"

"Would I be lying?" Rufus shrugged and leaned back in his chair, crossing both arms over his chest. "I don't know what it was, but it was unbearable. Tell me, Elder, did you know it would do that?"

"No, I did not." Bugah grinned to himself, stroking his chin. "Though it helps immensely." He leaned back as well, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "You've heard it before, have you not? Reeve seemed to think so."

"Yes... But..." Rufus sighed and frowned to himself, closing his eyes. "Not like that. Only..." He shook his head. "I'm not sure. There was this one thing..."

Bugah's eyes were glittering sharply. "Go on."

"When I saw my eyes, back in Kalm... When I found out I had Mako eyes. I panicked, and in my weakened state, collapsed. But... I heard scr-... Oh, never mind. I don't-" He shook his head, confused, trying to sort out the rushing in his brain. "I think I heard the Planet cry out then. But... I can't be sure. I was delirious at the time."

"Hmm. Delirious, eh? What do you remember from that?"

Rufus laughed mirthlessly. "What am I *supposed* to remember? Delirium?"

"Generally, I mean."

"Well..." Rufus tipped his head back. "Phew. Something about the Planet. Like I had... had to redeem myself. Yes, that was it. I had to redeem myself to the Planet. I was... Ha, ha."

"It was funny?"

"I was talking to the Planet." Had Rufus not been so dignified a figure, one would have said he giggled. "Or something that wasn't the Planet... but it was close. I was delirious, like I said."

"Oh, really." Bugah leaned forwards excitedly. "What did it say?"

"Ha, ha... It was, heh, giving me orders." He shook his head dismissively. "This is insane, Bugah. It means nothing, most likely. I mean, I was weak and my mind was unstable. It told me I had... I had to do something and redeem myself."

The Elder pronounced his words slowly. "Do what?"

Rufus looked up, startled by the intensity shining in the old man's eyes. Immediately, his mind flew to the boy in the materia shop, the wary eyes asking him, //Jenova? Why would you want anything to do with Jenova? ... If I ain't heard of it, it ain't existing.// "I... I don't remember," he lied.

"Hmm." Bugah nodded slowly. "I have to research." And, quicker than Rufus would have thought possible for the Elder, he had gotten up and left Rufus alone with the remains of his lunch. The others in the Candle shot him questioning looks, but, upon recognizing him as the former President of Shinra, left him alone. He was able to finish his lunch in peace, but not at rest.

Nothing ever could have prepared Yuffie for the shock, when, upon bursting through the door of the Turtle's Paradise, she ran smack into what felt like a brick wall.

But it wasn't a brick wall; it was a tall, bald man, perhaps the most solid person she had ever been so clumsy as to run into. He was so built, she hardly made a dent in his crisp blue suit. He barely turned his head to look at her, his eyes hidden from her behind a pair of black sunglasses. As it was, she was on her butt on the floor, having bounced off him like rubber. And when she saw his face, that stony blank face, all her will to stand up whooshed out of her and she could do nothing but stare up at him like an idiot.

"Hey," he said in a deep baritone, not changing expression. "Hey, uh... Reno?"

"Yeah?" The familiar voice called from behind him, a spiky red head swiveling to face the two. "Whaddya want, Rude?"

There was a slight scuffling, and Elena was standing at Rude's side, staring down at Yuffie with a shocked expression on her face. "AVALANCHE!"

Yuffie leapt to her feet, quicker than lightning, her hand hovering threateningly over her shuriken. "Turks," she scowled angrily. "What're you weasels doing in Wutai?"

They stared at each other a few moments, tension mounting furiously, hearts pounding. Rude, stoic as ever, stood in front of her with his arms crossed, eyes hidden, towering over her. Elena, her hazel eyes flashing, breath coming quick and scared, stood beside him and darted her eyes from one Turk to the other, yet keeping all her attention on Yuffie. She was nervous, it was apparent. But, in that case, so was Yuffie. Hell, the only one who didn't seem phased was Reno, always the cool talker, always the quick thinker. He wiped the surprised look off his face and instead slung his nightstick onto one shoulder, grinning devilishly at her. It spelled trouble.

