How'd he get here? And where exactly was here? All the snow looked the same. He could be miles from civilization. Why couldn't he remember getting here, though?
The last thing he remembered was falling asleep during a movie and then a very weird dream.
It was strangely lucid, as if it were real. It was like one of his flashbacks. It was Lucrecia, this time, and nothing he'd ever experienced before. He could feel her touch. He could hear her voice, she sounded like she was in so much pain. The Jenova cells in her still wouldn't let her die and she wanted him to come for her, she said something about the Death Penalty being the only thing that could give her peace.
He was all for giving Lucrecia peace. He just wished he knew where he was.
He hoped he left a note or something.
How the hell was he going to get back if he had no idea why he was here in the first place? What was he going to tell Cid? 'Hi, I'm lost in the snow and I don't know why I'm here or how I got here?'
He heard a scream from above and looked up. Caves.
Despite how numb he already was, he began climbing. When he started to wonder why, the dream came back.
There she was, haggard and looked like she was almost already dead. Her clothes were in tatters, ice clung to her skin and clothes, her hair was full of knots and twigs and even rocks. One eye was scarred as they both looked at him. He felt her frozen hand on his face as she touched him. The skin peeled off as she took her hand away.
She leaned close, her frozen blue lips touched his neck.
'Help me,' she said. 'It hurts…'
It faded away and Vincent realized he had climbed all the way to one of the caves. He stood up and rubbed his hand against his cold, wet clothing. Surely he should have remembered to pack something warmer.
"Help me," he heard, from the back of the cave.
A figure moved out of the darkness and into the light. Lucrecia, just as she had appeared to him, but in the dream he never saw the thing growing out of her. Some ugly, bulbous growth had erupted from her back, oozing its way over her shoulder as if hugging her.
Vincent flexed his hand, trying to get circulation back. He just wanted to go home. He should be curled up on the couch now. He should be with Cid now. He shouldn't be wandering around in the snow. He should be…
"Lucrecia," he whispered.
"Don't come near me!" she yelled. "Don't. I just want to die. Please…"
He couldn't help but reach for her. He just wanted to touch her one last time. He just didn't want her to hate him.
Why was he here at all?
She reached out, her hand was all misshapen, covered with more Jenova growth and it was missing a finger.
She was crying. She touched his hand. She was crying so much.
He just wanted to go home. He backed away and steadied the gun with his good hand.
She didn't deserve this, and he shouldn't be the one doing it.
He closed his eyes and prayed he'd hit her dead on.
The gun went off.
He was surprised his fingers weren't too numb to pull the trigger.
He opened his eyes, afraid of what he'd see; afraid he wouldn't be back home. He was suddenly very afraid. Very, very, afraid.
'Help me,' he heard, in a mocking tone. But that wasn't right. She was dead. He'd blasted her head clean off, she shouldn't be talking anyway. She was still standing. Her head was piecing itself back together. Skin crawled up, framing her face while there was nothing to support it, bones re-knit themselves out of nothing, muscles and organs intertwined upwards as the vertebrae stacked upwards. The skull pieced itself together like a jigsaw puzzle, flesh and brain and blood and everything else pulsed, growing bigger and bigger, filling the cranium. An eyeball oozed into place in the socket… It started laughing at him, an eerie sound until the tongue fully regrew. "Help me…Vincent"
Things—arms, tentacles, long extending bulbous appendages—whatever they were, they hit Vincent and blasted him straight through the wall of the cave, spraying ice and tiny pieces of rock all over the side of the hill.
It all happened before he could think, let alone limit break.
There was a second of pain and everything went black before he could see the layer of ice and snow starting to move.
He never knew how he got there. He never knew why.
Now Jenova was free.