FFVII: Before Crisis Novelization

by ChocoboCowgirl

Chapter 1: Introduction

Welcome to the Before Crisis segment of my FFVII Compilation Novelization. While I have been working to write out every entry in the compilation, BC has been the one I've seen the most interest in. So, I’ve decided to go ahead and share it.

Before we get started, there are a few things you should know:

1) Before Crisis was a mobile only game that was never released outside of Japan. There is no official English translation of the game. To write this, I utilized two sources: one was the translated playthrough videos done by user GrimoireValentine on Youtube. The second was a translated script archived by TurkLeader {https://turkleader.tumblr.com/bcepisodes }. Their translations vary slightly, but both were invaluable resources in my work.

2) In the game, the Player Turk can be any one of ten optional characters. As far as I am aware, there is no official canon Turk for this story. Therefore, I chose from the optional Turks based on preference and used different ones for different missions as I saw fit (I tried to give as many of them as I could at least a little screen time). Also, I used the names given in their concept materials (don’t know if those are “official”, but I thought it sounded better than just calling them after their weapons and I didn’t want to make up my own names for them.)

3) Did you know BC is supposed to be revisited in Ever Crisis? I may make modifications to my novel depending on the extent to which it is addressed in EC.

4) Before Crisis and Crisis Core overlap quite a bit timeline wise (large chunks of them happen over the same period of time) so there may be some CC content sprinkled in here from time to time.

5) This baby weighs in at about 57 chapters so I hope to be able to upload 3-5 chapters a week so as to get it all out to you in a timely manner. Thankfully, I already have it all written! The perfectionist in me just has to give each chapter one last proofread before posting.

6) Before Crisis is only a part of my entire novelization. My story is written chronologically, so different parts of the compilation are sometimes scattered among others. There are 2 stories from BC that take place before the other events, occurring as minor flashbacks in later chapters. I am opening this work with those 2 events as they will help explain later events in the story and that is the order in which they appear in my complete novel.

Chapter 2: Episode Tseng, part 1

[1997]
[Costa del Sol]

The young Turk crouched motionless at the head of the docks and cautiously peered around the crate that concealed his form. A rare wrinkle marred his usually smooth forehead as his narrow eyebrows pinched together in intense scrutiny. His dark, slightly tilted eyes scanned the line of ships in the harbor. He subconsciously lifted his hands behind his head and tightened the short ponytail of ebony hair tied at the nape of his neck while he mentally reviewed his mission. Two days ago, a guard from one of Shinra’s mako reactors had been reported missing. The man’s record showed he was in good standing, so abandonment of his post was unlikely. Signs of foul play at the reactor indicated a kidnapping. Tseng’s mission was to bring the man back and find out why. It was theorized that the man was taken for the knowledge he may have regarding the reactor. Preserving the man’s life was assigned top priority. His commander, Chief Veld, also known as Verdot, had hand-picked him for the assignment.

Chief Verdot was a stern man, who was officially titled the Head of the Department of Administrative Research, less formally known as the Turks. His unforgiving and sometimes ruthless nature demanded the respect and utmost dedication from his employees. Tseng both feared and idolized the Chief. Failure of this mission was not an option.

Halfway down the dock was the company ship he had been ordered to investigate. While bearing the Shinra ensigns, the ship itself was not listed on any of the company’s log books. That fact in and of itself was enough to raise a red flag. It was the Chief that suspected that the mysterious ship and the disappearance of the reactor guard might well be connected. Several anti-Shinra activities had surfaced as of late. Needless to say, the company was not well-liked by everyone on the planet. There were many who would like nothing more than to see its downfall. It was the Turks’ job to see that it never came to that. Tseng took a deep breath of the cool night air, tightened his ponytail once more, and started down the dock towards the ship.

The vessel was a metal clad beast, constructed similarly to Shinra’s other cargo ships. A ramp leading up to the hold was conveniently lowered to the dock, allowing him unimpeded access to the interior. He had observed the ship for half an hour from his position up the dock, and there had been no observable activity on the ship’s deck. As far as he could tell, there were no lookouts stationed. He peered cautiously up the ramp then made his way inside. With practiced steps, he weighed each footfall so as to climb the hollow steel ramp in silence. At the top, he stopped just within the dark interior to allow his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The lighting appeared to get brighter the farther in it went. He removed his radio and reported to the Chief.

“Sir, I have infiltrated the ship,” he spoke in clear but hushed tones. “Commencing search for the missing guard.”

“Good,” the Chief replied, his deep baritone voice filling the speaker. “However, we still lack any intelligence on the situation on board.”

Tseng could tell he was being tested. What did the Chief expect him to do next? “I’ll begin by locating the control room,” he decided and informed the Chief confidently.

“Of course,” Verdot agreed. “Any information you can find there might prove useful. But proceed with caution. Don’t forget that you’re in enemy territory.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng assured him and returned the radio to his belt.

Keeping his left shoulder along the wall, he made his way silently down the short corridor. Dampened clicks and clangs from elsewhere in the ship echoed eerily through the still air around him. He mentally muted out these unimportant sounds as he neared the first corner. The next hallway intersected the first and stretched out to his right and left. Tseng turned right, following his instincts to locate the front of the ship. At the next corner, he came face to face with a startled crewman.

The towering man stood several inches taller than the Turk. Overcoming his initial shock, he glared down at the Turk from his full height. Tseng quickly spotted an ingloriously designed “A” emblazoned on the red scarf tied around the man’s neck. What did it mean? He had little time to ponder it. Tseng reacted first, punching the man squarely in the jaw. As he went down, he revealed a second guard coming up quickly behind him. He was armed and was already in the process of raising his weapon. Withdrawing his own pistol, Tseng shot the man dead before an alarm could be raised. An alarm was unnecessary. His bullet was loud enough to bring out another patrol.

Tseng ducked back around the corner as they rained down bullets on him. When the air cleared, he rolled out from behind his shelter and shot in the direction of his enemy as he made for the refuge of a steel drum positioned halfway up the hallway. As the enemy took up arms again, their volume sounded diminished, and Tseng knew he had taken a few down. He looked out from behind the barrel and shot at the remaining two gunmen, taking one with each bullet he fired. Then, taking advantage of the still moment, he quickly made his way to the door leading to the next section of the ship.

Pulling the thick steel door shut behind him, he proceeded to make his way up the eerily silent corridor, pistol cocked and ready by his right ear. The hallway ahead was empty. He stood still momentarily to listen for any miniscule sound that might indicate an enemy presence. Detecting nothing of the sort, he began checking each room off either side of the hall. None of them housed the control room. At the end of the hall, he came to a locked door and proceeded to pick the lock, a skill every good Turk had to know. He pushed the door open and found the room mostly dark. A green glow came from several computer screens on the far side of the small compartment. He had found the control room.

Holstering his pistol, he stepped across the small space to study the monitors. Several data files were opened, but their meaning was not apparent by the seemingly random assortment of numbers displayed. They mentioned nothing about the missing reactor guard. He needed to locate the man quickly. Clicking his way through several programs, he found the ship’s surveillance system. Four cameras were displayed at a time. He cycled through several screens, stopping at the fourth set of images. He leaned forward to study the grainy pictures and could just make out a body lying motionless in an otherwise empty room. The man’s uniform was unmistakable; he’d located the missing guard. He checked the camera’s location then used the control panel to disengage the lock on the man’s holding cell.

Without bothering to close the programs, Tseng left the control room, weapon drawn. The hall was still empty. According to the camera’s program details, the cell was located at the end of the hall opposite the control room. Throwing caution aside, he opted for speed over stealth, wishing to collect the man and get off the ship before more enemy personnel arrived.

At the end of the hall, he located a door marked A03Z. The lock was disengaged, and it swung in easily but noisily on unoiled hinges. As he had seen before, the room was empty except for the man lying bound on the cold steel floor. A lone exposed light bulb hung from the center of the room, casting the hostage in a dim, grayish light. If the prisoner had heard him enter, he showed no sign of it. He laid motionless, either unconscious or perhaps wishing to be so. With slow deliberate strides, Tseng walked over to the prisoner and knelt beside him. Keeping his pistol drawn, he placed two fingers against the man's throat, checking for a pulse. Feeling a strong rhythmic throb against his fingertips, he hastily pulled the blindfold from the man’s face with his left hand.

As the wrap slipped off, it revealed wide, frightened eyes set deep within darkly bruised sockets. A trickle of dried blood trailed from his left nostril, and his left cheek was swollen up and pressing around his eye. The guard’s green neckerchief had been pulled up and tied through his mouth as a gag which was now cutting into his swollen face. A large portion of it had been darkened with blood. The front of the man’s blue jacket looked as though it had been pulled on repeatedly, evidenced by many tears and missing buttons. Even so, Tseng recognized the Shinra uniform and knew he had found his man. He pulled the gag out his mouth and untied the bonds holding his wrists and feet.

“You’re badly hurt,” Tseng observed as he worked on the knots binding the man’s hands.

“Who…?” the man asked him nervously, craning his neck to get a glimpse of Tseng bent over behind him. He was obviously shaken by his ordeal.

“I’m from the Turks,” Tseng assured him calmly, finally loosening the first knot. “I’ve been looking for you.”

A deep sigh escaped from the man as his body visibly relaxed. “Thank goodness…” he moaned, closing his eyes again and resting his head back against the floor.

Tseng noticed numerous bruises and cuts on the man’s face. There were undoubtedly more concealed under his tattered uniform. “From the looks of it, you’ve been tortured,” he sympathized with the guard.

“I’m… fine…” the man insisted through gritted teeth. “They… didn’t… get… anything… out of… me…” He tried to smile, despite the obvious discomfort the speech had caused him. He likely had a broken rib or two, making speech, and even simply breathing, painful.

“You’ve done well,” the Turk congratulated him, removing the final strand of rope from around the man’s ankles and standing up.

“Anyway… We’ve got trouble…” the man mumbled, struggling to sit up on his own.

The man’s words filled Tseng with mild concern. He knelt back down in front of the guard, balancing on the balls of his feet with his forearms resting on his knees.

“What do you mean?” he asked urgently, studying the man’s face.

“This ship… is loaded… with… Shinra weapons…” he spoke agonizingly slow. “I overheard… one of the men here… say…. they got them… off the black market.”

What!? Tseng processed the news inwardly, the expressions on his face never faltering. Someone must be diverting company weaponry. But who? And how?

“Did they say from whom?” Tseng asked, exuding a calmness he didn’t actually feel.

“No… If we don’t do something… The weapon data… will leak out…” the man insisted, still sitting limply at the Turk’s feet.

Tseng rose to his feet and stood in silence as he considered the situation critically. The plight with the stolen weapons threw his mission into a tailspin. He had not expected such a scenario, and he was sure neither had the Chief. Those stolen weapons had to be investigated to protect the company. It was his duty. However, his mission at hand was to get the soldier off the ship alive. Tseng quickly found himself torn between his duty to Shinra and the mission entrusted to him. The weapons matter would require further investigation, but that was not his assignment. He looked back down at the tortured guard.

“…No,” he finally concluded. “My job is to get you out of here,” he told the man, reaching down for him again.

The man pushed his hand away weakly and wheezed, “Don’t worry… about me… You have to… stop the data… from falling… into the wrong hands…”

“Right now, you take priority,” Tseng ordered, taking hold of the man's jacket and hauling him up roughly to his feet whether he liked it or not. “There’s nothing more valuable than a life.”

The man protested no more and accepted the Turk’s salvation, leaning on him heavily as he helped him stagger through the hallways of the ship. To Tseng’s relief, no more patrols had boarded the ship after his intrusion, and he was able to get the man safely back to the Shinra helicopter waiting on the other side of Costa del Sol.

* * * * * * *

[Shinra Headquarters, Midgar]

Tseng stepped across the threshold into the office of Chief Veld. The head of the Turks sat waiting at his heavy oak desk, his eyes already locked on his inferior. The middle-aged man had led the Turks for as long as any of his subordinates could remember. The demanding nature of the job had hardened him beyond his years, evidenced by the harsh lines gathered at the outer corners of his deep brown eyes and around his thin, tightly pressed lips. Stray strands of his pushed back hair fell past his eyes as he leaned forward to push himself up from his chair and lean over his desk. His subordinate came to a stop and stood quietly across from him, hands clasped loosely behind his back, face emotionless, much like he normally was. The younger man standing before him was one of his best, and as such, operated under stricter standards than his other men. Verdot expected nothing less from him. That’s why he was disappointed.

“You made the wrong choice,” Verdot reprimanded the young Turk, his deep voice biting and harsh. “Protecting Shinra’s secrets far outweighs the life of that soldier.”

Tseng stood meekly with his head bowed, his eyes on the floor in front of the Chief’s desk. He felt as though a ton of bricks had been placed upon his shoulders. Still, he fought to validate his choices.

“I prioritized the safety of the guard,” he insisted, daring to raise his eyes to meet the Chief’s.

“You fool!” Verdot thundered. “Was that what he wanted?”

The Chief’s booming voice quickly shattered any confidence the young Turk had managed to muster since the meeting began. Tseng considered the question carefully before answering, “…No.”

“Then why didn’t you destroy the weapons?” the Chief inquired, bringing his voice back down to a more conversational level.

“It was my duty to save the guard,” Tseng asserted, defending both himself and the success of his mission.

The Chief stared back at him. “Do you really believe that yourself?” he finally asked, bearing down on him with narrowed eyes. “All you did was give in to your own guilty conscience! You decided on your own to rescue him and neglect your real duties.”

Tseng took his reproof quietly, his eyes down.

“He only considered what was best for Shinra,” the Chief continued, “but you only considered your own ego and trampled on his pride… You’ve failed as a Turk,” he finished coldly.

He was quiet for a minute, giving Tseng time to realize what his actions could cost the company. He watched his young protégé as he stood motionless. Absolutely motionless. Not even a flicker of movement crossed his eyes. The only indication that he was a living thing and not a statue was the shallow rise and fall of his chest beneath his well-tailored suit.

“Come,” Veld finally spoke again. “We have been sent for by the President.”

The Chief stepped out from behind his desk and strode past Tseng without a second glance. He offered him no more explanation than that, nor did he owe him one. Tseng turned on his heel and followed the Chief several paces behind, keeping his gaze directed to the lush red carpet passing beneath his feet He managed to raise his eyes just enough to keep the Chief's heels at the edge of his vision as he led the way to the elevator outside the Turk offices. They made the short walk in complete silence.

Verdot pressed the call button, and the elevator doors slid open silently. The two men stepped inside – the Chief first, followed by Tseng. Verdot entered the security code necessary to access the presidential office and they rode up in silence. Tseng kept his eyes on the floor indicator light as it moved from left to right across the list of ascending floors, not saying a word. When the President’s floor lit up, a small bell dinged, and the doors slid open with a whoosh. Verdot stepped off of the elevator first and entered the office with Tseng following submissively behind.

The President’s office was located at the very top of the Shinra Building’s lone tower. It occupied the entire 70th floor. His desk, large and black, occupied the center of the space. Behind it, an expansive window spanned the entire wall from right to left and from floor to ceiling. The view it offered of the sprawling metropolis of Midgar was unrivaled. It was also unnerving to anyone uncomfortable with heights.

President Shinra sat comfortably behind his desk, watching the two Turks enter. He was an imposing man. Tall and barrel-chested, he had a no-nonsense air about him. He wore his icy blond hair cropped short, and a similarly trimmed mustache covered his upper lip. His eyes, blue in color, were skilled in the art of intimidation. He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted and would accept nothing less. He offered the Turks no words of greeting, but went straight to the matter for which he had called them.

“This is unforgivable! How can my company’s weapons be allowed to end up on the black market?” he thundered, pounding a fist on his desk for emphasis. “They are the pinnacle of Shinra engineering. Those weapons constitute classified company secrets. It’d be a disaster if they were to be analyzed in detail. We have to nip this crisis in the bud, Verdot!”

Before the Chief had a chance to speak, the President continued to lay out his own plan for resolving the issue. “I want the Turks to return to Costa del Sol immediately. You have three objectives. First, find out who the traitor is. Second, completely destroy any traces of the stolen weapons. And finally, erase any leaked data on the weapons. Make sure to carry out your orders to the letter.”

Chief Verdot accepted his orders with a slight nod. “Yes, sir. This time, I will command the mission in person. I will personally ensure that the weapons are destroyed. Tseng will handle the data erasure. Meanwhile, I already have another Turk working to track down the traitor.”

The President nodded to him with a stern glare, shaking a finger in his direction. “Failure is not an option,” he reminded the Turk.

Verdot gave the President a parting nod and left without another word. Tseng did likewise and entered the elevator with Veld once again.

“You and I will be working this one together,” the Chief said to Tseng without looking at him. “This is your chance to make up for your last mission. Take advantage of it.”

Tseng’s last failure was still on the surface of his mind, and the guilt of that failure clung to him like a shroud. He felt he shouldn’t go on the mission, but knew better than to voice his timidity to the Chief. Verdot would only look at Tseng’s overwhelming guilt as another weakness.

The elevator door opened and deposited them on the rooftop helipad. A stiff breeze hit them as they crossed the tarmac and immediately boarded a waiting helicopter. The Chief took control at the pilot seat while Tseng took the co-pilot chair. Working in perfect, silent unison, they prepared the chopper for lift off and took to the air headed west for Costa del Sol.

Chapter 3: Episode Tseng, part 2

[Costa del Sol]

The black helicopter cut its lights and landed in the early morning darkness on the company’s private helipad on the west side of Costa del Sol. The harbor was on the east side along the sea. The Chief ordered Tseng to lead the way, and the two of them passed through the town in silence. The place was unusually quiet, although the early morning hour would account for the empty streets. Normally, the tropical town, which was a popular holiday resort, was packed with revelers making the most of their vacations. Owned by the Shinra Company, it often sent its own employees there on paid holidays. As such, the town was spared no luxury. Filled to the brim with spas, entertainment, and luxurious accommodations, and coupled with a balmy climate and expanses of sandy beaches, the town was never hurting for business.

The two Turks passed through the resort silent as ghosts and without encountering a soul. They pulled up at the edge of the docks where they could see the enemy ship still lying anchored in the harbor. They ducked behind a vendor’s stand at the head of the pier as the Chief spotted a gunman stationed on the ship’s prow.

“They’re probably expecting us now,” the Chief lamented. “This would have been easier had you gotten it done the first time you were here.”

Tseng knew that his superior was wanting to see how he reacted to the painful reminder and managed to keep his emotions from showing. He could think of nothing to say and so said nothing at all. Meanwhile, Verdot reached inside his suit jacket and produced a polished black silencer which he swiftly attached to the barrel of his pistol. Rising over the counter, he took aim at the watchman. His shot dropped him without a sound, and the Turks continued towards the ship.

“I know you are wondering why I insisted on you taking this mission,” Verdot finally said to Tseng.

“Sir?”

“You must take responsibility for it,” the Chief explained without looking at him.

Tseng considered the statement and settled on giving the Chief the answer he knew he wanted, “…Yes, sir.”

“Besides,” Verdot went on quickly, “this is a dangerous mission. I can’t let you handle it on your own the way you are now.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng agreed humbly.

“This mission must be successful,” reminded Verdot.

At this point, they had reached the ship’s loading ramp and made their way inside. Before venturing further, the Chief stopped and turned to face Tseng. He looked him sternly in the eye. The direct attention made the young Turk uncomfortable, but he chose to bear it.

“Tseng, you have to cast aside your doubts,” the Chief reprimanded him. “Stand proud once more because you are a Turk. Mistakes will happen, but you can’t let them compromise the next mission. Remember, your mission now is to secure and erase any data on the stolen weapons. Even if the mission should put me in danger, don’t try to save me. Always give your mission full priority.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng replied quickly, grateful when the Chief’s gaze finally moved on.

“Security will be tight,” Verdot warned as he led the way forward.

“Yes, sir,” Tseng agreed. It seemed to be all he could say lately.

Both men had their handguns drawn and ready with silencers attached. Turning the corner, Veld shot down two more guards before they were even noticed. At the end of the corridor, the hallway split.

“Where did you find the control room?” asked Veld.

“In the hall to the right,” Tseng reported, indicating the direction with a swing of his weapon.

Verdot glanced in that direction then looked to the left where a flight of stairs descended to the lower cargo hold. “The data you seek should be in the control room,” he instructed his subordinate. “This is where we split up. I’ll look for the weapons down below.”

Tseng accepted his orders with a silent nod and ran for the control room. No other security stood between him and his destination. When he reached the room, he found the door locked this time. With a grunt of irritation, he backed across the hall before leading into the door with a well-placed kick. The door jamb fractured, and the door crashed inward. A man standing at the control panel spun around, a look of surprise twisting his face. Without hesitation, Tseng raised his pistol and pulled the trigger, placing a bullet squarely between the man’s eyes. The man collapsed silently to the floor, the shocked expression still on his face.

Stepping over the body, Tseng scanned the data displayed on the screen. Conveniently, it was the very data he was looking for. It appeared the man had been preparing to send it on to another buyer. The last line of entry indicated that all the files had been uploaded to a data disk. He would have to be sure to destroy the backup data too then.

His fingers flew over the keyboard as he began the erasure process. Final deletion of the data required breaking through a security code. Tseng had the weak protective barrier down in a matter of seconds and watched as pages of documents disappeared one by one from the network hard drive. A countdown timer appeared in the corner of the screen, indicating a wait time of five minutes for the process to run to completion.

As the procedure ran on, he retrieved the disk containing the backup data from the console tower. He held it up and studied it in the green glow of the monitor. The disk itself had no identifying marks to indicate its source of origin or intended destination. With no other use for it, he quickly snapped it in two and then cast it to the floor where he continued to grind it into unsalvageable particles beneath his heel. As he did so, a shadow fell across the open doorway behind him.

“What–!”

Tseng snatched his pistol from beside the keyboard and shot the man silent before he could get out another word. Turning his attention back to the monitor, he pulled up the surveillance cameras again. If there were any more enemy troops headed his way, he wanted to know. He scrolled through the list of cameras one at a time and paused at the fourth cluster of screens. He could see Chief Verdot had reached the weapons hold. The store room was absolutely filled with stolen weapons piled on overcrowded shelves lining the walls, as well as on several tables set in the center of the room. Rifles, handguns, heavy munitions, and security mechs made up the vast array of contraband.

Verdot stood with a large pilfered grenade launcher in his hands, turning it over to examine both sides. He suddenly tossed it back on the table before him and reached for the pistol holstered under his left arm as he turned to face the doorway. Tseng's eyes moved to the other images on his screen. Two of the other cameras outside the hold showed a large influx of enemy troops headed towards the Chief. Tseng watched helplessly on the screen as the small army reached the door. The first man through was met with a deadly bullet to the forehead. This gave the other men pause. Locating the intercom system, Tseng switched on the speaker in the hold. A loud buzz filled the room before the static settled down.

“Sir!”

“Tseng?” Verdot asked without taking his eyes off the doorway.

“Sir, are you all right!? I’ll be right there!”

“Wait!” Verdot ordered sternly, shooting another intruder in the chest. “What about the data?”

“The erasure is almost done–”

“Then don’t you dare come down here!” Verdot shouted vehemently. “Don’t leave that terminal until every piece of data is completely erased!”

“But sir–!” Tseng protested.

“Tseng! Have you forgotten?” Verdot paused to fire his weapon again. “Do you plan to make the same mistake again? What takes priority for the Turks? … …” When Tseng did not reply, he answered for him, “It’s not me!”

“Understood, sir,” Tseng replied unwillingly but obediently.

Switching off the surveillance system, he returned to the data files. He still had three minutes to wait. He leaned over the keyboard, his fingers drumming the sides of the desk impatiently as he watched the timer counting down. Three minutes felt like an eternity.

“Come on, dammit!” he growled as the timer crept closer to zero.

The counter skipped the last ten seconds and disappeared. A message reading “DELETION COMPLETE” flashed across the monitor. Moving quickly, he shut down the network and stepped away from the control panel. He unloaded three bullets into the console for good measure and then bolted from the room. Racing back the way he had come, he reached the point where he had split up with the Chief.

Sighting the stairs, he headed down, taking them three at a time as he checked his ammunition. At the bottom, the stairwell spilled out into a short hallway that ended in an open doorway. Several men still stood crowded around it, despite many lying dead on the floor in front of them. Tseng opened fire on the group, even though he had no cover for himself should he draw return fire. The two men at the back of the huddle took his bullets and fell forward into the other men. With the Chief firing on them from inside the room and Tseng on the outside, the men found themselves inescapably caught in deadly crossfire.

With the doorway clear, Tseng sprinted down the hall and leaped over the pile of bodies clogging the entryway to the weapons storage hold. Inside, he found the Chief with his gun raised at him. Tseng held his hands up in surrender as Verdot took notice of him and quickly lowered his weapon. Still, he glared at the young Turk.

“I told you not to come here!” he exclaimed, holstering his handgun. “What about your mission?”

“All clear, sir!” he reported, putting his weapon away as well.

Verdot’s expression softened, and he nodded in silent approval as he turned to examine the weapon stash.

“Now we only have to destroy the weapons,” Tseng recited the second point of their mission as he joined the Chief in examining the haul.

The table before them was laden with top secret military tactical equipment, some of which even he hadn’t laid eyes on before. Verdot tossed a large rifle back onto the table and placed a hand firmly on Tseng’s shoulder as he looked him in the eye.

“Thank you for coming for me,” he told the young Turk.

Speechless, Tseng only nodded. Verdot offered him a very small smile in return and looked again at the vast collection of weaponry gathered in the room.

“Let’s rig this thing with some explosives and send the weapons under,” he announced as he headed across the room.

Tseng watched the Chief curiously as he realized that they hadn’t brought along any explosives, at least none that he knew of.

“Did we bring any explosives?” he asked Veld cautiously, risking being ridiculed for such a question.

“No,” Veld answered as he approached a cylindrical tank in the corner of the room and removed the lid. The distinctive odor of gasoline permeated the air. “But fuel makes a really nice boom by itself.”

He scooped some of the flammable liquid into a smaller canister he located sitting on a table nearby. With no other options for a fuse, Veld reached to his throat and jerked the knot out of his tie. With a tug, he pulled it through his collar and threaded the narrower end of it into the opening of the bottle until it touched the surface of the fuel.

“All the mako Shinra is manufacturing, and a ship like this still runs on fuel,” Veld said ironically. “Well, maybe next time they’ll learn to use something a little less flammable.”

Veld placed the bottle on top of the fuel tanks and struck a match.

“Get ready to run, Tseng.”

He lit the end of the tie and ran for the door, Tseng behind him. They were halfway up the stairs when a massive explosion rocked the ship. Tseng lost his footing near the top of the steps and grabbed for the handrail as he went down on one knee. The ship lurched again, and he knew it was beginning to sink.

Tseng scrambled to his feet. The ceiling above him was beginning to collapse, and dust and insulation clouded the air. He couldn’t see the Chief ahead of him anymore. He was probably already up the stairs and off the ship by now. Pushing off the railing, he lunged up the remaining steps with pieces of the ceiling still falling on him from above. The squeal of wrenching metal echoed loudly through the corridor. A steel girder that had been supporting the ceiling tore loose and fell as Tseng passed under it. The heavy piece of steel came crashing down on him, landing squarely across his shoulders. The weight of the impact jarred his legs right out from under him, and he landed on his stomach with the steel girder pinning him to the ground. Pulling his arms beneath him, he pushed his palms into the floor on either side of his chest in an effort to rise against the load on his back. He could feel the sharp edge of the steel column digging into the tenderness of his lower back. Still, he pushed against it. It wouldn’t budge. The weight of the girder was crushing his chest, and he had to fight to expand his thoracic cavity enough to get a breath.

Giving up on raising the girder, he stretched his hands forward, pawing the floor ahead of him for a handhold with which to gain leverage to pull himself out from under it. His fingers curled, trying to take hold of the smooth floor, but found no purchase, instead being drawn helpless back to him while his body stubbornly refused to move from under his prison. He gasped in another breath. A trickle of moisture tickled his brow. Irritated to be bothered by such a thing at a time such as this, he angrily reached up to wipe the sweat and dirt from his eyes and pulled his hand away bloody. He then felt the throbbing gash in his forehead.

He tried again to free himself, but made no more progress than he had before. He felt his chest collapse further. His vision was beginning to blur. Defeated, he dropped his head to the cold metal floor. Bits of debris pressed their sharp edges into his cheek, but he no longer cared. There, with his face pressed against the floor, he felt more than heard the reverberations of approaching footsteps.

“Tseng!” The deep voice sounded distant. “Tseng, where the hell are you?”

It was the Chief. Tseng considered not answering, but it was too late. Verdot spotted him under the girder and ran to his side.

“Tseng! How did you get yourself in this mess?” he demanded, leaning over the girder, trying to find a handhold.

“Sir!” Tseng exclaimed, straining under the weight of the girder crushing his chest. “Please… go… Don’t… worry… about me…”

Veld straightened up as though he was going to leave when he suddenly stooped over and took hold of the center of the girder, where it made contact with Tseng’s back. Tseng felt the Chief’s fingertips brush against his back as they wrapped under the edge of the girder. From his position facedown, Tseng could not see the Chief.

“What are you–” Tseng began.

“Help me a little here,” the Chief told him, his voice sounding compressed by the exertion of his body.

At the Chief’s command, Tseng pulled his hands back underneath him and began pushing his back against the girder as Verdot lifted.

“What… about… the mission?” Tseng asked through clenched teeth. “Protect Shinra’s… secrets… at all cost? The mission… must be… carried out… Isn’t that… right… sir…?”

Another cascade of debris fell from the collapsing ceiling, and Tseng heard Verdot grunt, followed by mumbled curses. He couldn’t see what was happening, but the Chief’s pull on the girder never faltered. Together, they managed to lift the steel beam just enough for Tseng to crawl out from under it. Verdot dropped the girder, and it landed with a loud crash.

“Some things are more important,” he explained, bending over to clamp an iron grip around Tseng’s bicep. With a not so gentle yank, he dragged Tseng up off the floor.

Hauling in deep breaths, Tseng ignored the pain in his ribs and allowed himself to be pulled upright by the Chief. When he looked up at him, he saw one side of the Chief’s face covered in blood, a steady stream of it dripping off his left jaw. Keeping his grip on the younger man’s arm, Veld placed his other hand on Tseng’s back and pushed him forward. Together, the two men bolted down the hall, dodging more debris until they stumbled down the ramp to the docks. On their hands and knees, they watched the ship unceremoniously sink into the harbor before both men collapsed.

* * * * * * *

[Midgar]

Tseng stood watchfully with his hands clasped loosely behind him at the foot of Verdot’s hospital bed. He had come as soon as he had received word on the Chief’s improving condition. Sporting a bandage of his own over his forehead and another concealed beneath his jacket, he quickly took note of the two long rows of stitches running down the Chief’s tanned face from his cheek bone to his jawline. The cuts must have been deep to account for all the blood Tseng saw on his face in the ship.

“I apologize for my falter,” were Tseng’s first words to the Chief. “You shouldn’t have come back for me. It’s my fault you were injured.”

Verdot’s hand went to the wound on his face. “Don’t worry about it,” he told the younger Turk. “It will probably leave a scar, but it will remind me of what really matters. Like my daughter. And that life is about more than just completing a job. Besides, Felicia seemed rather pleased.” At Tseng’s confused look, he explained, smiling, “It’s been a while since her father’s had some time off.”

“I see…” Tseng said, trying to suppress a smile of his own.

The battle-hardened Chief was often so inseparable from his role at the company that it was easy to forget he had a normal life outside of Midgar. While Tseng had never met his family, the Chief mentioned them often. His little girl was the apple of his eye. The thought of the Chief responding to “Daddy” made Tseng smile. But that smile quickly faded, replaced by a concerned frown.

“Sir… Why… Why did you save me back there?” he asked. The thought that his blunder could have cost a little girl her father weighed heavy on him.

The Chief’s smile faded as he thought back to the mission. His eyes flickered, as though watching a replay of the events. “The mission was successfully completed,” he concluded. “We found evidence of the traitor. And both of us survived.”

“Sir, you acted recklessly,” Tseng reprimanded him, frowning as he crossed his arms loosely over his bandaged chest.

“Hmph. You’re starting to sound like me,” Verdot warned the young Turk, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his brown eyes.

Tseng accepted the compliment with an unwilling smile. Lowering his arms, he placed his hands lightly on the hospital bed’s footboard as he looked down at the Chief. It had been announced that he would be taking a short leave of absence following his discharge from the hospital.

“Taking a break sounds good,” Tseng congratulated the him. “Please make sure to rest up properly.”

“Yes, but I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet,” the Chief said with a frown, pushing against the mattress to sit more upright in the bed. He pressed his spine flat against the headboard, trying not grimace at the pain the effort caused him. He met Tseng’s eyes. “You’ve probably already heard. It seems that the traitor is hiding out near Kalm.”

Tseng nodded, tightening his grip on the footboard. He could already see where this was going. “Others will have taken care of that by the time you return, sir,” he insisted.

“No,” Verdot said with a shake of his head. “I’ll command the operation. Kalm is where my family lives.”

Tseng nodded, knowing that trying to persuade the Chief to do otherwise would be a fruitless waste of his efforts. He dissented, “I see… But still… Make sure to play with your daughter.”

A very small flicker of a smile crossed his face. “There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Verdot said, brushing the suggestion aside as he was once again fully immersed in his role as a Turk.

Notes:

1- For anyone interested: This event takes place in 1997. For reference, Crisis Core begins in fall 0000
2- In the game, the ship is sunk by a self-destruct program. That seemed a bit cliché. Also, why would a cargo ship be rigged with a self-destruct? It seemed silly to me, so I revised it with the Turks rigging it to blow themselves. I thought that made more sense and wasn’t too much of a deviation.

Chapter 4: Episode Legend, part 1

[10 November 1999]
[Turks Headquarters, Midgar]

“Enter.” Verdot waved Tseng into his office as he stepped out from behind his desk. “Tseng, I would like to introduce our new member to you. I was about to brief him on the mission.”

Tseng dipped his head and stepped through the open doorway as ordered, nodding respectfully to the Chief before turning his eyes to the other man in the room. Tall and lean, the newest to join the Turks watched him enter with arms crossed, leaning one hip lazily against the Chief’s desk. Dark glasses concealed his eyes over a sharp nose and cheekbones. Curly, orange hair was slicked back from his forehead. The faint, sweet haze of cigar smoke clung to him and permeated the room with its foreign fragrance. Even in a Turk uniform, the man was easily recognizable. Tseng felt his breath catch in his throat as his chest tightened at the sight of him.

“That man!? What is he doing here!?” he shouted, anger rising in his voice. Before he realized it, his gun was in his hand and extended towards the newcomer. He looked desperately at the Chief, his dark eyes steeped in outrage. “Sir! Have you forgotten!? I… I won’t accept this!”

“Tseng! Put down your gun and let me explain,” Verdot ordered him, matching his subordinate's tone in severity.

“Hey…” The man slowly lifted his hands to show he didn’t want to fight. “Would you put your gun down? Try and shoot me and I’ll beat the stuffing out of you. Dontcha think it’s pretty cheap to threaten a man with your gun out?”

“What!?” Tseng shouted incredulously, raising his hackles and returning the full wrath of his glare back to the man.

“Tseng!” Verdot ordered again, his tone suggesting that he obey this time. “I have not forgotten what happened three years ago. I understand how you feel, but restrain yourself for now… I called him here.”

“Why?” Tseng demanded, his voice low and rebellious as he slowly and unwillingly lowered his weapon to his side while keeping his eyes staunchly leveled at the man leaning against the Chief's desk.

“His past aside, you should be well aware of his abilities,” the Chief reminded him.

“…Yes, sir,” Tseng agreed hesitantly. He took a deep breath to regain his composure as he recalled what was known about the man. He was the one called “The Grim Reaper of the Battlefield.” He had once been hired by an anti-Shinra group, and it was said that he even gave SOLDIER a hard time. There is no doubt that he was indeed extremely capable. Still…

“You are wondering why I called you here,” Verdot continued, seeing very clearly the cogs turning in Tseng's head. “Then let me explain… You, too, must have realized that even after the flames of war falter, its embers will remain.”

“Embers, sir?” he questioned, his eyes sliding ever so slightly in the Chief's direction.

“Yes,” Verdot answered thoughtfully, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Organized anti-Shinra activity has been growing. The war is exhausting us. That is why it’s necessary for us to consolidate our strength. His presence,” he lifted an eyebrow indicating the other man in the room, “can bring Shinra and the Turks an invaluable advantage.”

“…Yes, sir,” Tseng agreed reluctantly, knowing that in doing so he was admitting that what the Chief said was indeed true. He would have to put his personal feelings aside for now for the betterment of the company. Determined to make the most of it, he turned back to face the man still leaning casually against the Chief’s desk and asked him, “What is your name?”

“Me?” the man asked, pointing a thumb at his chest.

“Yes.”

“You can call me Legend,” he answered with a confident grin.

“Fine,” Tseng replied, trying not to let his annoyance with the man’s ego show.

The man calling himself Legend studied Tseng from behind his dark glasses, taking pleasure in the obviously uncomfortable feelings he roused in him. This was going to be interesting. Pushing off the desk, he addressed the Chief, “Hey, old man, let’s get this show on the road. I’m bad with long-winded explanations.”

Verdot raised his eyebrows. “Then I assume you don’t want a detailed explanation of the mission?”

“No, thank you,” he said with a rare occurrence of politeness as he angled his body towards the door. His body language shouted his eagerness to leave.

“Good. Then be on your way,” Verdot responded, sounding surprisingly unconcerned by his careless attitude.

Legend wasted no time in vacating the office. Pushing off the director’s desk, he moved past Tseng, angling his body just enough so that only the fabric of their suits brushed against each other. He cast the perturbed Turk an amused smirk as he did so. Tseng kept his chin level and eyes directed forward, refusing to give Legend the satisfaction of watching him leave. The saccharine stench of his cigar-scented aroma clung to the inside of Tseng's nostrils long after the man had left. He forced a lungful of air through his nose in a barely masked attempt to rid his nasal passages of the cloying scent.

Verdot's eyes settled on Tseng's stony face. He could see the faint rhythmic throb of the vein in his temple and the steady flaring of his nostrils as he focused on keeping his breathing even and steady. His eyes remained determinedly fixed on nothing in particular. Such strong emotion was rarely displayed by his subordinate. It was his uncanny ability to remain undisturbed that Verdot so often relied on. He would have to pull himself together.

When Legend's footsteps had faded down the hall, Verdot proceeded to address his remaining Turk alone. “Tseng, you’ll be supporting him. I’ll send the details of the mission to your phone.”

“Understood, sir,” Tseng answered responsibly. “I’ll fill him in on the way.”

Without another word, Tseng spun on his heel and headed for the door. A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder stopping him in tracks. Tseng stood motionless, one foot in front of the other as the condoling warmth of Verdot's hand seeped through the fabric of his suit and into his skin. When Tseng turned his head to face him, Verdot met his eyes with such intensity, that Tseng nearly faltered.

When he had Tseng’s full attention, the Chief told him in a deep, steady voice that indicated the utmost seriousness, “I’m counting on you.”

* * * * * * *

Legend stopped at the edge of the trees and observed the warehouse ahead of him. The two story structure was built like a rectangular box. The outside was nothing fancy to look at. It was white, or at least it used to be, with dark trim. Large bay doors were sealed at several loading docks on the west side. Grimy, dust covered windows were evenly spaced in two rows across its front face. Sunlight reflected off their dingy surfaces with such intensity that it was impossible to see inside. There wasn’t much activity going on that he could see. In fact, the facility seemed even quieter than the forest behind him.

As he studied the scenery, his earpiece chirped before Tseng’s voice filled his right ear.

“It’s me,” Tseng announced.

“What’s my job?” Legend asked impatiently, lighting a cigar and taking a puff of the sweet, exotic filler.

Tseng calmly reminded him, “Go over the mission objectives one more time.”

“Save some kidnapped geezer and wipe out the kidnappers, right?”

“He’s not ‘some geezer’,” Tseng corrected him coolly. “His name is Mr. Rayner.”

Legend was never one for formal titles, so he went on, “Anyway, he’s an arms dealer.”

“Correct,” confirmed Tseng. “He has ties to Shinra. The occupied arms factory belongs to his company.”

Legend nodded as he looked again at the warehouse. “So what are the kidnappers’ demands?” he asked.

“We just received them,” Tseng informed him. “The first is funds for their operations–”

“Give them money then,” Legend said with a snort. Problem solved.

Tseng ignored the suggestion. “The second is the release of political prisoners held at Corel Prison.”

“Return their buddies then.”

Tseng took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The thought that they were about to turn a man like him loose on the mission field made him anxious. Chief, you better know what you’re doing.

“Shinra is not in a situation where it can comply with their demands,” Tseng revealed curtly. “That arms factory is secret; it goes without saying that we can’t let the world know of its existence.”

“Sheesh…” Legend complained half-heartedly. “Rebels are all so greedy.”

“Is that talking from experience?” Tseng jabbed, making no effort to mask his obvious disdain for the man he had been partnered with.

“Who knows?” Legend drawled, brushing the barb aside. “How many of them are there?”

“About forty.”

Legend smiled and took a long drag on his cigar. “Nice odds.”

“How will you infiltrate?” Tseng prompted.

The line was silent while Legend seemed to consider his options. “I’ll take the front door.”

“Are you serious!?” Tseng thundered at the ridiculous suggestion.

“I’ll break it down with my own hands,” Legend boasted, dropping what was left of his cigar and crushing it under his heel.

Tseng fought to get his feelings under control. The man’s overconfidence was both infuriating and worrisome. Will we be able to finish this on time? If he got himself into a drawn out firefight at the front entrance, they might not make the rendezvous point on time. He didn’t approve of the risk, but knew he couldn’t stop him from doing what he wanted. In fact, he was sure the more he protested, the more determined Legend would be to follow through, so he held his peace.

“I’ll be on standby in the vicinity,” the Turk finally stated. “If there’s any trouble, I’ll rush in.”

“Hey, Tseng.” The lightness in the man’s voice warned Tseng that he probably wouldn’t like what was about to follow. “How about a little bet? How fast do you reckon I can finish this job? I say ten minutes. What about you?”

“I don’t gamble on principle,” answered Tseng stiffly.

“Don’t be so uptight,” Legend badgered him. “You’re not a very popular guy, are ya?”

“…Your question does not deserve an answer,” said Tseng dismissively. “Besides, I’m not sure you can complete the mission in such a short time.”

“I assure you I can,” Legend boasted tauntingly.

“I see… While a pro never gambles, I’d like to watch you work. Let’s see if you can complete the mission within ten minutes, just like you said,” Tseng challenged him.

“Ha! That’s the spirit, Tseng,” Legend said proudly and would’ve slapped him on the back had he been next to him. His eyes sparkled behind the reflective lenses of his glasses and a wide grin split his face, revealing two rows of perfectly white teeth. “Enjoy the show!”

Chapter 5: Episode Legend, part 2

Every head in the room turned at the sound of splintering wood as the front doors of the warehouse burst open. Both doors crashed against the walls on either side. The left one fell off its hinges and clapped loudly against the concrete floor of the warehouse. Legend stepped coolly inside. He nonchalantly adjusted the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, as he took in the scene.

“The Turks!” one of the men shouted, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

Legend smiled at them. “Well, now that the formalities are out of the way…” He raised his right hand for all of them to see and ceremoniously depressed the switch on the end of a small black remote. “Have some hell,” he mocked.

A rumbling blast followed the click, and the west side of the warehouse quickly filled with smoke as daylight rushed in to reflect blindingly off the particles filling the air. When the haze cleared, the long row of bay doors was gone. Two men staggered out of the haze towards the others.

“The smoke’s coming from over here!” one of them coughed.

“Is it the enemy!?” asked the other frantically, a hand covering his eyes as he staggered around blindly.

“Get him!” one of the mercenaries ordered, jabbing a finger in Legend’s direction. “Don’t let your guard down! Remember, he’s a Turk!”

“Oh, I’m more than that,” Legend bragged as he looked to the right. Another detonation shook the east side of the building. “Chase the blast,” he taunted the men with an amused chuckle as they looked about frantically.

While they panicked, he set to work, picking them off one by one with his fists. As the last man collapsed, his earpiece sounded off. Tseng’s timing is impeccable, he mused.

“It’s me,” Tseng’s voice came over the speaker.

“Yeah?” he drawled.

“You’ve been successful so far, are you ready for the next stage of the plan?” Tseng asked.

“Which floor is the hostage on?” he asked in response, taking a serious tone for once.

“We believe he’s likely being held on the second floor,” Tseng reported.

Legend grew silent as he looked around the interior of the warehouse. Its structure was typical. A staircase in the southeast corner led up to the next level. A row of columns lined up across the center of the space held up the second floor.

“There should be five support pillars… Am I right?” Legend asked as he counted them off in his head.

“That is correct,” Tseng agreed, recalling the warehouse blueprints he had been given earlier.

“Good.” Legend shrugged the small pack off his shoulders and began reaching inside. “I’m planting bombs on the pillars.”

“What!?” Tseng shouted in his ear. “On all five of them? That will bring it down too fast! Will you be able to evacuate the hostage in time?”

“Eh, who knows?” Legend said with a shrug, already securing a bomb to the third pillar.

Another group of mercenaries came down the stairs behind him. He finished securing the bomb before turning to face them. The man at the front of the group faltered in his step as he saw Legend standing there staring back at him. A flicker of recognition crossed the man’s beady eyes as his face grew pale before flushing red.

“Y-You’re…” he stammered

Legend raised an eyebrow over the top of his dark glasses. “You know who I am?” he asked the mercenary.

“B-back in '95,” he remembered, jabbing an accusing finger in his direction. “It was your fault that–”

“Sorry,” Legend held up a hand and cut him off, “but you must’ve mistaken me for an old acquaintance of yours.” He turned his back to the men and moved on to the next pillar.

“Oh, no. I know who you are,” a second man insisted, stepping to the front of the group as they followed after him. They stopped five paces behind the man with the bombs. The mercenary addressing him crossed his arms. “You sure have fallen low to become a Shinra dog,” he accused him angrily.

“I’m the same man I’ve always been,” Legend replied evenly, finishing up the last bomb and turning back to face them. “The only thing that’s changed is the battlefield I make my living on.”

“Are you serious?” the man raged, spittle flying from his lips. He had not been expecting such a blatant confession. “You’re a Turk now?”

“Man, I’ve been running into a lot of old faces today,” Legend complained, laxly crossing his arms over his chest.

Before he could address the men further, Tseng called. “I take it you’re done setting the bombs.”

“Of course I am,” Legend bragged, raising a hand to his right ear to adjust the speaker positioned inside his ear canal. “Hey, isn’t it about time you put on a nice girl instead?”

“You’ll have to make do with me,” Tseng informed him dryly.

Legend sighed. “If it ain’t my lucky day–”

“What’s your next move?” the Turk prompted impatiently, done with the man's theatrics.

Legend flashed a wicked grin at the mercenaries watching him. “It’s time to attack.”

“Listen,” Tseng warned him sternly, “make sure to keep the damage to a minim–!”

“Don’t sweat it, Tseng,” the man needled him, “Fussy guys aren’t popular with the ladies, doncha know?”

“I wish you luck,” Tseng replied, ignoring the insinuation and hanging up.

“…Killjoy,” Legend complained as he heard the call disconnect.

The mercenaries stood staring at him, listening in on only his half of the conversation. They looked confused. Legend flashed them a condescending smile before he fell upon them. In a matter of seconds, all three men were sprawled unconscious on the floor. Legend took a moment to polish a scuff off of his white shoe on the shoulder of one of the men before proceeding to his next objective.

He ascended the stairs to the second level which only spanned the front half of the building. The inner wall was lined with large windows that looked down on the warehouse floor below. The relatively empty area appeared to function as the facility’s office space. Several tables were cluttered with phones, computers, and paperwork. A few partially packed boxes sat in one corner. Tied to a chair against the wall under a window was a gray haired man. He was partially balding and obviously under a lot of stress given the bright pink hue of his face. He watched Legend approach with wide eyes.

“I’m here to save ya, ol’ man,” he declared, coming closer.

“Mhmf…hmf…mhmf!” Mr. Rayner fought against the bandana that had been forced in his mouth.

“Is this a raid!?” a man shouted from somewhere on the second floor.

Legend stopped short in front of Mr. Rayner’s chair and crossed his arms, his mouth turning down in feigned annoyance. He remained facing the hostage, as he heard the mercenary’s uneven footsteps from across the room. He sighed dramatically.

“You’ll have to hold on a sec, ol’ man,” he apologized.

He turned away and watched the man coming towards them. The mercenary paused when he saw Legend, a deep scowl furrowing his brow.

“I thought those explosions sounded familiar,” he growled. “So it was you after all…”

“Long time no see,” Legend greeted him coldly, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. This mercenary he remembered. His name was Reck.

“The Grim Reaper of the Battlefield himself…” Reck shook his head in disbelief and chuckled quietly to himself. “What are you doing working for Shinra?”

Legend’s eyes narrowed behind his dark lenses as he studied the man. “They’re just buying my services, that’s all.”

“Ha! That’s just like you, isn’t it,” Reck scoffed, pacing towards the windows overlooking the warehouse floor. “But you’re not gonna run away this time!”

“‘Run away’ you say?” Legend uncrossed one of his arms and held up two fingers. “Never make a woman cry, and never turn your back on a fight. Those’re the rules I live by.”

Reck eyed him warily and announced, “That’s news to me.”

“Are you guys sure you don’t wanna turn tail while you still can?” Legend asked while casually pushing his right hand into his hip pocket. His fingers closed loosely around a cool, smooth cylinder.

“I’m different from the last time we met,” Reck warned him.

Legend nodded in agreement. “Too bad for you.”

Click.

The floor beneath them lurch up and dropped down several inches as a series of explosions rocked the warehouse space beneath them. A look of shock twisted Reck’s face.

“Let’s see now…” Legend mused. “That takes care of all your goons on the first floor. All that’s left now is you, small fry. Takes you back to the operation in ‘95, doesn’t it?”

“I see you haven’t lost your touch since then,” Reck said with a snarl when he had regained his composure.

“What did you expect?” he asked, sounding insulted. “The bombs tap out my rhythm.”

“What?”

“It’s proof that I’m alive. On the battlefield, staying alive is everything. You follow me?”

“Yeah, I–”

Another round of blasts shook the structure, causing Reck to stagger sideways. The center support pillar tore loose and came crashing through the back wall of the second floor. Legend stood his ground calmly as the column struck Reck, pinning the man to the floor.

“See, ol’ buddy?” Legend taunted, walking over and placing one foot on top of the pillar that was slowly crushing the man’s chest. “These skills are what have allowed me to survive.”

From underneath the pillar, Reck craned his neck to look at Mr. Rayner. “D…don’t you… reco…gnize …him?” he asked Legend past a growing gargle in his throat.

Legend looked over at the gagged man and studied his features. He was sure he didn’t know him. “…Recognize him?” he mumbled.

“I… heard rumors… about… what went down… in ‘97.”

“You talking about the operation I took part in?” Legend asked, shooting his attention back to the man below him, a sudden and unusual urgency in his voice.

Reck coughed out an amused chuckle. “I guess… you’ll… never… know… Spend… eternity… thinking about… it…” Then Reck was dead.

“Sheesh. He always was a petty man, be it as your ally or your enemy.” Legend took his foot off the pillar and turned back towards the ransomed arms dealer. The business back in 1997, huh… Like I’d ever forget… He shrugged the unpleasant memories off. “Time to go home, ol’ man.”

“Mhmf…! Ghmf…!” Mr. Rayner mumbled angrily, drilling Legend with an ungrateful glare.

“First, let’s get that gag off of you.” With a not so gentle yank, Legend pulled the bandana loose and left the saliva soaked rag hanging around the man’s neck as he knelt down to work at the knots binding his ankles to the chair legs.

Mr. Rayner gasped in deep breaths of air before shouting, “Y-You! How long were you planning to keep me waiting!”

Legend froze with his fingers halfway through the first knot. That voice! This guy… he couldn’t be! He looked up at the man glaring down at him. …I see …So that’s how it is. It’s easy to change your name and face, but not your voice.

“What’s taking you so long!?” the man fumed, squirming in his seat as he strained against the ties holding his wrists, “Hurry up and get me out of here!”

A chirp sounded from Legend’s earpiece. Standing up, he held a finger up to the man and lifted his other hand to the earpiece.

“’Scuse me,” he told him as he turned away to answer the call.

“Is Mr. Rayner safe?” Tseng demanded urgently. “Hurry up and escape before the building collapses!”

Another rumble shook the building. Mr. Rayner cried out fearfully behind him, begging for his attention. Legend stood unmoving.

“Tseng… Tell ol’ man Verdot that I ran into someone from back in ‘97,” he said quietly.

“Hey–!” Tseng shouted.

Legend disconnected the call.

“Th-That was the rescue team on the phone, wasn’t it!?” Mr. Rayner blubbered. “D-Don’t go and hang up on them on your own!”

“…Hey, ol’ man,” Legend said over his shoulder.

“What is it!?” Rayner gasped, exasperated. “We don’t have the time to sit around and chat!”

“…Do you remember what happened back in ‘97?” When Mr. Rayner didn’t respond, he pushed, “The incident in 1997?”

“What are you talking about?” the man shouted, his voice rising in pitch. “You expect me to recall anything when I can’t even move my hands and feet!?”

“…I see,” Legend said, turning back to face him as another tremor rocked the second floor.

“Whoaaa! This place is coming apart! Hurry up!” Rayner pleaded.

Legend strode back over to the hostage. Leaning over him, he placed a hand on either of his wrists and bent down so that his face was only inches away from his. He could see Rayner nervously studying his own pathetic reflection in his glasses.

“How about a little bet, ol’ man?” he challenged. “I’ll get you out of here in one piece… If you can help me refresh my memory.”

“A bet!?” the man roared. “Are you out of your mind!?”

“So you’re not going to lift a finger to save your own life.” He gave the man one more second to answer him before withdrawing from his chair. “I guess the time’s up then.”

Turning away, he headed calmly for the staircase, the heels of his shoes clicking out a slow steady rhythm. He could hear Rayner grunting and groaning as he fought against his restraints.

“You–! Since when do the Turks abandon their missions!?” he shouted after him accusingly.

Legend looked back and offered him a shrug. “I don’t know about the Turks, but I do things my own way.”

With one hand on the railing, he spun around the corner and disappeared down the stairs.

“Wait!” Rayner wailed behind him. “You dirty rat!”

* * * * * * *

[Turk Headquarters, Midgar]

Tseng stormed into Chief Veld's office before being given permission to do so. Verdot was standing at his desk, his back to the door as he stood facing the window. Tseng strode straight up to the desk and slammed both palms down on its polished surface.

“Sir, has his punishment been decided!?” the young Turk demanded to know.

The Chief cast him a sideways glance over his shoulder. He wasn’t smiling, and neither, he observed, was Tseng.

“He will be put under house arrest in Costa Del Sol until further notice,” he informed his subordinate without further explanation.

“What!?” Tseng exclaimed incredulously, his spine stiffening. He could practically feel his blood boiling inside his veins. When he spoke again, his voice was raised to a tone he had never before used when addressing the Chief. “He abandoned his mission as a Turk! Left an important Shinra affiliate behind to die! And for that he’ll be put under house arrest in a sunny resort town!?”

The Chief turned around calmly to face him. Verdot could see Tseng was greatly disturbed by the seemingly lenient sentence. He leveled a look at his young apprentice warning him to regain his composure.

“Shinra’s greatest concern was that the secrets held by Mr. Rayner and the arms factory would leak out,” Verdot explained. “Now that they both are gone, Shinra’s safety has been ensured.”

Tseng removed his hands from Verdot's desk and crossed his arms rebelliously. He managed to soften his tone slightly as he replied unhappily to his superior, “In other words, he accomplished enough for it to be a loss to dispose of him. Is that what was decided?”

“Correct,” the Chief answered simply, returning to the paperwork on his desk.

Tseng remained unmoving in the center of his office.

“Is there something else on your mind?” Verdot prompted without looking up from his work. He could feel Tseng's eyes on him, studying his face. Then they fell away from him. Verdot looked up at him then.

“…I understand why you had me work together with him,” Tseng relented, uncrossing his arms and letting them hang loosely at his sides. “His skills are indeed first rate.
Completing the mission shouldn’t have been a problem for someone of his caliber. Why he decided to abandon it is beyond me…”

Verdot nodded knowingly and asked, “You said he mentioned the incident back in 1997 during his last call?”

Tseng's eyebrows shot up at his mention of it, and his eyes returned to the Chief. “He did. …If I recall correctly, an anti-Shinra group threatened to occupy one of the company’s mako reactors. Is that the incident he was referring to?”

“Yes…” the Chief confirmed, absently running a finger down one of the long white scars streaking his left cheek. “Mr. Rayner offered to supply the group with weapons.”

“Hmmm…?” Tseng pondered. “So he traded with terrorists before he started working for Shinra.”

“Indeed he did,” said Verdot, an amused tone to his voice. “In 1997, he forged strong ties with the anti-Shinra groups. I take it you know the rest of the story?”

“Yes,” Tseng nodded, recalling the reports on the incident. “The occupation failed. The records say there were only two survivors.”

“Correct,” Verdot said, lowering his hand to his desk. "One of them was Mr. Rayner.”

“And the other must've been…”

“Yes. 'The Grim Reaper of the Battlefield',” supplied the Chief.

“Then after the incident, Mr. Rayner must have changed his identity and began dealing with Shinra,” Tseng proposed.

Verdot nodded solemnly as his eyes took on a faraway look. “I was there that day. Right after the failed occupation, I traveled there to confirm that the reactor was safe. It was there that I met him, 'The Grim Reaper of the Battlefield'. He was a fearsome man, and I was ready to fight him, but… instead he dropped his weapon.”

“He did?” Tseng asked unbelievingly.

“Yes.” Verdot paused to take a deep breath. “The only thing he held on to was a single red shoe gripped in his left hand. Then he opened his mouth and quietly said: 'There’s no reason to cry for a man who has no family… Because even if he were to die today, no one would mourn him.'… That was all he had to say about it. As for the rest, I can only guess. His comrades were killed because of Mr. Rayner’s betrayal. Among the victims was an orphaned young girl. He himself only survived thanks to his skills.”

The Chief paused to look at Tseng. The young Turk had lowered his gaze to the floor.

“Tseng?” he asked, “What would you have done on that mission had you been in his shoes?”

Tseng considered the man's actions in light of the new facts. Grappling with his thoughts, he tried to answer the Chief's question. “…I would… …”

Chapter 6: Episode Legend, part 3

Notes:

A little over a year has passed since the previous chapter. During that time, the opening events of Crisis Core have occurred, including Zack’s mission to Fort Tamblin in Wutai, Angeal’s disappearance, and, most recently, Tseng and Zack’s mission to Banora.

[10 January 0001]
[Turk Headquarters]

Chief Verdot looked up from his desk at the sound of a rhythmic rap at his door. He saw Tseng waiting in the open doorway.

“Enter,” he said, ushering him in with a wave of his hand.

“You called for me, sir?” Tseng inquired as he approached Verdot’s desk with his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

The Chief set his work aside and rose from his chair to address Tseng at eye level. “I have a mission for you. …There is a certain man in Costa Del Sol whom I want to recall to duty.”

He watched Tseng carefully for his reaction. A flash of doubt and perhaps a hint of anger flickered in his dark brown eyes. Verdot had expected as much, although he had hoped to the contrary.

“But, sir… What about his house arrest?” Tseng asked in clipped tones that betrayed his true feelings on the matter even as he masked them with an emotionless gaze.

“During the war… he was a member of an anti-Shinra group. His skills will indubitably be useful,” Verdot said, as though that would explain his decision.

“…Yes, sir.” Tseng lowered his eyes as he voiced his concession.

The Chief observed his young protégé. He knew him well enough to know that he didn’t mean to agree with him, but was only doing so out of respect.

“Are you concerned about the incident two years ago?” he prodded, giving him a chance to voice his true feelings if he so wished.

“No,” Tseng answered a little too quickly. “Not at all, sir.”

“Good,” Verdot said dismissively, letting the matter drop and returning his attention to the stack of papers on his desk. “Once he’s here, I’ll persuade him to return to duty.”

“Understood,” Tseng nodded and turned to leave.

“Then I’m counting on you,” the Chief reminded him, looking up from his desk to meet Tseng's eyes.

Tseng held his gaze steady and gave the Chief a curt nod as he assured him, “Yes, sir.”

* * * * * * *

[Costa Del Sol]

Tseng set the helicopter down on the small airfield on the west side of Costa Del Sol. The seaside resort was in full vacation mode. The thought that anyone would be punished by being made to stay here was laughable. Despite the beautiful scenery and warm weather, Tseng was not relishing this assignment. He was determined to get it over with quickly.

The town was crowded this time of year, impeding his progress at locating the man. Throngs of people choked the cobblestone walkways, growing in density the nearer he got to the beach. He was constantly bumping shoulders with one person or another. In Midgar, most people who saw him recognized the suit and were quick to move out of his way, even in a crowd. He received no such respect here. In exasperation, he began shoving people aside as needed in an effort to expedite his mission. Off to his left, he spotted two women at a quiet souvenir booth. His sharp eyes quickly recognized the Shinra lapel pins they wore on their tropical uniforms. Withdrawing a photo of the man he was looking for, he stepped up to their counter and held it up for them to see.

“Have you seen this man?” he asked bluntly.

One of the women, a well-endowed brunette – her name tag read “Julie” – glanced at the photo and squealed, drawing her friend’s attention.

“Why, if it isn’t him!” she cried snatching the photo from Tseng's hand. Her smile quickly disappeared as she took in his Turk uniform. “What, did he do something?” she asked, sounding concerned.

Tseng opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by the second woman, a petite raven-haired beauty named Rose.

“Just now he was with Jessie, and yesterday it was Catherine. He’s so nice to everyone!” she blurted in his defense before settling her gloss covered lips into a pout.

“Are you a friend of his?” asked Julie.

Tseng took a deep, steadying breath before answering, “We are not friends.” His tone suggested they ask no more questions.

“…Maybe he’s at the beach?” Rose finally suggested with a shrug as she pointed a well-manicured finger in the beach's general direction.

Tseng reached out and took the photo back from Julie, who unwillingly relinquished her grip on it. Folding the photo in half with a sharp crease, he returned it to his suit's interior pocket. “I’ll have a look,” he told the women as he stepped away from their booth. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” Rose shouted after him. He stopped and turned back to them. “If you find him, ask him if he’ll go on a date with me next!”

Tseng cast them both an exasperated look and left without a word. As he walked away he could hear Julie crying, “Hold on, I’m next in line!”

Pushing his way back through the crowd, he made his way to the beach. The expanse of Costa Del Sol's famous golden sands stretched north and south as far as the eye could see. Turquoise waves lapped lazily at the shoreline before receding back to leave a frothy white film spread on top of the sand. Directly ahead, Tseng could see a cluster of women convening on a single beach chair. As one of them stepped aside, Tseng recognized the man reclining back in the chair with a giggling brunette on his lap. He hadn't changed. His slicked back orange hair ended in curls at the nape of his neck, and he still wore a pair of sunglasses that concealed his eyes. Two rows of perfectly aligned white teeth gleamed from a handsomely tanned face and perfectly square jaw as he charmed the ladies clamoring around him.

Taking a deep breath, Tseng stepped onto the beach and set out across the sand towards them. He stopped at the edge of his adoring fans and crossed his arms.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” he observed dryly, raising his voice to be heard over the incessant flirting.

The man looked over his shoulder and spotted the Turk beyond the circle of women. “Tseng!” he greeted him, shooing the brunette off his lap. “You should know better than to let your footsteps give you away when approaching the enemy.”

“Your hearing is as sharp as always,” the Turk replied unamused.

The man waved the rest of the women away and beckoned Tseng closer. “1999,” he reminisced with a sigh. “Haven’t gone on a mission since. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You here to lay down the law on me?”

“What!? Of course not,” Tseng retorted angrily.

The man burst out in a short spurt of hearty laughter. “Just kidding. So, what brings you here?”

Tseng crossed his arms as he looked down at the man. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined having to choke out the words needed to invite this man back. Swallowing his pride, he delivered the message he had been sent to deliver. “The Chief wants you to return… Your skills are needed.”

The man studied Tseng from behind his dark lenses. He could tell the Turk's feelings for him hadn't changed. This assignment had to be eating him up inside. That made the man smile.

“Hey, hey. Look at the sunshine. You don’t get this kind of weather in Midgar. And all the lovely ladies!” he spread his arms to embrace the entire beach and smiled up at Tseng. “Come on… You expect a man to just up and leave?”

The Turk’s expression didn't change.

The man lowered his arms and let his smile fade. “I take it nothing I say is going to make any difference? Hey, how 'bout this? Beat me in a fight and maybe I’ll consider coming back with you.” The man jumped up out of his chair and raised his fists. “Bring it on!”

I wanted to talk things through peacefully, Tseng lamented to himself. He kept his stoic stare leveled at the man.

“Let's go, Tseng!” he taunted, bouncing lightly on his toes as he shook out his arms and raised his fists into a boxing position.

Quick as lightning and without a hint of foreshadowing, his right fist shot towards Tseng. The Turk jerked back just enough for the man’s knuckles to brush past his nose without contact. But the assault wasn’t over. Tseng ducked as a swift roundhouse kick sliced through the air towards him. Pivoting on his heel, Tseng spun away from another round of punches, putting a safe distance between himself and Legend. As he turned, he reached his right hand into his jacket and removed the pistol from his underarm holster.

Straightening his posture, he pointed it calmly at the man, indicating that he didn't want a fight.

Seeing the black hole at the end of the muzzle, the man lowered his fists and laughed, shaking his head good-naturedly at the Turk's antics. “You pointed a gun at me the first time we met, too,” he recalled.

Tseng slowly lowered the weapon to his side as he remembered that day two years prior when Verdot had introduced the newest member of the Turks to him. He had become his partner on the arms dealer mission that had ultimately failed. It was the man's deliberate abandonment of that mission that had earned him his sentence here in Costa Del Sol. As he recalled the reasons for the man's actions, Tseng's expression softened slightly. The man took notice.

“Tseng? …Hey, what's the matter?”

“I don’t know,” Tseng confessed. “I don’t know, but… If my friends had been betrayed and killed, if there had been a little girl among them… If they had been people precious to me… Then I might have done the same thing you did.”

The man grunted and crossed his arms loosely over his bare chest. “You say some weird things, Tseng.”

“Won’t you come back to the Turks?” Tseng asked again. “…We need you.”

The man looked down at the sand between his bare feet and shook his head. “…I settled the score with Rayner. I don’t feel any particular attachment to Shinra. There are good times and there are bad times. What you need is the will to see things through to the end.”

“The will?” Tseng asked, raising an eyebrow in question.

The man smiled at his confusion. “Tell that to the ol’ man,” he requested.

“All right,” Tseng conceded, nodding. “I’ll tell him.”

“To tell you the truth, playing around here is good enough for me,” he said, flopping back down in his beach chair. “Returning to duty would be a pain, and, more importantly… I’ve got a date tomorrow.”

Is that really why you won’t return? Tseng wondered. He looked down at the man. He was smiling up at him, awaiting a response.

“If that’s your decision, then I’ll respect it,” Tseng conceded as he returned his weapon to its holster. “But don’t forget that the Chief is waiting for you to come back. I think the time will come when we fight side by side again. That is all.”

Notes:

From here on, all chapters and events will progress in the order they appear in the game. Chapter titles will reflect the in-game chapter titles.

Chapter 7: 1: Those That Lurk in the Night, part 1

Summary:

This chapter begins the opening mission of Before Crisis, where we see the player Turk and Avalanche make their debut in Midgar's Sector 8...

Notes:

For this mission, I chose for the player Turk to be "Rod", whose name in concept art was "Alvis". Alvis is the name I will be using.

[Sector 8, Midgar]

2:15 AM

The sound of heavy boots echoed through the alleys passing by the Sector 8 Mako Reactor. A new patrol of Shinra infantrymen had arrived to replace those already on duty. Their patrol would last until morning when a new set of soldiers would come to relieve them of their work. The sky was still dark and starry with no sign of the coming dawn reddening the horizon, not that they would have been able to see it past the towering ring of reactors and other complexes of the city.

Below their feet, a separate group of troops was arriving for duty of another kind. Several men clomped through the dank cool air of Midgar’s sewers. They did their best to ignore the unpleasant smell of the stale atmosphere as they entered a stone room hollowed out on the side of one of the sewer tunnels. The far wall was adorned with an irregular rendition of a skull and crossbones marked with the letter “A”. A well-built young man stood near the front of the room. He had dark eyes and dark hair that stuck out in pointed shafts from under the pale green bandana tied about his head. Khaki fatigues, similar to those worn by the other men, stretched tight across his broad shoulders. Combined with his commanding height, he looked every bit a leader among men. Those gathering around him called him Shears.

Shears stepped towards his small audience, eying the growing crowd with a satisfied curl of his lips. The men all fell silent around him as his domineering presence filled the room. Then, raising his voice, he spoke to them with profound conviction. “Our revolution begins tonight!” he shouted, his voice deep and resonating. “This is the beginning of our fight to bring down the Shinra Company. Down with Shinra!”

“Down with Shinra!” the crowd echoed back as one, their thunderous voices echoing off of the stone walls all around them.

“Move out!” Shears ordered, pumping his fist into the air. His lips tipped up in a crooked smile as he watched his men grow raucous in anticipation, filing from the room with ruddy shouts, proclaiming how they were going to smash, kill, and annihilate any and all Shinra personnel who would dare get in their way.

Exiting the sewers, the mob split up into their predetermined squads and made for their designated posts. One such squad comprised of four men, exited the sewers, surfacing on the dark abandoned streets of Midgar near Mako Reactor Eight. One man stepped out ahead of the others, taking lead of the squad. Pausing on the sidewalk, he checked the street while still obscured by the shadows.

“We’re going to secure a route for the main forces,” he directed his followers in a harsh whisper, then checked the street one more time before lifting a hand in the air and flagging them onward. “Move out.”

The other three men nodded in agreement and followed their leader across the street in a stooped-over run. Their boots slapped loudly on the damp asphalt as they moved in single file towards the brick building nearest the reactor entrance and gathered at its corner. Pressing against the rough wall, their leader peered cautiously around the edge and spied the two Shinra security officers that were on duty patrolling the street at the reactor’s main gate.

“Shinra soldiers,” he announced with a hiss to his men behind him, sounding caught off guard by their presence. However, his surprise quickly turned to deep-seeded resolve, and he reminded them, “We’ll kill anyone that stands in our way!”

Waving a beckoning hand to his men, he spun around the corner and led the way towards the startled soldiers. One officer saw them approaching and raised his hand in a halting gesture while his partner raised his rifle.

“Entry into this area is forbidden!” he declared, his voice stern.

Ignoring the infantryman’s warning, the anti-Shinra team rushed on. The leader, by now within close combat range, cried out horrendously, “Down with Shinra!”

The opposing factions met, two Shinra infantrymen and four ruffians. The rogue company swiftly eliminated the Shinra personnel and checked to make sure that the remainder of the area was secure. Meeting up again at the alley, the squad leader gathered the others around him.

“All right. We’re splitting into two groups from here,” he declared. He then pointed to two of them and said, “You two stay here and wait until the main body arrives.”

With a round of nods amongst each other, the four men split up, with two standing watch at the entrance to the street, while the other two took off on foot for the reactor up ahead.

* * * * * * *

The handheld shrilled loudly from the Turk’s pocket. He pulled it out impatiently and checked the screen. Tseng. He thought it best to answer his superior and accepted the call.

Tseng answered without greeting. “Your orders are to patrol Sector 8,” he instructed. “The war is over and the town is peaceful, so I doubt you’ll run into any big problems.”

“Roger,” the new Turk replied with a bit of cocky bravado. “Leave Sector 8 to me.”

Although he was the new guy among the Turks, Alvis was working his way through the basics rather easily. He wasn’t fond of patrol duty, but knew someone had to do it. He returned the mobile to his pocket and began pacing the streets in front of the reactor. The dawning morning was cool and the concrete sidewalks were damp with early dew. Little activity seemed promised at such an early hour, and he settled in for a long night.

He walked the streets and adjoining alleyways at an easy gait, twirling his baton as he had seen Reno do on so many occasions. Reno was a senior Turk, a bit excitable, but a hardcore Turk nonetheless. Alvis had trained with him on a few occasions and had started looking up to him. In fact, it was Reno who had dragged him into the Turks in the first place. Once the leader of one of the gangs in Midgar, Alvis was an overconfident youth with a pack of followers to stoke his pride. It was that pride that prompted him to break into a Shinra garage and attempt to steal a motorbike. Reno was the one who caught and arrested him before turning him over to Chief Verdot. To his surprise, the man offered him a position in the Turks, and that’s how he ended up patrolling the streets on Sector 8.

Alvis’s attention was quickly awoken by the sound of gruff voices from beyond a nearby alley between him and the reactor. Certain that anyone out at such an early hour was intending mischief, he crept closer and listened from around the corner of a dark brick building.

“The long awaited day of Shinra’s downfall is in sight. Don’t go messing things up now. Down with Shinra!” one of the two men shouted and raised a hand in mock salute.

The second man mimicked the gesture and echoed, “Down with Shinra!”

The Turk wrinkled his brow in concern. Down with Shinra? he asked himself, trying to sort out the meaning of the scenario before him. What’s going on here?

The quiet was abruptly disrupted with a shrill ringing. The Turk grabbed frantically at the distressing phone in his right pocket, but it didn’t take long for the men he was surveying to take notice of him in the alley.

“Who’s there?!” one of the men shouted into the dark with an alarmed voice.

“Dammit!” Alvis mumbled under his breath as he pressed the disconnect button on his troublesome cell and rushed out of the alley to confront the conspirators.

One of the men’s eyebrows raised in recognition as he stepped out of the shadowy alley. “That uniform… The Shinra Company’s Turks?!”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alvis questioned them sternly, ignoring their verbal observations. He lifted his chin a little higher and squared his shoulders. Yeah, he was a Turk, and proud of it.

The man seemed to quickly recover from his shock, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a mischief laden smirk. “You overheard our plans,” he said a little too calmly. “We’re going to have to get rid of you.”

The khaki-clad renegade lunged at the black-suited Turk, intent on destroying the eavesdropper. But the Turk had his electricity imbued baton out and ready before the man had taken two steps and laid it down hard across his neck. The electric shock it gave off on contact rendered the man unconscious. It was then that he began to take notice of Tseng’s voice sounding muffled from his pocket. He must not have disconnected the call after all. Keeping his eye on the other hostile, he withdrew the phone with his left hand and held it awkwardly to his ear.

“What’s going on?” Tseng shouted again. “Why are you engaging?”

Before the Turk could answer, the other conspirator came at him. Alvis had no choice but to hang up on Tseng and dodge the attack. He landed a punch in the man’s gut and swung his baton, connecting it with the man’s cheek and nose. The second conspirator fell back unconscious, his nose tilted slightly off to one side, probably broken. The Turk was putting away his weapon when his phone sounded again. He quickly answered it this time.

“What happened?” Tseng said tersely.

The young Turk took a deep breath and began to relate his story, “I was attacked suddenly by two men who seemed to be plotting something. They were saying something about ‘Down with Shinra!’”

“‘Down with Shinra’? Who could they be?” Tseng mused aloud, trying to recall any information that would relate to the present scenario. Unable to do so, he told the other Turk, “We need to know more. Go see if there are more of those men around.”

“Understood. I’ll get on it right away.”

* * * * * * *

[Turks Headquarters]

Tseng pushed his way through the heavy wooden door and entered his superior’s office without knocking. The matter was urgent. Director Verdot looked up from his desk at the intrusion, pen poised in his hand as he met Tseng’s gaze.

“Veld, sir! There seems to be a disturbance in Sector 8,” he reported, speaking in short clipped tones. “There have been reports of suspicious men in the area that seem ill-disposed towards the company.”

The Chief stared back at Tseng, searching the younger man’s face and finding he was all seriousness, not that he ever expected anything less from Tseng. The man was perhaps his most trustworthy, completely dedicated to his leadership and the betterment of the company. He remained silent for a moment, turning over the report in his mind, analyzing it as was his habit before jumping to any rash conclusions. But Tseng had not given him enough information to digest. He needed more and proceeded to barrage the man with questions, hungry for details.

“Are they working alone? Is this the work of a group? How are they planning to attack?” he asked, each question followed immediately by another.

Tseng had no answers for any of his questions and merely shook his head. Instead, he offered a humble report on the current scenario. “I’ve got our newest recruit looking into the situation.”

Deep creases cross Veld’s face as it wrinkled with concern. “I don’t feel comfortable just letting a rookie handle it,” he told Tseng, letting his disapproval of the situation show. “Keep me apprised of the situation and see if you can get someone else in there to act as support.”

“Yes, sir.” Tseng tipped his head submissively and left the room, phone already in hand.

* * * * * * *

[Sector 8]

The two men conversed freely below the shadow of the Sector 8 Reactor. The sun had yet to make its appearance on the horizon, and the cover of darkness was still with them. Everything was going better than planned.

“I’m going to take the front,” the leader said, taking a quick glance around. “You stay and take the rear.”

The other nodded in agreement and the two of them jogged down the street together before turning their separate ways to cover both sides of the reactor.

* * * * * * *

“I want you to capture these men and try to get information out of them,” Tseng spoke in short rapid syllables to the rookie on the other end of the phone.

The young Turk answered with a voice that he hoped sounded confident, “Yes, sir,” and disconnected the call without asking for further instructions.

He then turned his ear towards the reactor and could detect the slightest connotations of a hushed conversation. Firming his grip on the baton, the Turk crept to the corner of the street and listened intently. Two more men were talking quietly and pointing up and down the street. Alvis couldn’t make out the beginning of their sentences and caught only a few words at a time. To his good fortune one of them raised his voice in his excitement of the moment.

“We’ll secure this route,” he said quite clearly in a rather gruff voice. “Don’t let anyone through.”

The Turk listened intently and heard one set of booted feet moving briskly away in the other direction. The other, he assumed, was waiting as ordered. The first must have been the leader of the two. The Turk would have to stop him, but would have to go through the rear guard first. He checked his weapon and then rounded the corner at a sprint directed towards the remaining man. The man’s first reaction was surprise. His expression, however, was quickly subdued and replaced by one of determination.

“The Turks!” he exclaimed at first, then said stoutly, “I’m not letting you get past here.”

Alvis rushed on, intent on proving him differently. His footsteps echoed loudly in the narrow space of the alley, but he didn’t care about stealth at this point. He kept his eyes focused on the enemy as he drew closer and closer. As he studied the man’s face, he saw his mouth turn up in a smirk as his eyes focused on a matter past him. Alvis slowed slightly and could then hear running footsteps behind him. He came to a halt ten feet from the guard and chanced a look over his shoulder. Two more men had flanked him from behind, both bearing a skull and crossbones insignia marked with an “A”.

“There’s no getting away now!” the guard howled in seeming delight. The Turk returned his attention to him.

“We’re not letting you get away with this, Shinra dog!” one of the men behind him added haughtily.

The third man joined in the taunt, saying, “Don’t think you’re getting out of here alive!”

Not one to be easily daunted, the Turk twirled the Shinra-issued baton lazily in his hand, trying to mimic Reno’s easy demeanor. The laid back attitude often put opponents off guard, or at least that’s what Reno had told him. Off guard or not, he wasn’t going to give any of them the opportunity to strike first and made a sudden leap at the guard nearest him. The man was indeed caught off guard and paid for it with a swift swipe of the baton across his Adam’s apple. He went down gasping as another blow to the back of his head finished him off. The Turk's phone suddenly shrilled inconveniently from his pocket. Not taking his eyes off of the remaining men, he lifted the phone tentatively to his ear.

“What’s your situation?” Tseng’s voice cut through loud and clear.

“I’m engaged with two unknown operatives from the rear of the street,” he said, hoping Tseng would take the hint and leave him be for a while.

“I know this is a tough situation to be in, but hang–” the Turk disconnected before his boss could finish his motivational speech. He didn’t have time to listen.

To his surprise, the two troopers had made no move to attack him and seemed to be listening in on his conversation with piqued interest. Still, he refused to let down his guard and continued to face them.

“What are you planning here?” he demanded in a raised voice.

The man on the right drew a handgun and curled his lips in an amused smirk. “As if we’d tell the Turks,” he sneered.

The other man, not one for small talk, cut his comrade off short. “Down with Shinra!” he yelled and rushed at the Turk.

Alvis reacted quickly and lethally, disarming and incapacitating the two under-trained men. Before the second one hit the ground, he was running down the street towards the endangered reactor. He still didn’t know what they were up to, which was all the more reason for him to hurry. It could be nothing, or it could mean everything. Ahead of him, at a crossroads, he saw another armed man guarding the road leading to Reactor Eight. Alvis slowed to a run as he neared the man. They made eye contact.

“Who are you people?” he panted between breaths.

“Hmph,” the guard responded, taking note of the Turk’s confusion. “This is the end for Shinra,” he taunted.

