After pressing the emergency signal on his PHS, Tseng eyed at the mural-covered walls of the Temple of the Ancients' innermost chamber. The camera equipment he and Elena had brought was still set up, all record of the Temple's secrets stored on rolls of film. He halted for a moment and looked down at his left arm, clutching his chest. The dark sleeve of his suit jacket was soaked through with the even darker wetness of his own blood. Feeling his knees about to buckle, he slid down the side of the pillar he had been leaning against, breathing as steadily as he could and glancing again at the ancient pictograms on the opposite wall.
         His theory had been correct—the Promised Land was not what Sephiroth was after. He recalled the Black Materia as he examined the paintings, one of which seemed to depict a large round object hurling from the sky. Was this the Black Materia's spell? The one that would enable Sephiroth to meld with the planet?
         Tseng looked toward the archway where he and Elena had come in, hoping that she would return soon. Sephiroth had left him in bad shape, but Tseng was confident that he could pull through. That is, until he started hearing the voices.
         They were faint at first, floating past his ears, and then they grew louder and clearer, delving into his consciousness. Startled, he looked around him, but saw no one. Then, he felt himself grow dizzy, and ghostly wisps of green light fluttered before his eyes. He passed out to the bizarre melody of the voices.

         "----Are you sure you don't want me to go instead?"
         "Sasha, it's only an inspection job. I can handle it."
         "That's not what I mean. I know I have my own assignment to take care of, but you're the one who wants to capture the Ancient so badly. Perhaps we should switch."
         "No. I'll leave Aeris to you. Make sure she gets to Hojo this time, so that she can no longer corrupt my son."
         "By the way, how is Yoshiro doing?"
         "As well as he can, given the circumstances. This flu of his will render him unable to work for the next few days----"

         "----You… I can't believe you would just steal my Leviathan Materia like that! You knew I needed it for my research."
         "I would do it again, too… dumbass. Makes me wish all Shinra were as thick as you."
         "You dirty bastard, you snake. I trusted you."
         "Reno—what's—what's happening to you…"
         "This is my secret weapon, fucker. This is your punishment for fucking with my emotions."
         "Gahh—"
         "I'll see to it that your death is as painful as possible----"

         "----Ifalna, you're looking radiant today."
         "Thank you, dear. Our little Aeris is wonderful, isn't she?"
         "Yes she is. I felt so nervous when she was born."
         "You were more than nervous, you were a total wreck!"
         "Ha ha… I suppose I was. Well, I'm just happy now, so very happy to be here with my two lovely ladies----"

         "----Stop… him… He must be stopped----"

         Tseng's eyes slowly crept open. This voice was clearer than the others, and its owner was unmistakable. "Z… Zack…?" he whispered.
         "----Cloud Strife… must be stopped… Jenova… Sephiroth… are controlling us----"
         "Zack… what do you mean?"
         Faintly, the voice said, "----Cloud will destroy us all----" then disappeared altogether.
         "Zack! No… don't leave…"
         "Sir!"
         He recognized this final voice as Elena's. The ethereal cacophony receded as she drew near, her eyes wide with shock and horror. With Zack's words still reverberating in his head, Tseng simply mumbled, "Cloud Strife… must be stopped."
         As his eyelids drooped once more, he heard Elena rustling through their belongings. As he felt a familiar magical sensation engulf his body, he thought, She must be using her Restore materia. Oddly enough, the voices started again just as the magic was cast.

         "----The Ancients… do you really think they have the power to talk to the Planet?"
         "I honestly don't know, Mr. President----"

