The battle reports had started to come in, and they were not good.
Retreating troops were being totally overwhelmed by the staggering amounts of hybrids pouring out from the vortex’s. More unsettling to Hamilton further was that Sephiroth had still not made an appearance. He had predicted the leader to gloat over his almost-certain victory. Hamilton’s only hope was that the dark warrior would over-extend himself, somehow, and make a critical mistake...
But Sephiroth had not appeared. And he was showing a tactical prowess that Hamilton found hard to believe. Efficiently and systematically exterminating the troops one by one, he kept the Jenova in tight formation, making it almost impossible to take them out.
A plan seemed to form in Hamilton’s mind. He sat and considered it as a calm Da-Li issued orders of retreat to the contingents. Anderson spoke to Aeronnist in a low voice which Hamilton could just about hear.
“We’re losing men fast. At this rate...”
“I know, I know.” Aeronnist said. Their options were rapidly depleting. The Supreme Generals had hoped to kill, or at least immobilise, twelve-hundred hybrids before they went behind the Iron Curtain.
“I’m going out there. The men know me, it’ll give them a lift to see me fight.”
Anderson got up and grasped a rifle from the rack.
“Wait!” cried Aeronnist. “Jack, it’s suicide out there. If you die-”
“Then you and Da-Li take over my responsibilities. But I am not going to sit by and see the human race lost beneath a crawling horror.”
“Let him go.” said Da-Li softly. “Anderson, I will join you in three hours. But I need to secure three positions before I can join in the fight.”
Anderson looked surprised. “Vincent was wrong about you, then.”
Da-Li shrugged. “If I die, then I die as a hero.”
“This is madness!” Aeronnist shouted in frustration. “Without the two Supreme Generals, Fort Condor will inevitably fall!”
Hamilton raised a hand to stop them all.
“Gentlemen, Mr. Aeronnist. I must concur with Da-Li and Anderson. If this battle is not won within three hours, then we’re all dead men.”
Anderson left and Hamilton sat silent once again.
The plan was forming in his head.

-
Ensign Paris fought the nausea that threatened to overwhelm him, and battled on.
Next to him, three men literally exploded as the phenomenal power of the hybrids fist swung through them. Gore, and something that looked like a spine splattered against his helmet as he fell down, firing his shotgun wildly.
He wiped the blood from his visor with a shaky hand and fired again, the weapon recoiling into his stomach and winding him badly.
A sense of indescribable terror coursed through his veins like a narcotic. He screamed involuntarily and fired again at the huge creature towering over him. Several meters back, dozens of men stood still and did the same.
The hybrid roared as the buck-shot hit it again and again and again. Finally it came crashing down, by some miracle the carcass did not land on him. He got up from the muddy field and ran again. Far ahead, the Iron Curtain loomed like a pinnacle of hope.
“Get back.” he panted. “Get back get back get back.”
The men next to him fell down as a flying hybrid split open their bodies with ease. Paris screamed again as the headless corpses carried on running for a short distance, and then collapsed, limbs spasming weakly.
Paris felt the winged creature come back for another pass. He waited until it swooped down, shrieking. Then he jumped to the floor and shot the hybrid in the soft underbelly.
The flying Jenova were frail: they hadn’t the endurance like the ground hybrids. The creature screamed and flew about for a second before another soldier hit it in the head. With one final shriek it crashed into the ground and lay still.
His momentary jubilation was cut short as another hybrid came up behind him and took advantage of his vulnerable position.
He closed his eyes and waited for the end.
Instead, there was an explosion and his eyes snapped open. He saw the Jenova disappear in fireball that seemed to be inches from his face. The hairs on his head singed, and then burst into flame. The flesh on his face cracked and split, then shrivelled as fluid-filled blisters blossomed all over his body.
Then the heat was gone, and he screamed as the cold air crashed upon his raw skin. He tried to raise his head, but it flopped back feebly and he collapsed further into the mud.
It must of been a mine.
A soldier noticed him amongst the carcass of the dead hybrid, and stopped to pick him up.
“Name’s David.” he said grimly. “Nice to meet ya.”
“Lee... Paris.” Paris managed.
He was puzzled. How could David risk his life for a dying man?
“Why... are you saving me?” he croaked. His lungs were burning, and he gasped feebly.
David was silent. “Let’s talk while we run. It’s more fun.”
Somewhere behind them a man screamed. The sound was cut short by half-a-dozen gunshots.
“So.” said David. “Any family?”
“Got a girlfriend.” said Paris. “Tatiana.”
“Ahhh. A girlfriend.” grunted David as he ran through the mud. “Nice girl?”
“Great.”
“The marriage type?”
“I’m proposing to her once we win.”
David laughed. “Hang on in there, buddy. I’ll get a Doc to fix you up.”
Paris tasted blood in his mouth. “I think my lungs are bleeding.”
“Shit. Don’t worry about it.”
For a moment there was silence as David carried him through the gunfire and screams. Paris brought a hand up to his face, shuddered when he felt veins and muscles.
“How bad do I look? Anything Tatiana would dump me for?”
“Nothing much.” lied David. “Doctor’ll do you up soon enough.”
He wheezed loudly. It was supposed to be a laugh.
David looked at him, eyes full of tears. “Can I come to your wedding?”
“You’re the new best man.”
“I’d be honoured.
From behind them, a Jenova caught up with their slow pace and sliced David in half. He dropped Paris with a gurgle, and then blood dribbled from his mouth. The two parts to his body fell to the floor without a scream.
Paris saw the Jenova plunge a claw into his chest, but he felt nothing. His mind began to drift, floating like the clouds which hung over the land. He turned his head with a lot of effort. Three-hundred yards from the Iron Curtain. From safety.
He still remembered the gentle sobbing of his girlfriend as he held her and told her everything was going to be fine. They had made love that same night, desperately, passionately, revelling in every minute, cherishing each second.
“I love you...” he whispered.
The world plunged him into darkness.

