Hey hey, Happy Quarantine! Of course it took an apocalyptic event to get me to write. That and of course the remake... Which I do have ordered and will be binging like a mad woman. (I'm totally going to mod my ShinRa ID card with Ryo's info :3) Hopefully it will hype me up and keep my imagination going to continue Ryo's adventures. Fingers crossed. This chapter is a short one I know, but it's essentially the scraps of the last chapter I'd been working on a few years ago. I'm trying to get caught up with the story as much as you all will be, I'm sure. There will be a small time jump after this chapter since eveything's at an open point here. I do intend to make use of my time working on this, but I really had just dropped it back then and don't have a lot fleshed out. It will take some time for me to get another chapter out after this.

As a personal update it has been a very eventful(if not in positive ways) few years. Diagnosed with a number of health issues, moved(twice), and became caretaker to my mother in hospice. It was a few months before my chapters began to slow that I was diagnosed with cancer and fell into a deep depression. Focusing on anything was a no go as you could imagine. I waffled on things for a while and was lined up for surgery before all this pandemic business. That's on hold now for who knows how long. Fortunately I'm not in any critical danger and happily in my natural environment (isolation). With no work I've got a bit of time on my hands.

I am infinitely grateful for all of you who have popped on over the years giving support in the comments. I've been seeing fav notifications a lot more recently. I'm sure everyone's itching for FF7Remix as much as I am. So here's to a new year and hopefully a better one!

Since this author blurb has drawn on almost as long as the chapter itself I'll leave it here. Please forgive any grievous errors, I've gotten rusty. If you find anything to correct leave it in a comment and I'll update it. TY all!

Chapter 36 - Dissonance

Angeal slowly cracked one eye open and the other followed hesitantly. Where? He was laying on a bed with his upper torso propped slightly. It was dark fortunately. He had a feeling his light wary eyes wouldn't have been able to tolerate it otherwise.

Looks like a hospital room...what happened?

He groaned softly and shifted to a more comfortable position, or as comfortable as the stiff mattress, tangled wires, and tubes would allow. Not to mention his wrists were strapped to the metal bars on either side of his bed. Angeal strained to remember what had occurred to warrant this. If he were injured in a mission he could understand the hospital, but why was he strapped down? And why did the room he was placed in look more like a prison cell? He shifted to sit straighter as panic began to creep it's way into his mind.

Escape, escape, escape...

Angeal shook his head in an effort to clear it. He felt foggy, his mind a haze of strange words that weren't his own. Every inch of him ached like it was in the midst of an awful flu, nothing felt right. Beside him a lump of red stirred, startling him. Angeal jerked to stare wide eyed as his friend's familiar worn visage peaked up at him.

"Angeal?" Gen's voice was rough from sleep and he cleared his throat as he slowly sat up, cringing as his back protested the inadequate sleeping arrangement he'd found. "You're awake...and you."

Angeal blinked blankly at him with little comprehension until finally his groggy mind fell into place. They treated him with Ryo's blood...and it hadn't gone well. Angeal paled as his memories of the event filtered back in.

It had felt like he'd been a passenger in his own body trying to wrestle the wheel from someone else. Genesis failed to notice his friends unease. He blinked blearily and looked around almost as though he were as puzzled by their surroundings as Angeal was.

"I don't know how Seph tolerated this place all those years. It so...drab," Gen's mild disgust more than evident.

Angeal chuckled softly, "I think the decor is the least of its issues...I didn't hurt anyone did I?"

Genesis scoffed, "No...Nearly gave Hollander a heart attack when you ripped out of that chair though... Bashed yourself up more than anything."

Angeal gave a thoughtful hum and strained his eye in an attempt to see the large bandage he felt near his temple, "I guess that explains the headache..."

Gen's faint smile faded and in the low light he looked far from the handsome socialite he always liked to portray. Wariness creased his brows and lack of sleep darkened beneath his eyes making them appear sunken and hollow. "We were worried you wouldn't wake. You gave yourself quite the concussion..."

Angeal smiled faintly, "But it's done now at least."

When his friend's wary stare failed to lighten Angeal's smile wavered and fell, "..Isn't it?"