         Were these voices Tseng was hearing those of the Planet? Was he listening to the Planet, as Aeris had always been able to do? Why could he do this now, especially considering that he wasn't an Ancient, having no known Cetra lineage? Was it because he was about to die?
         He opened his eyes again and looked at the young Turk in front of him. She was carefully removing his jacket, in order to bandage him. Her high-level curative spell had helped to some degree, but he was still bleeding.
         "Elena," he murmured. "Thank you."
         She said nothing, remaining completely focused on her work. Tseng shifted just enough so that she was able to pull his jacket free from his shoulders.
         "You shouldn't move around too much," she sniffled. "Just hold still, okay?"
         "I'll try to, ma'am."
         Elena looked at him, her hazel eyes like saucers, glistening with moisture. Tseng smiled at her with what little strength he could spare. "What?"
         "Don't call me that!"
         "It was only a joke, Elena."
         "Well I'm not in the mood." She finished undoing Tseng's tie and, after the casting of another high-level cure spell, immediately started working on the buttons of his bloodstained shirt. "It's just that… it isn't like you to call me 'ma'am'."
         "Elena, do you know what my biggest regret is? That I'll never be able to get to know you—"
         "Shut up!" she cried. "Listen to yourself! You're talking like you're fucking dead already!"
         It took a moment or two for Tseng to process Elena's words in his oxygen-deprived brain. In his delirium, he had forgotten himself, forgotten who he was—a Turk, one who straddled the line between life and death. For the second time in his life, he remembered what the ritual with the two knives was truly about. It took a rookie to make him, the seasoned professional, realize that he had to survive, whatever the odds.
         Tseng said nothing more as Elena wrested his arms free from his shirt sleeves. She cleaned and padded the wound as best as she could, then took some gauze from her bag and began carefully wrapping it around his torso. Even after she had wrapped the entire roll all the way around his waist and taped it into place, small patches of blood were still seeping through. She immediately cast her cure spell again.
         "Elena," Tseng murmured, "I think that's enough."
         "Sir?"
         "Let's get out of here, shall we?"
         "Yes sir." Elena helped Tseng put his shirt and jacket back on, hastily re-knotted his tie, then wandered deeper into the room to pack up the camera equipment. "By the way… sorry I snapped at you."
         "That's okay. I wasn't in my right frame of mind, so I probably needed to hear what you said. At any rate, I'll tell you everything later."
         "Everything about what?"
         "My injury, what these murals mean, the truth behind Sephiroth's motives…"
         Elena packed away the last of the equipment and slung the bag across her shoulders. "Are you able to stand?"
         "With a little help, I probably can."
         She nodded and bent down to help Tseng to his feet, taking one of his arms and placing it across her shoulder. They rose up together, and slowly started to make their way toward the exit.
         "Tseng…" Elena said, "About that dinner date. You mean you really want to take me out?"
         Where did this come from all of a sudden? he thought. "Sure. That is, if you don't mind."
         "Well, I don't. It's just that… uhh, I'm not sure you even like me, so…"
         Tseng sighed. "Elena, I might as well be honest with you. I do like you, and think we can be great friends, but nothing more than that."
         He felt her slouch slightly beneath his arm. "I suspected as much," she said. "So why did you ask me out? I hope you weren't just taking pity on me."
         "Not at all. It was part of a plan to set you up with a friend of mine—someone we both know rather well."
         "Oh… I see…"
         "You do know who I'm talking about."
         "Yes, of course."
         "Then, will you do me the honor of going on a date with him sometime? I'm sure it will make him quite happy. I believe he's a good match for you."
         A shred of doubt seemed to cross Elena's face for a moment. "You think so?"
         "Absolutely."
         By this time, they had come out of the Temple and were now standing at the altar, gazing out over the jungle canopy below.
         "You should go get help…" Tseng muttered as Elena set him down at the foot of the altar. She remained kneeling in front of him. "Go break camp, round up the chocobos, and call Junon."
         "But what about you?" Elena asked, concerned.
         "Dear Elena…" Tseng replied, reaching out an arm to stroke her cheek. He could see the tears welling up in her eyes again. "Leave your Restore materia here and I'll take care of myself. Please don't worry about me." Carefully he pulled her closer and kissed her on the forehead. "I can't go any further right now… not down those stairs. Now hurry…"
         "Yes, Tseng," she replied, her voice filled with a new sort of resolve. "I will."
         Elena removed her Restore materia from its slot on her Minerva Band and pressed it into Tseng's hand. She took off down the stone steps, but not without a glance back at her leader halfway down. At a hurried pace, she turned around and was gone.