-
Ariken made it back to the Iron Curtain just in time. A few minutes later they had to shut the doors to keep the hybrids from coming in.
He would never forget the screams of those outside as they were cornered by the Jenova and hunted down.
We’ve betrayed them, haven’t we.
Someone forced her way through the men going up to the top of the Iron Curtain and smiled at him thinly.
“Hey.” said Yuffie. “How’s it goin’?”
“My squad is dead.” said Ariken. “Can I join yours?”
“No.” said Yuffie quietly. “They’re all dead too. Gawd, we’re losing a lot of men. I hope Hamilton knows what he’s doing.”
“He knows.” said Ariken. But he hadn’t a clue if it was the truth.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“Pray, I think. Pray hard, and hope for the day to end.”

-
Barrett looked down at the hybrids pounding against the Iron Curtain. It was impossible, but they had already made several huge cracks in it’s surface. He estimated about five hundred of them were all around the concrete wall chippin’ away at it.
Ah, well. This would give the pussies somethin’ to take their anger out on.
“Light it!” he bellowed.
The order was passed along the line, and the torches dropped into the oil below.
Barrett had to shield his eyes as the whole horizon seemed to erupt.
The six-hundred and ninety-one Jenova encircled round the bottom were incinerated slowly.

-
Sephiroth was mildly surprised. Mr. Hamilton had far more intelligence than he had first given him credit for.
The randomly placed mines had so far taken out over fifty hybrids, and the predictable stunt he had just pulled then gave him slight credit. But for a General of his calibre... had he really expected Sephiroth, on the eve of victory, to make foolish mistakes? If he had, then he was sorely mistaken.
Fools. The whole of humanity was probably cheering now. Let them have victory, for a short lived victory it would be. They seemed to be unable to see the neatly assembled Jenova that were massing just in front of the blazing wall of fire. They would play their part soon enough. But first...
Sephiroth chuckled when he imagined the horror on their faces.
“Call up the Midgar Zoloms.”

-
Alfred saw the Zoloms come out from the bushes. Once more, he had seen the enemy movement.
First, the invasion fleet over Wutai, and now this...
He thought he was up for a medal, at least.
The Zoloms were far different from their usual state. Now over Forty-feet long, almost three-hundred of them were advancing fast on Fort Condor.
The Iron Curtain looked puny when compared to their incredible size.

-
“Move the artillery into place.” ordered Hamilton. “Aim it at the Zoloms and fire a ceaseless barrage. Load every single plane we have with explosives and get them to dump it over the Zoloms. I don’t want a single Zolom to be reach the Iron Curtain, is that understood?”
The Commanders responded by shouting orders down through the mike.
Aeronnist turned to Da-Li. “I just received word. Anderson is dead.”
Da-Li said nothing, kept his face impassive.
“I hope you realise now how foolish it is to go down there when we have so many responsibilities at the top.”
“Supreme General Hamilton, sir!” said Da-Li sharply. “I request to be allowed onto the field of battle to avenge the death of General Anderson, sir.”
Hamilton sighed. “Request denied.”
“Sir?”
“That’s not a very respectable way to speak towards a higher-ranking officer. Because of your insubordinate behaviour, you are demoted to Captain. I suggest you go down to the battlefield and do the job your new rank demands of you.”
Da-Li smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
And he was gone.
“Well.” said Hamilton, turning to an exasperated Aeronnist. “I guess it’s just me and you.”
There was a loud explosion outside as the first artillery barrage began.”

-
Alfred taxied back into the Fort Condor runway and began to open the hatch before the radio crackled to life.
“Alfred, old man. Change of plan. We’re fitting you with a payload of bombs, and you’re going to dump them onto the Zoloms, okay? Then you’ll come back and do it again.”
“But-”
“No fucking buts! I don’t give a shit about anything you say: if the Zoloms come anywhere near here then we’re all dead. Now get your ass into gear. Now.”
Arthur waited for a few minutes as the bombs were crudely strapped to his flimsy plane.
Then he took off again.
Back towards the monsters he had just got away from.
“Smart move, Arthur.” he muttered to himself as he took off and soared back into the sky.

-
One by one they fell.
The Midgar Zolom was hard to kill, but not indestructible.
The artillery barrage took it’s toll. Slowly but surely, as the Zoloms forged recklessly on.
Planes swooped down from above, raining bombs down upon their target. And Zolom by Zolom each creature staggered, then slipped behind the others, and then finally was blown to oblivion as whole arsenals of bombs smashed them into unrecognisable pulps.
Was it enough? Arthur thought as he killed yet another monster. There were still a good hundred of them left as they neared the Iron Curtain.
It’s not enough, it’s not enough...
As he dropped his final bomb, and travelled back to the runway, Arthur uttered a silent prayer that their efforts had been in vain.

-
Sephiroth managed to smile. These pathetic Zoloms could win the whole thing for him if he got them close enough.
Charge ahead! he told them. Break through the Iron Curtain, and the armies of Jenova will follow!
And they complied. They had too. They had no choice...
In his jubilation, Sephiroth did not notice that he had over-extended himself: that he had fallen into Hamilton’s trap.
He did not notice Cloud Strife standing defiantly in front of the Midgar Zoloms, a single summon materia shining a deep red in front of him.

