Answer to the Planet

Rufus's dreams were troubled that night, his sleep brief. He was to know the answer tomorrow, everything that had plagued him coming clear only then. The other members of AVALANCHE wouldn't be able to arrive until the next evening, after Captain Highwind did some quick patchwork on the Airship's engine. So one more night he was to lie in suspense, and fall victim to uncertain dreams. Dreams which he wasn't even sure... They were too familiar to be dreams. He must have been through them before, somehow, somewhere. Though he couldn't remember clearly ... But, hell, he couldn't remember *anything* clearly anymore... Perhaps his life was just blurring into dream, maybe he would wake up one morning in Junon, and his father would still be President, and Rufus could forget all these people, all their names and faces and voices... Just forget this ever happened.

//Dreaming again, Rufus... It'll never happen. It's too late... //

He was on the floor, gasping for air, feeling pain and numb at the same time.. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know how he got there, only that time was running out faster than sand running through his fingers. His vision was blurry, and it was dark. It was like the darkness that came after a light, a bright light. The air around him was electric, humming with energy somehow. He didn't know what he was doing there. He wanted nothing more than escape...

He didn't understand, but he knew he was wounded. He was broken and lying on the floor, breath rasping. He was in shock. It was as though he was standing above himself, watching the pain, but unable to feel anything. Above all, he was tired, so very tired, wanting to simply close his eyes and drift away..

But he knew when he closed his eyes, where he would go.

He lifted his face in desperation, staring blankly around him. The room was in ruins, shattered equipment everywhere, glass and steel lying mangled on the floor. He was in the corner, pushed against some rubble, on his stomach with the side of his head pressed against the wall. He tried to reach up and touch his face, but the pain brought him back to earth and threw him instantly again into the depths of space. Everything was swirling in his confusion, seeping through the electric air.

Slowly, dimly, he felt himself grow lighter, felt the pain deepen as he moved away. There was a roaring in his ears now, a singing, and the background was growing lighter every moment... And he knew vaguely where he was now, but it was too late. There was no way to save himself. It was over.

Another voice crept into his feeble conciousness, contempt flowing deep through it. "So, here you are, eh?"

"You never thought you'd be here, did ya? Ya never thought you, *Rufus Shinra*, would be *here*... You always had to be on top, above everybody, like you were so damned special..."

He felt something stab deep into his gut and curled into a ball, almost crying out in his pain but finding he had no voice. He was weak; unbearably weak.. So weak it was painful. His chest throbbed feverishly, his skin burned.

"Well you're *not*, are ya? You're gonna die like the rest of us, and you're gonna die like a dog! ... You're not so great anymore, now. Now you're *nothing*. You're going to hell where you belong. I hope you burn for eternity, you bastard. Together with your daddy..."

The light was too bright now. Rufus tried to turn his face from it, but it was everywhere, taking him in with it. His hold on his body weakened; eventually it was gone and he was as nothing, free and yet confined by something. And, farther away now, the voice reached him contorted by anger and bitterness, "I've been waiting a long time for this..."

Then everything faded to white.

A little boy was sitting on the floor, clutching a large stuffed Mog in his young hands, staring around him with glittering blue eyes. Around him, the room was still, the walls darkened except for the flickering of his night-light, gleaming comfortingly at him from the socket next to the door. Slowly, carefully, he got to his feet and stumbled over to it, his face illuminated by the faint pink light. It reflected off the loose strands of red hair that hung over his eyes, and cast looming shadows on the young face.

He wrapped his arm around his Mog's neck and buried his face in the stuffed animal's fur. His Gilly. A present from his mother, named by his father. Father had given him a big smile when he christened the toy, saying that one day he would understand the significance. The boy knew it had something to do with money, and that Father had a lot of it, but he was too young to fully comprehend. It didn't matter; he dragged Gilly everywhere, as his constant companion.

"Shhh, Gilly, can you hear that?" The blue eyes peeked up and stared intently at the door, form held perfectly still. There was a dinner party going on downstairs, which meant Father must be home from Junon. A dinner party. He loved the dinner parties.

"Shhhh," he commanded again to his toy Mog, then slowly padded over to the door and reached up a small hand. Being too small to do more than touch the knob with one tiny finger, he finally resorted to standing on the head of his companion and jumping until he managed to smack the doorknob on one side. It gave a creak, but it turned, and the door slowly opened a crack.