         As Cloud and Aeris disappeared into the heart of the Temple, Tseng sat off to the side, wondering if he had done the right thing by giving them the Keystone. If Zack's words were true, and Cloud was a very real risk… but no, Aeris trusted Cloud. This was made especially clear to Tseng during her scoldings. It was true that he had been a bit overbearing in his playing "big brother" for all these years, but he didn't know that it had irritated her that much. Perhaps she had guessed at his "other" reason for using Cait Sith? Regardless, Tseng could perceive the love and forgiveness in her eyes—all for him—when she joined Cloud at his side and descended through the Temple's entrance. She appeared distressed, but not sad or scared, which didn't surprise him. If there was one thing he had learned about Aeris after all these years, it was that she had neither fear nor hatred of death.
         Tseng, on the other hand, regarded death with animosity. Death had taken away so many people he had known—his mother, early in his childhood, and his father, far too early in his manhood. Sasha, his fellow Turk, and friend. The elder President Shinra, his benevolent employer. And until recently, Sephiroth, his co-worker and occasional advisee in Peace Preservation. But now Sephiroth had somehow returned to life and wanted to destroy the world.
         His eyelids grew heavier, and eventually, Tseng gave up the struggle to keep them from drooping. He let his muscles relax as he closed his eyes, yet he did not intend to sleep. Rather, he remained in a state of immobile wakefulness, fully aware of the world around him but unable to do a thing about it. After an indeterminate stretch of time spent in this state, he heard a scratchy and slightly high-pitched voice gasp his name. It was Cait Sith.
         A moment later, Tseng felt himself being raised up from the sandstone by two large, oddly-shaped arms. A gloved hand, much smaller than those that now carried him down the steps, gently brushed its fingers across Tseng's face, setting some loose strands of hair back in place.
         Then the steps ended, and, as Tseng felt himself being lowered to the ground, he heard another set of feet coming toward them.
         "You're Elena, right?" he heard the cat ask.
         In a strained tone, the other replied, "Yes. And you're Cait Sith, the spy?"
         "Yep. Tseng's alive, but he looks like he's in bad shape."
         Tseng heard some shuffling, then felt Elena's knees touch up against his prone arm, and two of her fingers gently press against one side of his Adam's apple. After a moment of silence, Cait spoke up again.
         "Listen, ahh… I wish I could stay and help, but Cloud's expectin' me in there."
         "What? You mean AVALANCHE is in the temple? But how?"
         "Tseng knows. Maybe he'll explain later."
         A noticeable silence followed, which Cait Sith broke by saying, "I've gotta go. I have work to do. Bye Elena, bye Tseng."
         The very last thing Tseng heard was the bounding of giant moogle feet, heading back in the direction of the Temple.

*****

         Due to AVALANCHE's interference during his visit to Rocket Town, Rufus was still stuck on this so-called Great Continent. He was back in Costa del Sol to be precise, waiting to hear the latest from Tseng and Elena before deciding on his next move. It was early evening, and he was standing on the balcony of his father's old vacation home when his PHS rang. He answered it, hoping that this was the call he'd been waiting for.
         "Hello, President Rufus Shinra speaking."
         "Mr. President, sir," came a flustered voice from the other end of the line, "this is Elena Terry of the Turks… I have some terrible news."
         "What is it?" Rufus asked calmly, well aware of this woman's tendency toward dramatics. "Did something go wrong at the Temple of the Ancients?"
         "I… I'm afraid so, sir. It's Tseng… he's dead. Someone attacked him while we were in the Temple. H-he didn't make it."
         Rufus' expression flattened. This was not at all what he had been expecting. He lowered the PHS slightly, took a deep breath, then resumed his conversation with Elena.
         "Where are you right now?"
         "Junon, sir… The Highwind came by to pick us up. I'm told they only just finished repairing it, sir."
         "Right. Tell everyone we'll be back in Junon as soon as possible."
         "Yes sir."
         Rufus hung up, took another deep breath, and walked back inside the villa. He felt absolutely nothing inside of him at that moment—no joy, no sorrow, no spite, no remorse. He was as cold as a reptile, but it was the only way he could feel; nothing else would do.

         After calling Heidegger and Palmer with the news, Rufus made arrangements for the cargo ship currently in port to take them back to Junon. It was a quiet ride back, and they didn't reach their destination until very early the next morning. Reeve stood on the dock, alongside Scarlet, Reno, Rude, and Elena. A thin mist hung low over the water.
         "Welcome back, sir," Reno greeted. Neatly dressed in his Turk suit, complete with tie, Reno's manner of dress was unusually sharp, matching the equally off-kilter seriousness of his voice. "I'm sorry that you had to rush back here like this."
         "It is unfortunate that we have to temporarily put our plans on hold, but that can't be helped," Rufus replied. "So where is he? I wish to see the body."
         Reno stared back at Rufus, without saying a word. Then, he pinched his eyes shut and said, "Right this way, sir."
         The redhead started leaving the dock, and everyone else fell into step behind him. For awhile, Rufus walked alongside Reeve and Scarlet, but then Reno turned back and said, "If you don't mind, Mr. President, you should come join me here, up front."
         "What?" Rufus asked. "Why?"
         "He's right, sir," Heidegger said from behind him. "It wouldn't look right to go walking back into town back here with us. You should be up front, with the interim Head Turk, to show your rank and solidarity."
         Rufus cleared his throat. "Right. Well…" He briskly walked up to the front of the procession, past Elena and Rude, to walk beside Reno, both arch-rival and soon-to-be Head Turk.
         As they came onto the Dock Corridor, Reno leaned closer to Rufus and murmured, "I need to talk to you later in private, if possible."
         "What for?" he growled.
         Instead of snapping back with some smart comment, Reno simply replied, "To discuss the funeral arrangements, sir. Tseng had dictated some special provisions in his will that you should be aware of."
         Rufus nodded once, and turned his attention back to the road ahead of them. He didn't like the sound of there being "special provisions", but he didn't see the point of worrying about them right now. All he wanted was to see Yoshiro's corpse for himself.