Genesis looked away, "I'm afraid not…Hollander has been doing tests using samples from both Ryo and myself to formulate a less… aggressive protocol. He's had some success, but it's slow going." A thin smile lifted his regal features, "Considering you've woken, perhaps this last concoction has worked."

His strained attempt at optimism did little to console the dark haired man. Angeal gently clenched and opened his fists in an effort to return feeling to his tingling digits. Angeal nodded to the binds on his arms, "No chance of me being free of these for a while then?"

Genesis' lips quirked in a weak half smile, "Afraid not… How are you feeling now though? I mean aside from the headache."

Angeal let himself relax and sink back against the pillow behind him. After taking in a moment for introspection he shrugged.

"Worn for sure… like a flu without the fever," Angeal looked to Genesis somewhat sheepishly, "You know I never get sick. This just feels strange."

With a mild hum the red head nodded, "Nothing else though? Voices? Violent urges?"

Angeal leveled Genesis with a deadpan stare before sighing softly in defeat. His brows furled in thought,

"I don't think so?"

Genesis nodded and after a moment gave Angeals' bound hand a pat. He stood and flexed a little to get the kinks out of his back. "Feel up to food? I've no doubt you need it."

Angeal nodded, "Sure, your choice. But I could use something to drink. My mouth feels like Del Sol."

Genesis cracked a little smile, "I'll bring some tea and see what else I can find. I'll be back in a few, Get some rest Geal."

With that Genesis slipped out the door. Angeal let his head fall back and sunk into the stiff pillow behind him. He'd done nothing more than chat, but felt utterly exhausted. This feeling of helplessness was unbearable and terribly depressing. Closing his eyes he meditated. His mind was quite aside from his own thoughts and the disturbing presence he'd felt before gone. At least for now… He'd become a liability. A danger to himself and others. A monster. Dreary thoughts lulled him into burdened sleep.

There wasn't much left to see in Bone Village. The local wildlife had picked the place fairly clean, and it was hard to tell what had been the work of their prey or simply hungry opportunists taking advantage of the fresh kills. Regardless, what did remain was unpleasant enough. The chill wind coming down from the mountain dampened the stench, but failed to eliminate it entirely. A young woman in a black suit with a long blond ponytail passed through the carnage stoically, but her partner looked a little green from it all. He brushed back a lock of pale curly hair that whipped around in the wind.

The boyish Turk forced a nervous smile, "Didn't really leave us much to work with here did they?"

The female Turk knelt down to examine the remains of what few tracks the early snowfall hadn't covered. Tseng must have known they would be up for quite the challenge. Freyra was a seasoned hunter of both man and beast and this territory was a familiar one.

"There's more here than you'd think..."

The barest hint of pointed toes dotted the distinct shape of a human foot pad and heel. In truth there was too much for her to follow. If all their sources were correct the remnant Genesis clones were essentially feral, but even so the tracks they'd been following showed surprising thought. The pair of Turks had been led down to the ocean then back up again where the tracks just seemed to mix. Either they're smarter than they look or they're as lost as we are... It was impossible to tell if this was all a purposefully orchestrated distraction, or if the clones were really this chaotic in their methods. It didn't bode well either way.

She straightened slowly and looked back to the South. A second trail of prints lead out from the village's remains. We're going in circles...But there wasn't really much more they could do but follow.

"Otoko, make sure the com's are working. Give Tseng our report. We need to put the locals on high alert… If they are trying to get off this continent they're going to need transportation."

Otoko nodded sharply. He put his back to the wind, but still had to struggle to be heard through the harsh northern gusts. "This is Agent Nunchaku and Freyra. I-I mean Agent Shotgun s-sorry Sir…"

His voice became indistinguishable as Freyra wandered out of the shelter of burning buildings to face the distant coast. Its shimmer danced along the horizon's edge even through the snowfall. The nearest port that serviced Icicle was over ten miles west and their quarry could have easily covered that ground overnight. If the clones managed to get on the water already then they had little hope of tracking them now. With a heavy sigh Freya shook her head. Not what I was hoping for a first mission… It was an opportunity to prove themselves if nothing else.