The Turk glanced past him and intended to make a bolt for the reactor. He took a couple fast-paced steps before he saw three more of the mysterious enemies materialize from the shadows at the reactor’s entrance. Skidding to a stop, he raised his weapon in a defensive position as the four armed men started towards him. Three of them were armed with small handguns. With a snarl of frustration, Alvis dove towards the corner of a nearby building as a series of bullets chipped away at the brickwork.

* * * * * * *

[Turks Headquarters]

Tseng placed both palms on the polished surface of the director's desk as he leaned over it to watch the flickering monitors over the Chief's shoulder. The surveillance cameras positioned around the reactor spied on the scenario from every conceivable angle. Men in khaki fatigues seemed to be materializing from every shadow. There were so many of them!

“Sir, these men appear to be well-organized,” he said exasperatedly to Veld.

The Chief nodded and maintained his calm demeanor. He was not one to be so easily excited. He had seen his way through more than one apparent crisis. This one would prove just as short lived. Turning his chair away from the screens, he stood and looked Tseng in the eye.

“Tell any of our men that are close to the reactor to get down there straight away,” he ordered.

“I already have,” Tseng reported promptly.

Veld nodded his approval and turned with Tseng to watch the monitors for further reports.

* * * * * * *

[Sector 8]

A rumbling explosion shook the streets nearest Reactor Eight. A thick haze of smoke drifted away from the entrance, revealing a gaping hole where a thick, metal-plated door had once stood. Twisted, smoldering metal ringed the edge of the newly expanded entry point, and the strong smell of soldered alloy laced the air. An armed man with a pack strapped to his broad shoulders stepped out of a doorway across the street from the reactor. He looked over to the next doorway and signaled to the two men hidden away in its shadows.

“Okay! We’ve opened a path to the mako reactor,” he relayed triumphantly. “I’ll set up the explosives. You guys keep watch at the entrance.”

His comrades lifted their hands to signal the reception of his instructions and stepped out into the street after him. Stopping at the disfigured doorway, they turned back to watch the street as their leader entered the reactor with another pack of volatile explosives. To their right, four more comrades were standing by. They signaled to the second group and settled in for guard duty.

One of the men from the second group led his squad towards the reactor. He turned to his followers. “We’re going in,” he announced. “Move out!”

At the wave of his hand, they crept through the entrance and branched out to cover the interior of the reactor.

* * * * * * *

[Turks Headquarters]

Tseng stood with arms crossed, looking down at the monitors recording the activity in Sector 8. Suddenly one of the screens jumped to life with extensive action. No sound came through, but the implications of the quivering screen were obvious.

Never removing his eyes from the screens, he called out urgently to Verdot, “Sir! There’s been an explosion at the entrance to the reactor!”

The Chief was back at his side in seconds. A concerned wrinkle creased his brow. “What?!” he exclaimed before recovering his calm composure once again. “So they’re targeting the mako reactor? Shinra has invested a lot into those reactors – if those men destroy any of them, the company will be in turmoil.”

Tseng shook his head. Veld was drastically underplaying what would result from such a loss. Mako was extremely volatile, especially at high concentrations such as that found inside the reactor. “Sir,” he ventured to correct him, “if that reactor explodes, it could take that entire sector with it.”

Verdot nodded slowly as he considered the implications of the information Tseng was feeding him. If what he said was true, then failure was not an option. Something had to be done. He lifted a hand to his chin and considered his options.

“They must be stopped,” he ordered. “We cannot allow the intruders to get to the reactor's core.”

Tseng needed no more instructions than that. He opened his cell and anxiously called for the rookie. He wasn’t the most experienced Turk in the field, but at the moment he was the closest to the reactor, and immediate action was needed. He would have to do.

* * * * * * *

[Sector 8]

Alvis peered vigilantly around the corner of the brick building he was taking cover behind. Another guard was standing near the smoldering reactor entrance. He felt his PHS vibrating in his left pocket and answered in a hoarse whisper.

“Pay close attention!” were Tseng’s first words. Alvis forced himself to look away from the guard to focus on Tseng’s next words. “The entrance to the reactor’s underground entrance has been blasted open.”

The rookie closed his eyes and leaned back against the building. He felt the rough brickwork against his back and shoulders. He had heard the explosion a few minutes prior and had hoped that it had not been the reactor. But he was wrong. He had been too slow.

“It’s my fault,” he said, accepting the responsibility. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Tseng’s voice was staccato and on edge. He was nervous; the rookie could hear it in his voice. “Now listen to me. The intruders are aiming for the reactor itself. You must stop them from reaching it.”

Seeing the opportunity to redeem himself, the young Turk accepted the orders eagerly. “Roger.”

He pocketed the handheld as he ran full tilt around the building. But then he pulled up in a sharp stop before a line of the anti-Shinra troops spread across the street.

“You there!” he yelled at them boldly. “Whatever it is you're up to, stop!”

The men seemed little surprised by his sudden appearance. In fact, they appeared merely irritated by the Turk’s presence.

“Shut up!” one brazen man shouted at him. Then, directing his gruff voice at his comrades, ordered, “Get him!”

Two of the men broke from the line and attacked him. Alvis knocked the two of them out of commission and turned back to the others, who had drawn their weapons and were aiming them in his direction. The Turk had been fighting well, but the constant struggles were beginning to wear him down. He was only a rookie after all. What was he doing on an assignment like this, anyway? He shook the thoughts from his head and tried to focus.

Three of them? His thoughts circled back to his inexperience. This isn’t good…

He felt like he was facing off with an entire army. He was too tired. He needed back up, but didn’t dare take the time to call headquarters in the heat of battle; he would be slaughtered for sure. His thoughts shifted negatively yet again. He couldn’t go on.

I can’t take them all on…

The men converged on the lone Turk, laughing and tossing around mocking insults. The rookie lifted his baton and set his face determinedly towards the one nearest him. He refused to go down without a fight. He had to protect the reactor!

As the first man bore down on him, hurried footsteps echoed closer to them from the right. Expecting another enemy trooper to join his buddies in the lopsided battle, the Turk growled low and menacingly as he swung his weapon, making solid contact with the head of the man in front of him. As he went down, the two men off to his right howled in pain before slumping to the ground face down.

The rookie glanced over just quick enough to take notice of a red-headed man wearing a familiar black suit. The other Turk was tall and lanky with a face more youthful than his years. He wore his suit jacket open and the top of his shirt unbuttoned. A matching pair of scarlet crescent shaped tattoos sat beneath his eyes and a pair of aviator goggles were strapped across his forehead. The man lifted a baton similar to Alvis’s and gestured to the three enemy soldiers still closing in on them in a half circle.

“Hey, rookie!” he greeted him in a lazy tone. He wasn’t even breathing hard. “Looks like you’ve gotten yourself into quite a mess on your first day, huh?”

Chapter 8: 1: Those That Lurk in the Night, part 2

“Reno?!” Alvis exclaimed, sounding slightly confused. “I thought you had other orders.”

Reno took a few steps closer to him as two more anti-Shinra troops came up behind him.

“I’ve been called in to be your support,” he explained with a cocky grin. Seeing the look of gratitude on the rookie’s face he added, “Don’t worry about it.”

Reno turned his back to him to face towards the ever tightening circle of hostiles as another pair came at them, raising the odds six to two. The rookie did likewise. The two Turks stood back-to-back, surrounded by a six-man squad of armed enemy troops.

“All right, rookie,” Reno said with a hint of a smile in his voice. “Let’s finish this up as quickly as possible!”

The rookie nodded vigorously, feeling suddenly revitalized by Reno’s unexpected appearance. Moving as one, the two Turks activated their EMRs and lunged in opposite directions, each eliminating half of the enemy force before their last opponent hit the pavement with a heavy thud. As Alvis stood catching his breath, he looked over to see Reno making his way back over to him, casually bouncing his rod against his shoulder and hardly even breathing hard

“Mission complete,” he announced as he slapped the rookie hard on the back.

Alvis was breathing too hard to talk back, but flashed him a thumbs up instead. Reno’s smile suddenly faltered as his eyes focused on something beyond the rookie. Lowering his upraised hand, Alvis spun around and took a couple steps back towards Reno. Three more enemy soldiers were closing in on them from the left, all armed.

“They just keep coming,” Reno complained, an angry growl vibrating his voice. He triggered his rod and a flash of electricity jumped around the tip. “Is there no end to them?”

“At this rate, they’ll get to the reactor,” the rookie warned, then explained to Reno, “That’s what they're aiming for.”

“Seems like it,” he agreed with a cock of his head. His blue eyes lit up as he made a decision. “Okay then, rookie. You go on ahead. I’ll take care of these guys.” When he saw Alvis’s hesitation he added, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll catch up with you in no time.”

The rookie didn’t argue. He gave a short nod and turned towards the reactor entrance. “Yes, sir,” he agreed. “Be careful, Reno.”

* * *

Three bodies fell in one simultaneous thud. Reno twirled his baton in one hand and took a few steps back to survey his work before turning towards the reactor entrance, preparing to follow after the rookie. He took one last glance around the area, then ran towards the looming gate.

“Impressive.”

Reno skidded to a halt and spun around three-hundred-sixty degrees, knees bent in a defensive stance as he searched the creeping shadows for the source of the remark. Footsteps echoed out of a nearby alleyway and were soon joined by a rough silhouette. The approaching man wore a green bandana and had dark probing eyes. As far as Reno could tell, he was unarmed. He walked towards the Turk with a confident, relaxed stride. He possessed a formidable frame – as tall as Reno but twice as thick – and he had a violent gleam in his eye. When he was close, he picked up the conversation again.

“Just what I would have expected from you, Reno: The fastest of the Turks.”

Reno relaxed his stance and swung his rod around lazily to match the man’s carefree mood.

“You sure know a lot about me, don’t ya?” he asked in a languid drawl.

The man sneered, “It’s only common sense – know thy enemy. It’s basic battle strategy. But that speed of yours is no match for me.”

“Oh, really?” Reno asked, dishing out some overly confident sarcasm of his own. “We won’t know for sure until we test that out, will we?”

“Interesting,” the mysterious man said undeterred. “Well, let’s get to it, shall we?”

* * *

[Reactor 8]

“I’ll guard this area,” the man said as he motioned down the corridor. “Hurry up and set the explosives!”

The second man shucked the pack off of his shoulders and reached inside for the explosives as he jogged down the passageway. He studied the building’s structure carefully as he calculated their position.

“Once we break through here, we’ll have access to the mako reactor,” he told his comrade triumphantly.

Pulling up next to a steel panel situated between two support columns, he rapped his knuckles across its surface a couple of times. Satisfied by the hollow sounds beyond, he dropped to one knee and pulled the premade explosive device from the satchel in his left hand. Working quickly and carefully, he began to untangle the mass of wires that would act as his reckless passkey into the reactor.

* * *

Alvis stepped cautiously over the rubble littering the floor just inside the entrance as he placed the handheld to his ear. Tseng had called again to feed him more information.

“They’re after the reactor,” his superior confirmed. “They’re going to try to breach the main passage by blasting through it. Stop them at any cost!”

Noting the urgency in Tseng’s voice, the rookie picked up his pace. “Roger.”

As soon as he had navigated over the last chunk of debris, he broke into a sprint, slowing only enough to maneuver the various passages crisscrossing through the reactor complex. It didn’t take long before he heard voices drifting down from a connecting passageway. More anti-Shinra personnel. He pursued the voices up the next hallway and nearly collided with the two men as he came around the corner.

“The Turks?!” one of them cried out in surprised alarm.

Before they had a chance to react, Alvis knocked them unconscious with the butt of his rod and continued on. They didn’t have the bomb; that meant that there were more of them inside. He couldn’t afford the time it would take to finish them off. He would have to deal with them later; his first priority was the explosives. He raced down another passage, following the trail of more voices. Sure enough, two more guards were posted up ahead. Behind them, another was standing guard over a man knelt in front of a heavy, sealed door. He was tinkering with some sort of device. The Turk recognized the bomb and shouted at the men, hoping that he wasn’t too late and that his presence might deter them from proceeding.

The first set of guards jumped to attention at the sight of him. “It’s the Turks!” they warned their comrades. “Call reinforcements!”

Pushing his way to the front, one of them raised a small handgun, holding it at arm’s length. A smirk twisted his face as he lined up the sights with the Turk and tightened his finger around the trigger. “Take this! You Shinra dog!”

At the last possible second, the rookie dove to the ground as a bullet whistled through the air over his head. He hit the floor shoulder first and rolled fluidly into a crouch. Finding himself within striking distance, he launched himself up from the squatting position and tackled the man’s legs out from under him. The gunman toppled over backwards, crashing into his comrade. Scrambling to his feet, the Turk switched on the electricity in his rod and swiped each man in the side of the neck. The electric shock rendered them instantly unconscious.

Further up the hall, the man setting the explosives turned his attention towards the commotion and watched as the Turk took out the front guards. Looking up at the guard next to him, he mumbled, “We’ve been found out, huh?” He needed to hurry.

The guard said nothing in return and took a defensive stance between his comrade and the advancing Turk as he got up off the floor and ran towards them. He stared the Turk down.

“Stop right there!” he ordered.

The Turk took no heed of the threat and met him head on. He swung his rod towards the man’s neck. His opponent shot an empty hand towards it, deflecting the blow with his forearm. A sharp tingling sensation shot up Alvis’s arm as the man made contact with the nerve at the base of his wrist. The motion knocked the rod from his hand, and a fist fight ensued. The two men stumbled back towards the man setting the bomb, bumping into him. The Turk swung a heavy fist at his opponent’s face and sent him toppling over the kneeling man. The bombardier dropped his pair of wire cutters as a red tint of color settled over his face. The veins in his neck bulged as he gritted his teeth.

Yelling just as much at his unconscious comrade as at the Turk, he shouted, “Don’t get in my way! We’re so close!”

The Turk glanced over at the fuming engineer just long enough to get his bearings before spinning around and releasing a sturdy round-house kick to the man’s chest. The bomb-maker stumbled backwards into the wall as the Turk took hold of his collar with one hand and smashed a fist into his face with the other. The man dropped to the ground next to the unset bomb and fell forward on his face.

Putting a hand against the cold metal wall, Alvis leaned against it heavily as he wiped the sleeve of his black suit across the sweat beading his brow before he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his collar. Seeing no other enemy troops around, he knelt to examine the bomb and made sure that it had not been activated before he opened his phone and rang headquarters. Tseng picked up halfway through the first ring.

“I’ve stopped them from setting the bomb,” Alvis reported, trying to still his heavy breathing.

“Good work. You’ve helped avert what could have been a disaster,” Tseng said, sounding pleased. He then informed the rookie that a cleanup crew was already in route to dispose of the bomb and re-secure the reactor. “Come back to HQ with Reno.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Turk looked down the corridor as he disconnected the call and realized for the first time that Reno hadn’t joined back up with him yet. He didn’t come after all… he thought as he pocketed the handheld and made his way back towards the reactor entrance.

* * *

In the shadow of Mako Reactor Eight, Reno laid face-down on the pavement. The man wearing the bandana stood looking down at him from a few feet away as Reno agonizingly pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. His face hurt, his ribs hurt, everything hurt. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to – losing a fight. He winced as he looked up towards the reactor entrance. The rookie materialized in the interior shadows and came running out of the darkened entrance. He came to a quick stop when he saw Reno on the ground. Recovering quickly from his shock, he activated his rod and ran towards his fallen comrade.

Seeing him coming, Reno shouted as loud as he could muster through his gritted teeth, “Get out of here, rookie! This guy’s trouble!”

Laughing at the Turk’s chivalry, the mysterious fighter ignored Alvis and stepped over next to Reno. He looked down at the Turk heaving pathetically on his hands and knees. The fight hadn’t lasted nearly long enough for his tastes. Frankly, he was disappointed. He frowned down at the Turk and told him cockily, “You’re finished.”

Grasping his hands together as one fist, he slung it down like a hammer to the back of Reno’s head. The Turk’s eyes lolled upward as he collapsed back down to the pavement unconscious.

“Reno!” the rookie shouted and sneered menacingly at the man looming over him.

“He was all talk,” the man with the bandana said haughtily as he stepped over Reno's prone form. Pointing an extended finger at the rookie, he beckoned him forward. “You’re next.”

Without considering his own skills or safety, the rookie rushed at him blindly, fighting more with rage and adrenaline than with thought or strategy. He forced the man onto the defensive as he rendered blow after blow. The man blocked most of the attacks and got in a few of his own on the Turk; although he mostly let the rookie throw the shots, allowing him to wear himself down.

“So you can fight a little,” the man praised him before his tone took a sinister turn. He caught hold of the Turk’s wrist wielding the baton and added, “But playtime’s over. I’ll make you regret having anything to do with Shinra!”

In one smooth motion, the man wrenched the weapon from the Turk’s hand and sent him flying through the air to land crumpled on the pavement several feet away. Alvis groaned as he rolled over and pushed himself up to his knees.

He’s strong! the Turk thought to himself. Who is he?

He looked past him as another trooper bearing the skull-and-crossbones emblem came running up the street towards them. The fighter followed his gaze and watched as the man trotted up to him.

“Shears, sir!” the man panted. “I have a message. Fuhito is saying that we’re all to gather at Junon.”

The man called Shears took the message in stride and turned his back on the two Turks.

“All right,” he ordered the newcomer. “You take care of these Turks here. They’re just about finished, anyway.” There was no mistaking the gloating in his voice.

The rookie tried to force himself up to his feet as Shears took off at a brisk pace.

“Right in front of me…” he mumbled to himself under his breath as he replayed the message in his head. He now knew their plans. He just had to survive long enough to relay it to Tseng. Raising his head, he shouted defiantly after Shears, “I’m not going to let you get away with this!”

But the man named Shears ignored him. He had to go after him. Shears appeared to be in charge of the attack. If the rookie could manage to follow him, then Shears might lead him straight to their base. But first he had to fight through one last anti-Shinra scum. Doing his best to move quickly while the man was still off guard, the rookie vaulted to his feet with the aid of an adrenaline rush. Snatching up his baton from where it had fallen, he lunged at the man and, smashing the metal rod into his temple, rendered him unconscious. As the man fell to the ground, Alivs heard movement behind him and spun around quickly, still on the defensive. Reno was standing behind him, brushing the dirt off of his mussed suit and untucked dress shirt.

“You saved me, huh…” Reno told the rookie as he took a few tentative steps towards him.

“I guess I did,” the rookie said, feeling a little pride in himself. “Who were those guys?”

* * *

[Turk Headquarters]

Tseng pushed open the doors to the director’s office and walked briskly across the room. He thumbed through a thick stack of papers and placed them in a pile in the center of Veld’s desk.

“Sir, our intelligence reports have come in,” he announced in a short, businesslike tone. “According to them, we’re dealing with a large terrorist organization. They call themselves ‘AVALANCHE’. We’re still looking into them, but that’s all we’ve been able to establish so far.”

“Have you found out anything about their movements?” Veld asked, flipping through the reports on the top of the stack without reading any of them.

“They seem to be gathering in Junon, sir.”

“Junon?” Veld’s eyebrows shot up. More bad news. “That’s not good. The President is there right now.”

Veld’s hand flew to the receiver on the corner of his desk. There was no time to waste.

* * *

[AVALANCHE Headquarters]

Pushing his glasses back into place, the scientist spoke down to his inferiors. “We’ve confirmed that President Shinra is in Junon. He seems to be there doing a military inspection. We’re going to head out immediately and meet up with Shears’ group.”

“Understood, sir,” one of the men answered Fuhito. “Preparations are complete.”

Fuhito was a thin man of moderate stature. His pale skin and narrow face made him appear as haughty as he acted. He had an intelligent and superior air about him that often made others uncomfortable in his presence. It was how a man such as him controlled others. Manipulation was all about presentation, and he had mastered the art. As he addressed his men, he went about slowly organizing the stacks and orderly piles of research arranged about his desk. As of the present moment, he was quite pleased with how the operation was progressing. His strategy was going precisely as he had orchestrated it. Still, there was one uncertain variable that could throw off the whole procedure.

“Have you been able to find the whereabouts of that SOLDIER I ordered you to track?” he asked curtly, masking the concern in his voice.

“Sephiroth?” the man asked for clarity as well as to buy himself some time. “…No, sir. We haven’t been able to confirm anything as of yet.”

“Please, try to establish his whereabouts as quickly as possible,” Fuhito ordered, his calm façade wearing thin. “If they bring him in, all of our plans will have been for nothing.”

“Yes, sir,” the soldier nodded affirmatively and left the room.

Turning then to the remaining troops, Fuhito cleared his voice and rose from his chair behind his desk. He walked slowly around it and headed towards them.

“Now then, everyone,” he announced, “to Junon – let’s move out. Down with Shinra!”

“Down with Shinra!” they echoed his cry.

* * *

[Midgar]

Shears led a group of his subordinates through the narrow streets. It was still dark, but the sunrise was growing near. They needed to move quickly. He turned to the men with him and relayed Fuhito’s orders to them.

“I’ve gotten a notice from Fuhito. We’re all going to Junon. Move out! Down with Shinra!”

“Down with Shinra!” they echoed.

* * *

“Reno, you are to leave for Junon immediately. The rookie too,” the Chief’s voice emanated from Reno’s handheld. “The President’s life may be in danger.”

“The President?!” Reno responded in alarm. The rookie looked at him in befuddlement, unable to hear the other end of the conversation. “Roger, we’ll leave right away.”

As soon as Reno had lowered the device, the rookie asked him, “Is the President being targeted?”

“Yeah,” Reno answered, sounding unusually serious as he broke into a jog towards headquarters. “We’re to head out to Junon straight away.”

The rookie fell into step next to him as all of their fatigue and pain seemed to vanish in the heat of the moment.

Chapter 9: 2: In the White Light of Day, the Assassin Smiles, part 1

Summary:

Reno and Alvis (Player Turk) arrive in Junon to protect the President.

[Junon]

A Shinra marked helicopter slowed and began its descent as it approached the city of Junon. The coastal city was on its way to becoming a major military installation. The technologically advancing city boasted such structures as an elevated airfield and Shinra’s pride and joy, the Sister Ray – a large, devastatingly powerful weapon relying on mako and energy provided by a huge materia stationed in the city's underwater reactor. Before the city’s construction, the neighboring countryside had been occupied by a quaint fishing village. With the erection of Junon’s massive structures however, the sun had been blocked over the village, and pollution began infecting the surrounding waters. Still, despite the hardships, the fishing town – anointed the moniker of Under Junon – continued to survive in the shadow of the colossal Junon.

The black Shinra chopper had barely touched down on the landing pad when its side hatch slid open and released two Turks onto the runway. Ignoring the gusts still being generated by the slowing rotor, Reno ducked his head and took the lead, hitting the ground running. He had already explained to the rookie the town’s layout and their course of action on the flight over. Leaving the harbor, he led the way down a side street. The hotel the President was staying in was close to the airstrip.

“This way,” Reno called back to the rookie, and Alvis had to hurry to keep up with Reno's long strides.

When they reached the main street, he angled off to the left where two men in Junon army uniforms stood guarding the entrance to a tall, ornate building. Robust brickwork and sparkling glass windows rose tall against the backdrop of the blue sky. It wasn’t nearly as tall or impressive as the Shinra Building in Midgar, but still impressive nonetheless.

The two Turks slowed their pace as they neared the hotel’s shadow, and Reno absently opened his phone and called headquarters.

“We’ve reached the hotel,” he reported.

“Head for the President’s quarters immediately,” Verdot directed. “He’s waiting there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Reno looked back at the rookie and nodded towards the building with a lift of his chin. Together, they crossed the street and approached the double glass doors facing the street. The two armed guards stood at attention on either side, rifles held across their chests. Seeing them approach, one of the guards moved to open the door for them and held it as they passed through. Reno gave the man a lazy salute as they were admitted inside.

A blast of frigid, conditioned air hit them as they stepped across the threshold. Alvis looked around the extravagantly adorned lobby as he followed after Reno. Underfoot, a lush red carpet blanketed the foyer, cushioning their steps with a pleasant springiness, and around the tops of the walls, shiny brass light fixtures accented the room. Across the room, a clerk behind a rich cherry wood reception desk smiled and greeted them as they entered. Several more guards stood posted around the foyer as well as by the elevators and stairwells.

Reno headed for the elevator and stopped to speak with one of the guards there.

“Keep up the good work, yo,” he told the man with a good-natured punch to the shoulder.

The guard only stared back at the overly-familiar Turk through the visor on his helmet and told him mechanically, “The President’s waiting for you.”

Without another word or gesture, the man stepped aside and let Reno access the elevator.

“If anything happens, let us know,” the rookie told the guards as Reno pressed the button for the President’s floor.

The other guard nodded. “Leave it to me, sir.”

* * *

Two men crouched in the shadows across the street from the hotel. One wore standard khaki fatigues; the other wore a significant red sash indicating his higher rank. The one in red searched the street and signaled the all clear by raising an open hand into the air. Then, jumping from his position, he rushed the Junon guards at the hotel’s entrance.

“Down with Shinra!” he shouted the AVALANCHE slogan.

The first guard fell as the other raised his weapon and aimed it at the AVALANCHE rebel.

“Who the hell are you?” he shouted in confusion.

The attack unit lunged at the second guard before he could get off a shot and eliminated him as a second squad of AVALANCHE reinforcements convened on the hotel entrance. The men gathered around the squad leader and readied their weapons. Their leader turned to them and began issuing orders.

“President Shinra should be somewhere in this hotel. Find him and kill him. We’re going in!”

Turning back to the hotel, he shattered the barricaded glass doors with the butt of his rifle, and the infiltration team flooded into the lobby in a shower of glass and immediately began engaging the Junon guards that had been posted about the interior as a full-fledged firefight erupted in the foyer of the grand hotel.

* * *

President Shinra stood next to the upper floor window with his hands clasped behind his back. He was a large man, looking rather like an overripe tomato in his constricting red suit. His slowly receding blond hair matched his short mustache. A smoldering cigar laid in an ashtray on a nearby coffee table, filling the room with its cloying scent.

“We’ll be looking out for you from here, sir,” Reno assured him as he checked the door for the second time.

“Veld sent you, did he?” the President said gruffly, making every effort to sound like the important man that he very much thought he was. “That’s good thinking on his part.”

An unexpected pounding suddenly rattled the door before the handle twisted and pushed inward, permitting a frantic guard into the room. His eyes were wide, though they were impossible to see beneath the thick visor of his helmet. Between sporadic breaths, he panted, “AVALANCHE is he–”

A flash lit up down the hall behind the guard seconds before a hole erupted in the center of his chest, spraying blood across the carpet and propelling him into the room where he landed motionless on the floor in front of the President’s desk.

President Shinra bolted up from his chair, eyes wide. “What was that?” he exclaimed as his eyes lingered on gruesome sight of the guard bleeding out before him.

“It’s all right, Mr. President,” Reno shouted as he and the rookie stepped into the space between the him and the door. “We’ll handle this.”

In the hallway outside, an AVALANCHE rebel in red garb ran towards them and burst into the room. His eyes, covered by a pair of dark, reflective goggles, scanned the room before landing on the President standing near the window. The man smiled sardonically as he sneered, “I’ve found you, Mr. President.”

Before the man could act, Alvis lunged at him, tackling him to the ground and knocking the gun from his hand. The two tumbled across the floor, grappling each other for an advantage, until the AVALANCHE rebel finally pinned the rookie Turk to the carpet and planted a firm fist into the side of his head. Leaping to his partner’s defense, Reno swung his EMR over the rebel’s head, knocking him out of commission with one blow.

“They’ve managed to get past the security guards,” Reno observed grimly, offering a hand and pulling the rookie to his feet. “They’re well organized, aren’t they?”

“Are these the same scum that attacked one of my reactors in Midgar last night?” the President asked incredulously behind them. “How dare they–”

A series of three chimes resounded from the back of the room, cutting off his mounting rage. A large telecommunication screen blinked on behind the President’s desk. After a few flashes, Chief Verdot’s face filled the screen.

“Sir, are you all right?” he asked the President. As he spoke, his probing eyes kept flickering away to focus on something else off screen.

President Shinra spun around on alert, then relaxed when he recognized the voice and saw its source. “Oh it’s you, Veld,” he sighed, appearing relieved by the sight of his personal security head, even if he was several miles away in Midgar. He wiped at his perspiring brow with a folded handkerchief and added, “I’m fine.”

Veld wasted no time with rhetorical questions. “Sir, AVALANCHE is after you. I really think you should put off the inspection. If you proceed with your original plans, you’ll make it easier for AVALANCHE to carry out their objectives.”

“No!” the President refused staunchly. “We’ll continue with the inspection as planned – we’ve got to show the public that we’re not afraid of a sniveling band of miscreants.”

Not to be put down, Veld decided to reinforce his point with visual references. “Then, Mr. President, please have a look at this.”

Veld’s face blinked away, and the screen was filled with fuzzy security camera footage showing multiple images of struggling Junon militia fighting off AVALANCHE rebels. The footage rolled on for several seconds before Veld’s voice cut in over the images again.

“This is what we’ve gotten from the hotel’s security cameras,” he explained frankly. “As you can see, a large number of them have already infiltrated the building.”

“What the hell is this?!” Reno cut in. “The place is crawling with 'em!”

“This is the reality of the situation,” Veld said sternly and matter-of-factly. “Do you understand now, Mr. President?”

“Veld, do something about it,” the President ordered flippantly, refusing to give Verdot the reaction of fear that he wanted.

“Very well. Please wait a moment,” Veld responded coolly, appearing indifferent to the President’s plight. “I’ve sent additional reinforcements to the hotel entrance. Reno, you stay there and guard the President.” Turning his gaze to the rookie, he added, “You’ll sweep the hotel and take care of any of the AVALANCHE members that you find.”

“Yes, sir,” Alvis nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Hurry,” the President said dramatically. “I’m behind schedule and I have a lot of things I need to get done today.”

The rookie hurried out of the President’s presence with eager steps and pulled the door shut behind him. Checking the hall in both directions, he opted to take the right passage and ran down it, weapon ready. The thick carpet dampened his footfalls, but would also mask the approach of his enemies. He slowed his pace and glanced around as he neared two doors at the end of the passage. The left door was open ajar. He peered in through the crack but could see no movement. Lifting his foot, he kicked the door open forcefully and rushed in as it ricocheted off the wall behind it. Inside, a lone AVALANCHE trooper spun around to face him, startled by his sudden entrance.

“A Turk?!” he exclaimed before regaining his composure. “Where is the President? If you tell me, I’ll spare your life,” he offered as he raised a gun threateningly.

The Turk wrinkled his face in anger and disgust. “Don’t even try that with me,” he warned him.

A commotion started in the next room and a second later, another AVALANCHE trooper entered the room him. Spinning around in time to see the man raise a gun, Alvis dropped to the floor. The bullet sliced through the air where he had been and slammed into the other soldier. Realizing that he had shot his own comrade, the second man faltered. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Alvis leaped to his feet, snatched up the fallen man’s gun, and took aim at the remaining enemy. A single, well-placed shot dropped him to the carpet and cleared the doorway.

Opting to keep the firearm, the Turk exited the room and continued down an adjacent hallway. A few meters in, he stopped at a flight of stairs leading down to the main level. If they shut down the elevators, they could better regulate the influx of AVALANCHE troops. He snatched open his phone to relay the suggestion to the Chief. As he did so, a sudden movement to his right caught his attention just as a chunk of the wall disintegrated in a cloud of dust next to his head. Jumping quickly into the stairwell, he waited for his attacker to catch up to him.

“Get him!” he heard one shout as they drew near. “We’ll get information about the President from him!”

“Down with Shinra!” the other put in arrogantly.

Stilling his breathing, Alvis pressed his back against the wall and threw his leg out as the two men rounded the corner. The one in the lead leaped down the first couple of steps before catching a foot on the Turk’s leg and went tumbling head first down the stairs. He landed at the bottom of the flight and remained motionless. The second man had come to a halt just before he would have been sent plummeting after his partner. When the Turk looked back, he was face-to-face with the man. Acting instinctively, he swung the butt of the gun around and smashed it into the side of the man’s head, then a gentle push sent him down the steps after his comrade.

Turning away, Alvis scrambled up the top few stairs and swung the emergency exit door shut. He double-checked the bolt and locked it securely. There was just one corridor left to check before the floor would be cleared. Only one room branched off of the right hall leading back to the President’s suite. The door handle was firmly latched and clicked loudly as he pushed it open. A quick precursory glance around the room didn’t reveal any intruders.

There’s nobody here… he thought warily.

Heavy footsteps pounded in the soft carpet behind him, and he whirled around as an AVALANCHE trooper filled the doorway.

“Where’s President Shinra?” he demanded.

“You’re not getting anywhere near the President!” Alvis sneered defiantly.

Angered by the Turk’s lack of compliance, the intruder lunged at him with the intent to kill. Alvis raised his firearm and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Dodging sideways, he brought the weapon down on the back of the man’s head as he hurdled past him. Unimpressed by the enemy’s fighting skills – or lack thereof – he made a mental note to include it in their report to Veld. AVALANCHE may be numerous, but a majority of their recruits had no fighting experience worth mentioning.

Tossing the empty firearm down by the prone trooper, he spun back out the door and headed for the corridor leading back to the President’s quarters.

“W-wa-wait! Wait a minute, sir!”

The rookie pulled up short as Reno’s panicked voice drifted to him from around the corner. It wasn't like Reno to lose his cool.

“I’ve waited enough,” the President’s voice boomed. “We’re going.”

President Shinra rounded the corner and came into view with Reno right behind him. Spotting Alvis, Reno waved and called out to him, “Yo! Rookie! What’s your status?”

“I’ve swept the floor,” he reported, jogging up to them. “We’re clear.”

Reno pursed his lips in a shrill whistle, impressed by the rookie’s quick handiwork.

“Good,” the President said impatiently over his shrilling. “We’re leaving right now.”

“Understood,” the rookie nodded and turned to lead the way to the first floor, followed closely by President Shinra and Reno.

Chapter 10: 2: In the White Light of Day, the Assassin Smiles, part 2

Reno stood shoulder to shoulder with the President in the cramped elevator while Alvis stood silently behind them, eyes on Reno. The senior Turk had his baton resting coolly on his left shoulder, but the constant rhythm his fingers tapped out on its handle belied his well-hidden anxiousness, as did the tenseness of his squared shoulders. The elevator descended quickly, and moments later, a soft chime filled the car before the doors slid open to the left and right. The second they did, the President brushed past Reno to be the first one off, leaving the Turks to hurry after him as he crossed the lobby.

The foyer that they had passed through just minutes before looked like a scene from a war zone. Bullet holes littered the parts of the walls that hadn't completely crumbled away. Surprisingly, the clerk's desk was relatively unscathed, save for one large splinter missing from the front left corner. The clerk himself peered cautiously over the counter after them. Bodies of both Shinra soldiers and AVALANCHE troops laid strewn around the perimeter of the room and protruded from behind nearly every potted plant, decorative column, and every other piece of cover they could have used. At the front door, the President's highly polished shoes crunched over the glass shards blanketing the lush carpet like snow as he stepped through the empty door frame. Reno and Alvis followed on his heels.

In the street outside, Shinra infantrymen swarmed around the perimeter of the hotel with weapons drawn. When the President stepped out of the main lobby, one of the men informed him that Chief Verdot had even more troops on the way. The President brushed right past the man without making any show of acknowledgment and continued out into the street. Reno ran to keep up with him as the rookie conversed with one of the guards concerning the evolving situation.

“We’ll hold our news conference in the Junon branch office’s press room,” the President spoke over his shoulder and continued walking as though his life were not in danger. “Gentlemen, I’m counting on you to watch my back.”

“Yes, sir,” Reno and Alvis replied in unison. As much as they hated the situation they were in, they knew they could do nothing about it. They may be among the most feared men within the company, but they were powerless when it came to giving the President anything resembling an order. Anywhere he was concerned, the best they – or anyone – could do was agree.

As they moved down the street, the rookie stepped off to the President’s left while Reno covered his right. Walking three abreast, Reno led slightly ahead of the others. On high alert, he bounced his baton against his shoulder at a slightly faster pace than normal, his eyes in constant motion. As they neared the end of the hotel building, he stepped in front of the alley between it and the next structure. His eyes quickly skimmed the dimly lit area for danger, but the space was void of any threats. He cast a quick glance over his shoulder to the President and shot him a confident everything's-okay grin. With a cock of his head, he indicated they were moving on.

“President Shinra!”

All three men jerked to attention at the sound of the voice. It sounded like it had come from the sky. Alvis looked to the rooftops across the street while Reno directed his gaze up the side of the hotel. There. A man was leaning out of a window on the hotel's third story. He wore a khaki uniform and had a similarly colored scarf tied around his head.

“President Shinra!” he repeated. “Remember this!”

The Turks watched helplessly as the man removed a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and dropped it from the window. Alvis grabbed the President by the arm and jerked him away from the building as Reno shoved him in the same direction. The grenade hit the sidewalk in the small space between Reno and the other two men. A small explosion followed, sending chunks of asphalt and dust high into the air as a blast of heat and energy hit Reno head on. The explosion knocked all three men off their feet. Reno landed on his back several feet away as the President and the other Turk collapsed in a tangled pile in the opposite direction. Reno stopped tumbling when he hit the building. With a groan, he shook his head as he pushed himself to his knees and waited for the ringing in his ears to stop. At the same time, his eyes drifted towards the street. It was empty.

“Mr. President!” he screamed, already staggering to his feet.

He squinted his eyes, staring desperately into the haze of smoke and dust filling the air. Pulling the collar of his shirt up over his nose and mouth, he waved a hand in front of his face as he started into the smoke. The air was quickly clearing, and he soon saw them on the ground. His heart skipped a beat until he saw Alvis pushing himself off of the President. The rookie had thrown himself between the President and the blast. The kid had guts. The President immediately sat up as well and eagerly accepted the hand Alvis offered him. The large man nearly pulled the young Turk back to the ground as he leaned heavily into the hand-up. Reno pulled his shirt back down and breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the rookie knock the dust from the President's shoulders and back.

“Sir, are you all right?” he could hear him ask the President.

“Yes… there’s no problem,” the President stuttered, visibly shaken by the close call. “But– they–”

Seeing that the President was unharmed, Reno turned his energy towards the AVALANCHE bombardier.

“Hey, rookie!” he shouted, pointing his baton at Alvis. “I’ll take care of the guy up there. You make sure the President gets to the press room safely.”

Alvis stared back at the other Turk, exchanging his gaze between him and the now empty third story window. “Understood,” he acknowledged, turning his attention back to President Shinra.

Reno's gaze had turned upward as well. His eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed in a show of menacing desire the rookie had never seen before. He looked out for blood – a look that personified the Turks' often over-popularized violent nature.

“This’ll be finished in no time,” Reno assured him in a carefree tone that contradicted his hateful countenance. He signaled to two Junon guards on the street and reentered the hotel.

The rookie watched Reno vacate the area and couldn’t help but think about what had happened the last time Reno had promised a quick job. Shaking the concerns from his head, he returned his attention to President Shinra. Four infantrymen stood nearby. He beckoned to them and led the way up the street with the President in tow. Before they had cleared the city block, voices of alarm rung out behind them.

“He’s here! Come on!”

The Turk turned as two men exited a building to their right.

“Do something! Quickly!” President Shinra demanded.

Three of the Junon infantrymen fired their rifles and stopped the assault before they had a chance to get close enough to shuck another grenade. The rookie glanced back at the President and saw several more of the rebels rushing towards their position from the opposite side the street.

“Mr. President!” the rookie shouted to get his attention then motioned for him to duck out of the line of impending fire.

President Shinra followed the Turk's line of sight and spotted the miscreants. With a scowl, he positioned himself staunchly behind his wall of infantrymen and ordered, “Kill them!”

“I found him! Get over here!” one of the rebels called out to reinforcements.

Rather than running off the street as the Turk had hoped, the President had planted himself defiantly in harm's way. Reno had warned him on the flight over that the President did things his own way. Even so, Alvis had not expected this show of defiance. But he was still in the line of fire. The Junon guards that had stopped the first two-man assault had turned around and taken aim at the approaching AVALANCHE squadron. Stepping in front of the President, Alvis added his body to the meat shield and quietly hoped it didn't get him killed. When the gunfire died down, the body count included two of their own security officers.

Lowering his baton, Alvis turned back to the President for his next orders. President Shinra's gaze settled briefly on the two dead guards, then, looking directly at the Turk, he sternly said, “We need to move faster. I don't like being out here in the open.”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Alvis replied courteously, schooling his face into an emotionless veil.

At the Turk's orders, the remaining infantrymen formed a protective flank around the President as they started up the street once more. Before moving on, Alvis stooped over to pick up a gun from one of the fallen soldiers and then slowly turned three-hundred-sixty degrees to survey the area. He couldn’t explain it, but something felt wrong.

“Hey, Turk!” one of the Junon guards yelled back at him. “Come on!”

The rookie cast one last look around, then ran to catch up with the President's entourage.

“What took you so long?” the guard asked, glancing around furtively.

The Turk shook his head. “I don’t know,” he tried to explain. “Something just doesn’t seem right.”

“You mean like having a hundred rebel lackeys trying to kill the President?” the guard said, taking on a joking tone.

“No, I–” the Turk cut the conversation short. From the corner of his eye, he saw a small spark of light in a lower story window. Before he could shout a warning, the crack of a rifle ripped through the air around them, and the guard in front of him, who had been between him and the President, stumbled and fell to the pavement.

“A sniper!” the Turk shouted, as he watched a spreading pool of blood appear from beneath the guard's fallen body.

The remaining guard moved into a defensive posture, positioning himself bravely between the President and the building from which the shot had come. Making eye contact with the Turk, he thrust the barrel of his rifle towards the building complex, ordering him forward. With a nod, Alvis cocked his weapon and turned towards the building. Looking through his gun's sight, he scanned the windows, looking for the sniper. Another flash alerted him to the shooter's exact location as the second guard dropped dead to the pavement beside him. President Shinra cried out in alarm as Alvis pulled the trigger. A pained grunt echoed down to them from the window as the sniper's rifle fell to the sidewalk below.

“Mr. President?!” Alvis exclaimed as the weapon clattered to the ground, and he spun back to the President, eyes scanning him for blood or signs of injury.

“The guard’s been killed,” the President bellowed, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide as he stared at the dead man at his feet.

At that moment, the sound of running footsteps echoed to them from down the street. Stealing a glance back over his shoulder, Alvis saw another attachment of AVALANCHE troops aiming for them. Without hesitation, he grabbed hold of the President's arm and took off towards the nearest alleyway, forcibly dragging him off the street as a bullet whizzed by his head. Shoving his charge into the alley, he spun back towards the street.

“Mr. President,” he said without looking back at him, “please wait here. I’ll take care of this.”

Checking his weapon, he darted back out into the street and found himself face to face with a firing squad. He dropped and rolled sideways as a volley of shots ripped into the building’s façade. Lifting his weapon, he returned some fire of his own and dropped two of the men where they stood. Taking aim at the third, he pulled the trigger, but he got only an empty click from the barrel. Tossing the worthless weapon aside, he jumped to his feet and rushed the soldier as he was loading another round of ammunition. Before he could shoot, the Turk struck him with his EMR, sending a debilitating electric shock through his neck. The Turk then stood in the middle of the street, his eyes sweeping the area in search of any more threats.

Finding nothing of alarm, he shouted back towards the building, “Sir, it’s all clear.”

At his call, President Shinra emerged timidly from the alleyway and walked slowly out to join the Turk in the middle of the street. Regaining some of his lost comfort, the President straightened his back and leveled his shoulders. He informed the Turk that the Junon branch office was located on the next block and urged him hurry as he spun on his heel and started back down the sidewalk at a brisk pace. Keeping his weapon ready, Alvis ran to catch up and positioned himself firmly at the President's left shoulder.

As the President had said, the office building appeared across the street halfway down the next block. Without a glance left or right, he stormed across the road and marched right up to the double glass doors. From the outside, it looked very much like the hotel, based on its architectural design. Two Junon security officers stood at the building's entrance. They saluted the President as he approached.

“They’ve been told we’re coming,” President Shinra informed his escort as the doors were pulled open ahead of them.

The Turk nodded in acknowledgment as he followed him inside. Another blast of cold air-conditioning greeted them, chilling the sweat on the back of Alvis neck. As they crossed the lobby, a loud chime came from the Turk's pocket. Raising his hand to dismiss himself from the President’s presence, he stepped aside and retrieved his ringing phone.

“Yes?” he answered.

“Don’t let your guard down until this meeting is over,” the Chief cautioned him, his voice somber. “I’m giving you the duty of guarding the President.”

Alvis frowned as he glanced back at the President. He had hoped that Reno would have joined back up with them by now. Swallowing his unease, he did his best to sound confident as he answered the director.

“Understood.”

Returning the phone to his pocket, he rejoined President Shinra on the other side of the lobby. He looked past him to two guards striding towards them. One of the men quickly flashed the Turk a form of identification and greeted the President.

“This way, please,” he said warmly and ushered them down one of the office hallways.

The second guard pointed down an adjacent hall to a room three doors down and explained, “It’s this way to the conference room, Mr. President.”

“Hm,” the President hummed, a good-natured aura returning to his eyes as he followed the men down the warmly lit hall to the previously indicated door.

One of the guards took up position beside it, standing directly in front of the plaque on the wall reading CONFERENCE ROOM 1, while the other pulled open the door and held it for them as he waved the President inside before following him through. Behind them, the second guard took Alvis by the arm before he could enter the room and spoke to him quickly.

“I almost forgot. I have a message for you from your boss. He called. Said he wants you to watch the entrance to the building to make sure nobody gets in.”

Alvis’s face wrinkled slightly as he processed the request. He thought it odd that Veld had not mentioned the order when he had called just moments earlier, but he agreed that the entrance needed watching.

“…I understand,” he consented hesitantly and headed back up the hall towards the entrance.

Behind him, the guard entered the conference room and shut the door after him with a quiet click. Halfway down the hall, he passed two more armed guards heading towards the conference room. He nodded to them in greeting. One man nodded back; the other kept his hard set face straight ahead. As Alvis neared the corner at the end of the hall, he slowed his pace and glanced back over his shoulder to watch them. The one with the scowl knocked once and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him; the other stood guard in front of the room. The Turk nodded to himself, feeling reassured by the influx of guards.

But the warm feeling quickly went sour in his gut as he neared the main lobby. His heart nearly stopped as he spotted a leg protruding from behind a large potted plant. Running over to it, he shoved the tall pot aside, tipping it over in his haste. It crashed to the floor, spilling a cascade of moist dirt across the polished tile. Behind it was revealed an unconscious Junon guard. The Turk knelt beside the man and rolled him onto his back. The guard’s eyes fluttered open and drifted around the room before focusing in on the Turk’s face.

When he had the guard’s attention, the Turk asked him urgently, “Who did this to you?”

The guard blinked his eyes several more times and wrinkled his brow. “They’re fakes…” he finally said with as much urgency as his pounding headache allowed. “The President is in danger…”

In that moment, everything clicked. Alvis cursed himself for not seeing through the plot earlier. Leaping to his feet and leaving the guard behind, he spun around and began racing back through the corridors towards the conference room.

* * *

President Shinra stood glaring at the three guards standing between himself and the door, trying not to let his fear show. Soon after being left by the Turk, he began to realize that the men claiming to be his guardians had no intention of protecting his life. The realization that anyone would be so bold as to cross him in such a manner made his blood boil. But there was nothing he could do about it as the three men slowly raised their weapons. The firearms clicked as three rounds were chambered.

“You… tricked me,” the President seethed accusingly, looking about him for a means of escape. He could see none.

Menacing sneers appeared on all three faces of his enemies. “Down with Shinra!” one of the guards shouted, removing his Junon guard helmet to reveal a bandana marked with the AVALANCHE insignia tied about his forehead.

The other two discarded their helmets as well, dropping them to the carpeted floor with hardly a sound. Eyes filled with malice and ill-intent bore into the President as the men began closing in around him. Facing them once again, President Shinra took several steps back as they advanced, until he backed into the desk behind him. The edge of the desk top pressed into the backs of his thighs, prohibiting him from retreating any further. His heart pounded rapidly as the lead guard sighted down his weapon at his sweaty face. As his finger tightened on the trigger, a loud thud and the sound of splintering wood erupted behind them. The three imposters turned in unison as a Turk stumbled in over the shattered door.

“Mr. President!” Alvis shouted in alarm as he saw the men step away from him.

Moving surprisingly light on his feet, the President scurried around the desk and took cover on the other side of it as the men rushed the Turk. Dropping to his knees, he covered his head as he pressed himself in tightly against the drawers, ignoring the uncomfortable prodding of the drawer pulls pressing into his back. He flinched as a gun discharged, followed by pained grunts and screams.

As the room fell eerily silent, he dared to rise up again. Grasping the edge with sweaty fingers, he pulled his face above the polished wood surface and peered hesitantly over the desk. His eyes quickly scanned the room until they came to alight on the rookie standing among a ring of fallen enemy recruits. With a sigh of relief, he quickly rose to his feet and placed his palms on the top of the desk. He leaned heavily against it as he waited for his pounding heart to slow.

“I won’t stand for this…” he growled, visibly shaken by the ordeal despite his tough talk. “But the public is on our side,” he said reassuringly to himself.

“Yes, sir,” agreed Alvis, trying to appease the President as he studied him. As far as he could tell, he was unharmed, though quite a bit shaken by his near death experience.

As he watched him, the observant Turk noticed a flicker of surprise in the President’s eyes before he physically reacted to what he saw. Alvis tracked the man’s gaze over his shoulder and spun around quickly, arms raised and ready for another bout.

“Sorry I’m late,” drifted Reno’s lazy voice, not seeming to take the slightest notice of the rookie’s on edge reaction nor the unconscious AVALANCHE troops scattered about the conference room floor. He twirled his baton offhandedly as he sidestepped the carnage around the door. His crystal blue eyes played about the room before alighting on the rookie before him.

“Reno!” Alvis shouted when he had Reno’s attention. “Thank goodness–”

Reno signaled him with a cutting motion across the throat, motioning him to be quiet, and tipped his head towards the President. The rookie looked back and saw President Shinra settling in in front of the large screen behind his desk, staring into a mounted camera. The rookie and Reno quickly stepped off to either side of him as the President began his televised speech.

“The Junon army is a people’s army,” he began in a powerful booming voice, saturated with confidence. “They’re here to serve and protect you all. Therefore…”

Reno glanced past the President to the rookie Turk as the speech droned on. “Looks like everything is going to be all right,” he whispered.

The rookie returned a short smile as he whispered back across, “That’s a relief.”

No sooner had the words passed his lips than the room became pitch black. The screen cut out without so much as even one spark of static, and the broadcasting camera presumably quit transmitting its signal as well.

“Huh? A blackout?!” Reno sounded alarmed and ordered, “Rookie! Stay close to the President.”

“All right,” he confirmed as he glanced around the darkened room, hand outstretched to search for the President in the darkness.

He pried his eyes wide, until he was finally able to spot the President still standing near his desk. Thankful that his eyes were already beginning to adjust to the darkness, he took a step closer to him as a loud chime echoed in the obscurity around them. He, Reno, and the President all startled at the sound of it. Reno recovered the quickest and removed the phone from his belt. The bright white light from the screen eerily illuminated his face in the pitch darkness as he held it up in front of him. It was the Chief calling. He turned the volume up to speaker so that all could hear.

“There’s been a bit of trouble with one of the mako generators on your floor,” the speaker echoed. “Is the President safe?”

“Everything’s all right on this end,” Reno answered in his usual unflustered tone.

The phone was silent as Veld considered the situation before finally giving his instructions. “Reno, you stay there with the President. Get your rookie to go and isolate the problem with the generator. It’s located on the far east side of the building further in. I’ll guide him through the corridors as he goes along.”

Reno confirmed the orders and flipped the device shut. “Hey, Rookie! You heard the boss man,” he said.

“Yes, sir.” Alvis nodded to Reno in the darkness and made his way quickly out into the hallway. He already had his radio out when he received Veld’s call. The leader of the Turks wasted no time with greetings or introductions.

“Take an immediate left as soon as you leave the conference room then take the right hallway when you reach the end of your current hall.”

“Alright,” the rookie spoke, thinking his voice much too loud in the darkness surrounding him.

Running his right hand along the wall for guidance, the Turk moved as quickly as he dared towards the designated crossways. When his hand fell upon open air he turned towards it and continued on his way.

“I just turned right where the halls met,” he informed Veld. “What’s next.”

“This hall is long,” Veld explained. “Stay on it for about thirty-five meters. At this point you will turn a corner to your right. Immediately around the corner on your left hand should be a narrow door that leads to a utility closet. The generator is in there.”

The Turk listened intently, memorizing the directions as he half walked, half jogged along the hallway. He followed his guide hand around the corner and felt across the hall for the door. By now, his eyes had become accustomed to the dim light, and he saw the clean outline of the door and a placard at eye level presumably reading utility room, although it was still too dark for him to make out any lettering. The door already stood open about an inch, and he pushed it the rest of the way in cautiously, prepared for an AVALANCHE ambush. When no immediate threat presented itself, he stepped inside and updated Veld on his location.

“I’m in the utility room,” he reported.

“The power lever should be on the back wall,” Veld said. “Pushing it up should restore the power. The readings we are receiving show no damage to the generator.”

“Okay,” the Turk said finding the switch exactly where Veld had instructed. He grasped the lowered end of the lever arm. “Here it goes,” he warned Veld. He pushed up on the switch and the lights in the hall blazed back to life, flooding into the utility room through the open doorway.

* * *

A diminutive hum accompanied the return of power to the conference room. Reno and President Shinra blinked at the sudden flash of light as their eyes readjusted to the brightness. When Reno opened his eyes again he was startled to see a man standing just inside the doorway, dressed in khaki army fatigues that were unfortunately becoming quite familiar to him. Gripping his baton, he regarded him with a harsh glare.

The man had slicked back brown hair and a pair of small lenses that rested low on his narrow nose. He carried himself in a delicate and superior air, and his eyes appeared accustomed to looking down on others. When he spoke, his voice was tinged with a dominant manner.

“It seems as if they were able to restore the power faster than I anticipated,” he lamented. “But, that shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. After all, we’ve stopped President Shinra from airing what I’m sure was a heartwarming speech.”

“AVALANCHE?!” Reno growled through clenched teeth.

“Right on the mark,” the man said, accompanying his words with a clear, irritating laugh that was clearly counterfeit. “You’ve already remembered our name, then.”

The bespectacled man then took a bold stride into the room, and Reno stepped in quickly between him and President Shinra.

“Don’t move!” Reno threatened him, brandishing his electricity harboring baton.

“Oh, please. There’s no need to rush,” the AVALANCHE conspirator said, waving his hand with a false graciousness as he introduced himself. “My name is Fuhito. I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

Chapter 11: 2: In the White Light of Day, the Assassin Smiles, part 3

“It worked,” Alvis announced as he turned back towards the relighted hallway.

“Good,” the Chief said, then ordered, “Get back to the President as quickly as you can.”

“Understood,” the Turk replied curtly and pocketed his phone as he left the utility room in a full sprint.

* * *

Reno glanced eagerly from the door to the President cowering once again on the other side of the desk behind him. He didn’t like the looks of the man that called himself Fuhito. Something about him came across as abnormal to Reno, and it made him uncharacteristically nervous.

Attempting to cover his uneasiness, he gave a light-hearted laugh and told the President over his shoulder, “This guy looks a bit tough.”

“Heh heh heh.”

Reno nearly jumped at the maniacal laugh as he turned back to Fuhito. The man’s laughter ebbed to a chuckle and, when it had subsided, added, “I’ll take that as a compliment. I’m glad we were able to have this little chat together. Unfortunately, this is where we must part ways.”

Then Fuhito took a bold step towards the Turk, grinning roguishly. Reno dropped back into a defensive posture as he advanced. He began calculating a way to evacuate the President, but was distraught when his thoughts came to a dead end. A drop of sweat trickled past his brow, but he didn’t dare take the time to wipe it away. His eyes followed the man’s every move as he tried to predict what he would do next.

“Halt!”

Fuhito and Reno both turned their focus to the open door and the hallway beyond. Alvis rushed into the room, flanking the AVANCHE conspirator between himself and Reno. As first, Reno thought he noticed a glimpse of surprise and confusion in the rookie’s eye as he took in the sight of Fuhito, but saw him quickly recover.

“Good timing!” Reno commended him, expressing genuine gratitude. “I’m going to take the President somewhere safe. You keep this guy busy.”

The rookie nodded grimly and stepped cautiously around Fuhito to place himself between him and the President and Reno. Already in motion, Reno hurdled the President’s desk and took him firmly by the arm.

“Come on!” he nearly shouted as he dragged the President towards the back wall. He lifted his foot and kicked a nearly invisible panel imbedded in the wall, and a narrow doorway revealed itself. He shoved the President through the opening ahead of him rather roughly as he ordered, “Through here.”

Fuhito casually watched the President escape. His apparent lack of concern unnerved the rookie, and he began to worry that Reno and President Shinra were heading into another trap. He had little time to consider the possibility however, because in the split second that he had been preoccupied, Fuhito had moved – fast. Alvis took in the man’s movements just as he revealed a firearm. He saw the muzzle flash and dodged just quickly enough to avoid a fatal wound. The shot seared his shoulder though, missing his chest by only inches. Pain raced down his arm, up his neck, and across his chest. He tried to refocus on his opponent, willing his mind to dismiss the fire in his body.

To the Turk’s surprise, Fuhito had moved in even closer. Rather than question the man’s strategy, he took the opportunity of having him within striking distance of his rod and unleashed a volley of strikes aimed at his opponent. However, Fuhito was unusually swift and few of his attacks hit their mark. Fuhito’s strikes, on the other hand, found his opponent repeatedly, beating him down with every blow. A jolt to the back of the Turk’s head distorted his vision and dropped him to his knees. Alvis held a hand to his head in an attempt to right his reeling vision and tried unsuccessfully to stand.

“What’s this? Are you tired already?” Fuhito asked mockingly behind him. “Well, if you’ll excuse me then, I’ll take my leave.”

The Turk moaned and gritted his teeth against the pain throbbing through his body. “Wait…” he slurred quietly.

Fuhito laughed as he turned his back to the Turk and faced the door. “Please, don’t fret. The day you take your last breath surely approaches. I will ensure that. In the meantime, please, enjoy the fireworks show we’ve got planned for you all. I’m sure you’ll find it most delightful.”

The Turk tried again to regain his footing and managed to do so only slowly. Squinting past the headache-induced haze clouding his vision, he stared after Fuhito. “Fireworks… show?” he mumbled tentatively.

Fuhito turned back to him momentarily to execute a mock bow and wave as he spoke, “Please understand that I only have the very best of intentions. Well, do take care.”

Suddenly, the man from AVALANCHE was gone from the room, leaving the Turk puzzling over his disappearance and parting speech. Picking himself up off the floor, Alvis rushed out into the hallway as quickly as he dared on wobbly legs and cast a look down both halls. He saw no sign of Fuhito in either direction. He started muttering curses, but swallowed them as his phone sounded off from his pocket. He snatched it to his ear.

“We’ve got an emergency situation,” the Chief's tense voice came across the speaker. “AVALANCHE has seized the mako cannon. Go there at once. If they fire that cannon, it’ll destroy company headquarters and Midgar in one shot.”

Junon’s Sister Cannon was a mako fueled weapon of mass destruction. Positioned at the top of the city overlooking the harbor, it was a major deterrent to any naval offense directed against the continent’s western shore. Now it appeared to be intended for use against its own territory. Alvis acknowledged the emergency situation with one word and bolted for the hotel entrance before he had even hung up the call. In that moment, his mind conjured the meaning of Fuhito’s “fireworks show.” The realization served to fuel his desperation, temporarily erasing all feelings of pain his body had been harboring from the confrontation. He stumbled out of the building and into the street. Looking up, he could see the mako cannon rising above the city landscape in the direction of the harbor and raced towards it.

* * *

Reno entered the safe room ahead of the President and turned a full three-hundred-sixty-degree circle, checking the area for danger. The place was set up similar to the press room they had just escaped from. Paneled walls were decorated with few pictures and lined with book shelves. Some cushioned chairs and potted plants sat about the room and across from the desk. The escritoire was large and heavy looking with an empty surface except for a small desk lamp, a stack of blank paper, and an ink pen. A large monitor screen covered the back wall over the desk.

Seeing no threat, Reno released his breath and turned back to the President to motion him inside with a wave of his hand. Reno closed and bolted the door behind him before following him across the room to the desk. Three chimes sounded from the screen up on the wall and a red light blinked in the bottom corner.

“You’ve got a call on video phone, sir,” Reno reported as he pressed the call button on the corner of the desk.

The screen flashed static a couple of times before a clear image filled the screen. An aristocratic young man with blond hair and intense blue eyes stared back at them. Several strands of stray hair fell over his eyes. His finely and well-structured face had a flawless complexion and exuded an air of both superiority and arrogance. A small smile graced his lips before being replaced by a serious stare.

“It looks like you’re having some trouble there, doesn’t it, old man?” he asked without a hint of concern in his condescending voice. “I’ve been watching from the closed circuit feed. You’re all right?”

“Oh, Rufus.” President Shinra looked back at the image of his son with a nearly identical blue-eyed stare. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you,” he told him gruffly, using the offhanded comment to hide his surprise.

“Hmph,” Rufus let the remark slide before turning his attention to the Turk in his father’s accompaniment. “Anyway, Reno. Keep an eye on the old man for me. Wouldn’t want anything to happen to him.”

Before Reno could give the President’s son his assurances, Rufus cut the feed short and the screen went black. Almost immediately another call rang across the monitor. Reno reached over and pressed the call button on the top of the desk again and the screen came back to life.

“Sir, we’ve got an emergency situation,” Chief Verdot’s voice sounded over before the image came on. “The mako cannon’s been seized.”

For the first time since entering the room, the President was again on high alert. “What did you say?!” he asked incredulously, fuming. “They think they can do whatever they want… Veld, I want you to move the security system from A to S.”

“Yes, sir,” Veld acquiesced with a slight nod of his head. He had already done so.

Turning to Reno, President Shinra continued to bark his orders, “Go to the Sister Cannon at once. Get it back, no matter what.”

Reno twirled his baton and spun on his heel to face the door. “Roger that,” he called back over his shoulder as he left the room.

Left alone, President Shinra turned back to the desk and pounded his fist down on it with enough force to rattle the lamp sitting on the opposite corner. He was visibly seething with anger. The thought that anyone had the nerve to cross a man in such a position as himself was infuriating. How dare they! To himself, he said out loud, “Those annoying vermin… I won’t let them have their way! There’s no way they can take my Midgar away from me!”

In his preoccupation, he failed to notice the door swing open quietly on its hinges behind him, nor the soft footfalls crossing the room towards him. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of movement and jerked around to face the intruder. He wanted to call out for help and shout obscenities at the cursed AVALANCHE scum that had trailed him to the presidential safe house, but his throat refused to articulate any sound whatsoever.

Fuhito stifled a coy smile and greeted the President with false camaraderie, “So we meet again, President Shinra. There’s no need to fear. Your death will release your soul into the Lifestream and help this planet. This won’t hurt very much. I promise you, it will be over soon.”

As he spoke, he raised a handgun from his side and played the laser sight over the President’s chest. A look of fear distorted President Shinra’s face before a muffled shot reverberated around the room. The President’s brow wrinkled in pain as both of his hands lifted to hold his torso. He dropped silently to his knees then collapsed completely onto the floor.

* * *

Reno straight-armed his way through the front doors of the Junon branch office and sprinted into the street. He cast a hasty glance around the immediate area for enemy soldiers and found none. About a block up the street, he saw Alvis racing towards the cannon as well. The Chief must have called him too.

“Yo, rookie,” Reno shouted after him. Alvis spun around at the sound of his voice and stood catching his breath as he watched Reno sprinting towards him. When he had caught up with him, Reno relayed the plan of procession. “I’ll take on the AVALANCHE troops closing in on the cannon; you should take the underground passage leading to the control center. Tseng can tell you what to do when you get there. You ready?”

The rookie, still breathing heavily, said nothing but nodded grimly.

“Good,” said Reno, slapping him on the back and turning his sights once again to the cannon standing high above the streets of Junon. “Then we’re going.”

He led the way towards the cannon with the rookie in tow until the time came for them to split ways. Pointing with his baton, Reno directed the rookie towards the entrance to the underground tunnel that led below the cannon. With a nod, Alvis veered towards it. Reno flashed him a parting grin of encouragement and continued on towards the cannon while the rookie entered the underground passage.

* * *

President Shinra groaned as he pushed himself up off of the floor. He looked down tentatively at the burning hole in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, although it didn’t show much against the red cashmere suit he wore. Covering the gunshot wound with one hand, he used the other to pull himself up to the desk, leaving a bloody handprint on the edge of it. He leaned heavily against the polished wood surface as the videophone flashed back on.

“Sir!” Veld’s voice, saturated with alarm, carried through the speakers. When the President didn’t answer him, he shouted, “Mr. President!”

“I’m… not dead yet. I’ll… get them…” the President swore under his breath. Without looking at Verdot on the monitor, he raised his voice and barked a new order to the head of the Turks. “Sephiroth…” he shouted as loud as his burning lungs could muster. “Call Sephiroth!”

Chapter 12: 3: Swords Clashing in the Evening Shadows, part 1

Reno's long strides ate up the ground as he kept his gaze set on the silhouette of the cannon. The architectural marvel had never looked more foreboding to him than it did in that moment, turned so that its gaping bore was aimed for Midgar. As he raced through the streets towards the hijacked weapon, he called to every infantryman he passed by. The lot of men he had taken into his company wasn’t much, but they were all he had. Ahead of them, he could see a squad of AVALANCHE troops forming a barrier across Junon’s main street. Reno brought his men to a walk and strode slowly towards the awaiting enemy troops. He shot the enemy a narrow-eyed glare as he stood facing them, his chest heaving and nostrils flared.

“Will you look at that,” he told his squad with a low whistle. Pacing before his small army, he jabbed his baton menacingly towards the line of AVALANCHE soldiers. “Are you guys ready for this? We’re going to break our way through that blockade.”

Up the street, the rebels watched the Turk and his infantry as they resumed their approach. One man stepped out from the group and met Reno’s gaze. He looked arrogant and unconcerned as he smiled tauntingly at Reno. Turning back to his troops he shouted his orders.

“Don’t let a single enemy get through here!” his voice boomed. “We’re going to keep this road blocked off until the mako cannon is fired!”

Hearty shouts and jeers erupted from the men as their captain turned back to fix Reno with a menacing sneer. Glancing over his shoulder, Reno saw his own men watching the AVALANCHE captain and the raucous group of rebels staring them down. He could see that some of his men were lacking conviction. He couldn’t have that. They needed a reinforcement, a better view of reality.

“All right, men,” Reno shouted, trying to rouse them. “Listen up: if that cannon goes off, it’s goodbye Midgar. That’s why we’re going to do everything we can to get that cannon back!”

Behind him, the AVALANCHE captain shouted over him to his own men, “Victory lies ahead of us! Down with Shinra!”

Then, leading his troops with a battle cry, the man turned and ran straight towards the Shinra infantry. His men were close behind, with raised weapons and angry shouts. Reno had time for one last word of encouragement to his troops before rushing into the battle himself, trusting them to follow.

“Alllll right,” he shouted. “We’re going in! Charge!”

* * *

Beneath their feet, Alvis found the entrance to the underground passage and entered cautiously. The tunnel was dark, but a string of intermittently placed lights ran along the ceiling, lighting up a few feet of the corridor at a time. As he made his way down it, he called Tseng to obtain his next set of instructions.

“I’ve reached the underground pathway, sir.”

“All right. Here's the situation,” Tseng began briefing him. “AVALANCHE has shot the President. They’ve also managed to seize the mako cannon. That’s why we’ve moved security from level A to S, thereby activating Shinra’s emergency failsafe security system. The cannon’s security system has also been lifted to the highest level, effectively shutting them out from the system.”

“That’s encouraging,” Alvis murmured, still jogging down the dim tunnel. His footsteps echoed loudly around him.

“The Chief is with the President right now,” Tseng continued. “He’s going to be coordinating our movements from there so that we can move quickly to get the situation here under control. I’ll be relaying your instructions to you in the meantime.”

The Turk nodded, “I understand. What should I do?”

“Reno’s cohort is heading for the cannon. I want you to head for the cannon’s control room using the underground passage. You’re going to finalize the lockdown sequence for the cannon from there.”

“Yes, sir,” he assured him.

The Turk delved into the semi-darkness under the streets of Junon. Fortunately, there was only one tunnel to follow. The metal walls were cold to the touch as he ran his fingertips along the smooth surface. Occasionally some of the lights would blink out momentarily before returning to their full brightness. Ahead of him, the Turk saw the entrance to a large room lit up by the ceiling lights. He checked his position. As best as he could figure, he was only about halfway through the tunnel, so he ruled out the thought that he may have found the control room already.

A terrified scream echoed out of the room and down the tunnel. The eerie sound stopped the Turk in his tracks. When the air fell silent, he regained his wits and, chiding himself for freezing up, ran towards the sound. Upon entering the room, he saw the bodies of several AVALANCHE rebels strewn across the floor. Their khaki uniforms were spotted with blood. Across the room from him, he saw the source of the carnage. A row of seven high-powered, top-of-the-line, Shinra-made machine guns was mounted along the top of the wall. A faint haze of gun smoke hung like a cloud near the ceiling. He thought it odd that he hadn't heard the gunfire until he noticed the thick silencers wrapped around each barrel. Shinra’s emergency failsafe security system, indeed. Impressed by their handiwork, he strode to the center of the room, scanning the walls for the door leading on towards the cannon. He looked up at the firing squad again.

There’s no way anybody can get through something like this, he thought with a rue smile.

Then, an overhead speaker crackled loudly, startling the Turk. A robotic voice came over the intercom. “Intruder detected.” Red lights located along the ceiling and walls began flashing in a designated sequence. On, off, on, off. “Elimination subroutine activated.”

“What?!” the rookie shouted. “What’s going on?!”

The security system whirred to life as each of the mounted weapons turned their barrels towards the center of the room. Alvis backed slowly away. The sound of metal on metal echoed from across the room. He looked quickly in that direction and saw that another door had opened up, giving him a way out… and he took it. A trail of rapid fire flowed after him as he dived for the exit. Hitting the floor in the tunnel beyond, he somersaulted and came up to his knees. Behind him, sparks ricocheted around the doorframe as he looked back towards the deathtrap he had just escaped from.

Why?! he wondered. The security system should be able to distinguish between Shinra employees and intruders.

He called Tseng.

“Are you all right?” Tseng answered.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said quickly. “But it looks as if the security system is malfunctioning.”

“Calm down and listen to me carefully,” Tseng said evenly. “The emergency failsafe security program has been activated to the highest level. The way the security system works at that level, the robots and other features of the system target anything that moves. The system was designed to eliminate anything that remained in the building once that security level had been activated.”

“In other words, the security program will attack without discrimination,” the Turk said unenthusiastically.

“That’s right. But you still have to get to the cannon’s control room and lock down the cannon!”

“I’ll do it, sir,” Alvis promised and disconnected the call.

He loosened his tie and collar as he started up the tunnel beyond. Several smaller branches led off of the main one, but he stayed on course. To the best of his knowledge, the cannon control room was still further along. Picking up his pace, he ran headlong down the corridor towards the control room, hoping he wasn't too late.

* * *

[Turks Headquarters, Midgar]
Tseng paced the hall outside of the director’s office. He would prefer to be out in the field himself rather than waiting around headquarters. But Verdot had given him his orders, and he would fulfill them to the best of his ability, regardless of what he preferred. The rookie was doing well. And Reno…

Then it occurred to him, and he thought, Reno hasn’t contacted HQ yet…?

Running to the row of monitors, he began streaming through the vast list of security cameras stationed around Junon, quickly scanning each chaotic scene for signs of his redheaded comrade.

* * *

[Junon]
Reno hitched in a labored breath as he pushed the goggles further up on his forehead and wiped the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. His breaths continued to come frequently and heavily. His arms and chest ached, and his legs felt like rubber beneath him. All around him laid the bodies of men in khaki fatigues, along with several of his own men.

Shielding his eyes, Reno squinted up the street and grimaced. Another battalion of AVALANCHE troops were making their way towards him.

“There’re still lots of ‘em left, huh?” he said with a scowl. He spit to the side and glanced around at his remaining men. He had maybe half of his force left. They would have to do.

* * *

Four AVALANCHE operatives gathered inside a darkened corridor under the streets of Junon. Two more men stood at the only exits leading to and from the tunnel. The control room was not much farther. In the next room over, their comrades were making the final preparations for commandeering the cannon. The squad leader peered through the doorway then turned back to his men.

“The preparations for the firing of the Sister Cannon have been completed,” he announced. “This is Midgar’s last day.”

“We’ve waited a long time for this day,” one of his men responded with a grin.

“That’s as far as you’re getting,” a voice echoed into the room from the lower tunnel.

The men startled at the sound and looked around the room. The guards patrolling the exits returned their attention to their respective tunnels on high alert. The one at the lower tunnel let out a short cry before falling to the floor in a heap, and Alvis rushed in, stepping over the body of the fallen guard.

“The Turks?!” exclaimed the AVALANCHE leader nearest the control room entrance. “They’re going to try to stop us!”

“That’s why I’m here,” Alvis returned with a cocky smile.

“How are you going to stop all of us by yourself?” the leader challenged with an evil chuckle. “It looks like you came all the way down here for nothing.”

“I will stop you all by myself! I am not letting you fire that cannon!” the Turk warned, jabbing the end of his baton towards them with emphasis.

An angry sneer twisted the captain’s face. Rallying his men, he pointed a threatening hand at the meddling Turk and ordered, “Kill him!”

Three of the men rushed at the Turk, taking aim with their firearms as they advanced. Alvis tucked into a roll and hit the ground as an array of firepower erupted over his head. When he came back up, he found himself at the feet of one his attackers and rammed the butt of his rod into the man’s knee. The trooper’s knee cap slid out of the joint with a sickening pop, and the man collapsed with a cry of pain. The Turk wrested the weapon from him and took aim at the other two men standing off to his right as they both opened fire on him. Steeling his nerves, Alvis held his aim on them without taking cover from the hail of bullets. As he knelt there, the rounds flew past him and pounded into the wall of the tunnel behind him. Alvis tightened his finger around the trigger and shot off two bullets, each one hitting their target with deadly accuracy.

The AVALANCHE captain watched as his men fell swiftly.

“You – you bitch!” he roared, seething with outrage.

The Turk stood slowly and leveled his firearm at the man raging between him and the control room. Steadying the weapon with both hands, he drilled him with a deadly glare.

“Get out of the way. I’ll shoot,” he warned him sternly.

The man ignored the threat and summoned the last of his men, ordering them to charge the lone Turk. “Get him!” he howled.

As they advanced, Alvis took quick but careful aim and dropped all three before they had crossed the room. When he finally lowered the weapon to his side, his phone rang shrilly from his pocket. When he opened it, Tseng’s voice blared loud and frenetic.

“Alvis! Are you there?! Pick up!”

“Tseng?!” the Turk asked, unsure he had ever heard Tseng sound anything but collected. “Calm down, sir.”

“We’re in trouble,” Tseng explained quickly. “The cannon’s override switch has been activated.”

The gravity of the situation fell on the Turk’s shoulders and a look of worry shadowed his face. “What can I do?” he asked hurriedly.

“Go to the control room and shut down the override!” Tseng directed.

“Understood,” the rookie spoke as he broke into a full out sprint towards the control room door. “How long do we have until the cannon fires?”

“One minute. The control room is up ahead,” Tseng dictated. “Hurry!”

“Roger.” The rookie returned the phone to his pocket as he left the room at a full sprint. Please, let me make it! he prayed.

He dove through the door into the darkened room beyond and didn’t slow down as he rounded a corner in the room. The area was only partially lit by a dozen monitor screens. When he saw it, the Turk nearly came to a complete halt. Barely missing tripping over a fallen AVALANCHE trooper, he stopped and cast a quick glance around the room. Numerous bodies were scattered haphazardly about. They were all gruesomely dismembered and had deep slash marks crisscrossing their bodies. Several were even missing limbs. Similar gashes were etched into the walls, floor, and ceiling as well. Blood splatters, still bright and fresh, glistened on every surface of the room. The horrific scene made the Turk’s stomach turn nauseous as he stepped over the mutilated bodies into the middle of the room.

“This is …” he began to speak, but couldn’t finish the thought out loud. …terrible… What could have done this?

His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and it wasn't from his flight through the underground passage to get there. Treading lightly around the bodies of the men, he made his way across the antechamber. At the entrance to the control room, he took a moment to peer around cautiously. He felt a slight tremor in his hands and willed them to still.

Preparing to face the worst security features imaginable, Alvis stepped inside and cast his eyes over every inch of the control room. A complex control board spanned the length of one wall of the room. Several wires ran from the machine to the ceiling and along the walls. Multiple monitors flashed various images, charts, and data tables above the main switchboard. But no signs of life stirred the air.

There’s no one here, he thought, feeling slightly relieved.

Then his phone went off, sounding deafeningly loud in the eerie silence, and he answered it quickly to silence the noise.

“Good job, rookie,” Tseng praised him, sounding much relieved himself.

“Huh?” asked Alvis, looking warily around the control room.

An uneasy quiet filled the line as Tseng fell silent. “You stopped the cannon, didn’t you?” he finally asked, almost as though it were an afterthought.

“What are you talking about?” the rookie asked hurriedly. “I just now got into the control room. I’m about to stop the cannon from here.”

“Now…?!” Tseng asked, sounding tense again. “It wasn’t you? Then who…?”

“I do have something to report, though, Tseng,” he interrupted him. “I just came across a whole squad of dead AVALANCHE men in the room just before this one.” He intended to describe their gruesome condition, but couldn’t stomach the thought.

Tseng remained silent on the other end. It couldn’t be… him?! he reasoned. No, that can’t be right. That’s too fast, even for him.

“Whoever it was that did it was no amateur, sir,” the rookie added. “Only someone with a lot of skill could have done that.”

Tseng said nothing to the rookie, but thought, Then it might be him after all…

Chapter 13: 3: Swords Clashing in the Evening Shadows, part 2

Alvis crossed the room to examine the control panel. A massive number of switches, levers, buttons, and flashing lights covered the face of the apparatus. He wouldn’t have known which button to press or which switch to flip even if he had been the one to shut it down. He let his hand hover over the interface as he made his way along it, scanning the switches as he went.

The shutdown switch should be over there, he thought. There. He spotted a lever labeled as such, and it had indeed been pulled. Somebody did stop the cannon from firing…

“Shinra! I won’t let them get away with this!!”

The Turk’s head jerked up as he heard a faint voice screaming from the room behind him.

“You did this.”

The voice was louder this time. Alvis spun around as a female figure entered into the dim light of the room. Her reddish brown hair framed a small delicate face. A green uniform and a khaki cape cloaked her slender body. The colors of her clothing were unmistakable to the Turk, though her sex did catch him somewhat off guard. The glare in her grey-colored eyes was deadly as she stood in the doorway facing him.

“AVALANCHE… right?” he confronted her.

“That’s right,” she answered him, her voice cool and even. It had a husky, yet graceful timbre to it that surprised him. At her side, she tightly gripped the hilt of an unsheathed katana. With her eyes locked on the Turk, she raised it, pointing the tip of it at him. “I’ll have your head for what you did to my comrades!”

Before Alvis could deny the carnage in the room behind her, she lunged at him, darting forward with surprising agility. He raised his weapon and tried to take aim at her, but she was upon him too quickly. He barely had time to react as she took her first swipe at him. The attack deflected off his rod, but more slashes followed in rapid succession. Several of her strikes found their target, and the Turk suffered an exceptionally painful blow to his side, knocking him across the room. The wind was knocked from him as he hit the floor and tumbled to a stop with his back to the woman. His hand flew to his side as he rolled over to face her. A searing hot pain spread out from his ribs. Daring to look, he saw his flesh through a long gaping slit in his jacket and shirt. An equally long gash laid open over his ribs, pouring out blood. It wasn't deep, but it was still serious.

Cursing the situation, he staggered to his feet, still clutching his side. He was near one of the exits and spun through the open doorway.

“Disgraceful,” the woman shouted at him as she strode after him in pursuit.

Ignoring the disparaging remark, Alvis stumbled out of the control tower and into the sunlight bathing the military airstrip. The shadow of the Sister Cannon spread out over the pavement as he staggered along beneath it, holding on to his wounded ribs. Behind him, steady booted footsteps echoed on the concrete. The Turk hurried to the end of the deck and looked down at foaming the ocean a few dozen stories below. There was no way down. He heard the footsteps stop behind him, but couldn't bring himself to turn around to face her. For a moment, the two of them stood in silence.

The woman stared at him, watching him sway with defeat as he stood staring down at the frothing sea below. There would be no escape for him. “A fitting end for someone like you,” she remarked, reading his thoughts.

The Turk then turned his head just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye. This is the end… he thought.