The boy fell to the floor on his bottom, but recovered instantly and wrapped his arm around the Mog's neck again. "We have to be quiet," he murmured, half to Gilly and half to himself. "They mustn't hear us. We're only going to look."

He pulled open the door and toddled out into the hallway, the music and laughter from downstairs ringing in his little ears, the bright lights from the party streaming down the long hallway and making his eyes vaguely hurt. His room was far from the commotion, tucked into the very back corner of the mansion where he lived. He pattered down the long hallway that led to the upstairs of the grand ballroom, clinging protectively to Gilly and breathing hard.. "We mustn't get caught," he repeated again softly. "Father might be angry."

He reached the bannister and lay on his stomach, sticking his head through the railings to stare down at the scene below him. He loved parties like this, everyone looked so perfect, like dolls. The ladies laughed loudly and showed their perfect white teeth, all thin and pretty with their hair pulled into impossible fashions and shining in the light. The men held onto the ladies' arms, smiling debonairishly in their starched and bleached dress shirts, shining pure white up to the boy's young eyes. Or they would still have their tuxedo jackets on, and be perfect, graceful black figures, gripping crystal wine glasses by their stems. Everyone would be laughing, or talking, with crowds by the refreshment table, and no one would be unhappy or sad. When Father held such parties, everyone was smiling and talking, and no one was alone. That was the best part. Everyone was happy and no one was alone.

The boy peered harder around the large ballroom, hearing the dainty piano music and saxophone from the band playing in the corner. A few random couples twirled on the dance floor, but mostly it was large groups of people standing on the sides and chattering, everyone clamping wine glasses between their aristocratic fingers. A large group was right underneath where the boy was staring, a short, stocky man standing at the head, sending the crowd around him into peal after peal of laughter. He was not holding a wine glass, just a cigar which he puffed on lazily, and kept waving in the air as he described something in the story he was telling. Everyone was paying attention to him, even in the other crowds across the room, even the dancers on the floor. He was the center of the room, the king of everyone he saw. Father.

The boy smiled down at his father and hugged Gilly tightly. "Everyone likes him so much," he murmured dreamily. "He's so important. Everyone likes him because this is his party and he's so important." He glanced at his toy and stuffed its small head through the railings to his right. "Look, Gilly, everyone thinks he's so funny..."

Boy and Mog stared down at the spectacle, the beautiful people everywhere and doing their elegant things, better than anything heard in fairy tales, because these were real. Everyone was so graceful, and perfect, it took the boy's breath away. He couldn't wait until he was old enough to be able to go to such pretty parties, too. Or maybe he would have his own...

The boy pretended his Mog was excited, jumping up and down at the beauty below them. "Shh, Gilly, don't make any noise. We don't want to bother anyone." He broke into a smile and reached for his Mog, feeling somewhat tired. "Come on, let's go."

His childish hand reached for his toy, but his clumsy fingers instead knocked Gilly into the railing, and then groped desperately to recover for the error. But it was too late, and Gilly had slid through the space and into open air, then down down down to the ballroom floor below.

The boy stifled a cry and covered his mouth with both hands. "Oh, no," came his muffled gasp, eyes brimming with tears. "Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no."

"Eh? What's this?"

"Oh, my, what *is* that?"

"Heh heh, Mr President, you seem to have dropped something."

"That just fell from the ceiling. What... oh my!"

"A stuffed toy!" Someone started laughing. "Oh, I see now."

"Oh, look at him! He's so tiny! Mr President, is he yours?"

"Hmm? What?"

"Look!"

The boy's blue eyes widened, as he saw the small crowd below him turn their faces towards him and smile. He was very unused to the attention he was getting now, and was extremely embarrassed, not to mention petrified that his father would be angry at him for spying. But he had only wanted to look, he hadn't meant to bother anyone. "Mm... M-m-m-m..."

"Ohh!" Father was looking up at him now, beaming congenially and taking a joyous pull off of his cigar. "Yes, that right there is my boy. The future President of Shinra, Inc., that's right! What are you doing out of bed?"