"Heyyyy..." he sneered, moving towards the three with his usual swagger. Yuffie readied herself, her heart pounding uncontrollably, preparing herself for the worst. "Lookie who we have here... It's that Yuppie kid."

"Yuffie!" she yelped angrily. "And what the hell are you doing here?"

Elena made a slow movement with her arm that slightly opened her blue coat, showing a holstered pistol gleaming menacingly at Yuffie. "What we shoulda done a long time ago, brat..."

"Elena, wait a minute," Rude commanded before Elena could make another move. The girl scowled at her comrade, but folded her arms across her chest, obviously ready to attack Yuffie at the smallest cue. Reno and Rude simply ignored this.

"We," Reno stated, gesturing to his friends, "are here because we were hoping to booze a little. Got a problem?"

Yuffie narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Yeah, right. If there's one thing I've learned, it's not to trust you Shinra scum. What's the *real* reason you're here?"

"Shinra?" Reno scoffed, waving a hand. "What Shinra? Are you blind, kid? Shinra's *over*."

"We're not getting paid for missions anymore," Elena added snidely. "You think we're gonna be out here killing people for fun? Cuz we feel like it? In case you haven't noticed, *kiddo,* our company's bitten the big one."

"Once a Turk, always a Turk," Yuffie retorted. "I know you. I know how you work. It's not that simple."

"Who's gonna pay us then?" Rude said simply, his face a stony blank. He crossed his arms over his chest and held his head up, the sunglasses peering off into the distance. But she knew he had his eyes on her the entire time, she knew he was watching her every move like a hawk. Even though he *did* have a point...

She blinked at him, for the moment stymied. "Huh?"

Reno cut in with a loud sigh. "Guys, never mind her. Look at us, we're arguing with a *kid.* Her friends aren't around, she's by herself, and she's smart enough not to fight us. Let's go." He pulled Elena's arm and led her away, casting warning glances over his shoulder at both of them. Rude gave Yuffie a meaningless shrug and turned to follow as well, moving away across the bar.

She stood, aghast, her mind racing. Something was going on. Something was going on. She had to tell the others about it, now. She couldn't see it, but she sensed it, like one would smell a wildfire in the wind. Her hand instinctively moved to her PHS, and she slowly trod backwards until she was nearly out the door, staring pointedly at the Turks. She was onto them, and they knew it. But they couldn't stop her now, not with her friends on the way.

Before Yuffie was out the door, Rude turned his head so his eyes bored through her behind his sunglasses. "Hey," he said again.

She tensed, ready to fight. "What?"

"We mean it. We're here to drink."

"Sure. There's plenty of other bars. You coulda gone to Junon or something."

Elena's head snapped up, her eyes burning cold fire. "Shut up, you little pest. That's not funny."

"Elena, calm down," Reno murmured. "She's just a kid."

"AVALANCHE," Elena hissed back. "She's an AVALANCHE."

"And we're Turks, remember?"

"Yeah, but-"

Yuffie cut in impatiently. "What's so unfunny about Junon, Bean-o?"

Reno shot her a withering look. "Can it, brat. Let's just say it's not a very friendly place to live anymore."

"Junon? Why Junon?" She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at them. "I don't get it."

"We already got kicked outta there," Elena conceded resentfully. "And that's why we're *here.* So if you'll *excuse* us, we're just going to have a few drinks, thank you very much."

"Yeah, right." Yuffie laughed scornfully, her hands on her hips. "Why would you get kicked outta Junon?"

"Ever since that Shinra kid bit the big one, it's a riot," Reno sighed. "Damn Rufus screwed it up for everyone now. We couldn't even get near it."

"Rufus?" She started. "But he's-..." No, he wasn't, she remembered quickly. He was dead to the world. She couldn't let these Turks know, she couldn't let *anyone* know. She had come so close to telling everything... Foolish.