Raising her sword, she took a step towards him and screamed, “Down with Shinra!”

“That’s as far as you go,” a deep, powerful voice spoke behind them.

Alvis saw her eyes flicker. It was the first show of weakness he had seen in that cold, hard face. She spun around, her cape whipping about her knees. Three paces away stood an imposing man, tall and slender, with broad, armored shoulders. Long silver hair floated softly from behind his back on a light, sea breeze. His malachite eyes and calm demeanor were unnerving. In his left hand was an impossibly long blade, its tip slightly upraised towards her. The woman’s heart raced. She recognized this man, this SOLDIER.

“It can’t be,” she stuttered. “You’re…”

The SOLDIER swung his lengthy sword down at her. The woman instinctively raised her weapon and blocked his blow. The man’s sword crashed down upon hers, halting inches above her upturned face. The force of the impact rippled through her arms, her shoulders, her legs and feet, and into the ground beneath her, creating a shallow crater in the concrete around them.

Sephiroth leaned heavily into the weapon lock. An amused smile pulled at the corners of his thin lips as his eyebrows raised slightly. His steely gaze intensified as he stared down at her between their blades.

“Impressive,” he mused, his eyes locking with hers. Without letting up, he took another step towards her, moving so close that the toe of his boot bumped against hers. And he bore down harder.

The woman’s mouth turned down in a concentrated frown as she struggled to stand under the pressure of both Sephiroth’s attack and his gaze.

“So it is you…” she said with a grunt as she finally thrust the SOLDIER’s weapon off and staggered several steps back from him. “Sephiroth.”

Sephiroth did not seem amused by her recognition. He relaxed his weapon and took a step towards her again. To his surprise she did not retreat from him. “What is your name?” he asked her.

The woman at first hesitated, studying him distrustfully before she relinquished the information he asked for. “I am Elfe,” she said, lifting her chin proudly in a show of bravado she surely did not really feel. “The leader of AVALANCHE.”

Elfe then raised the tip of her sword and pointed it at SOLDIER’s chest, commanding him to keep his distance. Sephiroth’s icy gaze flickered to the tip of the weapon then back to the woman’s eyes. Undaunted, he took another step towards her, allowing the sharp point of her katana to rest against the two leather straps crossing his bared chest.

With a scowl, she looked at where her weapon rested against him and then up to the man’s face. “Sephiroth, why do you fight?” she asked him. Her eyes searched his face as she awaited his response.

But the SOLDIER remained silent. It seemed he would not answer her.

Elfe’s eyes flickered away from Sephiroth's for a brief moment, appearing unsure before restoring eye contact with him. When she did, there was a spark in her eyes and a steadiness in her voice that was not there before. “We are fighting for a reason,” she said defiantly. “By retreating today we are victorious.”

Keeping her sword planted against his chest, she took a few tentative steps around to the side of him. He turned his head to follow her with his gaze, but when he did not move to block her path, she withdrew her blade and turned back the way she had come. Sephiroth watched her retreat and when she was gone, he turned his attention to the Turk still standing nearby.

“You over there,” he called.

Alvis straightened up as Sephiroth addressed him and took a few labored steps towards the SOLDIER, ignoring the pain in his ribs.

“I sense an exceptional energy coming from her. Tell your superiors not to take her lightly,” Sephiroth instructed the Turk.

Alvis nodded, although the SOLDIER had already turned his back on him. Sephiroth cast one more look in the direction Elfe had fled before turning aside and going his own way. The Turk watched him pass under the cannon’s shadow. Where he had come from and where he was headed next, he did not know.

* * * * * * *

[Turk Headquarters, Midgar]
Alvis joined Reno as they entered the director's office. Upon their return from Junon, they had been asked to report directly to the Chief. Standard procedure, Reno had told him. Still nursing his stitched up ribs, Alvis followed Reno off the elevator and into Verdot's office. Another Turk was there as well. Taller even than Reno, he had a rock-solid build under his tailored suit. He sported a golden tan complexion and a shaved head. A pair of dark glasses obscured his eyes and several silver earrings adorned his right ear. His strong, square jaw was firmly set by a slightly down-turned mouth. It wasn't necessarily a frown, but it was plausible that he didn't smile much. He looked all seriousness and personified the intimidating side of the Turks. He cast Alvis and Reno a momentary glance and lifted his chin slightly at Reno. Reno returned the welcoming gesture. The two men seemed to share a close camaraderie.

The Chief rose from his desk as they entered. “Good work, you two,” he welcomed them. “You did well. The President’s still alive, and we’ve protected Midgar.”

The rookie looked away, unable to meet Veld’s eyes as he looked at each of his men. “I didn’t do very much, sir.”

Verdot turned to him with a knowing look in his eye. “The President had already summoned Sephiroth,” he told the rookie. “You did as much as you could, given the circumstances.”

“The 1st Class SOLDIERs are in a category all their own,” Reno added with a dismissive wave of his hand, then turned back to the Chief. “So what are we going to do from here? AVALANCHE is going to keep up their attacks.”

“That’s already being taken care of,” Veld answered quickly. “The President has decided to bring in SOLDIER to deal with AVALANCHE. However, they're short on manpower, so you’re going to recruit SOLDIER candidates. Reno, Rude. I’m leaving this mission in your hands.”

The Turk named Rude nodded slowly. “Understood,” he affirmed, speaking in a deep baritone voice. He then turned to Reno and frowned. “……Hmph. So I’m working with you again.”

“What are you saying, Rude?” Reno asked, feigning shock. “Admit it, you’re happy you get to work with me.”

Rude stared at him silently from behind the dark lenses of his glasses. “……Let’s get to work,” he finally said, stepping past him and angling towards the door.

“Yeah, I guess we should get started patrolling,” Reno agreed as he followed after him.

Stopping in the open doorway, Rude turned back into the room and pointed at the rookie. “You’re coming too,” he ordered.

The young Turk squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 14: 4: Proof of a Scar Filled Existence, part 1

Summary:

Chapter 4 of FFVI BC, in which Reno, Rude, and the player Turk are sent to Costa del Sol to collect SOLDIER candidates...

March 16, 0001

[Costa Del Sol]

Costa del Sol. Famous for its golden sands and turquoise waves, warm sea breezes and luxurious resorts. What it wasn’t famous for: smoky, dimly lit bars and foul smelling fight clubs.

This is it… Club Duel, thought Alvis.

A packed dirt floor released clouds of dust as the Turk made his way down the narrow hallway. The walls were roughly plastered and chipping away in various places, and covered in a layer of filth and dust. Six broad-shouldered men lined both sides of the hall. Bouncers. Up ahead, the corridor opened into a wide room packed with people. Loud cheering of men and women’s voices could be heard inside.

Alvis passed the men guarding the doorway without so much as a glance and stopped at the entrance to the dimly lit room. A makeshift fighting ring had been erected in the center, constructed of short wooden posts and stained, fraying ropes. All around it, a rowdy cluster of men and women crowded up against it on all sides. Some were overdressed for the venue, but most appeared to fit right in. The air inside the arena was stuffy and had the acrid scent of sweat and blood. Inside the fighting ring, two men stripped to the waist were going at it, beating each other with their fists.

“Go, King! Get ‘em!” shouted a man from the crowd, shaking his fist at the boxing ring.

Around him, the cheering grew louder as the fight escalated. The Turk watched unnoticed from the doorway at the back of the crowd

“Don’t let him get you!”

“Mess him up good!”

Alvis studied the two men in the ring. One was rather short and didn’t look all that strong, but he was quick. His opponent had a much larger build, with bulging biceps and an impressive chest and back. Despite his size, he moved just a fast as the smaller man and had a definitive advantage.

As Alvis watched, the larger man ducked a hook punch from his opponent, then, in one smooth motion, spun his body around and landed a solid kick on the other man’s bare chest. A loud thud sounded on impact, and the man flew back out of the ring. The crowd scattered as he flipped over one of the ropes and tumbled to the floor. The audience watched with bated breath as the man slightly stirred before covering his head protectively with his arms and curling into a defeated ball.

An eruption of applause swiftly followed as the volume of the attendees rose to a dull roar. “King! King! King! King!” they shouted for the victor.

The man in the ring puffed up his chest and strode around the ring with an upraised fist. A sheen of sweat glistened on his skin, and his nostrils flared with the same rhythm of his panting breath, but he hardly appeared tired. “Come on!” he challenged, shouting above the clamor. “Isn’t there anyone here that’s tough enough to beat me?”

The Turk watched the man’s display of strength with admiration. Strength is what they looked for in a SOLDIER candidate, and this man certainly fit the bill. Stepping over the threshold, Alvis hurried across the room towards the gathered crowd and began pushing his way through. Halfway to the ring, a burly man stepped into his path, barring his way. Alvis put out his arm and attempted to skirt past him, but he refused to budge, instead staring down at him with a studious glare, taking in the infamous black suit no doubt.

“Hey, you can’t just come in here,” he warned the Turk as he reached out and took a fistful of his lapel. “You know what kind of place this is?”

Alvis eyed him coldly and forcibly removed the man’s hand from his suit. “Of course I do,” he retorted. “Now get out of my way. I’m working.”

When the man didn’t move aside, the Turk landed a well-placed fist in the center of the man’s face, efficiently knocking him unconscious. The man went down like a sack of bricks, startling those in the crowed nearby as they scurried out of his way. A man in the crowd got the attention of one of his companions and pointed at the bouncer lying on the floor.

“No way,” he stammered.

“He took him out with one blow?!” his friend asked in disbelief.

From the ring, the victorious duelist watched with piquing interest. Striding boldly to the edge of the arena, he grabbed hold of the rope hemming him in and gazed out into the crowd where they had formed a small clearing around the commotion. His steely gaze landed on the Turk standing over the fallen bouncer. He grinned widely as he called out to him, “Looks like I’ve finally got an interesting challenge.”

Alvis looked over the crowd and met the man’s eyes. “You’re King?” he asked.

The man thumped his sweaty chest and chuckled. “That’s right,” he said. “I’m King. The strongest person in this club is called that, and I’ve been called that for a very long time now. Who are you?”

The Turk put a hand on his hip and smiled. Tilting his head in a relaxed manner, he looked up at King and said, “I can’t tell you that.”

King leaned against the edge of the ring and glared down the Turk. “What do you want?” he asked, his good humor fading.

Alvis turned and looked around at all the people gathered in the stuffy room and replied, “All the fighters in this club. You’re all going to become SOLDIER candidates.”

King snorted. “And if I refuse?”

The Turk turned back to the defiant man and said evenly, “Then I’ll take you all by force.”

* * *

Reno leaned back against the rusted railing, watching Rude pace the deck. The large vessel they were on rocked gently on the wavelets where it was docked at the harbor in Costa Del Sol. They were awaiting the last of their cargo to arrive. Reno looked up at the sun, which had just begun its descent from its highest point in the sky.

“I guess we’re finished here,” he said to Rude. “We’ve sure rounded up a lot of people.”

Rude nodded. “We’re just waiting on the rookie.”

“He’s at Club Duel,” Reno reported.

Rude smiled a rare smile. “He’s doing pretty well for a rookie.”

“Yeah,” Reno agreed. “There are some pretty promising SOLDIER candidates over there.”

“…On the other hand, there’s a pretty big risk involved,” Rude added.

Reno nodded with a grim smile. “Uh huh. They’re a rough bunch of goons.”

“It’s our job. If he can’t handle that, then he’s not fit to be a Turk,” Rude explained coldly.

“Yeah.” Reno pushed off from the railing and stretched his arms over his head. “Just a day in the life of your average Turk.”

Rude looked at the door leading down into the hull of the ship. “How are the SOLDIER candidates?” he asked his partner.

“They’ve finally settled down – for now,” reported Reno, going to stand by Rude. “Who knows when they’ll try something again, though. Let’s leave as soon as we can, eh?”

Rude nodded. “We’ll go as soon as the rookie comes back.”

* * *

The air below deck was stifling, heated by the numerous bodies of crowded prisoners. A tall electrified fence vibrated around the perimeter of their holding pen. The men inside were uneasy. In the back of the cage, a man much larger and stronger than the others sat by himself, wrapped in a heavy robe and wearing a bandage on his head.

One of the other prisoners leaned over and whispered in his neighbor’s ear, “That guy’s freaking huge… There’s something in his eyes that I don’t like!”

His listener put a finger to his lips and motioned downward with his other hand, a hint of panic gleaming in his eyes. “Shh! He’ll hear you,” he cautioned

A third man overheard them nearby. “Don’t look at him, then, if you want him to leave you alone,” he suggested stoically. He didn’t seem too bothered by the other man, so long as he kept to himself.

So all of the men kept their distance from the intimidating man imprisoned with them.

* * *

[Club Duel]

The Turk and the man called King stared at each other over the crowd. One of the guards came in from the hallway when the throng became uncharacteristically silent. Overhearing the conversation between King and the Turk, he stepped up and took the Turk by the arm.

“Take all of us away? Don’t kid yourself,” he laughed at him. “You think we’re just going to let you do whatever you want?”

The Turk gave the bouncer a stern look and jerked his arm free. The other man didn’t hesitate. Immediately he lunged at the intruding Turk, arms open wide for a full tackle. Alert and agile, Alvis sidestepped the charging man and brought a knee up hard into his attacker’s stomach. When the man was doubled over, he drove his elbow down onto the back of the man’s neck, and the bouncer collapsed onto the dirt floor of the club with a heavy moan. Alvis took a step back from his downed opponent, slightly surprised that the man would openly come at him like that. Club Duel was certainly a place without rules.

From the ring, King let out a deep bellowing laugh, thoroughly enjoying the violent turn of events. “You got it?” he shouted to the Turk. “The rules here are simple. The strongest person in the club decides all the rules. In other words, I’m the rules in this place!”

The Turk brushed the dirt off his sleeve from where the bouncer had grabbed him and took a step towards the ring. The crowd cleared a path for him.

“That suits me just fine,” he told King cockily. “Then fight me. Right now. I’m going to become the new King.”

Murmuring spread quickly throughout the crowd, their words filled with speculation and bets.

“You, fight King? Don’t you know anything about this place?”

King and the Turk ignored the small talk around the club. King held out a hand and beckoned the Turk to get into the ring with him. Alvis passed down the aisle of people, eyes fixed on his awaiting opponent. Just how strong was he? He would find out soon enough. At the edge of the ring, he took hold of the ropes and ducked between the top two with an easy grace.

As he stepped into the ring, King flashed a cocky smile and spread his arms wide in invitation. “All right. Let’s get going. Entertain me.”

The Turk met his arrogance head on and warned him, “Prepare to be dethroned, King!”

Alvis shrugged his shoulders, limbering up his arms as he bounced around lightly on the balls of his feet. King settled his fists into a fighting position by his head and inched his way towards the spry Turk. The two danced around the arena, King throwing a punch now and then, and the Turk dodging each one.

The fight quickly heated up, and the rookie ducked low as King slung a roundhouse punch aimed at his face. With a straight leg, the Turk swept King’s feet out from under him, dropping him on his back in the center of the ring with a heavy thud. The man quickly rolled away from the crouching Turk, and both men vaulted back up to their feet and began circling the ring again.

King snarled menacingly at the agile Turk. Making another lunge, he rushed at his opponent. Alvis took a step back and turned into a spinning side kick, placing his booted foot stiffly into the other man’s bare chest. King’s body came to a halt with his arm in mid-swing. The force of the blow thrust him backwards across the ring and left him wheezing heavily on the ground. The strike to his solar plexus had left all his limbs numb and his head swimming. A final roundhouse kick to his jaw laid him out flat on the mat.

Lowering his foot back to the ground, the Turk strode slowly over to his defeated opponent. Looking down at him, he said without a smile, “This is the end.” He then knelt down to help the defeated King to his feet.

“Wh…at” the man said, his speech slightly slurred. “…How could I lose…?”

Alvis pulled him roughly up to his feet and took him firmly by the arm as he swayed like a drunkard.

Outside the ring, the spectators were silent until one suddenly shouted out, “King lost!”

Another pointed at the Turk and declared, “He’s the new King!”

Many more cheers erupted around Club Duel. The Turk pushed King across the floor to the edge of the ring and waved for silence as he shouted over the din. “Are there any other challengers?” he dared, staring out into the crowd.

The Turk glanced around the room as the spectators fell silent. He made eye contact with some of the tougher looking thugs and bouncers dispersed among the regular folk, but none of them would match his gaze. The Turk lifted his chin.

“No one?” he asked. Still no reply. He stepped out of the ring and dragged King along with him. “Then let’s go,” he ordered everyone else and herded the throng towards the exit.

* * *

The Turk stood next to the open gate of the holding cell in the hull of the ship. A steady stream of prisoners flowed willingly into the electrified containment area. The last man in the procession, the former King of Club Duel stopped at the entrance and looked over at Alvis with an expression of disdain.

“Please get inside,” the Turk said with a tired sigh. “We’re keeping all the candidates in here. I can’t think of anyone more worthy of being in here than you.”

King’s eyes narrowed but he said nothing to the Turk. Turning away, he stalked into the pen with the others taken from the club. The gate slammed shut behind him and became charged with several volts of electricity, filling the hull with a dull thrum. Alvis stepped away from the enclosure and peered at the SOLDIER candidates through the glowing bars.

“Stay in there and keep quiet,” he requested. “As long as you behave, we won’t have any problems.”

“Let us out of here!” one of the prisoners yelled out defiantly. “What’s the big idea, keeping us in this electric cage!”

“We’ll be arriving at Midgar soon. Once you’re there, you’ll go through the mako transfusion process and you’ll become members of SOLDIER, too,” Alvis explained, then left the prisoner containment area before they could ask him any more questions.

He climbed the stairs to the upper deck and found Reno and Rude waiting for him at the bow. Reno held up a hand in greeting, and the rookie returned the gesture. Rude stood with his hands clasped behind his back, as stoic as usual.

“Good job, rookie,” Rude praised him. “You’ve brought more candidates than we expected.”

“Not as many as we have, but you know. There’s that. One day you’ll catch up to us,” Reno added lightheartedly.

“Yes, sir. One day,” the rookie said enthusiastically.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Reno assured him. “So. I’m going to take a nap until we get to Midgar. It’s really comfy down there, so don’t wake me.”

Rude nodded to him. “We’ll take care of it.”

Reno bid them farewell and left their company, giving the rookie a slap on the back as he passed by and headed for the cabins below deck.

Rude turned to the rookie with a serious smile. “How did it go?” he asked.

Alvis sighed and walked over to join him at the railing. “I didn’t think we’d have to force them,” he said, almost sounding regretful of his actions as he looked out at the gently rolling water. “I always thought entry into SOLDIER was voluntary.”

Rude nodded solemnly and told him, “We have to resort to using force sometimes. It’s not something we can do anything about.”

“Why is that?” asked Alvis as he stared out to sea. “You and Reno have scouted for SOLDIER before, right? Now that I think about it, the SOLDIER ranks haven’t increased all that much in the last while, have they?”

“You have to be strong to enter SOLDIER,” explained the seasoned Turk. “Only a handful of those people we’ve gathered will make it into the ranks.”

The rookie pulled back from the railing and spun around to look up the other Turk standing next to him. “Really?” he asked. “I didn’t know that. There’s still a lot I have to learn…”

Rude held a finger up to his lips in a hushing motion. “It’s a company secret,” he explained to him. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Quit it! Aaaahhhhgg-!”

Rude and Alvis both spun around to look at the door leading down to the containment area below deck.

“What was that?!” Alvis exclaimed and took off running for the SOLDIER cage.

“Hey! Wait!” Rude called after the headstrong rookie.

Alvis stopped in mid stride and looked back at Rude. “What?”

“Be careful,” Rude warned him, seemingly deciding to let the rookie handle it solo. “There’s one guy down there that you should especially watch out for.”

“Yes, sir!” shouted the rookie as he pulled open the door and took the stairs two at a time going down into the cargo hull.

Racing up to the holding area, he glanced between the electrified bars. When he looked inside, he was appalled by what he saw. All of the prisoners except for one were lying unconscious about the cage, some even piled up on top of each other. Many were groaning painfully, but most were unconscious or close to it. At the back of the enclosure, one man was still on his feet. His large frame was wrapped in a heavy wool cloak, and he held another man by the throat, dangling him above the floor.

“Stop!” Alvis ordered.

He ran to the gate, shut down the electricity to that section, and rushed into the pen, allowing the gate to swing shut behind him. The cloaked man stood much taller than he had appeared from outside the cage; and the man that he was holding was the former king from the club. Ignoring the Turk’s shouts, the cloaked man smashed a large fist into the side of his victim’s head and let him drop to the ground.

The Turk stood in stunned silence, staring at the easily defeated King.Then the man turned and looked straight at the Turk. In three long strides, he was upon him and rammed a heavy fist into the Turk’s face before he had time to react. Alvis flew across the cell and skidded to a halt on the floor only inches away from the electrocuting fence enclosing them.

“Fight me!” the cloaked man bellowed as the Turk sat up, wiping away the blood pouring from his nose and over his lips.

What’s his problem? Alvis wondered as he climbed carefully to his feet and glared back at the man.

“The only time I truly live is in the heat of battle,” the man said, sucking in short, rapid breaths through his clenched teeth.

Watching him closely, Alvis held up his hands, palms facing the raging prisoner. “Settle down!” he ordered in a calm, clear voice.

The man erupted in a deep hearty laugh. “You presume to give me orders? The only people worthy of giving me direction are those who prove their strength to me in battle. The only way of proving your strength is by fighting me.”

Alvis continued to glare back at the seemingly mad man, but could see no other options. “… Fine. We’ll fight,” he agreed hesitantly.

The man grinned. “I am called Azul,” he said proudly, stabbing his chest with his thumb. “We will fight to the death.”

Alvis wasn’t sure he was ready to agree to that, but he nodded anyway as he reached into his jacket and withdrew his electrified rod. Then he rushed at Azul, and the two collided. Azul, fighting with his bare hands, made contact with the EMR, but seemed unaffected by the electrical voltage emanating from the rod. The force of Azul’s heavy hit sent the Turk reeling backwards before falling on his back. He jumped back to his feet, finding himself once again only inches away from the electric barrier behind him.

Azul strode towards him, eyes flashing menacingly. “I will journey the length and breadth of this planet fighting, looking for one worthy of me,” he declared. “That is why I have been put on this earth.” He came to a stop a few feet away from the dazed Turk, fist raised to strike.

“Rookie, move!”

The gate clanged loudly behind him as Rude dashed into the holding area. Pushing past the Alvis, the more experienced Turk rushed at Azul with a ready fist. He caught the man squarely between the eyes and sent him flying back into the sides of the cage. A powerful shock jolted through his body, and he slumped to the ground.

“Ugh… You again…” the man moaned angrily, glaring up at the Turk.

“Settle down,” ordered Rude, pointing down at Azul.

Rude, thought the rookie to himself. That was impressive.

Rude turned to his young partner and jerked his head towards the door. “Let’s go, rookie.”

“R-Roger,” Alvis stammered as he followed Rude out of the cage, casting a final glance back at Azul.

Rude slammed the gate shut behind them and reactivated the power supply to it. On the far side of the enclosure, Alvis could see Azul still glaring at them.

“Insolent…” he heard the defeated man muttering. “I have to become stronger…”

Turning away, Alvis followed his superior up the flight of metal stairs, and they emerged on the deck of the vessel. Rude went to stand at the bow. Alvis followed and stopped a short distance behind him where he stood staring at Rude’s broad back. Neither one said a word for several minutes.

“Are you frustrated?” Rude finally asked. “You know we were ordered to gather these candidates.”

The rookie kept his eyes locked on the place between Rude‘s shoulder blades. Of course, he knew what their orders were, but that didn’t make it any easier. The men locked up downstairs were prisoners, not candidates. And that one had attacked him. But whatever thoughts he had on the matter, he felt it better to hold his peace. “…Yes, sir,” he answered. It came out a bit more hesitant than he had intended, and the tone was not missed by Rude.

“We’re Turks,” Rude told him firmly. “We aren’t here to fight.”

“But there are times we do have to fight, sir,” the rookie argued. “I was justified in doing it this time.”

Rude looked back over his shoulder at the rookie but didn’t say anything. A beeping from his phone spared him from further conversation. He unclipped the device from his belt and turned away as he held it to his ear.

“Rude,” Tseng greeted him. “We’ve just received reports that AVALANCHE is in the area. Don’t let them get near the ship.”

“Understood,” Rude answered curtly. Lowering his phone, he turned back to the rookie with a grim frown. “AVALANCHE is here,” he relayed.

Alvis matched his grim expression as his hand hovered involuntarily over his sore ribs. His last encounter in Junon was not yet forgotten, nor would it be anytime soon. He did not relish the thought of dealing with them again so soon. How was it that they seemed to be everywhere they were? They must be numerous.

“I’m going to stay on the ship,” Rude instructed. “You go to the docks and make sure AVALANCHE doesn’t come on board.”

“Yes, sir.” The rookie nodded and headed for the loading ramp.

Chapter 15: 4: Proof of a Scar Filled Existence, part 2

Shears stood quietly, surveying the harbor. Halfway down the dock was the Shinra cargo ship. His eyes narrowed in disgust. Turning away from the sight, he looked to his small gathering of men at the head of the pier behind him and lifted a hand to his mouth. With a shrill whistle, he called for their attention.

“Our target is the Shinra vessel,” he instructed sternly. “First, we’re going to get inside. Then we’re going to release the SOLDIER candidates they’ve got in there. The goal of this mission is to prevent them from getting those men to Midgar. Board the ship by any means necessary. Split up and try to avoid getting into a fight with the Turks if at all possible. Move out!”

The men in his company all raised their hands in salute and responded with a raucous cheer. Turning away from them, Shears pointed them down the dock towards the designated ship.

 

Alvis stood alert at the head of the ramp, eyes trained up the pier towards the shore as a throng of enemy troops materialized from among the stacked cargo crates at the head of the docks. Behind the advancing contingent, he spotted Shears. The sight of him made Alvis cringe a little inside. He could still feel the bruises from his last encounter with him on the streets of Sector 8. But he set those thoughts aside. Right now, his more immediate concern were the enemy soldiers approaching the boarding ramp below him.

Withdrawing a fully loaded handgun from the holster under his jacket, Alvis took aim at the advancing enemy from his perch halfway down the ramp. With extreme precision and accuracy, the Turk unloaded all six of his shots in rapid succession, each bullet burying itself into one of the AVALANCHE troops.

Shears looked on with a snarl twisting his face as his men continued to stream towards the ship. Pushing off the crate, he stepped in among them, making his way forward. Halfway down the dock, he took one of his men by the arm, pulling him close.

“Initiate Stage 2,” he ordered. “Find the Turks and kill them.”

 

Lowering the empty weapon to his side, Alvis surveyed his accomplishment spread out among the bodies on the pier. Back up the docks, he caught a flurry of motion from the corner of his eye. Jerking his attention back that way, he sighted another contingent of troops running down the pier towards the ship. Withdrawing his battle rod, he jogged down the ramp to meet the enemy on the dock.

The squad split into two groups as they drew nearer and slowly circled the Turk at the base of the boarding ramp. Alvis found himself turning in a tight circle, surveying his predicament. Behind him, heavy footsteps echoed from the deck of the ship and down the ramp. Daring a quick glance over his shoulder he welcomed Rude's unexpected appearance.

“Rude!” he shouted with some degree of relief.

The other Turk didn’t waste any time with greetings but reported, “There were intruders on board.” He didn't sound happy.

Frowning, Alvis turned back to the inclosing circle of enemy troops surrounding him. “No one else is going to get in,” he promised his superior.

“Obviously,” said Rude confidently as he threw a single punch and knocked out one of the troopers surrounding the rookie. “Let’s get to work.”

Alvis and Rude struck out on opposite sides of the circle. Rude used only his fists, and the rookie fought with his EMR. The two Turks worked their way skillfully through the small group of AVALANCHE troops. When the last man fell to the dock at the rookie’s feet, he glanced over at Rude.

“Are you all right?” the older Turk asked him over his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he reported. “How about you?”

“Hmph,” Rude grunted, not sounding very amused by his show of concern. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll hold up. Don’t get complacent.”

“Yes, sir,” the rookie nodded.

Two more AVALANCHE operatives rounded the corner and headed up the pier. One stopped when he saw their fallen comrades near the boat. Quickly overcoming their shock, they once again started their advance towards the Turks. Spotting them first, Alvis ran past Rude and took up a fighting stance as the two men rushed towards them. Two loud shots rang loudly in his ear. He jumped at the noise as the two men fell to the dock in mid-stride. When he looked over, Rude was lowering a handgun to his side. The rookie stood up straight and cast another look up the dock.

“That’s it…” he told Rude. …But something’s not right, he thought inwardly. Glancing around the pier, he added out loud, “Shears was here a moment ago, but I don’t see him anywhere.”

Rude looked around the area too, still on alert. “Are you sure?” he asked.

The rookie nodded adamantly, casting one last look around. “Yes. I’m sure of it,” he insisted.

A wrinkle of concern furrowed the older Turk’s brow. Turning suddenly, he started up the loading ramp. “Let’s get back on board,” he called back to the rookie. “Hurry!”

*

Shears darted across the deck of the ship on silent feet. When he reached his destination, he jerked open the door leading down into the ship’s hull. He mentally scolded the Turks for leaving a doorway of such importance unlocked. Thankful that he would not have to spend time disarming the lock, he sprinted down the metal stairway, his footfalls barely making a sound in the hollow chamber. At the base of the stairs stood the electrified cage filled with Shinra's hostages. Some of the men inside looked his way, but most sat still with their heads down, beaten and without hope.

Stepping up to the gate, he cleared his voice and then addressed the men loudly, “I’m Shears, of AVALANCHE. I’m here to rescue you. If you guys want to stay normal men, get out of here as fast as you can.”

One of the men looked up at him and said sarcastically, “Thanks a lot. Now open the door.”

Shears began to fiddle with the control box located next to the gate in an attempt to shut down the electrical power. There was a keypad requiring a passcode that he didn’t have. He’d have to improvise. Ripping open the side of the panel, he began tracing his fingers over the tangle of wires inside. “If you guys stay here, you’ll be forced to undergo mako transfusions,” he explained as he worked. “Those transfusions will do some pretty scary things to you. We’ll make sure the Shinra Company pays for pulling this kind of shit.” He pulled on a wire and it came loose with a spark. He hissed as he jerked back his hand. He stuck his fingertip in his mouth, nursing the slight shock, then immediately went to work on another wire. “You all came close to losing your humanity today,” he warned them. “If you want to join me and pay it back to Shinra, come with me. I’ll be waiting for you in town. Let’s fight together!”

The power to the gate shut off with a palpable whump as the electrical field quickly faded. Stepping over to the front of the cage, Shears kicked it open with enough force to bounce it off the wall inside. A loud metallic clang echoed around the hollow chamber as he stepped aside, showing the prisoners the way to freedom. With the way cleared, the men finally caught hold of the hope Shears had been trying to give them. In a great mass, they all rose up and stampeded through the opening.

Holding the gate open, Shears watched with a grin of satisfaction as the Turk’s plans were foiled. Looking over the heads bobbing towards the stairway, he caught sight of the rookie Turk at the top of the stairs. Alvis dove towards the throng as they rushed at him. Grabbing hold of the railing, he fought to remain upright as the men jostled him aside, taking little to no heed of his demands that they stop. With a growl, he reached inside his jacket for his rod, but was shoved hard, sending him crashing into the rail once more and almost flipping him over it. The metal bar pressed harshly against the line of stitches crossing his ribs, causing him to grunt painfully as he wrapped one arm around his side and used the other to cling to the rail for support as more men pushed against him.

Keeping a tight hold on the rail, he turned back up the stairs and shouted, “Rude, sir! The candidates!”

The senior Turk soon appeared in the doorway at the top of the steps, backlit by the daylight streaming in from outside. Grabbing one of the men pushing past him, he gave him a shove and sent him tumbling back into two other men behind him. Rude started down the steps after him, knocking some of the prisoners back down as he fought against the streaming tide of people. He soon appeared next to the rookie and surveyed the damage.

“Damn…” he cursed.

“They’re getting away!” Alvis exclaimed the obvious. Glancing at the passing faces, he sought out Azul, but couldn’t spot the large man among the crowd.

“Back already?”

The Turks spun around at the sound of the voice behind them. A dangerous looking man stood leaning against the now-empty holding cage, his thick arms crossed over his broad chest and a victorious smile on his lips.

“Shears!” the rookie shouted, shocked to find the man in the hull of their own ship of all places.

“The Turks, huh,” said Shears, straightening up and taking a few strong steps towards them. “Good timing.”

Rude glared at the man from behind his dark lenses. “You’re Shears…” he mused.

Shears chuckled and held his hands out, palms up, “You’ve saved me the trouble of finding you. You’re both going to die right here.”

Rude took a step towards the confident rebel, but the rookie threw his arm out in front of him. “Rude, sir! This guy’s tough,” he warned.

Rude said nothing. Alvis looked back and forth between the two men before heading for the stairs. A strong hand clamped down hard on his bicep and jerked him back. He soon found himself staring into his own reflection in the other Turk's dark lenses.

“Wait!” Rude scolded. “Where are you going?”

Alvis jerked free of his iron grip and told him, “I’m going to get Reno!”

Rude's lips curled up in a smirk as he grunted and turned back to face Shears. “Forget about Reno,” he told Alvis “Let him sleep.”

The rookie glanced between him and Shears and shook his head. “You can’t take him by yourself,” he warned him.

Rude ignored the insinuation and took a step towards the rebel. “I’ll take care of him,” he said firmly. “You go and find the escaped candidates. Those are your orders.”

Alvis stared back at him in silence. Rude appeared adamant. With no other choice, he finally accepted his instructions. “Understood!”He turned and ran for the stairs, but stopped at the doorway to look back down at Rude. “I’ll be back as soon as I can!” he shouted.

Rude said nothing in response as he studied Shears. The man stood casually and confidently in front of him. His arms looked strong, and his eyes exuded assurance.

Shears smirked. “Not very smart,” he said, tapping his temple. “Trying to face me alone. What can you do by yourself?”

Rude grunted and adjusted his shades. “I heard about you from Reno.”

Shears bent back in exaggerated laughter. “Ha ha ha! You must mean that redhead. He was all talk, and he couldn’t even live up to that. If this is how strong you Turks are, all we’re going to have to worry about is SOLDIER.”

“Shut up,” Rude warned. Behind his shades, his eyes narrowed into a lethal glare.

“What’s the matter?” the other man jeered. “You’re thinking you want to avenge your little redheaded friend?”

“I told you to shut up!” the Turk threatened again.

“Rude: the most powerful of the Turks,” Shears said sarcastically as he paced around the room, hands on his hips.

Rude said nothing as he watched the man pace his course.

“Sorry,” Shears finally said, stopping to look squarely at the Turk, “but that power is nothing in front of me.”

Rude smirked confidently as he raised his fists and bent his knees into a fighting stance. “We won’t know that until we try and see,” he challenged.

“Just as I thought. You’re all the same,” Shears taunted him. “The redhead said the exact same thing. The results this time are going to be no different.”

Rude rushed at Shears then, fists ready for a fight. The other man stood his ground until the Turk was nearly upon him. Feinting quickly to the left, the rebel threw a mean hook punch of his own, catching Rude squarely on the jaw. Rude stumbled sideways under the impact, catching himself on the railings of the shutdown holding pen.

With a moan, Rude shook the stars from his vision, stunned by the fact that the man had landed the first punch and that it had been so powerful. He couldn’t recall ever taking a hit like that before.

Shears marched over to him, shaking his head, “Playtime’s over. It’s time for you to die.”

He curled his hand into a tight fist and hammered it down into the back of Rude’s bald head. The Turk moaned once more and slumped to the floor. His glasses fell off his nose and landed a few inches away. Shears saw his eyes roll back and his eyelids slide shut. When the Turk didn’t move, Shears shook his head again and walked away from his felled opponent.

“Reno, Rude, they’re both this weak, huh,” he mumbled out loud to himself, both surprised and disappointed in how quickly the fight had been ended. “I didn’t even have to come here. Well, Elfe will be happy with today’s results.”

He climbed the stairs and emerged on the ship’s deck. He didn’t see the other Turk lurking about. With one last glance at the ravaged Shinra vessel, he headed down the ramp and disappeared up the dock.

Chapter 16: 4: Proof of a Scar Filled Existence, part 3

“It’s friggin' noisy down here,” Reno complained loudly as he shuffled into the holding area, arms stretched wide in an exaggerated yawn. “I can’t sleep with all this banging going on…”

His speech dropped off as he entered the cargo hold and saw Rude lying unmoving on the floor. For a moment, he could only stand in the doorway staring at his comrade. Without glancing around the rest of the room, he rushed over towards Rude's motionless form. Leaning over with hands on his knees, he stared down at him.

“Yo!” he shouted. “What happened?”

At the sound of Reno's harsh, excited voice, Rude’s eyes flickered open and he groaned – not one of pain but of irritation. Still on his back, he squinted his eyes against the bright lights as he stared up at Reno leaning over him. Backlit by the ceiling lights, his partner’s hair formed a red halo around his face, giving him the appearance of a lion, complete with a mischievous cat-like grin.

Indeed, Reno was looking at him with an odd gleam in his eye. Rude reached a hand to his face and realized his glasses were missing. With a disgusted sigh, he reached over for his fallen shades.

“Yo!” Reno shouted again. “I asked you what the hell happened?”

Sitting up, Rude returned the glasses to his face and mumbled, “…Nothing.”

Straightening up, Reno crossed his arms and looked down at the top of Rude’s bald head, a view he didn’t get to see very often. “It doesn’t look like nothing,” he argued, eyeing the growing lump on the back of his friend’s head.

“That’s not important,” Rude snapped, rubbing his temple with a gloved hand. “Sorry,” he apologized. “…AVALANCHE released the captives.”

It was then that Reno noticed the open gate and empty holding cell. “I see,” he growled. “They’ve started to move again, huh?”

With an affirmative hum, Rude got to his feet. But he moved too quickly, and the whole room seemed to spin around him. Closing his eyes behind his shades, he reached out to hold on to the cage and waited for his head to settle. “Go after the candidates…” he instructed, pointing up the stairs. “I’ll… catch up with you…”

Reno resisted the urge to reach a steadying hand towards his partner, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it. Instead, he studied him for a brief moment before turning towards the stairs. “I got it…” he assured him. Then, stopping on the first step with one hand on the railing, he looked back at Rude once more. He studied him with a raised eyebrow, trying to read his friend's real condition. He'd never seen him laid out like that before. “Hey, Rude,” he asked. “Who did this to you?”

Rude adjusted his glasses and pulled his gloves tighter on his fists, but refused to say anything to Reno’s query.

The corner of Reno’s mouth turned up in a crooked smirk as he watched Rude. Then he snorted. “Stubborn,” he taunted as he headed up the stairs. “Well, back to work, back to work.”

* * *

Alvis ran through the streets of Costa Del Sol, searching the alleys and side streets for the escaped SOLDIER candidates.

“Where… did everybody go…?” he muttered between panting breaths, shocked that not one prisoner was in sight.

The streets were empty, and the prisoners appeared to be long gone. Muttering curses under his breath, the Turk headed back to the main square. If the men were in hiding, he’d have to start searching building by building. Up the street a short distance was a popular bar. It was as good a place as any to begin. Squaring his shoulders and checking his weapon, he headed inside. The establishment was dimly lit and completely empty except for the barkeep washing shot glasses behind the counter. The Turk walked over to him and placed both hands down on the bar.

“Did you see any runaways come in here?” he asked.

The barkeep shook his head. “Nobody like that’s come through here,” he reported quickly. Too quickly.

A scraping noise behind the Turk jilted the silence – the sound of a chair that had been bumped and scooted across the floor. Alvis spun around. A man stood five paces to his left. He immediately recognized him as one of the bouncers he had taken from Club Duel. The man glanced around for an escape route, and, finding none, put up his fists to fight. He stepped closer and swung wide at the Turk, who dodged the blow easily and drove a knee hard into the man’s stomach. The convict doubled over and knelt on the floor.

Grabbing him by the collar, Alvis hauled him to his feet. “Where are the others?!” he demanded.

“I don’t know,” the man said gasping. “I came here by myself.”

The Turk suddenly let go of him, and he fell back to the floor.

“That’s too bad,” said Alvis, turning towards the exit. “Get back to the ship,” he told the man sternly. The tone of his voice was dripping with menace, suggesting that compliance was highly recommended. The man nodded hastily in agreement. Satisfied that he had been scared into submission, the Turk left the bar to search for the other fugitives.

Continuing up the street, he passed a narrow alley. Movement caught his eye. Two men were looking at him from the far end of the alley. Their eyes grew wide under the Turk's attention, and they began jockeying each other in their attempt to run. Alvis shot after them. Rounding a corner, he found the two men stuck at a dead end. They turned back to look at him in surprise.

“I didn’t come all this way just so I could get caught again!” one exclaimed, sounding angry and frustrated. He then lunged at the Turk, but was stopped by a swat of the electric rod before he could do him any harm. The second man backed away, arms upraised in surrender. Looking back down at the man at his feet, Alvis grabbed him by the collar and bent over him.

“Where are the others?!” he demanded.

Grimacing in pain, the fugitive said in a raspy voice, “Like I’d tell you even if I knew…”

With a snarl, the Turk knocked him over the head one more time and let him fall unconscious to the ground. He then glared over at the other man who knelt submissively and laid face down on the ground, arms and legs spread. The Turk nodded his approval.

“When your friend wakes up, get back to the ship,” he instructed, his voice filled with unspoken threats.

The man nodded emphatically as he crawled over to his companion and began trying to rouse him. Alvis shot him one more threatening look and left the alley. The bar he had checked out earlier was up the street to his right. Beyond it, heading towards him, was one of his fugitives. Ducking back into the alley, the Turk peered around the corner and watched as he ran up the stairs and entered the bar. Smiling to himself, Alvis activated his rod and darted out of his hiding place to follow the man inside. As he burst through the doors, the man spun around and the two made eye contact.

The man's initial shock quickly subsided as he eyed the Turk up and down. “I’ve been found, huh…” he said lazily, much more calm than the others had been when the Turk confronted them.

Alvis pointed his baton at the man and sternly ordered, “Get back to the ship.”

The convict lifted his fist and refused the command, “There’s no way I’m gonna!”

The Turk rushed at him first and beat him several times with the baton, forcing the man to the ground.

“Where are the other candidates?” he demanded.

The prisoner spat blood from his mouth and glared up at him defiantly. “How would I know?” he snarled.

“Is that right…” said the Turk not amused. “Then… I don’t have a choice. I’ll ask you again.”

Alvis pulled the man up and drove a knee into his stomach and a fist into his jaw. When he released him, the man fell to the floor again. Pushing himself up to his knees, the man sat in front of the angry Turk and began to plead.

“Stop…” he gasped. “I’ll tell you…”

“Where are the others?” the Turk asked again, slowly and sternly.

The man answered between heavy, painful breaths. “They were… all getting on the AVALANCHE ship… They should be at the dock.”

“Okay,” said the Turk as he left the man groveling on the floor of the pub and headed out the doors. “Sorry about that…” he called back over his shoulder.

Alvis exited the bar and sprinted down the street back towards the docks where the Shinra cargo ship was stationed, as well as the mentioned AVALANCHE vessel. He saw three men ahead of him, running in the same direction. He recognized one of them as King. It didn’t take long for one of the men to take notice of the Turk running after them.

“The Turks are coming!” he exclaimed.

King looked back over his shoulder. Spotting Alvis, he scowled. “Shit,” he cursed. “Where the hell is the AVALANCHE ship?!”

The rookie Turk closed the distance between them and shouted at the escaped prisoners, “Get back on the ship.”

One of the men looked back and recognized the rookie. Turning to the others he told them, “I saw him… he was going after one of the others.”

King slowed to a jog and turned to face him. “If we take him all at once, we can win!” he encouraged the others.

Seeming to forget his easy defeat at Club Duel, King led the others into battle against the Turk. Using his rod, Alvis made a hard swing at King, placing the metal tip of the baton under the man’s chin. The force of the blow launched King off his feet. Flipping in the air, he landed face down on the dock. The other two men faltered at the sight of their flying leader, but couldn’t form an effective retreat. Making use of the taser end of his weapon, the Turk efficiently rendered the other two unconscious as well.

As he was finishing up on the dock, his radio buzzed. He answered the call.

“Rookie. Come back to the ship.”

“Rude!” he exclaimed. “You’re all right.”

“Yeah,” said Rude with little emotion. “Hurry.”

“Okay.”

Alvis put away his radio and reached down for his prisoners. He gave each of them a slap on the cheek to rouse them, then pulled them callously to their feet. The men swayed uneasily but went without a fuss as he herded them up the dock back towards the cargo ship.

Rude stood at the foot of the boarding ramp, studying the rookie as they drew near. Stepping aside, he ordered the prisoners up the ramp with a lift of his chin, and the men readily complied, shuffling up one after the other without argument.

“There you are…” Rude greeted Alvis once the men were on their way. “We’ve gotten most of the candidates back.”

“What about Reno?” asked Alvis, sounding slightly out of breath.

“He’s still out there looking for the last of the runaways,” Rude said as his cell began to ring. The rookie waited while he took the call.

“We’ve got an update on AVALANCHE’s movements,” Tseng reported to Rude. “Their ship is moored at the beach. Shears is there, too.”

“Understood,” Rude said quickly and disconnected.

“Was that Tseng?” the rookie asked him eagerly.

Rude nodded affirmatively as he returned the phone to the clip on his belt. “It looks like the AVALANCHE ship is at the beach.”

“I think the other candidates might be on that ship,” Alvis reported, recalling what he had gathered from the man in the pub. “Let’s head to the beach!”

The rookie turned to lead the way, but was stopped by a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, rookie,” said Rude as he laid the edge of his hand hard across the back of the other Turk’s neck.

Alvis felt his whole body go numb in that instant. All of his limbs relaxed uncontrollably, and he fell to the dock. A jolt of panic sought to overtake him, but he was unable to react to it in anyway, aside from the sudden increase of his heart rate. Wide-eyed, he looked for Rude in his peripheral vision. “Rude… Why…?” he mumbled.

The other Turk stepped passed him and looked up the dock. “There’s no permanent damage,” he assured him calmly. “Stay here.”

“Rude,” Alvis begged again.

“We… aren’t here to fight. But I owe Shears something,” Rude tried to explain. “It’s one of those things that has to be done… I can’t just leave it alone.”

Alvis watched from his new vantage point lying on the dock as Rude ran up the pier and disappeared from sight into town. He listened and felt the echo of his footsteps fade into silence as he turned the man’s words over and over again in his head, trying to decipher them. But it was no use. Giving in to the warm numbness enveloping his body, he let his head thump to the rough wooden boards of the dock as his eyelids slid shut.

Chapter 17: 4: Proof of a Scar Filled Existence, part 4

Leaving the rookie behind on the pier, Rude ran across the docks and into Costa Del Sol. He knew the layout of the Shinra-owned resort well and headed for the bar where the rookie had caught one of their escaped prisoners. Next to it were the stairs leading down to the beach. After a minute of running, he found the way down and took the steps two at a time. At the bottom of the steps, Reno leaned lazily against the stone wall of the pub’s foundation. His arms were crossed behind his head, and he looked like he'd been dozing in the narrow shaft of sunlight streaming down between the buildings on either side of the stairway. Rude slowed his pace to a walk as he approached his comrade.

Reno eyed him curiously and asked, “Are you going alone?”

Rude walked past him without saying word.

Reno smiled at his stubbornness. “The beach, right?”

Rude stopped but still gave no response.

“What a surprise,” Reno said, placing a hand on his chest and feigning to be shocked. “I was just on my way to the beach myself.”

Rude looked back at his partner and allowed a diminutive smile to show on his face. “…Do whatever you want,” he told his comrade and took off running once more with Reno right behind him.

* * *

The rookie sat up slowly and placed a hand to his spinning head. How long had he been out? The dock tilted beneath him, and he could not find the strength nor the balance to stand. Dropping back on his seat, he held his head for a moment and closed his eyes.

Wow. My body’s still numb, he thought as he tested each of his limbs for injury.

Moving slowly and stiffly, he managed to pull his legs under himself and gradually began to stand. The movement was painstaking and made him feel like a ninety-year-old man, but he eventually got the job done. Despite the lag in his faculties, the well-trained agent detected another presence on the dock with him. Thinking that Reno and Rude must be back, he turned around to face them, ready with a wellspring of strong words he had prepared for them. But his fellow Turks were nowhere in sight.

“Azul!” he said in shock. The Turk cursed the large man’s presence and tried to devise a plan that would get him out of the situation in one piece.

Azul raised one hand calmly as he took a step towards the wavering Turk. “I picked up some rumors in the city,” he began, speaking slowly. “I have changed my mind – I want to join SOLDIER. I want to become stronger. I want to feel the heat of battle.” The Turk watched him suspiciously. Azul went on, “That is exactly what I want. I want to be born anew.”

Still eying Azul warily, the rookie stepped aside and pointed towards the company ship with his rod and a jerk of his chin. “Then get back on the ship,” he ordered.

* * *

Shears stood on the golden sands of the beach, ushering the last of the refugees towards the boat that would whisk them away from a life of servitude to Shinra. Looking back towards the town, he saw two more men coming. Latecomers. Better late than never, as he always said. He started to wave them on, telling them to hurry, but stopped just short of doing so. He squinted his eyes and raised a hand to shield them from the low angled rays of the setting sun. A rueful smile pulled at one corner of his mouth as he recognized the two Turks crossing the beach towards him.

Lowering his upraised hand, he sauntered out over the sand to meet them. He stopped at the top of a small dune and crossed his arms loosely over his chest as he watched them draw near. Reno and Rude. The fastest of the Turks and the strongest of the Turks. Both had failed to impress him thus far. But they were persistent, he 'd give them that much.

“Have you come to get your asses beaten again?” he called out when they were within speaking distance. “You people never learn.”

“Shut up, yo!” Reno ordered, jabbing the end of his EMR in the air between them.

Shears did his best to suppress a smile. The redhead looked angry. Cute, he thought. His eyes slid over to the bald one. Expressionless as usual.

“Fine,” he conceded uncrossing his arms and holding them out in a welcoming motion. “We’ll finish this, since it’s what you two want. You’ll feel the extent of my full power to your bones!”

“That so?” Reno asked with a sneer as he and Rude started slowly towards him. “It’s gonna be the other way around.”

Rude lunged in first, leading with a swift fist aimed at Shears’ face. The man shifted his weight to the right, dodging the attack as he brought his own fist up in an uppercut to Rude's stomach. Before he even made contact, Reno was moving in fast, his baton whistling through the air. Using his momentum, Shears feigned left, allowing Reno's rod to fly past his right shoulder. Stepping around him, he planted a fist in Reno's kidney before retreating a step or two. He stared down the two Turks as both men quickly recovered and turned back to face him again.

“Do you get it now?” he taunted. “Neither of you are a match for me!”

Both Turks ignored the mockery and started back at him again. This time, Reno moved first, closing the distance between them with astonishing speed. Shears moved in to meet him head-on. He swung a hard and fast punch at Reno's jaw, but never made contact. Sidestepping, Reno feinted left, pulling Shears' attention and momentum along with him. The action left Shears' backside open towards Rude. Taking full advantage of the opportunity, Rude moved in, swinging the sharp edge of his forearm like a blade to the back of Shears' neck. The blow elicited a grunt from Shears, but he didn't go down. With an angry snarl, he spun around to face the Turk, leg rising in a roundhouse kick. From the corner of his eye, he saw Reno cutting in once more, electricity arcing around the end of his attack rod. Abandoning his countermeasure, he had no choice but to duck the incoming blow. Popping back up to his feet, he found himself flanked by the two Turks. He had no choice but to keep his attention divided between the two of them.

“As you can see,” Reno drawled, lazily bumping his baton against his shoulder. “We have no intention of losing this time.”

Shears grunted his lack of amusement and fixed the redhead with a gaze of pure malice, before shifting it to the other Turk. Both men were proving to be a bigger thorn in his side than he had anticipated. Of the two, he deemed Rude the most dangerous. Best to be rid of him first. He struck out fast and hard. Rude did likewise. Before the two men collided, a shocking jolt shot across his neck and up his jaw. Shears hit the sand and tumbled a bout or two. Pushing himself hurriedly to his knees, he shook his head to rid it of the numbness threatening to overtake him. He clenched his jaw and glared up at the two Turks stalking towards him. The redhead was sneering; the baldy scowling.

“Remember this!” he growled at them. “It isn’t over!”

A gunshot cracked loudly behind him as a bullet bit into the sand between him and the Turks. Several more followed, halting Reno and Rude in their tracks. Lurching to his feet, Shears turned and retreated towards the ship as his comrades provided cover fire, driving the Turks back up the beach.

Uttering curses, Reno dove behind the stone wall at the edge of the sands as chunks of rock were chipped away above his head. He looked over at Rude, crouching similarly a few feet down from him.

“That was close,” he said with an amused chuckle.

Rude shot him a sideways glance from behind his shades. “It looks like we were able to return the favor this time…” Reno detected a hint of a smile in Rude's voice, until he continued with a grunt, “Hmph. Always doing what you want. Be more careful next time.

“Right back at you, Rude,” Reno shot back, sounding amused. “I wasn’t the only one in trouble there. What would you have done if I wasn’t here?”

“…Dunno,” Rude finally said with shrug, daring to peek over the wall. The gunfire had since ceased, and the beach was clear. “… But… I knew you would come.”

“Why’s that?” Reno asked suspiciously, joining him in scanning the beach. The AVALANCHE ship was already pushing out to sea.

“I’ve known you for a long time,” said Rude, rising to his feet. “I know how you think.”

Reno shot to his feet beside him, protesting, “Hey! I’m a lot more unpredictable than that!”

 

Alvis stood pacing the dock, alternating between crossing his arms and clasping his hands behind his back. He was beginning to worry about the others. The sound of footsteps on the hollow pier turned his attention up the dock. They were back. He crossed his arms once more and watched them approach.

“Rude! Reno! What happened?” he demanded.

Reno shot him a look that suggested he cool off his tone. “Just something we had to take care of,” he explained coolly.

“But we took care of it,” added Rude.

“How about you?” Reno shot back, eying the rookie up and down critically.

Alvis uncrossed his arms and relaxed his stance. “I’m all right,” he reported.

Reno slapped him on the chest as he walked past him and started up the ramp. “Well, then,” he drawled. “How about getting back to Midgar…”

Rude brushed past the rookie and followed Reno. “Right,” he confirmed. “We’re leaving.”

Chapter 18: Episode Reno: Part 1

Summary:

Special Episode Reno takes place during Genesis' attack on Shinra HQ in Crisis Core, which occurs immediately after Zack is promoted to 1st and right before his fall into the Sector 5 church.

[Turk Headquarters, Midgar]

Rude entered the Chief’s office, followed closely by Reno. Tseng was already there, standing dutifully on the other side of the desk aside the Chief. As the two men entered, Verdot looked up from his work and watched as they approached his desk shoulder to shoulder and came to a stop across from him. Reno stood with his arms loosely crossed; Rude with his hands clasped quietly behind his back. Both awaited quietly for their orders.

Verdot surveyed them briefly, then cut straight to the point as he almost always did. “Someone has broken into the Science Department archives and made away with a large number of confidential documents,” he briefed the two agents. “Rude. Reno.”

“Sir,” said Rude.

“Yessir,” echoed Reno lazily.

“Identify and apprehend the perpetrator quickly,” the Chief issued their orders efficiently in short clipped tones.

“We believe this case may be related to a certain other incident,” Tseng added from his position beside the Chief.

Rude’s gaze shifted behind his shades to focus on the other Turk. “Which incident?” he asked.

“The SOLDIER mass desertion,” Tseng answered with a frown.

“So there may be more to this mission than meets the eye,” the Chief warned them as he lifted a stack of papers from the edge of his desk and held it out to them. “Start off by checking the contents of the archives against this list and confirm which documents have been stolen.”

Reno reached across the desk and took the thick packet from the Chief. He thumbed through it and puffed out his cheeks as his thumb brushed over the edges of each page. The never-ending list contained the file number and subject name for every document in the Science Department Archives. Releasing the air he’d been storing in his cheeks, he cut the stack randomly and made sure to hand Rude the thicker half.

“Let’s get this over with,” he announced with mock cheer as he turned towards the door.

Rude took the stack Reno handed him and scrutinized it. “I think my half is bigger than yours,” he observed grumpily as he followed him from the room and headed for the elevators.

“Gee, I wonder why that is?” Reno replied lazily as he stepped onto the waiting elevator. He pressed the button for the archive floor – 45 – and flashed Rude a cat-like grin as he settled back against the elevator wall.

Rude refused to argue with him further.

* * *

“Come on, man,” Reno whined for at least the tenth time in twice as many minutes as he pulled another stack of manila folders off the shelf and dropped them to the table. A small cloud of dust puffed up from them. He dramatically waved the dust cloud in Rude’s direction across the table, but got no reaction from the other man.

“How long’ve we been doing this?” he kept complaining, running a hand back through his tousled hair. “I’m sick of having a staring contest with a bunch of old records.”

Rude remained silent on the subject as he opened yet another file and scanned its contents in silence. Reno watched him with a scrutinizing gaze, a mischievous spark glinting in their depths.

“Hey, Rude. Let me tell you something fun–”

“We’re working,” Rude cut him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he said with a flippant wave of his hand. “But I can’t wait until we’re done. How do you put up with it? This kind of work’s a real snooze…” He stole a look over at Rude. The man was exceptionally quiet today. “Being stuck in here is driving me nuts,” Reno droned on. “I’m dyin’ for some flashy action here, man.”

“If you have the time to complain, use it to work,” Rude suggested dryly as he turned the page of his list and reached for another file folder.

“Rude, can’t you feel our precious time slipping through our fingers?” Reno held his hands up and splayed his fingers dramatically. “That’s why I wanna get in as many exciting missions as I can, yo.”

“Flashy or not. Work is work,” Rude retorted, sounding touchy.

“Rude…?”

Rude grunted and continued perusing his list of documents. “…From the first time we met, I knew that you were a real hothead,” he grumbled.

Reno's jaw dropped in mock insult. “Whadda ya mean!?” he demanded, his mind racing for an explanation. That was ages ago… Is he still mad about it?

Before Rude could deride him further, the building’s alarm system suddenly activated, filling every room in the building with a wailing siren. The two Turks froze and looked at each other as the rhythmic wail droned on.

“The alarm!?” Reno asked, standing up and looking quickly around the room.

At the same time, a small platoon of the Shinra Building’s small red security drones rolled into the archive room.

“Security bots?” he observed and looked to Rude.

The bots resembled small saucers about two feet in diameter. While tiny, they could deliver a nasty shock to any intruder they caught trespassing.

“Why here?” Rude mused, rising calmly from his chair and studying the roving mechs.

“Hey, Rude, they only go for suspicious-lookin’ people, don’t they?” Reno asked, sounding antsy.

“Yeah. They track and attack using infrared detection,” Rude explained.

“Ha! Clever little bots, aren’t they?” Reno said, watching the small saucers gliding systematically around the room with great interest. “But what’re they doing in here?”

“Maybe they noticed someone suspicious?” suggested Rude.

Reno suddenly snapped his fingers and began, “You mean maybe…”

Rude nodded in agreement and finished, “…the one who stole the documents?”

Three of the bots turned suddenly in their direction and began gliding towards them, encircling the table. Reno jumped up on his chair as one nearly crashed into his legs.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he shouted. “Something’s wrong with them. What’re they creeping closer to us for?”

“Who knows…” Rude said tonelessly, obviously enjoying Reno’s predicament. “Don’t let it get to you,” he teased.

Then one of the bots charged towards him as well. Rude gave it a gentle kick with his toe to redirect its path.

“They couldn’t be…” Reno wondered out loud as he tracked the bots’ movements around the room.

The bot Rude kicked raised a small turret from its top and aimed it towards Rude’s offending foot. The Turk flinched backward to avoid the numbing voltage directed at his leg.

“Whoa! Looks like they’re serious, yo!” Reno snatched his EMR off the table. “If they’re lookin’ for a fight then they’ve got one!”

Rude punted the bot at his feet again, this time hard enough to send it crashing into a second bot, leaving both of them tangled in a smashed up heap. Reno jumped down from his chair and swung his rod like a golf club, launching a nearby bot into the wall. Together, the Turks disabled the three other remaining security bots. When they were finished, the alarm siren was still wailing. A muffled crash sounded from another room in the archives.

“Geez, what now?” complained Reno.

“It came from down the hall,” said Rude, running to the open door and looking out.

Reno joined him in the doorway as another security bot shot towards them. Rude’s foot quickly dismantled it.

“One thing’s for sure, the bots have us figured for bad guys,” Reno griped.

“What a pain,” Rude stated, looking up and down the hall as more bots came at them from both directions. “All the bots on this floor are after us.”

“Hmph,” Reno snorted. “I could take ‘em all on myself, no sweat.”

Rude leveled an unamused stare at him from behind his shades. “…You grow bored too easily,” he chastised.

“Let’s have a contest,” said Reno a little too excitedly. “Whadda ya say, Rude?”

Rude looked away without responding.

“Not in a good mood, huh,” Reno concluded. “Fine. Then you’re betting your barrier materia. Whoever takes down the most bots wins.”

Rude turned left up the hall and walked away from his partner. “…This too is work,” he reminded him. “I don’t plan on losing.”

Reno watched as Rude brutally attacked the nearest bot, thinking Rude’s demeanor out of character. All day he’d been touchy about one thing after another. It’s like he was mad about something. But what?

Shrugging the notion off, he turned down the hall in the opposite direction and bore down on the nearest bot. “Take this, you hunka junk!” he shouted excitedly as swung at the first drone.

The two Turks circled the floor and met back up again by the elevators. Reno arrived first and waited impatiently as he saw Rude approaching from the other hall. He toyed with his EMR, telescoping it in and out as he fixed Rude with a curious stare.

“Twelve!” he announced as Rude drew near. “Come on, man. How many you get?”

Rude adjusted his glasses but didn’t answer him. Reno crossed his arms and waited.

“I see how it is,” Reno taunted, telescoping his rod again and tapping the end of it against Rude’s chest. “Sore loser?”

“Hmph,” Rude grunted, snorting loudly through his nose as he shoved Reno’s rod aside. “Heap of nonsense… More importantly: Why did the security bots go attack us out of the blue for?”

Reno moved his rod to his shoulder and bounced it there as he considered the predicament. Why had they attacked them, indeed? Before he found an answer, his phone sounded off.

“Yeah, Reno here,” he answered it. The bouncing of his baton slowed as he listened. “…Yessir.”

“Is it the Chief?” Rude asked as he returned the phone to his pocket.

“Yeah,” Reno confirmed, smiling broadly. “It’s time for us to hit the spotlight.”

*

Reno and Rude entered the control room. Tseng and Verdot were both standing with arms crossed, looking serious as they surveyed the wall of monitors. The Chief cast a brief look back over his shoulder when he heard them enter.

“Are the two of you all right?” he greeted them.

“Some rogue security bots attacked us,” Reno reported.

“Even on the 45th floor, huh?” Verdot’s brow wrinkled in concentration as he returned his attention to the monitors and evaluated the information.

“The security bots on all floors started behaving erratically at the same time as the building came under attack,” Tseng informed Rude and Reno.

The control room phone beeped, accompanied by a blinking green light on the terminal. Tseng reached over the dash board and flipped on the speaker as he checked the screen.

“It’s Cissnei,” he notified them.

“Damage report?” Verdot inquired.

“No problems here,” Cissnei relayed. “A SOLDIER 1st Class is dealing with the situation.”

“You mean Sephiroth?” the Chief asked for clarification as he scanned the new reports coming in.

“No, Zack,” she corrected him. “He just got promoted today.”

“Zack…” he mused, trying to place a face with the name. Yes, he knew him as a 2nd Class, but his promotion had been expected. The young man had been close with Angeal, if he recalled correctly. Though this detail was of little consequence at the moment. Dismissing the thought, he returned to the problem at hand. “Tseng, have you found out what’s causing the bots’ strange behavior?”

The young Turk shook his head as he returned to his seat at one of the room’s many computer terminals. “It may take some time, sir. Both the building and the bots have to be brought back under control,” he explained.

“So the security system went haywire and the building was attacked all at the same time…” Verdot pondered.

“Could the two be related?” suggested Cissnei over the speakers.

“As the Turks, it our job to find out,” Verdot said urgently. “Headquarters is under attack, and the identity of the enemy is still unknown.”

“Is it our turn to shine?” Reno asked with a grin, rubbing his hands together as though hungry for some action.

“No,” the Chief disappointed him. “Leave repelling the attack to SOLDIER.”

“But they’ve already got their hands full,” Reno protested.

“They still have their newly promoted 1st Class to send out,” Verdot reminded him.

“Sure took him a while to get that promotion,” mocked Reno, grumbling under his breath.

“There was an empty spot among the 1st Classes, and SOLDIER has been short on manpower recently,” the Chief explained, though he didn’t owe his subordinate any such courtesy.

“The SOLDIER mass desertion, right?” Rude clarified.

“But what about the wacky bots?” Reno pressed, ignoring Rude’s interjection and looking for some way to get involved in the action.

“Their erratic behavior coincided with the assault on the company headquarters… And it’s not just the security bots. Systems throughout the entire building went out of control,” reported Verdot, regarding his subordinate’s eagerness with a single raised eyebrow.

“Could it be connected to the attack?” Rude postulated.

Verdot nodded. “That possibility must be investigated. And investigating is what we Turks do.”

“Well, then,” Reno said, grasping at the opportunity, “we’d better hurry and–”

“That won’t be necessary,” Verdot stopped him. “Leave the investigation to Cissnei.”

“To Cissnei!?” Reno exclaimed, sounding incredulous. “But what about us?”

“You continue to check the archives to confirm which documents are missing,” the Chief ordered, casting him a look that warned him not to argue further.

Reno held the director’s gaze for only a brief moment before giving in. “… I hear ya,” he acquiesced submissively.

Turning away, he left the control room with Rude in tow, leading the way back to the elevators that would whisk then back to the dusty archives. Stepping into the lift, he slouched against the back wall while Rude pressed the buttons to take them upward. Putting his hands behind his head, he bemoaned their renewed sentence. “Back to the ol’ staring contest, huh… It ain’t fair that SOLDIER gets to hog all the good parts. Well, well, guess we’ve got no choice.”

“You always get distracted unless it’s a big job,” Rude reprimanded his partner.

“Hmph.” Reno brushed his evaluation aside and changed the subject. “Why’s Cissnei getting the special treatment?” he wanted to know.

“Good question,” Rude agreed.

“The newcomers don’t even know she exists,” Reno complained.

“Yeah. She also goes about her work carefully and diligently,” Rude reminded him before adding, “…unlike a certain someone I know…”

“Hey, Rude?” Reno asked, a needling edge to his voice. “That ‘certain someone’, he wouldn’t happen to wear sunglasses?”

“No…” Rude retorted. “Goggles.”

The elevator coasted to a stop and the doors bounced open with a welcoming chime that only served to dampen Reno’s already sour disposition.

“Uuugghh…” he groaned dramatically, pushing his hands back through his already disheveled hair as he stepped off the elevator. “I shouldn’t have gotten out of bed today.”

Rude made no comment on the declaration, instead stepping past his lousing partner and leading the trek back down the left hallway to their abandoned workstation from earlier. As they reached the doorway to their “prison cell” – as Reno had come to call it – Reno pulled up short, eyes focused on another doorway at the end of the hall. Ahead of them, a dark figure stepped into the hallway before quickly disappearing around the corner in the opposite direction.

“Hm? There’s someone here!?” he exclaimed dubiously.

Rude shook his head. “Impossible.”

“Yeah,” Reno agreed, still staring down the now empty corridor. “The floor’s locked down. We should be the only ones here.”

“So if there is someone sneaking around…” suggested Rude.

“…You can bet that it’s the document thief!” Reno reasoned, his excitement mounting. “The security system shot up to S when the alarm went off!”

“The stairs are blocked during a Level S state of alert,” Rude recalled. “No one can access them, not even SOLDIER, the Turks, or the executives.”

Reno considered the Level S protocols. “So that means the only way out is the entrance,” he concluded, turning to Rude.

“Then that’s where our suspect is headed,” his partner agreed.

“And the only way down is the elevator!” Reno said, spinning around and heading back towards the front of the floor.

The two Turks reached the lobby just as the elevator doors slid closed. Skidding to a stop in front of it, Reno jammed the buttons frantically, ordering the doors to open again. Meanwhile, Rude pried his fingers into the crack between the two sliding doors and forced them open just a moment too late; the car had already started to descend. Without a word, Rude turned away from the open shaft and sprinted over to the second service elevator across the lobby. Its car was already there.

“Let’s split up!” Reno shouted after him as Rude entered the service elevator. “I’ll get him from above!”

Turning back to the open elevator door, he threw himself recklessly into the empty shaft and dropped down to the rapidly descending car. He landed in a stable crouch with a dull thud that undoubtedly sounded louder to the occupant inside. His wild hair blew back from his forehead as the air in the shaft rushed past him, and a wide grin split his face as he finally felt the adrenaline rush he'd been craving all day.

Chapter 19: Episode Reno: Part 2

“I gotta grab that goon stat. This is going great!” Reno declared with an exhilarated grin as he tried to stand and regain his balance on top of the descending lift. He swayed for a moment before feeling stable enough to move. “There we go. Sorry, Rude, but the one to nab him will be me!”

Stepping over to the emergency hatch on top of the car, he dropped to his knees and grabbed the handle. He twisted the lever and gave it a hard yank, but it didn’t budge. He rattled the hatch some more before noticing the keypad on top of the latch.

“It won’t open…” he growled with an accompanying curse. “I have to enter a password.” … Oh well, guess that won’t be a problem, he thought cockily as he pulled out his phone and called headquarters. “Chief, it’s Reno,” he shouted into the phone, covering the speaker to protect it from the rushing wind created by the plunging car. “We’re chasing after this shady character we spotted in the archives. Right now I’m sitting atop elevator number A108. You see it?”

--

“Reno… Charging straight in again…” Verdot moaned under his breath as he turned to his second in command. “Tseng.”

“Sir.”

“Check the surveillance camera inside the elevator,” he requested.

Tseng scrolled through the list of cameras on the monitor until he found the one tagged A108. The screen came up blank.

“Sir, the surveillance camera is not responding,” Tseng reported.

The Chief growled in frustration. “So they’re malfunctioning too.”

“Hey!” Reno’s voice blared from the speaker. “I need a password to get the hatch open. Could you look it up for me?”

“All right. I’ll put Tseng on it,” the Chief told him.

--

Reno returned his attention to the hatch in front of him. It was sealed tight. No amount of prying would get it open. Suddenly, the elevator lurched beneath him and would have thrown him down if he hadn’t already been on his knees. The elevator had come to a stop. Slowly, Reno stood up and looked back up the shaft. A large 20 was painted in white letters on the wall to his right. The elevator stopped on the 20th floor?

“That’s weird…” he muttered. He'd thought for sure their thief was going all the way down to the lobby.

Then, just as quickly as it had stopped, the elevator started moving again, going up.

“What the–!”

The sudden upward thrust forced Reno to his knees again as it began picking up speed. Working quickly, he got his phone back out and called headquarters. He needed that password pronto.

--

“Sir!” Tseng called the Chief over to the monitors, sounding alarmed. “The elevator Reno is on is heading back up. Unless it’s stopped, he’s in danger.”

“Have you found the password?” the Chief asked urgently, joining him at the computer terminal.

Tseng shook his head as his fingers continued to fly over the keyboard. “Not yet. The Level S alert has tightened security. I’m going to need more time to decipher the password.”

“Time is running short,” Verdot cautioned. “Give Reno any scrap of information we have on that password.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And contact Rude.”

“I’ve already tried that,” Tseng informed him. “It seems that I can’t get in touch with him.”

The Chief hummed a frustrated growl as Tseng got Reno back on the line. “Reno, here’s the situation. You have fifty seconds until the elevator reaches the 59th floor.”

“So I’ve gotta solve this fast or I’ll be squashed flat,” Reno said unenthusiastically.

“I’m in the middle of deciphering the password now,” Tseng assured him, sounding much more calm than Reno. “I’ll let you know as soon as I have anything.”

“I’m gonna give it a shot too,” Reno said, his fingers hovering over the keypad as he tried to think of a reasonable password.

“Alright. The password consists of eight digits,” Tseng offered.

“Okay, got it.” Man, there’s no time to waste… Reno tried putting in the first number that came to mind. Nothing. Come on and open!

“Reno, stop!” Tseng ordered. “You have to get it right in two tries or the mechanism will lock itself.”

Reno’s hand froze over the keypad once more. Tseng could've told him that earlier.

Reno’s specialty is his speed, the Chief bemoaned, putting a hand to his face, his mind racing for a solution. Depending on the situation, being fast can be both an advantage and a disadvantage. If only Rude was there…

“Sir!” Tseng called for his attention. “Cissnei is on the line.”

Verdot lowered his hand and listened.

“Someone has reprogrammed the security system from the inside,” her voice immediately came over the speakers. “Backup restoration has been disabled, but I’m working on fixing it right now.”

“So it wasn’t a coincidence after all.” The Chief took a deep breath. “Tseng.”

“Sir.”

“How is it going with the elevator?”

“We might be able to regain control, but it will take time,” he reported solemnly.

They didn't have time. Reno didn’t have time. The Chief fumed, “Isn’t there any way to stop it–”

“Reno, I have it!” Tseng interrupted him. “The eight digits of the password are 1-9-5-9-0-9-2-3.”

“1-9-5-9-0-9-2-3,” Reno repeated the numbers as he keyed them in.

A positive beep sounded from the lock, and one of the red lights blinked to green. The password blinked off the screen as a new message scrolled across: INPUT CODE #2

“Another password!?” Reno exploded, adding in a couple of expletives. “What’s going on?” he shouted into the phone.

“It’s a two-stage password,” Verdot explained calmly and turned to Tseng. “Time is running short…”

“Sir, incoming call from Cissnei.”

“Zack has secured the upper floors, and Sephiroth has escorted the President to safety,” Cissnei reported. “However, the rampaging security bots have spilled out onto the streets. Innocent citizens might be attacked if this keeps up.”

“What!?” the Chief demanded. “That cannot be permitted. The company would lose face if they started attacking the citizenry. Take immediate action!”

“Shouldn’t SOLDIER be enough to handle it?” Cissnei argued.

“SOLDIER is short on people right now,” lamented Verdot. “They won’t be able to cover all of Midgar.”

“Hey, Tseng!” Reno’s frantic voice came over the speakers. “About the second password… I’m in a pinch here, you know!”

“Reno, the second code is different,” said Tseng. “It changes with every floor. You have to enter the floor number that the elevator is currently on.”

He paused as he heard Reno mumble, “That’s just great…” accompanied by another expletive.

“Focus, Reno!” Tseng admonished. “According to the monitor, you’re approaching Floor 54.”

“Fifty-four?” Reno repeated, placing his fingers lightly over the two numbers.

“Now!” Tseng ordered.

Reno quickly keyed the two numbers in as the car raced past the fifty-fourth level. The lock mechanism beeped as the second light changed to green.

“All right! It opened!” he celebrated as he twisted the handle.

“Sir! The elevator hatch has been unlocked!” Tseng reported.

“So Reno made it in time…” Verdot said with a sigh of relief.

“Yes – wait… What’s– !?” Tseng asked suddenly, his hands back on the keyboard once more.

Verdot ran over to look at the monitor. He saw it too. “What!?”

At the top of the elevator shaft, a hatch dropped open, releasing a large security bot. The mech fell through the open door and dropped towards the rising elevator.

“Reno!” Tseng shouted a warning.

Reno looked up just in time to see the mech plummeting towards him. Releasing the hatch, he drew his EMR and swung it upward to deflect the drone as it crashed down upon him. Following the impact, Reno found himself flat on his back on top of the hatch with the mech bearing down over him, suspended by six spider-like legs, three on either side of him. In addition, two small arms unfolded from its underside and snaked towards him, mechanical claws flexing. Activating the electric shock function on his rod, Reno swatted them away. With his right hand, he reached up and pried back a small plate of the mech’s metal skin before thrusting the tip of his rod into the bot’s exposed interior. The high voltage was enough to fry the circuitry and disable it. With a fading whine, the bot’s hydraulics went out and it collapsed on top of him.

Yo, that was close! thought Reno as he panted for breath and wrestled the large machine off him.

“Reno! Hurry inside now!” he heard the Chief shouting from his dropped phone.

“There’s still time!” Tseng’s voice joined in urging him to move.

With a mighty grunt, he threw the security bot to the side and rolled back to the hatch.

I’m not gonna make it! he thought frantically as he clawed at the latch.

An earsplitting squeal accompanied by a shower of sparks erupted to his right. He threw an arm up to cover his face as the smell of burnt machinery filled the elevator shaft. It was then that he noticed that the elevator had stopped. Looking to his right, he saw that the security bot he had discarded had become wedged between the car and the shaft, effectively braking the elevator to a stop on the 58th floor. In front of him, the handle on the hatch began to turn. Snatching up his EMR again, he held it cocked back, ready to apprehend the perpetrator as he emerged. With a forceful thrust, the hatch popped open and flipped over onto the roof of the car with a loud bang. The man inside poked his up through the opening and looked directly up at Reno.

“You’re a dangerous man,” Rude scolded him.

“Rude!?” Reno screamed at finding his partner inside the elevator.

“You would have been flat by now if it hadn’t been for the bot,” Rude informed him.

“Why’re you here?” Reno asked, still slack jawed by his unexpected appearance. “Weren’t you going to head for the entrance?”

“I planned to catch the elevator on the 20th floor,” Rude explained.

Reno looked down at him with pinched eyebrows as he finally lowered his weapon. “Then the thief…?”

“There was no one there when I got on,” Rude confirmed.

“How could he have disappeared?” Reno growled, looking around the shaft for clues. “I’m sure he took the elevator. I rode atop it all the way to the 20th floor and it didn’t make a single stop along the way.”

“Then how did the thief escape?” Rude asked the obvious question.

“Unless he…” Reno locked eyes with Rude.

“…Never got on in the first place?” his partner suggested.

“So he just pretended to ride the elevator. Damn it.” Reno stood up and began pacing around the top of the car. “We’ve been had… We botched our job… …Hey, Rude. You said you got on on the 20th floor, right?”

He nodded. “I expected you to be right above me.”

“The elevator started climbing back up once it got to the 20th floor,” Reno recalled, turning back to Rude and pointing his rod at him accusingly. “So while I was fighting for my life, you were inside there all along.”

“…Maybe.” Rude shrugged.

“Then why didn’t you hurry up and stop it?” Reno cried. “Were you trying to kill me!?”

Rude looked at him blankly from behind his sunglasses, not saying a word.

“You’re not denying it,” Reno said to him. “Were you really gonna–”

“I was trapped too,” Rude defended himself. “None of the buttons would work.”

“The elevator system was acting up too, huh?” Reno mused, calming down a bit.

Rude nodded. “That’s why the emergency brakes wouldn’t kick in.”

“Then why’d it stop?” asked Reno.

“The power lines had to have been cut,” Rude reasoned.

“That bot must’ve taken them out in the destruction,” Reno concluded, looking back over at the crushed mech now wedged between the edge of the elevator and the wall of the shaft. “Eh. All’s well that ends well,” he concluded with a shrug as he turned back towards the hatch. “It’s about time I got to come inside.”

A rare grin tugged at Rude’s face as Reno came closer and knelt down beside him. “Scared?” he asked his friend.

“Come on, that was mean,” Reno complained, pushing Rude out of the way to dangle his feet over the ledge.

“Don’t worry,” Rude said as he retreated back inside. “The elevator isn’t going anywhere.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Reno accused as he dropped down to the floor of the car.

“Isn’t that what you always say?” Rude reminded him. “Work is fun once it’s over?”

“That’s enough outta you,” Reno warned, pointing the tip of his rod towards him. “You really did get up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

“You’re not all smiles today either,” Rude retorted calmly.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

“Anyway, on to the next job,” announced Rude.

“Sheesh, we’re being worked to the bone here,” Reno complained as he straightened his jacket.

“It’s a flashy job this time,” his partner tried to console him. “That suits you fine, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does,” drawled Reno. “Let’s take this chance to make up for the last job.”

Twenty minutes later, they had escaped from the still-stuck elevator and made their way down via the stairwell. When they reached the lobby, Verdot called with an update on the situation.

“The rogue security bots have taken to the streets,” explained the Chief. “We’ve been unable to confirm it, but it seems that there might be monsters about as well. SOLDIER has been deployed, but it’s a big area to cover. Sector 8 is our responsibility. We’ll take care of the enemy here. Cissnei should already be on the scene. Reno, Rude, get out there as fast as you can.”

“Yessir,”,“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

The two Turks sprinted across the remainder of the lobby, crunching broken glass underfoot. When they burst through the front door of the Shinra building, they found the streets filled with security bots roving this way and that. A burning car sat half on the curb at the base of the steps, a plume of black smoke rising from under its hood. The streets were devoid of citizenry, all the people having gone into hiding, no doubt.