-
The Zoloms made a funny screeching sound as they approached him and the Iron Curtain. Hamilton’s plan was crazy, and dangerous. But they had no choice... Cloud stood bravely erect, thrusting his hand into the air.
He had not used this summon in a long, long time. He was afraid of what it would do.
But now he had now choice.
“Gaslastius Summinines Knights of Round.”
For a moment there was a dead silence. Then, the Universe seemed to split.
Cloud found himself surrounded by stars and distorted light that seemed to fragment from some point far away.
And the first of the knights came.
He swung his sword and then moved through the Zoloms, slicing twenty of them apart in a single stroke.
He was gone, and another warrior took his place. Cloud looked in awe at the knights: they seemed to be miles high.
The summon in his hand glowed red hot, but he held on to it fiercely. He started to smell burning flesh as the magic reached it’s peak. Clenching his teeth together, he held the materia orb even tighter...
The lights and screams stopped and everything was black. The silver suited knight moved up to the hybrids silently, and raised his sword.
His downstroke sliced the air in two, and there was a final deafening roar as his cape seemed to flow like blood upon the final Jenova. There was a crack, and the strange world was gone, smashed into a thousand pieces.
The orb shot out of his hand and hovered in the air for a second. He could literally see the crystallised Mako erupting inside it.
He jumped for cover as the glassy ball exploded into a million shards. The fragments peppered his armour and stung the back of his head.
Sephiroth had fallen for the trap.
Not a single Zolom stood alive.

-
Sephiroth’s mouth hung open in a silent roar of anger as the Zoloms were torn apart by thirteen knights.
The same thirteen that had killed him five years ago.
He tried to gulp down some air, but he was too stunned. He stood at the top of the hill for a brief second before he sheathed his sword and walked slowly to the bottom.
Only one person could have the stamina to cast a spell of that magnitude.
Cloud...
Cloud would die a thousand times over in a world where Sephiroth was God.
“Attack.” he told the hybrids.

-
The momentary fortunes ceased from then on.
Hamilton watched satisfyingly from the observation bubble on the top of Fort Condor as the last of the Zoloms were wiped out.
“General.” he said, turning to Aeronnist. “I believe-”
He paused, puzzled by the strange expression on Aeronnist’s face.
Aeronnist stood gaping out of the observation bubble. His eyes bulged and he made a funny gurgling sound that may have been a scream of frustration. His face was a pallid yellow.
“What?” said Hamilton, turning round. “Aeronnist, stop-”
The words caught in his throat and he stood still, looking out over the dull horizon.
Six thousand Jenova vortex’s opened inside the Iron Curtain. Out of each one came a hybrid. Hamilton could almost hear the confused shouts of Commanders, the screams as men were surrounded and ripped apart.
“How?” whispered Aeronnist. “Why didn’t they ever do that before?”
Hamilton saw it all now. It was so simple.
“It was all a deception from the very start.” he answered calmly. “I didn’t think that they could only travel between well-springs of Jenova-Lifestream. Or Wutai and Junon. But... I was wrong...”
Hamilton’s gamble had failed.
The army started to collapse as one by one, men threw down their weapons and ran.

-
His entire squad had fled when the Jenova started to come out of the vortex’s. Devlin holstered his shotgun and pulled a grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin out and threw it at a vortex that was opening just a few meters away. There was a terrific explosion, and the wormhole abruptly closed.
He ran swiftly back to a defensive bunker. Inside, a small, red-haired soldier lay shivering inside. Devlin looked at him in disgust.
“Get up, kid!” he shouted.
The boy stood. He looked about seventeen.
“Name and rank?”
“Adam... and I’m an ensign.”
“Uh-huh. Are you injured, kid?”
“N-No, sir.”
“Then help me lock this door before they all start piling in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Devlin heaved the door shut and locked it with a thick bolt.
“Right. Now get the mortar in position. Is there anyone else here?”
Adam shook his head. “No, sir. The rest of my team ran off.”
“And you stayed? What are you, stupid?”
“No, sir. Just... scared.”
He looked so ashamed. Devlin shrugged. “What, you think I’m not?”
“You don’t look it, sir.”
“Ha. Listen, Adam: I want you to guard the door while I get this mortar ready. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Devlin ripped open a wooden crate and pulled out a high-explosive shell. He popped it into the mortar and fired it out threw the bunker view-point. A few seconds later there was an explosion.
“Anyone coming through, yet?” he grunted as he heaved in another shell.
“No, sir.”
“Okay, you fill up the mortar, and I’ll get on the radio, find out what the fuck is happening.”
“Sir?”
“What?”
“Do you think we’ll get out alive?”
“Dunno, kid. But we’ll go down fighting, right?”
Adam didn’t answer.

-
Tifa spun her leg around in a roundhouse that snapped clean through the hybrids neck. She motioned to her troops to follow her as she cleared a path to the Iron Curtain.
Another hybrid fell dead at her hands. It screamed and collapsed at the base of the Iron Curtain. She drove her fist into it’s skull, satisfied by the noisy crunch as the face caved in.
Four more hybrids converged on her dwindling men. Three fell dead before the rest scattered, running over to her.
“Matoriolis Death.”
There was a cloud of smoke that emanated from the ground. A skeletal reaper hewed it’s ancient scythe across the Jenova.
They fell to the ground silently.
“Get in one of those bunkers!” she shouted to the remaining men. “I’ll open the doors.”
They followed her orders without question: right now she was the only thing that was keeping them alive.
“Hello!” she screamed into the speaker on the left of the door. “Let us in! It’s Tifa Lockheart here, let me in!”
She knew the man on the other side was listening. He could here his breathing.
“Did you hear me?” Tifa yelled. “I said let me in!”
The man, or whoever it was, cut her off.
They were afraid of opening the doors... pitiful.
Could it be that the hybrids were inside the Iron Curtain?
She kicked the wall in frustration and turned to the men who were busy scrambling into a bunker.
“Come with me!” she shouted. “We’re retreating back to Fort Condor!”
“What?” cried in man. “But that’s over a mile!”
She took off over the mud at astonishing speed.
“Then run, cos we have no friends here.”
“What’s happened here?”
“It’s fallen to the hybrids.”