"Rufus is dead; he got chargrilled by Weapon. And now Junon's a disaster. So we came here. And now, what, you're going to attack us and treat us like dirt? You've got a lotta nerve, kid." Reno leaned on his nightstick and frowned at her. "Why I am even *telling* you this? Scram! Get outta here before you ruin my booze. Aren't you too young to be in here, anyway?"

"But- but-..." she stammered.

"Go home and play with your dolls," Rude ordered, turning away. The other two Turks followed suit, casting contemptuous glances at her but leaving her alone, scratching her head and wondering. What did she do *now*?

At any rate, she wouldn't let them get away with any of their dirty tricks. She left the bar and headed for her favorite lookout spot, the roof of the materia shop, to watch over Wutai. Who knew what was going to happen next. She, most of all, had to be ready.

At last, he found what he was looking for.

Bugah pulled a dusty box from the shelf, blowing on it to disperse the cobwebs. How long had it been... Years? Years since he had seen these files, years since he had perused their content. Their words were dull and hazy to him now, but he would be rereading them. They perhaps held the key to the puzzle, the final clue that he needed to solve this mystery. He pulled the cover off the box and looked eagerly inside at the stack of papers within.

There was more than he remembered, the manilla folders wrinkled and faded with age. But the pages, though yellowed, were still full of answers. The writings, in Professor Gast's scrawling pen, were perhaps the most important documents concerning the Planet's methods. And Shinra hadn't even known they'd had it. How ironic that these documents would perhaps save the ex-President of the company. If, that is, his hunch was correct.

He spent at least two hours reading, the flame from his small lamp sending irregular lighting over the pages, making them hard to read at times, but still he kept on. The words were scrawled carelessly around the page, unintelligible in places, but Bugah waded through the mounds of information like a fire devouring wood. Here lay his answer, the answer for Rufus Shinra, and, as he was starting to believe, the answer for the whole Planet. This was bigger than he had thought, far deeper than a simple freak occurrence. Far deeper.. Almost frightening in its depth.

Bugah kept reading, his back aching and eyes straining, until at last he lifted his head and stared around him dully. It was almost time, he knew. The Elder was still unsure whether or not he was correct in his beliefs, but the evidence was too great to be ignored. Could it be...?

He quickly gathered all the papers back in the box, and, carrying it laboriously out the door, hurried to find Rufus.

At last, he found what he was looking for.

Vincent barely registered the words, “Valentine, Vincent” before he was tearing the folder from the rest, his eyes feasting on it greedily. Vincent Valentine. Himself. The notes of Hojo, on his terrible experiments. About what had happened all those years. Vincent Valentine. What had Hojo done to him? What about Lucrecia? His mind swirled with questions, looming, unanswerable questions, until now. Until now. He clenched his brass hand into a fist and laid it on top of the folder, closing his eyes for a brief moment of rest.. He had been searching so long...

He didn't notice that the folder was suspiciously thin, not until it was too late. He pulled open the cover, calmly expecting to see words, terrible words, detailing the monstrosities that had happened to him. But inside the manilla folder, there were two sheets of paper, both blank. And besides that, it was empty.

Scrawled on the inside cover, in long, barely intelligible handwriting: “You'll never find them.” A note... to him? He'd never find them... He'd never... Never...

Vincent stood for the longest time, simply staring down at the page, the words echoing hollowly in his ears. He would never find them. His past, his atonement, his... Lucrecia.

Never...?

Reeve tapped Rufus delicately on the shoulder, drawing from the ex-President a muffled cry and a quick spin to face the new interruption. Once the boy's eyes settled on his former employee, however, they instantly regained their old ice. "For God's sake, Reeve, sneak up on me like that again and I'll have you shot."

Reeve ignored the obviously empty threat and grinned amiably. "How are you, sir? Did Bugah find you yet?"

"Yes, Bugah found me," Rufus sighed wearily. "Then he left again saying he had to do 'research'." He made quotation marks with his fingers, then shook his head and started wearily massaging a temple. "And I've been tense all day, Reeve. This place is killing me."