“Would you look at that,” Reno moaned. “All of Midgar’s overrun by security bots.”

“This is going to take a while…” Rude sighed. “Let’s split up.”

“All right. I’ll go north,” Reno volunteered and took off.

“Then I’ll take the west side,” said Rude.

Splitting up, Reno vaulted down a short flight of stairs and turned up the first side street he came to. He slid to an abrupt stop. The narrow alley was teeming with the small disc shaped intruder mechs. How they had gotten so far away from the Shinra Building he didn’t know, nor did he have time to ponder it. Activating his electric rod, he dove down the alley, scattering bots left and right as he went. With the street cleared, he turned back to observe the sparking skeletons of the dismembered bots. The sight gave him an odd sense of satisfaction, and he smiled despite the circumstances.

Then, a rapid beeping came from his pocket. He pulled out his phone. A female voice greeted him.

“Cissnei here. How is it going, Reno?”

“Yo, Cissnei!” he crooned, a grin lifting his voice pleasantly as he greeted his colleague. “Things are clearing out over here.”

“As fast as always,” Cissnei said with a smile, before turning serious again. “The bots have been seen gathering on the west side as well.”

“I hear ya,” Reno confirmed, turning west. Rude was supposed to be covering that area.

“Great,” Cissnei instructed. “Then link up with Rude on the west si– Aahh–!?”

Reno felt his heart leap into his throat at the sound of her startled cry. “Whoa! Hey! Cissnei!?” he shouted into the phone with alarm. She didn’t respond. “Cissnei! What’s wrong? Answer!” he demanded. He pulled the phone away from his ear and looked down at it to see that the call had been disconnected. “Did she get cut off? Or did something happen?” he mumbled.

If there was trouble, Cissnei was more than capable of handling herself, he tried to remind himself. While he debated calling her back, the device suddenly started chiming again in his hand, and he answered it on the first tone.

“Cissnei?” he said with some relief. “Are you all right!?”

An awkward silence filled the line as he waited anxiously for an answer.

“…It’s me,” the caller finally answered. The deep voice belonged to Rude. “Did something happen to Cissnei?”

“We were talking when the line suddenly went dead,” Reno explained, trying to mask his concern. “Why did you call?”

There was another short stretch of silence before Rude spoke again. “…Never mind…” he replied quietly.

“Rude?” Reno asked warily. His colleague was sounding weird.

“Nothing,” Rude answered quickly.

“You all right?”

“…Don’t bother,” Rude insisted.

“Well, I’m not buying it,” Reno declared, already starting towards the west side of Sector 8. “I’m heading over whether you like it or not.”

Pocketing the phone, he broke into a full on sprint back the way he had come then angled west. Keeping his rod at the ready, he swatted away bots as he went, encountering a handful of the saucer-shaped security disks on nearly every street. Rounding another corner, he finally came upon Rude punching his way through a cluster of security mechs. He came to a stop as he watched his partner punt one small bot into the brick wall lining the alley and scoop up another in his hand. Turning around, he lifted it over his head and then smashed it down onto the pavement.

With the alley clear, Rude turned around to find Reno loitering at the end of it, watching him with arms crossed and a catty grin plastered to his face. Straightening his shoulders, Rude pushed his glasses more snugly against his face with his index finger and started towards him.

Reno’s grin widened as he pushed off the wall to face him. “Man, would you look at you?” he praised.

Rude merely grunted his dislike of the slighted compliment and brushed passed him.

Dropping his arms, Reno turned after him. “What? Today, you’ve been– Oh well, whatever,” he dropped the subject with a wave of his hand. “It’s another job well done.”

“Let’s go look for Cissnei,” Rude announced as he stepped out of the alleyway.

“Finally!” Reno shouted dramatically and he hurried after him.

Chapter 20: Episode Reno: Part 3

Reno and Rude concluded their patrol of Sector 8 outside the mako reactor located on the outer edge of the sector. A few stray bots had crossed their path, but, for the most part, the city had calmed down considerably. However, a hotspot of bots had been reported just south of their location.

“Look!” Reno suddenly grabbed Rude’s arm and pointed up the alley running past the reactor. A familiar looking figure was running away from them, growing smaller as he reached the end of the alley and turned the corner out of sight.

“It’s the thief from the archives!” Rude confirmed.

“Damn it, we gotta catch him!” Reno shouted as he let go of his partner and started after the fugitive.

But Rude’s hand clamped down on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Leave him,” he ordered. “Right now our job is to restore peace to Sector 8.”

“But he’s getting away right in front of our eyes,” Reno growled in frustration as he jabbed a finger at the thief’s receding form.

Rude released his arm and headed in the direction of the reported bots instead. “Hate simple jobs?” he accused Reno.

“I hate botching a mission even more,” snarled Reno.

“Forget about it,” Rude ordered again. “If you can’t shake old mistakes, you’ll just screw up again. Better get your priorities straight.”

“I know, I know,” Reno mumbled as he followed after him. “But–”

“We don’t have any time to lose,” said Rude, all business. “Let it rest. You said it the first time we met.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Reno grumbled, reaching in his pocket for his phone. “That’s why, right now, ‘we have to give our job at hand everything we’ve got’. I’ve heard it before…”

* * *

[Turk Headquarters]

Verdot’s eyes roved across the monitors as he kept track of the progress to reclaim the city. Only a few of the city’s surveillance cameras were back online, so he was relying on the eyewitness reports coming in from his agents in the field. At that moment a call came in over the intercom, and he flipped on the speaker.

“Sephiroth has pacified Sectors 1 and 2,” Cissnei reported.

That was fast…Verdot thought as he updated his progress log.

“He seems to be on his way to Sector 3 now,” she continued. “But there are problems with restoring order in Sector 7.”

“What about Sector 8?” asked the Chief.

“It’s pretty rough, sir,” Cissnei admitted.

“Look for the source of the enemy outbreak,” Verdot ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

The intercom beeped twice, indicating a second incoming call. Verdot flipped to the other line. “What is it, Reno?” he answered.

“We’ve spotted the documents thief,” Reno announced.

Verdot looked up from his work and eyed the speaker. “You have?”

“Requesting permission to track him down, sir,” Reno pleaded.

Verdot evaluated the current state of affairs and Reno’s motives. “… So you’re saying you’ve found a flashier job to take on, is that it?”

“No…” Reno answered slowly as he prepared a defense to his request. “It’s not about flashy action, I just don’t wanna leave a job half-done.”

“What about your current mission?” the Chief tested him.

“Tseng and Cissnei are enough to handle Sector 8,” Reno concluded. “Besides, if we miss this chance we’ll never catch the thief.”

“I am well aware of that,” Verdot reminded him with a surprising degree of lightness.

“Huh?” Reno asked, sounding confused.

“I’m expecting results,” the Chief warned him.

“Gotcha!” Reno assured the Chief as he flashed Rude a wide smile and an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

---

Ten minutes later, a platoon of small security bots rushed at the two Turks from all directions as they descended down into the Plate. Rude kicked one of them, punting it into another one and encouraging them to back off momentarily.

Far ahead of them, their quarry reached the end of the dimly lit tunnel and paused to chance a glance at them over his shoulder. “Give it up, Turks!” he called back tauntingly before disappearing around the corner.

“The security bots here are acting up, too,” Reno growled furiously, swatting at one with his EMR.

“You’ll never catch me…” the man’s voice drifted back to them from farther up the tunnel.

“You slippery little…” Reno shouted back. “An amateur like you has no hope to escape the Turks!” He sidestepped another saucer-shaped bot and thrashed it into submission. “We can’t waste any more time fighting,” he told Rude. “We have to hurry.”

Leaping over the last bot, Reno took off down the tunnel while Rude snatched up the small saucer bot and smashed it against the wall before going after him. Reno reached the end of the tunnel and careened around the corner. The new tunnel before him branched left and right. Both were currently empty.

“Dammit! We lost him…” Reno cursed. “If it wasn’t for these bots we’d catch up to him in no time… This ain’t our lucky day.”

Rude crossed his arms as he considered the situation. “…You say we’re out of luck?” he challenged Reno. “This is no coincidence.”

“What do you mean!?”

“He’s counting on the bots to help him get away,” Rude concluded.

Reno shook his head in frustration. “How’s that possible? They’re attacking anyone in sight,” he paused for a moment as the probability dawned on him. “…Unless he hacked their tracking program… It could be a possibility.”

Rude nodded in agreement, then asked, “But how was he able to reprogram Shinra bots?”

“Hmmm… Good ques–” Reno cut off at the sound of approaching footsteps in the right tunnel.

Together, they moved to the entrance of it and saw their thief coming back towards them. The man stopped suddenly in his tracks, looking genuinely surprised to see them. He acted lost. Reno grinned wickedly.

“We’ve got you now,” he taunted the man as they started towards him.

“I–I know who you are,” he stammered, as he backed away from them with a frightened look on his face. “Reno and Rude. Turks. According to my data–”

“Data?” Reno spat angrily at his babbling.

“Together, you hold a near perfect record of successfully accomplished missions,” the suspect ranted on nervously, taking one step back after another.

“What are you talking about!?” Reno yelled, color rising in his pale cheeks. The man was starting to give him the creeps. Had he been stalking them? Reno felt violated.

“Yes, I’ve read all about you two,” the man taunted, noting the rise he was getting from Reno.

“Our mission data is seriously confidential information,” Reno said defensively, jabbing the tip of his rod in his direction. “Even the top brass has barely laid eyes on it!”

“Elementary,” the man bragged, sounding pleased with himself. “Shinra’s network security is flawless. Hacking into it from the outside is impossible.”

“So you have access to the system?” asked Reno, encouraging the man to continue talking.

“A system administrator could extract that kind of data,” Rude affirmed.

The farther the man got down the tunnel, the more relaxed he appeared to become, despite the continuous advancements of the two Turks cornering him. When he reached the end of the corridor, he pressed himself back against the wall, and his eyes flickered to the tunnel opening on his left. Three men appeared from the around the corner and marched past him to form a line between him and the Turks. They wore familiar dark-colored fatigues and knit turtlenecks. Face shields attached to their helmets covered their faces, and they carried Shinra-issued swords.

“Outta the way!” Reno snarled, glaring past them to the fugitive.

“I believe we’re done for today,” the man announced as he turned his back on them and sprinted away.

Reno started towards the men.

“Watch out, Reno,” Rude warned as he studied the man’s bodyguards. “They’re SOLDIER members who deserted with Genesis.”

“Suits me fine,” Reno growled as he activated his EMR. “SOLDIER always hogs all the glory anyway. It’s payback time, Rude.”

“Yeah,” Rude agreed. Putting his fists together, he cracked his knuckles as the SOLDIERs started towards them.

---

“Sir,” Cissnei called the Chief. “Some of the SOLDIER members who deserted with Genesis have been spotted in Sector 8.”

“What’s the situation?” he asked, demanding more information.

“I have been trying to track the movements of the masked units… Ah!?” Cissnei gasped and the line went silent for a brief moment. “I’ve spotted Genesis!” she exclaimed. “He’s moving on his own. I’m continuing pursuit.”

“Be careful,” Verdot cautioned her.

Cissnei gasped again, louder and more urgent than before, then a muffled sound filled the speaker.

“Cissnei!?” Verdot asked in alarm.

“I was almost spotted,” she came back on. “Chief, I gotta go!”

As she hung up, the intercom indicated another call incoming.

“Reno?”

“We’ve caught the document thief and confirmed his identity,” he reported.

“Good work. Who was it?” asked the Chief.

“Neumann,” Reno revealed. “The head system administrator.”

“He’s the one behind the security system anomalies,” added Rude.

“I see…” said the Chief thoughtfully as he lifted a hand to mindlessly stroke the scar on his left cheek. “He was the leader of the system development team, no wonder that he was able to manipulate it to such an extent. But why would he be interested in stealing so many scientific reports?”

“Money,” said Reno with a disgusted bite to his voice.

“He was offered a big payoff for turning traitor,” explained Rude.

“Now if we could only find out who the mastermind is,” said the Chief. He had his suspicions, but–

“Hollander of the Science Department,” Reno revealed proudly. They had uncovered that bit of information as well.

The Chief could hear Neumann protesting against their treatment of him in the background. He ignored the distraction. “That makes sense. Hollander is suspected to have been involved with Genesis over the SOLDIER mass desertion,” he informed Reno and Rude. “Then the security system malfunction was deliberately timed to coincide with the attack on company headquarters.”

“They’re based in Mako Reactor 5,” Reno added, revealing the location of Hollander’s new base of operations.

“I’ll inform Lazard and have SOLDIER sent there as soon as possible,” the Chief notified them. “Good work, you two.”

“All right. Then we’ll head over to Reactor 5, too,” Reno informed him.

“That won’t be necessary,” Verdot stopped him.

“Why!?” Reno demanded angrily.

“This is SOLDIER’s business,” the Chief reminded him. “Let them sort it out.”

Reno grunted his disagreement with the decision.

“SOLDIER is best suited to deal with SOLDIER,” the Chief insisted with a tone of warning in his voice. “Stay out of it,” he concluded and ended the call.

---

“…There we go,” Reno sighed, returning the phone to his pocket. “Having our work stolen from right under noses again.”

“There’s no helping it,” Rude responded calmly, seemingly unmoved by the Chief’s decision.

“But… We never really got to the bottom of this,” Reno complained, feeling as though the mission was being left uncompleted. “Today’s been one close call after another.”

“SOLDIER’s manpower problems almost proved lethal,” recalled Rude, giving Neumann a shove as they emerged from the tunnels within the Plate.

Reno waved over one of the guards from the nearby reactor and handed the disgraced system administrator over to him.

“And they’ve still got the guts to tell us to mind our own business,” Reno vented, turning back to Rude. “It’s always ‘SOLDIER this, SOLDIER that,’ dammit!”

“That’s the way it is,” Rude replied casually. “Like you say, Reno: you have to go with the flow.”

“What’s done is done, huh?” Reno finally agreed with a half-hearted shrug.

“So, you feel like taking on a flashy job?” Rude asked, indicating the direction to Sector 5. “It’ll take a while for SOLDIER to get here.”

“Nah, I don’t feel like it,” Reno grumbled, waving his hand as he turned back towards headquarters. “It’s not a job for us Turks. Why waste our precious time on it?”

“…You sure you haven’t changed a little?” Rude asked, watching his colleague carefully from behind his dark lenses.

“I ain’t changed a bit,” Reno said bitingly. “…It’s just that you can’t always get what you want, so sometimes it’s best to let bygones be bygones.”

“…I see.”

“Good,” Reno said, his countenance lifting suspiciously. “Now that that’s behind us, let’s get back to work.”

“We’re already done for the day,” Rude reminded him.

“Yeah, today was a real backbreaker. But…”

“…Leave it,” Rude warned, renewing his sullen attitude as he strode purposefully past him in the direction of the distant Shinra Building.

“Are you still mad?” Reno prodded him. “Partners shouldn’t hide things from each other.”

“Hmph,” he grunted. “I’m just peachy.”

“No, that’s no good,” Reno insisted, his voice taking on a mischievous pitch. “Let’s make a bet.”

“A bet?” asked Rude suspiciously.

“Let’s see who can get the prize first.”

“Get?” Rude asked slowly. “Get what?”

“Your usual pair of shades, Rude,” Reno said, pointing to his own eyes.

“Wha–!?”

“You’re having them repaired, right?” Reno pressed on.

“But, how…” Rude gasped. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“Rude, how many years have we been a team?” Reno taunted, placing a hand on the big man’s shoulder and gesturing to the glasses covering his eyes. “You’re wearing a spare pair. No wonder I thought there was something strange about you today. Come on, you gonna stand around and pout forever?”

Rude shrugged him off. “Fine… I’ll take you up on that bet.”

“Then what will you bet?” Reno needled him.

“Like I’m going to tell you,” Rude retorted.

Chapter 21: 5: The Dreams of a Nameless Soldier, Part 1

Elfe entered the dimly lit meeting room. AVALANCHE headquarters was far from sophisticated, but the secretive meeting place fulfilled its purpose, concealing what went on inside from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears. Fuhito sat at the otherwise empty table, collecting a small scattering of documents that had been spread across the wooden surface before him. As Elfe came through the door, he rose from the table and flashed her a rare smile.

Seeing the look on his face, Elfe ventured a guess to the reason why. “I hear we have received new intelligence from one of our informants,” she greeted him.

“Yes,” he answered, nodding in satisfaction. “We've received some rather exciting news.”

“Is it about the classified Shinra program?” Elfe asked. Her fist clenched at her side, belying her eagerness for any word on the subject. “Soon we'll be able to fight with SOLIDER on an even footing.”

With a muted chuckle, Fuhito clasped his hands behind his back. “Indeed,” he answered affirmatively with a slight dip of his chin. “The day of Shinra’s downfall is at hand.”

Eager to hear more, Elfe stepped closer and leaned over the table, palms pressed against its surface. “So,” she prodded, “what have your informants found out exactly?”

“The schedule of the one carrying the secret data,” Fuhito revealed, looking back down at one of the pages still lying on the table. He reviewed its contents quickly and added, “It seems that she will arrive at the train station tomorrow morning.”

“Will that be when we strike?” Elfe asked, pushing back from table as though ready to depart at the very moment.

Fuhito nodded. “That is correct. I have already dispatched my special troops for this mission.”

“Your troops?” Elfe raised an eyebrow, unsure of what Fuhito's plan was to be.

Unconcerned by her confusion, he merely waved her off and said, “Yes. Simply leave it to me, please.”

Daring one more question, Elfe pressed him for another bit of information, “So, who is the one carrying the data?”

Fuhito looked up at her, another rare smile curling his lips as he recounted the name he had been told, “A certain Doctor Rayleigh.”

* * *

[Midgar Station. 06:00]

A dark haired, bespectacled woman stepped up to the boarding platform at the station. The clicking of her blue heels was muted by the softer thud of the six booted feet of the Shinra infantrymen escorting her. Her short blue dress matched the hue of her shoes and left her shoulders bare to the coolness of the morning, but she didn't mind. The early mornings were her favorite time of day, when the air was still clear and before the hustle and bustle of the city came fully to life. A train was docked at the platform. It was a typical commuter train that made regular rounds about the city.

The three infantryman stood in a loose formation around her. The excessive security came with being a Shinra scientist. She didn't always like the intrusion of privacy that came with the constant protection, but she understood the necessity of it. The typical accompaniment was one guard. The addition of two more was evidence of the importance of the computer chip she had tucked away in her pocket. She reached in the pocket of her dress and wrapped her fingers around the small data disk. Satisfied that it was safely where is should be, she removed her hand and crossed her arms. A slight breeze had begun to blow across the boarding platform, and Dr. Rayleigh rubbed the chill from her bare arms. She was starting to regret leaving her lab coat at the office. The sound of approaching footsteps along the platform drew her attention. A man in a black suit was headed their way.

The Turk, still out of earshot, held up his phone and informed his commander of his position. “I have arrived at the station, sir.”

“What about Doctor Rayleigh?' asked Verdot.

Alvis looked up the platform and nodded to the doctor and her entourage of infantrymen. “She’s already here,” he reported.

“Your job is to provide safe conduct for the doctor,” Verdot ordered. “The disk she has with her contains highly classified company secrets.”

“Company secrets…” the Turk mused, then dared to ask, “What’s on that disk?”

To his surprise, his superior answered, “All data pertaining to SOLDIER. If AVALANCHE gets a hold of it, it will pose a serious threat to the company.”

“Understood, sir,” Alvis confirmed the importance of his mission and pocketed the phone.

Turning back down the platform, he looked again at Dr. Rayleigh as he approached. The petite woman was in possession of some of Shinra's most prized information. But he would not have guessed that by looking at her. She appeared quite at ease. If not for the three bodyguards surrounding her, she would appear no different than any other commuter awaiting their morning train. Whether she realized it or not, she had a target on her back, and protecting the information she carried was a top Shinra priority.

As Alvis drew near, the doctor and her guards turned to face him. Not wanting to alarm her, he put one hand in his pocket, trying to appear calm and unconcerned. He nodded his greeting and offered a tight-lipped smile as he introduced himself.

“I’m Alvis of the Turks. I have been sent here to act as your escort. Pleased to meet you.”

Dr. Rayleigh stepped past her perimeter of bodyguards and offered the Turk a friendly smile. “The pleasure is mine. I feel much safer knowing that the Turks are here.”

One of the infantryman had removed his helmet and was eying the Turk quizzically. If the Turk didn't know better, he'd think the blond-haired infantryman almost looked insulted by his arrival. Shifting his attention back to the doctor, he waved her forward.

“Well, let’s get going.”

- -

About a hundred feet up the platform, two men conversed in the darkness of a burned-out streetlamp. They watched the gathering of Shinra employees with great interest, listening intently. After studying the group, one man turned to the other, speaking in a hushed tone.

“It’s her! That woman’s our target.”

The second man studied the situation. “Four guards…” he observed with a growing grin. “That’s pretty poor security.”

“Should we handle this by ourselves?” the first man asked his companion.

The second man nodded. “Yeah. If that’s all there is, there’s no need to wait for the other units. Besides, it’ll be trouble if she gets away.”

In unison, the two men stepped out from the shadows and strode quickly down the platform towards their target.

- -

Dr. Rayleigh's face grew pale, and she stifled a cry of alarm as she looked past the Turk. One look at the woman's face and the Turk knew trouble was brewing. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw the two men in khaki fatigues making their way hastily towards them. In a flash, he had his weapon ready in one hand and held the other one out to shield Dr. Rayleigh as he turned to face them.

“No need to worry, Dr. Rayleigh,” he told the scientist in a reassuring tone, trying to keep her calm as the men approached them. “They won’t lay a finger on you as long as I’m here.”

The men slowed their march and came to a halt a few feet away. For a moment, no one spoke. Alvis eyed them warily, and could feel the pulse quicken in his neck. He tightened his grip on his rod. At first, neither of the men seemed to move a muscle. Their eyes roved slowly over the group of Shinra employees, as though calculating their next move. Finally, one drew a handgun from a holster secured to his hip, waving it with emphasis as he began to bark orders.

“Hand over the woman, or die,” he growled.

“Like I'm going to let you!”

The Turk nearly flinched as he was startled by the shout from behind him. He refused to take his eyes off the intruders, but listened as the footsteps of one of the infantrymen came up from behind to join him in forming a barricade between the doctor and AVALANCHE. With a quick sideways glance, the Turk saw that it was the infantryman that had removed his helmet.

Without giving him a second glance, the Turk began ordering him, “I'll take care of this. Get the doctor to a safe place.”

“No,” the young man refused, insisting, “We're here to protect the doctor, too.”

“Cloud!” one of his comrades called to him from behind, but the infantryman ignored him.

Alvis evaluated the situation apprehensively as the other AVALANCHE fighter drew his weapon. There was no time to argue with the stubborn infantryman. He readied his weapon and prepared to engage the enemy.

“Fine,” he told his unwanted companion, then warned him, “You’d better not slow me down.”

Before the last of the words had left his mouth, he was lunging at the nearest opponent. He heard gunfire erupt at his side as the infantryman exchanged rounds with their attackers. The man directly in front of him raised his weapon and fired a shot. A bullet whizzed past his face, narrowly missing grazing his left ear. Before the man could get off another round, the Turk's rod made contact with his neck, sending a debilitating electric shock through the man's nervous system that rendered him unconscious on the boarding platform. Before he had even hit the ground, the Turk turned his attention to the second attacker. He heard the man let out a cry of alarm as a bullet hit him in the arm. In desperation, the man fired off two more rounds at the infantryman, before swinging his weapon at the Turk. With speed and dexterity, the Turk ducked under the blow and came up with his rod under the man's chin, sending him tumbling to the ground a few feet away.

Alvis lowered his weapon and turned back to the infantryman. His assistance had been sub-par and as equally unnecessary. He offered the man no thanks and moved to step past him, expecting him to follow. Instead the infantryman seemed frozen in place. Alvis turned back and saw him staring at the dead men on the boarding platform. He took a step back towards him and cast a quick glance over the man from head to toe, checking to see if he had been shot. As he studied the shocked infantryman's face, he found the source of his unease. He was not looking at the face of a man, but of a boy, not more than fourteen or fifteen years old.

“Hey,” the Turk said, trying to get his attention back to the matter at hand.

The infantryman jerked his attention back to the Turk. His blue eyes shimmered with a timidity that contradicted the bravado he had shown just seconds before the firefight started, but in a flash they were again masked by a sudden defensiveness.

The Turk softened his tone. “Cloud, you’re trying too hard to show off. Your devotion to your comrades is admirable. But we’re working together now. Let me do my job, and you do yours.”

Cloud raised his chin and gave a curt nod, but said nothing as he looked past the Turk towards his fellow infantrymen guarding Dr. Rayleigh.

The Turk slapped him on the shoulder and told him, “Get your act together and let’s go.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he could hear the young infantryman mumble as he turned his back to him.

When they rejoined the doctor and her remaining guards, the Turk directed Cloud and the other infantrymen to lead the procession while he covered the rear. He soon heard footsteps echoing on the platform behind them and urged the others to move faster. When the footsteps were nearly behind them, he heard a shout.

“Hey! That’s Rayleigh! After her!”

Alvis stopped to engage their pursuers, trusting the infantrymen to continue on with the Shinra scientist and the precious data she carried. Three AVALANCHE troops caught up with the stalled Turk and slowly encircled him. While they occupied the him, two more troops hurried past, continuing the pursuit of the classified data. Alarmed by the turn of events, the Turk quickly laid out the enemy troops around him and took off after the others. Up ahead, he heard Dr. Rayleigh scream.

- -

“Stop!” Cloud ordered the two men flanking him and his comrades. He raised his rifle to show he meant business. The other infantrymen did the same.

The enemy troops had their own weapons drawn as well. One of the men locked eyes with Cloud and offered the kid a lopsided smile, daring him to pull the trigger. In the split second that Cloud hesitated, the man fired his weapon. The shot went wide, but still clipped Cloud's shoulder with enough force to spin him around and knock him to the ground. When one of Cloud's comrades rushed forward, the other AVALANCHE soldier lunged in, disarming him and laying him out with a couple of well-placed punches.

Seeing the attack on his comrade, Cloud ignored the pain in his shoulder and reached for his fallen weapon. With adrenaline fueling him on, he managed to push himself to his knees and raise the rifle to his uninjured shoulder

“Leave them alone!” he shouted a warning as he targeted the man standing over his comrade.

- -

The loud cracking of a discharging rifle echoed through the air as the Turk hurried towards his charges. Ahead, he could see an AVALANCHE soldier collapse with a bullet in his chest. As he watched the scene unfold, he saw Cloud climb awkwardly to his feet and then help one of the other infantrymen stand up as well. He patted the man on the back and gestured forward down the platform. By now the Turk was close enough to hear Cloud give orders to the others.

“I’ll hold them off. You take Dr. Rayleigh and get away.”

The other man checked his weapon as Cloud spoke. “All right,” he agreed with a nod. “Take care.” Then he turned to the frightened doctor and beckoned her to follow as they took off once more towards the platform exit.

“Cloud!” the Turk greeted him as he came nearer. Pleased to see the young infantryman holding his own, he was about to commend him, but was interrupted by the teenager.

“You. Go. Hurry!” he ordered the Turk as he chambered another round in his rifle. “Dr. Rayleigh's gone ahead.”

Slightly taken aback by the boy's sudden change in demeanor, the Turk checked himself. “Don’t make me laugh! I'm not leaving you here!”

The sound of quickly approaching footsteps drew their attention back up the platform. Two more men in fatigues were headed their way. One of the men drew his gun and began shooting. Cloud pushed past the Turk and returned fire.

What's gotten into him? the Turk wondered. The teenager had gone from gun-shy to trigger-happy. And neither condition was ideal in the heat of conflict. The Turk spun around and ran after him. By the time he reached him, Cloud had already dispatched both troops. As Cloud lowered his weapon, a third man emerged from the shadow of the train, poised to fire on the infantryman. Alvis drew his own pistol and shot the man dead, just as he pulled the trigger. The enemy's shot went high, ricocheting off of the streetlight above Cloud's head. Cloud ducked and whirled towards the source of the gunshot, rifle raised, ready to fire.

Moving quickly, the Turk stepped out of his line of fire. Grabbing the end of the rifle, he pointed it towards the ground.

“Cloud, cut it out!” he shouted a little too loud. The young infantryman's eyes shot up to meet the Turk's. Alvis searched the lad's face and saw a familiar fear lingering behind the glare in his eyes. Softening his tone, he said, “Cloud, I understand how you feel.”

Cloud diverted his gaze and said nothing as he relaxed his stance and lowered the weapon to his side.

“Do you think you can guard the other guards?” the Turk pressed. “Even I can’t be expected to give that kind of backup. But what's important is to protect the doctor. There are times when I get torn between what I want to do and what I have to do, too.”

Finally, Cloud blinked. His jaw moved as though he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words he was looking for. “I… just….”

A terrified scream cut him short.

- -

“Who's there?!” the last remaining infantryman shouted into the early morning shadows surrounding the boarding platform. His companion had just collapsed at his side. The reason was unapparent.

Three more enemy troops emerged from around the front of the train and slowly approached the shaken guard and the frightened woman in his care. Two of the men wore the typical khaki uniforms, but the third was clad in unusual black fatigues and carrying a sword sheathed at his side. The two men in khaki spread out to flank the doctor on either side as the one in black strode quietly and confidently towards them. His rubber soled boots thudded softly on the cobblestone platform. Stopping a short distance from the guard, the man raised a hand towards him. A dark cloud engulfed the infantryman who then fell to the ground without so much as a cry of alarm. With a menacing smile, the man stepped casually over the dead bodyguard and approached the terrified scientist. Dr. Rayleigh backed away from the man, holding a hand to her mouth to keep herself from crying out. Behind her glasses, her eyes were brimming with tears. She was terrified.

- -

Cloud and the Turk raced towards Dr. Rayleigh as they watched the scene unfold ahead of them. When the second guard collapsed in the shroud of dark fog, Alvis grabbed Cloud's arm and pulled him to a halt. The infantryman stopped unwillingly and turned to face the Turk, who was mumbling, “What kind of evil magic was that?”

Cloud looked back at his fallen comrades and turned to rush to their aid. The Turk again took him by the arm, jerking him back.

“Cloud, hold it!” he ordered sternly.

He studied the situation carefully. Something about the man in black made him very uneasy. He wasn't about to rush into anything without a plan. But the teenage infantryman lacked the patience of the Turk. Pulling free of the man's grasp and ignoring his orders, Cloud rushed forward.

- -

The man in black stopped a short distance away from the woman as his comrades moved in to flank her on either side. He leveled his gaze directly at her and, holding out his hand, asked, “Doctor Rayleigh, I presume?”

“S-Stop,” she begged, holding her arms out before her as though to protect herself from him. “Don’t kill me.”

The man lowered his hand and chuckled quietly to himself, pleased by her fear. “We won’t kill you as long as you do as we say,” he assured her, then ordered his men, “Take her away.”

“Yes, sir.”

The two men moved closer to Dr. Rayleigh, and took up position on either side of her. Each took a firm grip on her arms and held her securely between them. A soft whimper escaped her lips as they began to drag her towards the train.

“Let her go!”

The Turk watched as Cloud raised his rifle and pointed it towards the men apprehending Dr. Rayleigh.

The man in black stepped towards Cloud appearing unconcerned by his presence. “Don’t move,” he warned him. “If you do, she dies.”

The Turk could hear Cloud growl in frustration as he lowered his weapon and watched the men continue to escort the doctor towards the train. Alvis lifted a hand to the small earpiece nestled in his ear and put in a panicked call to Veld.

“What’s your status?” the Chief answered.

The Turk quickly relayed the gist of the situation, “Dr. Rayleigh has been captured. The escorts have been killed by an AVALANCHE member in black, wielding some kind of magic I've never seen before.”

“What?” Veld's voice came over the microphone as an even mix of anger and disbelief. “You know what’s at stake here. Retrieve the SOLDIER data,” he ordered, then added with emphasis, “No matter what.”

The Turk shook his head in frustration. “The situation prevents me from taking action,” he explained. “If I move, the doctor's life is in danger.”

Veld was silent for a moment as he evaluated the scenario that had just been given to him. Finally, he ordered, “Move. Even if there are causalities, we have to keep that disk safe!”

“…Understood.” Alvis hesitated as he processed what his commander wanted him to do, but realized he had no choice other than to move in before it was too late.

He withdrew his pistol from its holster inside his jacket and checked the chamber as he sprinted past Cloud. Placing himself between the doctor and the man in black, he raised his weapon and aimed it steadily towards one of the men holding Dr. Rayleigh.

“Let Dr. Rayliegh go!” he ordered her as he readied to fire.

His aim was confident, and he knew he could drop both men before either had a chance to endanger the doctor further. Before he could pull the trigger, there was a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. Suddenly Cloud filled the space at the end of his pistol muzzle.

“Hey! What do you think you're doing?” Cloud was shouting at him, slapping at the Turk's gun that was now aimed at his chest.

The man in black watched with great enjoyment at the infantryman's desperation as he threw himself into the Turk's line of fire. “It looks like what happens to this woman doesn’t matter to you,” he taunted the Turk, his voice filled with amusement.

“That’s not true!” Cloud exclaimed, turning to face the man. “Let the doctor be!”

“Cloud, move! Get out of the way!” the Turk shouted over him.

“I can’t do that!” Cloud shouted back. “If we make one wrong move, Dr. Rayleigh’s life will be in danger!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” the Turk said as he tried to reposition his aim around Cloud. “Move!” he ordered.

Cloud remained fixed between the Turk and the men securing the doctor. “I’m here to protect Dr. Rayleigh!”

The Turk watched over Cloud's shoulder as the AVALANCHE operatives dragged the doctor through an open door on the train. She let out a muffled cry as the door slid shut behind them. Cloud whirled around at the sound of her cry.

“Dr. Rayleigh!” he called.

The train's engine roared to life. The Turk heard Cloud mutter a curse under his breath as the train began to move forward along the rails. A plume of exhaust shot out from under the locomotive as it started gaining speed. Without warning, Cloud plunged into fog.

“Cloud!” Alvis reached for him as he disappeared from sight into the exhaust.

Suddenly Cloud reappeared clinging to a metal ladder on the side of the surging train. The Turk held his breath as he watched the infantryman make his way to an open window and pull himself inside. The man in black watched him too.

“A kid, huh… He won’t be a problem,” he said calmly, drawing his sword and turning to face the Turk. “You’re a different story, though.”

Alvis activated his rod and turned to face the man in black. “Come on then!” he challenged him.

His opponent smirked as he brandished his sword and lunged in. He was fast. Really fast. Faster than Alvis could have imagined. The Turk was quickly and unexpectedly forced on the defensive. He kept his rod in constant motion, parrying the man's katana blow after blow. With each successive strike, he was sure the rod would be knocked from his hands. He had to change the pattern of the battle. Before the next strike connected with his rod, Alvis threw himself to the ground. Kicking out with his feet, he swept the man's legs out from under him. As he crashed backwards onto the pavement, Alvis rolled over on top of him, pinning his sword hand to the ground. Sitting on the man's stomach, he crashed the butt of his rod into his temple. The man went limp. The Turk gave him a jolt of his EMR as well for good measure before pushing off him and standing over his still form.

 

Chapter 22: 5: The Dreams of a Nameless Soldier, Part 2

The AVALANCHE trooper laid unmoving on the platform as the end of the train pulled past and left the station. The Turk sprinted onto the tracks after it, but the locomotive had gained too much speed and was soon too far out of reach. Alvis slowed his sprint to a walk and paced back and forth along the tracks. With arms crossed over his head, he worked to get his heavy breathing back under control as he tried to formulate his next move. Removing his phone from his pocket, he called Veld.

“Is the data safe?” the Chief answered.

“Not yet,” the Turk said, releasing a heavy breath. “They got away on the train.”

“What?” Veld nearly screamed into the phone. “This is bad! Follow them!”

“Go after the train?” the Turk asked, turning back down the tracks. The train was no longer in sight.

“There's a way,” Veld told him, speaking quickly. “There are service tunnels under Midgar. The central complex? Where the tracks connect the Plate and the slums?”

“Yeah, I know of them,” the Turk said, catching on to the plan. “They circle around the entire city.”

“Exactly. Use the passages running through the complex to catch up with the train. There should be multiple points that intersect that train's path. You ought to be able to intercept it at one of those points.”

Alvis was already headed for the tunnel entrance at the back of the train station when Veld finished detailing the plan.

“Understood,” he said and disconnected the call as he raced down the steps leading to the underground tunnels.

Quickly recalling the direction of the train, he turned left and headed south through the tunnels. The walls and floor of the tunnel began to tremor slightly as he neared the steps leading back up to street level. When he emerged from the tunnel, the train was already rolling by. Without slowing down, he sprinted towards the speeding train and made a mad leap. One hand managed to find a hold on the metal rail encircling the end of one of the carriages. Taking hold with his other hand, he pulled himself over the railing and set foot on the balcony outside the train car.

Without taking the time to catch his breath, the Turk checked the door to the carriage and, finding it unlocked, entered the cabin. Inside, the roar of the train was not nearly so loud and the sound of the wind rushing by did not fill his ears. A row of large windows on either side of the carriage offered a constant stream of images of the city streaking by outside. The cabin itself was completely empty. A polished wood floor stretched the entire length of the hollow space. The doors at both ends of the car were marked with dim red exit lights. He quickly crossed the empty car to the opposite door.

Shouldering his way through the door, he leaped over the connection coupling and burst into the next car. This cabin was filled with rows of seats, but fortunately no passengers were aboard at the early hour. A central aisle ran the length of the cabin; and at the end of the aisle, two men in khaki AVALANCHE fatigues stood guard with assault rifles ready. At the Turk's dramatic entrance, one of the men shouted an alarm and released a volley of bullets in his direction. Alvis dropped to the ground behind a row of seats. The bullets followed him and soon blasted through the seat in front of him.

Alvis covered his head as bits of blue leather and cushion stuffing filled the air around him. The seats did little to stop the bullets flying towards him. At the first lull in the gunfire, he ducked back out the door and threw himself up against the side of the car, safely out of the line of fire for now. A few more shots ricocheted off the metal doorframe as he looked around for a means of escape. On the other side of the door, a metal ladder led to the roof of the train car. He quickly darted across the open doorway, setting off a new eruption of gunfire. Swinging onto the steel rungs, he scurried up them and crawled onto the roof.

Once again buffeted by the wind created by the speeding train, he had to crouch to maintain his balance as he stealthily made his way across the roof of the car, careful not to alert the men inside to his whereabouts as he passed over them. When he reached the front of the car, he peered cautiously over the edge. The balcony below was empty. He hastily made his way down the ladder while the coast was clear and crept over to the closed door. A quick peek through the window, showed the two men had exited the back of the car looking for their escaped target.

Keeping low in case the men should turn back in his direction, the Turk made his way across the coupling to the next carriage. He entered more cautiously than he had the last time, cracking the door quietly before peeking inside. This car was arranged like the first one. He pushed the door open further and stepped inside. At the center of the car, Dr. Rayleigh was surrounded by three men in AVALANCHE uniforms. Cloud was on his knees next to one of the men. The Turk could hear him groan as he tried to get up.

“Let Dr. Rayleigh go…” the young infantryman ordered the man staring down at him.

The man laughed an unfriendly chuckle. “Stubborn brat. Seems like you really do want to die.”

He slammed a clenched fist into the side of Cloud's face, and the young boy crumbled to the floor of the car. Dr. Rayleigh whimpered as she stood helplessly between two of her captors.

“Stop!” the Turk shouted as he rushed towards the scene. “That’s as far as you go!”

The man that had slugged Cloud, whirled around. “Who’s there?” he shouted.

The Turk glanced over at the scientist he had come to protect. “Are you all right, Dr. Rayleigh?” he asked.

She barely nodded. “I'm fine,” she said quietly, then turned her gaze back to the motionless infantryman on the floor, “but…”

“Don’t move,” the AVALANCHE trooper ordered sternly. “Or this punk’s as good as dead.”

Before the man could finish his threat, the Turk drew his handgun and shot the man standing nearest to the captured scientist.

“Run, Doctor,” the Turk ordered, as he turned his attention to the other troopers.

He had time to put a bullet in one of the two remaining soldiers before the second man rushed him. Ducking the punch thrown at him, he drove his shoulder forward into the man's stomach, toppling him to the ground. With his pistol still in hand, he whipped it across the man's face, knocking him out cold.Vaulting to his feet once again, Alvis turned a quick circle surveying the train. Cloud was pushing himself up as the Turk hurried over to him.

“Cloud, can you stand?” he asked, offering him a hand.

Ignoring the offer, Cloud looked up at the Turk and asked huskily, “What are you here for?”

The Turk stared down at him, unsure what he was expected to say.

Cloud continued, “Did you come to put the doctor in danger again?”

Withdrawing his hand, the Turk turned away from the testy infantryman. “The data the doctor has is important to the company,” he explained matter-of-factly. “If AVALANCHE gets a hold of it, there’s no telling what will happen.”

“So you’re willing to throw away her life to protect it,” Cloud said accusingly, pushing himself to his feet.

Spinning around, the Turk angrily pointed a finger in Cloud's face. “I’m not throwing anybody’s life away!” he nearly shouted.

“You’ve put her in unnecessary danger,” Cloud countered calmly. “That’s the same thing.”

The Turk grasped for words, “…That's–”

“There’s got to be a way to protect the doctor,” Cloud insisted as he looked about the train for a way to safely get off.

A series of three chimes sounded from the Turk's jacket. Turning away from Cloud, he activated the intercom on his earpiece.

“What’s your status?” It was Verdot.

“I've found Dr. Rayleigh,” he answered, casting a quick glance in her direction.

“Well done.” The Chief sounded relieved. “Is the data safe?”

The Turk nodded. “Both the data and the doctor are safe.”

“Good. Take the data and get out of there.”

The Turk hesitated. “Alone?” he asked quietly, looking over his shoulder at Cloud.

“More of those troops in black are headed your way,” Veld explained, his voice growing tense. “They’re under Fuhito’s direct command, but that’s all we know about them right now. Confronting them is too much of a risk. We don’t know enough about them to deal with them just yet, so I want you go get that data and get out of there.” When the Turk didn't respond, Verdot raised his voice. “Hey! Can you hear me?”

The Turk looked from Dr. Rayleigh to Cloud and back again. He turned towards the doctor and started towards her.

The sound of shattered glass erupted at the back of the cabin as the backdoor burst open and crashed against the wall. The Turk whirled around to face the intrusion as three AVALANCHE troops all in black clothing poured into the room. He threw out an arm to shield Dr. Rayleigh and directed her towards the front of the cabin. In the commotion, he had nearly forgotten that Veld was on the line.

“–Respond!” he heard shouted in his ear.

“Sir, I’ve got some bad news. Those new AVALANCHE troops you mentioned – they're here.”

“What!? Get out of there at once!” Veld ordered.

The Turk looked again at the frightened doctor and wounded infantryman, and knew he couldn't do that.

“…I’m sorry, Chief.” he said quietly, then raised his voice to shout, “You’re breaking up. I’m going to have to hang up…” Then did just that.

Turning quickly to the infantryman, he asked, “Hey, Cloud! Can you run?”

“Huh!?” Cloud dared to take his eyes off of the quickly approaching enemy troops and looked at the Turk for more instruction.

“Get to the next train car now!” he directed with a wave of his hand. “Go! Hurry!”

With a quick nod, Cloud sprinted towards the front of the car. Taking Dr. Rayleigh by the hand, he pulled her towards the door after him. He could hear the Turk on their heels as he shouldered the door open and they stumbled out onto the balcony. Together, Cloud and Dr. Rayleigh leaped across the space separating the two train cars. Opening the next door, Cloud pushed the doctor inside and turned back to look for his comrade. The Turk hadn't yet made the jump to the next car. Cloud reached out for him, but the Turk had come to a complete halt at the coupling connecting the two cars.

Looking across the space separating the carriages, the Turk locked eyes with Cloud and shouted, “My job is to protect the Shinra company's secrets. It doesn't matter how I do it.” Then he pulled the handgun from the holster inside his jacket, pointed it at the space between them, and pulled the trigger.

Jerking back, Cloud lifted an arm to shield his face as the bullets sent sparks flying from the coupling holding the train cars together. One more shot and the coupling shattered and fell to the tracks racing by below. Soon, the two cars began drifting apart.

“What are you doing!?” Cloud shouted as the space between him and the Turk widened.

“I told you, didn’t I?” the Turk called back. “My job is to protect the company’s interests. Cloud, I’m leaving Dr. Rayleigh to you. That’s your job.”

The distance between the cars was now too great for anyone to consider jumping.

“I will!” Cloud promised as the train pulled safely away.

Behind him, Alvis heard the enemy approaching.

“You bitch!” one of the AVALANCHE troops shouted threateningly after them.

Moving quickly, the Turk slammed the cabin door shut and leaped onto the ladder at the edge of the balcony. In seconds, he was on the roof. Despite being uncoupled, the car was still moving at an incredibly high rate of speed. He heard the door burst open below. Casting stealth aside, he sprinted across the roof as he heard troopers mount the ladder behind him. Ahead, he saw two more men climb onto the roof. Activating his EMR, he continued forward, rushing towards the nearest man. With one well-placed swing, he knocked the man off balance and sent him tumbling off of the train. However, he was soon replaced by another trooper. Two more AVALANCHE fighters caught up behind him. Flanked, the Turk peered over the edge of the train, considering whether he could make the jump. Suddenly, the car jerked back beneath his feet.

“What's going on!” one of the men shouted.

Two of the AVALANCHE fighters were thrown to their knees. The Turk staggered closer to the edge of the roof as the train rattled to a complete stop. Taking advantage of the unexpected opportunity, he leaped over the edge and landed in a crouched position on the tracks below. Without waiting to see if he would be followed, he turned and sprinted down the tracks, following the train carrying Cloud and Dr. Rayleigh away.

- -

A man in black emerged from a cloud of concrete dust as he backed away from a gaping hole in the roof of the train tunnel. A large pile of debris covered the tracks in front of him. He smiled as he patted the dust of off his clothing and pulled away the scarf covering his nose and mouth. As the bright lights of the approaching train came around a bend in the tracks, the man backed away from his handiwork and disappeared into the darkness further up the tunnel.

- -

Cloud stood nearby as Dr. Rayleigh watched out the window. Several minutes had passed since the Turk had left their company and no more AVALANCHE fighters had appeared in their part of the train. It seemed that they were safe for the moment. Cloud leaned against the wall of the car, nursing his injured shoulder. Now that things had slowed down, the earlier scuffles were starting to catch up with him. Dr. Rayleigh appeared to be no worse for wear. Cloud watched her as she faced the window. She was visibly shaken by the ordeal, but she would be all right.

Without warning and a sudden lurch, the train came to an inglorious halt, nearly throwing Cloud and the doctor to the floor. Rayleigh screamed as she grabbed hold of the window for support. Cloud staggered forward, fumbling to get his weapon at the ready as the cabin lights flickered overhead.

“Cloud, behind you!” Dr. Rayleigh warned.

Cloud spun around towards the back of the cabin and raised his rifle. The cabin's back door stood open, and a man dressed in black had entered.

“Better watch your back,” the man warned Cloud mockingly.

Then, before Cloud could get off a shot, the man drew his sword and covered the distance between them with impossible speed. With an upward swing, his blade sliced the barrel off of Cloud's rifle and swiftly followed that attack with a hook punch that sent him to the floor.

“I’ll be taking Rayleigh,” the man announced as he stood over Cloud.

Cloud glared up at the man gloating over him. A gunshot exploded through the cabin. The infantryman flinched, throwing an arm up to cover his face as a bullet ripped through the man's chest above him. Scrambling to the side, Cloud watched as the man fell to the floor next him, a small pool of blood seeping through his fatigues. Behind him, the Turk stood in the doorway, holstering his pistol.

“You’re safe…” Cloud welcomed him back, surprised to see him again so soon.

“Of course. Don’t take me for an idiot,” Alvis scoffed and offered the infantryman a hand up. “Come on, you’re not allowed to let your guard down yet. I’m going to go check outside.”

“I’ll go with you,” Cloud said as the Turk helped him up.

“No,” the Turk ordered sternly. “Not in your current condition. Just stay here with the doctor.”

He clapped Cloud hard on the back, nodded to the doctor, and left the stalled train car. Dr. Rayleigh turned once again to look out the window. She stepped back with a gasp as a group of AVALANCHE fighters ran past.

“This is bad!” she shouted over her shoulder to Cloud. “There are so many…”

Cloud didn't stick around to hear the rest.

Outside, the Turk was confronted by four AVALANCHE fighters, two of which were dressed in black. Behind him, he heard footsteps approaching quickly.

“I'm fighting with you!”

Without looking back, the Turk replied, “Just stay back, Cloud!”

At the same time, one of the black-clad troopers, presumably their leader, ordered his men, “Kill them.”

Two of his men rushed forward with swords drawn. The Turk activated his EMR, ready to fight.

“Raaah!” Cloud rushed past him with his own infantry sword drawn.

“Cloud!”

The Turk watched as Cloud sprinted past him in a blur, swinging a wide arc with his standard-issue blade and cutting down both troopers with one slash. Cloud then immediately collapsed to one knee, his breathing labored, the last of his strength spent. The two remaining troopers hesitated as their comrades fell beneath the infantryman's blade. The Turk drew his pistol and fired two rounds, killing the two enemy fighters. He then turned to Cloud and rushed to his side. The teenager was on his knees and looked ready to pass out.

“It’s over…” he panted.

The Turk pulled one of Cloud's arms over his shoulders and lifted the kid to his feet. “Cloud, that was great. You were a real lifesaver.”

“I was desperate,” Cloud confided. “I can’t even remember what happened.”

The Turk steered Cloud towards the train. “Let’s just get back on the train for now,” he directed.

He helped Cloud climb up the metal rungs onto the back balcony of the carriage. The door was still ajar. Pushing it open, he guided Cloud inside. Cloud took hold of the doorway for support and waved the Turk off. As they entered the cabin, he called to Dr. Rayleigh. When she didn't answer, Cloud pushed past him, staggering towards the middle of the cabin. The overhead lights flickered on and off, casting the room in a dim light.

“Hey!” he alerted the Turk. “That AVALANCHE guy you shot – he isn't here anymore.”

The Turk stepped past him to observe the scene. “Dr. Rayleigh too… what's that?”

At the far end of the cabin, Dr. Rayleigh was laying unmoving on the wooden floor. They spotted her at the same time and rushed forward. The Turk reached her still form first. Dropping to his knees at her side, he took hold of her shoulder and gently turned her over.

“Dr. Rayleigh!” he shouted, giving her shoulder a gentle shake.

Her eyes blinked open and searched the ceiling. They finally settled on the Turk leaning over her. She closed them again as she moaned and lifted a hand to her face.

“…There’s no way he should have been able to…” she mumbled. “But that enemy soldier got up again.”

The Turk glanced back to the puddle of blood where the fallen fighter should have been. It was then that he noticed a trail of bloody boot prints crossing the cabin. “That’s impossible…” he murmured.

“The disk… He… He took it,” she said.

The announcement jerked his attention back to the doctor in his arms, “What did you say?”

The doctor sat up and looked at the Turk. “There’s no need to worry,” she assured him. “The disk has a fingerprint lock which only I can release. It–”

She was interrupted by a crackle of static coming from the train's intercom.

“The track has been cleared,” a robotic voice announced. “The train will soon resume operation.”

- -

In the shadows of a narrow service corridor, two men in black military uniforms watched the train slowly pull away with Dr. Rayleigh. They were soon joined by a third.

“You’re late. Did they get you too?”

The newcomer nodded, rubbing away an ache in his chest. “Still, I got my hands on the disk.”

He held up the coveted computer disk for the other two to see. The men smiled.

“Things are going according to plan.”

- -

The Midgar passenger train rolled to a gently coasting stop at the next boarding platform. The Turk wasted no time escorting Dr. Rayleigh and Cloud off the train. To his relief, another squad of infantrymen were awaiting them at the boarding platform.

“You did well today, Cloud,” he said, giving the young infantryman a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Keep up the good work.”

Cloud opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by three chimes of the Turk's pager.

The Turk turned away to take the call. “Chief…Yes…Yes…Understood.” He looked back at Cloud. “I’ve got to get back to Headquarters.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m due for my next assignment too,” Cloud said, sounding weary. “Something to do with a faulty mako reactor.”

“Well then,” the Turk said, offering him a handshake. “Take care.”

Cloud nodded. “Maybe I'll see you around.”

* * *

Elfe found Fuhito at his desk, his face aglow in the light of a flickering computer monitor. He glanced up at her as she came in. He looked pleased.

“Elfe, I have finished analyzing the disk’s contents,” he said, his voice filled with accomplishment. “Bypassing the lock was quite the task, I must say.”

Elfe smiled. “You’re talking about Dr. Rayleigh’s disk, I assume. And?”

“As expected, all the SOLDIER data we wanted is in there.”

Elfe crossed the room to join Fuhito as his computer screen. “Excellent. Will we be able to utilize this information in with Shears’ measures?”

“Of course,” Fuhito said with a chuckle. “But there is something I wish to ascertain first.”

She looked down at the scientist. “And that is?” she asked.

The man turned serious once again. “It requires Professor Hojo.”

She recognized the name. Anyone would. “The head of Shinra’s Science Department?”

“Yes,” he paused for a moment, then added, “and he is the man in Shinra who knows the most about Sephiroth.”

Elfe considered his next requirement, then nodded obediently. “All right,” she said, turning to leave. “I’ll begin preparations immediately.”

Fuhito smiled. “Splendid.”

Chapter 23: 6: This Night in an Untainted World, part 1

Notes:

NOTES: From here, I start switching up the Player Turk a little bit. For chapter 6, I used Cissnei (shuriken) as I felt she would have the kind of camaraderie with Reno and Rude that we see in this chapter.

[12 December 0001]

[Midgar Sector 8, 22:00]

Reno, Rude, and Cissnei met up outside Shinra Headquarters in Sector 8. The sun had set hours ago, but the Turks’ day was just now ending. A full moon and multitudes of stars twinkled high in the sky above Midgar, a rare sight that was usually occluded by mako smog.

“I've had enough excitement for one day,” Reno announced, putting a hand on the small of his back as he stretched. “Time to call it a night. Rude, you ready to turn in?”

Rude polished away a smudge on his dark shades and returned them to his face, despite the late hour. “Sorry, you two go ahead,” he said glancing down a side street. “There’s something I’ve got to do.”

“Really…” Reno drew the word out to show his curiosity. When Rude offered no further explanation, he conceded. “Well, see you tomorrow then.”

Cissnei offered him a short wave. “Good night.”

“Yeah,” Rude said, sounding distracted. “See you.”

Rude turned and walked away without a backwards glance. His gait was stiff, and his shoulders more squared than usual. Reno watched until he disappeared around a corner farther down the street. Without taking his eyes off the spot where he had last seen his comrade, he told Cissnei, “It’s weird, you know.”

Cissnei had already turned back towards headquarters and had her ID card ready to scan to gain access inside.

“Huh?” she said looking back, surprised to still see Reno standing out in the middle of the street. “What is?” she asked.

“Rude,” he said, turning to face her. “He’s been taking off like that for a while now.”

Cissnei lowered her hand from the scanner and thought about it. “Yeah. Now that you mention it, you’re right.”

A smile suddenly lit Reno's face as he looked back down the street. “We’ve got to check this out,” he told her.

“Reno…” she dragged his name out, sounding as tired as she felt. “You’re more excited about this than work, aren’t you?”

“Cissnei,” he said, trying to sound serious like the Chief. “I’ve got a job for you.”

“Reno?!” she spun around to look at him incredulously.

“Follow Rude and find out where he’s going,” Reno ordered as he turned around and strode back towards HQ.

Cissnei watched him come closer. “You’re kidding, right?”

He stopped next to her just long enough to flash his badge and open the door. “I’m counting on you,” he called back over his shoulder as he headed in for the night.

With a heavy sigh, Cissnei stepped back and let the door close.

“All right,” she shouted at the door, knowing Reno wouldn't be able to hear her anyway. Even as she backed away from the door, she couldn’t help but wonder why she was allowing him to order her around.

Let's get this over with, she thought as she turned and jogged down the street to the corner Rude had disappeared around. As expected, he was already out of sight. With no other obvious course of action, she headed down the side street. No other alleys branched off from it, making this part of his path easy to track. The street she was on ended at LOVELESS Avenue. From there, any number of shopfronts lined the street and several other streets branched off from it. She glanced up and down the avenue in both directions several times, but could see no sign of Rude.

Midgar's nightlife was fairly dull in this sector and the street was mostly empty. She looked both ways again. Left would lead to the theatre. Right would eventually lead to the square. On a whim, she turned right. At each shop window, she paused just long enough to peer inside. Rude was a tall man and easily distinguishable with his bald head and dark glasses. If he was there, she would be able to pick him out quickly.

At the next cross street, she slowed her pace to look down the long corridor. No streetlights lit the area between buildings. She could just make out the silhouettes of a few dumpsters and old boxes lining the narrow space. A rough looking man stood nearby, leaning against the brickwork of a liquor store. He took a cigarette out of his mouth and blew a plume of smoke in her direction.

“Looking for something, sweetheart?” he asked gruffly, eying her up and down.

“Someone, actually,” Cissnei said boldly, crossing her arms as she took a step closer. “Have you seen a bald man in a black suit and sunglasses?”

The man considered her question for a moment before telling her, “Yeah. Went by not more than two minutes ago.”

Thankful for the break, Cissnei pressed him for more details. “Can you tell me which way he went?”

“He entered the square, then went right,” he said without hesitation, in a hurry to get back to his cigarette. Then he added, “Probably heading for the West Plaza.”

“The West Plaza?” she asked. “Why do you think that?”

The man just shrugged his shoulders and went back to his smoke. Cissnei, not wishing to waste any more time, turned away and jogged the rest of the way to the square. Despite the cooler temperatures, the fountain was still running, spraying a small stream of water into the air before raining it back down into the pool below. There were more people milling about the square, but Rude was not there. Taking the man's advice, she passed right through, skirting around the fountain and heading for the West Plaza.

She knew the way. The plaza was one of her favorite places in Midgar. It was one of the few places in the sprawling city that was beautiful, especially this time of year. The plaza was bordered by manicured gardens, and at the center was a large tree with spreading branches. On it were hung strings of colorful, twinkling lights – a tradition observed around the winter holiday every year. A small group of people gathered at the base of the decorated tree. Cissnei joined them. A woman standing under the tree was telling them the story behind it.

“It’s an annual tradition to decorate this tree with lights,” she explained. “This is the twentieth year the Shinra Company has sponsored this event. The theme of this year’s display is 'Undying Love'. Each of the lights on that tree represent a person’s love for another. Somewhere on this Planet, everyone has got that special someone. The lights are also supposed to symbolize hope – hope that one day we might find them.”

As she listened to the story, Cissnei searched the park for Rude, but he did not appear to be there. A woman saw her searching and approached her. She had a basket of flowers hanging off her arm. She offered one to Cissnei.

“Are you supposed to be meeting someone?” she asked, with a knowing smile.

“Oh, no,” Cissnei said, smiling back as she accepted the flower. “But I am looking for someone. Have you seen a bald man in a black suit and sunglasses?”

The woman smiled. “Yes, I have. He bought a whole armful of flowers from me.”

“Do you know where he went?” Cissnei asked, her interest piqued.

She nodded. “He said something about a bar.”

Thanking her, Cissnei hurried out of the plaza. There were bars scattered all over Midgar, and several in Sector 8 alone. It would take all night to check them all, but she knew of one nearby. She headed for that one.

A giggling couple was coming out the door when Cissnei arrived, and she slipped inside. The bar was relatively quiet. A long, mahogany, L-shaped counter extended along one side of the establishment. A bartender, sharply dressed in a crisp white shirt and black vest, quietly polished glasses behind the counter. At the bar sat a man and a woman. She immediately recognized Rude. He had his back to the door, but his bald head and pressed black suit were unmistakable. Not wishing to be seen, Cissnei looked around for a place to hide. A potted plant stood in a corner by the door. She ducked behind it and knelt on the floor.

The woman sitting with him was quite beautiful. Soft brown hair fell in waves to her shoulders. She wore a shimmering green evening dress and held a large bouquet of red flowers in her lap. She was leaning towards Rude, smiling. Cissnei strained to listen in on their conversation.

“Thank you, Rude. My favorite flowers. You remembered.”

Rude was quiet. He seemed to be struggling for words. “…It was a coincidence. A vendor pushed them on me when I was on my way here.”

The woman set the bouquet on the bar. “Hmm? A coincidence you say… Still, I’m really happy.”

Rude was looking down at his glass. “Chelsea…”

“Rude?” The woman leaned forward and placed a delicate hand on his arm. “Are you going shy on me again?”

At that, Rude turned his head to face her. “Chelsea… Please don’t tease me like that.”

Chelsea giggled and removed her hand. “I’m sorry,” she apologized.

Cissnei suppressed a giggle herself. This was a side of Rude she had never seen before. How sweet, she thought. Just the two of them in their own little world.

 

2 hours later…

“Really?” Chelsea asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah,” Rude nodded emphatically. “It’s true. It sounds strange, but it’s true.”

“So, how has work been?” she asked, changing the subject. “Busy?”

The Turk shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”

Chelsea reached out and placed her hand over his. “Just make sure to take care of yourself,” she said pleadingly.

Rude smiled at her reassuringly. “No need to worry… But… thank you.”

Chelsea removed her hand from his and picked up her flowers. “I had fun tonight,” she said sweetly. “But I should get going now.”

“I’ll see you home,” Rude quickly volunteered.

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Chelsea said as she got up from the bar.

Rude finished off his drink and set this empty glass on the bar as he stood up. “No,” he insisted. “I want to see you home.”

Cissnei ducked down further in her hiding place as Rude and his girlfriend passed by. She watched as he opened and held the door for her and then disappeared from sight. Seeing no reason to pursue them further, she returned to headquarters.

* * *

The following evening, Cissnei returned to the Shinra Building to find Reno waiting for her alone. She had managed to avoid him all day, but now it seemed he had her trapped. He was leaning against the building next to the entrance, hands behind his head, watching her approach. He waited until she was close enough to talk to.

“So, Cissnei?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

“Is it about the 'job'?” she asked, as she tried to get past him to go inside, but Reno was leaning against the scanner.

He crossed him arms and refused to budge. “Give me a full report.”

She nudged him in the ribs and tried to push him aside. When she was unsuccessful, she stepped back with hands on her hips. “I decided to not pursue the matter any further,” she reported.

“What’s up with that?” Reno teased. “You call yourself a Turk, but botch a mission?”

“It’s wrong to meddle in Rude’s love life,” Cissnei blurted.

Reno’s eyes shot open wide. “What!?” he exclaimed. “That’s news to me.”

He finally stepped away from the scanner. Cissnei moved towards the door, shaking her head, but Reno stopped her, saying, “All right, we’re going to get over there right now!”

“No, Reno!” she scolded, spinning around to face him.

Undaunted, Reno started walking down the street. “Fine, I'll go alone then.”

“Wait!” Cissnei yelled. She started after him when her pager ringed. Reno stopped long enough to hear her answer it.

“Yes, Chief,” he heard her say. With a victorious smile and a wave goodbye, Reno bid her farewell as he headed up the street.

Cissnei made a fist and shook it at Reno's back as she listened to Verdot's instructions.

“There have been reports of a massive monster outbreak in Sector 8,” he informed her. “You’re the closest to the scene. Get over there and eliminate them.”

“Understood,” she answered without hesitation.

She watched Reno disappear around the corner and shook her head. He better not disturb those two, she thought as she turned towards Sector 8.

Chapter 24: 6: This Night in an Untainted World, part 2

Reno slipped through the door of the bar just behind Rude and watched as his friend joined a lovely brunette at the counter. As Rude took a seat, Reno slid quietly into a corner booth out of their line of sight and took up a drink menu.

As he got into position, he could hear Rude apologize for being late and ask the lady, “Did you wait long?”

“No, not at all,” she replied cheerfully. “I just got here myself.”

Rude settled onto his stool before placing his hands on the bar in front of him. He then stared at them silently. Silence was not uncommon for Rude. He was naturally a man of few words, but even this silence was too quiet for him. Chelsea leaned forward, trying to see his face.

“What’s wrong, Rude?” she asked, sounding concerned. “There’s something strange about you tonight.”

The Turk was quiet for a moment longer. He laced his fingers together before untangling them again, appearing uneasy. “Chelsea…”

“Yes?”

Rude was silent again for a moment. Without looking up, he told her, “You don’t have to lie to me.”

Chelsea pulled back from him, a look of hurt and confusion on her face. “What’s this all of a sudden?” she asked.

Rude didn't answer.

“Well…” Chelsea began as she fidgeted nervously with her own hands. “Truth is, I got here half an hour ago. I just don’t seem to be able to lie to you.”

“I…” Rude seemed to be struggling for words. Finally, he did look at her. “Whatever happens… my feelings for you won’t change,” he declared.

“Rude…” She said his name quietly, her voice on the edge of quivering. Reaching over, she placed her hand over one of his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Good evening, Rude,” the barkeep said warmly, interrupting them as he made his way down the bar. “The usual?” he asked.

Rude shook his head. “No. It’s cold tonight. Give me something strong.”

The bartender smiled knowingly as he reached under the bar. “Coming right up.”

 

2 hours later…

Rude got up abruptly from the bar and started to turn away.

“Wait, Rude,” Chelsea said reaching for him. “Where are you going?”

Reno ducked down lower in the booth as Rude's eyes scanned the room looking for something. “… … …Bathroom,” he told her abruptly and headed towards the restroom signs at the back of the bar without another word.

Reno lowered his menu and leaned back in his seat as he watched the scene play out. He glanced at his watch. It was nearly midnight. He was enjoying the show, but was ready to turn in for the night. As soon as Rude was out of sight, he made ready to leave. Before getting up, he cast one more glance at the woman Rude was meeting at the bar every night. She certainly was beautiful. He could see why Rude liked her. That was good. He was happy for Rude. It was about time the big guy got himself a woman. As Reno watched her, she leaned over Rude's seat. Pushing aside his glass, she picked something up off of the bar. As she held it up, Reno saw that it was Rude's phone. She looked back towards the restrooms before flipping the device open.

Reno shifted to the edge of his seat, craning his neck to try to get a better view of her. She held the phone open in her hand, staring down at it, but did nothing more. For several more seconds she only stared at it before suddenly snapping it shut and placing it back on the counter exactly as she had found it. At the sound of the restroom door, Reno quickly slid back in his seat and held the menu up again to shield his face. As Rude returned to the bar, Reno peeked out from around the menu and watched as Rude returned the phone to his breast pocket and sat back down at the bar without a second thought.

When Chelsea didn't say anything, he looked over at her and asked, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head and looked down at the hand in her lap. “It’s nothing…” she assured him.

“Hey, Chelsea….” he reached over and gently took her hand. “Tomorrow… The tree… Let’s go see it together.”

Chelsea’s face shot up, and she searched Rude’s face.“The one at the West Plaza?” she asked as her face slowly began to light up. “Watching it together would be a lot nicer than seeing it alone…”

Rude paused and swallowed nervously. Finally, he spoke, “There’s something… I want to tell you there.”

Chelsea smiled brightly as she leaned closer to him. “I wonder what that could be?” she mused gaily. “Oh, I just can’t wait. Tell me now.”

“No,” Rude shook his head adamantly. Then he smiled. “Tomorrow.”

Still smiling, she removed her hand from his, and stood up.

Rude reached after her, his smile fading. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

Chelsea shrugged, looking down at her hands. “I should get going now…” she murmured.

“Already?” Rude sounded disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” she said sweetly, as she reached out and caressed his shoulder. “You stay here and enjoy your drink.”

Rude swallowed nervously at her touch. “All right,” he managed to get out. “Tomorrow. I’ll be waiting under the tree.”

“Of course,” she said, then leaned over to peck him on the cheek. “Well then. Tomorrow. I’m looking forward to it.”

Chelsea picked up her purse off the counter and left the bar without looking back. Rude sat on his stool, watching her go. When she was out of sight, he turned back to the bartender and ordered another drink. When his back was turned, Reno quickly slid from his seat and slipped out the door unnoticed. Out on the sidewalk, he could see Chelsea walking up the street. Halfway down the block, she turned abruptly into an alley.

That woman… Reno thought warily. What was she trying to do back there? He stole a peek through the bar window and saw Rude was still content at the counter, nursing a small glass of liquid amber. Sure that his partner would not be leaving anytime soon, Reno turned up the street and hurried to the spot he had last seen Chelsea. He peered cautiously around the corner and saw her standing at the doorway to an old warehouse. A faded yellowed light over the door cast an orange glow on her pale skin. She paused with her hand on the door handle as she looked back over her shoulder. Reno pulled back around the corner and counted to ten before poking his head back around again. She was still standing at the door. As he watched her, she lifted her chin, and her shoulders rose as she took a deep breath. Then she pushed the door open and stepped inside. He could hear the bottom of the door scraping across the floor as she slowly pushed it shut.

Reno took a moment to look up and down the street before entering the alley. No one else was out at the late hour, and Rude still hadn't emerged from the bar. On silent feet, he quickly made his way down the narrow alley and crept quietly up to the door. Cautiously, he pressed an ear up against it and listened for any indication of what was going on inside. He heard nothing. Reaching for the door handle, he saw that the latch hadn't caught. Slowly, carefully, he pushed the door open an inch, then two. When he heard no commotion inside, he continued pushing until it was open just enough for him to slip through.

Once inside, he could make out the sound of voices coming from further in. A few widely spaced light bulbs dimly lit the inside of the building. Several crates stacked floor to ceiling were arranged in crooked aisles on the main floor of the warehouse. The voices were coming from the other side of one of the walls of crates. Reno tip-toed to the first row and dared a quick glance around the corner. He saw Chelsea standing with her arms crossed. Her back was to him. Next to her were two men dressed in khaki army fatigues. No doubt the men were from AVALANCHE. He pulled back behind the crate before he could be seen and listened.

“Ah, Chelsea,” he heard one of the men welcome her. “You weren’t followed, were you?”

“Of course not,” she answered, sounding indignant. “I don’t make that kind of mistake.”

“So, did you plant the wiretap?”

“No. He kept it on him the whole time. I didn’t have a chance to do it…” She paused, then added, “But I’ll do it tomorrow, no matter what.”

“Just get it done,” the man growled, not sounding too happy.

She’s an AVALANCHE spy!? Reno nearly exclaimed. He remembered watching Chelsea pick up Rude's phone when he'd left it at the bar. Why hadn't she tapped it then when she'd had the chance? Reno shook his head as he turned to leave. He'd heard enough to know what was going on. And it wasn't good. He took back everything he’d said about her earlier. Rude, he thought, you’ve sure fallen for one troublesome woman.

 

* * *

 

The next night, Reno and Rude met up outside headquarters as usual. As Cissnei arrived, Rude was turning to leave. She saw Reno put his hands in his pockets and take a step after him.

“Rude…” He hesitated before asking, “Going to see that woman again?”

Rude stopped walking but said nothing.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Reno warned him.

Rude still didn't speak.

Reno took a deep breath. “She’s–”

“I know,” Rude shot back at him over his shoulder. “Don’t say another word.”

Reno's jaw snapped shut, slightly taken aback by his friend's confession. Still, he couldn't let him go that easy. “Rude… you knew?” he asked.

Rude reached a hand to his face and adjusted his glasses. “Sorry,” he finally said. “But I know what I’m doing.”

Cissnei watched him leave, before approaching Reno. The redhead ignored her as he watched Rude disappear down the street. Growing impatient, she crossed her arms and waited for him to acknowledge her. Finally, she punched him in the arm. Hard.

“What’s up with Rude?” she asked.

“…It’s complicated,” he said, rubbing his arm as though she had actually hurt him. “He’s dealing with some issues right now, is all.”

Before he could explain more, his pager went off.

“Really? What now?” he complained before answering it.

It was the Chief. “There has been another monster outbreak in Sector 8. I need you to take care of it.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll proceed at once.” Reno returned the pager to his belt and turned to Cissnei. “We’ve got work to do,” he said with little enthusiasm. “I’m worried about Rude, though. So let’s get this over with quickly.”

Cissnei nodded. “Got it.”

 

* * *

 

With the mission completed, Cissnei and Reno parted ways. As she made her way through the dark streets of Midgar, she stifled a yawn. So many late nights were starting to catch up with her. Just a couple more blocks, she thought, then she'd be back at headquarters. Reno had gone to look for Rude and had declined her offer to go with him. She hoped he wouldn't do anything brash.

As she came to the end of LOVELESS Avenue, she spied a familiar figure across the square. Seated on a bench, Chelsea sat with her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring at the fountain. Abruptly, she stood up and took off at a brisk walk across the square. Cissnei darted back into the shadows as she passed by. When Chelsea was a good a distance ahead of her, she started to follow. Although she was careful to stay in the shadows, Chelsea never once looked back.

Cissnei trailed her to an abandoned warehouse. She briefly paused at the door, and Cissnei saw her take a deep breath, lift her chin, and square her shoulders before going inside. She appeared to be very uneasy. Cissnei tiptoed cautiously to the door and found it standing ajar. She could hear voices inside. Pushing it open carefully, she made her way towards the voices. No lights were on in the main storage area, but there was what appeared to be an old manager's office on the left side of the warehouse floor. The lights were on in there, and the door stood open. She stealthily made her way towards it and knelt in the shadows next to the open doorway. Daring a peek inside, she saw Chelsea along with two men in standard AVALANCHE uniforms. Chelsea's back was to the door, but Cissnei could see the faces of the men; and they didn't look pleased.

“How long do we have to wait for you to get us any information on the Turks?” one asked, sounding impatient.

“I… This mission… I can’t do it anymore,” Chelsea stammered. “I want out.”

“What?!” the man exploded, drawing a knife from the sheath on his belt. “What are you saying? You’re turning traitor!?”

The other man followed his lead and drew his weapon as well. Chelsea backed towards the door.

“What are you doing?” she said, her voice trembling. “Stop!”

Cissnei bolted from her hiding place in the shadows and charged past Chelsea, placing herself between the woman and the AVALANCHE troopers.

“Hold it!” she warned them as she caught them off guard.

One of the men stammered in surprise, “Th-the Turks?! She must have followed Chelsea! Get rid of her!”

The man nearest the Turk lunged towards her, knife first. Stepping aside, Cissnei clamped a hand on the man's wrist before driving the palm of her other hand against his extended elbow, forcing it to bend unnaturally. With a sickening pop, the tip of the man's ulna snapped off at the joint. He dropped his knife as he fell to the ground. A quick knee to his face knocked him out. The other man was already moving towards her. Dropping quickly, Cissnei swept her leg in a wide arc, catching him by the ankles. He crashed to his back on the concrete floor of the office as the Turk vaulted back up to her feet. Then, lifting one leg straight up by her head, she dropped her heel down like an ax, striking the man's sternum. The man gasped and writhed onto his side, a hand to his chest. Lastly, Cissnei drove the toe of her boot into his temple, and the man fell still.

She then turned back to find Chelsea. The woman was pressed back against the wall, her hands covering her face. Cissnei quietly walked over and reached out to her.

“You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked gently.

Chelsea lowered her hands and looked down at the floor. Her face was ghastly pale, but she appeared unharmed. She shook her head “no”.

“Why did those AVALANCHE troops attack you?” the Turk asked.

Chelsea bit her lip as she considered the question. Finally, she answered, “Because I betrayed them.”

“So you are working for AVALANCHE,” Cissnei concluded, crossing her arms.

“Yes,” Chelsea nodded meekly.

“You’re kidding, right?” Cissnei asked hopefully. “You and Rude…”

Chelsea shook her head, crossing her arms and looking at the floor. “It was my mission to get close to him at first. However, we spent more and more time together. And it happened before I realized it. I really fell in love with him. Even though we were supposed to be enemies… Today I was going to meet him under the tree. But… I can’t go. AVALANCHE and the Turks are enemies. So we can’t be together.”

She suddenly spun away from the Turk and started for the exit. But she paused with her hand on the doorframe. Without looking back, she said to Cissnei, “Please tell Rude this… When I’ve been reborn… I'd like to… meet him again.”

Then she darted out the door.

Cissnei ran after her.“Wait!” she called.

“Please. Go to him quickly,” Chelsea called back quietly from the darkness of the warehouse. “He’s not good with the cold.”

Then Cissnei heard the door of the warehouse scrape open across the floor and knew she was gone. She followed her to the door and looked outside. It had started to snow. Pulling on her gloves, she stepped outside and headed reluctantly towards the West Plaza.

--

The tree was shimmering with a hundred different colors, and was only made more magical by the falling snowflakes dancing in the glow of it. The hour was late, and no other patrons were gathered to admire it at the snowy midnight hour. Only Rude stood there under the lighted branches. He heard Cissnei approaching, and looked over his shoulder at her. A frown wrinkled his brow over his glasses.

“Cissnei, what is it?” he asked.

Cissnei clasped her hands tightly in front of her as she drew closer. “I have a message. It’s from Chelsea,” she said tentatively. “She… She won’t be coming today.”

“I see,” Rude said, looking back at the tree.

“She said… That you and her… …”

“‘Can’t be together’, right?” he finished.

Neither one spoke for a moment. Finally, Cissnei asked, “Aren’t you going to go after her?”

With his back still to her, Rude shook his head. “She’s given me her answer.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Cissnei said quietly.

Rude was silent for moment as he stared up at the multicolored tree. “Yeah…” he finally mumbled as he turned and walked away.

“Rude!” Cissnei called after him, but he didn't answer. Looking past him, she saw Reno leaning against the entrance to the plaza.

“Yo! What’s the matter?” he asked as Rude got closer. “You don’t look so good. You sentimentalist.”

“Shut up,” Rude replied, with a hint of a smile.

Reno flashed Cissnei a smile of his own before turning back to his friend. “Brrr… It’s freezing,” he complained, rubbing his arms. “What the hell are we doing out here on a snowy night like this anyway? Let’s get back to headquarters.”

 

A few days later….

[Shinra Headquarters, Conference Room]

President Shinra rested his elbows at the head of a long table flanked by his directors and top executives. He wasn't smiling, and neither were any of them.

“Mr. President, the executive meeting is about to begin,” said Reeve Tuesti, Head of the Department of Urban Development.

“Mhm…” President Shinra hummed as he focused in on what Reeve was saying.

“Reeve.” The President's son was joining the conference on a video call. “Do you have the damage report for the AVALANCHE attack on Junon?”

“Yes, sir,” Reeve answered as he passed a small stack of papers towards the President. “We’ve repaired the damage done to the mako cannon and reset the security parameters. The damage to the city has been tallied; repairs are still underway, but we should be back up to full scale operation in a matter of days. The repair and recon teams are working around the clock to make it as quick as possible. We’ve sustained a lot of damage, but we’re doing what we can under the circumstances. In addition to the cost of repairing the mako cannon, there is the damage caused to the city by various small-scale attacks. The total sum is quite large as the damage was very extensive.”

President Shinra's face grew redder with each additional sum. Nearly shaking with anger, he stammered, “Why aren’t we doing anything to address the threat this organization poses to us? Why haven’t they been crushed yet!? Verdot! What are your Turks doing? Why hasn’t their headquarters been located?”

The Head of the Department of Administrative Research calmly folded his hands on the table in front of him before answering. “With all due respect, Mr. President, my people are already working at full capacity and are fulfilling their duties flawlessly. They are putting everything they have into investigating AVALANCHE.”

“What have you found out?” the President pressed, demanding evidence. “Recruit more Turks if you have to. I want them destroyed, Verdot.”

“Yes, sir,” Veld responded reverently. “I will make arrangements for new recruits immediately, but please remember that SOLDIER is in charge of what happens on the front lines. If we’re going to move effectively, we’ll need to have their cooperation.”

The President raised his eyebrows at the suggestion and hummed in agreement. He highly favored the SOLDIER program. His thoughts were interrupted by Rufus.

“Father. I'm sorry – Mr. President. It looks to me like our fight with AVALANCHE isn’t going too well.”

“It doesn’t concern someone who’s on a business trip,” President Shinra scolded.

“I’m still the Vice President of the Shinra Company,” Rufus reminded him.

“Well, that’s true…” his father conceded.

Rufus continued, “Something has been bothering me. Why is it that wherever the Turks go, AVALANCHE appears? They’re getting their information from somewhere… or someone. It seems like someone is leaking information to them? What do you think, Verdot?”

Veld nodded slowly. “…We’ll look into it,” he replied.

“If this is the way things work around here, it’s no wonder AVALANCHE is getting the upper hand on us, President,” Rufus prodded. “Who should be held responsible?”

“Hmph!” the President snorted indignantly. “Do you have a problem with the way I’m running my company?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that you should proceed with caution,” Rufus warned his father coldly.

The President's fist crashed against the table. “Verdot! Get to work! Crush those damned savages. I want to see results, and I want to see them soon!” he ordered impatiently.

“Yes, sir.”