"M-m-m-m..." the boy stammered, a tear spilling out his eye. "My Gilly."

"Gilly?" The man standing next to Father laughed and clapped him on the back.. He bent over and picked up the toy roughly by the neck, still grinning. "He named his toys after money! He's already a chip off the old block, sir!"

"What's your name, dear?" a lady piped up, smiling warmly at him.

"R-r-rufus," the boy murmured, retreating a little so only his eyes showed to those down below. "Rufus Shinra."

"Ohh, look, he's terrified!" the lady said again, to those standing around her. "Poor dear! What's he doing up so late?"

"Come down here, Rufus! Let us take a look at you!" His father was grinning at him, arms open up to his son, eyes dancing with pride. "C'mon! Gilly's waiting for you!"

Rufus nodded and scampered over to the stairs, sliding himself down to the bottom until he reached his father, who picked him up and turned so that the entire crowd could see him. Rufus clung onto his father's neck, watching everyone around him with wide blue eyes, smiling shyly.

"He's so darling!" another lady piped up, brushing back the few stray locks that hung over Rufus's eyes. "How old are you?"

"Four."

"Four! Oh, my! You're such a big boy now!"

Someone laughed. "Oh, geez, she's gonna ruin the kid. Hey, Rufus, when are you gonna help Daddy run his company?"

"M-m-m-m," he whimpered, clinging even tighter onto his Father.

"How about right now?" President Shinra set his son down on a chair and crouched so they were face-to-face. "So, son, what should our next move be?"

"M-m-move?"

"Yeah! Whaddya want our company to do next? Should we build something?"

Rufus nodded, staring intently at Gilly, who was in the arms of one of the ladies, being stroked like a dog. "Can I have Gilly?"

"You want Gilly there? Sure! We'll build a Mog-land. Does that sound good?"

"Mm-hmm." Rufus nodded again, not looking at Father, but at the people staring down at him. He stood up on his chair, one hand holding onto the back for support. "Yeah."

"You mean an amusement park?"

"Yeah."

"A big one?"

"Real big."

"What'll it look like?"

Rufus closed his eyes. "Gold."

"Gold!" Someone laughed, but President Shinra only nodded. "And what else?"

Rufus shrugged, his face blank. "Mmm-mm."

"What'll we call it?"

"House 'r Gold."

"No, that's no good."

"If it's *this* kid's idea, it should be called Silver Spoon," someone muttered in the back, not intending to be heard.

"But it's made of Gold," President Shinra said out of the corner of his mouth to the impertinent speaker. "Golden Spoon?" he suggested.

"No." Rufus made a face. A few of the ladies laughed.

"Golden Cup?"

Rufus didn't answer, but his face was blank.

"Hm... didn't think so. How about... mmm, Gold ... Saucer?"

"Yeah!" Rufus thought about a big golden plate, with a huge park built on top. Childish joy lit up his face. "That!"

"Alright! Who here wants to be in charge of building a new amusement park for my son?" President Shinra looked around. "Anyone?"

"Are you serious, Mr President?" someone asked.

"Damn right I am! It's a good idea! Lots of children love amusement parks, and we can use these little Mog-things to attract them." He gestured to Gilly, who glared forlornly at Rufus, as if screaming for help.

There was a silence within the crowd for a moment, before someone raised his hand and murmured, "If you get me the paperwork tomorrow, I'd be happy to start on it right away."

"Gilly?" Rufus pleaded, reaching out his arms. "Gilly?"

"All *right*! You can be in charge of the new *Gold Saucer*, then." President Shinra beamed down at his protege. "Good idea, son," he chortled, patting Rufus roughly on the head. "We're gonna make you one hell of a president, you know that?"

"Can I have Gilly?"

"Mm? Oh, yes, here you go." He daintily removed the Mog from the hands of one of the gentlewomen with an apologetic smile, then passed it to his son. Rufus wrapped his arms around his companion gratefully, then watched as his father turned away and promptly forgot him.

Cid's voice over the PHS was jarringly loud, sending Vincent's already keen senses into an uproar. "You *what!?!*"

Vincent's voice, as ever, was deadpanned and emotionless. "I'm not going back to Cosmo Canyon. You may leave me here."