-
Delvin slammed down the phone on it’s receiver.
“Fuck it!” he screamed.
“What, sir?”
“We’re on our own, Adam.” Delvin said. “Just you and me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that Fort Condor doesn’t give a shit about us anymore. We’re on our own. Just keep firing the mortar and I’ll figure out something, okay?”
“Yes, sir.”

-
“We’ve lost contact with seventy-two per cent of the armed forces, sir.” said Aeronnist weakly. “I think it’s safe to assume that every one of them is dead. Or will be dead in the next twenty minutes.”
“And what about the Iron Curtain?”
“Hybrids somehow managed to Teleport their way in, I don’t know how. We estimate the entire wall will be lost in one hour.”
“Where are Cloud, and the others?”
“Unknown, sir. Maybe we should re-”
“No!” said Hamilton angrily. “If we lose this, then there is no second chance. There is no running. If the soldiers die, then we die with them.”
Aeronnist was silent. “Da-Li has been killed, sir.”
“When?”
“Six minutes ago.”
“Aeronnist?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Regroup all the men we have back at Fort Condor. Hopefully, we’ll take some Jenova out while we retreat.”
“Anything else?”
Hamilton looked at everyone: they all expected him to tell some master strategy, something that would win the battle, just like when he fought at Junon. But there was nothing he could do. The human race was out of options.
“No, Aeronnist. Signal the full retreat.”
A soft rain had begun to fall.

-
Barrett almost jumped out of his skin when three massive Jenova piled onto the roof of the Iron Curtain.
Then he got mad when they started to rip his men apart. He aimed his gun-arm and fired, wincing at the recoil of the powerful cannon.
The Missing Score let off three pulse-torpedoes that homed in on the individual hybrids. All three torpedoes punctured the hides of the monsters and embedded themselves inside the body. Then, on Barrett’s command, they all detonated at once. Purple blood rained down on the Iron Curtain as the three Jenova died.
There was a cheer from the men and Barrett held up his hands in appreciation.
“Thanks very much.” he said gruffly.
The cheers turned to screams as six more Jenova burst up through the roof and converged simultaneously on the soldiers. There was sporadic shotgun fire and one of the hybrids lost critical balance. Another cartridge impacted against it’s side and it fell to the fiery oil pit fifty feet below.
Barrett reloaded his gun-arm and aimed it at the nearest hybrid.
“Fall back!” he shouted to the hundred men left.
The grenade rounds hit the concrete just beneath the creatures, but it was more than enough. The stone-like material shattered under the shockwave, and metre long shards of concrete sliced through the Jenova, peppering it with massive wounds. It staggered towards him for a few steps, the died as gallons of blood poured from the wounds.
The remaining five hybrids galloped towards him and the soldiers at high speed. All of the men readied their shotguns and waited for the command to fire.
Barrett waited until they were at point blank range before shouting “open fire!!” at the top of his voice.
There was a deafening sound of gunfire that made Barrett’s ears ring dully, and all five Jenova flew back in the air. Three fell off the wall altogether, the last two sank to the ground and did not get up.
Barrett guffawed and slapped one of the men on the back.
“Good job. Now what the hell where they doing in here? This place is supposed to be safe! I’m gonna go see the Commander and ask what the hell is goin’ on.”
Less than fifteen seconds later, seventeen Jenova smashed through the concrete underneath the men. Barrett felt an unrivalled sense of vertigo as he plummeted down the gaping hole and back into the Iron Curtain. He managed a vulgar string of abuse before he hit the bottom and fell unconscious.

-

The men next to him threw their shotguns to the ground and fled.
Nanaki could see why.
A pack of three hundred hybrids were moving towards his squad of eight-seven men. Quickly, he recounted them all. Fifty-three. Thirty-four of his men had fled before the enemy had even been engaged.
He shook his head in disbelief, and roared.
“Fire at will!”
The shotgun barrels erupted again and again, and the Jenova started to fall. But not nearly enough were dying. Even Red could see that.
“Move back!” he shouted. “Move back!”
The men started the run, firing wildly behind them. No more Jenova fell to the ground: the shots were all missing by considerable amounts.
But that wasn’t his plan. If he could just lure them a few hundred meters more...
They reached the minefield, the hidden explosives triggered to explode only when a weight of over five-hundred pounds was pressed against it. The men ran over safely, and Nanaki bounded uneasily across.
“Hold position and open fire!” he roared.
The men turned round and fired again, the pump-action shotguns wreaking devastation on the hybrids.
Then they reached the mines.
The first few hybrids seemed to almost reach the middle before they triggered one off. Explosions would randomly detonate across the landscape, Jenova vanished amidst highly focused fragmentation blasts.
But they still kept coming.
Nanaki realised that he had under-estimated the toughness and speed of the hybrids. They were soon reaching his men, and panicked screams began to emanate from the lines.
The formation began to dissipate, and the Jenova pursued with terrifying speed. Men were harvested like a crop, their fresh bodies falling to the floor. Blood turned the mud a ruddy brown.
Red roared in anger, as he leapt upon a hybrid and tore it apart.
“Retreat!” he cried, turning tale and running back to Fort Condor.
In his way, lay more legions of Jenova.

-
“Mr. Devlin, sir?” called Adam. “The mortars are used up.”
“Well, just guard the door, son.”
The precise timing of the hybrids almost made Devlin laugh. They smashed through the door and tried to force their way through the smallish bunker entrance.
Adam yelled in fright and let off a shot into the head that had just poked through the door. The creature screamed, then lay still.
“Wow.” said Devlin, impressed. “Good shot. You’re first kill?”
“...Yeah.” said Adam.
“Well, I guess you’re younger than me, and you’ve got a family to go to.” Devlin said slowly. Adam was amazed at the how casual the man was. “I guess... you’d better go. Get out through the back, and don’t get seen.”
Adam stared at him for a moment. “Thank you, sir. You’ve saved my life.”
“Ah, it was nuthin’. Now get lost, you’re bothering me.”
Adam nodded and ran out.
The dead Jenova was pulled out and another hybrid poked it’s head in. Devlin shot it off and laughed.
“C’mon, ya buggers! I can do this all day, if I have to.”
It was then he realised that he’d ran out of cartridges.
“Crap.” he muttered as the next monster crawled through the door and into the bunker.