Chapter 25: 7: The Darkness Obscuring the Light, part 1

Notes:

I once again switch up the Player Turk for these chapters, introducing Gun (or Emma as she is named in her concept art).

[January 14, 0002 - 2AM]

[Icicle Inn]

A light snow drifted down to join the thick layer of it already blanketing the ground. It always snowed at the quaint mountain village, it seemed. Icicle Inn was a small town, located in the Snow Fields of the Northern Continent just north of Modeoheim. Most of the town's structures were rustic in nature, being built from the logs of the great coniferous trees that grew in the Icicle Area. The soft yellow glow of firelight illuminated most of the village windows after dark. Even now at the early morning hour, thin columns of smoke rose from many chimneys in an effort to keep the town's inhabitants warm at the bitterly cold latitude. But not everyone in the village was snuggled inside a warm cabin. Two SOLDIERs waded through the fresh snowfall, their boots loudly crunching the delicate ice crystal beneath their feet.

“We’ve finally reached the base,” Essai said triumphantly to his companion as he eyed one of the warmly lit windows of the village inn.

“Let’s hurry up and get out of this place,” Sebastian complained. “There’s nothing out here but snow. The boredom is killing me.”

“Remember, Sebastian, we’re here on a mission,” his comrade reminded him light-heartedly.

“Mission?” the other man exclaimed. “You mean the monster extermination? We’re SOLDIERs. That kind of work isn’t worth our time.”

Essai suddenly reached over and bumped Sebastian’s arm. Ahead of them, he pointed out two men traversing the icy street. No one else should be out in the bitter weather at this hour. The strangers were dressed in all black and striding directly towards them, seemingly unbothered by the biting wind blowing in their faces. They stopped a couple meters away from the SOLDIERs and stood quietly facing them.

“Who are you?” Sebastian called out to them, his voice clear and bold.

The men didn't answer, only staring back at them from behind protective goggles affixed to their faces. An uneasy feeling coiled itself in the pit of Essai’s stomach as he studied them. “Those uniforms…” he observed soberly. “These guys are from AVALANCHE.”

“They’re trying to pick a fight with us. Go figure,” Sebastian said, sounding unconcerned. Taking a confident step towards the men. He raised his voice as he addressed them, “Tell me: what business do you boys have with us?”

“Sebastian. Don’t,” Essai warned, reaching out and taking him by the arm. He did not feel as confident as the other SOLDIER. He’d heard things about AVALANCHE. They were more competent than they appeared.

“Relax,” Sebastian chided him as he jerked his arm free. “I’m just having some fun, that’s all. They’re not going to attack us. Ordinary people don’t stand a chance against us anyway.”

The man nearest him stifled an amused chuckle as he drew his sword. He then streaked past the SOLDIER in a blur. The next second, Sebastian dropped to one knee, a hand clutching at a rapidly growing streak of red across his chest.

Beside him, Essai watched wide-eyed, unsure of how and what had just transpired. “Sebastian!” he exclaimed.

With a groan, Sebastian collapsed face down in snow.

Staring at his fallen comrade in utter shock, Essai took a staggering step towards him, hand outstretched, all the while mumbling, “Sebastian… That’s not possible.”

The second AVALANCHE trooper wasted no time in taking advantage of the other SOLDIERs disoriented state. With a swift motion, he lunged in and laid him out in the snow next to his comrade. Sheathing their weapons, the two men stepped over the bodies of the fallen SOLDIERs and stood looking down at their handiwork. A spray of pink stained the snow between their boots.

“Good,” one man told his companion with a smirk. “Now, let’s take them back to the base.”

- -

[Shinra Conference Room]

Chief Verdot looked down at the vibrating phone on the conference table in front of him. Taking up the device, he peered up the long table to the President and offered him a nod as he excused himself from the conference table to take the incoming call. Stepping aside, he turned to a secluded corner of the room and answered, “Verdot.”

“A report just came in.” It was Tseng. “We’ve lost communication with the men at the front line base at Icicle Inn. It appears to have been destroyed and the two SOLDIERs we had stationed there are also unaccounted for. Our guess is that they’ve been killed or abducted.”

“Destroyed?” Veld asked almost a little too loudly. He lowered his voice further. “And you’re telling me that someone out there has the strength to take down two SOLDIERs…”

“Emma is currently en route to Icicle Inn,” Tseng informed him. “Ruluf is also on the way.”

Veld confirmed the action and disconnected the call. When he returned to the conference table, every eye was on him, particularly the President.

“Verdot, explain what’s happening!” the President bellowed. “Bases destroyed and SOLDIER operatives missing?”

So he had overheard.

“Sir, those are the facts,” Veld responded calmly. “What’s happened has happened. My people are currently en route to investigate the situation. I’ll let you know as soon as we get more information. Please be patient, Mr. President.”

“I want to know what’s happening out there!” the President barked.

“Yes, sir.”

- -

[Icicle Inn]

A young woman stood looking out at the barren snowy landscape around her. A fresh layer of snow was starting to accumulate on top of the thick blanket already covering the ground. With one hand she pushed a stray section of short blond hair from her face, and with the other pulled the furred collar of her coat tighter around her neck. Beneath it, she wore the standard black suit of her profession. Emma had joined the Turks a few years back upon her graduation of the Shinra Military School where her father was a firearms instructor. As stubborn as she was loyal, she had found her niche among the Turks.

Her phone chimed. She reached a gloved hand into her jacket pocket and flipped it open.

“Emma.” It was Tseng.

“Tseng, I’ve arrived at Icicle,” she reported.

The line was silent for a moment before Tseng came back on. “The outpost there has been destroyed,” he informed her.

“What?” she asked, instinctively looking about her for signs of danger. “AVALANCHE again?” she surmised.

“The details are unclear. But most likely, yes,” Tseng agreed. “Two SOLDIER members who had been stationed there are also missing.”

Emma’s eyes grew wide. “SOLDIER was there and this happened?!”

“It must have been a large-scale assault,” Tseng continued. “They most likely have a major base in the vicinity. Ruluf is out there looking for it. You should search as well. We believe their base should be somewhere north of your current location.”

The Turk nodded. “Understood.”

She returned the phone to her pocket and directed her gaze to the north. A large rise covered in snow laid in that direction. She could see nothing beyond it from her location. She pulled the fur lined edge of her hood closer around her face and started trekking through the deep snowfall towards it. The going was slow, and the wind whipping the snowflakes was bitingly cold. When she reached the top of the rise, she shielded her eyes from the flying flecks of ice and scanned the landscape. About a mile in the distance she could make out the outline of what looked like a large box. A layer of snow marked its roof, and a soft yellow glow outlined small evenly spaced windows on its south side.

Praising her good fortune, she hurried onward. When she got closer, she could see that the compound was built into a hillside. A large door, presumably its main entrance, was on the south side. Not wanting to be seen, she cut east to circumvent the compound's front side. Then, approaching it from the rear, she made her way silently onto the roof from the hillside. There were no guards to be seen anywhere. Finding it odd, she retrieved her phone and called Tseng.

“I’ve located the enemy base,” she updated him, doing her best to shield the speaker from the howling winds.

“Can you get in?” Tseng asked.

She took a quick look around the roof for a means of entrance. There were several air vents spaced about. “Of course.”

“Then scout out the interior,” he ordered. “We need to ascertain the importance of the base.”

“Understood.”

The Turk pocketed the phone and made her way towards one of the vents. She found the metal grate covering the opening easy to remove. Pulling back her hood, she looked down the vent and climbed inside.

- -

[Shinra Conference Room]

The air inside the conference room was thick. The other executives had long since left, leaving the President alone with the Head of Administrative Research. Both men sat in quiet brooding at opposite ends of the table. President Shinra pulled in deeply on his cigar before releasing a cloud of the acrid smoke into the air.

Veld’s phone buzzed from his breast pocket. The President met his eyes as he rose from his chair and turned aside.

“An update, sir,” Tseng relayed. “Emma has located the compound.”

“I see…” Veld hummed as he crossed the conference room. “However, we still don’t have sufficient intelligence.”

“Emma is investigating the base as we speak,” Tseng explained.

The Chief hummed his approval and disconnected the call.

“Verdot!” President Shinra thundered behind him. “Any news yet?”

Veld nodded and turned back around to face the President. “My people have located the compound,” he reported.

“Good. Begin the assault at once,” the President ordered.

“Please wait, Mr. President,” Veld answered patiently. “The base is still being investigated. We are in the process of confirming the situation.”

At the head of the table, President Shinra ground out the end of his cigar in the ash tray in front of him and leaned back in his chair. Sparks danced in the depths of his icy blue glare as he reined in his frustrations. “Then hurry up and get your information!” he finally commanded.

Chief Verdot dipped his head submissively. “Yes, sir.”

- -

[AVALANCHE Base, Icicle Inn]

Red lights flashed rhythmically down the halls of the base, accompanied by the wail of an undulating siren.

Intruder in Area 6. Intruder in Area 6. A robotic monotone voice repeated the warning.

Two men in khaki fatigues stopped in their patrol of the halls.

“That’s on the other side of the base,” the one man said to his companion.

The other nodded. “Right. Let’s go.”

 

Elsewhere in the base, Fuhito stood staring out a window at the vast snow-covered landscape. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, appearing unconcerned about the intruder notification. He was accompanied by one of his black-clad troopers standing at attention behind him.

“Tierce,” Fuhito said calmly, yet directly, almost like a father addressing his child.

“Yes,” the man answered behind him.

“A sacrifice to the Planet has arrived,” Fuhito explained. “Please ensure that it is returned to the circle of life immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That is good, Tierce. Every day, the Planet draws ever closer to its own demise.” Fuhito cast one more glance out the window then turned to face his subordinate. He continued, “And it is all because of the Shinra Company. They are responsible. They are killing the Planet with their reactors sucking it dry with their mako reactors. Therefore, we will restore the balance by replacing the lives Shinra has taken with their own. It is our duty to ease the Planet’s suffering. This is what we must do, to save a planet already so compromised. And this what you, as Ravens, were created for. Shinra is the greatest threat to the Planet. They must be removed as soon as possible.”

Tierce nodded obediently. “Understood.”

Fuhito dismissed his trooper – his Raven – and turned back to the window. The snow was falling harder.

 

The Turk crept to the end of the air duct and peered through the slats in the grate. Below, she could see two guards at one end of the corridor. A siren sounded, startling her.

Intruder in Area 6. Intruder in Area 6.

She watched as the two guards below her checked their weapons and took off down another hallway.

“So there’s another intruder besides me,” she mumbled to herself as the men moved out of sight. Removing her gloves, she pulled out her radio and called Tseng. “I'm in,” she reported.

“All right,” Tseng told her. “Begin investigating. Keep in mind that you’re in enemy territory. This is a covert operation, so keep track of the enemy’s movements. Your life could be in danger if they find you and call for backup. Send back a report once you’re done. We need a full overview of the base.”

“Understood.”

Snapping the radio back on her belt, she shed her coat and set to work prying open the vent grate. The clips holding it in place snapped open easily enough, allowing her to pull the cover aside and drop down into the hallway below. Landing in a silent crouch, she quickly scanned the hall in both directions. An undulating red light repeatedly swept the area, but no other guards had appeared in this particular corridor. As best as she could tell, this corridor ran north to south, and she estimated herself to be in the northeast corner of the building. Turning south, she made her way to the end of the passage where it connected to an east-west corridor.

Stopping at the corner to listen, she heard the faint sound of booted footsteps approaching from the west end. As they drew closer, she activated her EMR and prepared to take him down as quickly – and quietly – as possible. The second he stepped around the corner, he was knocked unconscious. Emmahastily pulled his body back into the north corridor and left him there, hoping he would not be discovered any time soon.

Stepping into the east-west corridor, she looked in the direction the man had come from. About fifty feet up the hall, a large metal door was drawn down. It looked as though it was part of a security lock down protocol, probably in response to the detected intruder. It didn't look penetrable. She would have to focus her reconnaissance on the east side of the compound then. Perhaps the other Turk would be able to fulfill his mission on the west.

With the west passage blocked, she was left with two choices: turn east, or continue south on the original corridor. She chose south and continued down the hall. At another intersection, she found a similar east-west corridor with the west hall also blocked. The south hall continued no further. With no other options, she headed east. The hall was lined with several doors on either side. The first two she tried were locked. The third opened into what appeared to be a store room. Two rows of metal shelving ran the length of the small room. The Turk stepped inside and her made way through the room,passing up and down the aisles and recording the contents in a voice memo on her phone.

“Ammunition, radios, various hand tools, spools of wire–”

She heard footsteps in the hall and cut her inventory taking short. Darting to the corner behind the open door, she held her rod ready as the enemy trooper entered the store room. He headed straight for the ammunition boxes on the front row. When she was certain he had come alone, the Turk disposed of him as easily as she had the first. She stashed his body in the corner behind door and left the store room.

Back in the hall, she tried two more locked doors. Frustrated by her lack of progress she stopped to evaluate her location. She was about halfway down this hall, with six more doors left to try. At the end, it appeared to connect to another north-south corridor that would presumably loop back around to the first hall she had crossed. While she contemplated her next move, her thoughts were cut short by the sound of approaching voices down the adjacent hallway. Shereflexively reached for the door on her left. It was open. Hoping there were no AVALANCHE troops inside, she entered quickly and quietly shut the door behind her.

Unsure of whether she would be followed, she turned to survey the room, hoping there would be a place to hide should the need arise. The room itself appeared to be mostly empty. Several monitors and lighted switchboards lined one wall. At the end of the room, a row of capsules stood in a line against the wall. They reached from floor to ceiling, and each had a small computer screen and keypad mounted on its side. Various sized tubes erupted from the tops and connected to pipes running along the ceiling. Each tank was filled with a murky liquid.

The entire room had an ominous air about it. Cautiously, the Turk stepped closer to the tanks. She could make out a human outline in each of the two middle tanks. The image filled her with dread as she hurried up to the left tank and pressed her face to the glass for a better look. She squinted to see through the hazy fluid. Stifling a gasp, she jerked back with a hand pressed to her chest. The man was wearing a uniform that she recognized well.

“SOLDIERs!” she gasped. She had to get them out of there – quick.

Backing away from the apparatus, she looked down at the computer screen mounted to one of the tanks. It required a pass code to activate. Opting for a faster method, she grasped the handle of her attack rod and swung it at the glass tanks like a bat. Both tanks shattered, one after the other, spilling their contents in a deluge on the floor in front of them.

Stepping carefully around the puddles of unknown fluid, she knelt next to one of the men and gently took his shoulder to roll him over. The man stirred at her touch, startling her. As she snatched her hand back, the man began pushing himself up.

“Uuuhhh… Sebastian?” he moaned. Essai rolled over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, looking surprisingly well, considering the facts.

“What happened here?” Emma asked him, staring back at the SOLDIER wide-eyed.

On her other side, the second SOLIDER stirred as well, rolling over to face his comrade, before pushing himself up to his knees. His colleague glanced up at the Turkleaning over him. He looked her up and down as the other SOLDIER got to his feet.

“…The Turks, huh,” he finally said, cracking a rueful smile. “Thanks for saving us.”

“Damn it,” the other SOLDIER cursed. “What a disgrace, huh, Essai? SOLDIER having the Turks come to their rescue.” Sebastian reached out a hand and pulled Essai to his feet.

Ignoring Sebastian's jabs, Essai turned back to the Turk. “We were assigned to the Icicle Inn outpost,” he explained.

“That’s right!” Sebastian exclaimed, snapping his fingers and turning to face the Turk as well. “What about the outpost? Is everyone all right?”

Emma looked back and forth between the two men. She hesitated. “…It was destroyed.”

An air of shock settled over the two SOLDIERs as they stood staring back at her. “Are you kidding me?” Sebastian exclaimed and cursed again under his breath. “You’re telling me that the two of them did that by themselves?”

“Two!?” Emma questioned them disbelievingly. As in only two? “That’s not possible! Two men did this to you?”

“I know it sounds hard to believe, but it’s the truth,” Essai answered in a calm level tone. “We were attacked by two AVALANCHE troops dressed in black.”

“And when we came to, we were inside these capsules,” Sebastian concluded, hitching a thumb over his shoulder at the busted tanks behind them.

Emma turned to look at the capsules again. “What they are for?” she asked the SOLDIERs.

Sebastian looked at them too with a disgusted frown and shook his head. “No idea.”

“The AVALANCHE guys in black were put in there too,” Essai revealed. “Since they do it to their comrades, it shouldn’t be harmful.”

Emma continued to study the shattered tank with a wrinkled brow. Something about it didn’t seem right. “These capsules…” she mused. “Could they be what’s making the black-wearing AVALANCHE troops stronger?”

“It’s possible. But then why would they put us in there?” asked Sebastian suspiciously. He had a point. Why do something good for an enemy soldier?

“Is the company planning to attack this location?” Essai asked abruptly behind them.

The Turk turned back to him and nodded. “That’s why I’m here. I’m gathering data for the attack.”

“It’s going to require a sizable force,” Essai reported. “You’re going to need a lot of power to do it, and I’m not just talking about manpower.”

“Yeah. Those guys are on the same level as SOLDIER,” warned Sebastian.

“But right now we need to regroup,” concluded Essai, taking control of the situation. “A lot of preparation is going to be needed.”

Emma nodded in agreement. “In that case, you should return to the outpost. HQ is setting up a temporary encampment there.”

“Guess we’ve got no other choice,” said Sebastian, sounding disgusted as he cast a furtive glance around the chamber.

“What about you?” Essai asked the Turk.

Emma shook her head. “My mission's not over yet,” she told them. “I’m going to finish up my survey.”

The SOLDIERs exchanged a knowing glance before saluting the Turk.

“See you at base then,” Sebastian said as he turned towards the door.

“Right. We’ll report the situation when we get to camp,” Essai added as he followed after his companion.

Emma bid them farewell as the SOLDIERs made their way cautiously into the hall and disappeared, leaving her alone in the small laboratory. She turned a tight circle, surveying the room before moving to examine the capsules again. How they worked was a mystery to her, but she knew they would be of great interest to the company. She called Tseng.

“Did something happen?” Tseng answered, sounding concerned.

“I found the missing SOLDIER operatives inside the compound,” she reported, then added, “The ones who went missing from the outpost.”

“Are they all right?” he asked dubiously.

“Yes. I sent them back to the temporary encampment,” she reported. “There’s something bothering me, though. They were in these capsules, immersed in some sort of strange liquid.”

“Strange liquid? Poison or something?” Tseng mused.

“I don’t think so. They said that the AVALANCHE troops in black were put in them too,” she explained.

“Fuhito’s troops as well?” Tseng grew pensive as he ran the idea through his head. “What is that man up to…?”

“Should I destroy the equipment?” she asked.

“Wait,” Tseng stopped her. “How many are in the compound?”

“There’s a lot of them,” she reported grimly.

“Then don’t do anything reckless,” he cautioned her. They couldn’t afford for her to get caught. “Just continue to gather information.”

Emma looked once more at the tanks before lowering her weapon and conceding. “Understood.”She hung up and pocketed the phone.

As she stepped back from the row of tanks, an unfriendly laugh resounded unexpectedly from behind her. She whirled around, weapon raised to face one of Fuhito’s black-clad Ravens.

“Found you,” the man sneered.

He was close. Close enough to land a swift uppercut to the Turk's stomach. The blow lifted Emma off the ground before flinging her into the shattered capsules behind her. Scrambling to regain her feet, she pushed herself up off the floor. A shard of glass sunk deep into the palm of her hand as she did so. Still on her knees, she grabbed at the shard protruding from the base of her hand and yanked it out of her flesh with a hiss. Blood seeped from the gash as she tried to sling the stinging sensation from her hand and rose to her feet. The Raven watched her with a sadistic glow in his eyes.

Emma glared back, her mind racing to evaluate her opponent. She had lost her grip on her rod when she fell and her weapon now lay several feet to her left. Her eyes slid towards it. The Raven noticed her intent, and they lunged for it simultaneously. At the last second, Emma threw her weight back and sat down hard on her backside as the Raven moved into the space where she should've been. As she went down, she reached inside her jacket and drew her pistol. She squeezed away at the trigger, getting off three shots, all of which pounded out a perfect triangle in the center of the man's chest. His face registered mild shock before dropping to the floor face down at her feet, hand stretched towards her EMR.

Closing her eyes, Emma sat still for moment, catching her breath. Now that she was finally still, she wasn't sure which hurt worse, her gut or her hand. The more she thought about it, it was most definitely her hand. With a growl, she put both aches from her mind and got to her feet, returning the pistol to its holster as she went.

Before setting off, Emma took a moment to stand over the Raven's body. A small pool of blood was gathering on the floor under his chest. He wouldn't be sneaking up on her again. She snatched her rod from the floor and looked one more time around the room, trying to memorize as many details as possible. Satisfied with her knowledge, she left the room. Closing the door firmly behind her, she headed back down the hall in the direction she had come from. Her gunshots had not been silent, and it was only a matter of time before another AVALANCHE guard found her. It was time to get out.

At the point where the corridors intersected, she paused to listen. Footsteps were cautiously approaching. With no place to hide, she readied her weapon and pressed herself up against the wall as she drew back a couple steps. She waited for what felt like an eternity. Whoever was coming was taking their time. The footsteps paused. She counted to three, then stepped around the corner; so did her opponent. As she stepped into the other hall, she was met by two pistols aimed at her face. The taser tip of her rod was at his throat. Their eyes met, and they lowered their weapons. Emma smiled at her fellow Turk.

“Ruluf!” she exclaimed with a smile, noting his familiar suit, sans tie. The man dressed about as well as Reno.

“That would be me,” Ruluf confirmed as he holstered one of his pistols.

Emma also deactivated her rod. “Have you finished investigating?”

He nodded. “I’m done.”

“Mission cleared then,” she said with a grin. “Let’s hurry back.”

“I know a way out,” the other Turk said, nodding towards the west hall. “Come on.”

Chapter 26: 7: The Darkness Obscuring the Light, part 2

Fuhito led two of his Ravens into the small laboratory on the compound’s east side. Two of the capsules – the ones that had been holding the SOLDIERs – were shattered and the fluid they contained pooled across the floor. The SOLDIERs, of course, were nowhere to be seen. One of his own soldiers, though, was lying face down in a small pool of blood seeping out from under his chest. Fuhito walked over to the Raven and nudged the man's leg with his foot. No reaction.

“Looks like they can put up a bit of a struggle,” the scientist said cynically, turning back to his two other soldiers. “Let’s make this a little more challenging, then… Kanos.”

The man on his left snapped to attention. “Yes, sir.”

Fuhito looked to the other one. “Kyneugh.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please, get to work,” he ordered.

The two men nodded obediently and stepped past their leader. Moving in unison, they knelt next to Tierce's body and lifted him off the floor.

- -

The two Turks sprinted down the west passage. The doors sealing off the building earlier were no longer locked, leaving their route wide open. Red warning lights flashed rhythmically down every corridor, accompanied by a low pitched siren and a monotone voice calmly warning, “Intruder alert. Intruder alert.” As they passed through an intersection, a heavy metal door dropped down behind them with a resounding clang.

“The shutters are closing!?” Emma exclaimed, looking back. “We have to escape before we get trapped.”

“This way,” Ruluf said, taking her hand and pulling her forward.

Before they had made it fifty feet, another shutter dropped down in front of them. They pulled up short in front of it. Ruluf cursed and slammed his palm against the barricade in frustration. The sound echoed loudly in the enclosed space.

“Is there another route?” asked Emma.

Ruluf looked back the way they had come and set off again with a growl. “This way,” he ordered.

Ahead of them, two AVALANCHE troopers appeared from an intersecting corridor. Ruluf drew one pistol and put a bullet in the first man. The second man ducked back into the other hall as the Turks approached. At the intersection, Ruluf ran ahead as Emma turned aside to deal with the other trooper. With a quick flick of her wrist, she brought up her own pistol and sent a bullet slicing through the air. She paused just long enough to see her shot hit its mark, then continued after her comrade. Ahead, she saw him pass around a corner and followed right behind him. Stopping at the next intersection, he turned back for her. Before she reached him, the sound of scraping metal erupted overhead and another door came crashing down between them.

Emma skidded to a stop, barely avoiding being crushed by the shutter. Stepping up to the barricade, she pounded her fist against the metal blocking her path and muttered curses under her breath. She could hear Ruluf pounding similarly on the other side.

“You go on ahead,” she shouted, hoping he could hear her through the barricade. “I’ll catch up with you soon!”

“Try to find another path,” she heard his muffled voice coming through. “There must be one somewhere that connects to this one.”

“Got it!”

She spun around and darted back the way they had come. At the intersecting hallway where they had been ambushed moments before, she took a hard left. Three more enemy troops entered the hallway before her. One saw her and shouted to alert the others as he drew his weapon. Favoring efficiency over stealth at this point, the Turk pulled her pistol and accurately fired off three rounds, eliminating each target in turn. She cringed at the sound of her gunfire echoing through the corridor. Keeping her weapon drawn, she raced forward towards the next corner. Her pager went off. She snatched it from her belt and answered without slowing down.

“Did you find one yet?” It was Ruluf. His breathing was heavy and his voice sounded distant.

“Looks like it,” she said, checking around the next corner. “Wait for me. I’ll catch up soon. I’m almost–”

“Ugh!” A painful grunt cut her off.

“Ruluf! Ruluf!” she shouted into the pager. Only static crackled from the other end. “Damn it!” she cursed. She had a bad feeling about this.

Returning the pager to her belt, she rushed around the corner. The familiar sound of gunfire reverberated up the corridor. The shots rang louder as she approached the next turn. Another hall ran north-south. A bullet whizzed by from the north end of the hall. Emma jerked back and pressed herself against the corner. Daring to peer up the hall, she sighted three AVALANCHE troopers forming a firing squad at the end of the passage. And about half way down, she saw Ruluf sheltered in a shallow doorway. He held one pistol cocked by his head. His other arm hung limply at his side. She noticed a small trickle of blood dripping from his fingers. At his wrist, the cuff of his white shirt was stained crimson.

The enemy was so focused on their wounded target, that Emma had not been noticed. She checked her weapon, then spun around the corner. Her first two shots dropped an equal number of fighters. She then aimed her pistol at the remaining gunman and pulled the trigger. Click. The sickening sound of an empty chamber echoed down the corridor. The last AVALANCHE trooper swung his rifle towards his new assailant and took aim. As Emma ducked back into the side hall, she heard one shot echo loudly behind her.

“Emma!” Ruluf called.

She looked back to see the last gunman on the ground and Ruluf jogging towards her. When he got closer, she could see a tear in the sleeve of his jacket at his bicep. He had been shot.

“Are you alright?” she asked, eyeing the bullet hole.

“I'm fine,” Ruluf insisted, panting as he nodded down the hall. “Let’s go. The exit's at the end of this hall.”

Leading the way, he sprinted with all the energy he had left. He could hear Emma's footsteps at his heels. A set of doors was shut at the end of the hall. It was the exit. It had to be. The two Turks slid to a stop. Emma pounded on the doors. A keypad was mounted on the wall next to the door. Ruluf slammed the butt of one of his pistols into the controls, and the doors slid open. An icy blast of air rushed in, hitting them full in the face as the two Turks ran from the base.

The snow had stopped falling, but neither of them noticed. The powdery snow crunched under their feet as they ran. Neither said a word. Ahead of them on a small rise, a line of AVALANCHE troops formed a barricade, blocking their path. In unison, their sprint slowed to a jog and then a walk before they finally came to a helpless stop. Emma eyed the enemy line ahead of them, knowing they couldn't possibly fight their way past this time. Behind her, she could hear more footsteps approaching. She looked to Ruluf. The man was staring straight ahead, glaring murderously at the enemy troops before them.

Behind them, she heard an amused chuckle and the sensation of hot breath tickle the back of her neck. Her breath caught in her throat, despite her heavy breathing, and her heart nearly stopped. Whirling around, she came face to face with the man behind her. It was a Raven. The trooper stood facing her with arms crossed. An amused smirk twisted his lips, and a malicious sparkle danced in his eyes. She staggered back a step. She recognized the man from the capsule room.

“You again?” she swore under her breath. “How?”

Ruluf was suddenly at her side, observing the Raven staring back at them. He looked at Emma, then to the Raven, and back to Emma again. “An acquaintance?” he asked her.

“Just a little while ago, I’m sure that I…” she seemed to be struggling for words. “I’m sure that I killed him!”

Behind them, the ominous sound of rifles chambering rounds echoed through the air. Ruluf spun back to face them with weapons raised as Emma continued to stare wide eyed at the undead Raven. The Raven drew his sword as the sound of gunfire began to erupt. Snapping back to attention, Emma dropped to a crouch as the Raven slashed at her neck then launched herself back at him. The man twisted away from her, letting her sail past him. As she hit the snow, she kicked out with her left foot, catching Tierce’s ankle. The man went down, but threw his weight forward as he did. He came down on top of her, pinning her in the snow with a knee in her chest. The air was forced from her lungs as she struggled beneath him. Lifting her pistol, she shoved its muzzle towards his chest. As she pulled the trigger, a powerful grip clamped down on her wrist and wrested it aside. The bullet went wide, barely nicking the man’s ribs.

Tierce forced her hand back down, pressing it into the snow beside her head as he loomed over her. He grinned down at her, chuckling in amusement as she thrashed against him. In his other hand, he turned the handle of his sword, rotating its blade till it angled down towards her throat. With her free hand, she clawed at his wrist, fighting to hold the sword back. Suddenly, the pressure working against her ceased, and she saw Tierce’s grin quickly fade. Throwing him off, Emma looked up to see Ruluf standing behind him with gun extended. Scurrying to her feet, she stood over the man's body for a second time. Her breathing was ragged, and her hands had taken on a slight tremor.

“Emma.” Ruluf was now standing behind her, looking past her to the man dead in the snow.

“It’s weird… I’m sure that I got him the first time,” she insisted, her voice sounding quiet and small.

“Strange, isn’t it?” another, more sinister voice asked them.

Emma's head jerked up and looked around for the speaker. A slender man, with a pair of narrow glasses perched on the end of his nose stood a few meters away, flanked on either side by a Raven. He had an arrogant air about him, and appeared amused by her distressed confusion. She recognized the man immediately.

“Fuhito…”

The scientist smiled, seeming pleased by her recognition. “It has been a while, I believe.”

“Not my lucky day, huh,” Emma said, sounding cynical.

“Ha! My personal troops, the Ravens,” Fuhito explained, waving a hand to the black-clad warriors accompanying him. “They are quite special.”

Emma looked back at the dead man in front of her. “Special?”

“You have already had a look at the capsules. By putting the Ravens in there, they are able to regenerate,” Fuhito explained proudly.

“Regenerate?” she gasped, thinking back to the room where she found the SOLDIERs. I should have broken those capsules, she lamented.

“They are indestructible, completely impervious to death,” Fuhito went on, praising the attributes of his own soldiers. “No matter how many times you cut them down–”

“That’s impossible!” she shouted defiantly.

Ignoring the interruption, Fuhito continued, “However, it still needs work. After all, this defect couldn’t even take care of a single Turk.”

The scientist withdrew a menacing looking gun from a holster on his hip and pointed it towards the Turks. Emma took a step back as the muzzle of the weapon began to glow. Ruluf stepped forward and stretched out his good arm to shield his comrade. Fuhito's eyes lowered to the Raven at their feet.

“Return to the Planet in peace,” he commanded without emotion.

When he pulled the trigger, a bright beam erupted from the weapon and consumed the Raven in a glaring green glow. Emma and Ruluf jumped back and shielded their eyes as the body at their feet dematerialized. When they looked again, only a green mist remained where the man's body had been. Emma glared at Fuhito through the mist dissipating into the air between them.

“Merciless…” she growled through gritted teeth. “That was one of your own men!”

“It is our duty to protect this Planet,” Fuhito explained calmly. “Anything that brings harm to the it must be erased. That is the only way to heal it. All I did was return some of the Planet’s energy back to it.”

We are fighting to protect the Planet,” Fuhito explained calmly. “Anything that brings harm to the Planet must be erased. That is the only way to heal it.”

“Just like I’d expect from a mad man like you,” she seethed.

“Ha!” Fuhito cackled. “It would have been meaningless not to kill him. You use the souls of people every day to create mako energy. It amounts to the same thing. The lives of Shinra’s slaves must make up for the life stolen from the Planet.” He paused for a moment, then continued, sounding much less amused, “Well then, thank you for your patience. It is your turn now, dogs of Shinra.” Fuhito raised his weapon towards the two Turks. “For the sake of the Planet, please die.”

The weapon’s muzzle began to glow as it had before. Emma looked behind them, instinctively looking for a means of escape; but the line of AVALANCHE troops was still blocking them in. She looked to Ruluf. He, too, seemed to be out of ideas. The glow of the weapon grew brighter.

Suddenly a bright light erupted from the trees to their left. Fuhito lowered his weapon and shielded his eyes as a pair of blinding headlights rushed at them from the darkness. At the last possible second, he dove back out of the path of the careening truck. In a spray of snow, the vehicle slid to a stop between the scientist and the Turks.

“Hey!” a woman shouted through the open window. “Emma! Ruluf!”

“Who are you?” Emma asked suspiciously.

The woman ignored the question. “If you don’t want to die, get in!” she ordered.

“Come on,” Ruluf grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the back of the cargo truck without a moment’s hesitation.

Snow sprayed from the tires as the truck shifted gears and accelerated away from the encroaching AVALANCHE squadron. Emma watched from the back of the truck as two Ravens attempting to pursue them on foot shrunk into the distance.

Pulling himself up out of the snow, Fuhito stood calmly watching the fleeing Turks. Brushing off his sleeves, he called to his soldiers, “Wait. There is no need to pursue them.” Then, turning to the Raven at his side, he revealed, “We have more important things to do.”

- -

With a sigh, Emma moved to the front of the cargo hold and joined Ruluf. The driver of the truck reached back and slid open the window at the back of the cab. A phone lying on the front passenger seat chimed, and the woman snatched it up. Emma leaned forward and studied the woman as she answered the phone. She had long sleek black hair and carried herself with perfect posture. Her face was stern, but her eyes were lively. As Emma listened, she could hear a muffled voice coming through the speaker.

“Did you get them?”

“Tseng, mission complete,” the woman answered.

“Good work. Head back to the temporary encampment for now,” Tseng ordered.

“Will do,” the woman confirmed.

“Let me borrow the phone for a minute,” said Emma, reaching through the window. “I have to make my report to the Chief.”

The woman pressed a button on the keypad and passed the phone back without a word before returning her focus to driving the truck. When Emma held the receiver to her ear, Verdot was already addressing her.

“Emma, what’s your status?”

“Sir, we’ve got to take action immediately; the enemy base must be crushed as soon as possible,” she advised breathlessly. “Otherwise, there’s no telling what Fuhito will do.”

“Calm down, Emma,” Veld's deep voice came over the phone as calm as ever. “Send over the intelligence you’ve gathered once you reach the base. We’ll take appropriate steps from there.”

Emma took a breath and nodded. “Understood.”

As she disconnected the call, the truck slowed to a stop. The driver shut off the lights and killed the engine. Looking back through the window to the two Turks in the cargo, she explained, “We’ll go by foot from here. It’s not far, but the encampment has to remain hidden. Just bear with it.”

“That’s fine,” replied Emma, sounding more optimistic about the hike than she felt. “More importantly though, you are…?”

The woman climbed out of the truck and slammed the door while Emma and Ruluf exited out the back. Joining them at the tailgate, the woman explained, “Sorry. There hasn’t been any time for introductions. I'm Juget. I’m not officially joining the Turks until tomorrow.”

“Not until tomorrow?” Ruluf asked skeptically.

Juget shrugged. “I live around here. They contacted me while I was on my way to Midgar.”

A cold northern wind had begun to blow, and Emma rubbed her arms briskly, wishing she hadn't left her coat behind in the base.

“You made a really flashy debut,” she complimented their new colleague. “You certainly don't seem like a rookie.”

“It was nothing special,” countered Juget, brushing aside the compliment. “I’m getting paid extra for jumping in like this, so it’s all down to good luck. I’ve been a mercenary until now. So I’m used to this.”

Noticing Emma's discomfort, Juget offered her her gloves. “The encampment is just over that hill. Think you can make it?”

Emma nodded as she accepted the gloves. “Of course.”

- -

[Shinra Conference Room]

President Shinra drummed his fingers impatiently on the table in front of him. Waiting was not one of his strong suits.

“Verdot, anything new regarding that enemy base?” he asked curtly.

“Yes,” the leader of the Turk replied. “Judging by the results of the investigation, it’s a highly important facility. This is the place we want.”

“All right, then,” the President ordered. “Send in Sephiroth.”

“Sephiroth is currently away on another mission,” Verdot informed him.

“Hmmm,” President Shinra's hum sounded more like a growl this time. “Then send out another SOLDIER. What about Zack Fair?”

Veld cast him a sideways glance. “Zack is also away,” he announced.

President Shinra’s fist came crashing down on the conference table. “I don’t care,” he bellowed. “This is just as important. Get Zack over there!”

Veld nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”

“Verdot,” the President said, rising from his chair. “Tell the army this, and tell them well. This battle will be the most important one that any of them will fight. I don’t care what they have to do; I want that base destroyed at any cost!”

Chapter 27: 8: A Light That Penetrates Through the Darkness, part 1

[16 January 0002 11:00AM]

[Icicle Inn]

Three kilometers north of Icicle Inn, two squadrons of infantrymen stood at attention in perfectly aligned rows. The perpetual snowfall had left a dusting on their helmets and shoulders. The snow on the ground around them was packed down by the hundreds of boot treads that had been crisscrossing its surface over the last hour. Nearby, two large military trucks with covered cargo beds idled noisily. At the head of the strike team stood Sebastian and Essai.

“Is everyone here now?” Essai asked his partner as he looked out over the assembled infantry.

“Looks like. A lot of men for this one, huh?” Sebastian said, slightly taken aback at the size of the team sent to them for the operation.

Essai laughed at his friend's amusement. “The President is dead serious about this one.”

“Yeah,” he agreed grimly. “Failure’s not an option.”

Essai pounded a fist into his palm. “We’re going to destroy that base, no matter what.”

Emma listened in on the last of their conversation as she disconnected a call and returned to the group. She smiled at the SOLDIERs' enthusiasm. They appeared no worse for wear given their recent ordeal. There was no doubt that they were as motivated as anyone to destroy the base. She greeted them as she approached, genuinely glad to see that they had made a full recovery so quickly.

“Wait a minute,” she said, looking around. “Where’s the other SOLIDER operative they dispatched?”

Essai and Sebastian looked at each other and exchanged knowing smiles.

Sebastian told her confidently, “Don’t worry about him.”

“He’s probably here already,” Essai added, walking over to one of the idling trucks. He paused by the tailgate and listened. A smile split his face and, without warning, he began beating on the side of the truck with the flat of his hand. “Hey! Wake up!” he shouted. “You planning to sleep forever?”

“Hnh?” A groggy, confused grumble drifted out of the cargo bin followed by the exclamation, “Whoa! Hey! I'm coming!”

A moment later, SOLDIER 1st Class Zack Fair emerged from over the tailgate and dropped down a little unsteadily in the snow. The deep drift he had landed in reached above his boots, but if it bothered him, he showed no sign of it. Turning a tight circle, he surveyed the area until he sighted Essai leaning against the side of the truck, watching him with amusement.

“It’s been a while,” the other SOLDIER greeted him.

“Essai!” Zack shouted. “Long time no see!”

“How was your nap?” Essai asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not half bad,” Zack answered, swinging his arms and rolling the kinks from his neck. “You guys were taking so long. I got tired of waiting and fell asleep. So everyone’s finally here.”

Emma stood watching his display with crossed arms and a raised eyebrow. “So,” she said, speaking up and interrupting the SOLDIERs' reunion. “You’re the other SOLDIER operative they dispatched?”

At the sound of her voice, Zack turned to face the Turk, his face breaking into a grin. “That’s right,” he said, leaning towards her and tapping his chest proudly with a hitched thumb. “The name’s Zack. And you are?”

Emma tried not to smile at his charm, but found it difficult. “Emma,” she introduced herself. “I’m from the Turks. Nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure's all mine,” the SOLDIER insisted with a boyish grin.

“Hmmhm,” Sebastian cleared his throat and clapped a firm hand on Zack's shoulder. “With Zack here, everything will be just fine. This mission’s going to be a cinch.”

“Is that so, Sebastian?” Zack turned to face him. “This mission won’t be a success just because I’m here. It’s everyone’s efforts that are going to make that happen.”

Essai smiled at his friend's valiant optimism and turned a knowing look to the Turk. “That’s Zack for you,” he drawled.

But Zack wasn't done. “And we’re all going to come back here alive!” he declared, looking each of them in the eye.

“Heh! Damn right!” Sebastian shouted, catching some of Zack's fervor. “There’s nothing we can’t take on with three SOLDIERs here.”

“All right!” Zack announced waving to the troops. “We’re rolling out!”

With military precision, the rows of infantrymen moved towards the waiting trucks and evenly dispersed themselves between the two of them. One by one the men entered the dark cavity of the cargo hold and found a seat on the benches lining each side. When the seats filled, the remaining men stood in the space between. Zack waited by tailgate, offering the men words of encouragement and a few fist bumps as each climbed inside. When everyone was accounted for, he raised the tailgate and slammed it shut as the last of the men found their places.

Emma stood with Sebastian at the back of the second truck, watching the procedure as Zack directed the troops with the ease and familiarity of a seasoned veteran.

“Well?” Sebastian asked her. “What do you think?”

“Is he really SOLDIER?” she asked, remembering his less than dramatic entrance.

“One of the best,” he insisted. “You’ll see once you’ve spent some time with him.”

When the last of the infantrymen had boarded the trucks, he directed the Turk towards the cab of their vehicle as he secured the back. The SOLDIER then slid behind the wheel and slammed his door as the Turk climbed in on the other side. He looked over at the other truck. Zack joined Essai in the cab and turned to shoot Sebastian a thumbs up. Sebastian returned the signal and grabbed the stick to shift his idling truck into gear.

The four-wheel drive military-grade trucks lurched forward and plowed effortlessly through the thick snow blanket, kicking up a spray of fine snow from their tires. The Turk watched out the window as the winter scenery blurred past. They were taking a different route than she had going to the base, but even so, she probably wouldn't have recognized the surroundings. The wind and new snowfall had no doubt transformed the landscape overnight. As the path they were following began too narrow, Sebastian revved his engine and pulled past the other truck to take the lead. Ahead, the road narrowed even more as it approached a wooden bridge spanning a deep ravine.

Sebastian let off the gas and allowed the truck to coast to a stop as he down shifted. He could hear the second truck do the same behind them. Leaning forward over the steering wheel he squinted past the constant motion of the windshield wipers to study the structure. A fine dusting of snow blew across the rough-hewn planks. The man frowned as he tried to determine the safety of it. He reached under the dash for the truck radio and pressed the call button.

“This bridge looks pretty old,” he reported.

A short spurt of static from the other end was quickly followed by Essai's agreement, “It’ll be impossible for both trucks to cross at once.”

“We’ll have to cross it one at a time then,” the Turk ordered, knowing the Chief would want her to keep the operation moving forward.

Sebastian shifted gears and let his truck begin to roll forward.

“Wait,” Emma said. She leaned forward to look out the windshield, then her passenger-side window as she took up the radio. “If AVALANCHE suspects we're coming, this would be a good place to ambush us. I'm going to get out and stand guard. You hurry on ahead.”

“All right. Good idea,” Zack's voice crackled from the other truck. “Essai, you help her guard the second truck.”

“Got it,” she could hear Essai's voice in the background accompanied by the squeaky hinge of a truck door.

“Sebastian, you’re in charge of your truck,” Zack ordered.

“Leave it to me,” Sebastian assured him as he took back the radio before returning it to its port.

Emma pushed open her door and hopped down from the truck.

“Emma.” She looked back to see Sebastian leaning across the bench, arm outstretched. “Take this extra radio.”

“Thanks,” she said, reaching back inside for the offering. Slamming the truck door, she clipped the radio to her belt and jogged towards the back of the second truck. She looked up at the cab as she passed by and saw Zack flash her a confident smile and a thumbs up. She returned the positive signal and joined Essai at the rear.

“I'll go first,” Zack radioed up to Sebastian as he maneuvered his truck around the other on the narrow road and began to let it slowly roll onto the wooden structure.

Essai and Emma followed Zack's truck to the edge of the bridge and took up positions on either side. Emma's eyes scanned the hills and trees dotting the landscape as she listened to the heavy truck rolling onto the bridge. The old wooden beams creaked under the weight, but ultimately held steady. Sebastian pulled his truck up to the edge of the bridge next and let it idle between Emma and Essai. The windblown snow obscured the far end of the bridge, and Zack's truck soon disappeared from sight. Emma glanced up to the cab to see Sebastian leaning anxiously over the steering wheel, radio in hand, waiting to hear word from Zack. Through the closed door of the truck, she could hear a burst of static and saw Sebastian hold the radio closer to his face.

She could barely make out Zack's voice through the closed door, “The first truck is almost there!”

A minute later, Zack called again, “Send over the second one!”

Sebastian shifted the truck into gear and lightly stepped on the accelerator. The heavy machinery rolled onto the bridge, following in the tracks of the first truck. Emma took one more glance around and nodded to Essai to follow after the truck. She divided her attention between watching the truck and watching the road behind them. When Essai and the truck were about halfway across, she left her post and started after them. Ten feet in she felt a sickening lurch accompanied by a loud crack. Looking up, she saw Essai lunge for and grab hold of the truck. When he was steady, he turned to look for her. Spotting her near the foot of the bridge, he abandoned the truck and headed back for her.

“Go!” she shouted, waving for him to leave her and continue onward.

She saw a flicker of hesitation twitch through him, before obeying her order and turning back to the truck. Jumping onto the side running board, he pounded on the driver’s side window and shouted for Sebastian to step on it. Looking back one more time at the Turk as the truck dared to accelerate, he pointed towards her and shouted. Emma stared after them but could not make out his words through the howling wind. Suddenly a spray of snow and wood chips erupted to her right. Covering her head, she dived to the opposite side of the bridge. Laying sprawled in the snow, she looked back and saw a small squadron of three AVALANCHE troops closing in on the bridge. One had an assault rifle aimed her way. The other two held the leashes of large black guard hounds. The beasts bayed and lunged at the end of their restraints.

Scurrying to her feet, Emma took off running as she shouted into her radio, “We’ve got trouble!”

“Emma!” she heard Zack's voice on the radio. “Hold on! I’m coming!”

“No! I've got it!” she called back, drawing her pistol from her jacket.

She got off one shot, taking out the rifleman, before the bridge lurched a second time and knocked her off her feet. She tumbled and sat up, looking back down the bridge. The enemy troops had unleashed their hounds, and the beasts were bounding towards her.

“Emma, both of the trucks have made it across. You get over here fast, too!” Zack insisted.

She looked up the bridge and could see him standing at the end, radio in hand, waving at her to hurry. Jumping to her feet, she broke into a dead sprint, no longer concerned about the integrity of the bridge. Behind her, she could hear the panting of the hounds gaining on her, but she didn't dare look back.

“The bridge won’t hold much longer! Hurry!” she could hear Zack's voice, almost panicked coming from the radio in her hand.

The bridge lurched again beneath her feet and the whole structure started to shake. She stumbled, trying to keep her footing. Then she heard a yelp from one of the hounds behind her as the sound of wood splintering erupted all around her.

“Emma!”

Zack had run out onto the bridge. Before she could order him back, he was at her side. Another violent shake hit the structure, and she grabbed hold of him for support. Then, with one last shudder, the center of the bridge gave way. Splintered wooden beams dropped out from beneath their feet, and together, they plummeted down through the icy air towards the bottom of the ravine below.

- -

Zack pushed aside a large wooden beam that had landed across his chest and sat up. Taking in a deep breath, he rolled over onto this stomach and began crawling through the thick snow. Pieces of splintered wood and debris littered the ground all around him. Climbing to his feet, he lifted his arm to shield his face from the biting wind whistling through the narrow canyon and staggered forward.

“Emma!” he called for the Turk, scanning the snow for any sign of her.

A short distance away, he spotted her lying face down. He scrambled over the piles of loose snow, nearly falling down face first himself in his haste to reach her. Tripping over a buried board, he hit his knees and crawled the last couple of feet to the Turk's unmoving form. Leaning over her, he grabbed hold of her shoulder and pulled her over onto her back. She didn't stir. Cradling her head in one arm, he gently brushed the snow off her pale face and hair.

“Hey! Emma! Time to wake up!” he chided, gently rocking her. His eyes scanned her face for signs of consciousness. “Come on!” he shouted louder.

Her brow finally wrinkled, and her eyes squeezed shut tighter before fluttering open. They wandered her field of vision before settling on Zack's face leaning over her.

“Hey, you all right?” he was asking her.

She moaned as she pushed herself out of his arms and up into a sitting position. “I’m fine,” she ground out, putting a hand to her cold face and massaging her throbbing temples. “Don’t worry about me.”

Beside her, Zack jumped to his feet and offered her a hand up. “That’s a relief,” he said, sounding genuinely so. “For a second there, I thought you were a goner. It’s a good thing you’re tough.”

“Of course,” she countered and tried to smile.

She took his hand, and he pulled her up. The sudden change in altitude made her dizzy, and she had to hold on to him for a moment until she regained her balance. Daring to look up, she could see what was left of the bridge high above them. She wondered how long she had been out of it and whether the rest of the team was okay.

“It looks like we’ve been separated from the main force,” she observed.

“Well, it’ll work out somehow,” the SOLDIER said optimistically. “Let’s catch up with them.”

He pointed her towards a narrow ledge that meandered in and out of the side of the cliff.

“That should take us back up,” he said, studying the intensive path optimistically.

The Turk was less zealous about the trek, but was determined not to show it. “Lead the way,” she told him with feigned enthusiasm.

Zack laughed. “That's the spirit!” he congratulated her and set off towards the opening at the base of the cliff.

Inside, the tunnel was lined with ice. On the ceiling, long stalactites of ice shimmered and cast sparkles of light on the floor and walls. The tunnel only extended a short way before emerging out the side of the cliff as a narrow ledge. The incoming sunlight made the dark interior of the tunnel dazzle.He led her through the tunnel and out onto the ledge. He went first, testing each step before committing his full weight onto any part of the walkway. Overhead, a small icicle broke loose and fell to the ledge between them. The shard shattered into hundreds of tiny shimmering crystals. Two more icicles joined the first before they reached the next tunnel.

“This is no ordinary walk in the park…” the SOLDIER observed. “Icicles falling all over the place…” he stole a look back at the Turk following closely behind. She seemed to be doing just fine. He continued on.

The going was slow as the path meandered back and forth up the cliff side. The longer the trek took, the more her thoughts turned back towards the mission. She couldn't shake the feeling that this side trip was taking too long. She took out her phone. She should've called in the interruption to Tseng. She pressed the call button, but nothing happened. She tried again, but realized she wasn't able to get a signal from inside the cliff. Zack saw her put the phone away, a look of disappointment on her face.

“I should let the Chief know about this development, but I can't get a signal,” she explained when she noticed him watching.

“Oh,” he said, then asked, “So, what kind of work do the Turks normally do?”

She thought about it before answering, “All kinds of things. Most are confidential, though.”

“Ahh,” Zack said amused. “Do you like it?”

“Well, the excitement never ends,” she admitted.

“Is that so…” a smile lit the SOLDIER's face. “Then maybe I should sign myself up.”

Emma laughed at the thought. “What about SOLDIER? What do you do?”

“This and that,” Zack said. “Lots of missions like this one that require a little extra muscle.” He flexed a bicep to demonstrate his point.

“Speaking of the mission, how much farther do you think we have to go?” she asked, ignoring his antics and worrying once again about the rest of the team.

“I’m not sure. But they’ll be all right,” said Zack confidently. “Essai and Sebastian are there. They’re strong and reliable guys. They’ll probably be done with the mission by the time we catch up to them.”

“You seem to get along well,” Emma said, admiring their camaraderie. “Are you guys friends?”

Zack put his hands behind his head, reminiscing on a past assignment. “We’ve been on a mission together once before,” he remembered.

“Only once?” she asked incredulously, doubting how it was they could seem so close.

“That’s enough, isn’t it?” Zack asked, not seeing the problem with it. “Time doesn’t matter when it comes to making friends.”

Up ahead, the tunnel widened into a larger chamber. Moisture glistened on the walls and small frozen puddles dotted the floor. More icicles clung to the ceiling, occasionally dripping down onto the puddles below. As they entered, Zack's steps slowed, and Emma nearly bumped into him.

“What’s wrong, Zack?” she asked looking past him. “Why so quiet all of a sudden?”

He held up a hand as he tried to listen. “There’s something out there… Can’t you feel it?” he asked, sounding serious for once. “This sense I’m getting…”

Emma looked around warily, and rested a hand on her weapon. The fact that the SOLDIER was uneasy made her doubly so.

“We’re almost there,” Zack said encouragingly, shaking off the feeling and taking up the pace again as they crossed the chamber. “Don’t let your guard down–”

A gravelly snarl, followed by a series of yelps and barks erupted from the tunnel ahead.

“Get ready!” Zack ordered.

Four of AVALANCHE's guard hounds bounded into the room. The beasts trotted an ever tightening circle around them, snarling and snapping their jaws as they inched closer. The SOLDIER and the Turk turned back-to-back as they watched the circling hounds. Emma had her rod drawn and ready. She activated the electric-shock feature.

“Here, doggie, doggie! Here!” she heard Zack cooing behind her. “Let’s do this the nice way.”

She wasn't sure what he meant by nice, but she wasn't about to take any chances. One of the hounds lunged at her, and she swung her weapon with precision. The baton swatted the animal across the nose, delivering a low voltage shock as it made contact. With a yelp, the hound hit the ground tumbling. Before the other had a chance to attack, the Turk took the offensive and beat the other hound over the head with a similar shock. The two beasts scurried over each other and took off back up the tunnel whimpering with their tails tucked.

The Turk then whirled around to locate the other two. Zack should have taken care of them by now. When she looked behind her, she saw Zack had backed up to the wall of the tunnel. The two remaining hounds lunged in and out towards him, snapping their jaws. The SOLDIER hadn't even drawn his sword yet.

“Zack!” she shouted, confused about what to do.

As she watched, she could see his lips moving, speaking too quietly for her to hear. The snarling hounds kept inching closer to the SOLDIER until they were within striking distance.

Finally, in a deep commanding voice, Zack shouted, “Stay back!”

In unison, the hounds dropped their heads and tails and slunk down onto the ground with quiet whimpers. Zack held a steady hand out to them as he stepped forward and knelt down in front of them. One hound rolled over on its side and the other's tail began to wag as Zack ruffled their ears and rubbed their bellies. The Turk watched the scene in amazement.

“Go home to your friends now,” Zack said, standing up.

The two hounds jumped to their feet and ran bounding back up the tunnel.

“Why didn’t you just kill them?” the Turk asked as she watched them leave.

“There was no need to,” Zack answered quietly. “I’m not going to kill anything if I don’t have to. That’s all.” He paused a moment, then seemed to remember, “Well, everyone’s waiting. Let’s get moving.”

“Right,” the Turk nodded.

They followed the hounds out of the tunnel on the other end of the chamber. It ended in a short flight of rudimentary stairs that ended in daylight.

“Look!” Zack shouted triumphantly. “It’s the exit!”

“Finally, we can get out of here!” the Turks aid with relief and slipped past him. “Let’s hurry. I want to catch up with the team.”

- -

The two Shinra trucks labored on through the fresh snowfall. Essai had taken the wheel of Zack's truck and followed Sebastian. The two SOLDIERs had radioed back and forth a couple of times since crossing the bridge. Both were concerned about their fellow SOLDIER, but neither voiced their concern out loud. They were used to high-stakes missions. When things didn't go according to plan, you had to move on anyway. Personal relationships couldn't get in the way. So they drove on without hesitating. They couldn't spend precious time looking for Zack and the Turk.

Ahead of Essai, Sebastian's brake lights flashed a brilliant red as the truck came to an abrupt halt. Essai braked his vehicle as well.

“There’s a fallen tree blocking the path!” Sebastian shouted back over the radio.

“We won’t be able to get past it like this,” Essai answered him before putting his truck in park and getting out.

Sebastian jumped down from his vehicle and followed Essai to the large tree spanning the width of the road. Thick woods flanked both sides of the route; going around was not an option. The trunk looked old and rotted, but was still too large to move with the trucks. Sebastian pounded it with his fist and swore under his breath.

“We have no choice but to walk from here,” he declared with little enthusiasm.

Essai agreed, knowing there was nothing else they could do about it. Walking back to the trucks, he pounded on the metal sides as he passed by, rousing the infantrymen inside.

“All right, everyone!” he announced. “Off the trucks!”

The backs of both trucks burst open, and the men poured out. A few waited to help carry out larger equipment while most of them gathered between the trucks and the fallen tree. Essai and Sebastian stood next to the fallen trunk, examining a map and determining their new plan of approach. Essai's head jerked up from the map and he held up a hand, requesting silence.

Sebastian looked to his comrade. “What is it?” he whispered.

A twig snapped in the trees on the right side of the road, followed by a short burst of gunfire. The infantryman nearest the tree line dropped limply into the snow as a row of AVALANCHE troops emerged from the trees.

“What the–!?” Sebastian grasped for answers. “AVALANCHE!”

“Everyone–!” Essai began shouting orders.

“An ambush!” Sebastian yelled over him.

Another line of AVALANCHE troops emerged from the trees on the other side the road. Both sides opened fire, raining gunfire down like hail onto the infantrymen on the road between them. The men caught in the crossfire screamed. Some managed to get their rifles up and return a few bullets before being cut down. In a span of thirty seconds, every infantryman was lying dead in the road. The snow was marbled with crimson.

The two SOLDIERs, with swords now drawn, had been spared the bullets. With twenty or so rifles now trained on them, they dared not make a move. They watched the enemy line part as a soldier in black came forward with sword drawn. He locked eyes with Essai and smiled an unfriendly smile.

The SOLDIER’s eyes widened in unwelcome recognition. “Y-You!?” he stammered.

The Raven strode closer, laughing at their uneasiness.

Sebastian recognized him too. “You again!” he growled. “You’ve got guts to come down here all by yourself!”

“Cool it, Sebastian,” Essai warned his comrade. “You remember how strong this guy is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he answered angrily. “Let’s get him, Essai!”

The two SOLDIERs raised their weapons and rushed the man in unison. The Raven raised his sword faster than either of them thought possible. Before they could correct their positions, the Raven dropped to his knees and slashed upward with his sword as the SOLDIERs came down on him. When they hit the ground – one on either side of him – they both collapsed face-first into the snow.

Rising up, the Raven wiped his blade through a clean swatch of snow, leaving a bloody streak behind. As he did so, a truck pulled up on the other side of the blockade. Fuhito emerged from the passenger side and signaled to his Raven.

“Kyneugh,” he called. “Bring the SOLIDER back to the base.”

The Raven saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

He knelt next to the two men and effortlessly hefted one onto each shoulder. Carrying them to the fallen tree, he passed them over to troops waiting on the other side. Fuhito watched the procedure with pleasure as the two men were loaded into the back of the truck. When he looked back, he saw Kyneugh vaulting over the log, coming to join them.

“What’s this?” he asked his soldier. “There are only two of them. I had heard that there would be three.” He paused to consider the change in plans. His eyes quickly scanned the bodies of the infantrymen for signs of his missing SOLDIER among them, but came up empty handed. “Well, no matter,” he finally concluded. Shrugging the matter aside, he stepped around to the back of the truck and climbed inside to begin making the necessary preparations on his two prizes.

- -

Back at base, Fuhito had the two men returned to the capsule room where he placed momentarily on gurneys while new tanks were prepared for their occupants. In the interim, the scientist performed a quick examination of the two men, noting the placement of their injuries and undetectable vitals. He leaned over the second one and readjusted the glasses on the tip of his nose. When he straightened back up, a pleased smile formed on his lips. All was going according to plan. He turned to leave.

“Kyneugh,” he ordered. “Be a dear and put these two inside the capsules.”

The Raven nodded obediently. “Yes, sir.”

Fuhito looked down at the two SOLDIERs and smiled sadistically. “This should bring the other one here.”

* * *

Zack and Emma reached the main road and turned north. The trucks' tire tracks were still easy to follow in the fresh snow. The snow was packed down firm where the tires had passed over it and traveling in the tracks was easy going. Desperate to make up for lost time, they took up a quick jog. About a mile up the road, trees began to encroach on either side and obscure the path ahead. Zack slowed to a stop and listened. They could hear idling truck engines up ahead. Zack flashed the Turk a smile and pumped a fist in victory.

“See, I knew we'd catch up,” he boasted. “No sweat.”

Emma was breathing too hard to reply but managed to return the smile. Relaxing their pace, they walked the rest of the way. The sound of the truck engines grew louder as they neared a bend in the road. Around the curve they came up on the two trucks parked side by side, plumes of vapor rising steadily from their hot exhaust pipes.

As they drew nearer, Zack looked past the trucks and immediately sensed something was wrong. Breaking into a dead sprint, he raced the last few yards to the front of the trucks and pulled up to an abrupt halt. A hand flew unbidden to his mouth as he stared in disbelief at the bloody scene covering the road between the trucks and the fallen tree.

“What the hell!?” he shouted, his voice on the edge of cracking.

The Turk arrived seconds behind him. She gasped when she got there, and covered her mouth with both hands, feeling suddenly nauseated. Bodies of dozens of infantrymen laid scattered across the road, and the snow was doused with a sickly crimson hue. She stumbled over to one of the trucks and leaned against it, feeling faint. An infantryman sat leaning against its front tire. His helmet was cracked and his scarf was soaked with blood. But a cloud of warm breath escaped his parted lips into the icy air. Emma dropped to her knees next to the wounded man.

“Are you all right?” she gasped. “What happened here?”

The man groaned loudly. “Some AVALANCHE guy in black…” he paused to hitch in a ragged breath. “We were ambushed….”

When Zack saw them, he ran over and dropped to his knees next to the Turk. He reached a shaking hand out to the injured infantryman.

“It was those Ravens again!” Emma told Zack.

“Where are Essai and Sebastian?” Zack asked the trooper.

“AVALANCHE… Took them…” the man's voice drifted off and his chin dropped to his chest. He was gone.

“Damn it,” Zack cursed solemnly, shaking his head.

For a minute, he and the Turk sat in silence next to the infantryman. Zack’s eyes stared numbly into the blinding white field of snow at his knees. Then, slowly, his limp hands began to curl into tight fists on his lap. Leaping to his feet, the SOLDIER took off striding up the road towards the barricade.

“Zack!” the Turk scrambled to her feet and went after him. “Where are you going?”

“It should be obvious,” he answered without looking back. “I’m following the tracks. I’m getting them back, no matter what!”

He reached the fallen tree and vaulted over it effortlessly. He hit the ground on the other side running and took off without looking back.

“Zack!” the Turk reached the tree and watched him disappear over a rise in the road.

Left alone, she turned back to the massacre behind her. Shutting her eyes, she pressed her back firmly against the rough bark of the fallen tree. Swallowing down the constriction in her throat, she took a deep breath, pulled out her phone, and called the Chief.

“Reporting in, sir… The Icicle Inn force… All troops have been taken out.”

“What!?” Verdot exclaimed. “What about SOLDIER?”

“It seems that they were ambushed by Ravens,” she reported solemnly.

“Ambushed, you say,” the Chief mused as his mind raced for answers. I knew it… Is there a leak…? But only the executives knew the details of this operation…

“Sebastian and Essai were captured,” Emma continued, drawing his attention back to the ordeal at hand. “Zack has gone after them.”

“Go after Zack,” he ordered her.

She looked back in the direction Zack had gone and nodded slowly. “Understood.”

Chapter 28: 8: A Light That Penetrates Through the Darkness, part 2

The Turk scanned the hallway below before dropping down in a silent crouch. She tip-toed to the corner and peered around. That hallway was empty as well.

“Sir,” she said raising her radio, “I have arrived at the base.”

“Your status?” he asked.

She cast another glance up and down the two corridors before answering, “Everything’s quiet.”

“Check the capsule room,” Verdot instructed. “There’s a chance that they’ve been taken there again.”

“Understood.”

Retracing her steps from her previous visit, she navigated two other hallways without incident. There was still no sign of AVALANCHE. She had hoped she would've caught up with Zack by now, but she had yet to see any trace of him either. The emptiness was starting to unnerve her. She checked one last corner, then entered the hall with the capsule room. She sprinted to the door. It was still unlocked. Uncertain of what she would find inside, she took a deep breath and slid the door open.

The room looked just like she had remembered it. Even the tanks she had broken earlier appeared to be as good as new. It was as if she had never been there before. In the two center capsules, she saw Essai and Sebastian immersed once again. Feeling a little deja vu, she cautiously made her way across the room towards them. She couldn't believe she had beaten Zack there. She reached the capsules and looked again at the two men inside. There was no mistaking it was them again.

“It’s them,” she said under her breath with a sigh. “Thank goodness… They seem to be all right.”

Wasting no time, she rammed the butt of her EMR into each tank, shattering the glass once more and spilling their contents. With a moan, Essai slumped forward and fell to the floor, splashing in the puddle that had formed in front of his capsule. To his left, Sebastian did the same.

The Turk ran around to kneel on the floor in front of them, taking each man by the shoulder. “Essai! Sebastian! Wake up!” she urged them with a gentle shake. “Come on, snap out of it.”

Silently, both men pushed themselves up to their knees, then got quickly to their feet without so much as a moan. Emma rose with them and reached out to steady Sebastian as he swayed on his feet. With a surprising show of strength, he violently shoved her off. She staggered back, watching with shock as the two SOLDIERs drew their swords and began striding towards her.

“Hey, stop it! It’s me!” she shouted, holding her rod out towards the advancing men. But they ignored her.

Essai lunged first, swinging his weapon down on her. She blocked the strike with her rod, but the blow knocked her back and she struggled to maintain her footing on the wet floor.

“Stop!” she pleaded with them again. “What’s going on here? What did they do to you!?”

Behind her, she heard footsteps run into the room, but she didn't dare take her eyes off of the advancing SOLDIERs. She'd rather have an AVALANCHE trooper at her back than them.

“Emma!”

“Zack!” she gasped, relieved.

He ran to her side and moved between her and the other SOLDIERs.

“I’ll take care of this!” he told her, then turned his attention to his friends. He studied them critically. “What? You guys!? Essai… Sebastian…?”

Essai and Sebastian continued towards them unflinching and without a shred of recognition. In unison, they raised their swords and brought them to bear on Zack. At the last possible second, Zack pulled the Buster Sword from his back and braced it overhead, deflecting the two blows. He grunted under the strength of the two SOLDIERs leaning into their swords.

“Zack!” Emma cried.

“Stay back!” he ordered through gritted teeth. “I’m all right.”

“But…” she protested, not knowing what else to do.

With a shout, Zack flung the two SOLDIERs off and stepped back.

“Essai! Sebastian!” he pleaded.

An eerie laugh escaped from their lips as the two SOLDIERs lifted their swords and started back towards him again.

“Don’t you recognize me? It’s me… Zack,” he begged, his voice full of desperation as he looked from one man to the other.

Essai thrust his weapon at Zack's stomach as Sebastian sliced at his throat. Without raising his weapon, Zack leapt back out of their reach.

“Zack! You’ve got to fight back!” the Turk ordered him. “It’s too late for them. They’re–”

The two SOLDIERs were laughing again.

“Shut up!” Zack screamed at the top of his lungs.

The room fell silent and time seemed to slow. Four hearts beat erratically. The sound of ragged, uneven breathing filled the room. Zack shut his eyes and bowed his head.

“I’m… happy… that the two of you are still alive,” he said quietly. Opening his eyes, he looked up again and took a step towards his comrades. “Come on, Essai! Sebastian! Try to remember!” he begged.

The two SOLDIERs stood staring at Zack. Then, they started to sway on their feet. A deep, guttural moan escaped them both before they suddenly dropped to their knees and fell to the floor face down. Without the slightest scrap of caution, Zack rushed to their sides and knelt on the floor between them. He slowly put a hand on each one's shoulder and gave them a rough shake.

“Get it together you two!” he ordered gently.

On his left, Sebastian mumbled, “Zack…”

Zack rolled the man over on his back so that he could see his face. “What’s wrong? Sebastian?”

The SOLDIER smiled up at him, though his eyes were empty. “It’s… been… fun…” he rasped.

“And that’s how it’s going to stay,” Zack tried to assure him with his usual positivity. “There’s still lots more fun to be had…”

To his right, the other SOLDIER whispered, “Zack…”

Zack turned to the other man and helped him onto his back too. “Essai. Let’s get you up, ok?”

Essai reached a gloved hand towards him. Zack took the hand in his and clasped it firmly. Essai tried to smile. “I’m glad… That we got to talk… One last time…”

Zack shook his head vehemently. “Don’t say that!” he ordered.

Then the hand in his grasp loosened its grip, and the man's chest went still. Zack's chin dropped to his chest as he clenched his eyes shut. A shudder shook his shoulders as he fought back his emotions.

Suddenly, the blare of a siren blasted through the hallway outside and a series of flashing red lights flooded the room.

Self-destruct system activated.

The Turk jerked to attention at the wail of the siren, and ran to the doorway. The halls were still empty.

“Self-destruct? It was a trap! That’s why the base was empty,” she said looking back at Zack.

He was still sitting between his two comrades with his eyes closed. He hadn't even flinched when the alarm sounded. He acted oblivious.

“Zack!” she shouted, running back towards him. “We need to get out of here!”

He opened his eyes, but remained unmoving, silent.

“Zack!”

“Sorry, Emma,” he said without looking up. “You go ahead.”

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Zack!”

“I’m going to stay here a little longer,” he answered quietly.

“Zack…” she studied the broken man before her. He was crushed. Totally and completely. She could tell arguing would get her nowhere and gave in. “I understand.” Turning away, she headed out the door. At the doorway, she paused with her hand on the frame and looked back one more time. “Zack…”

He raised his head to look at her.

“Please get out of here quickly,” she implored him, then ran out of the room.

Zack stared down at his hands, palms up in his lap. Clenching them into fists, he growled and pounded them against his thighs. Then, jumping to his feet, he spun around to face the capsules, his friends' prisons.

“Come out already,” he called. “I know you’ve been there all along.”

In response, a string of laughter floated out from behind the capsules, followed by the Raven Kyneugh. The man stepped around the mess of broken glass and pooling liquid surrounding the shattered capsules. He stopped in front of them and faced Zack stoically.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Zack asked accusingly, his anger rising. “You did this to them!”

A smile lifted the corners of the Raven's mouth. “Death to Shinra,” he chanted.

“Answer me!” Zack growled.

“Death to Shinra,” he said again mechanically.

Zack studied the man before him and felt his anger begin to subside. “You’re just like them, aren’t you? Could it be that you’ve had your humanity taken away too?” he asked.

“Death to Shinra,” he repeated.

“That’s fine with me,” the SOLDIER told him, lifting the buster sword from over his shoulder. “I don’t like killing people. Monsters, on the other hand… They’re a different story.”

In a blur of movement, Zack lunged forward with a shout, leading with his sword. Kyneugh brought his sword up to parry the blow, but it did nothing to slow the advance of Zack's blade. The Raven's own blade shattered as the SOLDIER's sword cut through it and drove into the man's torso, thrusting him back and pinning him against one of the capsules. The tank behind him shattered with the impact, and the man was left slumped over the end of Zack's sword. When the SOLDIER withdrew his weapon, the man fell to the ground at his feet. Leaving him there, Zack turned away and headed for the open doorway. As he crossed the room, he paused next to the bodies of his two friends and fellow SOLDIERs.

“Essai. Sebastian…”

He clenched his eyes shut against the tears that he refused to let fall. How many more friends was he expected to lose? AVALANCHE, Genesis, Hollander. They were the real monsters. All of them. Taking a deep steadying breath, he ran from the room.

- -

The Turk charged around the next corner and slid to an ungraceful halt. A defense mech resembling a miniature tank rolled into the hall ahead of her. Behind her, another mech entered the hall, flanking her. Its barrel rotated to point at the Turk. Before it could fire, it erupted in a shower of sparks as it was cleaved in half. A plume of dark smoke filled the air around it.

“You still here?” a voice called through the haze.

“Zack!” Emma shouted as he ran towards her out of the chaos he had created.

“Follow me,” he ordered, taking her by the arm and pulling her into another corridor as the second mech fired a blast in their direction.

A fireball erupted behind them as they escaped down the hall. Two more mechs entered the path ahead of them. Zack destroyed both with one swing and kept moving forward.

“It’s just a little further!” Zack shouted back at the Turk.

They rounded the next corner and saw the exit looming ahead. Emma pulled past him and reached the door seconds before Zack. She pounded on the sliding doors and hammered the key pad with her fist, but nothing happened.

“That wasn’t half bad,” Zack said joining her.

“This is no time to joke around,” she growled at him, trying not to panic. “The exit is closed. We’re trapped!”

“Is that all you were worried about?” he asked, then waved her aside. “Stand back a little.”

The SOLDIER 1st Class hefted the sword from his back one more time and bore down on the door. With one swing, he cut a wide swath down the center of the barricade. A cold blast of winter air rushed in at them, carrying in a few stray snowflakes with it.

“We’re leaving,” Zack announced. “It’s time to say goodbye to this gloomy joint.”

He climbed through the opening first then reached back to help the Turk through behind him. Together, they ran with all they had left, arms and legs pumping. A low rumble shook the ground, followed by a radiating blast. As the tremor intensified, they dropped into the snow. Rolling on top of the Turk, Zack shielded her from the ensuing blast that ripped through the air overhead. Behind them, the sides of the base bowed out before the roof collapsed in on itself with a horrendous crash. As the air settled around them, Zack removed himself from the Turk and offered her an apologetic smile as he stood up and turned to face what was left of the base.

“That was a close call,” he said, offering his comrade a hand up. “We’re safe, though.”

The Turk took his hand. “Still… a lot of good people died,” she lamented. “we’re not in the clear yet. They knew we were coming. A lot of them got out before the building exploded.

Zack stood staring at smoldering base. “…Emma.”

She took her eyes off of the scene before them and looked up at Zack. “Yes?” she asked. The look on his face was unmistakable. She had never met anyone with so much compassion. It didn’t suit a SOLDIER.

“Can you make it back to base on your own?” he asked her.

“Where are you going?” she returned.

He was quiet for a moment. “…I’m going to stay here a little longer,” he finally answered. “There’s something I have to do.”

She saw the pain in his face and understood. “…Okay,” she conceded.

She put her hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze before leaving him behind. She walked a few steps before turning back.

“Zack,” she said. “It gets awfully cold out here. Make sure you get back before you’re frozen stiff.”

Zack didn't look away from the base, but she saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a half smile and heard him say, “Thank you, Emma.”

- -

Zack stabbed the second sword into the ground at the head of a fresh mound of dirt and snow, and let out a slow, unsteady breath as he closed his eyes. His face and arms were streaked with swaths of black ash and the stench of smoke filled his nostrils. His shoulders sagged, weary. The snow had stopped, but a cold north wind blew in his face. Taking a step back from the graves, he opened his eyes and took in a shallow breath.

“Bye, guys,” he said, then left them with a promise, “I’ll come visit sometime.”

- -

[Shinra Conference Room]

“It looks like this mission was a failure too, Mr. President,” Rufus Shinra told his father after reading the report from Icicle Inn. The younger Shinra sat back deeply in his seat at the opposite end of the conference table, hands folded smugly over his stomach. His father stared back at him with cold eyes, not unlike his own.

“Hmmm…” the President hummed as he looked away, not yet committed to giving his son any sort of answer on the matter.

“I heard that the surprise attack party was ambushed,” Rufus pushed. “SOLDIER members getting kidnapped without any resistance… infantry dropping like flies…” Placing his hands evenly on the table, he leaned forward. His eyes were icy behind the fringe of blond hair covering his forehead. His mouth was hard set in neither a smile nor a frown. “There’s no doubt now that someone is leaking information,” he declared solemnly.

The aristocratic young man then turned his gaze to the Head of the Department of Administrative Research seated halfway down the table to his father’s right. Verdot met his eyes briefly, but remained silent.

Rufus looked back to his father, who had also failed to speak up.“Mr. President, how do you plan to deal with this issue?” he insisted vehemently.

President Shinra took a deep breath and looked down the table at Verdot. “Intelligence management is Verdot’s responsibility…” He paused. Verdot said nothing. Clearing his throat, the President glanced over at his son, who was still staring at him with that unrelenting gaze of his. Fine, he would give the boy what he wanted. “Unfortunately, Veld, you are hereby dismissed as head of the Department of Administrative Research. You will instead be put in charge of surveillance here at Headquarters.”

Verdot rose promptly from the table. Rufus watched him intently from the corner of his eye, but otherwise appeared uninterested in his reaction. In return, Verdot gave the young man no heed, looking only to the President. He offered his employer a curt nod and accepted his orders without argument. “Yes, sir.”

With his dismissal in hand, he left the conference room without so much as a glance at Rufus Shinra as he passed the end of the table where he sulked. He walked briskly to the elevators. The shiny metal doors slid open before him, and he stepped inside. He pressed the button for the Turk floor with a steady hand and watched numbly as the door slid shut.

- -

“Sir, why are you being dismissed!?” Tseng demanded to know, his face flushing with uncharacteristic anger. “Failure of the operation had nothing to do with you!”

Veld had called all of the Turks to the briefing room to fill them in on the recent changes in their administration. Tseng stood at the forefront of the group. The usually well-composed Turk was making no effort to suppress his feelings on the matter.

“It’s what the executives have decided,” Verdot answered him with finality. “We have no choice but to accept it.”

“That’s unreasonable!” Tseng argued, his voice much louder than was necessary.

Verdot abruptly turned away from the congregation and headed for the door without further explanation. Unwilling to let go of his chief, Tseng went after him.

“Sir! Please wait!” he pleaded. “What’s going to become of the Turks?”

Verdot kept walking. Without slowing his stride or looking back, he told him, “I’m leaving the rest to you.”

“Sir!” Tseng tried one more time to get him to stop, but Verdot ignored his pleas.

Stepping through the doorway, he rounded the corner and disappeared from their sight.

Chapter 29: 9: One Step Further Toward Uncertainty, part 1

[January 0002]

[Midgar]

Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Alvis gathered in the conference room as requested. The place was unusually quiet. None of them showed enthusiasm for the current assignment. Unable to take the silence any longer, Alvis finally asked the question that was undoubtedly on every Turk's mind.

“What will become of us now? Can we go on without Chief Verdot?”

“One of the other directors will be taking over,” Reno answered swiftly, looking surprisingly unconcerned as he reclined back in one of the office chairs, hands behind his head and looking as though he was ready for a nap.

“Which one?” Alvis pressed him.

“We’re to follow the orders of whoever is placed in charge of us. That’s all there is to it,” Tseng reminded them sternly, turning away from the wall of monitors to address his comrades. “It does not matter who the one giving our orders is.”

At that moment, the door to the conference room burst open and a dark haired man strode in wearing an olive green military style jacket. He walked with a confident, overbearing demeanor. A thick black mustache and bristly beard added to his harsh countenance. A deep gravelly laugh rolled from his mouth as he entered the room and looked over the four Turks staring back at him.

“Good. You’re all here. From now on, you people will be answering to me,” he informed them, a not so friendly smile curling his lips.

Alvis did not recognize the blowhard addressing them and looked over at Tseng for direction. Tseng stood in the center of the group, arms crossed. He said nothing. Reno leaned over and whispered, “Director Heidegger, head of the military.”

“Things have been out of line here since day one,” the director continued. “And it’s all because your old superior was too lenient. But things are finally going to be kicked into shape, because now the Director of Public Security is in charge!”

Reno and Rude exchanged looks of skepticism. Otherwise, none of the Turks responded to his introduction.

Their silence went unnoticed by Heidegger, who went on, “Well then, these are your orders. AVALANCHE troops are said to be headed for Junon. All of you are to police the city. Report to me at once if you come across anything suspicious. I’ll send in the army to deal with it right away. The army will take care of anything that happens in Junon. But it can’t be deployed unless there’s a reason. I want the army there as soon as possible. You Turks simply can’t compare. And I don’t want to hear any complaining – that’s all you Turks are good for, anyway.”

Alvis leaned over to Reno and whispered, “He's got nothing but the army on the brain, doesn't he?”

Reno gave a snort of disgust in agreement as the man droned on.

* * *

Tseng burst through the door of the surveillance room and strode towards the center of the chamber. A wall of monitors showed various scenes from every sector in Midgar and Junon. One man stood in front of them, hands clasped behind his back, watching scene after scene play out. Tseng stormed up behind him and addressed him angrily.

“Chief Verdot!”

“Tseng, what is it that you want?” the older man answered calmly without turning to face him. He sounded weary. “You shouldn’t be here,” he warned.

“I still won’t accept your dismissal, sir,” Tseng responded, regaining some of his composure in the Chief's presence. “You know just as well as I do that the information leak had nothing to do with you.”