The tinny voice of Shinra's former star astronaut spat back at him, recognizably angry. "Vincent, come *on*, you're one of us! I don't care how much you gotta 'atone', ya gotta be there!"

"Cid, you don't understand." Vincent's voice was soft, but persistent. "Rufus Shinra has nothing to do with me. AVALANCHE does not need me there. I need to be alone right now."

"*Why?* You were locked in a coffin all those years, you've been alone long enough... Look, Vince, I know you feel bad about what happened to that Lucy girl, but-"

"Lucrecia."

"*Whatever*! You just gotta stop punishing yourself for things you didn't do! C'mon. Get some weight off your shoulders. Relax. Forget your problems for a while."

"I'm afraid, my friend," Vincent replied lowly, "that you are asking the impossible."

Cid paused a few moments, then let out a sigh which clearly stated his *grudging* acceptance of Vincent's request. "Alright. But after we hear this, I'm coming right back to getcha, and you're gonna stay with me and Shera. Got that?"

"That won't be neccesar-"

"@$(*@!! Vincent, no matter how weird you act, you're one of us, right? And I ain't gonna sit by while you rot in that coffin of yours." Cid's voice was final, no-nonsense, no-questions. Before Vincent could even open his mouth to respond, the catankerous old pilot had given a last, "I mean that, Vince," and hung up. Vincent was left with his phone humming a flat dialtone into his ear.

Barret stepped off of the rope ladder hanging from the enormous airship (now looking more like an airplane after the mauling it got in the Northern Crater), and glanced upwards at his comrades climbing down after him. "Sooner we get to dat Shinra brat," he huffed impatiently, "Sooner we can leave."

"We're goin', we're goin'." Cid Highwind gave a muffled cough once he was on solid ground, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. "It's a bit of a walk to the Canyon, though. Hope yer up to it."

"Well, *I'm* not the one with the smoker's cough," Yuffie chided playfully, leaping down off of the ladder. She had been more than happy to leave Wutai, bored to death after the original excitement of seeing the Turks there. They had indeed come merely to drink, stayed in the Inn a few days, and had departed promptly that morning, to god-knows-where. Her sense of adventure had been starving itself, and, even though having a long, in-depth discussion on Rufus Shinra was the only thing to look forward to, at least it was better than sitting at home.

Cid cast her a Look, but didn't reply, instead throwing a lazy salute up to the new pilot standing above them on the ship. "Take good care of my baby, will ya? I'll probably be back tomorrow or somethin'. I'll radio with any news."

The kid saluted his assent right back, and disappeared into the reaches of the Highwind, leaving the three AVALANCHE members to shrug at each other and plod up the red dusty road ahead of them, to Cosmo Canyon. Already the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, dusk approaching rapidly, with probably only an hour of daylight left. They would get there barely before nightfall, giving them even greater reason to hurry.

Cid strode on, the sun above stained auburn with the Canyon dust, the light warming the back of his neck. He could have gotten them all there sooner, but the Highwind was a wreck after what Holy did to it. It was no longer the proud airship it once was, but an airplane-like reincarnation on its last legs. The flight home from the Northern Crater was almost its last breath, and it had taken a miracle to get her from Kalm to Cosmo, to Rocket Town, and back again. As it was, he might have to call for Shera to fly the Tiny Bronco over to him so he could get himself home. Damned Holy. Damned Northern Crater. Damned Sephiroth. Wreckin' his baby like that...

He cursed himself thusly all the way up to the Cosmo gates, Yuffie and Barret puffing at his side, climbing the long flight of stairs into the Canyon. They looked around at the many torches illuminating the place, the people wandering peacefully throughout, greeting one another cheerfully. This place was always a refreshing stop, perhaps the best haven they could be offered. And, waiting for them in a small group by the stairs leading up to Bugah's laboratories, stood their friends, with broad smiles on their faces.

"Yo, guys!" Barret called out, waving a gun-arm in the air. "Look who's back!"

"Barret!" Tifa greeted cheerfully, rushing forwards to welcome her fellow AVALANCHE. "Cid! Yuffie! We've been waiting all day for you! Man, you should see Rufus, he's pacing a hole into his hotel room floor." She stopped a moment, counting the faces, a sudden frown falling across her face. "Where's Vincent?"