-
Nicholas threw himself out of the way as the horde of Jenova fell upon his squad. He unclipped a grenade from his belt and aimed for the seething mass of hybrids. He ducked, and waited for the explosion.
It came, along with a satisfying scream from a Jenova.
He counted up his kills.
He believed that was his fourth.
He raised his head briefly and shot at another monster, the buck-shot landing on it’s leg and sending it crashing to the floor. He reloaded and fired again and again. After six shots to the torso it stopped writhing about.
“Five.” he muttered briefly.
There was not much left of his squad, now. Nicholas was not surprised: they had been massively outnumbered from the start. He began to get worried. He had lost sight of Anthony.
“Anthony!” he shouted. “Anthony, where are you?”
He sat back deeper into the small trench, afraid that he would draw the attention of the Jenova that were fighting close to him.
Above the noise of the battle, Nicholas heard the dull, monotonous sound of helicopter blades. Slowly, the sound increased to deafening proportions as three ex-Shin-Ra choppers descended on to the skirmish.
The Turks had arrived, just in time.

-
Reno whooped out loud as he ordered the ‘copter driver to fly low over the battle. Taking control of the chain-gun that stood on the side of the craft, he aimed at one particular hybrid and pressed the trigger down for a six-second burst.
The Jenova’s body shook violently and purple blood came spraying out from the thousands of bullet-holes that riddled it’s body. It staggered about for a moment, taking random swipes at the helicopter, before six shotgun rounds hit it from three different angles.
Reno spoke into the loud speaker to the remaining troops on the ground.
“This is Reno. Get out of here quickly: we’ll cover you.”
The men scrambled over the muddy landscape and headed for Fort Condor, which loomed in the distance about a mile away.
Elena brought her chopper close to his and pointed down at the retreating men.
“Fort Condor is being attacked, I’m going back with Rude.” she mouthed.
“Yeah, I’ll stay here for a bit.” he mouthed back.
The chopper swerved around and headed back to the mountain-like structure in the distance.
Reno looked down in disgust. The few men left were being easily killed by the hundreds of hybrids. His pilot turned round to him, his expression hid behind pilot gear.
“Sir, we have three airborne hostiles approaching us on radar. It is advisable that we retreat.”
Great. Flying Jenova were the last thing he needed.
“Sir? Are we going to pull back?”
Pull back, retreat, disengage. That’s all they ever seemed to do. They just didn’t have the man-power to combat Jenova.
“Pull-back.” he said. “Go and help Elena and Rude hold the Fort.”
He sat back in his chair and swore. If they kept this up, they’d all be dead in an hour.

-
Nicholas almost cried as the Turks disengaged. Three men next to him stood up in outrage.
“Don’t just abandon us!” they cried. “Don’t leave!”
Nicholas slunk away from the trio of men: pretty soon the hybrids would come searching the trench, and then they’d all be dead. He turned the corner and opened a door to a small bunker. Next to him lay seven gutted bodies. Another soldier lay to his right headless. Nicholas held his nose: the stench was unbearable.
He walked up to the bunker and stepped cautiously over a dead hybrid. he rapped on the door twice, but there was no answer.
Inside was dank and rustic. Nicholas switched on the lights and almost threw up.
A man lay motionless on the floor, about him lay six hybrid corpses. Every single one seemed to have been incinerated, he didn’t know how. The entire bunker was charred, parts were even on fire. A heavy smoke smell, mixed with burnt flesh became stronger as he moved further in.
There was movement and he jumped, swinging his gun around. The man at the edge of the room coughed and opened his eyes.
“Who are you...” he gasped. Hs voice was grated and slurred.
“Nicholas. And you.”
“The Nicholas? The one... who got the vaccine...”
“Yes, your assumption is correct. Now who are you?”
“I am Devlin.” said the man. “And I got about ten minutes to live, I think.”
Nicholas looked over his wounds: they were horrific. The man had burns all over his body, and ugly blisters had blossomed over his torso. His hands were bloody stumps.
“Did I-” he coughed violently. “Did I... get the buggers?”
“Yes. Six hybrids, to be exact.”
“...How are we... doing?”
“Good.” he said.
“...Liar.”
“Well, maybe we are not winning-”
“That bad, huh? Listen, if we win... then come back here and bury me next... to my wife... they executed her three months ago because she had the Cancer... she’s in the graveyard C... row 18... grave... 113... her name’s... Callo...”
Nicholas nodded. “I will, Devlin.”
“Promise... me.”
“I promise.”
“Thanks... I won’t forget it.”
Devlin coughed one final time. Blood spurted out from his mouth and he cried out in anguish.
“Nicholas... kill me...”
His passing would be a painful one, thought Nicholas. It would be the humane thing to do.
But there was too much risk. If the gun-shot was heard...
“I am sorry.” he said. “I can do nothing.”
Devlin stared at him, horrified.
“...Why...”
Nicholas said nothing. He got up and sat on the other side of the room while Devlin drowned in his own blood.
I cannot do anything. I cannot...
Don’t listen, Nicholas. Don’t listen to him. It’s your life or his...
He never forgot the man’s screams.