The former chief turned to look at his young predecessor. “But it’s still a fact that there is one. You can’t deny that information is being leaked. The Turks are entrusted with keeping the company’s secret just that – secret. In the event of a leak, I have to be the one to take responsibility.”

“I still can’t accept that, sir!”

Verdot closed his eyes and shook his head as he turned back to the monitors. “Tseng, get back to your post,” he ordered. “I’m no longer in charge of the Turks. I am merely an observer now”

Tseng stood there in silence, studying his mentor and trying to understand his passive acceptance of the situation.

“Sir… Those monitors keep track of everything that goes on in the company,” he finally told his Chief. “Please watch over us.”

Then Tseng left.

* * * * * * *

[1 February 0002] [6:00 PM]

[Junon]

Alvis stormed off the airfield and through the streets of Upper Junon. At the elevators, he forcefully pressed the button for the lower levels and made his way towards the harbor.

The whole way he vented to himself, muttering under his breath, “What’s up with that dumb laugh!? Stupid old geezer! The only thing on his mind is that precious army of his! I just can’t work up any motivation with someone like that as my boss… Chief Verdot… Is he really gone for good?”

He reached the Junon Harbor and paused at the water's edge to collect his thoughts. He, Reno, Rude, and Tseng had been sent to Junon in anticipation of an attack by AVALANCHE. Normally, he would be excited for such a mission, but with the way things were now, he felt lost and unprepared. It was enough to make him want to quit, except that one couldn't just simply quit being a Turk.

With a sigh, he pulled out his phone. It was time to report in to the new “chief”.

“Alvis reporting. I have arrived at the harbor.”

“Oh, you…” Heidegger's voice trailed off.

The Turk fought to maintain his good nature as he repeated, “It’s Alvis.”

“Oh, yes,” Heidegger finally answered, although Alvis doubted he knew who he was. Probably had him confused with Reno. “Patrol the area. Let me know if you see anything unusual. I’ll call for the army when that happens.”

Again with the army!? Alvis pulled the phone away as he swore under breath, but ultimately answered, “Understood, sir.”

* * *

Reno strode casually down the street, twirling his baton as his eyes lazily scanned the sidewalks and alleyways of L-Junon. The city was as quiet as a church mouse. Keeping with protocol, he took out his phone and called Director Heidegger.

“It’s Reno, yo. I’ve reached L-Junon.”

“Patrol the area,” Heidegger said, and added with emphasis, “That’s all.”

Reno stopped in his tracks, halting his baton mid-swing. “Hold on. That’s it?” he demanded.

“Hm? You have any complaints?” the director challenged.

Reno rolled his eyes and resumed twirling his baton. “…Guess not,” he drawled.

“If there’s any trouble, call me immediately so I can release the troops.”

Reno looked down at his phone and shook his head. Can’t do anything about this one, he told himself as he pocketed the phone and went back to his patrol.

* * *

Rude adjusted his glasses as he put in the number for Director Heidegger and reported in.

“Rude here. I’ve reached R-Junon.”

“Patrol the area,” he was told curtly.

Unsure how to respond to such a base assignment, Rude remained silent.

“Hey!” Heidegger's voice blared from the speaker. “Are you listening to me!?”

Rude took a deep steadying breath. “I can hear you,” he managed to say calmly.

“Report to me as soon as you find something,” the Director commanded him.

“…Yes, sir.”

* * *

“Tseng reporting.”

“You are to patrol the branch office perimeter,” Heidegger ordered. “Report to me as soon as you see anything suspicious.”

Tseng stepped out of the Junon office and checked the street in both directions. All was quiet.

“…Understood, sir.”

* * *

At the harbor, Alvis busied himself patrolling the docks, venting as he went. “Why do we have to listen to a boss who doesn’t even care about us!? I just can’t stand to listen to that guy… But I guess I have no choice. If only I–”

He ducked behind a stack of crates and cautiously peered around them. A ship was docked at the next pier; its loading ramp was lowered. Two men stepped off it. They were wearing familiar khaki fatigues.

AVALANCHE troops! He needed to call Heidegger. He reached for his phone, then paused. …Maybe I won’t. There’s no point in telling him. I’ll take care of this myself.

He took another glance around the crates and watched the two men. Their backs were to him as they looked up the ramp towards the ship. He couldn't see any others on board. Another row of crates sat nearby. He darted over to them. Hearing no shouts of alarm, he continued to creep along the length of the crates. At the end of the row, he was directly behind the AVALANCHE troops. On silent feet he tiptoed out from behind the crates, waited until he was as close as he dared to be, then activated the stun setting of his rod. In one smooth motion, he laid the rod across one man's neck and took the second in a choke hold. In seconds, both men fell silently to the ground unconscious.

With the guards out of the way, he turned his attention to the ship. Nothing unusual made it stand out. It appeared to be like any other ship in the harbor. More crates sat ready to unload at the top of the ramp. On them, he could just make out a skull and crossbones emblem.

This must be an AVALANCHE ship, he mused. I had better report this.

Standing over the two incapacitated troopers, he took out his phone and started dialing.

“Calling someone?”

He whirled around and looked up the ramp towards the ship. Three more enemy troops appeared at the top looking down at him. There was no time to hide.

“It’s the Turks!” one of them shouted to the others. “Get him no matter what it takes!”

* * *

Reno answered on the third ring, “What’s up?”

“Reno!” Alvis’s voice shouted breathlessly into the phone. “The harbor is overflowing with AVALANCHE. I need backup.”

“Well…” Reno dragged the word out. “Now’s not a good time. L-Junon is crawling with them too.”

“That means they’ve already made it into the city!” the other Turk said with alarm.

“They’re here!” Reno confirmed to him urgently. “This doesn’t look too good. Alvis, I’ve gotta hang up.”

Reno palmed the phone and spun into an alley just as another wave of AVALANCHE troops turned up the street. Two men were already sprinting towards him. By the time they reached the alley, he was already gone.

* * *

An AVALANCHE fighter collapsed to the ground in a heap next to his companion. Rude carefully adjusted his gloves and then his glasses as he looked down at the two men at his feet.

“There are too many of them,” he mumbled, raising his eyes to scan the street. “…When did they manage to get in here in the first place?”

* * *

Tseng had spent the last ten minutes observing a squad of AVALANCHE soldiers from his hiding place in an alcove alongside the building. They had made several trips transporting supplies to a building about a block up the street. What the supplies consisted of, he could not tell from his position. Without orders to engage, he dared not get closer. He needed instruction. He pulled the phone from his pocket and stared down at it. He had to make the call.

“Chief!” he nearly shouted, relieved that he had picked up. He continued quickly, lest the Chief hang up on him. “You can see what’s going on in Junon on those monitors, can’t you? AVALANCHE has overrun the city.”

The other end of the line was filled with silence. Tseng felt his hope slipping away. He needed new orders from his chief.

“What measures should we take?” he asked, grasping desperately for the sound of his voice.

“…Tseng,” Verdot finally answered. “I told you: I am no longer in charge of the Turks. That’s something you should be asking Heidegger.”

“But, sir!” Tseng was ready to protest. “All he wants to do is play with his troops! They won’t be any good in the current situation. They would only make things worse.”

A soft click cut him off. The next few seconds were filled with silence.

“Sir!" Tseng shouted desperately into the phone. Lowering it from his ear, he stared down at it, feeling hollow and abandoned. He hung up…?

When he looked back down the street, an AVALANCHE trooper was heading his way. He’d been spotted. He angrily shoved the phone back into his pocket and took off up the alley, away from the advancing AVALANCHE fighters.

* * *

Verdot backed away from the surveillance screens and sat down in the chair behind him. Leaning back, he crossed one arm over his stomach and placed the other hand over his face, covering the scar marring his left cheek. Tseng. What was he doing? Why did he have to make this harder for him than it already was? He lowered his hand and looked back up at the monitors.

* * *

Alvis reached the main street in Lower Junon. He had seen no sign of Reno or Rude, but there had been plenty of AVALANCHE troops. He had done his best to avoid as many of them as possible, focusing instead on running. His phone rang shrilly, and he stopped. He was out of breath, but answered anyway.

“Yes?” he panted.

“Fools! Junon is under attack!” Heidegger's voice nearly shook the phone. “I told you to report to me as soon as something turned up!”

“There was no time for that,” the Turk argued. “I–”

Heidegger cut him off. “Thanks to you, we’re in a state of emergency. Get your ass up to the airport – now!”

“The airport?” he dared to ask. “Did something happen?”

“They’re after the airships. Tseng got wind of it,” the director explained. “Get over there and stop them! Now! Kill them all!”

Alvis turned up the street and headed for the elevators. “Wait a minute! What are the other Turks doing? Shouldn’t we coordinate our movements?” he inquired. “What’s our strategy?”

“Just do what you’re told!” Heidegger growled. “All you have to do is get to the airport!”

“Sir, I… Sir? He hung up on me! How touchy can you get?” he mumbled under his breath as he shoved the phone back in his pocket. He was really starting to miss Chief Verdot.

Throwing caution to the wind, he ran for the elevator that would take him back up to the airfield. His presence brought up several cries of alarm as he sprinted past one squad of AVALANCHE troops after another. He couldn't afford to waste time fighting with every single one of them. He had to reach the airport. No matter what.

Alvis tapped his foot impatiently on the seemingly endless elevator ride to the highest level of the terraced city. When the lift finally slowed, he bolted off only to be met by a full-fledged firefight. Junon guards and a few Shinra infantry were thinly scattered about a much larger force of AVALANCHE soldiers all across the airstrip.

“Now what?” he gasped, stunned by the rapid escalation of the situation. I can’t move unless I know what our strategy is. It’s all because of that Heidegger…

“Over there! Get him!”

Alvis jumped back to attention. He didn't have time to fight. He had to reach the airship. He slipped past the first line of enemy troops but was quickly surrounded. He lashed out with his rod and took down two of them, but the others didn't back down.

I can’t handle this by myself, he bemoaned, spotting an opening in their ranks. There are too many of them. Where is everyone? He darted between two of the men and made a beeline for the airship docked at the far end of the landing field.

* * *

An enemy trooper collapsed as the tip of Reno's rod made swift contact with his temple. Straightening his posture, the Turk pushed his goggles further up his forehead and looked across the airstrip.

“What the hell is this?” he growled. He was normally too laid back to get worked up to such levels of anger, but he'd had enough. “What is Heidegger thinking! How could he let it get like this?”

He saw Alvis break from a group of AVALANCHE troops further down the airstrip. He made ready to move to his aid, but was stopped by another squad of troops. They just kept coming out of nowhere. The enemy was innumerable. He clenched his hand into a fist at his side, as his face twisted into a furious scowl.

“They just keep coming,” he seethed in frustration. He didn't like retreating, but he had no choice. The better part of valor is discretion, I guess, he consoled himself. Then, shouting bitter curses at the enemy, he turned and ran.

* * *

Rude looked to his left and watched as Reno began retreating. He never thought he'd see the day that his partner would back down willingly from a fight. But then again, he never thought he'd see a day like this.

This is getting out of hand, he thought, knocking out another AVALANCHE trooper with his fist. He ducked a hook punch from his victim's comrade and retreated a step. Junon will fall at this rate.

* * *

A squadron of AVALANCHE troops marched down the main street of the upper city. As they passed by, Tseng stepped out of the alleyway behind them and watched them advance up the street.

Their numbers are overwhelming, he calculated. Retrieving his phone, he made the call he had been dreading.

“What’s your status?” Heidegger demanded.

“They’ve overrun the city,” Tseng said plainly.

“What did you say!?” the director growled. “Then it’s time to send in the army!”

“Please wait, sir. Bringing in the army at this juncture is too risky. The conflict will only escalate if they’re involved,” the Turk tried to reason with him. “All of Junon might be destroyed.”

“We can always rebuild,” Heidegger retorted without hesitation. “You people go buy some time until the army is ready to mobilize.”

“Sir! How are we supposed to do that?” Tseng argued. “We can’t coordinate if you don’t tell us what you’re trying to do! If–”

Click.

Tseng looked down at the phone, feeling lost. “He hung up…”

* * *

Reno struck down another man in his way. His breathing was excessively labored. He paused to wipe the sweat from his face and looked back at the battlefield. They hadn't been prepared for this, that much was obvious. He hated losing. His chest rose and fell even faster as anger bloomed inside of him. How could Heidegger be so incompetent? Failure would be a fitting end for this joke of a mission.

“Turk.”

Reno spun around, rod raised. An AVALANCHE soldier stood nearby, watching him with crossed arms. The man had the audacity to be smiling.

“This is as far as you go,” he sneered. “How do you like taking orders from Heidegger? Thanks to him, your ranks are in perfect shambles.”

“How did you–?” Reno was speechless as his stomach dropped. Who could have leaked that kind of information!? They really were in trouble.

The man laughed at the astonishment on the Turk's face, before raising his fists to fight.

“Reno, are you okay?” Tseng's voice filled his earpiece.

“Of course,” Reno growled, glaring at the AVALANCHE fighter in front of him.

“They’re sending in the army,” Tseng reported. “We’re to buy time until it arrives.”

“The army!? Why now!?” Reno exclaimed. This mission just kept getting better and better. “What were we all fighting for, then?! Are we just expendable distraction with no other use?”

Tseng disconnected without further comment. Reno's attention returned to the soldier. His eyes narrowed at him in contempt. Someone was going to pay for messing up his organization. And he was going to start with the man in front of him.

Chapter 30: 9: One Step Further Toward Uncertainty, part 2

[Costa Del Sol]

The Shinra issued cell phone chirped annoyingly from the sand under his beach chair. The man tried to ignore it, but curiosity finally got the better of him, and he flipped it open.

“It's me.”

Legend would recognize that deep commanding voice anywhere. The Chief sounded as uptight as always. A brilliant white-toothed smile split his face. “It's been a while, old-timer!”

“Yeah,” Verdot responded with little enthusiasm.

“What’s the matter?” Legend asked with feigned concern. “Not doing too well?”

“I’ve been relieved of my post as the head of the Turks,” Verdot answered him matter-of-factly.

The man couldn't control the sharp burst of laughter that escaped him before responding, “Sounds like things are shaking up over there.” This sounds interesting. I'm glad I picked up, he thought as he reclined back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.

“I have a favor to ask,” Verdot revealed in clipped tones.

“Ol’ man, isn’t this line tapped?” Legend reminded him.

“Of course,” Verdot said, sounding unconcerned. “But the signal is encrypted, so don’t worry.”

“Good. Then ask away.”

He heard Verdot take a deep breath before asking, “Will you return to the Turks?”

The line was silent for several seconds, and Verdot began to think he had hung up on him. Finally, Legend answered, “…I told you back then in the reactor, nothing comes from fighting. Sorry.”

“I guess you’re right,” agreed the Chief with surprising acceptance. “Shinra wanted to bring an end to the long war, that’s why I invited you to join the Turks.”

“The war is over,” Legend reminded him, his voice dropping. “There’s no reason for me to return.”

The Chief's response took him by surprise. “The war’s not over yet.”

Legend removed his sunglasses and scooted to the edge of his chair. “Huh?”

“An anti-Shinra group called AVALANCHE has launched a major offensive,” the Chief explained urgently. “They’re in the middle of destroying Junon as we speak.”

Legend nodded to himself as he took in the situation. “So that’s how it is,” he concluded.

“Things have begun to move again,” Verdot confirmed. “Both the Turks and Shinra need your expertise.”

…Ol’ man… He couldn't believe what he was about to say. “If you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse.”

“Good. I’m counting on you.”

“What’s the situation?”

“Heidegger’s orders are doing more harm than good,” Verdot explained. “At this rate, the citizens of Junon are in danger.”

“You taking charge?” Legend asked it like it was an ultimatum.

“…Even if it costs me my life,” Verdot promised.

“All right, leave the rest to me.”

Legend popped up from his beach chair and started back up the beach, heading north towards the airfield. He was going to need a chopper to get to Junon.

* * * * * * *

[Shinra Building, Midgar]

Enough. Verdot had seen enough. He turned away from the wall of monitors and strode from the surveillance room. At the elevators, he punched the number for President Shinra's office. As the doors slid open, he quickly departed and made his way up the stairs to the presidential suite. Pushing open the doors, he saw the President standing at the large glass pane that was the back wall of his office. The grand view of the city of Midgar beyond his private helipad was awe inspiring to say the least. This time, however, Verdot paid it no mind.

“Mr. President,” he announced as he entered uninvited. “There is something I need to discuss with you.”

He saw the President's back stiffen but otherwise did not appear all that surprised by Verdot's intrusion.

“Verdot, I see,” he said, turning to face him. His face was hard and emotionless. “What is it?”

“You should know better than anyone just how much classified information I carry inside my head. If I was to go public with it, the company would crumble faster than the time it would take for you to blink.” Although his voice carried no threat, his words spoke otherwise.

Turning back to the window, President Shinra continued to act unconcerned. “Are you blackmailing me, Verdot?” he asked casually. “What is it that you want?”

Veld did not hesitate. “Command of the Turks.”

“You are certainly willing to go far for them,” the President commended. “It was for your own good that I relieved you of your post. Is this how you intend to show your gratitude?”

Verdot answered him quickly, “Rest assured. You have nothing to worry about me. Your top secret directive will still be carried out, even if I resume my position with the Turks again.”

The President turned him a sideways glance. “You realize the price of failure? You know too much,” he reminded him.

“I’ve always been prepared for that eventuality,” Verdot assured him.

“… All right… I understand,” the President conceded, turning fully to face him. “If that’s what you really want, then I’ll reinstate you to your position in the Turks.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Verdot graciously, already heading for the door. “I won’t make you regret your decision. I shall see us through this crisis safely.” At the door, he paused to look back. He locked eyes with the President. “The situation is grave,” he warned him. “Please inform Director Heidegger about the change in command.”

* * * * * * *

Alvis staggered across the runway, unable to catch his breath. He looked up and down the airfield. AVALANCHE was everywhere it seemed. The Turks were vastly outnumbered. Maybe they really did need the army.

“Alvis, what’s your status!?” the intercom in his earpiece crackled to life.

That voice? “Sir!?” he asked, unsure.

“Attention, everyone. I have resumed command of the Turks,” Verdot announced. “From now on, you will take your orders from me.”

“Sir!” The voice was Tseng’s. “You’re back…”

“This is no time to be sentimental,” Verdot reprimanded. “Our first priority is to repel the attack on Junon.”

“Yes, sir–”

“Tseng,” he said, cutting him off. “Considering the scale of their assault, it’s strange that no Ravens are present. They may have another plan in motion. It’s imperative that we find out about their movements.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng responded.

“Reno!” Verdot called.

“I hear ya.”

“Head for the control tower,” he ordered. “Get the situation at the airport under control. I’m counting on you to get these as fast as you can.”

“Already on my way, Chief.”

“Rude, you clear the way for Reno. Work as a team,” he directed.

“Will do.”

“Alvis,” Verdot said last. “Clear the AVALANCHE troops aboard the airship. The ship itself is moored at the West Area B-Point. It’s straight back the way you came.”

“Hold on!” Alvis hesitated. “It’s crawling with AVALANCHE troops back there.”

“Don’t worry about that,” the Chief assured him. “Trust me. I’ve already seen to that. Now, everyone, go!”

“Sir!” they all saluted.

Alvis shielded his face against a gust of wind as a lone Shinra chopper skimmed low over the airstrip and set down on the far end near the endangered airship. Finally, some backup, he thought relieved. His spirit rejuvenated, he charged back into the fray towards the airship.

* * *

Legend threw open the door of the chopper and jumped down to the airstrip before the blades had even had time to slow overhead. A soft wind blew locks of hair back from his forehead as he surveyed the scenario from behind his dark glasses. Tossing aside his spent cigarette, he couldn't help but smile. This battle was long overdue him. He ran a hand back through his orange curls and adjusted the tie around his neck. It was time to get down to business.

* * *

Alvis ducked a fist aimed for his head and swept the man's legs out from under him. Rolling back to his feet, he left the man where he fell and raced on towards the airship. Ahead, a line of several AVALANCHE troops ran towards him. Seeing no space through which to pass, Alvis raised his rod, ready to engage. As the first man reached him, he lashed out, catching one across the throat. The man went down with a choke of surprise as his comrades pushed past Alvis and ran on. Alvis spun around and watched as the enemy ran seemingly away from him. Behind him, a cry of alarm came from the direction of the airship. He turned back towards his target.

“Prepare yourself,” someone shouted. Alvis saw a man holding an AVALANCHE soldier above the ground, his hand firmly around his throat. He wore a Turk uniform. “Dragging innocent citizens into this. I swear on my soul, I’m not going to let you get away with it!”

With a single squeeze of his fingers, Legend crushed the man's windpipe and dropped him to the ground asphyxiated. Alvis watched wide eyed as the man turned to look at him. He wore dark glasses like Rude and had as much swagger as Reno. He couldn't recall having met the Turk before. Whoever he was, he was grateful for his presence.

“You must be Alvis,” he greeted him with a surprisingly chipper smile. “I’m here to clear a path for you.”

“So you're a Turk, too?” Alvis asked dumbly.

The man studied him from behind his obscuring shades. “That's right. I received an emergency call from Verdot. The airship is just up ahead.”

Right. The airship. Alvis recovered and returned to the assignment at hand. “Leave everything to me,” he assured the mysterious Turk.

Legend removed a fresh cigarette from his suit pocket and lit up as he looked out over the battlefield. “I’ll hold back the enemy here,” he declared before taking a deep drag of smoke.

Pushing his other thoughts aside, Alvis moved past him and headed for the airship. “I’m counting on you,” he shouted back over his shoulder.

“See you later,” Legend called, then added, “With a big smile, okay?”

Alvis nodded and headed for the airship. The way was surprisingly clear. His friend back there had certainly done his job well. He came to a stop. An infantryman pushed himself up to his knees and looked directly at him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, needing desperately to move on, but the man seemed intent on holding his attention. A growing crimson stain was spreading across his waist, and he was dangerously pale. He collapsed back down on his side and laid staring up at the Turk.

“Be careful. He’s strong…” he warned past a gurgle in his throat.

“What do you mean?” Alvis asked tentatively.

A menacing laugh came to him from the airship. Alvis jerked his attention up and glared at the three Ravens standing there watching him. The one in the center looked familiar, but that was impossible. Still, there was no denying the man's appearance.

“It’s you!” Alvis growled. “The Ravens. Risen from your grave again, have you!?” He had heard about their unnatural ability, but didn't believe it until now.

Kyneugh's laughter subsided as he directed his men forward. The two of them circled Alvis slowly, drawing their swords slowly, dragging out the metallic ring of their unsheathing. The Turk lunged right, leading with his rod. The man was in his sights, until suddenly he wasn't. Alvis swung his rod through thin air, fighting for his balance. A sharp pain shot through his kidney as the man behind him pounded him repeatedly with a closed fist. Alvis dropped to one knee. Spinning around, he lashed out with enough speed to catch the back of the man's knees. With a grunt of surprise, the Raven went down on his back as his feet shot out from under him. In a flash, Alvis was on top of him, pressing his rod down on his throat, crushing his windpipe. The man squirmed beneath him. He was nearly out. Then the Turk was yanked off him violent by a fist buried in his hair. The second Raven drove a knee into his stomach and slung him to the ground. Kneeling over him, he drove a fist into the side of this head.

The blow distorted the Turk's vision. They were toying with him; making him suffer. They had swords. Why didn't they just kill him already? Alvis urged his body to fight back, but felt numb all over. He braced for another impact to his face. Turning his head aside, he clenched his eyes shut. A cry escaped the man above him, and his weight suddenly lifted off his chest. Opening his eyes, he saw through clouded vision that the man was lying unconscious beside him. The second Raven was down on his other side too.

“He didn't tell me you were a rookie.”

Alvis sat up and saw the other Turk from before standing over an unconscious Kyneough. The man looked directly at Alvis and pointed at him. “And where's that smile?” he reminded him.

Alvis shook his head and smiled, whether out of pure exhaustion or at the man's ridiculous demands, he didn't know. Legend stepped over to him and offered him a hand up. He jerked him up hard and fast and immediately left him to sway alone on legs that felt like rubber. Alvis watched him run a hand back through his hair and stride back out towards the quickly diminishing battlefield. Few AVALANCHE fighters remained. It would soon be over.

Nearby, he spotted Reno sauntering his way, though his eyes were on the other Turk. He gave Alvis a short wave. He looked about as rough as Alvis. Before Alvis could ask him about the other Turk, Tseng joined them and began looking over the airship.

“Junon is now safe,” he reported. “It’s all thanks to everyone’s efforts,” he added, looking pointedly after the fifth Turk as well. Alvis scanned Tseng's face. Was that admiration he saw in his eyes? Or something else? Tseng was a hard man to read.

“Man, I almost thought it was the end back there,” Reno drawled, rolling a kink out of his left shoulder.

“We made it because the Chief returned,” Tseng reminded them, removing his eyes from the other Turk and turning back to the airship. He ran a gloved hand along its smooth surface. His eyes studied his own reflection on the polished metal siding. Even then, he could see Legend's reflection clearly over his mirrored shoulder.

* * * * * * *

[President Shinra's Office]

The President fixed the Turk with a stern glare and quirked an inquisitive eyebrow. “Verdot. How is that other investigation going?”

“Sir, there’s nothing new yet,” he told the President grimly.

The President growled in frustration. “Who could be the one leaking information?”

“The list of candidates is small; it is information only the executives can get a hold of… There is one executive lacking in loyalty,” Verdot suggested. He stepped up next to the President to look down on the city below.

President Shinra nodded slowly. “The Head of the Science Department, Hojo…” he mused, “True, has access to all of our SOLDIER data and is privy to a lot of classified information.”

Verdot hummed silently in agreement. It made sense. That would explain AVALANCHE’s recent growth in strength, he reasoned. We had better keep an eye on him.

Chapter 31: 10: The Lone Discerning Alignment, part 1

[Shinra Building, Midgar]

[17 June 0002]

[11:00PM or 23:00]

The man looked around cautiously as he entered the lab on the 68th floor of the Shinra Building. Security was disappointingly lax. Or perhaps not so disappointing, depending on who you asked. If you asked him, it was fine just the way it was.

The lab itself was surprisingly well organized for being headed by someone that was often described as being so mad. But it was his madness that had drawn the attention of AVALANCHE's higher-ups.

The man headed purposefully down one of the halls and stopped at a sealed door with a keypad. Recalling the number he had been given, he keyed it in and, after a quick glance around, stepped in under a sign reading “Monster Experimentation Area”. So far no alarms had been raised. He moved quickly. Along one side of the room were cages constructed of metal and shatterproof glass. Inside were monsters of various shapes and sizes. Burning balls of liquid fire aptly named Bombs. Turtle-shelled Sahagins. Winged Griffons. Oversized insects called Kimura Bugs. The man pounded on the doors and fronts of their cages as he passed by each of them.

At the back of the room was a control box. He headed for it. Carefully, he removed the side panel and examined the wires and circuits inside. No pass code would be required here. He reached in and cut a wire. The lights flickered and dimmed inside the containment area. He cut a second wire, and a slow whooshing noise filled the room as the cage doors all slid open in unison. Ducking behind a large piece of machinery, he watched the monsters cautiously exit their confinements. He had been careful to leave every door open behind him as he passed through the building. With any luck, most of them were still open.

* * *

“Everyone! Get ready to head out at once!” Verdot commanded, as he stormed into the control room and began scanning through the different cameras scattered throughout the Shinra Building.

Tseng was the first to his feet. “Sir, has something happened?”

“There has been a massive monster outbreak,” Verdot explained, pausing to study one of the monitors. “We must exterminate them.”

“Hold on,” Tseng said, trying to grasp the situation. It wasn't often that he saw the Chief acting with such urgency. He joined him at the monitors. “Where is the outbreak taking place?”

“Right here in the Shinra Company Headquarters,” he responded gravely.

Cissnei bolted to her feet. “Here!? How!?”

Tseng's mind was already calculating the situation. “Then that means the monsters that have broken out…”

“Yes, they are Professor Hojo’s research samples,” Verdot confirmed. “They escaped from his laboratory. Or more like, somebody let them out.”

“You always feared this would happen,” recalled Tseng.

“No use worrying about it now,” Verdot said, drawing him back to the present. “Right now we have to focus on getting the situation under control.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng said, beginning to form a plan. “I will oversee the evacuation of the employees.”

“Good. I’ll leave that to you,” Verdot agreed. “Cissnei.”

She took Tseng's position at the monitors as he left the control room. “Yes, sir?”

“The monster research is a classified company secret. Only the highest executives are aware of it,” he quickly explained. “We have to keep this incident as quiet as possible.”

Cissnei nodded in understanding, then asked, “Does that mean that we’ll be the only ones to deal with this?”

“Yes,” the Chief said affirmatively. “We can’t rely on SOLDIER, and we’re not talking about ordinary monsters. Prepare yourself. Get what you need and then get to the 65th floor.”

They watched on one of the monitors as a Bomb cornered an infantryman. The man appeared to panic just before a silent explosion rocked the camera. When the image settled, both monster and infantryman were gone. Cissnei turned and raced for the door.

- - -

[Shinra Building, 67th floor]

Another Bomb exploded as Cissnei lowered her pistol and rushed into the stairwell. Hojo's lab was on level 68. She had encountered no monsters until level 66. That meant they hadn't made it far. She had just cleared Floor 67. One more flight of stairs would get her to the epicenter of the outbreak. She reloaded her firearm and returned it to her holster in exchange for her shuriken. Leaning out over the stairway railing, she gazed up the stairwell to the floors above. No monsters seemed to have reached the stairwell.

She sprinted up the next flight of stairs, taking them two at a time. At the top, she came to a sudden halt, grabbing hold of the hand rail to keep from tripping over the infantryman lying on the floor in front of her.

“Hey!” she yelled instinctively. “Are you all right?”

He was face down and not moving. She knelt on the top step and pushed the man over onto his back. He was dead. A long streak of blood ran from his right shoulder down across his torso. A clean slit had been cut across his uniform.

This wound… it looks like he was killed with a sword, she thought as she examined it. No monster could have done this. So who did?

Leaping over the body, she ran to the stairwell door. Like all the others, it was marked with the floor number. 68. She jerked it open and stepped through. Inside, there was an elevator to her right. Straight ahead was a glass wall spanning the width of the room. In the center of the wall was a single set of sliding doors, which were standing wide open. Above the doors was a large sign reading “Shinra Science Department. Head: Professor Hojo”.

Entering the source of the outbreak, she stepped inside cautiously. The place was surprisingly clean. Every surface seemed polished enough to see her reflection in. The strong stench of formaldehyde and other pungent fumes saturated the air as she tiptoed her way around foreign machines that were whirring and beeping all around the lab. The place seemed devoid of monsters. She turned to leave, but was stopped short by the sound of voices coming from another part of the lab.

She hurried across the floor to the other side of the laboratory. The voices grew louder. She started around a large cylindrical tank, but quickly jerked herself back. Crouching cautiously behind it, she watched as Fuhito and Shears approached Professor Hojo. One of their Ravens was standing guard behind them. Hojo had his back to the approaching men, seemingly consumed by the readouts on the screen in front of him.

“Professor Hojo,” she heard Shears address the scientist.

“Tell me later, whatever it is,” Hojo said with a wave of his hand, never taking his eyes off his work. “I’m busy right now. Someone has released my research samples. Thanks to that, I’m able to gather actual combat data.”

Fuhito chuckled. “I am happy that you are pleased with the results,” he said almost cheerfully. “You see, we are the ones who released the monsters.”

“Then you have my gratitude,” Hojo mumbled absently, still not looking at the two men addressing him.

Fuhito cast Shears a sideways glance before stepping closer to the scientist. “And that’s not all, Professor. Today, we have brought you some very interesting data. Of something even greater than SOLDIER.”

A short cackling laugh escaped the professor. “Greater than SOLDIER?” he asked, taking on a more serious tone once again. “If that’s true, then it would certainly be very interesting.”

“I am sure that it will be to your liking, Professor,” Fuhito pressed. “Why not leave Shinra and continue your research with us?”

That seemed to catch the scientist's attention. Professor Hojo turned slowly to look at his guests for the first time. He studied the two men with a raised eyebrow and adjusted the small pair of spectacles resting on the end of his narrow nose.

“…So you are outsiders,” he said slowly.

Cissnei watched as the men stepped closer to the Shinra scientist. As Shears reached out to take him by the arm, she emerged from her hiding place and rushed towards them. The Raven drew his sword in response and planted himself between her and the AVALANCHE leaders. Fuhito had noted her entrance as well.

“Oh? It seems that the Turks have arrived,” he said, sounding both pleased and amused. “Kyneugh, please take care of this Turk. We will show the Professor the way.”

He stepped over to Hojo and took hold of his other arm firmly.

“Professor!” Cissnei shouted.

The Raven blocking her path grinned maliciously. A sinister laugh escaped him.

“Out of the way,” she warned the Raven.

The man ignored the request and lunged at her then. Cissnei raised her shuriken like a shield and deflected the man's repeated slashes with his sword. The Raven shifted his approach and exchanged his slashes for stabbing motions. Cissnei leaped back.

Professor Hojo watched as the Raven effortlessly dodged and countered each of the Turk's attacks. His agility and combat capabilities were astounding.

“Ahhh,” the scientist signed with pleasure and interest. “So this is the redesigned SOLDIER? How interesting. Let me see the extent of its abilities.”

Cissnei dared to take her eyes off of the Raven long enough to glance over at the mad scientist. She couldn't believe he was actually encouraging the enemy attack. She heard the whistle of the Raven's blade cutting through the air towards her and ducked. She dropped into a crouch, before launching herself back up under the man's passing sword with shuriken ready. With precision, she aimed one of its many points at the bottom of the man's ribcage and used her upward momentum to drive it in. She pulled the weapon out and stepped back as she felt the man go limp and collapse to the floor. He didn't move. A stream of blood trickled down his torso.

Lowering her weapon, she turned to face Fuhito and Shears. They seemed unconcerned by the Raven's failure and were still holding Professor Hojo securely between them. She started towards them. As she stepped over the body, a vice like grip clamped down around her ankle accompanied by an ominous laugh. Cissnei let out a short cry of alarm as she felt herself being yanked back. The next thing she knew, she was tumbling across the floor of the lab. When she came to a halt, she pushed herself onto her hands and knees and watched in horror as the Raven effortlessly got to his feet and retrieved his fallen sword.

“I see,” Professor Hojo said admiringly. “You’re using some kind of regenerative method.”

“Yes,” Fuhito confirmed haughtily. “I simply modified your ideas slightly. Kyneugh will revive no matter how many times he is cut down.”

“Hmm,” Hojo hummed with a smile. “Not bad. You made some interesting changes.”

“But the best is yet to come,” Fuhito assured him tantalizingly.

“…All right,” Hojo conceded. “You’ve interested me. I’ll listen to what you have to say.”

Shears gave his arm a slight tug and pointed him towards the lab entrance. “This way then, Professor.”

Fuhito and Shears guided Hojo towards the door

“Wait!” Cissnei ordered.

They ignored her. Determined, she started after them. She took two steps before a sharp pain exploded in her side and she felt herself tumbling across the floor. Crashing into a piece of laboratory equipment, she quickly took stock of her injuries and bounded back to her feet. Her side ached, but was not bleeding. He must've hit her with the flat of his sword. He could've killed her, she realized, but he hadn't. He wanted to play with her. Walking slowly towards her, a wicked smile on his face proved that point.

Cissnei scowled back. She was in no mood to play and charged him. The Raven raised his sword to meet her. As he swung his weapon, she dropped to the floor on her knees, sliding beneath his blade and plowing her shuriken through his shins. With a grunt, the man fell forward, his legs swiped out from under him by the Turk. Cissnei jumped to her feet and started across the lab. The Raven wouldn't be down for long. She had to think fast. How do you kill something that won't stay dead? She looked ahead of her. The lab incinerator was running. Surely even a Raven couldn't revive without an intact body.

She heard the man climbing to his feet behind her and spun around to face him. He was already charging. Throwing the shuriken up, she deflected each strike as she backed slowly across the lab to the incinerator. When she could feel its heat on her back, she thrust her weapon forward and caught the Raven's sword in a deadlock. The man leaned into her, threatening to overpower the Turk. He brought his face within inches of hers. She could feel his breath on her face. He was hardly breathing heavy at all; and he was actually smiling.

Without warning, Cissnei gave up her resistance and dropped to her knees, leaving the Raven to topple over her. The Turk spun out from under him and ran at his back. Tucking her shoulder, she rammed him hard between the shoulder blades. Kyneugh threw his arms out to stop his fall, but there was nothing in front of him but flames. Cissnei crashed her palm against the lever beside the opening and slammed the door shut, trapping the Raven – or whatever might be left of him – inside.

Turning away, she ran to the lab entrance and looked both ways up and down the hall. There was no sign of the Professor or his captors. She pulled out her phone and called Verdot.

“Chief!” she said breathlessly. “We’ve got trouble!”

“What’s wrong, Cissnei?” Verdot said coolly, trying to calm her down as well.

“Professor Hojo has been abducted by AVALANCHE!”

“What!?” Verdot gasped, asking himself, How did AVALANCHE get into the building?

Cissnei started into the hall and was headed for the stairs. “I’m going after them,” she informed the Chief.

“They're in the stairwell,” Verdot said, following them on the surveillance cameras. “They're going up. Can you handle it?” Verdot asked warily.

“Of course,” Cissnei assured him as she shoved open the door and headed up the first flight of stairs.

- - -

Tseng held open the door as the last of the Shinra employees filed through. He had managed to keep the situation calm, having convinced all the employees that this was no more than a routine drill. His phone went off. It was the Chief.

“Tseng, we have an emergency situation,” Verdot began by telling him.

“Chief, what is it this time?” Tseng asked quietly, turning away from the crowd.

“AVALANCHE has taken Professor Hojo.”

Tseng started back inside the building with renewed urgency. “Hojo?!” he asked. “How–”

“AVALANCHE has somehow infiltrated the building,” Verdot said somberly.

“Unbelievable,” Tseng muttered to himself, then asked, “They managed to bypass building security?”

“So it seems,” said Verdot, taking a deep breath. “They might still be lurking elsewhere in the building. It’s possible that they’re targeting the other executives as well.”

“Understood. I will take them to designated shelter then,” Tseng reported.

“Hurry,” the Chief told him, confirming the course of action.

Tseng pushed through the door to the stairs and headed for the executive offices.

- - -

[69th Floor]

Shears pushed open the door to the 69th floor and pulled Hojo through behind him. Fuhito followed. They had entered a narrow hallway ending in another flight of stairs to the roof. A security camera with a blinking red light flickered overhead. Fuhito pulled out a small hand gun and shot it.

Hojo looked over at his captor. “This is the 69th floor,” he told Fuhito. “What are you planning to do by going up? I expected you to take me to the first floor.”

“We are going to steal one of the helicopters on the roof,” Shears answered, pushing him forward down the hall.

“Well, well,” Hojo said with a little laugh. “You are well-informed for outsiders. Still, will things go so smoothly?”

“No problem,” Shears assured him. “Five minutes is all we need.”

Shears led the way down the hall and checked the next stairwell before waving Hojo and Fuhito onward. At the base of the steps, Hojo stopped and turned around to face Fuhito.

“Ah, I remember now,” he was saying. “It was you. It was you who stole that disc with the SOLDIER data wasn’t it?”

Fuhito smiled, flattered by the esteemed scientist's recognition. “Indeed. The contents were very interesting, to say the least.”

Hojo seemed surprised. “Oh? So you bypassed that kind of security? You’re a lot more clever than I thought. Still, you’re quite audacious, managing to sneak into the building like this.”

Shears grunted behind him, reaching out to pull him through the door. “It was easy,” he bragged.

“Indeed,” confirmed Fuhito, following them up the stairs. “Your monster is a highly classified activity within the company. Releasing the monsters meant that only the Turks would be able to deal with them.”

“Hmm… I see,” said Hojo. “So you set it up so that the Turks would have to fight your redesigned SOLDIER.”

Fuhito smiled. “That is correct.”

“Ha!” Hojo cackled. “You’re quite an interesting fellow.”

“I am honored that you think so.”

Unamused by their apparent camaraderie, Shears urged them onward.

Chapter 32: 10: The Lone Discerning Alignment, part 2

“Cissnei?”

“Chief!” she answered her phone. She had just reached floor 69.

“Hurry to the roof,” he ordered. “That seems to be where they’re taking the Professor.”

“They must be planning to steal a helicopter!” she said urgently.

“So it seems. We’ll have a hard time catching up with them if they get away in one,” Veld warned her.

“Understood,” Cissnei acknowledged and picked up her pace.

- - -

[Shinra Conference Room]

Verdot gathered with President Shinra and his son in the conference room on the 67th floor of the Shinra Building. Unfortunately, Rufus Shinra was currently back in between business trips and had insisted on joining his father at this meeting. Verdot had no choice but to inform him of the current situation as well.

“What!?” Rufus stormed, pacing the length of the table. The younger Shinra had his father's audacity coupled with a mild temper. “You’re telling me that Hojo’s been abducted by AVALANCHE?”

“This is a serious problem!” the President joined his son in expressing outrage at the situation. “It’ll be the end of the company if Hojo’s knowledge is made public.”

Rufus crossed his arms and turned to face the Chief of Investigations. “So, Verdot, how are you handling the situation?” He said it like a dare.

“We are currently pursuing him,” Verdot reported calmly.

“Hurry up and get him back,” the President ordered. “Hojo can’t be trusted!”

“True,” Rufus said in agreement. “Hojo only cares about his research. If he finds something else that interests him more, it will be nothing to him to reveal Shinra’s secrets, classified or not.”

The President let out an angry growl and pounded the table with both fists. “This is a dangerous situation. We have no other choice! Sephiroth! Call in Sephiroth!” he ordered.

“Sephiroth? That’s overdoing it,” his son cautioned. “He’ll call more attention to the situation than Hojo or AVALANCHE put together.”

Verdot joined Rufus in agreement. “Mr. President, the Vice President is right. If you bring Sephiroth into this, we won’t be able to keep this incident quiet.”

“It’s your job to keep things like that quiet,” President Shinra reminded him sternly.

Verdot protested, “But–”

“Enough!” the President demanded, pounding the table again for emphasis. “Send out Sephiroth!”

Verdot exchanged glances with the President's son. Rufus looked as displeased as him. Verdot sighed. He had no choice but to make the call.

- - -

An infantryman stood at attention next to a lone, grounded chopper on the far side of the rooftop helipad. He watched as three men exited the top floor of the Shinra Building and hustled across the pad towards him. No flights were scheduled for takeoff. He raised his rifle.

“Halt!” he ordered. As they came closer, he recognized the scientist in the middle of the group. He lowered his rifle. “Professor Hojo?” he asked with uncertainty.

“You’re in the way. Move!” Shears ordered loudly.

The man flinched, and Shears took advantage of the opportunity. He lunged for the man's weapon. With one hand, he wrested the rifle from him while slugging him in the temple with the other. The infantryman sank silently to the landing pad while Shears stepped over him and slid open the side of the chopper.

“Come on, Professor,” he said gruffly, turning back to his escort and waving him forward. “Into the helicopter.”

“Yes, yes, all right,” said Hojo amiably, taking the hand-up Shears’ offered.

“Professor, I will explain everything in detail once we are in the air,” Fuhito assured him as he followed him inside.

Shears stripped a large pack from his shoulders and dropped it to the floor next to Fuhito as he pushed past the scientist and entered the cockpit. He quickly flipped several switches overhead and settled into the pilot seat as the blades above roared to life. Through the windshield, he saw a Turk exit the building and sprint onto the landing pad. She raised her pistol and fired off several rounds at the idling chopper. Shears flinched as the bullets pinged off of the helicopter's metal shell. One shot chipped the windshield. Growling angrily, he reached across the dash and pulled the lever activating the chopper's artillery. He squeezed the trigger on the control stick and unleashed a volley of artillery shells at the advancing Turk.

“Take that, Turk,” he said with a malicious laugh, watching as she ran for cover behind a control tower.

“How much longer are you going to keep me waiting?” Hojo shouted from the back. “If you are going to waste my time shooting mindlessly at a Turk, I’m getting off.”

“All right!” Shears hollered back, letting up on the trigger. “We’re leaving.”

He took hold of the yoke and guided the chopper into the air. He kept it low, taking one last swipe at the retreating Turk before maneuvering away from the building and out over the city.

Cissnei threw herself down to the landing pad as the chopper passed dangerously close overhead. She somersaulted smoothly back to her feet and fired off three more shots as the helicopter pulled away.

“Damn it!” she screamed as she holstered her smoking gun and called the Chief.

“Status?” he answered anxiously.

“They stole a chopper and got away,” she reported angrily.

“Damn,” Verdot swore under his breath. “Head to the main entrance,” he ordered. “There will be a truck waiting. Use it to pursue the helicopter.”

“Understood,” Cissnei said as she headed back into the building and entered the elevator.

She punched the button for the main level and paced the small space inside during the frustratingly long descent from the top floor. Before the doors had completely opened, she squeezed through and sprinted across the empty lobby. Her footsteps echoed eerily in the empty glass-enclosed space. She braced herself as she hit the crash bar on the front door and exited the building still at a dead run. The cool night air was tinged with the smell of exhaust. As she looked down the front steps to the street, she saw a Shinra truck idling on the curb. Through the open passenger window, she could see the driver lean across the cab and throw the door open.

“Cissnei!” Tseng shouted. “Get in!”

She cleared the steps in two leaps and pulled herself into the cab of the truck. Tseng floored the accelerator as soon as she hit the seat. Her door slammed shut as the vehicle lurched forward. Tseng expertly maneuvered the large truck through Midgar's narrow streets before finding an on-ramp to the elevated highway system.

“Did you finish evacuating the employees?” Cissnei asked as she took the opportunity to reload her pistol.

“Reno and the others took over,” he said, leaning over the steering wheel to check the skies for the helicopter.

Cissnei did the same. “Then they’ll be fine,” she said with some relief. “Do the other executives know what’s going on?”

Tseng nodded. “Everything’s in an uproar with Hojo’s abduction.”

“No kidding,” she agreed. “AVALANCHE being able to get in like that in the first place is enough to cause a panic.”

“Yeah, but that’s as far as they’re going to get, though,” Tseng growled.

The next several seconds were filled with silence as they both searched the sky for the runaway chopper.

“There!” Tseng shouted. “I can see the helicopter now.”

The chopper crossed over the highway ahead of them. The reverberating beat of the blades rattled the inside of the truck.

“Keep them in sight,” Cissnei warned as the chopper appeared to pull away.

“I’d like to, but it looks like we have company,” Tseng said sternly.

Cissnei checked the side mirror and saw two men on motorcycles roaring up behind them. A bullet suddenly shattered the passenger-side mirror, and Cissnei ducked to shield her face from the flying shards of glass. Tseng ignored the shots and kept the truck on course behind the chopper. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment. Reaching inside, he pulled out a large revolver and passed it to Cissnei.

“Try to hold them off,” he told her, returning his focus to the road and the helicopter.

Cissnei checked the chamber before leaning out the window and firing off a round. The larger gun bucked back in her hand with each shot. The second bullet shattered the headlight of one of the bikes, the driver jerked around to the other side of the truck. Before the second bike could follow, Cissnei got off two more rounds, striking the biker and toppling him off his bike.

“You got one coming up your side,” Cissnei warned, pulling herself back inside the truck.

“I see him,” said Tseng, checking his mirror.

Slowly, but steadily, the motorcycle inched its way up next to the truck. Without warning, Tseng jerked the truck hard to the left, ramming the bike and forcing it into the concrete guard rail. The bike hit the barrier at full speed and erupted in flames as the truck barreled on up the highway.

“I think that's all of them,” Tseng said, checking the remaining mirrors.

“Good,” said Cissnei, returning the revolver to its place under the dash. “Then we can finally focus on pursuing the helicopter.”

Tseng shook his head, frowning. “The helicopter has ascended too much.”

“That's all right,” Cissnei said, leaning forward in her seat. “Look, they aren't speeding up and we have a clear view of it. Let’s just make sure not to lose sight of it.”

“You're right. That’s strange…” he mused. “Why aren’t they trying to get away?”

“Maybe they’re having problems with the helicopter?” Cissnei suggested hopefully.

- - -

In the helicopter…

“… And that is the current situation,” Fuhito concluded.

“Oh? That is certainly very interesting,” Hojo said, his eyes gleaming. “She may indeed make a suitable research sample.”

“Hey! What do you mean, ‘research sample’!?” Shears shouted back from the cockpit. “Elfe is a human being!”

“Shears, cease please,” Fuhito ordered sternly. “Professor Hojo is our esteemed guest.”

They could hear Shears growl from the cockpit.

“Pardon the interruption, Professor Hojo,” said Fuhito graciously.

“Ha! It doesn’t bother me,” the professor laughed before turning serious. “However, I won’t have anyone interfering with how I treat my samples. Assuming that we will be working together from now on, that is.”

“Bastard–!” Shears erupted again. “If you think you can do whatever you want, you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Shears!” Fuhito shouted, his voice carrying a hidden warning. “Maybe it would be better if I sent you on your next mission. Go. Deal with the Turks.”

“…Fine,” he finally conceded and went about resetting the controls of the chopper.

With the helicopter set to hover in place, Shears left the cockpit and joined Professor Hojo and Fuhito in the back. Snatching a parachute pack off the wall, he quickly and expertly strapped on the harness. By the time he turned back, Fuhito had unloaded the Shinra-made rocket-launcher from his pack and was holding it out to him ready to use. Shears took the weapon and braced himself at the edge of the chopper. Looking down the sight, he traced the path of the approaching truck. He adjusted his aim several meters ahead and pulled the trigger.

“Tseng!” Cissnei cried, pointing through the windshield as a trail of smoke jetted from a bright flash onboard the chopper.

Suddenly the road ahead of them erupted in a cloud of fire, smoke, and debris. The entire highway shook, and Tseng fought to maintain control of the wheel. Through the haze, a jagged, gaping hole appeared in the road before them.

“Tseng, stop!” Cissnei screamed.

“I’m trying!” Tseng stood on the brakes, and the tires squealed as the speeding truck fishtailed left and right.

Unable to curtail its trajectory, the truck plunged nose first into the crater. Its momentum carried it end over end, flipping it to land top down in the pitted highway. Cissnei felt herself being thrown from the pitching vehicle. Her shoulder hit the pavement first. After that, everything went black.

Waking up moments later, she fought to push herself up to her hands and knees. The guard rail had been blown away by the blast, and she had landed dangerously close to the edge. The truck she had been in only seconds before was lying upside down in the hole in the road. Smoke rolled out from under the crunched hood. At the bottom of the crater, she could see clear through the road to the city below. With a moan, she climbed to her feet and stumbled forward to get a better view of the truck. She couldn't see Tseng inside.

“Tseng!” she screamed. There was no answer.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

Cissnei spun around to confront the voice behind her. The quick movement cost her her balance, and she stumbled. A wave of nausea washed over her as well.

Shears stood behind her, arms crossed, an amused smile on his lips.

“You could’ve gone the easy way if you’d just fallen,” he told her stoically. “Still, I’ll help you on your way now.”

He lunged at her, leading with his fist. She parried the blow as she awkwardly sidestepped around him. Following through, Shears stepped around behind her and clamped his arm tightly around her neck, catching her throat in the crook of his elbow. Cissnei clawed furiously at his forearm, fighting back against his tightening grip. She could feel his hot breath on her ear as he held her tightly against his chest. Her vision was starting to dim. She began thrashing her legs, kicking him repeated in the shins and stomping his feet. He responded with a growl as he stood taller lifting her off her feet. With one last burst of stamina, she released her hold on his arm and drove her elbow back into his ribcage. She heard an enraged grunt escape him and felt his grip loosen slightly. Her feet touched back down to the ground, and she hammered her elbow back again. With a snarl, he wrenched her sideways and flung her to the pavement. She tumbled hard, feeling her head strike the asphalt with each roll.

When she finally stopped, she laid motionless, gasping for breath, eyes clamped shut. She could hear his boots crunching the fine particles of debris against the rough pavement as he approached. She willed herself to get up, to move, but her body wouldn’t obey her commands. She felt his presence kneeling over her as a rough hand grasped her collar and jerked her shoulders up off the ground. Her head snapped back. Fighting to maintain consciousness, she grabbed hold of his forearm with both hands and managed to pull her head up. He was straddling her, fist poised by his head. She closed her eyes and braced for the impact of his fist against her face.

Abruptly, a bright light flashed across her face. Her eyes flickered open. Shears shot his gaze to the sky overhead. She saw his mouth turn down in an angry snarl.

“Damn,” he cursed. “That was quick. Oh well,” he said gruffly. “Can’t be helped.”

With a shove, he released his grip on the Turk, dropping her to the pavement. Her head bounced back against the rough surface with a dull thud, as she heard his footsteps retreating swiftly into the encroaching darkness.

Seconds stretched by before she heard another set of footsteps approaching from the opposite direction. She laid perfectly still, unable to move even if she wanted to. She sensed someone leaning over her as a gloved hand gently checked her neck for a pulse. Satisfied that she was alive, she heard the figure move away. With great effort, she willed her heavy eyelids to open. A pair of black leather boots was walking away. The tip of a gleaming slender sword glided silently inches above the ground. She directed her eyes upward and saw the hem of a long black coat. A cascade of shimmering silver hair brushed back and forth against it.

Sephiroth? she wondered before finally blacking out.

 

“Cissnei!”

She felt an arm being worked under her shoulders and lifting her up.

“Cissnei!” Tseng shouted again, giving her a slight shake.

He gently pushed her bangs away from her forehead and brushed his thumb over her pale, dirt-covered cheek. Her eyes fluttered open. She heard him let out a long-held breath.

“You’re going to be all right,” he told her, as she fought to sit up on her own.

A heavy pounding emanated through her head, and she clenched her teeth against the pain.

“Can you stand up?” he was asking her.

“Yeah,” she said and did so while relying heavily on his strength to accomplish the task.

The sound of wrenching metal squealed through the air overhead. Together they watched as the black Shinra helicopter reeled through the air. Its main rotor system was missing; how, was anyone's guess. The plummeting chopper continued to gain speed as it fell before crashing onto the highway fifty meters away. The ground shook with the impact, followed by a small explosion. The Turks watched as the helicopter billowed out thick black smoke.

“The Professor!” Tseng gasped.

He ran towards the wreckage, leaving Cissnei to follow if she could. A curtain of orange flames was springing up around the crumbled metal casing of the chopper. Back-lit by the flames, he saw two men coming towards him, one tall and striding, the other slight and shuffling. The Turk came to a stop as the captured scientist and his rescuer drew near.

“Professor, are you all right?” he asked anxiously, looking past the man to Sephiroth.

Professor Hojo stood in front of the SOLDIER with hands in his pockets. “As you can see, I’m fine,” he reported curtly.

With a grunt of dissatisfaction, Sephiroth took a step back from the scientist. “Turks, I’ll leave the rest to you,” he said flatly. “I’ve done my duty.”

With that, the SOLDIER brushed past them and started down the highway back towards Shinra Headquarters.

“Sephiroth,” Hojo called after him. “You’ve grown stronger.”

His observation went ignored by the SOLDIER.

“Professor Hojo,” said Tseng. “Come with us; we’ll return you to headquarters. A helicopter will be here soon.”

- - -

[AVALANCHE Headquarters]

“What do you think you’re doing!?” an irate voice bellowed over the speaker. “Why did you move on your own? I don’t remember telling you to raid the Shinra Building!”

Elfe sat back speechless by the rapid turn of events.

“You did last year,” protested Fuhito in a rare display of anger. “You ordered us to blow up the Shinra Building with the mako cannon.”

“Fuhito!” Shears growled. “Just let it be.”

“Why do you bring that up now?” the speaker condemned. “As I’ve told you, that battle was meant to be lost. Think of it as a performance.”

Elfe signaled to the men in the room to be quiet. “You have my humblest apologies,” she said, trying to pacify their benefactor. “I take full responsibility for this.”

“Just refrain from such reckless actions in the future,” the man snapped. “If I hadn’t warned you about Sephiroth, chances are we wouldn’t be sitting here having this discussion. Remember that.”

“We will,” said Elfe graciously.

“Now,” he said with a sign, “back to the matter at hand. I’ve received some new information. I’ve located the whereabouts of the Ancient girl.”

“The Ancients?” said Fuhito skeptical. “I thought they’d all died out.”

“There is a single survivor,” he explained proudly. “This is one of the Shinra Company’s top secrets. If it wasn’t for me, you would never have known.”

“And I am very grateful,” Fuhito assured him. “As a student of Planet studies, I have a great interest in the Ancients.”

“Then our next target is the Ancient,” Elfe confirmed.

“Precisely,” the man agreed. “Get her before Shinra does. Find her, and she’ll tell you where the Promised Land is.”

Chapter 33: 11: The Dash to Freedom, part 1

[9 August 0002] [01:00]

[Sector 5 Slums]

Nearly lurching off his stool, Alvis jerked awake as he grabbed hold of the bar in front of him. The stunned Turk looked quickly around the quiet room.

“Reno…? Ruluf…?” he slurred, sitting up and looking around again.

The elderly bartender made his way down the counter, wiping it down with a stained rag as he went. Seeing the bewildered Turk, he chuckled and slid a glass of water towards him.

“You're the last one,” he said as he offered him the glass. “You look like you could use this.”

“No way,” the Turk moaned, sitting up taller and rubbing his face. “Everyone’s gone back already?”

“Looks like it,” the man said wearily as he went about closing up the bar.

“They left me behind?” Alvis complained. “…Never mind. I have tomorrow off anyway, so I’ll just enjoy myself before I head back.” He pushed himself up from the bar. “Thanks for the water,” he told the man as he downed the glass and headed for the door while nursing the beginnings of a headache.

He pushed his way through the swinging door and shuffled outside. Without thinking, he turned left and began walking. There were not many streetlights in the slums. The light of the full moon illuminated parts of Sector 5 that were not covered by the Plate.

“Uhhh. Where am I?” he moaned, rubbing his eyes. “Come on, I can’t be lost…”

He turned in a circle trying to get a handle on his surroundings. He was in the central district, right? To his left was the community center and beyond that was some kind of orphanage, he thought. There were a few houses too – shacks, really. A tall church towered in the distance, its steeple just barely visible and glinting in the moonlight.

He started towards the orphanage. He’s passed by it earlier on his way down, hadn’t he? Something in the schoolyard caught his eye as he started past. Curious, he hurried across the road and stopped at the edge of the dusty yard. There, despite the dried up earth, a large patch of lush vegetation filled the space.

“Flowers?” he asked bewildered. “I can’t believe I’m seeing flowers out here.”

Then he laughed and rubbed his eyes some more, thinking that he must be hallucinating. He'd had way too much to drink. That was Reno's fault, challenging him to a drinking game. He should have known better. He moaned into his hands as he rubbed his face once more.

Behind him, a small shadow fell across the path leading past the orphange. A teenage girl silently stepped from alley and glanced around. A long brown braid hung down her back, tied at the top with a bright pink bow. The Turk stood watching her from across the yard. She was looking back up the street from where she had come, mumbling quietly to herself.

“I want to see the world outside of Midgar… I’ll come home, so don’t worry, Mom.”

She turned around then. As she looked up, her large green eyes met the Turk’s. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and she covered her mouth with one hand. He smiled at her, not wanting to frighten her more than he already had. Before he could say anything, she turned and ran down the street towards the central district, disappearing around the corner of a house.

“Huh?” he mumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “What was that all about?”

He shrugged his shoulders and turned back up the street. A muted shriek stopped him. Looking in the direction of the plaza, he saw the young woman come running back towards him.

That girl again? What’s going on, he wondered as she came to a stop a few yards away.

She looked back over her shoulder, then at the Turk, then over her shoulder again. She almost seemed panicked. Then, from around the corner, two men in khaki fatigues came following after her. The men stopped when they saw the Turk. The girl stood helplessly between them all.

“A Turk!” one of the men exclaimed with a curse.

Alvis pulled out his EMR and ran past the woman, putting himself between her and the AVALANCHE troops.

“That’s enough!” he warned them. “I won’t let you harm civilians!”

The two men rushed him. Adrenaline kicked in and seemed to override the alcohol in the Turk's system. He ducked a hardline punch from the first man before coming back up and placing his rod beneath the man's chin. He went down choking on a crushed windpipe. Spinning to the second man, he blocked a punch with his rod, sending an electric shock up the man's arm. As he howled in pain. Alvis slugged him in the jaw, laying him out cold next to his asphyxiated companion.

Breathing hard from the exertion, he turned around to find the girl still standing where he had left her. She looked shaken by what had just transpired.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her.

Her lips parted as though to answer, but said nothing as she backed away from him.

“Don’t worry,” he said more gently. “I’m not going to do anything you.”

She took another step back.

“All right. I guess I have no choice,” he said, returning the EMR to his belt. “Let me ask you something. Why were those people after you?” It wasn’t like AVALANCHE to just attack random citizens.

“I don’t know,” she answered quietly, looking at the ground at her feet.

“Is that so…?” he asked wryly, trying to draw more out of her. When she offered no more information, he warned her, “You should think about what you’re doing. Walking around alone in the middle of the night is dangerous. I don’t know what happened, but you should go back home now.”

“Oh… okay,” she said, but she sounded unsure.

She stared at him a moment longer, as though she had expected something else from him. She turned away in slow motion and took two steps up the street before turning back.

“What are you… What are you doing out here?” she asked a little more boldly.

The Turk smiled and shoved his hands in pockets before simply saying, “I was looking at the flowers.”

The girl’s eyes flickered over to the flowers along the street by the orphanage.

“Really? That’s all?” she asked suspiciously, returning her gaze to the Turk.

“What else would I be doing?” Alvis said with a shrug. “Such beautiful flowers blooming in a wasteland like this… I didn’t think I’d find flowers blooming down here. They sort of pulled me in.”

The girl walked over to the patch of flowers and stepped daintily around them. Just being among them seemed to put a smile on her face.

“So you like flowers, too?” she asked, still sounding a little suspicious.

“Of course.”

“I grew these,” she said proudly, finally turning to look at him. She seemed to be watching him for a reaction.

“You did?” he asked, sounding surprised. He stepped back over to the garden to look at them again, too. “Wasn’t it a lot of work?”

“Not at all,” she said with a shake of her head. “It was fun.”

A burst of static erupted in the darkness beyond the garden. “I found her! She’s with the Turks!” they heard a man shout.

“Get her back!” came an angry voice over a radio.

Two more AVALANCHE troops materialized out of the darkness on the other side of the yard. The Turk snatched the girl’s hand and pulled her towards him.

“Come with me! This way!”

“Why?” she shouted. She was frightened and resisted his pulling.

“’Cause they’re after me too,” he explained quickly, giving her another tug. “Let’s try to lose them.”

Realizing she didn’t have much choice, she gave in to the Turk’s urging and followed him into the slums.

--

A lone AVALANCHE trooper entered the hollow interior of the large church. His boots echoed loudly on the wooden floor. Shears and Fuhito stood waiting in the center aisle. Elfe sat in one of the pews. Fuhito looked up as he entered.

“Reporting in, sir!” he said with a bow of his head. “We’ve located the Ancient.”

“Where is she?” Elfe asked anxiously, rising from the pew.

“The Turks have her.”

“What!?” she exclaimed, her ire rising.

“Our troops are pursuing them as we speak,” the trooper assured her, trying to assuage her anger.

“Get her back at all costs,” Fuhito ordered urgently, pacing the aisle of the church. “We cannot allow the Promised Land to fall into Shinra’s hands.”

“Yes, sir,” the trooper bowed his head submissively and turned to leave the church.

“Make sure no harm comes to the Ancient,” Elfe shouted sternly after him.

“Yes, sir,” he repeated and left the building.

As he left, Elfe continued her route up and down the main aisle of the church. Something about this mission had her feeling anxious, and she couldn’t explain why.

“That’s strange. There wasn’t anything about the Turks being dispatched,” Shears grumbled behind her.

She heard Fuhito hum quietly to himself. “This situation was not in our calculations,” he lamented.

--

Alvis led the girl through the maze of rubble and dilapidated buildings that was the slums. He tried to tune out the sound of their breathing and running feet to listen for their pursuers. He hadn’t heard their heavy footfalls for nearly a minute. He dared a look back and saw no one. He slowed his pace and came to a stop. The girl stopped too, staying close to him. They were both panting for air. He held his breath and listened once more for the sound of approaching footfalls, but the slums were eerily silent around them.

“Are you doing OK?” he whispered to his fellow fugitive.

“I’m fine,” she managed to get out between breaths.

He paused to listen again. “I wonder if we’ll be all right now…”

“I hear something,” said the girl quietly.

The Turk listened too, and soon picked up on the pounding footsteps behind them.

“They’re so persistent,” he growled. “They seem desperate. Wait here.”

Leaving her in the street, he hurried back as quietly as he could to the last corner they had rounded. He could hear their pursuer coming closer, his footsteps growing louder. Unhooking the baton from his belt, he lifted it up by his ear and waited. He looked back for the girl and saw her crouching behind some rubble at the side of the street. She was watching him. He focused again on the advancing footfalls. Closer. Wait. Closer. Wait. Closer. Now!

As the AVALANCHE trooper rounded the corner, the Turk let his weapon swing. The baton struck the man squarely under the chin, knocking him off his feet. As he landed on his back, the Turk jumped on top of him, hammering a solid fist into his temple and knocking him out cold. Alvis dared a quick look back the way they had come. Several flashlight beams bounced around the alley. Muttering a curse, he jumped to his feet and ran back to the girl.

“They still haven’t given up,” he reported, reaching for her hand. “We need to go.”

She trailed after him for a few steps before running ahead. “I know!” she exclaimed suddenly. “Let’s head this way. If we can get to the residential area there will be lots of places for us to hide.”

“Sounds good to me,” he told her, and followed her directions towards the Sector 5 residential district.

He led her through several streets, constantly ducking into new alleyways every time a flashlight appeared on the path behind them. The slums seemed to be swarming with AVALANCHE. Another one appeared at every turn. A growing number of the troops were latching on to their trail behind them. The young woman dared a look back.

“They’re still coming,” she panted.

“I guess I have no choice,” the Turk said, coming to a halt. “You go ahead and find a place to hide,” he instructed.

“But–”

“I’ll catch up,” he promised. “Hurry!”

“Okay,” she yielded and left him behind.

--

As soon as the last man hit the ground, Alvis sprinted into the darkness. Another group of AVALANCHE fighters entered the alley seconds behind him. One man paused briefly to check on his fallen comrades, but the others continued their forward pace, playing their flashlights along the sides of the street and checking side alleys as they went.

“Damn it,” one trooper swore under his breath. “Contact the second unit,” he ordered one of his companions.

Alvis pressed onward, making it several blocks without seeing any more AVALANCHE troops. When he reached the residential sector, he ducked into an open doorway as a pair of soldiers emerged from a side street.

“Have you found the girl?” one man asked the other.

“Not yet,” was the reply. “It seems that she’s in this area, though. Once the boss gets here, we’ll start Operation Roller.”

“What’s our posting?”

“The southern passage. We have orders to deal with the Turk who was with the girl as well.”

Their conversation continued on out of earshot as they headed south. Alvis stepped out of his hiding place and watched as they turned down another street and disappeared from sight. At least he knew they hadn’t found the girl yet. Knowing she was in the area, he would have to begin his own search for her. He had to find her first. He didn't know who she was, but if AVALANCHE wanted her, that was enough reason to get her to safety. He could solve the mystery of her identity later.

He began by checking the doorways and alleys off of the street he was on. It was a large neighborhood. She could be anywhere. He was beginning to regret splitting up. Still, he had no choice now but to find her. On a whim, he entered a narrow alleyway leading to the back of one of the homes. Behind it, sitting back away from the street, was a small windowless shack. He crept over to it and cautiously pushed open the door. It swung in easily. He cast a quick look around to be sure he wasn’t being watched, then stepped inside.

“You made it!”

“Shhh,” the Turk warned her, pulling the door shut behind him. “I’m glad you’re safe. Let’s wait here and see how things go. Those guys are still lurking about out there.”

He stood close to the door, ready to defend the space if they were discovered.

“Oh, why does this have to happen to me?” the girl moaned behind him.

“That’s my line,” he quipped.

When she said nothing more, he looked back and saw her standing in the middle of shed with her hands covering her face. She seemed genuinely distressed. Her bare shoulders were hunched up by her ears, and she looked so small and frail in the dim light. Who was this girl?

“Where were you going this late at night, anyway?” he asked her.

“The wind was calling me,” she said quietly, lowering her hands to her sides.

“What?” the Turk asked.

“I felt the wind calling me,” she said again. “That’s why I’m going on a journey.”

“Hmm…” Alvis hummed, turning his attention back to the doorway.

“But really… I just wanted to know what the world was like outside Midgar,” she admitted softly. “Do you know what it’s like?”

“Of course. I’ve been all over the world,” he told her.

“It must be nice…”

Alivs shrugged. “It’s work. If it weren’t for my job, I wouldn’t know either.”

“What are other cities like?”

“Well…” He thought about it. It was actually a harder question to answer than he thought. “Some of them have oceans; others are covered in snow.”

He heard the girl sigh. “They sound so different from this place. I wonder what kinds of flowers grow there…”

She suddenly grew very quiet, before letting out a loud gasp. Alvis jumped.

“What’s wrong!?” he exclaimed.

“I’ve lost my materia,” she moaned, patting down her pockets. “I have to get it back.”

She started towards the door. The Turk stepped in front of her and caught her by the shoulders.

“What are you thinking?” he warned in a hoarse whisper. “You can’t go out there now.”

“But–” she protested.

“Just forget about it,” he ordered her sternly. “If you want materia that badly, I’ll give you one of mine.”

She shook her head vigorously. “It can’t be any one but that one,” she insisted. “It’s the only thing I have of my real mother.”

“Your real mother?”

“I have two mothers,” she said quietly. “They are both important to me.”

After that, they both stood in silence. With a sigh, the Turk removed his hands from her shoulders and turned towards the door. He reached for the handle.

“All right,” he said. “If it’s that important I’ll go find it.”

“Really?” He could hear the hope and happiness in her voice.

He nodded and shook a finger at her. “You wait here.”

“I’m not ‘you’,” she told him, with hands on her hips. “I’m Aerith.”

“Well then, Aerith,” he revised his speech. “Don’t move from this spot.”

“Thank you,” she spoke quietly as he stepped out the door and pulled it shut behind him.

Left alone in the shed, she thought about how she had come to be there. She never imagined she would have been running away with a Turk. She’d always imagined it would be one of them chasing after her one day. She moved to the back of the shed and sat on the ground with her back against the wall. She drew her knees up to her chest and adjusted the drape of her skirt over knees. Then she crossed her arms over her knees and rested her chin on them. Her thoughts drifted to Zack. She hadn't seen him in weeks. She hoped he was all right.

Time seemed to slip by slowly, yet it felt like hardly any time at all before she heard a noise outside. She caught her breath, and her head shot up as the door swung slowly open. To her relief, the Turk entered. She watched as he closed the door silently and stood with his ear against it, listening. Aerith jumped to her feet and stepped towards him, hands clasped together in front of her chest. Presently, he turned away and joined her in the middle of the tight space. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a shimmering green materia, holding it up for her to see.

“This it?” he asked in a whisper.

“Yes!” she said delightedly.

“Here you go then,” he said, dropping it into her cupped hands. “Don't lose it again.”

“Thank you!” she said. “I’m so glad.” And he could tell she truly meant it.

He looked back towards the door and frowned. “Now we just have to wait until they give up and go away. I didn't see any of them just now, so maybe we can go soon.”

They stood there together, quietly listening. She suddenly grabbed his arm.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered.

“There's someone out th–”

The door to the shed burst open, the force knocking it off its hinges as it slammed into the wall and splintered. Aerith screamed, ducking behind the Turk. A commanding figure filled the doorway.

“Shears!?” Alvis growled in recognition.

The man took a step inside. “The girl is coming with us,” he told the Turk matter-of-factly.

Alvis put an arm out to shield Aerith behind him, demanding, “Why? Why are you after Aerith?”

“To protect her from scum like you,” Shears said threateningly, coming closer.

Aerith whimpered quietly behind him, not sounding the least bit comforted by his declaration.

“What are you talking about?” Alvis growled. “I've never done anything–”

“That’s enough! Don’t try to make excuses!” Shears shouted angrily as he lunged at the Turk.

Unable to retreat with Aerith at his back, Alvis had no choice but to meet him head on. Shears moved surprisingly fast and had him by the collar before he had a chance to counter. Effortlessly, he jerked the Turk off the ground before slamming him against a wall. The whole structure shook under the impact, raining down a cloud of dust from the rafters above. Thinking quickly, the Turk drove his knee up into the man's abdomen while also throwing a right hook punch to his jaw. Shears dropped him as he stumbled back from the simultaneous blows. Enraged, he came back swinging hard. Alvis dropped low, allowing the fist to soar over him and into the wall, unleashing another cloud of dust. From his position on the ground, the Alvis launched himself up, angling his trajectory to collide with the man's torso. Wrapping his arms tightly around him, he let his momentum carry them both over as he tackled the larger man to the ground. On top, the Turk took the opportunity to land another well-placed punch to Shears’ face. His advantage was short-lived however, as the AVALANCHE fighter took the blow without flinching and hammered away with his own fists at the Turk's rib cage. Flipping him over, Shears swapped positions with him, pinning the Turk to the ground with a heavy knee in his chest. With one punch to the side of his face, he left Alvis unconscious.

Getting up off the man, Shears turned to face Aerith. She backed away from him timidly. Then, gathering her courage, she darted past him, heading for the door, but was stopped by two more AVALANCHE troops filling the doorway.

“Aerith, wasn't it?” Shears asked behind her.

She spun around to face him.

“You're going to have to come with me,” he said, reaching for her.

The moment his fingers brushed her arm, she jerked away from him. He was surprised by her audacity.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he warned her. “The choice is yours.”

Chapter 34: 11: The Dash to Freedom, part 2

[Shinra Conference Room]

President Shinra locked his eyes on Verdot from across the table. “There have been reports on the Ancient’s movements,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Yes, sir,” the lead Turk confirmed. “I’ve already sent Tseng to bring her in.”

The President leaned back in his chair and let out a long breath. “Verdot,” he began, resting his chin on an upraised fist. “How many years have you been trying to capture her with no success at all?”

“We are doing everything in our power to secure her, sir,” Verdot assured him.

“Send out the army, President,” Rufus Shinra suggested impatiently across the table from his father. He then fixed Verdot with an impudent stare. “The Turks are a waste of time. The Ancient won’t be able to put up much of a resistance if she’s got a bullet in her, will she?”

“We can’t be rough with her,” warned Verdot, meeting Rufus's glare. “After all, we must find out where the Promised Land is from her.”

The President nodded thoughtfully. “That’s right. The Promised Land is a legendary place no one but the Ancients know the location of. If she is harmed before we learn its location, all of our efforts will have been for naught.”

Rufus looked arrogantly towards his father and took the dismissal of his suggestion in glowering silence.

“Ah… the Promised Land…” the President continued. “A place overflowing with boundless mako. If we had the Promised Land, we could draw out the mako without reactors. We’d cut costs and ensure that the company stays at the top for ages to come. When you think about all that which awaits us, a little time means nothing.”

“Hmph,” Rufus snorted derisively and rose abruptly from the table to head for the door. “This is hardly worth the time wasted on it,” he sneered.

Then he left the room, slamming the door loudly behind him as he went.

--

[Sector 5 Slums]

Shears emerged from the shed with the Aerith in tow. He led her quickly through the streets back towards the church, followed closely by the other two troopers. He had agreed not to touch her if she agreed to come quietly.

“This way,” he urged her on faster.

She had no choice but to follow him, with the two other men behind her driving her forward. At the next crossways, a quiet crash erupted from the alley to the right. She felt the men behind her jump at the noise.

“What was that?” one asked, clicking on his flashlight and turning it towards the sound.

Now’s my chance, she thought and darted left towards the other side of the narrow alley.

“No, you don't!” A rough calloused hand clamped down on her arm, jerking her to a sudden stop not more than two steps into her escape. “This way,” Shears said gruffly, dragging her along behind him with a vice-like grip.

He towed her along the last few blocks to the church, never once loosening his hold on her. Her arm began to ache under the constant pressure of his grip, but she refused to give him the pleasure of crying out. Pulling her up the church steps, he plowed through the door at the top and pushed her through ahead of him. Only once she was securely inside the stately building did he finally relinquish his hold on her. Inside, Elfe and Fuhito were standing in the middle of the church and were jolted to attention as the doors banged open. Shears urged the girl forward with a heavy hand on her back.

Elfe turned a smiling face to the young girl as she approached. “Welcome, Aerith. Thank you for coming. I am Elfe, the leader of this anti-Shinra organization.”

Aerith stepped quickly away from Shears, finally putting some distance between them. Crossing her arms, she snapped at the AVALANCHE leader, “I was brought here against my will. You’re worse than Shinra.”

“Against your will?!” Shears exclaimed, stepping around to look her full in the face. “We saved you from getting caught by Shinra back there!” He jabbed a finger over her shoulder towards the church doors behind her.

“You’re wrong!” Aerith shouted back, surprised by her own boldness. “That Turk protected me. Protected me from you. He doesn’t know who I am.”

“I’m terribly sorry for that,” Elfe interjected, trying to diffuse the escalating shouting match erupting between the two of them. “I apologize for my subordinates’ behavior.”

She locked eyes with Shears. With a grumble, he turned away and retreated across the church, leaving them alone.

“What do you want?” Aerith finally asked, sounding more subdued.

“We have brought you here for one reason, and one only,” Elfe began, speaking gently. “We have a proposition for you.”

Unseen above them, Alvis climbed stealthily through the rafters, having entered the church through a large hole in its roof. He swung down and landed silently on the upper floor at the back of the building. He paused to listen, but couldn't make out what was being said from his position. A staircase in the back half of the building led down to the main level. He headed down them.

“We would like to offer you our protection in exchange for your cooperation,” Elfe concluded.

“As the last surviving Ancient, you are targeted by Shinra,” Fuhito jumped in. “We want to overthrow Shinra and prevent them from further utilizing mako. Don't you see? Wouldn’t it be in both of our interest to work together?”

Alvis listened from behind the cracked doors at the back of the chapel. An Ancient? he wondered. He was sure Tseng had been pursuing one for years. Aerith must be who Tseng is after, he thought grimly. Is that why she was trying to leave Midgar? To get away from Shinra?

“You want to know where the Promised Land is?” Aerith asked them plainly.

Fuhito nodded eagerly. “That is correct.”

“We want to protect the Promised Land from Shinra,” Elfe clarified.

“But,” added Fuhito, “we can’t do that if we don’t know where it is. We are on your side. We’re looking out for you. So please, tell us where the Promised Land is.”

Aerith clasped her hands nervously in front of her and looked down at the floor. “But I really don’t know where it is,” she said quietly.

“That can’t be right!” Shears roared, storming back over to them. “The Ancients are supposed to know where it is!”

“Stop it, Shears,” Elfe ordered sternly. “Yelling at Aerith is uncalled for.”

In the silence that followed, Aerith looked up from the ground and stared straight at Elfe. Her head tipped curiously to the side as a fine wrinkle formed across her brow. Her small mouth turned down in a puzzling frown. She took a step towards her.

“Y-You…” she spoke inquisitively.

Elfe took a step back from her, eyeing the young woman warily. The look on the girl’s face made her feel unreasonably uncomfortable. “Is something the matter?” she demanded, her voice sounding hoarse and hollow in the empty church.

Aerith shook her head slowly. “An old voice…” she wondered aloud.

“Have we met somewhere before?” Elfe asked, grasping for any explanation for the young woman's sudden strange behavior. “Unfortunately, I don’t remember too much about my past. All my memories begin from when I joined AVALANCHE.”

Aerith shook her head again. “I don’t think that we’ve met before. But I can hear an old voice from inside of you… It’s familiar, but… it’s in pain…” A look of immense sadness crossed her face, as though feeling that pain as her own.

Elfe backed away another step, her heart beating faster. “Inside me?” she asked, putting a hand to her chest.

“Aerith, please hold on a moment,” Fuhito urged, seeing the unease coming over Elfe.

“Why are you trying to stop her?” Elfe asked, growing more concerned.

“The Ancients can hear the voice of the Planet,” he explained. “So that voice isn’t coming from inside of you–”

The loud whine of a creaking board squealed from the back of the church. They all turned abruptly towards the sound.

“Who’s there!” Shears growled.

The not so stealthy sound of footsteps retreating quickly up the back stairs echoed through the sanctuary.

“It must be the Turk!” Fuhito announced. Turning to the two troopers accompanying them, he ordered, “Eliminate him!”

The two men darted past Aerith and headed up the stairs after him. Aerith watched them climb the back staircase through the now wide open doorway with a hand to her chest and her breathing abated. Seconds later, the Turk emerged from the staircase on the top floor of the church. The two troopers quickly joined him and a scuffle ensued. Painful grunts and growls reverberated from the upper balcony. Aerith looked away, unable to watch.