         Yoshiro "Tseng" Kawaguchi lay on the examination table of the auxiliary medical facility located within Junon's central offices. Elena had refused to enter the room, and most of the others could only bear to set eyes on the body for a brief moment. Rufus, however, stared at it in morbid fascination, recalling the time when Yoshiro's father had been the one partially covered by a thin, grey sheet. Tseng's skin was pallid, an aftereffect of the embalming process he had gone through, and on his face was a faint but unmistakable smile. Rufus found himself wondering about this smile, and what it meant. What exactly had been going through Tseng's mind the moment he died?
         After a few minutes of silent reflection, Reno spoke up, asking all of the chairpersons and Rude to leave the room. Once they did so, Reno turned toward Rufus.
         "Elena told me that she doesn't know who the killer is," Reno reported, "but she did mention that Tseng said something to the effect of 'Cloud Strife must be stopped'."
         "So Cloud killed him?"
         "Maybe. The wound on Tseng's chest was made with a slender, thin blade, so it could've been Sephiroth. However, Cloud and his friends were in Wutai not too long ago; they could have acquired a murasame while they were there."
         "You saw Cloud in Wutai? Why didn't you stop him?"
         "It's a long story. Besides…" Reno coughed, "…we were on vacation."
         "Oh yes, of course," Rufus deadpanned. He wanted to glare at Reno, to communicate his disgust over Tseng's choice of successor, but he couldn't find the energy to do so. "Now, you wanted to talk about funeral arrangements?"
         "Yes, but I'd rather not do it here…" Reno said, looking down on Tseng's prone form, his fingers lightly tracing the corpse's face and neck. Rufus found himself struck by the sadness he perceived in Reno's expression. A couple of tears escaped from the Turk's eyes and silently rolled down his cheeks, which for some reason gave Rufus an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. The President sighed, "Let's go, Reno."

         "How did you feel about him?" Rufus asked, leaning against a desk in one corner of the small President's Office on the left side of the War Room, not far from the facility where Tseng's body lay. He hadn't been expecting Reno to say anything, which made the Turk's reply all the more surprising.
         "I loved him… as a boss, a mentor, and a friend," Reno replied, his unnaturally colored eyes locked with the President's gaze. "Few people have done as much for me as he has. He was everything a Head Turk should be."
         "Following in his footsteps must be a daunting challenge for you."
         "Not really, sir. He's groomed me for this position, so I'm prepared, but I plan on doing things my way. That's the one thing I want you to understand: I am not Tseng."
         Rufus nodded, a newly-found anxiety creeping into him. He saw that Reno shared Tseng's qualities of intelligence and raw skill, but he also recalled the latter's words at the top of the lighthouse back in Costa del Sol. Indeed, Reno had his own approach to things, one that could backfire against Rufus if he wasn't careful.
         "So," the President started, changing the subject, "about the funeral arrangements…"
         "Yeah. The instructions Tseng left me were fairly flexible, but he did include one provision that he insisted must be followed, no exceptions."
         "And that is?"
         "Your absence from all the funeral proceedings, including his burial. He made no mention about my induction as Head Turk, so I guess you're allowed to be present there."
         Rufus pondered this for a moment, then nodded. A surprising provision, but not entirely unexpected. "Well, can't say I blame him, though I must admit that I'm tempted to break that request."
         "Sir, I'm sorry, but I can't allow that. You mean to tell me that you won't honor a dead man's wishes?"
         "You have no idea what this 'dead man' once meant to me."
         "Sorry, but I don't give a shit."
         Rufus raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Is that any way to talk to your employer?"
         "That's beside the point. Once I'm Head Turk, I'll carry out your orders, but I can't allow you to dishonor Tseng's memory. I'll enforce his request if need be."
         "Very well," Rufus replied. "Oh, and about Reeve…"
         "What about him?"
         Rufus could sense something deadly buried in Reno's reply. This might be tougher than he thought.
         "Once you're promoted, you'll have a lot more responsibility to deal with. So don't let your feelings for him get in the way of your work."
         Reno widened his eyes momentarily before answering through clenched teeth, "I'd heartily recommend that you do the same thing, sir."
         They glared at each other for a few pensive seconds before Rufus asked, "Was there anything else you needed to discuss with me?"
         "Not at the moment."
         "Fine. Dismissed."
         Without so much as a reply, Reno turned around and marched out of the room. Rufus pulled himself up on the desk and sat there, thinking about the exchange that had just taken place. Their rivalry was no longer imaginary, it was out in the open, but Rufus was no longer certain if this was a good thing or not. For Reno was unlike any Turk—or Shinra employee, for that matter—he had ever known, and that unsettled him.