-
Anthony struggled to his feet and pushed the carcass that lay on him to one side.
The explosion had left a dull ringing in his ears that seemed to drown out the other noise. He staggered slowly to his feet and tried to dispel the feeling of nausea that threatened to make him vomit.
The disorientation faded and he raised his shotgun. Looking about for signs of his squad, Anthony ran over to a nearby trench and jumped inside.
He must have blacked out. There was nobody in the direct vicinity, though through the smoke he could see flashes of smoke.
So it wasn’t over yet.
He got up, and touched his face with a shaky hand. There was slick a wetness where his ears where. Slowly, he brought his hands up to his eyes. Blood.
The ringing had gone now, there was only an eerie silence. He got up from the trench and started to run.
Fort Condor stood tall in the distance, the peak just rising above the layer of smoke that had settled over the battlefield. Anthony slowly looked around him: this land was obviously Jenova territory now. The bodes of soldiers lay littered everywhere. Some were moving. Most were not.
He got up slowly. He estimated he was about three to four hundred yards away from the front line of the battle, though it was hard to tell without his hearing.
And where was Nicholas? Probably dead. Anthony looked back to the Iron Curtain in the distance: maybe he could go there? Chances were that it was already swarming with hybrids.
He suddenly felt very cold. The rain was falling heavily now, the clouds hung low like some impending doom. Picking up his shotgun, Anthony moved back to Fort Condor.
He did not hear the vortex open up behind him, did not see the cloaked man step out.

-
“Are you so foolish that you do not turn to face your attacker?” called Sephiroth at Anthony.
Anthony ignored him and plodded on.
“Soldier!” Sephiroth said, drawing his sword. “You will answer, or die.”
And still, the man paid him no attention.
Sephiroth ran swiftly up to Anthony and sliced off his arm just below the elbow. Anthony screamed in surprise and whirled round.
“You will pay for your insolence!” shouted Sephiroth, laughing cruelly.
But the blank expression on Anthony’s face portrayed no fear. He held the bloody stump of his left arm calmly.
“I am sorry, Sephiroth. But I have lost my hearing as well as my arm.”
He drew the sword that hung at his belt.
“I knew this moment would come, Sephiroth.” he said, unnaturally loudly. “And I have been waiting for it for six long months. Do you recognise this sword? Six months ago you fought my friend, Craig. And your accursed virus caused his death. Now, I shall repay the pain you have wrought on him a thousand times.”
With a single arm, Anthony leapt forward and hacked at Sephiroth’s body. It was a crude swing. Probably because his opponent lacked an arm. Maybe he was not accustomed to the sword in question. It was certainly a strange design. A thick, rounded blade curved slightly at the top with a bronze-coloured hilt. A poor weapon, nothing like the Masamune. Sephiroth smiled and hooked his giant weapon up, glancing Anthony’s Scimitar away and then bringing it back down in a swallow slash that opened the side of his enemies face.
Hooking his sword around, Sephiroth followed it up with a quick snap of the blade that pierced Anthony’s thigh. He staggered away, gasping.
Sephiroth relished the fear in his eyes: the utter disbelief as his confidence faded into terror.
He stepped forward to finish the pitiful swordsman off, and it was then that he made his most critical mistake.
Anthony smiled and darted forward with super-human strength. He flicked the Scimitar down, driving the Masamune to the floor and leaving Sephiroth vulnerable. His leg kicked back and then slammed forward into the caped man’s face, sending Sephiroth reeling. There was a crunch as Anthony’s thigh splintered from the impact, but he drove on, grabbing the Masamune and heaving it aside. Sephiroth’s beloved weapon left his grip and he felt fear for the first time. He darted away, but he was not quick enough.
Anthony swung the Scimitar at his left leg. Sephiroth shouted in fury as the sword easily pierced his leather  armour and sank into the flesh. He swung his fist up in an uppercut, driving metal-plated knuckles into Anthony’s chin. With a cry, the man fell backwards, dropping his blade.
Sephiroth scooped up his sword and placed it gingerly on Anthony’s throat.
“You have been judged, scum.” he spat. “Die, knowing you could not defeat me.”
Instead of plunging the sword in, Sephiroth whipped it quickly across.
Anthony choked as blood and flem sprayed out from his split neck. He gurgled in frustration and Sephiroth laughed.
“Do not worry, your death will seem like bliss to the others left alive when I rule this Planet.”
Anthony’s lips turned purple as he suffocated. He threw up blood which lay in a puddle on his battle tunic and around the mud. Finally, his eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted, convulsing violently on the floor. Spasms wracked his ruined body, and after a few seconds, he lay still.
Sephiroth hacked off Anthony’s head: a final insult to the man who had defied him. He tossed it aside carelessly, and it landed in a shallow puddle, the face contorted into a silent scream.
“Worthless parasite.” muttered Sephiroth as he walked towards the front line.

-
The Death Penalty shot again and another Jenova fell dead. Vincent looked back to the waiting soldiers and beckoned for them to move forward. The clustered round him and he counted the remaining soldiers from his original three-hundred.
Twenty-nine remained.
“There’s too many of them.” he told the troops. “And we cannot fight on open ground like this. We’re retreating to Fort Condor... move out.”
They all started to run back to the base, and Vincent followed behind, deep in thought.
They had lost already, in his opinion. There were simply too many of the Jenova: to win they would need double the amount of soldiers available. Things were so desperate that when he went back to Fort Condor he seriously considered asking Hamilton for the elderly and children to draft up as recruits.
He kept up with the men easily: they were all exhausted: the battle had been short but incredibly violent. It would take generations for the blood to wipe clean from this soil. The rain fell thickly now, and he grimaced. It was becoming more and more difficult to retreat. But for now, at least, they were momentarily devoid of enemies.
They were a good half a kilometre from the front line, now. Vincent looked back and saw the soldiers desperately keeping back the tide of horror threatening to overwhelm them.
He hated to think what was happening to the men inside the Iron Curtain.

