Content Preview

 Navigation  Front Cover Episode 1 Traces of Tifa Episode 2 Traces of Aerith Episode 2 Coda Picturing the Past     Guide  Cover Contents                                d_r0    FINAL FANTASY VII REMAKE   TRACES OF TWO PASTS    Contents    Episode 1 Traces of Tifa  Episode 2 Traces of Aerith  Episode 2 Coda Picturing the Past            The breeze over the grassy plain swept through Tifa Lockhart’s hair, reminding her of home. When she’d been living in the village, her hair had remained forever tousled by the winds howling down from Mt. Nibel. Walking just ahead was Aerith Gainsborough, who gestured widely at the sprawling grasslands and asked, “Hey, are you used to this kind of stuff?” Tifa had only met the other woman a few days earlier, but she found her easy to talk to. In fact, within hours of first meeting, they’d already been chatting and joking like old friends. Another gust swept the plains, sending waves rolling through the grass. Tifa turned to face the way they’d come, catching the wind at her back as she did so. The amount of distance the party had covered surprised her. When Tifa returned to walking, Aerith had moved close to her side. “You mean, have I ever seen endless fields like this before?” replied Tifa. “No, I mean the walking. Hours and hours of it. First the badlands, and now grass.” “I don’t mind it, I guess. It’s good cardio.” Aerith laughed. “Everything comes down to exercise for you, doesn’t it?” “If I had a choice, though,” continued Tifa, “I’d take a hiking trail in the mountains over this. At least that way the scenery changes as you go along.” “Right?! Ever since we left the city, it’s like we’ve been walking in circles. It never ends! I used to dream of having a picnic in a wide-open field, but if this is all the grasslands have to offer, I think I’ll pass.” “I’d say this is closer to hiking than a picnic. Picnics are about sitting down to eat and having fun.” “Does that mean you’ve been on one before? A real picnic?” “Sure I have.” Tifa thought back on the days she’d spent as a child in the village. “I mean... sort of,” she clarified. “They were like picnics. We just used a different name.” “Yeah? What did you call them?” Tifa’s cheeks flushed, and her gaze fell as she answered, “Tea parties.” There was an amused snort. Tifa looked up in time to see a ripple of laughter work its way through Red XIII’s leonine pelt. The beast─for he was a beast, at least in appearance─flicked his flame-tipped tail from side to side as he walked. Though Tifa had accepted him as their traveling companion, she had to admit she was still unnerved by the dissonance between his appearance and his humanlike speech and intelligence. Aerith’s eyes sparkled. “Tell me more! I wanna hear all about your tea parties!” “Sure.” But even as she answered, Tifa realized she wasn’t quite sure where to begin.      Nibelheim was a tiny village at the base of Mt. Nibel. It had always been a modest community, established first as an unnamed base camp for prospectors whose gil-hungry eyes fixated upon the mountain’s unique flora and fauna. Even after Nibelheim had proven itself a nominally permanent fixture worthy of a name, it was still little more than a basic settlement in the wilderness, consisting of a few households offering room and board to adventurers making their way up the mountain. It wasn’t until the community attracted the attention of Shinra Manufacturing that it started to resemble a proper village. The company was in search of a site to conduct top secret, cutting-edge research far removed from the prying eyes of the Republic of Junon, and Mt. Nibel seemed the perfect choice. It was 1960, one year following the discovery of mako energy, and Shinra was anxious to investigate all potential uses of this new resource. Construction began on the facility that would come to be known as the Shinra Manor. Next came the Nibel Reactor, a massive undertaking that saw the tiny mountain village flooded with laborers from across the country. If Nibelheim ever achieved anything resembling prosperity, those were the years. But by 1968, construction of the reactor was complete, and the itinerants had moved on. Only a tiny research crew remained, along with a small number of civilians contracted by Shinra to maintain its new facilities. Life in Nibelheim grew quiet once more. Over the years, the facilities’ remote location became more of a drawback than an asset. As the reactor aged, Shinra saw no need to update it, instead throttling operations until the reactor was all but offline─at least in a practical sense. The village, with no other industry to fall back on, saw its population dwindle. Everything depended on Shinra. The only money flowing in came from fees paid by the company for land-use rights, barely supplemented by the wages earned by the ever-shrinking contingent of maintenance workers. Nibelheim’s entire existence was tied to a couple of worn-down facilities that the company seemed ready to do away with at a moment’s notice. The villagers agreed that something had to change. They debated endlessly over ways to secure their community’s future but failed to find a clear path forward. Ultimately, their voices and ideas were as fleeting as any of the angry gusts sweeping down from Mt. Nibel’s foreboding peak.      “There were only four other kids around my age in the village, and they were all boys,” explained Tifa. “We had our own little clique,