Fuhito watched the scuffle unsatisfied. “It seems that they are having trouble dealing with him,” he warned Elfe.

“Shears,” she said turning to her companion.

“Understood,” Shears said with a smirk and sprinted for the stairs.

The first of the AVALANCHE fighters fell from the upper floor as he reached the staircase. Taking them three at a time, he bounded up, leaping over the second soldier laying prone at the top of the steps. When he reached the top, he saw the Turk pulling himself up onto one of the wide beams of the trusses overhead.

“You again!” Shears bellowed. “You never learn do you.”

Alvis looked down at him briefly before finishing his climb. He raced precariously along the old beam towards the hole in the roof. Below him, Shears sprinted for the same destination. With a powerful leap, Shears jumped up and grabbed hold of the beam with one hand. With the other, he made a swing for the fleeing Turk. He caught the man firmly by the ankle. The sudden jolt threw the Turk off balance, and he crashed to his knees.

“This is the end for you,” Shears warned him. “Die.”

With a strong yank, he hauled him off the rafter, throwing him out over the open sanctuary below. Alvis plummeted towards the church floor, arms flailing uselessly. His fall ended with a hard landing on a patch of dirt and flowers at the front of the chapel. Above, Shears leaned over the railing and looked down at the motionless Turk. A pleased smirk twisted his lips. He headed back down to the main level.

Aerith stood staring at the fallen Turk, a hand over her mouth. She looked ready to cry. Elfe stood next to her, a comforting arm around the young girl’s shoulders. Fuhito looked on unconcerned as Shears came down off the last step and strode towards the motionless figure among the flowers. He stopped at the edge of the broken up floor boards, arms crossed over his chest as he admired his handiwork. Satisfied, he turned to go. As he did so, a slight movement caught his eye. Looking back, he was shocked to see the Turk slowly pushing himself up to his hands and knees.

“So you’re still alive,” Shears ground out disappointedly.

He marched out into the flowers towards the Turk, crushing some of the delicate blooms beneath his boots. With a sharp swing, he drove the toe of his boot into the man’s stomach. The impact flipped him over and forced the air from his lungs. Alvis landed gasping on his back a few feet away.

“Stop it!” Aerith begged, lunging towards them. “Please!”

Elfe grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her back.

“Please, set your heart as ease, Aerith,” said Fuhito soothingly. “We will be finished with him soon.”

He walked over to join Shears in his beating of the intrusive Turk. Together, they took turns hammering him with punches and kicks.

“Please, stop!” Aerith cried again. Her voice was cracking and tears streamed down her pale cheeks.

When the Turk stopped moving, Shears aimed one more kick at his rib cage for good measure. Aerith wrenched herself away from Elfe’s hands then and ran towards him.

“Aerith!” Elfe yelled after her.

Placing herself between Shears and Alvis, Aerith stood facing the AVALANCHE fighter with arms outspread. Shears stopped mid-swing and stood glaring down at her, chest heaving.

“Aerith, please step aside,” said Fuhito mildly behind her. “That man is a Turk. One of those who want to capture you.”

“No, you back off,” she snapped. “You’ll kill him and trample my flowers!”

“Uuuhhhh,” Elfe moaned painfully behind them.

Shears, Aerith, and Fuhito turned quickly to look at her. She was very pale and stood swaying on unsteady legs, her eyes clamped firmly shut.

“Elfe!” Shears gasped and dashed to her side.

Her legs gave out beneath her, and she fell limply into Shears' arms. Pulling one of her arms over his shoulders, he wrapped the other hand securely around her waist, supporting her sagging frame.

“Looks like it’s time,” said Fuhito grimly. “I guess we have no choice. Let’s withdraw for now.”

“We can’t let Elfe push herself any further,” Shears agreed.

Elfe withdrew her arm from Shears’ shoulders and tried weakly to push him away.

“Shears, I don’t need any help,” she protested wearily. “It’s just the same thing as always. Don’t worry.”

Gathering her strength, Elfe pulled away from her protector and shuffled slowly towards the door of the church. Shears hovered closely behind her, ready to catch her should she collapse again.

Fuhito watched them head for the exit, frowning disappointedly. “Aerith, please think about what we’ve said,” he pleaded before turning to go.

“What’s wrong with Elfe?” Aerith called after him, sounding genuinely concerned.

“She has something like a chronic illness,” he explained, his voice low and monotone. “To cure it, the Promised Land would be required.” He watched for her reaction from the corner of his eye. To his delight, she appeared saddened – if not moved – by the revelation. He stifled a smile. “Well then, until next time,” he said wistfully, and set out after the others.

“But…” Aerith muttered behind him. “I really don’t know where the Promised Land is…”

Fuhito carried on as though he hadn’t heard. When the church was empty, Aerith turned slowly to look at the beaten Turk. To her relief, he was stirring. She knelt beside him cautiously.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her hand hovering just above his shoulder.

Alvis sat up and put a hand to his pounding head. “Yeah,” he managed.

She stood up and backed away from him as he got gingerly to his feet. He hurt all over and moved like it. He looked over at the timid girl staring down at the flowers.

“Hey, Aerith–” She looked up at him. “–You want to leave, don’t you?”

She nodded silently and looked back down at the blooms.

“Then go. You should go if that’s what you want,” he told her urgently. “Run to a place where no one will ever find you. If you stay here, Shinra will come for you.”

“But…” she looked at him warily, her eyes filled with sadness and confusion. “Don’t you want to know where the Promised Land is too?”

“Not interested,” Alvis said honestly, offering her a weak smile. “Besides, I’m off duty until tomorrow. So don’t worry, I won’t do anything.”

He saw her smile. “Thank you,” she said graciously. “But… It’s all right now. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“If I run, I’d just be letting them win,” she explained simply. “And the flowers in this church and in the garden… If I’m not here to take care of them, they can’t grow. I’m sure Mom would worry too.”

Alvis shoved his hands in his pockets and studied the strange girl. He smiled with her. “…I see. That’s what you’ve decided then.”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod.

“Well then, let’s get you back home,” he ordered her, holding a hand out towards the church doors. “I’ll see that you make it safely back.”

“Thank you.”

Aerith led the way out of the church, holding the door open for Alvis as he shuffled through behind her. With a hand on his arm, she helped him down the front steps as he took them stiffly one stair at a time. Half way down, he heard Aerith gasp. He looked up. Tseng stood frowning at the bottom of the steps, his brow wrinkled in concern.

“Tseng, sir!?” Alvis exclaimed. He felt Aerith release his arm and pull back behind him.

“Alvis… Aerith? What’s going on?” Tseng asked sternly, his narrowed eyes shifting from one to the other. “What are you doing together?”

Alvis looked over his shoulder at the girl behind him. She didn't look frightened per se, but she was obviously uncomfortable with Tseng's sudden presence. “Aerith?”

“I–” she stammered. Her eyes looked past him to Tseng.

“Aerith,” Alvis said quietly, looking intently at her frightened face until her eyes returned to his. “Can you get back home by yourself?” he asked.

She nodded quickly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then leave this to me,” he told her and signaled for her to go.

“Alvis!?” Tseng yelled sharply.

“Go, Aerith!” Alvis urged her. “Hurry!”

Aerith skipped down the last couple of steps and ran in the direction away from the other Turk. Tseng started after her, hand outstretched. Leaping down the remaining stairs, Alvis put himself between his superior and his intended target.

“What is the meaning of this?” Tseng demanded of the subordinate Turk, his focus remaining on Aerith’s diminishing form behind him.

“Tseng, sir, I’m sorry,” he began. “But I’m off duty until tomorrow.”

Tseng glared at him, unsatisfied with his excuse.

“Tseng,” he started again. “Don’t go after her.”

Tseng grunted at his insinuation and took a step back. “You can calm down. I’m not going to do anything to Aerith.”

“But… the company wants her right?” Alvis pressed.

“That is true,” Tseng admitted, crossing his arms. “The company has ordered me to secure her.”

An amused snort escaped Alvis. “That’s called ‘going after’,” he argued.

“No. You’re wrong,” Tseng countered coolly. “I only want to see if I can get Aerith’s cooperation. It’s not just because it’s my job. It’s what I want as well.”

“What you want?”

“Aerith’s cooperation would be the world’s salvation,” he explained, turning away from the other Turk. “Her cooperation means that the world will be a better place for everybody. That’s why I want her cooperation. But… She doesn’t want anything to do with Shinra.”

“I see… So that’s why this case is still unresolved even after all these years.”

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes,” said Tseng, looking past Alvis in the direction Aerith had gone. “I’ll wait for her as long as I have to for her to change her mind.”

Lowering his arms, Tseng turned his gaze to Alvis. Taking in his rough condition, he held back an amused chuckle and headed back to headquarters.

Chapter 35: 12: The Awakening of the Dark Harbinger

[Shinra Conference Room]

Verdot shoved open the double doors to the conference room and entered with urgency. The thick carpet underfoot muted his purposeful strides as he approached the long conference table at which President Shinra sat in his usual place at the far end. At his sudden entrance, the President lifted his head, jerking up his gaze from the papers littering the table in front of him. Still halfway across the room, the director began addressing him, speaking in quick, staccato syllables.

“Mr. President, we have an emergency situation. The workers stationed at the Nibelheim Reactor have all disappeared without a trace.”

“What?” President Shinra bolted up from his chair, sending it crashing into the wall behind him as a look of stern apprehension crossed his face. “Find out what happened,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

“It is our most important reactor,” the President recounted. Leaving his station, he began to pace the length of the room, walking the side of the table opposite of Verdot. “It’s a historically significant place – our company’s first reactor. Then there’s also what’s inside the reactor itself…” Trailing off, he peered across the table to Verdot with a questioning lift of his brow.

Verdot met his gaze without flinching, confirming his complete and total understanding of the unmentioned matter. “I understand perfectly, sir,” he assured him. “The secret in that reactor mustn’t get out.”

 

[21 September 0002]

[ 6:00pm]

[Nibel Mountain]

 

The Shinra helicopter skimmed over the twisting peaks of the Nibel Mountain Range. Dark clouds gathered overhead while lush coniferous forests stretched up the mountainsides below like long pointed talons. At the base of the mountains, the small, quaint village of Nibelheim sat nestled among the rustic scenery; and just north of the town, a large domed metal structure protruded from the landscape, looking strangely out of place in the remote mountainside cirque. Emma leaned forward against her harness, straining to better see out of the cockpit window.

“That must be it,” she said, pointing towards the right side of the cabin windshield. “I can see the Nibelheim Reactor, sir.”

“That’s the company’s first reactor,” Tseng told her as he craned his neck to see where she was pointing and banked the chopper towards the site.

“Built fifty years ago, right?” asked Emma with a hint of admiration in her voice. “Then that old thing has been through a lot.”

“Yes,” Tseng agreed. “But it’s fallen into a bit of disrepair over time.”

“The workers at the reactor all went missing,” Emma recalled grimly. “Could it be because the reactor’s so old? Like, maybe a beam broke, and they all fell into the lifestream or something like that.”

“I wonder,” Tseng mused, then shook his head. “It’s your job to find out what really happened here,” he reminded her.

“Right.”

Removing her headset, Emma jumped up from her seat and headed for the back of the helicopter. While Tseng moved the chopper into position above the reactor, she hurriedly went about strapping herself into a parachute harness. Buckling the final strap across her chest, she stepped up to the chopper’s open side and stood peering down at her landing area. The clearing around the reactor wasn't very large, but would still be doable.

“Ready?” Tseng called back from the cockpit.

“Ready!” she shouted back. “Anytime!”

“All right,” said Tseng, clearing her to jump. “It's up to you now.”

“Got it. Here I go!”

Leaning out of the helicopter, Emma pushed off and dropped into the open air below. As she exited the aircraft, a strong gust of wind rose up, buffeting the chopper unexpectedly. Inside the cockpit, Tseng tightened his grip on the yoke as he fought to bring the helicopter back into balance. Squinting through the windshield, he sought to maintain his bearings as the turbulence continued for several more seconds. When the winds finally died back down, he leaned towards the cockpit windows, eyes hurriedly scanning the air below for Emma.

Grasping the cord at her left shoulder, Emma yanked it and deployed her parachute. As the nylon sail snapped open above her, the landscape beneath her suddenly shifted sporadically. Caught up by the strong wind gusts, her chute pulled her harshly to the east of the reactor site. Tightening her grip on the steering lines, she pulled them in such a way as to correct her course, but it was too late. The wind had already pushed her over the side of the mountain and deposited her downhill of the reactor. Focusing on the new ground below her, she drew up her feet and landed precariously on a patch of loose rock on the side of the mountain, sending a shower of small stones skittering down the steep mountainside to her left. Fighting off the collapsed parachute draped over her shoulders, she began the process of unbuckling and stripping off the now useless harness.

“That worked out well,” she grumbled as she shucked the straps off her shoulders and stood looking around, trying to ascertain her location. As she did, her radio sounded off. Snatching it from her belt, she turned her attention to the sky, seeking out Tseng’s helicopter that she could no longer see.

“Are you all right?” asked Tseng over the speaker.

“I’m fine,” she reported. “But it looks like I’ll have to hike back up to the reactor.”

“It is directly west of your current position,” confirmed Tseng. “You’re going to have to walk; there’s no other way from where you’re at.”

“Got it.”

Returning the radio to her belt, Emma turned her gaze up the mountainside. A narrow path, barely visible to the untrained eye, weaved back and forth up the rocky cliff side. Keeping her eyes trained on it, she started up.

--

“Wait! I said wait!” cried the young girl.

Ahead of her, a small, white feline danced around a boulder, flicking its tail playfully as it rubbed its whiskered cheek against the rough, sandy surface.

“Oooh. You’re always running away. Come on, we’re going back home,” she crooned to the cat. “There are dangerous things in these mountains.”

Bending over, she reached down and scooped up the frisky feline. Cradling it against her chest, she smiled as she buried her face in its soft, fluffy fur. The cat nuzzled her back, bumping its pink nose under her chin and purring approvingly.

“Don’t run away again,” she scolded as she turned back towards the mountainous path that would take them back to Nibelheim.

Stepping onto the path, she absently rubbed the cat’s ears as its rumbley purr vibrated against her chest. Behind them, a disturbance of loose rock sent clattering echoes chasing after them. Her steps slowed as she turned warily around to study the landscape behind them. The barren mountainside was dotted with large boulders and piles of loosely gathered till. Scattered trees stood in small clusters on either side of the path, and a gentle breeze swayed their branches. Nothing else moved, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching them.

She felt the cat grow tense in her arms as his purring came to an abrupt halt and he dug his claws into her shoulder. Tightening her grip on him, she turned another complete circle, eyes scanning the rocks on either side of the path.

The sound came again: the skittering of disturbed stones and a click click click.

With her breath caught in her throat, she whirled around to face the sound coming from behind her. Atop a nearby boulder, a large mantis-like Kimura bug sat perched with the claws at the tips of its long legs tapping against the stone. Tilting its head, its round, bulging eyes studied the girl and her pet kitty.

The girl froze. Keeping its eerie stare fixed on her, the monster’s oversized mandibles opened and closed, clicking out a staccato of notes. In response, a second bug came scurrying over the rocks on the girl’s other side. Moving slowly, she turned to face it and met its gaze. The bug stared back as it swung a long, hooked appendage curiously towards her. The girl pulled her cat close as she backed hurriedly away from it and screamed.

--

Emma grumbled as she pushed aside a low hanging tree branch and carefully stepped over a protruding tree root. With a sigh, she checked her watch. This hike had definitely not been figured into her schedule. Looking to the sky, she noted the dark clouds still looming overhead. With any luck, they would hold off on soaking her with an unexpected rain shower. She couldn’t really afford any more delays.

“Aaaaahhhhhh!”

Emma froze as a high pitched shriek echoed through the mountain air. Turning on the narrow path, she tried to pinpoint the location of the distressed sound. Sprinting down the boulder-strewn hillside to her left, she stumbled across another narrow footpath. Following it towards the sound, she rounded a steep section of cliff and nearly collided with a teenage girl fleeing down the mountain path towards her. Throwing up her arms, she caught the girl by the shoulders before she could fall and absently noted the bug-eyed feline she held clutched to her chest. Panting, the girl tore her panic-stricken eyes from her to peer back up the path behind her. Emma followed her gaze to see two large Kimura bugs following after her. Setting the girl aside, she stepped past her to place herself between her and the pursuing predators.

“Stand back,” she warned her as she lifted the tail of her jacket and pulled the gun from the holster at her left hip.

Stumbling to the edge of the path, the girl squatted down behind a waist-tall boulder and peered around it as the Turk held her gun up at arm’s length and began to fire. She flinched at the loud crack of the pistol and felt the cat dig its claws into her chest as a second retort echoed through the air. As the second monster collapsed to the ground, she watched the Turk lower her weapon and return it to its holster with a cool, unflustered professionalism. When Emma turned back to her, she emerged from her shelter behind the boulder and stepped out to meet her on the path.

“Um… Thank you,” she said shyly as she tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. A light blush dusted her cheeks as she felt the Turk’s gaze studying her. Reaching up, she distracted herself by adjusting the stampede string of her hat that had pulled tight against her throat.

“Are you all right?” Emma finally asked her when she had finished looking her up and down.

The girl nodded timidly. “Yeah, I guess…”

“Good,” she said absently as she turned to take in their location. She figured they were close to the reactor. “Still, what are you doing out here in the first place?” she quizzed her.

“Well, my cat ran into the mountains,” she explained, stroking the feline in her arms. “I was trying to get him back when those monsters attacked.”

“He ran into the mountains so you went after him?” Emma repeated slowly to emphasize the stupidity of her actions then scolded, “Do you know what’s in these mountains!?”

The girl's eyes narrowed as she stared back at the Turk incredulous. “Of course,” she shot back. “There isn’t a person in the village who doesn’t. They say that anyone who tries to cross these mountains will never come out alive.”

“That’s right,” the Turk agreed, staring down at her with arms crossed like a disappointed parent. “There’s also an important Shinra facility in these mountains. That’s why I was going to ask you to leave. But it appears to be too dangerous for you to go back alone.”

The girl stood quietly, suddenly timid beneath her gaze.

“Guess it can’t be helped,” Emma went on, softening her stance a bit. “Wait here for a minute. When I’ve finished my business here, I’ll take you back to the village.”

“Thank you,” said the girl quietly.

Satisfied, Emma cast her one last glance before turning back up the path. The loose, silty soil crunched underfoot as she sidestepped the carcasses of the monsters. She looked down at them in passing, then paused to look back at the girl. She had moved to sit atop the boulder at the side the path and was stroking the cat now sitting on her lap. “Do you have a name?” she called back to her.

Looking up from her feline, the girl stared back at the Turk and told her, “Tifa.”

“All right then, Tifa. I’ll be back soon, so don’t move from this spot.”

Tifa nodded quickly as she held her cat closer and busied herself with picking bits of leaves and dirt from its matted fur.

Satisfied that the teenager would stay put, Emma proceeded up the path towards the reactor. Now that she had reached an actual road, the going was much easier and far faster. The reactor was less than a hundred meters ahead. In no time, she reached a rise in the path which soon leveled out shortly before reaching the reactor. With the facility finally in sight, the Turk frowned. The entire site was congested with monsters of various kinds. Getting inside the reactor was out of the question. She called Tseng.

“Tseng, we’ve got big trouble. The reactor site is crawling with monsters. I’ve never seen anything like it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen so many monsters at once. Something must be attracting them to the reactor.”

“There are that many?” Tseng asked gravely. “Were you able to get inside?”

“No,” she said, looking back down towards the reactor with a frown. “I don’t think I can with all the monsters there.”

“I see.” Tseng became quiet as he considered the situation. “All right, pull out. We have no other choice. The investigation will have to wait for now.”

“Understood,” Emma agreed. “But we can’t hold it off forever. What are we going to do?”

“I’ll discuss measures with Verdot,” concluded Tseng.

“Isn’t the Chief away right now?” she asked. “I heard that no one’s been able to reach him.”

“This is an emergency situation. I’ll find a way to get a hold of him,” Tseng said with finality. “Meanwhile, head back to town and await further instructions.”

“Yes, sir.”

Pocketing her phone, she backed cautiously away from the ridge and headed back down the mountain path to collect Tifa. To her relief, the teenager was waiting where she had left her. When she saw the Turk approaching, she hopped up from the boulder and waited as she came closer. As she did, she couldn’t help but note that the Turk didn’t look happy. Dropping her gaze, she occupied herself with stroking her cat's back, eliciting a comforting purr from him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” said the Turk as she passed by without slowing. She sounded distracted. “Come on. We’re leaving now. Do you know the way back to Nibelheim?”

“Mmhmm,” Tifa nodded.

“Then lead the way,” the Turk said with a wave of her hand.

Stepping past Emma, Tifa started down the narrow winding path. As they went, a comfortable silence fell between them, interrupted only by the crunching of rocky soil beneath their feet. Staying one step ahead of the Turk, Tifa picked her way down the easiest paths. The going was long, but easy.

“Say…” Tifa finally broke the silence.

“Yes?” asked Emma.

“Can I ask you something? Do you know a boy called Cloud?”

“Cloud…” Emma grew quiet as she tried to put a face to the name. “I met someone with that name on a mission once. Is he a friend of yours?”

“We’re childhood friends,” Tifa explained while trying to suppress the smile threatening her lips. “He left the village two years ago, saying that he was going to join SOLDIER.”

“I see…” Emma thought about it some more, and, not wanting to get the girl’s hopes up, concluded, “It might just have been someone with the same name.”

Just then her phone chimed from her pocket. She lifted a dismissive hand to Tifa as she turned aside to answer it.

“Sephiroth and his team have been sent out,” reported Tseng.

Emma stopped in her tracks. “Sephiroth has!?” she asked, shocked that the high-ranking SOLDIER was getting involved in the reactor investigation.

“It was the President’s decision,” Tseng said dryly, making it obvious that he did not agree with the move either. “I couldn’t get in touch with Verdot, so we have no other choice.”

“I guess so… I’m sure Sephiroth can deal with those monsters,” Emma said, trying to look at the bright side.

“Even so, the team will need a guide to expedite the trip up the mountain,” said Tseng. “Find someone local who knows the way.”

“Got it… Hey, I might have someone. Hold on.” Removing the phone from her ear, she covered the speaker and turn back to Tifa. “Tifa.”

The girl stopped petting the cat and looked up. “Yes?”

“You remember the way back to the reactor, right?” she asked her.

“Yes,” she answered tentatively.

“Think you can lead an investigation team up here?”

“Forget it,” she said emphatically, shaking her head and taking a step back from her. “The mountain path is full of monsters.”

“You won’t have to worry about that. Sephiroth will be leading the team,” she disclosed. “With him, you’ll be just as safe as if you were in the village.”

Tifa suddenly stilled as her eyes grew wide. “Sephiroth!” she exclaimed. “The SOLDIER 1st Class Sephiroth?”

Emma recognized the star-struck look in the teenage girl’s eyes and couldn’t blame her for her apparent excitement at the proposition. Best to take advantage of it. “That’s right,” she confirmed, lifting her voice to further encourage the young girl’s enthusiasm.

“Okay. I’ll do it!” promised Tifa.

“Great,” she told her and raised the phone back to her ear. “Tseng, sir. I’ve found a guide,” she reported.

Notes:

The game's chapter ends with the Nibelheim Incident. Some aspects are different from the OG and CC versions and we are only shown events from the Turk's perspective. As this is only a part of my entire compilation novel, I have not written a strictly BC version of Nibelheim, choosing instead to blend the many versions of it from OG, CC, LO, a little BC, and eventually Remake/Rebirth. Therefore, that part of the story is still a work in progress. The next chapter I post here will pick up right after the destruction of Nibelheim.
For those of you following along, thank you for your interest! I know I've been a little hit or miss with posting every week, but I appreciate you all nonetheless :)

Chapter 36: 13: The Scar that Sunders the Calm

Notes:

Some details in the opening scene involving Hojo also come from Lost Order.

[1 October 0002]

[2:00am]

[Nibelheim]

 

Professor Hojo flitted about the Mt. Nibel reactor, eyes and ears seeking to be everywhere at once. Soon after Shinra had received word of the incident in Nibelheim, the reactor was crawling with Turks and white-cloaked researchers. The Turks, who had arrived first, had located two bodies at the scene inside the reactor: a SOLDIER 1st Class and an infantryman. Both alive but unresponsive.

Hojo looked up from the bottom of the steps. His men had divided into two groups to prep the two survivors for transport. Representing the Turks, Reno, Rude, and Emma stood watch over the handling of the blond infantryman at the top of the stairs. Beyond them was the Jenova chamber. Inside, the shattered tank containing the remains of her was also under scrutiny. Who had broken it and why? And, more importantly, where was Jenova’s head?

Outside the desecrated chamber, two of his lab assistants placed the beaten body of the SOLDIER – Zack Fair, he’d been told – on a stretcher and carried him down the stairs. Hojo watched them descend, vaguely aware of the approaching presence of Tseng from the direction of the reactor’s entrance. The Turk joined him at the base of the steps, eyes intent on the stretcher as it passed between them. Hojo held up a hand for the procession to stop. As he stooped over the man onboard, Tseng glanced down at him. He immediately recognized the SOLDIER’s bloody face. Zack. He’d known of course that he’d been one of the SOLDIERs on the mission detail to the reactor. He shouldn’t have been surprised. As he stood studying the man, he noted the shallow rise and fall of his chest. His breathing was ragged and labored, but he looked as though he stood a good chance of surviving the ordeal. He was a SOLDIER after all.

“Take this one to Shinra Mansion’s basement,” Hojo ordered as he straightened and took a step back from the stretcher.

“Yes, sir,” one of the men replied and started off with Zack in tow.

As they moved away, Tseng knew that Zack’s chance of survival had just plummeted. Anything to do with the mansion’s basement meant only death for those involved. He tried not to think of what experiments Hojo could possibly have in mind. Although he’d never witnessed the man’s work himself, he’d heard enough to have some very unpleasant ideas of how the man thought. Pressing his lips in a grim line, he pried his eyes away from Zack. He may as well consider the SOLDIER already dead.

Beside him, Hojo looked back up the stairs towards the Jenova chamber. A quiet hum of amusement reverberated in the man’s throat. “Sephiroth,” he said with a sigh, “you certainly went to extremes.”

Tseng lifted his eyes to the chamber. He could see Reno shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot as he peered into the open chamber. Had Hojo been up there yet? Swallowing his discomfort, Tseng returned his attention to the scientist and cleared his throat.

A barely perceptible sigh lifted Hojo’s shoulder before acknowledging the Turk’s presence. “It’s you,” he greeted in a preoccupied manner over his shoulder. “Director Verdot is doing well, I suppose?”

“Yes,” Tseng answered curtly.

“I see,” Hojo went on, sounding distracted. With niceties aside, he turned back to business. “How is your handling of the village going?”

“We’re taking care of it now,” the Turk reported. “…But, sir, don’t you think this is going a little far?”

“No one asked your opinion,” Hojo said in a dismissing tone. “I don’t care how you see it. Just hurry and finish it up.”

Tseng tipped his head in subservience as a second stretcher made its way down the reactor stairs. He saw Hojo eye it eagerly as it approached. This one bore the infantryman.

“Oh, wait,” the scientist said, stopping the procession. Bending over the prone figure, he adjusted the glasses on the end of his nose and smiled deeply. “This one here… intriguing, most intriguing!” he gushed. “He’ll make a fine test subject!”

Tseng looked hesitantly into the face of the doomed man – no, not a man, but a boy. He was only a teenager, but his life was about to end in a terrible fashion at the hands of science. Tseng turned his face away in disgust, unable to bear the sight that the cruel fates had placed upon the young man before him.

“Tseng,” Hojo said sharply, drawing him back. “Get the manor ready.”

“Yes, sir.”

Hojo chuckled quietly to himself. “To think that I’d be working there again after all these years…”

* * *

The stench of smoldering wood and burnt flesh wafted up from the charred remains of Nibelheim. The sun was just starting to rise over the decimated village and it looked even more grim in the daylight. Not a single building was left standing. A few of the villagers appeared to have survived the carnage and were wandering around the maze of destruction in a daze.

How could this have happened? Cissnei walked quietly through what was left of the town, trying to fight the feelings of numbness turning her stomach. She had been sent to some bad scenes before, but never anything like this. Even Reno and Rude were more quiet than usual. She looked down and saw a child's doll among the rubble. She bent to pick it up. Black soot stained the soft toy from head to foot. She tried not to think about the child it might have belonged to. As she stood holding the ruined doll, her phone went off, sounding irreverently loud in the wake of such a disaster.

It was Tseng. “It’s me. What’s the situation?”

“I’ve just arrived at the village,” she answered slowly.

“Good,” Tseng said curtly. The line was quiet for a moment, neither Turk wishing to speak. She heard Tseng swallow loudly before saying, “You can see the large manor outside the village, right?”

“I see it.”

“I need you to go there,” he ordered.

“But shouldn't we be looking for survivors?” she asked with concern.

“This is an important assignment,” Tseng emphasized, his tone now void of emotion. “Go to the laboratory beneath the manor. The equipment there needs to be checked.”

“Can't I do that any time?” she asked, sounding impatient.

Tseng took a deep breath. “As of today it will be used for research again. Professor Hojo has a new experiment in mind. That is why an inspection is necessary.”

Cissnei was quiet for long time, but finally answered. “All right. I'll take care of it.”

“Call me when you get there,” Tseng instructed. “I'll explain more then.”

“Understood.” Cissnei slowly lowered the phone and looked again at the doll in her hand. Tossing it down, she strode quickly out of the village towards the manor.

--

The front door of the Shinra Manor swung open easily on silent hinges and sunlight flooded into the mansion for the first time in nearly twenty-five years. A fine layer of dust covered the white marble floor. The six armed chandelier still hung from the ceiling over the front foyer, and the red carpet runners pointing the way up the stairs were faded with age.

Cissnei entered the stately old building, stepping lightly. She reached over to the light switch to the right of the door and flipped it up. Nothing happened. She tried again, but still nothing. Stepping over to one of the oversized windows, she grabbed hold of the heavy floor-to-ceiling velvet curtains and pulled them aside, releasing a cloud of fine dust into the air. Stepping back, she waved the dust away from her face as she called Tseng.

“I'm here,” she reported.

“Good. The professor wants us to destroy some secret reports from the archive first.”

“Destroy secret reports?” she questioned. “Why would he want that?”

“The manor will become very crowded soon,” Tseng explained unenthusiastically. “The secret reports need to be disposed of before that. The archive is locked, so you may have to break in…”

“I can handle it,” Cissnei insisted.

“Good. I’m switching you over to Professor Hojo now,” Tseng told her before passing the phone to the professor.

Hojo came on. “The archive is located in the west-most portion of the second floor. The reports there contain top-secret data, so don’t look.”

“Understood,” she assured him. “Which reports should I incinerate?”

“The one that’s marked number 5-7-6-3,” recited Hojo.

“Understood, sir.”

Cissnei turned away from the window and started up the stairs. At the top, a hallway ran to the right and to the left. She turned left. Several doors lined the west wing of the mansion. She made her way down the hall, checking each door as she went. All rooms were either abandoned bedrooms or were empty all together. The last door at the end was locked.

This must be it, she concluded.

She pulled a thin lock-picking wire from her belt and knelt down in front of the door. She inserted the tool into the lock below the doorknob, and, a few seconds later, the door swung open with a loud creak. Cissnei stood up and pushed the door open the rest of the way. The archive was a small room lined with shelf after shelf of journals and files. She walked over to the first bookcase and pulled a file folder out. 1124. She returned it and moved down the shelf. Thumbing through the files, she reached the 5000s. A little further… here it is: No. 5763. She pulled out the thick manila file folder. As she did so, a yellowed sheet of paper slipped out of the gaping file and floated to the floor. Picking it up, she skimmed the sheet. It appeared to be a concluding report.

"The victims from [redacted] were used for the experiment… the theory that the human body can be fused with materia… because of this, the experiment failed. In conclusion, direct fusion of materia and the human body is impossible. For a normal human, an intermediary artificial limb is necessary…"

Cissnei quickly shoved the page back inside the overstuffed file and tucked it under her arm. She called Tseng.

“I’ve found the report.”

“Well done,” Tseng said, sounding distracted. “I’m handing you over to Professor Hojo again.”

She heard a muffled sound as the phone switched hands. “You didn’t look inside did you?” he began.

“No, sir,” she said, trying to hide her annoyance. “I’ll incinerate it right away.”

“There's a fireplace on the first floor,” Hojo suggested. “Use it to erase all traces of that report.”

“Understood, sir.”

* * *

A second Shinra helicopter descended rapidly towards the black marred landscape of Nibelheim. Chief Verdot watched the ground quickly approaching as the pilot skillfully maneuvered towards a clearing just south of the decimation. The level of destruction was beyond anything he had anticipated. It reminded him of another tragedy. He rubbed a hand over his face as though trying to wipe the images from his mind. He had to focus on the current situation.

The helicopter landed, stirring up a dark cloud of cinders and ash. He remained in the chopper as he waited for the air to clear. Looking through the cockpit window, he could see Reno and Rude making their way through the rubble, searching for survivors. Streaks of soot marked their faces. On the other side of the village, he saw Tseng escorting Professor Hojo back from the mako reactor. Professor Hojo. Why was he here already?

Steeling his resolve, Verdot disembarked and stepped into the disaster zone. Cinders crunched loudly under his feet as he picked his way through a narrow footpath in the rubble that used to be the main road through town. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air. The old familiar scent threatened to choke him. Unwelcome images returned once again to his mind’s eye – images he thought he had forgotten. Forcing his thoughts back under control, he proceeded to convene with Tseng and the professor.

Tseng hailed him as he came near. “Sir! You’ve finally returned.”

“I rushed here as soon as I heard from the President,” Verdot assured him, but avoided meeting his eyes.

“You took your time,” Hojo scoffed. “The head of the Turks being absent at such a time. What in the world could you have been doing…?”

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” Verdot answered curtly, refusing to acknowledge Hojo’s goading.

But Hojo wasn’t done with the Turk. His eyes surveyed him from behind the glint of his round spectacles. A look of knowing passed between the two, bringing a malicious glint to the depth of Hojo’s eyes. “Ah, this scene…” he said with a long sigh. “It sure brings back memories.”

A grimace passed quickly over Verdot’s face, but he said nothing, choosing to remain silent on the matter.

“Yes,” Hojo pressed on. “It reminds me of the day I bestowed the blessings of my research on you.” He paused to watch Verdot for a reaction, but got none. Undeterred, he continued, “And now I will begin an entirely new experiment.”

“Will you be using the manor?” Verdot inquired brusquely.

Hojo smiled. “That’s right.”

“It hasn’t been used for some time.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Hojo assured him dismissively. “Your subordinates are checking the condition of the laboratory as we speak.”

The lead Turk followed Hojo’s gaze towards the old manor to the east of the village. The thought of one of his men going there alone unnerved him. Terrible things had taken place in that mansion, things that he hoped would remain in the past.

--

Cissnei carried the thick file down the manor’s grand staircase, running one hand down the long, dust-covered handrail. Pausing on the bottom step, she blew the dust from her fingers and scanned the foyer. A large room opened up to her right. At the far end of it, she could see the fireplace. Stepping down, she walked hurriedly across the white marble and entered the empty room off the front foyer. The room seemed smaller on the inside than it had appeared from the staircase and was empty except for an old, wooden table and the fireplace.

Setting the file on the bare table, she went to examine the fireplace. It was obvious that it hadn’t been used in years, much like the rest of the manor. Kneeling down, she stuck her head inside and looked up. The damper was closed. Finding the lever, she pulled it down, opening up the flue. A cascade of ash fell down and spilled out over the hearth. She coughed on the dust as she took a step back and waved her arms to clear the air. Retrieving the report, she tossed it in the firebox. Thankful for her good fortune, she found an old matchbook on top of the mantle. Striking a match, she crouched down in front of the fireplace and held the small flame against one corner of the file folder. The dry, yellowed paper caught easily, and the flame spread quickly across the pages.

Standing up, Cissnei stepped back and crossed her arms as she watched the flame grow to engulf the confidential documents. Her mission complete, she turned away from the fireplace and started back for the front foyer. As she turned, a tall figure filled the doorway ahead of her, startling her.

“Sir!” she gasped, catching her breath as she recognized the Chief. “You’re back?”

“I am,” he said, sounding both weary and relieved. “But more importantly, are you all right?”

“Yes,” she said, slightly confused by his apparent concern. Then she revealed, “I was just about to head to the laboratory.”

Verdot’s face turned grim. “Has anything strange happened?”

“No,” Cissnei replied, her answer sounding more like a question.

“There have been many incidents here in the past,” he tried to explain. “That’s why the facility was abandoned.”

“Oh…”

“I’ll go with you to the laboratory,” Verdot announced, abruptly turning back to the foyer. “Follow me.”

Cissnei ran around the table and hurried to catch up with him. Crossing the foyer, he opened a door under the main staircase, revealing a long flight of stairs going down into the basement. By flipping a switch in the stairwell, he turned on a row of lights that illuminated the way down. Cissnei followed him closely as they descended, their footsteps echoing eerily in the still silence of the old mansion. She could feel the air change as they got closer to the lab. It felt cooler, and an uncomfortable dampness enveloped them. She attempted to rub the chill from her arms, but it did no good.

At the bottom, the steps opened up into a wide chamber with doors all the way around it. Directly opposite the stairs, a large metal door stood out from the others. Verdot strode towards it without hesitation and pulled it open. It squealed loudly on unoiled hinges, but Verdot seemed impervious to the sound. Cissnei followed him inside and was met by a blast of stale air. She wrinkled her nose as an unpleasant metallic taste seemed to fill her mouth. She looked over at the Chief. An uncomfortable grimace wrinkled his face as well.

“This place is as unpleasant as ever,” he announced grimly.

A small electrical box was mounted on the wall just to the right of the door. He opened the metal cover and looked inside. He flipped a couple breakers and pulled a large lever on the side of the box. Cissnei jumped as the overhead lights flashed on to reveal the extent of the lab. Several machines hummed to life as well, giving the whole room the sound of a muted beehive. Verdot cast a quick glance about the room.

“That should do it,” he announced quickly, sounding eager to leave. “Looks like everything is in working order. Let’s head back.”

“Sir?” Cissnei asked quietly. “What does the professor plan to do here?”

“I have no idea,” he answered briskly. “His experiments are none of our concern.”

As he turned to leave, an open door on the other side of the lab caught his eye. Pausing, he stared at it for a long time.

“Sir?” Cissnei asked.

Verdot remained silent. She saw his fist clench tight at his side. Abruptly, he turned and walked slowly towards the room. He paused with his hand on the door frame before going inside. Cissnei followed.

The room itself was small compared to the rest of the laboratory. Along one wall were two gurneys. On the other was a long table, on which were several human body parts. Verdot was standing at the table, staring down at the various limbs. As he picked one up, Cissnei was able to see that the limbs were merely prosthetics. She let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Verdot gazed down at the arm, but he did not see it. His breathing quickened, despite his desire for it not to do so. A slight tremble took to his hands, and he quickly set the prosthetic back on the table. Placing both palms flat on the table, Verdot leaned over it heavily, his head bowed. He could feel his breathing becoming rapid, blowing forcefully in and out of his nostrils.

“Sir?” Cissnei asked again, sounding frightened by his display.

Verdot raised his head, but did not look at her. On the wall nearby hung a tall mirror. In it, he saw his entire reflection from head to toe. And what he saw was a weary man, aged beyond his years. Survivor. Failure. Murderer. The words kept coming to his mind uninvited. With a groan of rage, he stood up tall, and raised his right hand towards his miserable reflection. A small fireball erupted from his palm and shot towards the mirror, engulfing it in a small explosion. A short, startled scream escaped Cissnei as she closed her eyes and covered her ears. When she looked again, the Chief was still standing with his arm raised towards a blackened hole in the wall. A thin veil of smoke was fading from the air in front of him.

“S-Sir?” Cissnei stammered in shock. “Your arm…?”

“… … …It’s artificial,” he finally answered, lowering his hand slowly to his side. “That is why it can equip materia.”

She stared at him in silence, as she processed his confession. “Why would you…?”

“To be able to keep up my work as a Turk,” he said, turning again to take in the contents of the small room.

She followed his gaze around the room once more. Something about this place had brought out a side of the Chief she had never seen before. He acted like a soul in torment, a far cry from the confident and often ruthless leader he always seemed to be.

“Sir,” she dared, “what happened here?”

 

An infantryman directed a large truck towing a long-range ballistic rocket to a designated space in the open expanse of wilderness. A squadron of engineers and other infantrymen set about stabilizing the launch structure. A burst of static erupted from a radio inside the truck. The infantryman overseeing the strike team raised the radio to his ear.

“A-Team here.”

“Commence the bombing operation,” Verdot's voice came across the speaker, although it crackled with excessive static. “The target is located fifty kilometers north of Kalm.”

The infantryman held the radio closer. “Kalm!?” he shouted. “That’s not what we were told.”

“Hey! Can you hear me!?” Verdot shouted back desperately into the radio.

“Hey!” the infantryman echoed, not seeming to hear the Chief. “Please respond!”

A second infantryman approached the strike team leader. “What's wrong?”

“I can’t get a clear signal,” he complained, twisting the radio dial and adjusting the antennae.

“Are we going ahead with the mission?” the second man asked. “I say we hurry up and get it over with. What’s our target?”

His leader answered slowly, “Kalm, it seems.”

“What? That can’t be right,” the infantryman insisted. “Isn’t that where Verdot lives?”

The strike leader shrugged. “He’s probably had his family evacuated. Still, he’s a Turk. He might sacrifice them for the sake of the mission.”

“Man, that’s downright scary,” the infantryman said with a shudder. “Let’s do this before the Turks decide to erase us too.”

The strike team leader set to work ordering his men to program the coordinates for the rockets and began the launch countdown.

 

“That's the day Kalm was bombed. And the day I received this arm,” Verdot explained.

“Kalm was bombed!?” Cissnei gasped. “When was that? I never heard anything about it!”

“You wouldn’t have,” said Verdot sternly. “Because of me, Kalm was bombed. As a Turk, I erased any trace of the incident.”

“And you were the only survivor?” Cissnei asked meekly.

“Not initially,” he explained painfully. “I ordered the survivors… my wife… and my daughter… brought here to the manor in Nibelheim, where they died… everyone was killed… in order to cover up for my mistake.”

“But it wasn't your fault,” Cissnei told him. “You didn't order–”

“Whether I gave the order or not doesn’t matter,” Verdot growled. “Kalm was still bombed that day. I destroyed Kalm. I killed my wife and daughter.”

The Chief turned silent, and Cissnei could find no other words to say. Verdot paced a slow lap around the room.

“This place…” he said. “A lot of experiments have been carried out here.”

Cissnei remained quiet.

“This is what it means to be a Turk,” he warned, looking Cissnei in the eye. “Even if you end up killing your own daughter, you still do your job.”

She stared back at him, doing her best to get her thoughts in order. “…I understand,” she finally said, thankful that she was able to keep her voice strong and steady.

Verdot nodded approvingly. “Then that’s settled,” he said, turning towards the door. “We should head back.”

The Nibelheim incident will be covered up as well, he thought grimly. Just like before…

* * *

Reno and Rude reported back to Tseng at the edge of the village. Reno tried to wipe the soot from his face with a handkerchief, but only succeeded in smearing it even more. Rude patted a cloud of grey ash from his suit and choked on the dust. Both men looked like they had been buried in a grave of ash and resurrected.

“Tseng,” Reno said, his voice hoarse from breathing soot. “All the injured have been gathered in the tents.”

“They’re ready to be treated inside the manor,” Rude added.

Tseng looked towards the mansion. “That’s… right…” he said without emotion. From where they stood, he could see Cissnei and Chief Verdot returning from the mansion.

Behind him, Hojo laughed at his apparent uneasiness. “Is the manor ready?” he asked impatiently.

Tseng nodded.

“They’re back,” announced Reno.

Every eye turned to the road where Veld and Cissnei approached from the direction of the mansion.

“Sir,” Tseng welcomed him.

Verdot ignored him. Looking past his men, he spoke directly to Hojo. “Professor Hojo, the manor is ready to be used.”

Hojo’s eyes narrowed in scrutiny as his thin lips suppressed a sneer. “You suretook your time,” he complained. When Verdot failed to indulge him further, he merely shrugged and turned his gaze towards the manor. “Have all the survivors brought to the laboratory immediately,” he ordered flippantly.

Verdot nodded once – short and emotionless – and, without looking at his men, ordered, “…Everyone, get started.”

Beside him, Hojo nodded in satisfaction while casting a cautionary glance towards the lead Turk. An ill-natured spark glimmered in his eye. “I’m counting on you to keep it quick,” he reminded him in semi-hushed tones. “Just like in Kalm.”

Cissnei’s eyes snapped over to the professor to see the sadistic smirk on his face. The way he so viciously reminded Verdot of their secret caused a heavy knot to form in the pit of her stomach. The man was nothing more than a monster.

“Sir,” she asked quietly, turning to Verdot, “if the villagers are brought inside the manor, will they…?” She left the question unfinished.

Verdot remained silent, unwilling, it seemed, to give validation to her fears in front of the scientist.

Reno watched the two of them with a discerning tilt of his chin. The insinuation in Cissnei’s line of questioning was obvious. He forced disgusted snort from his nose as he slid narrowed eyes towards the professor. “Sealing their lips, is it?” he sneered.

“Don’t worry,” said Hojo, laughing quietly at the Turks’ apparent – and uncharacteristic – squeamishness. “They won’t be killed. They’re going to prove some of my brilliant ideas as research samples. As test subjects, their silence is assured. A splendidly efficient way of putting them to use, don’t you think?”

Tseng grunted his displeasure as he looked away.

“Won’t the villagers vanishing all at once look awfully suspicious?” argued Reno, fixing Hojo with a narrowed eyed look of scrutiny.

“There’s no need for you to concern yourselves,” Verdot reprimanded. The stern tone of his voice warned his subordinates to watch theirs. “Shinra employees will recreate the town in perfect detail.”

“No one asked your opinion anyway,” Hojo told Reno flippantly. “Just hurry up and get them inside the mansion.”

With a parting glower, he shot Verdot one more look of warning then turned towards the mansion. Left alone, the Turks looked uncertainly to Verdot, awaiting orders. The Chief stood stock still, his shoulders square and chin up, though his gaze was settled on the ash covered dirt at his feet. He said nothing, nearly ignoring their questioning stares.

“Sir?” Rude finally ventured.

Verdot remained motionless, failing to acknowledge the request.

At the ensuing silence, Tseng turned back to the group, his eyes focused on Verdot. He looked him directly in the eye, his mouth turned down in a grim scowl. “This is too dirty,” he declared somberly.

“We can’t keep doing stuff like this, you know,” Reno added in protest.

Looking past them all, Verdot stared at the nearby tents housing the survivors of the tragedy. Their white canvas flaps were already stained a pallid grey by the soot and ash still floating on the air, stirred up from the charred remains of the smoldering village by the cool mountain breeze. Through the slightly parted entrance, he could see the slowing moving silhouettes of people writhing in pain on the ground, awaiting medical attention that wasn’t coming. No, what Hojo had planned for them would be undoubtedly worse than what they had already suffered.

“…All right,” he murmured quietly, then, raising his chin, he told the others, “None of you have to take part in this.”

Four sets of eyes turned to him in wide disbelief. “Sir?!”

Verdot ignored them and set his gaze once more on the tent. “I’ll take it from here,” he announced. With long purposeful strides, he set off across what was left of the village. He could feel the eyes of his Turks on his back as he made his way through the rubble. The chaotic destruction. The stench of charred wood and human remains. It reminded him so much of that day in Kalm. That day… From that day on, he had killed what was left of his emotions and focused solely on his work – his work as a Turk. It was the only way he had been able to forget what happened. He had lost his family. The only thing I could lean on after that was the Turks. They had become his family of sorts – one he intended to protect. He didn’t want any of them to become like him. That was why he would take care of this order himself. It was his duty.

--

[Shinra Building, Midgar]

Verdot stepped off the helicopter and ducked under the decelerating blades, ignoring the gusting wind. Striding purposefully across the rooftop helipad, he entered the awaiting elevator and keyed in the number for President Shinra's office. He had an appointment.

The lift rose quickly and silently. At the top of the tower, he departed and made his way up the carpet covered stairs to the glass doors sealing off the President’s office. Pushing them open, he stepped silently inside. President Shinra sat waiting for him behind his imposing, oversized, ebony desk, his hands folded neatly on top of it. A smoldering cigar in a nearby ash tray wafted an exotically scented spire of smoke up into the atmosphere.

Verdot took two more steps inside then paused. “Mr. President, I’ve returned from Nibelheim,” he announced, then proceeded up the long, red carpet runner towards the President’s desk.

“Ah, Verdot,” the President greeted him, pushing back from his desk and reclining in his chair. His icy gaze followed his right-hand man as he approached. Reaching for his cigar, he tapped off a short column of glowing ash and lifted it near his lips. “Good work with the cover-up. However, you should know my real reason for calling you here.”

“Of course,” Verdot answered quickly. “I’m here to give you an update on the special investigation order you requested.”

“Mmhmm.” President Shinra took a long pull from his cigar and slowly let out a stream of smoke as he tented his fingers over his desk and leaned forward eagerly. “Have you found out where AVALANCHE has its headquarters?”

Verdot nodded affirmatively. “Wutai.”

A displeased scowl pulled down the President’s face as he growled and pounded a heavy fist on his desk. “There are many there who hold a grudge against us,” he seethed and picked up his cigar again.

“We are moving as fast as we can to set its destruction into motion,” Veld assured him.

Smiling at the thought, President Shinra relaxed back in his chair once more. “Good,” he smiled while waving his cigar. “The time to wipe those vermin out for good has finally come.”

Verdot nodded in agreement before adding, “And as for the traitor among our ranks…”

The President stilled his hand as he rose urgently from his chair. Leaning over the desk, he gazed intently at Verdot.“Have you finally found out?” he asked warily, his ire rising. “Who is it!?”

Verdot nodded.“Yes, sir,” he confirmed, his face trained in an unreadable blank state. “The leak is…”

Notes:

Some changes to note here: In the game, the Kalm flashback is a repetitive hallucination of Veld and the Turk caused by the monsters inhabiting the mansion.

Chapter 37: 14: All of Our Resolve and Longing, part 1

[3 January 0003] [6:30am]

[Wutai]

Fuhito sat quietly at the end of the rough wooden table. The air was cool, yet stuffy in their underground meeting room, made even more so by the presence of their benefactor. The young man across from him fixed him with an icy, blue eyed stare. Not that Fuhito felt intimidated. The young man might be channeling them funds and information, but the real power in AVALANCHE was far from his grasp. No, that belonged to the other three people in the room. The scientist glanced casually over at Elfe and Shears to his right. Elfe sat with her back rigid, eyes fixed on their visitor, showing him ever-respectful gratitude. Shears was harder to read, though Fuhito had always detected a slight air of distrust from him. He couldn’t blame him for that, really, considering just who their benefactor was.

“The Turks have located your headquarters,” their visitor announced broodingly. “Their plan for destroying it has already been set into action. They are converging on you as we speak.”

“Damn,” Shears cursed, pounding his fist once on the table. “So the day has finally come.”

“Don’t let it bother you,” Elfe commanded, keeping her focus on the larger mission. “We knew that this would happen sooner or later.”

“No worries. I know exactly what the Turks are up to,” their benefactor said haughtily, reclining back in his chair. He had the confidence of a man that was used to getting his way.

“And our countermeasures are flawless,” added Fuhito, offering his own source of reassurance. Their benefactor shot him a warning glance.

“However, if you are destroyed here, all my plans will have been for nothing,” the man warned them gravely. “So please get this right.”

Fuhito met his gaze with a confident one of his own. “Just leave everything to us,” he assured him.

The man rested an elbow on the armrest of his chair and propped his cheek against it as he kept his arrogant stare fixed on the scientist. “With Sephiroth dead…” he revealed, a muted smirk dimpling his left cheek. “The only ones standing in my way are the Turks. You think I’m going to let them get in my way?”

Elfe rose from her seat, chin held high. “Destroy Shinra, save the Planet. We’ll do both of those things. You’ll see.”

* * *

The pagoda’s front doors burst open and ricocheted off the building façade on either side with a loud crash. A young girl spilled over the threshold and stumbled down the stairs. Panting, her head whipped back and forth. Trees hemmed the small clearing in on all sides. Footsteps pounded hollowly from the building behind her. Without a backward glance, the girl sprinted into the trees ahead of her at full speed. Twigs snapped under her sneakered feet and low, sapling branches slapped against her face. Behind her, a man in khaki fatigues emerged from the dark doorway of the pagoda.

“Come back here!” he yelled after her as she disappeared into the woods. “Damn brat!”

The trooper plunged into the trees behind her.

--

“Out of my way! Out of my waaay!”

Cissnei whirled around. The scream had come from the trees behind her at the edge of the village. By the time she turned, something had collided with her. Staggering back from the impact, she instinctively wrapped her arms around the young girl now entangled around her legs. The child struggled violently against her until Cissnei finally let her go. Shoving the Turk off, she twisted out of her grasp and, without a word, continued her mad dash across the village square before disappearing from sight.

Cissnei watched the reckless child go, hands on hips and head tipped in curiosity. She hadn’t gotten a good look at her face, but she almost seemed frightened. As she looked after the girl, the sound of more rustling erupted from the trees behind her. Turning back to the woods, she came face to face with an AVALANCHE trooper. The man emerged angrily from the vegetation, swatting away troublesome branches and vines as he stumbled out of the forest. When he saw Cissnei, he came to an abrupt halt.

“A Turk!?” he shouted incredulously as the look of shock worked its way around his face. “That brat was spying on us for you!?”

Spying? Cissnei stole a glance back over her shoulder in the direction the girl had gone. She was nowhere in sight. “What–?”

“Don’t play dumb with me!” the man warned her. He then pulled a long hooked knife from his utility belt. “I’ll take care of you!”

Then, he lunged at her. Lifting her shuriken, Cissnei swung it in an arc across her body, catching the man's wrist with one of the weapon’s sturdy metal arms. The knife flew from his hands as he let out a painful scream and clutched his broken wrist. As he doubled over, Cissnei rushed in and drove a knee up into his crotch. The man dropped to knees, and she finished putting him out with a left hook to his temple. With a groan, the man collapsed face down at the feet of the Turk as she stood over him, shaking out her hand.

“Hey, you’re pretty strong!”

Cissnei spun around to see the little girl from before watching from a few feet away. Standing only about four feet tall, she looked to be no more than about twelve years old. Her black hair was cut in a short bob that didn't quite reach her shoulders. She wore a green and yellow button-up vest that stopped just short of reaching her bright orange shorts that were tied at the top with a strand of green twine. Her dark brown eyes could've been described as being too big for her face had she been a few years older. They stared up at the Turk now from beneath a gray headband tied around her forehead. She pointed at the unconscious man behind her.

“I was getting tired of playing with him anyway. Those guys are always getting in my way. They make me so mad!” she pouted.

Lifting her shuriken to her shoulder, Cissnei planted her other hand on her hip and looked down at the troublesome girl. “And whose fault is it that he attacked me just now?” she demanded. “You, that’s who.”

“Ooh!” The girl stared up at her, eyes suddenly growing wide. Ignoring Cissnei’s question, she took a step closer, eyes intently focused not on the Turk, but on her weapon. “What’s that?” the girl asked, pointing. “A jewel?”

Cissnei lowered the weapon and looked down at the glowing sphere embedded in its hilt. “This?” she asked, rubbing her thumb over the gemstone-like marble. “Kind of… It’s materia.”

“Materia?” the girl repeated, her eyes glimmering with fascination. “What’s that?”

Cissnei pulled in her lower lip. No one had ever asked her that before. “Some call it the wisdom of the Planet,” she explained as she squatted down to talk with the girl on her level. “You could say it’s a kind of power up.”

The little girl’s face twisted in a sort of pout, and Cissnei could see the gears turning behind her narrowed eyes as she processed the information. Suddenly, her eyelids shot wide open, and she grinned excitedly. “I get it!” she exclaimed. “So that’s why you were able to kick that guy’s ass, right?”

Cissnei resisted the urge to chuckle at her innocent oversimplification of the matter. “Wrong,” she told her. “I won with my own strength. Using materia would have been overkill. But it doesn’t hurt to have some around.”

The little girl giggled as she eyed the shimmering orb once more. “Materia, huh,” she repeated. “Sounds pretty interesting! Well… See ya!”

Then the girl twirled around and skipped off towards the nearest building. Cissnei watched her until she was once again gone from sight. What an odd girl, she thought. She shook her head at the girl’s antics and rose to her feet. She cast one more glance after the child then turned back towards the woods. The girl and the trooper had both come from there. According to her instructions, AVALANCHE's headquarters was that way. Tightening the straps on her backpack, she checked her surroundings for any prying eyes and entered the woods.

--

[Shinra Building]

“Mr. President, the operation to destroy AVALANCHE’s headquarters has been set into action,” Verdot informed him from the doorway of the President's office.

“If I recall correctly, said their headquarters was located in Wutai.” The President looked to Verdot for confirmation.

The Chief met his eyes. “Yes,” he affirmed, coming closer. “After all, Wutai and Shinra were once at war. There are many there who hold a grudge against the company. It’s a very practical location for AVALANCHE to use as their base.”

“Those impudent fools,” the President seethed. With a growl, he hammered a heavy fist down on the desk before him. “Send the army in and crush them swiftly!” he ordered.

“The conditions are unfavorable for the army,” Verdot assuaged him carefully. “Wutai is where their defenses are the strongest. There’s a chance they’ve prepared for just such an attack. Our men would be at a disadvantage in case there was a counterattack.”

President Shinra glared back at his head Turk with narrowed eyes.“Then how do you plan to destroy them?” he demanded to know.

“By means of a surprise assault,” Verdot explained. “One of our operatives will infiltrate their headquarters and plant explosives. I have no doubt that she will be successful.”

“If you say so, then I have nothing to worry about,” President Shinra said with a smile, his demeanor rapidly changing. He leaned back in his chair assuredly, like a man used to getting his way. “I’m counting on her.”

--

[Wutai]

Cissnei made her way gingerly around the cliff face on the narrow ledge. So far she had been undetected. The roof of the pagoda housing AVALANCHE's headquarters loomed below her, just feet from the cliff. A large ornate statue of some Wutai god had been carved into the face of the mountain. One of its long graceful arms stretched out towards the building. Cissnei ventured out onto the structure, pausing momentarily in the palm of its stone hand before dropping silently onto the roof below. An open window on the fifth floor allowed for easy entry.

--

“Elfe, please entrust the rest to us and evacuate,” Fuhito insisted as he gathered up the last of his research and closed the briefcase with a firm click. The cool air in Fuhito’s lab was empty and quiet.

“No,” she replied stubbornly. “I cannot leave my comrades to face such danger by themselves. I will fight alongside them.”

“Nevertheless… What would become of AVALANCHE if something were to happen to you?” he proposed, trying to convince her to listen to reason.

“There are many who can take my place,” she said confidently, lifting her face to look him in the eye. “You were the ones who took me in, lost and bereft of memories. I was raised by AVALANCHE. You are like a family to me. That is why it is my duty to protect you in return.”

“But what of everyone’s wishes?” Fuhito countered, growing impatient. “To ensure AVALANCHE’s future is also a fine way of returning the favor.”

“I’ll be with Elfe,” Shears assured him. He took a step closer to her, hovering protectively at her shoulder. “I’ll look after her. There’s no need to worry.”

Elfe cast an appreciative glance over her shoulder to her self-appointed bodyguard. He met her gaze and gave her a reassuring nod. She returned the gesture. “Thank you, Shears,” she told him.

Fuhito stared at the two of them without comment or a smile

“That’s the way it is, Fuhito,” Shears told him with an air of finality that left no room for questions.

“Fuhito,” Elfe added, “you should take refuge.”

“Alas, I cannot,” Fuhito said with a heavy sigh, refusing to be ordered about. “I, too, must see to it that your safety is ensured.”

--

Five floors above them, Cissnei swung her legs over the open windowsill and dropped silently the floor below. She lifted a hand to her earpiece. “Tseng, I have successfully infiltrated their headquarters,” she reported.

“Good. Proceed to set the explosives from the fifth floor down to the second,” he instructed.

“Understood.”

“When you’re done, make your escape through the first floor entrance,” he concluded.

“Then set off the explosives after we rendezvous,” Cissnei finished reciting the plan.

“Don’t let your guard down,” Tseng cautioned her. “I’m already on my way to the rendezvous point.”

“I'll see you there, sir,” she assured him.

Stripping off the backpack, she yanked open the zipper and removed the first bundle of prepared explosives. The interior of the room was ornate, keeping in custom of the culture of Wutai. Rich mahogany beams framed the walls and ceiling. Paintings and lush tapestries ordained the walls. A few empty vases cluttered the corners, and light wooden shutters sat open aside each window. Cissnei cast a second glance around the room. Locating what looked to be one of the central support beams of the structure, she headed towards it and began to set the first bomb.

--

Underground, a large assembly of AVALANCHE fighters gathered silently, facing their leaders. Elfe stood before them, with Shears on her right, and Fuhito on her left.

“Thank you all for gathering here,” Elfe addressed her followers. “I have something important to tell you. Shinra has begun their plan to destroy our base. We must face the enemy with all our strength! The coming battle will be a dangerous one. Those of you who hold fear in their hearts – those of you who are afraid you will not live to see another day – you should all leave now while you still can.”

A loud roar erupted from the troops, voicing their desire to stand and fight.

“No regrets?” she asked them.

“No regrets!”

“Are you ready, men!?” Shears shouted, thrusting a fist towards the ceiling. “Put your guns on!”

“Yeah!” Some mimicked his upraised fist.

“You have my gratitude,” Elfe told the assembly as they quieted back down, sounding a little more subdued. “For today and for all the days you looked after me when I was lost, I’ll repay you all by protecting you in this battle. I will protect you to the last.”

Noting the weariness in her voice, Fuhito stepped up beside her and took charge over the assembly. “Death is but a fleeting thing,” he reminded them. “All souls return to the lifestream. Therefore, fear not death and face Shinra with all your strength!”

A ripple of motion passed over the crowd as every man saluted them. “Judgement upon Shinra!” they cried.

Chanting their mantra, the troops turned mechanically and marched from the room. Elfe stood motionless and silent until the last man made his exit. As soon as they were out, she gave in to the pain and weakness washing over her yet again. With a groan, she slumped forward and would have hit her knees had Shears not been there to catch her.

“Elfe!” His arm shot out, catching her around the waist mid-fall and hoisting her back up. “Another attack?”

“Damn it…” she cursed without answering him. “Of all the times… Still… I’m fine… I… have to fight… with everybody else…”

She straightened up and pushed him off angrily. But the effort was weak and hardly budged him. She made it two steps before the pain crashed upon her again. A painful gasp escaped her lips.

“You can’t!” Shears insisted, putting his arms around her once more.

“There is no helping it,” Fuhito agreed grimly, coming around on her other side. “We will have to fall back on our original plan.”

--

Tseng could see the entrance to AVALANCHE's headquarters from the rendezvous point. He was well concealed back in the trees as he watched the entrance. The place was unexpectedly quiet. Not a single man had come or gone by the front door. A short time ago he had spotted Cissnei in a fourth floor window. Although she could not have seen him, she had appeared momentarily at the window and waved, signaling that she had cleared the floor and set the bomb. That meant she was halfway done. Two bombs set, two more to go. It was time to report in.

“Chief, Cissnei has successfully infiltrated the base.”

“Good,” Verdot acknowledged. “Continue to keep in contact with her and provide support.”

“Yes, sir.”

Verdot disconnected the call and returned the phone to breast pocket as he turned back to the President. “Mr. President, our operative has successfully infiltrated their headquarters,” he informed him. “The planting of the explosives is going well.”

“So it’s finally time.” The President smiled in eager anticipation.

Verdot nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Everything is going according to plan.”

“At last, this long battle will finally come to an end,” President Shinra said, rising from his chair. He stepped over to his large floor-to-ceiling window and looked outside. “Are you keeping track of the leak?”

“I’ve left that to my subordinates,” the Turk reported. “That should prevent any careless moves.”

--

Cissnei hurried quietly down the steps to the third floor. So far she had yet to encounter any AVALANCHE troops, but she did not let her guard down. The quiet emptiness of the building was unnerving. Something felt off. The third floor was as abandoned as the last two. She crossed the room and pulled another explosive from her bag. Kneeling down, she quickly set the detonator signal. As she stepped back from her work, she heard quiet footsteps land muffled on the ornate rug behind her. Withdrawing her weapon, she whirled around to face her assailant. Weapon raised, she caught herself mid-swing as she saw the young girl standing in the middle of the room. The girl looked as surprised as she was.

“You’re that girl from before,” Cissnei said in startled recognition. “You’re with AVALANCHE!?”

“N-No way!” the girl said shaking her head and waving her hands about frantically in front of her. “Don’t lump me in with those guys!”

“What are you doing here then?” the Turk asked her suspiciously as she lowered her weapon.

The girl put her fists on her hips defiantly and said, “To get revenge for intruding on Wutai land.”

Cissnei listened with a raised eyebrow. “Revenge?”

“Yes. I’ve been told about it ever since I was a kid. How Wutai was a lot more bustling and important before I was born. Now all that’s left are weirdos like these who are ruining everything. And it’s aaall Shinra’s fault!”

Now Cissnei was intrigued. “Why’s that?” she asked.

“Because of the war,” the girl spat out angrily. “Shinra went to war against Wutai and we ended up losing. Now everyone’s cowering in fear of them. That’s why I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to restore Wutai to its former glory. And beat up both Shinra and those other jerks!”

“Is that so…” Cissnei wondered aloud, trying to come up with a way to get rid of her safely. “At least I can grant you half your wish. So leave the rest to me and get out of here already.”

“…What do you mean?” the girl asked suspiciously, crossing her arms in defiance.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” the Turk told her, hoping she wouldn't ask any more questions. “Just hurry on home. It’s dangerous here.”

“Hmph, fine,” she conceded. “I was going to leave anyway!”

The girl darted towards the stairs and was gone. Cissnei hoped she would be far away when the explosives detonated. She checked the bomb one more time, then went to the nearest window and gave her customary signal, trusting that Tseng was watching from somewhere in the forest below.

Just one more to go, she told herself as she headed for the stairs.

On the second floor, there was still no sign of AVALANCHE, nor the young girl. Breathing a sigh of relief on both accounts, she set the final explosive device, signaled out the window, and ran down the steps to the first floor.

I just have to get out of here, meet up with Tseng, and set off the explosives, she rehearsed.

The path to the front door was clear, still, she crossed the center of the room with caution.

“Look out!”

She turned just in time to see the little girl for a split second before she collided with her again. This time Cissnei was knocked off her feet and hit the floor with the girl landing on top of her in a tangle of arms and legs. Growling, she pushed the child off and sat up angrily.

“You again?” the young girl squawked before Cissnei could get a word out.

“You’re still here?!” Cissnei exclaimed, getting herself up and jerking the girl to her feet as well. She kept a vice-like grip on her arm. “I guess I have no choice. Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

“Huh?” the girl said looking up at her. “We’re leaving?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Cissnei said mechanically, turning to pull her along towards the front door.

“We can’t!” the girl cried, struggling to free her arm from Cissnei's grasp. “The door is locked.”

“What?” the Turk asked, releasing her arm and turning to face her.

“It means that we’re stuck in here,” the girl explained.

“No way,” Cissnei said. “There has to be another exit.” She would break the door down if need be.

“Don’t let something like that worry you!” the girl said suddenly. “Just leave everything to me!” She started skipping a lap around the room, touching various objects as she went. “Let’s see,” she hummed. “I’m sure that… around here…”

She tipped over a large vase and a section of the wall slid open silently. Behind it, a flight of steps descended out of sight.

“Ta da!” the girl said excitedly. “We can get out through here. I’ll be taking this as my reward.”

She held up a small shiny object for Cissnei to see. Then, with a wink and a giggle, she darted into the secret passage and was gone. Cissnei's breath caught in her throat as she checked her belt. No! It wasn't there. The girl had stolen the detonator right off her hip. Cissnei raced towards the passage and bounded down after her, praying that she wouldn't press that switch.

--

Tseng kept his eyes glued to the headquarter's main entrance. Ten minutes had passed since Cissnei had signaled that the last bomb was set on the second floor. She should have exited the building by now. What was keeping her? Her absence was concerning. He called the Chief.

“Tseng, what’s your status?” Verdot questioned him.

“Sir, Cissnei still hasn’t returned,” he reported cautiously.

Verdot was slow to respond. “…It’s already past the designated rendezvous time, isn’t it?” he finally asked.

“I'm afraid so,” Tseng confessed, looking again toward the main entrance. “I haven’t heard anything from her either. I hope that nothing has gone wrong…”

Verdot ended the call and masked his concern as he turned back to the President.

“Has their headquarters been destroyed yet?” President Shinra asked eagerly.

“No, not yet,” Verdot regretted to inform him. “The operative hasn’t returned as scheduled.”

“Verdot, that’s not what I want to hear,” the President chided the head Turk, the tone of his voice dropping an octave. “I want results and I want them now.”

Chapter 38: 14: All of Our Resolve and Longing, part 2

Cissnei hit the bottom of the stairs and sprinted down the narrow passageway in front of her. Evenly spaced torch sconces lit the way. To her chagrin, she came upon an intersecting hallway. She paused to look down each corridor. How would she ever know which way the girl had gone? A high pitched giggle erupted behind her. Spinning around, she saw the girl stood a scant few feet behind her, smiling with her arms crossed.

“You can’t catch me!” she taunted her.

“When did you get behind me!?” Cissnei asked her, sounding flustered.

The girl only giggled more and darted past her, narrowly avoiding the Turk's outstretch arms.

“Catch me if you can!” she called back to her.

“This isn't a game!” Cissnei yelled after her. “We really need to get out of here!”

The girl ignored her pleas and ran on. Cissnei, having no choice, followed her deeper into AVALANCHE's headquarters. At the end of the corridor, she entered a large, ornately decorated room. Extravagant tapestries draped the walls. Two large golden statues flanked a painted mural at the front of the room. One of the statues sat askew and a small doorway stood open below the mural. Cissnei hurried across the room and ducked into the opening. Inside, she found the girl bent over a large wooden chest. It appeared to be locked. Cissnei watched as the girl struggled to lift the lid. In her preoccupation, she had failed to notice the Turk's entrance. Creeping up behind her, Cissnei grabbed the girl by the shoulders and spun her around.

“Ah!” the girl gasped.

“You,” the Turk said accusingly.

“Ohhhh,” she moaned innocently. “You caught me.”

“Now then,” said Cissnei, releasing the girl and holding out her hand. “Give me back what you stole.”

“You mean this?” the girl said, producing the detonator and juggling it in front of her.

“No! It’s dangerous! Be careful with it!” Cissnei warned, attempting to snatch it from the air.

“Why are you getting so riled up?” the girl asked between giggles.

Click. Cissnei's heart nearly stopped at the subtle sound.

“No! You just pressed it, didn’t you?” she cried. “That thing’s a detonator! This place is going to blow any minute now!”

“Whaaat!” the girl screamed and dropped the device.

“Come on!” Cissnei ordered, taking her by the hand and leaving the detonator on the floor. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

With a stern yank, the girl pulled free of her grasp. “Hold on a minute! Leave everything to me, the Great Yuffie of Wutai!” she announced with great bravado. “There’s a secret passage over here. Follow me!”

The girl jumped away from the Turk and took off in the opposite direction.

“Wait!” Cissnei demanded. “Yuffie, wait!”

“Come on! Hurry up!” the girl urged her. “Let’s go! This way!”

Cissnei heard a series of footsteps in the ornate room just outside.

“They’re over here!” she heard a man shout. “Come quick!”

She had no choice but to follow the girl. Sprinting after her, she rounded a corner and nearly ran her over. Yuffie had stopped in a hallway lined with large carved wooden statues. She could hear the AVALANCHE fighters behind them. They had to move or risk having to fight their way out.

“Let’s use this statue,” Yuffie shouted, running over to the first one and leaning all her weight into it.

Joining her, Cissnei leaned her shoulder into it and pushed. Slowly, the large totem began to tip, and then it fell. The whole hallway seemed to shake as it hit the floor with a thunderous crash. Once down, the large floor-to-ceiling statue made a commendable barrier across the passageway, but she could hear their pursuers just around the corner. Grabbing Yuffie by the arm, she pulled her down the hall.

“Damn it!”

She looked back over her shoulder at the sound. Three AVALANCHE troopers were gathered on the other side of the barricade. “That impudent brat! Climb over it!” one of them ordered his comrades. “Go! Go!”

Darting ahead, Yuffie ran up to another statue.

“It's not worth the time!” Cissnei told her, urging her on.

“Okay,” the girl conceded. “Let’s make a run for it!”

“Yuffie, you run!” Cissnei ordered as she turned back to watch the approaching troops. “I’ll hold them off.”

The girl froze, staring up at her with a look of indecision on her face. “All right,” she finally conceded. “I’ll go ahead and wait for you to catch up.”

“No, just keep going,” Cissnei told her. “This place could blow any minute!”

Yuffie nodded and took off. With her safely away, Cissnei turned her attention back to the men behind them. They had all traversed the toppled statue and were sprinting towards her.

“You guys take care of this one!” one man ordered the others. “I’m going after the brat!”

“No!” the Turk lunged for the man, but was cut off by the other two.

“You’re not going anywhere!” one laughed.

Cissnei watched helplessly as the man disappeared around the corner after Yuffie and the men in front of her started their advance, stepping towards her with arms held slightly out from their sides. With a hungry growl, one dove for her, arms aiming at her waist for a tackle. Stepping aside, she drove a knee up into the man's midsection, doubling him over. She dropped an elbow into the base of his neck, knocking him out. As she straightened up, her arms were suddenly snatched up from behind as her second assailant grabbed her forcefully in a nelson. She moved quickly before he could position his hands behind her head. Her heel crashed down on his toes as she threw her head back. The impact of her skull against his face crushed the man's nose. He let go of her with a cry of agony and covered his face as she pulled away from him. Spinning around, she landed a roundhouse kick to the side of his head. The man careened into the wall and slumped against it, holding his head and groaning. Turning away from them, Cissnei darted up the hall after the fleeing girl.

--

Yuffie turned another corner and ducked behind one of the statues. She did her best to still her rapid breathing as she heard the enemy approaching. Pressing as deep into the corner as she could she watched as the man ran past her hiding place.

Keep going. Keep going, she willed him. To her chagrin, he stopped. Breathing heavily, the man turned in place until he came to face Yuffie. Seeing the girl, he scowled angrily and took a step towards her hiding place.

“You sure have given us a hard time!” he snarled.

“Don’t come any closer!” Yuffie cried, jumping from her hiding place and backing down the hall.

“Ha!” the man laughed. “Don’t think that I’m letting you get away! You’re quick, kid, but you’re not getting away now.”

Stopping her retreat, Yuffie put on a brave face. “Come and take me if you think you can,” she challenged. “I’ll beat you to a pulp!”

“Yuffie!”

The girl dared to look over her shoulder and was relieved to see the Turk coming up behind her.

“Get behind me!” she ordered the girl.

Yuffie did as she was told as Cissnei ran past her to engage the trooper. The man swung a fist as she closed in, hungry to draw first blood. At the last possible second, Cissnei dropped to one knee, extended the other leg out beside her before sweeping it in an arc before her. Both of the man's feet were pulled out from under him, and he crashed to the floor on his back. Cissnei was already back on her feet by the time he landed and stood over him. Lifting the same leg straight up by her head, she dropped it heel first down onto his sternum like an ax. An excruciating wheeze was forced out of the man's lungs. Grabbing at his chest and gasping for air, he rolled over on his face and writhed on the floor. Cissnei quickly turned back to look for the girl.

“You’re late!” Yuffie complained good-naturedly behind her. “I thought I was a goner.”

Cissnei waved the girl forward urgently. “That sounds strange coming from you. But don’t worry. I won’t leave you again. Come on now, let’s hurry.”

“Right!” Yuffie skipped forward and pointed down the passage. “This way! We’ll soon be out of here!”

“Good,” Cissnei said worriedly as she checked her watch. “We’re cutting it close!”

As she said it, a rumble like thunder reverberated through the building above them, followed by a powerful shaking. What started as a shower of dust, quickly turned to a cascade of falling debris.

“The explosives are going off!” Cissnei warned.

Yuffie froze in her tracks, uncertain of where to go or what to do. “The ceiling’s coming down!” she shrieked.

Darting forward, Cissnei scooped up the stagnant girl and raced down the rapidly collapsing tunnel, dodging falling timbers and other debris along the way. At the end of the hall, they dove through a collapsing doorway and landed sprawled on the floor of a large, unfinished chamber.

“Are you all right?” Cissnei called out, reaching out to search for Yuffie in the cloud of dust enveloping them.

She heard the young girl cough. “Yeah, somehow… It’s just one crisis after another.”

The rumbling continued as more of the compound continued to collapse above them. They had to keep moving. An open corridor on the other side of the chamber appeared to lead up. It had to be the exit. Yuffie scrambled to her feet and rushed over to offer Cissnei a hand up.

“Come on! We have to go!” Yuffie urged the Turk, sounding panicky.

Cissnei pushed herself up off the floor and raced after Yuffie towards the exit. The shaking kept intensifying, making it harder to run quickly and not lose their balance.

“Nooo! Elfe!”

Cissnei froze at the shouts erupting from the tunnel behind them. Stopping halfway across the room, she turned back to find the source of the cries. She recognized that voice. Squinting through the dust back into the darkened tunnel she saw Shears clawing desperately at the rubble and debris blocking the tunnel.

“Elfe!” he screamed again.

Dropping to his knees, he appeared to be giving up. Slowly he turned his head to face Cissnei and Yuffie. A flash of red creeped up his neck and into his face as his eyes settled on the Turk.

“You!” he screamed at them accusingly. He jumped to his feet and started towards them.

“Run, Yuffie!” Cissnei ordered as she turned and headed back towards the corridor.

“Wait! What about you?” Yuffie screamed behind her. “What are you doing?”

Cissnei ignored her, focusing solely on reaching the door before Shears did. Grabbing the edge of the door, she slammed it shut and threw the deadbolt. Leaning all her weight against the door, she felt when Shears pounded into it. The door rattled and shook, whether from Shears’ fists or the explosives above, she couldn't tell. Behind her, she heard Yuffie yelp.

“We have found you at last,” a haughty voice sneered. “It will be a pleasure wringing the life out of you.”

“Cissnei!” Yuffie screamed.

The Turk looked over her shoulder to see Fuhito standing between the young girl and the exit. He stared down at her, appearing too calm amid the chaos. An unnerving smile twisted his face.

“I’m afraid that I cannot let you leave alive,” he told the two of them matter-of-factly.

Another pound jolted the door at Cissnei's back, accompanied by a chorus of curses and threats. More pieces of the ceiling crumbled away and rained down on all three of them. Fuhito would hold them all prisoner until the entire building fell in on them. If nothing else, Cissnei had to get the innocent girl out. Keeping her weight against the door and one hand on the handle, she drew her pistol and aimed it at Fuhito.

“Stop!” she screamed at him. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with me.”

Fuhito drilled her with cold eyes before stepping slightly aside to let the little girl pass. Yuffie looked back at the Turk.

“Yuffie, run!” she ordered her. “This place is going to collapse any minute now.”

“But–”

“Now!” Cissnei screamed. “Go! I'll catch up!”

“Oooh… I’m sorry,” Yuffie cried. Turning away, she hurried by Fuhito, flinching away from his glare as she passed.

As she reached the exit, she heard a yell and a series of gunshots echo from the chamber behind her. Before she could decide what to do, one more tremendous shock wave rocked the structure above. A horrendous crash filled her ears, and Yuffie ran.

--

Tseng watched in dismay as AVALANCHE's headquarters imploded from the top floor down. As each floor collapsed onto the next, an eruption of dust, smoke, and splintered debris rushed out of the evacuated space. Four explosions later, the whole building was caved in on itself. Tseng strained his eyes as he searched the dust clouds for any sign of Cissnei.

Cissnei… Why did you set off the explosives before rendezvousing? What happened in there?

A rustle and snapping of branches rushed towards him from among the trees to his right. He turned towards it warily, daring to hope that Cissnei might be the source. As he watched, a young Wutaian girl stumbled out of the woods. Dirty and exhausted, she nearly tripped over the uneven ground. Tseng stooped to catch her.

“Whoa, there,” he said, catching her roughly by the shoulders and pulling her back upright.

She didn't appear to be seriously hurt, although she acted a bit dazed. Perhaps in shock. She stood swaying on her feet and looked across the clearing to the smoldering remains of the pagoda. Tseng knelt in front of her and followed her gaze, thinking, Surely she wasn't inside when…

“It’s completely destroyed…” he heard her mutter under her breath. “Cissnei….”

Tseng jerked his attention back to the little girl as his hands inadvertently tightened around her arms. “You know Cissnei?” he asked her anxiously.