-
Tifa didn’t know whether they had lost or what, but by the simple miracle that the sky was not bleached purple and the Apocalypse had not started, she guessed that they were just holding on by a thread.
They had made good progress back to Fort Condor at first, but she had slowed them down after the rain had started to fall. Also, a lot of the hybrids had a nasty tendency to hide in the trenches and then attack when it was too late for Tifa to do anything about it. Thirteen men had died as a result of her carelessness.
She didn’t blame herself: how many more had survived because of her strength?
There was a shout from the front of the line, and she rushed forward, fearing the worst.
“What is it?” she asked breathlessly.
A pale faced Lieutenant looked at her. “Miss, I think you had better look at this.”
It was Anthony, his head had been severed by a sword.
The Masamune.

-
Cid wished he hadn’t rushed back into the Iron Curtain as soon as the Jenova had started appearing. Now he wished he was outside.
The cramped rooms made it almost impossible for the troops to hold back the Jenova. Each end of the defence was headed by Barrett and himself, but in another thirty minutes the two ends would meet each other, and then it would be game over for them all.
He stabbed his spear at the head of one Jenova that was busy climbing through a cramped passage. He lobbed a grenade down there and ran to the other side of the room.
There was an explosion and half of the ceiling collapsed. The rubble blocked up the whole of the entrance, making it impossible for anything to get past.
At least, for a while. The hybrids always made it through somehow...
Ah, well. That bought them another few minutes to think of some crazy plan to win this battle.

-

~ Strength and Logic combine! ~
~ Follow the Storm-bringer in battle! ~
~ Stray not from the paths set! ~

Hikahi let out a shrill battle cry and drove forward into the ranks of hybrids. The overwhelming tide of evil seemed to be stemmed by the water-god, and Yuffie rose defiantly on Hikahi’s back, her Conformer slicing dozens of heads at a time.

~ Come, warriors! Join me! ~
~ To me! To me! To me! To me... ~

The soldiers cheered and advanced. Jenova seemed to fall and run in terror as they were slaughtered in the hundreds. For the first time in the battle, the men felt a fresh surge of hope. Helicopters rumbled overhead as the Turks rained bullets upon the Jenova. The Leviathan swung it’s mighty tail and crushed the hybrids instantly. Yuffie even allowed herself a triumphant yell. For a brief moment, the tide turned in their favour.
The apparent good fortune was short-lived, however.
The Jenova froze and retreated backwards into a circle around the soldiers. For a moment the only sound was the heavy breathing of Hikahi and the soft sound of the rain.
Then the Jenova vortex opened, and Sephiroth appeared.
There was a gasp from every single soldier. Sephiroth grinned and looked at them coldly.
A gunshot echoed through the silence as a shotgun opened fire on the caped figure. There was a blur as Sephiroth dodged the bullet with ease. He pointed his katana toward the frightened man and the sword shone brightly.
“Geshultus Fire.”
The man screamed as his hands erupted into flame. The stench of burning flesh soured the air as the soldier’s face melted. He collapsed on the muddy ground, a blackened lump of charcoal.
Sephiroth looked at the rest of the men questioningly, as if daring them to attack him.
No one made a move.
Except Cloud.
Sephiroth sighed as the man walked defiantly up to him.
“This settles it, Sephiroth.”
“Indeed. This time, I shall hew my revenge from your flesh.”
“Do you think I’m afraid of you?”
“I think you are terrified.”
A rare fury took hold of Cloud. His hands shook with anger as he held his Ultima Weapon in front of him.
“You killed Aeris... Reeve... everyone at Nibelheim... this is for them. This is for Aeris.”
Sephiroth smiled as Cloud stood shaking with fury.
“Ah, yes. I killed Aeris. And you know what, Cloud?”
He moved up to him and whispered slowly in his ear.
“I... enjoyed... it.”
Cloud swiped at Sephiroth with his sword. Laughing, Sephiroth twisted to the side and motioned to the hybrids standing motionless.
“Kill them!” he screamed hysterically. “Kill them all!”
The two sides rushed forward to meet each other.
The final battle had begun.