"I couldn't get him to come," Cid shrugged ruefully. "Said something about needin' to be alone. He's gonna be stayin' with me and Shera after this, tho. I'm sick of him wastin' his life feelin' sorry for himself."

Yuffie grinned widely at him. "And does Shera know about this?"

Cid narrowed his eyes at her and scratched the back of his head. "Well, not exactly, but-"

"Heh heh," Yuffie replied. Barret and Tifa grinned.

"Youuu..." Cid shook his head at the Ninja, taking the cigarette out of his mouth. "You're askin' for it, brat. If Tifa here wasn't going to clobber me if I did, I'd be kickin' yer ass all over this canyon."

Reeve appeared at Tifa's side with a weak grin, fingering his goatee nervously. "Hey. How was your trip?"

"Fine." Barret shrugged at him, any malice he might have felt for the Shinra employee either nonexistent or well-concealed. "How's it been here? The brat givin' ya any hell?"

"Oh, is he ever," Cloud replied from behind Reeve. "You don't even wanna know."

Red padded up to the group, giving everyone a doglike grin. "We're missing Vincent... Couldn't he make it?"

"Didn't want to," Tifa informed him. "But, since he's not going to be coming, I guess this means we're all here." She looked around at her friends, raising her eyebrows querulously. "Do you guys need anything? Eat, drink? They've got a bar over there, and it's got pretty good food."

"Let's just get this over with." Barret absently rubbed his gun-arm, glancing over her shoulder towards the Cosmo Flame. "There's Rufus."

They all turned to regard the former Shinra President, setting all attention on him at once. He stood silhouetted in the flame, fire flickering behind him and sending its sparks to the heavens. His face was covered with shadow, and all that could be seen clearly were his two Mako eyes, glowing fiercely back at them and swirling with Lifestream. His white trenchcoat rippled softly in the breeze, but the boy himself was still, waiting for them to make the first move, once again at ease in lying in wait.

"Ahh!" Bugah swept up to them and interrupted their gazes, his manner wholly pacific and serene. "It's nice to see you in Cosmo once more. I have some rather big news for you, and for Mr Shinra over there. Are you all here?"

Tifa nodded to him. "Is Rufus feeling alright today?"

"He'll be alright. Merely anxious to hear his answer," Bugah shrugged, rapping the end of his knarled walking stick on the red canyon ground. "So, if you're all here, we may begin. The red-eyed young man didn't return?"

"No," Cid said quickly, a bit irritated of being asked over and over. "Vincent's staying behind."

The Elder didn't acknowledge the answer, but instead turned to regard Rufus, who had slowly begun walking towards them. "Are you ready, Mr Shinra?"

"What are we waiting for?" Rufus sighed coolly, running a hand slowly through his hair and giving the members of AVALANCHE a haughty glance. "Let's begin."

He sat crosslegged on the ground, the heat from the fire on his face and making him very uncomfortable, evicting painful memories of several weeks ago. With every flame licking the night sky, he once again saw the balls of fire flying through the Midgar gloom. And the warmth beaming at him now was slightly irritating to the scars over his right temple, the only scars he carried now, after one final attempt with FullCure materia. These would stay with him the rest of his life, it seemed, no matter what he did.

They sat encircling the Cosmo Flame, on the ground, all eyes on Bugah and Rufus at the head. The boy sat unmoving, eyes staring unseeing into the flames, highly aloof from everything going on around him. Tifa glanced from face to face, from the old pilot at one side to the ex-SOLDIER on the other, to Red to Barret to Yuffie, to Reeve. They sat in the circle of light cast by the bonfire, and past them was darkness marked only by lights from the homes of canyon dwellers. High above, the stars twinkled down on them, more beautiful than any others she had seen before. She more than once caught Cid staring up at them, a look of longing on his face, like he wanted nothing more than to fly up there right now and explore the black reaches of endless space. But this wasn't the time; Bugah was now standing and preparing to address himself to them.

"I found," he said finally, "Professor Gast's old writings, which he left to me many years ago. It must have been twenty years since I've seen him, but when he left here the last visit, he gave me all his writings to safeguard until he came back. Unfortunately, Mr Shinra here tells me he was murdered after tampering with some files." Rufus glanced at the Elder from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. "Even so, I had his writings, and they have stayed with me all this time."