*****

         The following morning, the executives, Turks, and various upper-level Shinra officials bid Yoshiro Kawaguchi his final farewell. Speeches were given, fond memories of Yoshiro were shared, and a fair amount of tears were shed. Rude found it especially difficult not to be stirred by Reno's eulogy; despite the redhead's casual manner of speaking, it was hard not to sense the pure emotion in his words. At one point, Rude looked to his side and saw that Elena was especially moved, her tears speaking immeasurable volumes. Silently, hesitantly, he placed his arm around her shoulders, and she eased into his touch, leaning against the side of his body.
         After the ceremony, a formal procession took place from the central offices all the way down to the Airport Path. The pallbearers—Reno and Rude of the Turks, and representing the executives, Heidegger and Reeve—led the way to the airport, while all along the streets, members of SOLDIER, Shinra managers and MPs, and civilian shopkeepers bowed their heads, saluted with their swords and guns, and whispered amongst themselves. Rude remained as focused as he could on the path ahead, wondering where President Rufus was at the moment, and if he was watching. It looked as though Rufus had followed the will's instructions after all.
         They soon reached the airport, where the coffin was carefully lifted on board the Highwind. The executives and Turks followed, and they all flew off to the Midgar coastline, where the Shinra Military Cemetery was located. A few people who had not been able to attend the service in Junon were already there when they arrived; among them were Choco Bill and his grandchildren, Mayor Domino of Midgar, and—most curiously—Professor Hojo.
         After all was said, and Tseng was buried beside his father in the sparsely-populated Turks' wing of the cemetery, the party from Junon boarded helicopters that had flown out from Midgar to escort them all back to Shinra Headquarters while the Highwind began its return trip to the fortress city. Rude shared a helicopter with Reno and Elena; aside from a few polite comments about the funeral service, none of them talked very much during the entire flight to Midgar. In the meantime, Rude stared out the window, remembering the boss and friend he had always known as Tseng. Somehow, his thoughts turned to the superstition Elena showed some concern about in Wutai. Rude couldn't help but wonder if, somehow, Tseng's demise was indeed due to this particular curse.
         They arrived at the Shinra Building, where the gathered executives dismissed him and his comrades for the rest of the day. That evening, there was to be a formal gathering at the Shinra Ballroom, a hastily-arranged party in honor of his own and Reno's promotions, to Second Turk and Head Turk respectively. The three Turks went their separate ways and promised to meet each other at the party.
         Later that evening, Rude met Reno at the ballroom's front doors, where he was greeting and chatting with various guests. The redhead took a break from his duties to address Rude.
         "Hey, good to see you, man."
         "Same here. Elena hasn't come yet?"
         "Nah. Seems she's running late."
         Just then, a cab pulled up and Elena stepped out; like the others, she was wearing her dress uniform, a black suit and tie with a royal blue shirt.
         "Hello Elena," Rude greeted, while Reno waved.
         She smiled wanly at the two male Turks and returned their greetings with a mere nod. Reno asked Elena, "You okay?"
         "Yeah. I've just been thinking about a lot of things, that's all."
         Reno took a step closer to her and gripped her shoulder. "Well, don't think too much tonight or you won't have a good time. Relax a little, okay?"
         "I'll try."
         "Please do."
         Elena nodded again and walked into the ballroom, leaving her companions still standing there. Rude watched her go, concerned about her well-being and wondering what the future had in store for the Turks.