-
Cloud hacked away at Sephiroth’s arm as he moved forward, pressing on the attack. He sliced the blade upwards, knocking the Masamune from his rival’s grip and leaving Sephiroth temporarily vulnerable. His eyes widened in surprise and he turned away as the sword sliced towards his chest.
He laughed as Cloud lunged again. He jabbed his fist towards Cloud’s face, and then scooped up his Masamune. Cloud fell back, stunned. Sephiroth stood again and rushed towards him.
Cloud nursed the large lump that was swelling beneath his left eye, and then swept his blade up to meet with Sephiroth’s katana.
The two blades clashed, and for a moment the two men were illuminated among the battlefield. Then they broke away and the glow vanished.
Attack. Parry. Cut, slash, cut. Defend. Parry. Attack.
A perverse thrill began to coarse through Sephiroth. This was what he lived for. The only time he felt truly alive was when he fought equals on the battlefield. He blocked Cloud’s quick slash and retaliated with a downward jab that knocked Ultima Weapon to the ground.
A heavy foot connected with Sephiroth’s jaw and he cried out in anger. He swept his leg across the floor and hooked away his opponents leg. Cloud slipped and fell into the mud.
Sephiroth brought the Masamune thrusting down. Desperately, Cloud rolled away and flipped back up to a standing position. Sephiroth moved backwards and waited for him to attack again.
For a moment the two stood facing each other, each gasping for air as the constant battle took it’s toll. Then, they were running swiftly towards each other, swinging swords wildly in full circles, each trying to gauge the others weakness.
Cloud knew from the start that he would lose to Sephiroth. Frequent bouts of fury engulfed him, and he lost control. Three times now he had made critical mistakes. Three times he had come close to death.
Calm down, Cloud...
But he couldn’t. No matter how much he tried. Every time he regained control, he though about Aeris. About the look on her face as Sephiroth brought the blade down...
He lost control again and sliced away at the caped man in a horizontal slash that aimed to open up his bowels. Sephiroth jumped clear and rolled to the left, swiftly swinging the blade round in a full circle and slamming it against Cloud’s sword.
Masamune and Ultima weapon glowed again. Cloud broke off, exhausted. Taking the initiative, Sephiroth pressed on the attack.
The two men engaged in a furious, prolonged attack. To onlookers, it seemed as though the men where a blur of light and sound as hit after hit was blocked, counter-attacked, and then blocked again.
Cloud fell back again, the continuous fight sapping his strength. He moved forward once more, his face determined and grim. His blade stabbed forward and then up in a Climhazzard-style move that twisted the Masamune to an odd angle. Cloud let go with his right hand and snapped it down onto Sephiroth’s elbow. Sephiroth cried out in agony and slammed his heel into Cloud’s shin.
Both of them retreated temporarily, Sephiroth nursing his snapped arm, and Cloud clenching his fists as his chipped shin bled profusely.
There was a crack as Sephiroth tried to move the broken bone back into place. He screamed in pain, but flexed his arm and held the sword again. Cloud gasped. His endurance must be incredible.
Sephiroth attacked with renewed strength and Cloud found himself being forced back and back. Sephiroth laughed as Cloud was worn down slowly as the intense showdown reached it’s climax.
Sephiroth swung his Masamune down low in a surprise move that caught Cloud off guard. He jumped...
But not quick enough. The katana sliced easily through his boots and he screamed with pain. He landed on the floor again. The freezing rain began to seep in to his shoes, mixing with the blood of the long cut down the side of his foot.
Sephiroth lunged again, this time at his heart. Just in time, Cloud desperately brought up his sword, the Masamune deflected and impaled his left arm.
Cloud grunted, too stunned for a reaction. He walked back and touched his arm gingerly. The wound was deep: crimson blood ran down his shirt to the already red water below.
Sephiroth grinned and launched another savage onslaught, this time a sweeping uppercut that threatened to open Cloud up from head to toe. Cloud faltered under the relentless attacks, he staggered back and struggled to breathe.
Suddenly, it was all over as Cloud slipped in the thick mud and fell down, his sword spinning from his hand. It was all over. Sephiroth had won.
Calm yourself, Cloud...
But he couldn’t. He had lost, the taste of defeat lay heavily in his mouth.
I’m so sorry... Aeris, I’m sorry I couldn’t win. Tifa... I’m sorry. I wasn’t good enough. Not in the end...
Sephiroth laughed and placed the Masamune gently on Cloud’s throat, as he had done to Anthony.
This was the moment he had waited for all his life... the day when he could finally hack off Cloud’s worthless head from his puny shoulders. How he wanted to lift the severed head to his lips, and drink the salty blood inside. To taste victory finally...
“It is Destiny, Cloud.” he laughed. “It was Destiny that rose me from the dead, it was Destiny that caused us to fight. And it was Destiny that caused me to be the winner. You cannot escape Destiny, Cloud. No one can.”
Sephiroth smirked as he raised his sword.
“Prepare to be judged, Cloud. And die slowly, knowing that you have failed. That I will ultimately rule beside my mother for eternity.”
For the first time Cloud’s mind went clear. His vision blurred, and he opened his eyes.
Aeris stood sitting on a small rock beside him. She smiled as he looked at her, but said nothing. He wanted to cry out ‘where am I?’ but no sound emerged from his lips.
“Cloud,” she said gently. “Cloud, you can’t give up, you can’t lose. Too many dreams lay upon your shoulders. Too many hopes rest upon your soul. You must win, Cloud. For Tifa... and all those who have died. For me.”
He wanted to cry. To hold her in his arms and tell her it was fine.
“Live, Cloud.” Aeris said softly. “Live, and win.”
She got off the rock and walked away. His eyes snapped open and he looked at Sephiroth, his eyes gleaming, his sword raised.
In a brief second he twisted away as the Masamune came down, and hooked away Sephiroth’s leg. He cried out and fell to the floor. Cloud flipped to his feet and scooped Ultima Weapon from the floor. He ran at Sephiroth quickly, the gap between them shortened considerably in a fraction of a millisecond. Cloud attacked once more, but not with the blind fury as before. He was simply calm. Cold, calculating and remorseless. His sword came up and then down, and then up again in a furious movement that left Sephiroth reeling.
Again and again he attacked, driving his foe back in a deadly whirlwind of swords.
Sephiroth jumped away, stunned. What had happened? On the very eve of victory, his prize had turned on him with extraordinary power.
Cloud’s strength was inhuman, his speed devastating. It was impossible, no one could move as fast as he did. It was not possible. Not possible...
Cloud was a demon. Sent by God himself to forever torment Sephiroth and smash his dreams. He almost laughed at the irony of it. How Cloud had become his greatest nightmare.
Cloud began to feel attuned to his blade. He no longer moved it: it moved him. He seemed to watch as an onlooker as his body moved faster than he could possibly imagine.
The Masamune flew from his grip, and Sephiroth felt the link with his mother shatter. He stared upwards, his face contorted in a grotesque horror, as Cloud swung back his sword and impaled him. He screamed and collapsed in the mud, his life ebbing slowly away.
He beckoned for Cloud to bend down, so he could tell him. So he could tell him all his efforts had been in vain. The look on his face would be something that Sephiroth would cherish long after he died.
Cloud bent down slowly. He hesitated. Did he want to hear the last words of a dying man who had killed the ones he loved?
Yes, he decided. He had to know. He just had to.
Sephiroth grasped him weakly, the bloodied stands of silver hair flowing in his face.
“You are... too late...” he gasped. “She is everywhere. Mother... has... arisen.”
A bolt of purple lightning filled the sky and Sephiroth laughed. Cloud looked about him and saw that it was true. Jenova was alive once more.
He wept bitter tears as Sephiroth died and the Apocalypse started.

END OF BOOK THREE

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