"What'd they say?" Cloud asked, eyes glimmering. "About Sephiroth, or the Jenova project? Did they-"

"They did not detail anything about Sephiroth, because that whole experiment was conducted largely by Professor Hojo. Also, Hojo managed to keep every file on that experiment, and Gast was unable to give them to me."

"Good thing, too, seeing as those were Shinra property in the first place," Rufus deadpanned, eyes once more on the fire. He was ignored.

"The largest matter they dealt with were things he learned from his wife, the last full-blood Cetra on the Planet. Ifalna was her name, I believe, and her daughter was a friend of yours, if I'm not mistaken."

Tifa and Cloud both drew their breath in slowly. "Aeris..." the mercenary murmured under his breath. "... Yes..."

A regretful smile washed the Elder's face. "I'm sorry, Cloud, there was nothing written about Aeris. He was shot shortly after Ifalna gave birth to her."

Cloud shook his head sorrowfully, but Bugah continued on, his voice taking on a matter-of-fact tone. "So when Mr Shinra told me his story, about his last moments before Weapon, and then his conversations with the Planet, I went to these papers for help. And when I heard he had a profound sympathy with the Planet's cries, I believed my hypothesis even more." He nodded sagely, pacing slowly back and forth, both hands clasped onto his walking stick. "And I have your answer."

Cid flicked his cigarette into the bonfire, scratching the back of his head impatiently. "And that would be...?"

"Well, the Mako eyes are a result of two different things. First, when any of the Weapons attack, they are made from the Planet, so they use Planet energy."

"You mean Mako...?" Red said softly, flicking his tail. "They attack with Mako?"

"Yes, Nanaki. They use Mako. Sort of the like the Mako guns Shinra executives are known to carry around." Bugah smiled at the lion-beast, and nodded slowly to himself, his eyes resting on the flame. "I vaguely remember seeing the man you call 'Palmer' using one."

"Palmer," Reeve scoffed, but Rufus gave him a blank glance, and the goateed man withheld any further scorn. Besides, the rest of AVALANCHE were getting impatient, eager to solve the mystery, as was Rufus, though he was less apt to show it.

"So the Mako blasted Rufus," Cloud furnished, thoughtfully pinching the bridge of his nose and frowning. "And the Mako got into his blood somehow, which was... which was like... an infusion?"

Rufus lifted his head slightly, eyes gleaming. "Yes... I was bleeding quite profusely afterwards, I think..." He shook his head slowly. "And there was a shock in the air as well... So it's very probable that it got into my bloodstream in that way."

"So he didn't really die?" Tifa wondered. "He just... just was hit by a whole lot of Mako?"

"That's the other thing. He did indeed perish in the blast." Bugah's face spread into a grin, the excitement slowly coming to the surface. "But his will was too strong to be diffused into the Lifestream. Not only that, but the Planet's original intention was to punish Rufus for the crimes he committed when he was alive."

Rufus's eyes shut involuntarily, but he forced them open again and regained his posture, cold as always. He was less aloof by now, his eyes still not looking at Bugah but glittering in a way which meant he was listening anyway. Tifa glanced at him in wonder, at the stony visage, hearing the account by Bugah. "So he was dead..."

"But something happened. The Planet was in need after the death of its Weapons, at the hands of Shinra as well as AVALANCHE." Bugah looked around to see if his words had any effect, and they did. Barret looked ready to leap out of his skin.

"Ya mean if we hadn't killed those things, Rufus woulda died for real?"

Rufus laughed softly, his white teeth flashing against the flames. "Well, I owe you my gratitude then, don't I?"

Bugah shrugged. "Perhaps. But the Planet called him back again, and now he is needed for other reasons. I don't know what those reasons are yet, but-" He broke off and sent a pointed glance at the ex-President. "I'm sure that will come later. All I can tell you is what he is now, and why he is here.

"Rufus is here after being recreated by the Planet. He is part of the Planet as the Planet is part of him. There could only be one explanation for a circumstance such as this." Bugah drew himself to his full height, letting out his breath slowly. The entire crowd tensed, waiting for his next words, the only sound the crackling of the flames devouring wood.

"Simply put, Rufus Shinra is a Weapon."