Cloud's words, //The sooner we can get this guy off our hands, the better//, rang in Reeve's ears, but he pulled at his goatee thoughtfully, to hide his smirk. "Ohh, sir?"

"Yes, *oh*, Reeve. Wipe that look off your face. Where is everyone else, exactly?"

"Well..." Reeve sighed and rolled his eyes heavenwards, thinking. "Tifa and Red are off somewhere, I think maybe in the hologram machine. Cloud's either with them or talking with Bugah. Cait Sith's shut down in my hotel room. And everyone else is home." He cocked his head to one side, blowing out his breath. "Hopefully, Cid'll put off repairing the Highwind until we can all gather together again. It got pretty messed up when Holy erupted."

"Highwind?" Rufus frowned, confused. "You... You don't mean the long-distance Airship, do you?"

Reeve shot him a look. "Oh, well... Yes."

"Hmm. That's what I thought." Rufus sniffed indignantly, arching an eyebrow. "I never would have expected this from you, Reeve."

He shook his head helplessly. No matter what he said, his young President would make one of his infamous remarks, the kind designed to smote an opponent in one fell swoop. This kid was a terror, no doubt about it. A walking, breathing nightmare for anyone who dared oppose. So Reeve's best option was to remain silent, and escape with merely a harsh glare, perhaps even a disgusted "Hmm."

Rufus was interrupted in his rebuke by Bugah, bustling in out of nowhere, hefting along with him a crate full of papers. Every page looked old and yellow, as though written many years ago, and covered in scribbles. Rufus narrowed his eyes at the collection, opening his mouth to make a query on it, but Bugah interrupted him before he could speak.

"Rufus! I have to ask you something," he wheezed breathlessly. "It's very important."

Rufus decided to make the old man sweat. "Oh really?"

Reeve saw the old man panting with the heavy crate, carrying his walking stick uselessly at his side, and rushed to help him. "Here, Bugah," he said limply, holding his arms out for the box. It was heavier than he expected, nearly bowling him over as he clung onto it. Bugah simply shifted it to the other man's arms and kept talking without pause.

"No time for games, son. I think I may have your answer."

Rufus's heart leapt, but he didn't change expression from a cynical smirk. "Did I ask a question?"

"You know what I mean," Bugah frowned, losing patience. "Mr Rufus, in your dr-"

"What are those papers, Elder?"

"The writings of Professor Gast," Bugah answered. "But, Rufus, when you-"

"Gast? Him *again*? Can't get away from him these days."

"Sir," Reeve interrupted disapprovingly. "Elder Bugah has to ask you a question."

Rufus shot him a Look, but closed his mouth. Bugah continued with a thankful nod at Reeve. "Alright, Rufus. Mr Reeve and Mr Strife were telling me that when at night, you call out in your sleep, or toss and turn. Is this because of your dreams, perhaps?"

Rufus suppressed a laugh. "What kind of question is *that*?"

"Sir!" Reeve started. "Wh-"

"You will understand soon enough. Do you remember your dreams?"

"Occasionally, yes," Rufus replied, shaking his head bemusedly. "Although what this has to do with being dead is-"

"Tell me, Rufus..." Bugah's face now held a knowing smirk, his eyes glittering in his knowledge. "When you dream, do you ever get the feeling as though you are in the Lifestream?"

Rufus stopped, frowning to himself, scratching the back of his head. "Lifestream? Well, I suppose so. Except..." He shook his head, then shot a glance over to Reeve, to make sure he was studiously not paying attention. "Except usually I dream... Well, it's sort of that the Lifestream is ... inside *me*. But... but that's crazy. I don't know what it means."

Bugah nodded slowly, then put his hands on Rufus's shoulders and stared straight into his glowing Mako eyes. "My boy," he laughed softly, delightedly. "Go call your friends. Tell them to come right away."

Reeve's eyebrows went up in disbelief. "Bugah, you mean...?"

"Yes. I have your answer."