Sephiroth sat silently in the darkness of the room he'd been given. It wasn't his home, but he'd always been hard pressed to consider anything as such. Junon was accommodating if not welcoming.

The brilliant glow of the screen in front of him served as his only source of light at the moment. It's image changed as scenes progressed, casting odd shadows across his face and the walls around him. Most of the short black and white film reels were silent, but the genuine responses of its participants projected their heated emotions well. His mother's face strained as she was once again urged on by the startlingly youthful face of his lifelong tormentor.

It should be disturbing. He'd watched himself enter this world nearly a dozen times now.

He waited for what he already knew would come and the emotion that always seemed to follow. Hojo haphazardly rolled the small bundle of flesh that squirmed in his arms. The thing that somehow was himself opened its little mouth wide in a silent wail, its pale face scrunched tight. The woman on the bed smiled with relief, but it quickly turned to alarm and despair as the Professor hurried away with the child and did not return.

Rage bubbled up from deep within him, as was expected. His mother cried out and sobbed as her cries went unheard. After nearly an hour she stopped abruptly as someone new entered the scene. Tall thin with short dark hair wearing a somewhat outdated yet still very familiar suit, this new young man hurried to her side. He fell to his knees beside her and held her hand as she blubbered inconsolably.

Vincent Valentine.

The rage inside him calmed a few notes as he observed the now familiar scene. The more Sephiroth looked at the man's face the more he wondered if someone had thought it funny to alter his image by giving him black hair.

Father.

His mind struggled with the notion. Fought to separate those words and protect itself from the storm of emotion it incited. This hope and joy could destroy him more assuredly than a blade through the heart. The alternative was far more distasteful however. Fear and doubt cut through him with powerful strikes. What if he was just as awful as Hojo? Did Vincent know? Could he find the man?...and if he did. Would he accept him? Any confidence Sephiroth had accumulated over the years seemed to flee him in an instant leaving him feeling just as odd and out of place as he'd felt since childhood.

What if he doesn't want me?

He wasn't a child, but the thought of being rejected by this man above all was crushing. He didn't know how to be a son. He didn't really know what a father was supposed to be. He couldn't think of a single father in a positive light. Genesis hated his, Rufus loathed his as much if not more, and Angeal's father, though well loved, had passed before Sephiroth had a chance to meet him and felt more like a lingering ghost when mentioned. Professor Gast had been the closest thing to a father he could identify with.

Sephiroth's finger clicked on the mouse again as the screen went black. It flashed bright once more as the whole thing started again. He could predict the emotional response he'd receive at each point throughout the film. A captivated wonder at the sight of his mother's face, worry and tension at her pain as she fought to give birth, a sickening twinge of nausea at the sight of Hojo as he laid his hands on the woman, a near uncontrollable rage as he was taken away by the man. That anger tended to linger the longest. It was an emotional roller coaster he inflicted upon himself again and again, but he couldn't seem to stop.

These people were responsible for the shaping of his entire world and he'd only ever known one of them. The worst of them. Or so he hoped. This Valentine was a Turk, and while he held a healthy respect for their lot they weren't notorious for being kind moral individuals. Veld knew him...he couldn't have been awful. His imagination never failed to run wild wondering what the man might be like.

Father.

It all left him feeling lost. That lack of control he could not tolerate. And so he fled. We shouldn't isolate ourselves. Ryo had warned him against it, but he'd gone and done just that. It was automatic. Even so he felt it was necessary. He was unraveling the patchwork of who and what he was. This time though...he would be the one to piece the man known as Sephiroth back together. A stronger, more assured being of his own making. Ryo had spoken of a madness this unraveling would cause in him. A moment of weakness that would have given Jenova the opportunity to dominate him for her own ends. This he could not allow.

When it came time to face her he would do so with clarity and self assurance. Regardless of what he'd come from he was General Sephiroth: The Silver Devil, ShinRa's most elite Soldier, The strongest warrior on Gaia, and not some simpering child for an alien witch to command!

Sephiroth pulled away from the screen in front of him and paced in the dancing shadows it provided. It warped his own monstrously, giving it a life of its own. He would be the master of his own design. He would dictate his own fate. Not them. Not anymore.

I will be a pawn no longer…