“Sorta,” she mumbled, still staring at the destruction. “…She was nice. She got caught up in the explosion, though…”

Tseng took the news like a punch to the gut. He relinquished his grip on the girl and rose to his feet, cursing under his breath. “Damn… So she didn't make it?”

“You know her, too?” the girl asked, looking up at him.

“We’re colleagues,” Tseng explained shortly.

The girl pushed away from him and looked him up and down. Her melancholy seemed to be slowly evaporating, being replaced by bitterness.

“Why are you doing stuff like this in Wutai!?” she suddenly screamed at him.

“It’s because of this…” Tseng pointed to the what was left of the AVALANCHE base.

“I know about them,” Yuffie said defiantly. “They’re an anti-Shinra group, right? …And you destroyed their building… Which means you guys are–?”

“Tseng!”

Tseng and Yuffie turned in unison to see Cissnei emerge slowly from the woods. She was covered in a thick layer of dust from head to toe and had a long gash on her right cheek. While she walked a little stiffly, she seemed to be okay.

“And Yuffie!? Thank goodness you made it,” she said between heavy breaths.

“You’re safe after all,” Tseng said, trying to hide a smile. “Yuffie here had me convinced otherwise.”

“Cissnei…”

She looked at Yuffie. The girl was glaring up at her with tears in her eyes.

“Yuffie? What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You… Get out of Wutai!” she screamed at the Turk.

Yuffie ran up to her then, and pounded on her stomach and thighs with angry fists. Cissnei reached down to hold her, but she yanked away from the Turk and ran blindly in the opposite direction. Tseng stepped aside to avoid colliding with her.

“Yuffie!?” Cissnei called after her

The girl stopped to glare back at her. “You guys are from Shinra, aren’t you!?” she cried, sounding disappointed and hurt. “You were trying to trick me, weren’t you!? You’re here to mess up Wutai again, aren’t you!?”

“You’ve got it all wrong!” Cissnei implored her. “I wasn’t trying to trick you!”

“I hated those other guys. But… I hate Shinra even more!” she screamed. Spinning away from her, she dashed into the woods.

“Yuffie!” Cissnei started after her.

Tseng stepped into her path, stopping her pursuit. His dark eyes met hers as he studied her weary face. Cissnei didn't hold his gaze for long, instead looking past him after the little girl. “Hey,” he demanded her attention back. “What was that about?”

“…It's nothing,” Cissnei said quietly, stealing her gaze away. “Mission's complete. Let's get out of here.”

* * *

[Shinra Building]

Verdot ended the call and turned a smiling face towards President Shinra.

“Mr. President, I’ve just received word that AVALANCHE’s headquarters has been destroyed,” he announced.

“Have their leaders been disposed of?” he asked anxiously. “Unless they’re dead, the group will continue to live on.”

Verdot nodded. “They have all been successfully eliminated.”

A large smile split the President's face. “Then those AVALANCHE vermin have finally been exterminated.”

“Be that as it may, the impact of their actions has been widespread,” Verdot warned him. “The people’s faith in Shinra has been shaken.”

“That’s because their violent actions were left unchecked,” the President said, casting him a sideways glance.

“Public opinion will need to be stabilized,” the Turk reminded him.

“We have the perfect event for that ready, don’t we?” said the President with an eager chuckle. Turning to the floor-to-ceiling window of his office he looked out at the sprawling sky above Midgar. He took in a deep, satisfied breath. “The world’s first rocket launch! The launch ceremony will be broadcast all over the world. Begin making preparations immediately.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

[Wutai]

Elfe stood on the cliff overlooking what was left of their headquarters, now nothing more than a disastrous pile of burning wood and brazen bricks. A twisting column of thick black smoke dotted with floating particles of ash rose past her. The acrid stench of it stung her nostrils and burned her eyes. But there was nothing to be done about it. She could feel Shears presence close behind her, her only source of comfort at the moment. Fuhito was with them, too, as well as their benefactor, who was appearing quite pleased by the scenario. He stepped up to the cliff beside her and cast the quickest of careless glances at the destroyed pagoda. A speck of ash landed on the lapel of his white suit and he brushed it off with an agitated flick of his wrist.

“Our plan was a complete success,” Rufus Shinra gloated as he turned away from the sight.

“Indeed,” agreed Fuhito, peering down at what was left of their smoldering base. “Our headquarters razed and our apparently with it… Shinra is sure to believe that they have destroyed AVALANCHE entirely.”

“Verdot was starting to catch on to us. The increased surveillance around me was making it difficult to move,” Rufus bemoaned before a devilish smirk lit a spark in his eye. “But with this, I shouldn’t have that problem anymore.”

Fuhito allowed a rare laugh to escape him, joining in the Vice President’s gloating. “They were utterly duped by the false leaders disguised by materia.”

“Still… There have been… great sacrifices…” Elfe reminded them all somberly, refusing to take part in their celebration. “If it hadn’t been for my condition, I could surely have prevented them…”

“Elfe, don’t push yourself,” Shears warned. His hand hovered near her waist, ready to catch her at a moment's notice as she still swayed ever so slightly. “Your last attack hasn’t subsided yet.”

“A few sacrifices are unavoidable,” Rufus said, brushing the matter aside with hardly a second thought.

Fuhito seconded the motion. “True. We knew that from the start.”

“Next time,” Rufus said expectantly. “Next time will decide everything. They will have their guard down at the rocket launch ceremony.” He paused to look Fuhito in the eye. “Use this opportunity to kill the old man.”

Fuhito bowed his head reverently and assured him, “Please leave everything to us.”

Chapter 39: 15: Onward to the Distant Heavens, part 1

[11 April 0003]

[Rocket Launch Pad]

A tight formation of jets left a series of contrails across the crystal blue sky. As the formation came back over, the two outer jets broke off from the rest of the group to perform a series of aerial somersaults and barrel rolls. Then the group leader shot forward away from the others and performed a display of impossible acrobatic maneuvers, painting an abstract smattering of contrails above the open field under the sky.

Below the excitement, Vice President Rufus Shinra and his Turk escort stood watching the display. Cissnei shielded her eyes as she stared up to the sky. The five planes performed their last act with perfect precision and banked back towards the airstrip at the other end of the practice field.

“Aren't they amazing, sir?” Cissnei exclaimed in an unusual show of excitement. “I’ve never seen such a dynamic air show before. It’s hard to believe that this is only a rehearsal.”

Behind her, Rufus Shinra snorted in disgust. “Such nonsense.”

“Sir! What are you saying?” Cissnei gasped, looking over at him. The younger Shinra wasn't even looking at the sky. A look of smug arrogance turned his handsome face down in what appeared to be a perpetual frown. His cold blue eyes peered out from behind wisps of stray blond hair. His eyes reminded her so much of his father's. His lack of enthusiasm for the celebration baffled her. “This air show is part of the rocket launch ceremony,” she dared to remind him. “It’s a momentous day for your father's company.”

He needed no reminding. “Momentous day, you say?” he answered skeptically, casting her a sideways glance with those steely eyes. “Where’s the merit in sending some rocket up into space? The ceremony, air show, and broadcast are nothing but a waste of money.”

Cissnei let the subject drop. It was not her place to argue with the Vice President of the Shinra Company. She returned to watching the pilots and planes that had come to a landing on the airstrip. The pilot of the lead plane climbed out of the cockpit and dropped to the ground with the grace of a seasoned flier. Moving with efficiency, he ducked under each wing, checking a few points of interest, before taking a step back. For a moment, he just stood staring at the plane with a look of admiration, then he turned towards Cissnei and Rufus and started across the tarmac towards them.

The man appeared to be in his mid-twenties and had close cropped blond hair. A layer of fine stubble dotted his chin, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He wore a blue leather jacket decorated with numerous patches and pins, and a white scarf hung draped around his neck. He wore a pair of goggles that he lifted from his eyes and raised up to his forehead as he approached. He strode right up to Rufus, pulled off his glove, and boldly stuck out his hand.

“Hello there, Mr. Vice President. Captain Cid Highwind at your service,” he introduced himself.

Rufus kept his hands in his pockets and looked at him in silence for a second before responding. “So you were the one piloting that plane?” he asked skeptically, his voice smooth and condescending.

“It’s not just any plane. That baby’s my partner,” Cid said proudly, dropping his overlooked handshake and looking back at his plane. “That's the Tiny Bronco. Great name, ain’t it?”

“I don’t care about the plane’s name,” Rufus answered brusquely. “Just what are you thinking? This is a rehearsal for the air show. You do know where you’re going to be during the real thing?”

“Of course,” the captain said, barely containing his excitement. “I’ll be inside the Shinra No. 26, ready to launch!”

“Precisely. Which means that taking part in the rehearsal was pointless,” Rufus remonstrated and turned away, signaling that their conversation was over.

“Details, details,” Cid chided. “The sky was calling me. Did I have any choice but to answer it?” Rufus ignored him. “Hey, Mr. VP. Tell this to the brass at the ceremony: I’m gonna plant Shinra’s flag on the Moon. Better look forward to it!”

Rufus failed to acknowledge his request. Turning his back, he strode a few feet away to continue surveying the airfield undisturbed. Cissnei watched him with a disgusted frown before turning back to the rejected pilot.

“I'll tell them, Captain Cid,” she offered with a friendly smile.

“Yeah! That’s the spirit!” Cid responded excitedly, mimicking her warm gesture as he held out a hand. “What’s your name, Missy?”

“Cissnei. I’m from the Turks,” she explained, returning the handshake. “I’m here as the Vice President’s escort today.”

“Pointless,” Rufus ridiculed, effectively breaking up their little chat. “I’m firmly against the Space Program. There are more strategic ways for our company to expand its business.”

“Heh,” the pilot pressed on undaunted. “So young, but so little passion. Nothing like your father. Now, he’s a man with dreams. He built the company from the ground up. Scale! It’s all about scale!”

Rufus’s shoulder tensed as he turned to face the man again. A look of intense displeasure sullied his usually handsome features. “Don’t bring up the President in front of me,” he warned the man harshly, drilling him with a cold, penetrating stare.

Cissnei prepared herself to step between the two men as their glares intensified. Before things escalated further, the sound of a revving plane engine roared from the tarmac behind them. Tearing her attention away from the men, she looked back up the runway.

“Captain, isn't that the Tiny Bronco?” she asked, pointing towards the idling plane. Someone was in the cockpit.

Cid broke off his stare and followed her directing down the runway. His eyes quickly locked onto a plane – his plane – revving its engines and rolling slowly down the tarmac. “Huh? What's that *%$# doing with my baby!?” he raged, his speech loud and colorful. “I’m not gonna let some &$#$^@ lay as much as a finger on her!” Shouting obscenities, he took off across the asphalt.

Rufus watched him go without a trace of concern. Cissnei, however, reacted otherwise.

“Captain Cid! Please, wait!” she called after him. Turning back, she held an apologetic hand out towards Rufus. “Mr. Vice President, I’ll be right back,” she explained and took off after the pilot.

“Do what you want,” Rufus grumbled, not even watching her go.

Cissnei raced after the captain and quickly caught up. With eyes locked on the plane, she sprinted past him towards the tarmac. The plane had already turned and was angling down the runway. Ducking under the tail of the plane, she reached up the other side, barely snagging the edge of the open cockpit. Lifting her knees up to the wing, she climbed on board. Then, with one foot in the cockpit and the other on the wing, she found her balance and drew her pistol.

Tapping it on the hijacker's shoulder, she ordered, “Resistance is futile! Surrender!”

The plane jerked to the side as the man in the pilot seat startled. “Wh-When did you-!?”

“Shut it down and get out of that seat,” Cissnei ordered again.

Instead, the man leaned forward and flipped the switch to lower the wing flaps. Cissnei felt the plane speed up. With no other options, she hauled back and cracked the butt of her gun against the back of the man's head. He immediately slumped forward over the yoke, and the plane lurched, throwing Cissnei forward. Catching herself on the edge of the cockpit, she pushed herself back up. Grabbing the unconscious pilot, she hauled the incoherent man out of the cockpit and dumped him ungracefully to the tarmac.

Dropping down into the vacated seat, Cissnei studied the controls. It wasn't much different than the Shinra helicopter's she flown a dozen times. She immediately began take-off abortion procedures, repositioning the wing flaps and slowing the propeller as she steered the plane back up the runway. At the end of the tarmac, she could see Captain Cid anxiously awaiting the return of this precious plane.

As she drew closer she could hear him shouting, “Steady now! Steady! There better not be a single scratch!”

Smiling to herself, she began slowing the plane. Before she had come to a complete stop, Cid was already circling the Tiny Bronco, checking every inch of it for even the slightest damage. Cissnei killed the engine and got out.

“Good job,” Cid praised her, obviously relieved that no harm had come to the plane. “But, damn. That insolent ^$#^%. Trying to make off with my Tiny Bronco. What the hell was he up to?”

“Where is he anyway?” Cissnei asked, looking around the tarmac. She had been so focused on regaining control of the plane she hadn't seen what happened to him afterward.

“I was so busy watching you, I didn't see him get up,” Cid admitted with a shrug. “Oh, well. It was probably just some &%*$# prankster on a dare. I wouldn't worry too much about it. The important thing is that the Tiny Bronco made it back safe and sound.”

But Cissnei was worried about it. Anything unplanned was cause to concern a Turk. She would have to be extra vigilant during the ceremony.

--

After hitting the tarmac, the hijacker had been jolted back to consciousness and made his way unnoticed towards the trees lining the airstrip. Nursing a growing lump on his head and a bruised shoulder, he picked his way gingerly through the trees. Far enough back to be out of sight, he met up with Shears and two more of his comrades.

“What happened to the Tiny Bronco?” Shears demanded.

“Sorry,” the man apologized, rubbing the back of his head. “The Turk got involved. We couldn’t get it.”

Shears growled with frustration, but let the failure slide. “It can’t be helped then. We’ll have to come up with a way to do without it. Sneak on board the Shinra No. 26. Steal one of the oxygen tanks.”

“Will do,” said the thug as he hurried off to carry out his new orders. He was eager to make up for his last failure.

“That’ll stop the launch, won’t it?” one of the other men asked Shears.

“Yeah. Without the oxygen tanks, the launch will be a failure. And when it’s broadcast across the world, Shinra’s reputation will be ruined.” Shears smiled sinisterly at the thought.

The man laughed. “Shinra still thinks it’s wiped out AVALANCHE. So they’ll probably have their guard down. Our next operation is bound to go smoothly.”

“And we’ll finish it off by killing the President,” said Shears zealously, turning back to look out over the airfield. He could see Rufus in the distance, his blond hair and white coat a stark contrast to the black-suited woman standing next to him. Shears smiled viciously. “We’ll have our chance when he appears at the ceremony tomorrow.”

--

Cid accompanied the Turk back to where Rufus stood waiting. If the Vice President was concerned by the breach in security, he didn't show it.

“There’s gotta be some way I can show my gratitude for rescuing my partner,” Cid was telling the Turk. “How ‘bout a tour of the rocket?”

“I'm sorry, but I’m supposed to be escorting the Vice President,” Cissnei declined graciously as she returned to her place at Rufus's side.

“Then you come along, too,” Cid ordered Rufus with surprising audacity. “It’ll give you a chance to change your mind about the Space Program.”

Rufus was silent as he looked across the airfield to the trees beyond. He could just make out Shears crouched at the edge of the vegetation. The man saluted to him, unseen by anyone else. The next operation should be underway by now, Rufus gathered. Having a Turk on board will assure the workers, so they’ll let their guard down. That should make things easier.

Returning his unfriendly gaze to the captain, he appeared to begrudgingly accept the invitation. “I guess I have no choice,” he lamented, then added impatiently, “Let’s take a look then.”

“That's the spirit!” Cid congratulated him, and stopped just short of thumping him on the back. “You're gonna be impressed, sir. I guarantee it!”

Rufus remained silent and trailed along behind Cissnei and the Captain, casting one more glance in Shears’ direction. He gave him a quick nod, and continued on.

--

The Shinra No. 26 was an engineering marvel. Rising several stories above the launch pad, the highly acclaimed rocket was touted to be one of the finest Shinra had ever produced. Its perfectly polished exterior glinted promisingly in the afternoon sun. A criss-cross array of scaffolding climbed the side of the rocket to the crew members’ entrance halfway up the side. Cissnei followed Captain Cid across the metal catwalk leading to the rocket's main hold. Inside, the rocket was pristine. A maze of pipes flowed up the walls and across the ceiling. Several lights of all colors dotted gauges and dials everywhere she looked. Cid explained the purpose of each switch, panel, and tank as they went, but she was still overwhelmed by the sheer volume of information he recited.

“This here’s the engine room,” Cid announced as he led them through a narrow doorway. “These oxygen tanks are gonna help get this baby off the ground. The Shinra No. 26 ain’t gonna be able to launch without them. They’re a vital part of the rocket.”

Rufus glanced around the room with feigned interest. “Cid, what's down that way?” he asked, indicating a short flight of stairs leading off from the engine room.

“Hm?” Cid followed his pointing to the indicated stairway. “That's where the launch mechanism is located along with the rest of the oxygen tanks. Sorry, Mr. Vice President, but nobody is allowed down there.”

“Is that so?” asked Rufus, a hint of curiosity in his voice. “Someone just went down there. He came in behind us. He did seem rather suspicious…”

“Dammit!” Cid raged, stomping towards the stairs. “What’s he up to? I’m gonna go take a look. You two wait here.”

“Cid,” Rufus held his hand out to stop him. “Cissnei is a Turk,” he said looking past him to lock eyes with her. “Apprehending perpetrators is their job. It would be better to let her handle it.”

“But, sir,” she argued. “I have orders to escort–”

“I’m ordering you to go and look,” Rufus insisted harshly. “I will brook no disobedience. Now hurry up and go.”

“Yes, sir.”

Shaking the feeling that Rufus wanted her gone, she ducked her head obediently and did as she was told. Heading for the stairs, she was acutely aware of his eyes on her as she passed by him and hurried down the stairs. The passage was darker than the engine room with just a single string of lights across the ceiling to light the way. Her footsteps echoed loudly on the metal steps. At the base of the stairs, it opened up into a small control room. Several panels lined the walls, each with its own screen and a plethora of gauges. More oxygen tanks lined the far wall. A man was knelt next to the end tank. She watched as he pulled it away from the wall and cranked a wheel on the top. A hissing sound erupted as oxygen leaked quickly from the tank.

“Hey!” she shouted, startling the man. “What are you doing here?”

“Dammit!” she heard the man mutter under his breath as he turned to face her with his hands raised. When he saw her, his eyes widened.

Cissnei immediately recognized him from the airfield as the hijacker of the Tiny Bronco. The man quickly jumped to his feet, intending to dart past her. She drew her gun and raised it towards the fugitive once again.

“You’re not getting away!” she warned him as he came to a stop.

Unwilling to risk his life, the man gave up easily and stood quietly with his hands up as Cissnei radioed for backup. A minute later, two infantrymen came down the stairway, weapons drawn. One of them cuffed the man’s hands behind him and proceeded to escort him off the rocket. Cissnei followed them up the stairs and met up with Rufus and Cid in the engine room.

“What was that all about?” Cid asked as she came up the steps. “That was the same guy that tried to steal my partner, wasn't it?”

“I think so,” said Cissnei with a hint of concern.

“The launch tomorrow should be quite a sight,” Rufus said, sounding surprisingly optimistic for the first time. “Give it your all.”

“Captain Cid, you might want to check down there,” Cissnei said, ignoring the Vice President's remarks and pointing over her shoulder towards the stairs. “He was doing something back by the oxygen tanks.”

Cid’s temper flared, and he started for the stairs. “What the &#%$^ was he doing?” he raged. “Can you see the Vice President out? I have to look into this right away.”

“Yes, Captain,” Cissnei called after him. “Best of luck tomorrow.”

But Cid hardly heard her as he ran down the stairs to the launch room below. He bounded down the last step and strode straight over to the row of oxygen tanks. He quickly noticed the tank that had been moved out and checked the dial on top. It read empty.

“Damn!” he screamed, his voice echoing loudly around the inside of the small room.

Turning back to the steps, he rushed back upstairs and called for an engineer. The tank would have to be refilled immediately. As he passed through the engine room, he came to a sudden halt. His face flushed hot as he noticed a large gap in the row of tanks there.

“What the hell is this?! Someone’s stolen the ^$@#ing oxygen tank!” he fumed. Uttering an endless string of curse words, he stomped to the cockpit and snatched up the radio. “Hey!” he shouted to the control tower. “Get me an engineer over here pronto!”

“What seems to be the matter, Captain?” the operator inquired calmly.

“Some $%@# punk's been on my rocket and stolen one of my oxygen tanks!” he said explicitly. “I need a new one ready on the double!”

“That means we’ll have to run another check,” the operator reported. “I don’t know if we can make it in time for the launch.”

“Damn it…” Cid cursed again under his breath. “I don't care how you do it, just see that it gets done!”

He slammed down the radio and stormed from the cockpit. He paused again in the engine room to study the empty space where the tank should have been. Mumbling another string of curses, he marched from the room to begin a thorough examination of the rest of the rocket.

--

[Rocket Control Center]

Verdot stood vigilantly next to the President. Cissnei had just briefed him on the disturbances at the rehearsal. Something felt off to him, although the President and his son seemed unconcerned, albeit for different reasons. At his request, Cid had joined them at the control center to discuss the future of the rocket launch.

“Mr. President, the launch must be postponed,” Rufus insisted vehemently. With arms crossed tightly over his chest, he faced off with his father. “It would be nothing short of recklessness to proceed.”

“No. We can’t stop now. The whole world is watching,” his father responded, sounding insulted by the idea.

“That’s right,” Cid sided with the President. “It won’t come down to that. The check will be done in time for the launch. We’ve got our best mechanic on the job.”

“It’s Cid’s life that’s on the line,” Rufus pointed out in a rare show of altruism. “Are you saying that you don’t care, Mr. President?”

“I don’t mind,” Cid interjected, stepping forward.

“What are you saying?” Rufus snapped back. “You don’t care if you die?”

“Yeah, that's right,” Cid shot back, raising his voice and jabbing a pointing finger in the Vice President’s direction. “Not being able to go to space is the same as dying to me. If we delay the launch, we won’t be able to try again for another six months, and who knows what’ll happen between now and then. I’m willing to take my chances.”

Rufus shot the man a leering glare and turned back to his father. “Mr. President, what will you do if the launch fails?” he suggested. “It would become a worldwide scandal. The damage to our company’s image would be immeasurable.”

President Shinra met his glare, but barely gave the concern a passing thought. “If it fails, we will simply manipulate the broadcast,” he replied.

“What do you think that would accomplish?” Rufus sneered.

“Shinra must show the world its power,” the President thundered at his son. “We must regain the trust lost due to AVALANCHE and once more ensure the world’s stability.”

“This is stupid,” said Rufus with a snort of disdain. “Everything you do reeks of superfluity. Under my leadership, Shinra’s profits would increase tenfold.”

“You are too naïve,” said the President, speaking down to his son. “You can’t run a company with only theory.”

“Hoooold it!” Cid shouted over the two men. He stepped boldly between them and waved his hands, demanding everyone's attention. “I only wanna know one thing! Are we launching or not? That’s all. You can settle your petty family squabble later.”

Rufus shot daggers at the man with his eyes. The President returned the same look to his son and announced with finality, “The launch will go ahead tomorrow as planned.”

Rufus drilled his father with a look of intense displeasure.

“OK,” Cid said coolly, backing off. “In that case, I’d better get going. Gotta kick that slowpoke mechanic’s ass into gear!”

With that, Cid left the party, leaving the Turks to deal with the uncomfortable situation brewing in the control room.

Chapter 40: 15: Onward to the Distant Heavens, part 2

Day of Launch

Cissnei stood loitering outside the control tower. For the day of the launch, she had been relieved of her escort duties to the Vice President. He would be observing the launch form the control room with his father, who was accompanied by the Chief. Enjoying her unusual opportunity of freedom, Cissnei leaned back against the side of the building, eyes lifted to take in the show under the clear blue sky and warm sunshine. She could see the rocket towering in the near distance across the open field. In less than two hours, Cid would be on his way into space. Then her phone went off.

“Cissnei.” It was Tseng. “Captain Cid’s gone miss.”

Cissnei pushed off the building, eyes straining to see the rocket. “What!?” she gasped. “But the launch is starting soon, isn’t it?”

“Find him,” Tseng ordered, his voice strained and stern. “Get over to the launch pad. That's where he was last seen. Someone has been trying to get this rocket launch stopped. They may have progressed to more desperate measures.”

Cissnei was already running towards the rocket site as she confirmed, “Understood.”

She pocketed the phone as she ran. There’s no way he’d up and leave, she reasoned. Something must have happened.

She soon entered the narrow strip of trees surrounding the launch site. Dappled sunlight filtered down through the branches overhead, creating an ever shifting pattern of light and darkness on the forest floor. The rocket was visible through the woods just ahead and across a broad grass-covered prairie. She set her eyes on it and pushed through the trees. As she neared the far side, a loud crashing of brush sounded off to her left.

“Hold it right there, you &$^%$!”

“Damn it!” an unfamiliar voice shouted. “Run for it!!”

Cissnei recognized the first voice. “Captain Cid!” she called as she changed course and ran towards the sound. Ducking under branches and leaping over logs, she crashed through the trees in a desperate dash. Clearing a thicket, she came upon the captain staggering through the trees. He was flailing his arms as he pulled at several coils of rope looped around his shoulders and yanked them over his head.

“Cid, what happened?” she exclaimed, taking hold of one of the ropes and helping to untangle him. “Please tell me you're all right,” she added.

“I'm fine!” Cid fumed. “But those ^%$& punks aren't going to be! Prepare for a world of hurt, you rocket-sabotaging freaks. Nobody gets in the way of my launch!” Throwing the rope forcefully to the ground, he started after the two men.

Cissnei lunged after him and caught him by the arm. “Captain Cid! It’s almost time for the launch! You need to get back to the rocket now!”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be done with these &^$#$# in no time!” he insisted.

“There isn't time!” Cissnei warned him. “You can't miss it!”

Cid stopped and glared after the men as they disappeared into the brush. “Damn it, you're right,” he finally said and spit to the side. “I'll have to leave those #@^%& to you. I'm out of here! I can't miss my moment of glory. I’ll tell you all about space once I get back!”

“Good luck, Captain,” Cissnei saluted him.

He returned the motion with an accompanying grin and then took off running back towards the Shinra No. 26. Cissnei followed him to the edge of the wooded area and watched him cross the wide open space to the launch pad. Everything was going to be fine, she told herself. She checked her watch. One hour till launch time. She would need to get back to the control tower before then.

“Hehehe. Sweet dreams,” came a sinister voice behind her.

Before she could react, a hard object knocked the back of her head, and she crumbled to the forest floor.

--

[Inside the Shinra No. 26 Cockpit]

Cid strapped himself into the pilot seat and scanned all of his equipment. He ran through a mental checklist in his head. All seemed to be in order. He smiled as he lowered his goggles into place.

Reaching up to the dash, he flipped a switch and radioed the control tower. “Instrument panel all clear,” he reported. “Shinra No. 26, ready for launch.”

“Engine pressure rising,” the controller answered. “Shinra No. 26, launch in T minus three minutes. Beginning countdown.”

“Finally.” Cid leaned back in his seat, took a deep breath, and sighed contentedly.

--

[Rocket Control Center]

President Shinra stood at the large glass pane encasing the top of the control center. It offered an unrivaled view of the launch site. The control center itself was abuzz with engineers and white-coated Shinra employees running every which way, checking and rechecking instruments and couriering an endless stream of reports.

Verdot stood at his immediate right, ever vigilant. His eyes swept the control room in constant motion and occasionally watched the sky outside. A never ending relay of reports from his subordinates whispered from the small speaker in his earpiece. Despite the high stakes of the operation, he remained perfectly at ease, his pulse hardly elevated. Outwardly, he exuded an air of total confidence. He stole a barely perceptible glance over his shoulder to Rufus Shinra.

The Vice President slowly paced the area directly behind Verdot and his father with arms crossed, staunchly refusing to observe the launch. He had made his opinion on the matter quite clear. He cast a narrow-eyed glare up at his father. He hadn't spoken to him since their heated exchange the day before. It didn't bother him though. It wasn't the first time he and his father had not seen eye to eye, but if all went according to plan, it would be the last. He looked to the Turk at his father's side. The older man was certainly circumspect in his duties. With a huff, he returned to his pacing.

Engine pressure rising. Shinra No. 26, 3 minutes to launch. Beginning countdown. President Shinra smiled as he heard the announcement over the control room intercom.

“At last, the launch is about to begin,” President Shinra clapped his hands with satisfaction and cast a narrow-eyed glance over his shoulder towards his son. Rufus continued his pacing and refused to meet his gaze. The President turned next to Verdot. “And there have been no further incidents,” he added triumphantly, looking once more at his son as though to say I told you so. Rufus didn't take the bait.

“Something could still go wrong, Mr. President,” Verdot cautioned him, remaining attentive. “However, I will guard you and the Vice President should anything arise.”

Rufus drilled both of them with a hate filled glare as he fumed inside. Damn you, Verdot. He hasn’t left the old man’s side for even a moment. AVALANCHE can’t make its move like this. Reluctantly, he admitted that his hopes for an assassination attempt would have to be abandoned. Too bad looks couldn’t kill. If so, his father would be dead already, along with his Turk. Rufus continued to shoot daggers at the two old men. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one fit to lead Shinra, and he was not about to let anyone, least of all his father or his Turks, stand in his way. No matter what it took, he would be sure his father left office early.

--

[Inside the Shinra No. 26 Cockpit]

Cid listened to the countdown, checking and rechecking his instruments as he did so. All readings looked good. He began to relax. He would soon be going into space. Imagine that! His wildest dreams come true. He would soon be among the stars – the first man ever. It was really happening.

Then, a throbbing red light, accompanied by a startling siren shattered his thoughts as the pulsating light turned the inside of the cockpit blood red.

“What the–?” Cid bolted straight up in his seat and snatched up the radio. “What’s happening!?” he demanded.

“Cid! We have an emergency situation!” the controller informed him urgently from the tower. “A mechanic is still in the engine section of the rocket.”

“What!?” he raged. “Who is the little ^%$@!?”

“I don’t know,” the controller responded, trying to remain levelheaded. “I'm patching you into the intercom in the engine section.”

“Dammit!” Cid cursed. When he heard the intercom click over, he demanded, “Who the &%$#’s still in there!?”

“It’s me, Captain,” came a woman's voice over the intercom. “Don’t mind me, go ahead with the launch.”

“What are you still doin’ in there!?” he exclaimed.

“I was still concerned,” the mechanic explained. “The results of the oxygen tank test weren’t satisfactory.”

Cid grew livid and let the mechanic have it. “You stupid little ^$#^%! It’s gonna get so hot in there that there ain’t gonna be shit left! You’re gonna be burnt to a crisp! You’re gonna die! You know that, doncha!?”

“Cid!” The controller came back on the line. “Forget about her. We won’t make it in time. Ignition in thirty seconds. Beginning countdown.”

“Hey, wait a second!” Cid shouted, his mind reeling.

--

In the woods below, Cissnei awoke face down in a pile of leaves. Her phone was going off. The shrillness of it set off a pounding headache in her temples. Pushing herself up slowly, she fished the phone from her pocket and answered groggily. “Hello?”

“Cissnei!” It was Tseng. He sounded near frantic. “Where are you now?”

She looked around. “I'm in the woods just outside the launch site.”

“What!?” Tseng shouted into the phone. “What are you still doing there!?”

“I was attacked–”

“Save it for later,” Tseng cut her off. “The countdown has started.”

“Already?” Cissnei asked, ignoring the pounding in her head and bolting to her feet as she looked towards the rocket. How long had she been unconscious?

“You're too close. You’ll get caught up in the blast like this!” he warned her. “Get as far away from there as you can!”

“All right,” she replied, already darting through the trees in the opposite direction of the rocket.

--

Dammit… you wanna make me a murderer? Cid thought. He rubbed a hand over his sweaty face. What… What am I… What am I supposed to do…? Oh man, the Moon… Outer space… My dreams…

The radio clicked back on. The controller announced, “Ignite engine!”

A slow rumble started to vibrate through the cockpit, growing quickly in intensity.

“Shiiiiit!” Closing his eyes, Cid made a fist and pounded the pressure switch to his left.

--

President Shinra, Verdot, and Rufus stood watching as a plume of smoke erupted from underneath the Shinra No. 26. A sound like distant thunder permeated the control room, accompanied by a slight vibration of its contents. Seconds passed by as the rumbling slowly subsided and the exhaust cloud evaporated from around the rocket, leaving it enveloped in a thin haze still on the launch pad.

“What!?” President Shinra muttered when the rocket failed to lift off. He pressed up close to the glass viewing pane, palms leaving smudges on its polished surface.

“It’s not taking off?” Verdot pondered, stepping closer to the window. “Cid must have activated the emergency shutdown. He did it to save the life of that mechanic.” He crossed his arms as he stared out at the rocket. He was willing to risk his own life, but refused to sacrifice someone else’s…

Rufus turned his back on the scene with a satisfied hum. “I believe this settles it,” he announced triumphantly.

He cast a victorious grin over his shoulder and left his father dumbfounded in the control room. With hands in his pockets, he strolled confidently to the elevator and saw himself out of the control tower. He had more plans to make.

--

[Shinra Conference Room]

Shinra’s board of directors all sat gathered in the spacious conference room on the 67th Floor of the Shinra Building. Director Palmer, the head of the Space Exploration Department, sat nervously near the center of the table. He was a rather stout man with thinning gray hair. His rotund belly strained the buttons of his mustard colored suit beneath his nervously interlocked fingers. Across from him sat Director Heidegger and Director Scarlet, head of Weapons Development. The only woman on the board, she possessed a commanding presence as she cast the pitiful Palmer a look of dislike from behind her thick eyelashes. Lifting a ringed finger, she delicately tucked a strand of her stray blonde locks behind one ear as she then looked to the President on her left. At the other end of the table, Director Reeve Tuesti, head of Urban Development, was seated next to the Vice President. A couple seats down the table, Professor Hojo joined the conference, but appeared uninterested in whatever affairs were being discussed. He was not pleased to be called back from Nibelheim for this meeting. Chief Verdot rounded out the collection of Shinra executives, finding a seat next to Reeve.

Clearing his throat, Rufus Shinra folded his hands on the table before him and looked each director in the eye as he addressed them. “So it’s unanimous. With this, the wasteful Space Program will be put on hold.”

President Shinra sat glowering at the head of the table, across from his pompous, gloating son, obviously unhappy with the results of the directors' vote.

“However…” Rufus continued, ignoring his father's foul mood. “Even with the cancellation of the program, it’s too late to recoup our losses.”

Reeve nodded in agreement to his left. Across the table from him, Director Heidegger did the same. Buoyed by the confirmation of the two directors, Rufus returned his gaze to his father.

“How do you intend to take responsibility for this?” he asked.

An unsettling stuffiness seemed to fill the room as father and son glared silently at one another. To be talked down to in front of his own array of directors brought an unflattering redness to the President’s face that clashed terribly with his burgundy suit.

“I’ll think of something…” he replied flippantly, refusing to be put down by his own son in the company of his executives. “This executive meeting is adjourned.”

As one, the six directors and the Vice President rose from the table and filed towards the door, most appearing eager to leave the deteriorating situation before it grew worse. Rufus situated himself boldly by the door as the others left, and a couple of the directors even dared to shake the Vice President's hand as they dispersed.

“The Vice President has grown into a sensible young man,” Reeve confided in Verdot as they stepped out into the hall. “He may be prepared to take over sooner than we think.”

Verdot nodded, but said nothing. The Vice President was making a strong case for himself indeed.

--

[Turk Control Room, Unknown Floor, Shinra Building]

Tseng’s pulse suddenly spiked as he bolted up from his seat and leaned closer to the monitor. His hands flew to the keyboard as he switched the screen to a second camera, then a third.

“What is this?” he mumbled.

Beside him at a second screen bank, Reno twisted in his chair. Looking away from his own computer monitor, he pulled off his headset and left it hanging around his neck. “Somethin’ wrong, Tseng?” he asked lazily.

“Take a look at this,” he invited him. Stepping aside, he tapped his monitor screen.

With a sigh, Reno pushed off his desk and rolled his chair towards Tseng. Sliding up beside him, he looked at the screen to which Tseng was pointing. He squinted his eyes as he worked to interpret the slightly grainy image.

“What’s wrong with that surveillance camer– Whoa!” He shot up out of his seat, sending his chair shooting back across the room where it crashed loudly into the conference table behind them.

“This is from the reactor under construction in Corel,” Tseng told him.

“The place is crawling with AVALANCHE!” Reno exclaimed as Tseng scrolled through the other screens.

Tseng nodded, frowning. “It has been completely occupied.”

“I thought we crushed their headquarters,” Reno said, confused.

Tseng crossed his arms as he watched the screen. “The group itself appears to have survived,” he said grimly.

Reno shook his head as he stepped back from the monitor. “That’s not good,” he grumbled. “We need to get to Corel on the double.”

“Get a hold of Rude and Cissnei as well,” Tseng ordered. “I'll inform the Chief. This problem must be dealt with swiftly.”

“Yes, sir,” Reno hailed and bolted from the room.

Tseng picked up his phone and called the Chief, continuously eyeing the AVALANCHE activity on the monitor. How did they get this far unnoticed? he wondered. The thought did not sit well.

Chapter 41: 16: The Muddy Course of Inexorable Fate, part 1

[8 May 0003] [8:30am]

[Corel]

The mako reactor at Corel sat nestled in a natural valley made by a ring of low mountains. The mountains themselves had sustained the town for as long as anyone could remember. Rich veins of coal honeycombed their interiors, providing the town with its own energy and source of income. Now the mountains would house a new energy source, with the reactor pumping precious mako up from the rich reservoir located beneath the valley floor. The townspeople had been skeptical at first, but now embraced the project whole-heartedly.

The reactor itself was nearly completed. First, the steel frame had been erected, then the all-important pumps and mechanical structures that made the generators work had been brought in while the skin of the reactor was riveted into place on the outside. Unlike most reactors, this one had its entrances located at the top, rather than the base. Two long catwalks led from the nearby cliff sides to the two entrances located on either side at the top of the reactor.

Atop one of the adjacent cliff sides, Elfe headed a squadron of troops at the base of one of the walkways. Shears and Fuhito accompanied her at the front of the group. She stared down at the nearly completed reactor, the pump that would suck the life of the Planet out of its very foundation; and her fists tightened in anger. This reactor was not yet operational. They had arrived just in time. She turned to face her soldiers, her cape splaying out around her on the gentle mountain breeze.

“This mako reactor is now under AVALANCHE’s control,” she declared jubilantly. “We cannot allow any more of these reactors to be built. Neither can we allow Shinra to continue to perpetrate its atrocities. Through this occupation we will reveal their evil ways to the world! May this bring about the ruin of the Shinra Company!”

“Shinra will not wait to retaliate,” Fuhito warned them all. “Oppose them to your very last breath.”

“Remember the sacrifices of our comrades!” Shears reminded them with an angry shake of his fist. “For their sake, we have to crush Shinra!”

“Judgement upon Shinra!” Elfe cried, pumping her fist in the air.

Her troops did likewise. “Judgement upon Shinra! Judgement upon Shinra!”

--

The Shinra chopper flew in low, skirting below the peaks of the mountains concealing the mako reactor. Tseng directed Reno to land the helicopter just north of the town, between it and the mountains. The chopper descended in a cloud of dust. The village of Corel was not much to look at. Similar to its distant neighbor of Nibelheim, the mountain town itself was small and quaint. The homes were rustic but well built; and the landscape was bare and dry. Before the dust had time to settle, Tseng was already throwing open the helicopter doors and disembarking. They didn't have time to lose.

Rude and Cissnei followed his lead and exited the chopper. Reno joined them after shutting the engine down and securing the landing mechanisms. Outside the chopper, Tseng stood silently as he reviewed the lay of the land.

“We’ll split up from here and infiltrate the reactor from all directions,” he instructed the others. “If the Corel reactor is lost, the company’s very existence will be at risk. Be quick. Be discreet.”

“Understood,” Cissnei nodded.

Reno saluted them and headed out. “See you all inside.”

Rude and Tseng left without a word. Each Turk headed for their predetermined route towards the reactor. There happened to be four points of entrance. The Chief had insisted that they take advantage of all four. By doing so, not only could they recapture the reactor but perhaps block off all escape routes as well. It was time to take the leaders of AVALANCHE into custody and put an end to the faction once and for all.

--

[Shinra Building, Midgar]

Verdot stepped off the private elevator and pushed through the doors to the President's office. President Shinra stood at the large window overlooking his city. Upon hearing the office door, he turned to greet Verdot.

The Turk’s footsteps echoed staccato and quick as he crossed the immaculately polished floor and approached the desk.

“Sir, the Vice President has departed,” he informed him in short clipped syllables.

The President’s shoulders rose and fell as he took in a deep breath. “That Rufus…” he grumbled. He paused to take a breath of his cigar. “Stop him before he goes and does something stupid,” he ordered in a puff of smoke.

Verdot bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”

“Things have gotten serious,” the President cautioned. “Take emergency measures, but do so with utmost secrecy. I’m not letting him topple the Shinra Company! I’ll protect my company, no matter what it takes!”

Verdot nodded once more in agreement before turning back and heading for the elevator. Inside, he pressed the button for the roof. There, a chopper was waiting for his immediate departure.

--

[Mt Corel Coal Mines]

A large, well-muscled man with dark skin and close cropped hair knelt next to a small set of railroad tracks leading deeper into the coal mines. The mines themselves were extensive, and Barret Wallace knew each tunnel by heart. The coal seams in Mt Corel had sustained him and his village for generations. These tunnels were like a second home to him. He tightened a bolt on the rail car sitting on the tracks loaded with sooty black coal. Then, grabbing hold of the side of it, he pulled himself up and gave the side of it a hard pat. The sound of it echoed loudly in the underground passage.

“Good. Everything’s fine with this cart too,” he said aloud to himself. “That’s it for this mornin’s checkup. Now it’s all set for everyone to start diggin’ up that coal.”

He chuckled good-naturedly to himself. He was a good-hearted man, accustomed to the hard work of the mines and grateful for the sustenance they provided for him and his wife. His life was a simple one, and one that suited him well.

Behind him, he heard footsteps crunching on the coarse dirt floor lining the tracks. Turning around, he met a man in crisp khaki fatigues striding towards him.

“Hey!” the man shouted as he drew closer.

Barret crossed his arms as he eyed the smaller man with scrutiny. “Who’re you? Haven’t seen yo’ face ‘round here before,” he greeted him gruffly.

The man came closer, speaking matter-of-factly. “We’re blocking off the mine. You should get out of here.”

“Whaddaya mean!?” Barret asked warily, wrinkling his brow.

“It’s for the construction of the reactor,” the man explained.

“Oh, so you’re one of them construction workers,” Barret's face lit up amiably. “I’ll jes have to go along with ya if it’s for the reactor. Everyone in the village’s lookin’ forward to having it. We’ve all got our hopes ridin’ on it. So get it finished soon, ya hear!”

He offered the man a good-natured wave, which he returned, then both men turned and went their separate ways. Nearing the entrance of the mine, Barret began to pat the coal dust from his trousers. As the dark cloud of soot rose up around him, he realized he had been humming a favorite old tune of his. The construction of the mako reactor certainly had him feeling quite jovial lately.

So the reactor’s just about done, huh, The Corel Mako Reactor… He liked the sound of it. Maybe now the village will begin to prosper. It’s the Age of Mako after all. Gotta go with the flow. He chuckled at his own pun. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he nearly missed the Turk coming into the mine ahead of him. He paused just before colliding with the young woman.

“Sorry. My bad,” he told her apologetically and moved out of her way. With the construction going on, it seemed he was growing accustomed to running into Shinra employees in strange places.

“You’ll have to excuse me, but I’m in a hurry,” said Cissnei as she darted past him.

“Don’t sweat it,” she heard the man mutter behind her.

Cissnei pulled up and looked back at the man. “Are you from around here?” she asked. “The mako reactor’s straight ahead, right?”

“Yeah. But the reactor’s off-limits today,” he informed her. “They’re wrappin’ up construction.”

“What? Who told you that?” she asked warily.

“One of the construction workers just came through from the other end of the mine. It opens up near the reactor,” he explained. “He told me they're closing it to finish up the reactor.”

Cissnei shook her head. “That's impossible. We've received reports that all the construction workers have gone missing. The reactor is crawling with AVALANCHE troops now. They want to blow it up.”

Barret's face registered his shock with a slack jaw and arched eyebrows. He looked at the Turk incredulously. “Say what!? Those guys’re actually tryin’ to stop construction?”

“Exactly,” Cissnei confirmed, turning away and starting back up the tunnel. She'd wasted too much time.

“Dammit,” Barret cursed behind her. “They’re not getting’ away with this.”

“I’m here to take care of them,” the Turk assured him.

“Thanks a bunch. Jes give me the word if there’s anythin’ I can do,” he called after her. “I wanna help if I can.”

Cissnei paused for moment, thinking his local knowledge might be used to her advantage. “I’d like to get inside the reactor unnoticed. You wouldn’t know of a way in, would you?”

A big grin split the man's dark face. “I’ll show ya the way.”

“Great! You’re a real life-saver. I’m Cissnei. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Barret,” he introduced himself. “Awright. Let’s get goin’.”

Cissnei stepped aside as the large man strode passed her to lead the way. A layer of black dust seemed to coat everything. Barret led her to a set of narrow railroad tracks. The loaded rail car he had inspected earlier remained untouched.

“This is a coal mine, right?” Cissnei asked him.

“That’s right,” he nodded. “Corel’s a coal minin’ town. I work here too – dug all this. The whole mountain’s honeycombed with tunnels. It’s kinda roundabout, but this path’ll get us to the reactor.”

“Let's just hurry then,” she urged him, walking closely on his heels. The big man didn't move very fast.

The pair walked on in silence, with Barret leading the way down one tunnel then another, occasionally making a sharp right and later a left as new tunnels branched off the one they were currently traversing. Cissnei began to wonder if she ever would've found her way through on her own.

“Dammit,” Barret broke the silence. “Think they can jes come waltzin’ in and do as they please. I’ve no pity for fools like them.”

Cissnei had to agree with his outlook. Before she could speak up, he led her abruptly around another corner and the tunnel opened up before them.

“This path leads out of the mines,” he told her pointing towards the daylight at the end of the tunnel. “The mako reactor’s just outside.”

“Thank you,” Cissnei told him as she darted past. “You’ve been a great help.”

“I’m counting on ya, Turk,” he shouted after her. “Corel’s future’s in your hands. Make sure ya take back that reactor!”

Chapter 42: 16: The Muddy Course of Inexorable Fate, part 2

Cissnei walked quietly but quickly through the lower hall of the reactor, weapon ready. But to her surprise, she didn't encounter a single member of AVALANCHE. The place felt like a tomb. So quiet. What’s going on? she wondered to herself. Security is surprisingly poor in here.

The corridor ended at the center of the reactor. There, the corridor opened up to a metal walkway that spanned across the pool of mako at the bottom of the reactor. Three more walkways met with it at a large square platform near the center of the reactor’s hollow dome. Cissnei cautiously stepped out onto the walkway. Her footsteps echoed loudly here, despite her care.

Looking to the platform, she saw that someone else was already there. His back was to her, but his white suit was unmistakable, as was his blond hair and confident self-carriage. He stood at ease, with one hand in his pocket and his face upturned towards the upper levels of the reactor. He never looked at her, but seemed to know she was there.

She stared at him in disbelief. “Mr. Vice President…?”

“So you managed to make it all the way here,” Rufus said without turning to face her. “I should expect nothing less from the Turks. You’ve been a thorn in my side for quite some time now.” He did not sound pleased.

“Why are you here!?” Cissnei asked, finding her voice and stepping closer. She lowered her weapon.

“Because AVALANCHE has started taking liberties, that’s why,” he nearly snarled.

He finally turned around to face her. His crystal blue eyes locked onto hers and refused to let them go. Cissnei froze under his gaze and grew increasingly uncomfortable by the intensity of it. Something was wrong. She could feel it, but she didn't understand it.

A series of approaching footsteps echoed from the other three walkways. Tseng appeared on the north entrance directly opposite from Cissnei. He seemed as shocked to find the President's son there as she had been. “Mr. Vice President…?” he stammered.

Reno and Rude entered seconds later, from the left and right, respectively.

“Why're you here?” Reno asked, skidding to a halt.

“Mr. Vice President, what is the meaning of this?” Tseng spoke over the other Turk as he quickly covered the remaining distance to the center platform.

With a dramatic sigh, Rufus turned his face to address Tseng over his shoulder, but another Turk interrupted him before he could speak.

“Everyone! Seize the Vice President!” Chief Verdot ordered. He strode urgently up the walkway behind Cissnei, his footsteps echoing loudly through the hollow dome. His eyes were focused solely on the President's son.

“Chief!” Tseng hailed.

“Why are you here!?” Rude asked, feeling thoroughly confused by the quickly escalating situation.

Reno watched the Chief approach with curiosity. Resting his baton on his shoulder, he blurted the question running through all their minds, “What’s going on!?”

The Chief brushed past Cissnei, never taking his eyes off of Rufus. His face was stern as he revealed, “The Vice President is the financier behind AVALANCHE.”

The air seemed to be sucked from the reactor as the other four Turks fell silent at the unexpected revelation.

Reno whistled quietly. “That explains a lot,” he mumbled.

“Like how classified information was leaked to AVALANCHE,” Tseng added grimly, nodding in agreement.

“These orders are directly from the President,” Verdot informed them all strictly, still not removing his eyes from Rufus Shinra. “The Vice President is to be brought back to the Shinra Building, where he will be confined in Turks’ headquarters.”

“Hmph,” Rufus hummed, unconcerned, as he shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. A self-satisfied smirk teased at his lips. “Have you all forgotten the situation you’re in?” he taunted.

Lifting his chin, he directed his eyes to the upper levels of the reactor. An amused peel of laughter floated down from above, echoing through the reactor's hollow metal dome. The Turks followed his gaze to the rail-lined platform above them. An unbroken row of AVALANCHE troops stood skirting the railing, peering down at them. Fuhito was among them. The laughter had been his.

“That is correct,” the man called down in jovial agreement with Rufus. “This reactor is under our control.”

“Fuhito!” Cissnei gasped quietly, quite shocked to see him alive after what had happened in Wutai.

Rufus stifled an amused chuckle as he swept his eyes across all the Turks before settling his gaze on Chief Verdot. “Looks like the tables have turned,” he sneered. “Well then, Fuhito. Take care of the Turks.”

Seemingly from out of nowhere, AVALANCHE troops closed in on the center platform from each of the four walkways, forcing the Turks to turn their backs on Rufus in order to face the approaching enemy ranks. All except Verdot. His eyes never wavered from the President's son.

“We are completely surrounded,” Tseng muttered grimly.

Reno growled in frustration. “We’ve really stepped into a hornet’s nest this time,” he fumed, casting an unhappy glare over his shoulder at the Vice President.

Rufus did not seem to notice their displeasure, or otherwise did not care. He returned his attention to Fuhito above.

“I did not authorize the occupation of this mako reactor,” he shouted up to him, his voice loud, clear, and commanding. “You’re violating our agreement. Such conduct must be dealt with strictly. Or should be… However, if you kill the Turks, I will consider the matter dropped.”

Another one of Fuhito's cackling laughs echoed around the reactor. “I’m afraid that I shall have to refuse,” he informed the Vice President haughtily.

Rufus caught his breath as though he'd been punched in the gut. His hands finally came out of his pockets as he stepped forward, as though that would bring him closer to Fuhito. Verdot saw a glimmer of panic in the Vice President's eyes.

“What’s that? Are you planning to betray me?” Rufus asked, his voice rising slightly in pitch despite his efforts to control it. “Then I’ll cut off your financial support,” he threatened, lifting a fist towards Fuhito.

“Oh, you will?” Fuhito called back, sounding amused. “It is no longer necessary anyway. We have already assembled a new force.”

“What!?” Rufus nearly choked on the word.

“You are no longer of any use to us,” Fuhito informed him calmly as he adjusted the glasses on the end of his nose.

Slowly, Rufus let out a long, unsteady breath as his gaze dropped to the floor near his feet. “What have I done…” he muttered despairingly.

“Regrets? Now?” Fuhito taunted him from above. “That is precisely why you will never surpass your father.”

Rufus's head shot back up as his hands curled into tight fists. If looks could kill, Fuhito would have been dead ten times over. “What did you say!” Rufus screamed up at him.

Fuhito ignored the outburst and addressed his troops, “Now then, everyone, please take care of them.”

The troops down below began their advance towards the Turks. Moving quickly, Verdot closed the distance between himself and Rufus in two strides. Turning his back to him, he shielded the young man with his left arm and raised his right towards an encroaching enemy fighter.

“All of you! Protect the Vice President!” he commanded his Turks as he unleashed a ball of fire from the palm of hand.

Cissnei pulled back as the blast blew past her. She felt the searing heat of it on her skin as she heard the troopers behind her scream.

“Don’t let them lay a finger on the Vice President!” Verdot continued. “We will get him out of here.”

“Yes, sir!” his Turks replied in unison.

“Reno, take the left,” the Chief began calling out orders. “Rude, take right. Tseng, stay in the front. Cissnei, bring up the rear.”

Tseng turned to clear the path behind him as Reno and Rude moved in to flank the Vice President on either side. Cissnei stepped up to Verdot's right, joining him with her back to Rufus.

Above them, Shears joined Fuhito on the upper platform. Without looking at the scene below, he told him, “Preparations are complete.”

Elfe followed close behind him. “We are ready to blow up the reactor at any time,” she added.

On the platform below, time seemed to suddenly come to a halt. Verdot froze as he heard Elfe's announcement. Slowly, he turned his face upward, straining to see those on the upper platform. He knew Elfe's voice. It was from long ago, but he could never forget it.

“That voice!” he gasped in a hoarse whisper. Then he was shouting as loud as his lungs would allow, “Felicia!? You're alive!?”

On the upper platform, Elfe froze. Heart pounding in her ears, she suddenly found herself rushing to the railing. Gripping it tightly, she leaned over the barrier to look down at the Turks. A strange pang of recognition reverberated through her mind. She closed her eyes, her brow wrinkled. A string of words formed from the fringe of her memories.

“Kalm… Explosions… Laboratory…” she whispered the words slowly as they came to her.

Glimpses of lost memories returned to her then.

“This experiment is a failure. Dispose of the sample,” Hojo's voice echoed through her head.

“Stop…” she remembered thinking as the professor withdrew.

“Let’s see how Verdot is doing next.”

“I’m… not dead…” she had wanted to scream, but no words came.

Elfe's grip tightened on the railing as her head began to throb painfully. More memories erupted in her mind's eye. She could hear the crackle of fire, feel its heat. The stench of smoke and burning flesh permeated her nostrils.

“It hurts… It hurts so much…” she could hear her own small voice crying out.

“Hang in there,” a familiar, comforting voice had told her. “I’ll get you treated right away.”

That same voice was calling to her now. Her eyes shot open, and she was once again staring down at the Turk below. “…. …Papa?” she finally said, her lips quivering

Behind her, Shears had drawn near in anticipation of another one of her debilitating attacks. The word stopped him in his tracks, hand outstretched. “Papa?” he echoed.

Fuhito, too, turned his gaze to Elfe in shock.

Elfe’s shoulders suddenly seized up as her entire body went tense. She then staggered back away from the railing, one hand to her face as a loud, agonizing moan tore from her throat. Shears took a step towards her, hand reaching, but was halted as bright flashes of blue and white light enveloped her. Jerking back, Shears and Fuhito shielded their eyes, unable to look at Elfe directly. Then, as quickly as it had started, the light ceased, and Elfe collapsed silently to the floor without so much as a groan.

“Elfe!” Shears exclaimed, lunging towards her. He dropped to his knees at her side. She laid perfectly still before him, save for the steady rise and fall of her back to show she was breathing. His hands hovered uncertainly over her prone body, but dared not touch her.

Behind him, Fuhito stood gazing down at the woman, a look of knowing spreading across his thin face. A satisfied chuckle escaped him, and he sighed. “It has finally begun.”

Shears face shot up. “What!?” he exclaimed, twisting around to look up at the other man.

“With this, everything is in order,” Fuhito explained, excitement rising in his voice. “The return of her memories appears to have been the trigger.”

On the ground, Elfe suddenly began to stir. Slowly, she pushed herself up to her hands and knees. Her arms shook beneath her, and her breaths came in short, shallow pants as she attempting to crawl towards the railing. Her hand was outstretched before her, reaching for something unseen. Then, just as suddenly, she collapsed again.

Shears reached for her, but was roughly pushed aside by Fuhito. The scientist stepped over the prone woman and knelt beside her. Rolling her over onto her back, he worked one arm under her shoulders and the other below her knees. He then rose up with surprising ease, cradling her protectively in his arms. Stepping over to the railing, he looked down at his captive audience.

“Worthless beings who hurt the Planet,” he shouted down to them angrily. “You shall all be returned to it and in turn heal its wounds!”

“Felicia!” Verdot called out, ignoring the man’s threats.

With a snarl, Fuhito turned away from the railing and disappeared from sight, his retreating footsteps echoing loudly across the platform. Jumping to his feet, Shears stepped over to the railing and cast a quick glance at the Turks before hurrying after Fuhito.

As their footsteps faded away, an unnerving silence filled the lower level of the reactor as every Turk turned to look at their Chief. Cissnei was the first to speak.

“Chief, your daughter is alive!?” she said it as though it was half question and half congratulations.

“But…” Rude was otherwise speechless.

“And she just had to be AVALANCHE's leader…” Reno muttered in disbelief, obviously hurting for the Chief.

Verdot closed his eyes as he hung his head. His hands curled into tight fists at his sides where they dared to tremble. A frustrated growl vibrated through his chest.

“Sir!” said Tseng urgently. “Elf– Go after Felicia!”

Verdot shook his head, once and firm. “I can’t,” he told them.

“Tseng's right!” Reno urged him. “Hurry up or you’ll lose sight of her!”

“But… I’m a Turk…” Verdot protested, reminding them that he had their own mission to oversee.

“You’ve always looked out for us, sir,” Tseng said. “But we can handle this one on our own.”

Verdot raised his head and looked back up towards the upper level where he had at last seen a glimpse of his daughter. The thought of losing her again now was unbearable.

“…Everyone …Escort the Vice President back to headquarters,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Tseng answered quickly. Stepping up behind Rufus, he took the young man firmly by the elbow.

“Do you think you can leave the Turks alive?” Rufus scoffed as he jerked his arm free of Tseng's grasp. He drilled Verdot with an icy glare and taunting smile. “Impossible. Death is the only way out of the Turks. You should know that better than anyone.”

Verdot turned to face the younger man and quickly closed the distance between them. With his face only inches from Rufus's, he spoke to him in a stern voice, “Sir, with all due respect, the only Turks know everything you’ve been up to. It’s a classified secret. Not even the executives will be informed about this.”

He held Rufus's gaze, making sure he understood the implications of the revelation. The Vice President finally averted his eyes with a dissatisfied grunt.

“This will be my last mission,” Verdot announced. “The President has asked me to relay this message to you: While you are in confinement, think carefully about what you have done.”

Rufus remained silent, keeping his eyes directed at the ground some distance away.

“Mr. Vice President,” the Chief continued, speaking more softly and placing a fatherly hand on the young man's shoulder. “Please don’t forget: the President has been willing to overlook your indiscretions up till now. This time is no different. There is no parent who does not wish for their children to be happy.”

He heard Rufus swear under his breath as he removed his hand and walked away. He stopped at the edge of the platform.

“Tseng,” he said without looking back.

“Yes, sir!”

“I’m leaving the rest to you. The Turks are in your hands now.”

“Yes, sir!” Tseng accepted. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for us up to now. I won’t let you down. We will work this out.”

“I know you won't,” Verdot told him, and then he was running after Fuhito and his daughter.

Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Cissnei watched their Chief disappear from view. No one spoke as his leaving slowly sank in. For the first time, they would be flying a mission without his direction. They were on their own.

“We should get moving,” Rufus spoke up, breaking the silence. “Fuhito plans to blow this place up.”

“Blow it up?” Reno spun to face the Vice President, eyes wide.

“I’m the one who gave him the detonator,” Rufus told him with a self-depreciating laugh.

Tseng put a hand on his shoulder. “This way, Mr. Vice President… Reno. Rude.”

“Yes, sir,” said Reno as they took up positions on either side of Rufus Shinra.

Cissnei filed in behind them, taking up the rear as they hurried onto the northern walkway. Three Ravens approached the platform, one from each direction– east, south, and west. Cissnei turned back to face them as the group went on ahead.

“We’ve got trouble!” she announced back over her shoulder. “AVALANCHE troops– Ravens!”

“Hurry, Cissnei!” Tseng called back, ordering her to leave them. “There isn't time!”

“It’s my job to bring up the rear,” Cissnei insisted, recalling Verdot's last order to her. “Leave everything here to me.”

“Just be quick about it, yo,” Reno cautioned as he moved even closer to Rufus.

“We’ll be waiting outside,” Rude added.

“Got it,” she said with a hasty salute. “You just get the Vice President to safety.”

Rude and Reno returned the gesture and hustled the Vice President after Tseng. Turning back to the Ravens, Cissnei raised her weapon and stepped out onto the center of the platform. She heard her companions’ footsteps echoing away behind her as they started their ascension of the stairways leading up. At the same time, the even, heavy footfalls of her opponents closed in from three sides. She knew she couldn’t take all three at once. Turning her sights on the one directly in front of her, she charged. The Raven raised his sword as she closed in and Cissnei lifted her shuriken to engage. At the last second, she dropped to the ground. With shuriken raised, she parried the sword aside as she tackled the man’s legs out from under him. He toppled over her, falling on the upraised prong of her weapon. Throwing him off, she looked up to see a second Raven already looking over her. He stabbed his sword point down, aiming for her heart.

With a startled cry, she rolled aside, kicking out with both feet. She caught the man’s left ankle, but he kept his balance. Tucking her shoulder, she somersaulted around behind him and came up leading with her weapon to parry the sword of the third Raven. Shoving him off, she backed her way down the south walkway. Behind her, she heard more footsteps. More Ravens, but she didn’t dare turn her back on the two already in front of her.

“Cissnei!”

Two gunshots echoed through the chamber as the two Ravens collapsed where they stood. Behind them, Ruluf stood with both guns at the ready. He flashed Cissnei a smile.

“Ruluf!” she gasped, both surprised and grateful for the other Turk's sudden appearance.

Another Raven approached from the western passage. With hardly a glance in his direction, Ruluf placed another bullet in the center of his forehead. As the man fell, two more came up to take his place. Ruluf fired off two more rounds.

“We have to hurry,” Cissnei cried, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the north walkway. “This place could blow up at any time!”

Ruluf turned a disbelieving expression towards her.

“AVALANCHE has this reactor rigged with explosives,” she explained quickly. “This way! We have to go!”

The two Turks bolted up the north passage as more Ravens advanced onto the center platform behind them. The northern walkway led to a series of open stairways and catwalks that switched back and forth as it climbed to the upper level of the reactor, much like a stretched out fire escape. From the upper level, the main exits were easily accessible.

They bounded up the first flight of steps two at a time. At the top, Ruluf paused to fire back down the stairs at a pursuing Raven.

“Leave them!” Cissnei urged, racing across the platform to the next set of stairs.

She heard Ruluf's feet pounding behind her as she started up. About halfway, the railing ended, not yet finished. She tried not to think about how close they ran to the unprotected ledge. She slowed cautiously at the top of the flight as the pathway switched back the other direction. There were three more flights in total. At the top of the last flight, Ruluf took the lead across the last open expanse of walkway.

“The exit is just ahead!” he called back to Cissnei.

She could see it too. At last, she thought, they were going to make it. Near the end of the platform, she heard a cry from above them. She glanced up just in time to see Shears dropping down on her from above, his face twisted in an angry snarl. Instinctively, she threw her arms up to shield herself. She felt his hands clamp down on her shoulders, twisting her around and throwing her off balance. A cry escaped her lips as she felt herself being pulled backwards. Then she was out over the edge of the platform, plummeting with Shears still latched on to her wrist.

“Cissneeeiiii!” Ruluf screamed her name as he leaned out over the ledge, hand outstretched towards the other Turk, but she was already too far out of reach. Together, she and Shears disappeared from sight at the bottom of the reactor. As he lost sight of her, a slow rumble vibrated the walkway on which he was laying. The explosives were starting to go off. Muttering curses, he pushed himself up and darted towards the exit.

Sprinting over the quivering walkway, he bolted through the reactor entrance and onto the long catwalk spanning the distance to the surrounding cliffs. The other Turks were waiting for them on the cliff at the end of the walkway. Staggering onto solid ground, Ruluf doubled over, chest heaving as he hauled in deep breaths. Tseng grabbed his arm, spinning him around to face him.

“Ruluf, where’s Cissnei?” he demanded, looking past him to the quaking reactor.

“She fell… in the reactor,” he said, shaking his head and turning to look back at the reactor with him.

“What?” Tseng shouted, although it wasn't really a question. It was quite clear what Ruluf had said.

“She’ll definitely make it,” Reno said optimistically, breaking the silence. “She has to. After all, she is a Turk.”

Every eye turned back to the reactor. They couldn’t leave her behind, yet they couldn’t risk another one of their own to go back for her. They were at an unforgivable stalemate.

Cissnei, we'll wait as long as we can, Tseng thought. But we can't wait forever…

--

[Shinra Conference Room]

President Shinra sat up in his chair before leaning forwards across the table towards Scarlet, the Director of Weapons Development. The director was busty blonde woman with eyes like ice and a smile like a dagger. She certainly stood out among his man-filled board, but that hardly meant she didn't fit in. She had made her usefulness well known,, such that now it was her expertise he sought to enlist.

“Scarlet,” he began tersely, “fly out to Corel. The mako reactor there has been bombed.”

His pale blue gaze met hers just long enough to catch the gleam of acknowledgement sparkle in her eye. With a smile on her crimson-glazed lips, Scarlet rose smoothly from the conference table and strode towards the door like a woman on a mission.

Chapter 43: 17: An Eruption of Fanged Chaos

Cissnei slowly opened her eyes and waited for her vision to come back into focus. She could feel the pattern of a cold metal grate pressing into her cheek. As she raised her head, she could see she had landed on another walkway much lower down in the reactor. A pool of glowing mako swirled and bubbled only inches below her. She was back at the bottom of the reactor again. The walkway directly beneath her body had been caved in, causing it to bow down dangerously close to the mako. She pushed herself up onto her knees and then slowly stood, cautiously testing the strength of the bent grate beneath her feet. It felt solid enough.

The interior of the reactor was now dark, the only illumination coming from dim emergency lighting along the main stairs and walkways and, of course, the mako itself. Looking up, she could see that the explosives had done their work well. The walkways and platforms were in shambles above her, and none of it appeared stable.

She suddenly remembered the others. Surely they made it, she thought. She pulled out her phone. She had to let Tseng know she was all right. The bright screen illuminated her face as she held it up.

“It’s no use. Look around you. You won’t get a signal this far underground.”

Cissnei startled at the sound of another voice in the depths of the reactor. Then she recognized it and remembered why she was down there in the first place.

“Shears!” she cried and spun around to face him in the dim light.

He was standing just a few feet farther up the platform, watching her every move. She reached instinctively for her shuriken but it was nowhere in sight, probably lost to the mako. With a scowl, she balled her fists instead and stepped towards him.

“Don't move,” he warned her, holding up a cautionary hand.

She froze, uncertain of his intentions. Afraid that perhaps the walkway they were standing on might be unstable, she obeyed. Shears watched her curiously. He crossed his arms, seeming to enjoy the concern and confusion playing out in her mind. Then it dawned on him.

“You… You really don’t know your way around this place, do you?” he said with a mischievous grin.

“And you do?” she snapped back.

Shears held back a chuckle and nodded. “Thanks to Rufus. He handed AVALANCHE the blueprints.”

“Then I will have you show me the way out,” she said boldly, taking another step towards him.

“So that’s how you wanna do it, huh?” he scoffed. “You really wanna fight it out down here?” He directed his eyes purposefully to the pool of bubbling mako spread out beneath them.

Cissnei moved quickly while his guard appeared to be down and landed a sturdy right hook to his jaw, followed swiftly by a knee to his ribcage. The man doubled over with a sharp gasp as Cissnei drew back, ready for him to counter.

“I’ll take my chances,” she announced determinedly.

He took a moment to recover before lunging at her fist first. The swing was wide and clumsy, and she easily dodged it. As he moved, she noticed him holding his left arm pinned tightly against his ribs. His breathing appeared labored, even painful.

“What’s the matter?” he asked angrily when he noticed her staring. “This isn’t over yet.”

Cissnei took another step back and lowered her fists. “Are you… Are you injured?” she asked.

“That’s none of your business,” Shears spat.

“You broke my fall didn't you?” Cissnei said, piecing it all together. “That's why I barely got a scratch, and you…”

“Like I said: that's none of your business,” he growled. “I’m taking you down right here and now.”

He lunged for her again. She leaned left, parrying his punch and grabbing him firmly by the wrist. She pulled him forward, using his own momentum to hurl him past her as she stepped around behind him. Finding the holster at the small of her back, she palmed her pistol and pointed it between his shoulder blades, steadying her aim with both hands. It clicked softly as she chambered a round. Shears heard it too. Straightening up, he squared his shoulders and stood still.

“If you’re gonna shoot, then shoot already,” he dared her without looking back.

Cissnei stood silent for several seconds, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She could hear the structure above them groaning and creaking. Lowering her weapon, she moved back a pace.

“No,” she told him.

“What!?” he scoffed, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder.

“I’m taking you with me,” Cissnei said with authority. “This place is going to collapse soon. But I don’t know my way around. That’s why you’re going to be my guide.”

Shears grunted and looked forward again. There was a stairway ahead of them, and he began walking towards it.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” he warned her bitterly. “I can kill you any time I like down here and nobody would know.”

Cissnei raised the gun again as a reminder. “Don’t try anything stupid. I don’t plan on dying in a place like this.”

With a quiet growl, Shears set his jaw and kept walking.

--

Outside, Tseng, Reno, Rude, and Ruluf stood pacing the head of the cliff-side path just outside the decimated reactor. Shielding his eyes against the sun and clouds of dust radiating from the destruction, Tseng focused on the darkened entrance, willing his eyes to see Cissnei's form appear in the doorway. But all he saw was a gaping rectangle of dust and darkness.

“Cissnei… What’s keeping her…” he muttered disappointedly.

“You really don’t know when to give up,” Rufus mocked him, crossing his arms in amusement. “You’re wasting your time. She’s probably already dead. Why don’t you just admit it?”

“Wait a little longer, VP,” Reno drawled impatiently at his side.

“Cissnei will come,” Rude insisted.

Then they, too, directed their hopeful gazes to the reactor entrance.

--

Shears led Cissnei silently up a darkened tunnel. It had been nearly ten minutes since they started and neither had yet spoken a word. Cissnei hoped he was leading her the right way, but she had no way of knowing. Like it or not, she had no choice but to trust him. And she didn't like it.

Behind them, she detected approaching footfalls.

“Hold on,” she ordered Shears.

They stopped as the footsteps drew closer. Cissnei dared to take her eyes off Shears long enough to glance back over her shoulder. In the dim light, she could see a black-clad Raven not more than a few meters behind them. She turned back toward Shears and could see another Raven coming towards them from up head. Both men slowed as they drew near, flanking them. Heart pounding, Cissnei kept her gun trained on Shears as she stepped around to his right so that all three men were in her line of sight.

“Stop!” she demanded loudly. “If you come any closer, his life is forfeit!”

The Ravens seemed to ignore her, instead focusing on Shears and continuing to advance.

Shears erupted in raucous laughter, his face grimacing against the pain in his ribs. “It’s no use,” he said in resignation. Turning his back to Cissnei, he divided his attention between the Raven on his right and the one on his left.

“What do you mean?” Cissnei asked warily, struggling to decide whether to keep her aim on Shears or the Ravens.

“These guys are after me, too,” Shears said through gritted teeth.

“You mean… AVALANCHE has betrayed you?” she questioned skeptically.

“That’s right. It was Fuhito who pushed me down here,” he revealed, glancing back over his shoulder to offer her a slightly apologetic smile.

In unison, the two Ravens took another step towards Shears. He defensively took a step back towards the Turk. Cissnei dared to take her gun off of him then and directed her aim at the Raven on their left.

“If we want to beat these Ravens then we have no other choice but to team up,” she told him.

“Over my dead body!” Shears growled, his voice seething with disdain. “…Still. Beggars can’t be choosers.”

Then he lunged for the man on their right as Cissnei opened fire on the one to their left. Her first shot missed as the man moved unnaturally fast. Her second shot found its mark, dropping him only two feet in front of her. Then she spun on her heel, looking down her gun sight for the second Raven. Despite his injuries, Shears already had the man on the ground incapacitated. The effort had taxed his strength though, as he leaned over with one hand on his knee and the other hugging his torso. He breathed heavily and grimaced as he straightened up.

Knowing he didn't want her concern, Cissnei focused on the dead Ravens instead. She shook her head. “How could he leave his own people behind?” she asked.

“To Fuhito, the Ravens are disposable,” he said, a snarl of disgust wrinkling his nose.

“Disposable? That’s horrible! What kind of person is he?” Cissnei fumed, trying to fathom his callousness towards his own men.

She looked back over at Shears and saw him quickly stoop down to snatch an object from the floor. She saw it in a glimpse. It was an orb of materia, shining brightly in the dim light. At its center, was a pyramid-shaped crystal. Shears shoved it deep in his pocket. When he noticed her watching, he snapped, “It’s some materia I found. It’s none of your business.”

Cissnei shrugged and held up her hands, not wanting to make him feel threatened. All she cared about right now was getting out of the reactor. He could have all the materia he wanted, so long as he got her out of there. With a wave of her gun, she pointed up the walkway with her chin, urging him on. He didn't argue and started forward again. They walked on in more silence. Cissnei's mind kept going over what had just happened, how Fuhito had turned on Shears and his own men. The ruthlessness and lack of loyalty seemed to run deep within AVALANCHE.

“Turning against the Vice President. Leaving you and the Ravens behind down here… What the hell is Elfe thinking?” Cissnei pondered aloud.

“Elfe’s being used by Fuhito,” Shears revealed. A hint of venom laced his voice.

“So, Fuhito is the one behind all this?” Cissnei ventured.

Shears nodded. “His real goal is to destroy all life – to return every living thing to the Planet to stop its decay so that it can live but a little longer.”

“Hold on,” Cissnei said, coming to an actual halt. “That’s just plain insane. Is that even possible?”

Shears turned around to face her. “Seems like,” he told her, his face denoting seriousness. “Elfe’s materia can do it.”

Cissnei regarded him warily. “What materia?” she asked.

“There’s a materia embedded in the back of her hand,” he explained. A sudden twitch jerked his body, and he slumped over, holding his side.

Cissnei rushed forward, reaching a hand towards him. “Are you all right?” she gasped.

Shears straightened up and pulled away from her touch. “It’s none of your concern,” he growled ungratefully.

“Fine,” Cissnei shot back, stepping away from him and crossing her arms. “Then tell me: What’s all this about the materia in Elfe’s hand?”

Shears looked back at her, seeming to mull over the information she sought. Finally coming to a conclusion, he revealed, “That materia I dropped back there. Elfe’s looks just like it.”

Cissnei nodded in understanding. “I’m sure I saw a light come from her hand once.”

Shears nodded too. “I know. Fuhito plans to use it to destroy all life on the Planet.”

“But nothing has happened yet…”

“It hasn’t been activated,” he explained. “Fuhito is trying to find out how.”

Cissnei uncrossed her arms. “We can’t let that happen.”

“No shit,” Shears scoffed, then added more seriously, “There’s no telling what activating the materia might do to Elfe if Fuhito succeeds.”

Cissnei thought back to what had happened on the upper platform. “She collapsed back there, didn’t she?” she asked quietly.

“She’s always had these lapses,” he explained quietly. “But the one just now was worse. Fuhito had a strange look on his face, too.”

“So he has betrayed you,” Cissnei concluded.

“Yeah…” Shears looked away quickly. Letting go of his side, he pulled in a painful breath and started forward again. “I only have one goal right now,” he declared. “And that is to protect Elfe from Fuhito.”

Cissnei followed. “But before that we have to get out of here and fast. Here.” Stepping up beside him, she reached her arm around his broad back. “Lean on my shoulder.”

Shears recoiled from her. “You…”

“I want to help Elfe, too,” Cissnei assured him. “After all, she’s the Chief’s daughter. Besides, things could get ugly if we just leave Fuhito to his own devices.”

Shears looked at her in silence. She could tell he wasn't comfortable with trusting a Turk.

“There was something I heard about once. Materia that can’t be used until it’s combined,” she told him, recalling what he had said about Elfe's materia.

“I see,” he said slowly. “Then this materia might come in handy one day.”

Cissnei smiled. “Right. Now, come on, let’s get going.”

Shears agreed and directed her into the next corridor. It was a ramp leading up. About halfway, he pointed them to a second corridor branching off from it to the right.

“Why do you work for Shinra?” he asked abruptly, breaking the silence. “You Turks should know all about their shady affairs.”

“Of course,” Cissnei admitted without answering the question. “What about you? Why AVALANCHE?”

“My parents were killed by Shinra,” Shears recalled bitterly. “My hatred for Shinra was what kept me alive. A group of bandits took me in and raised me. Still, my hatred wouldn’t go away. All I did was fight. And before I knew it, the gang had grown a hundred men strong, and I was their leader. Everyday we’d be living on the edge. Always going after big marks. I was trying to find… something… Something that would fill the emptiness inside of me. Back then, getting into fights, the pain in my fists… those were the only things that made me feel I was alive… But then… She appeared. Elfe.” He paused to swallow. “My gang and I tried to rough up some of her and Fuhito's men, but she stopped all of us single handedly. Her sword… I couldn’t even follow it. She asked me why I was living as a bandit. I told her it was because I had no other choice, that Shinra had taken everything from me. It was then she told me who she was and that AVALANCHE was seeking to topple the Shinra Company. She invited me to join them and help bring down Shinra. That day… Elfe lit the way for me. That was when I decided that I’d stay by Elfe’s side and support her… No matter what.”

Cissnei listened intently as she helped him up the next flight of stairs, thinking his devotion to Elfe was admirable. The man had been a serious thorn in Shinra's side for some time, but she was beginning to understand his reasons for doing so. Despite being on opposite sides, she was beginning to feel a kind of affinity with him.

A sudden violent shake rattled the inside of the reactor, jarring her from her thoughts. Shears pulled Cissnei close, protectively throwing an arm over her head to shield her from a shower of falling debris. As the tremors settled, he let her go.

“This place is really starting to come down,” she fretted, looking up at the large pieces of debris still dangling precariously above them.

“We need to hurry,” Shears agreed, starting forward. He made it two steps before the pain stopped him again. He held his side and groaned.

“Hey, are you all right?” Cissnei said, putting a hand on his shoulder and bending over to look him in the face. To her surprise, he didn't shove her off this time.

He mumbled something that she couldn't quite make out.

“What?” she asked, leaning closer.

“Behind us,” he repeated through gritted teeth.

Cissnei looked over her shoulder and saw two Ravens scrambling over the wreckage behind them. They were the same men from before. They’d been pursuing them the whole time. She drew her weapon and shot both men as they climbed, sending them tumbling back down the ramp. The platform beneath their feet lurched suddenly, dropping a couple of inches.

“This place won’t hold much longer,” she warned. “We have to hurry.”

She helped Shears forward a couple more steps. Then another Raven came out from a side passage ahead of them. Cissnei raised her gun and fired. A second man followed his comrade.

“How many of them are there?” she cried.

She aimed a shot at him as well, but when she pulled the trigger, only a soft click echoed down the chamber. Another tremor rocked the interior of the reactor as the man started towards them, sending a large steel girder crashing down from overhead. The scream of wrenching metal echoed loudly around them. When the platform settled, the Raven was nowhere to be seen.

Cissnei hurried towards the four-foot-wide steel beam blocking their path. Getting over it would be easy enough for her, but Shears? She turned back for him.

“The entire place is starting to come apart,” he cautioned.

“Then we have to hurry!” Cissnei insisted. Boosting herself up onto the girder, she reached back for Shears.

He ignored her hand and stubbornly pulled himself up onto the girder beside her. Without a word, he swung his legs down on the other side and dropped off. Cissnei followed and watched as he leaned wearily against the beam.

“Come on!” she yelled, taking him by the arm and pulling him forward, not caring if she hurt him more or not.

She led him up one more short flight of stairs. A long hallway opened up at the top just as a new round of violent shaking knocked Cissnei to the ground. Hitting the floor, she curled into a ball and covered her head defensively as a cascade of debris – girders and metal grates – rained down, clattering to the platform around them. A large support column tore away from under the right side of the walkway, tearing it in two and sending the right half spiraling down into the reactor.

“The passage is falling part,” Shears warned. Taking Cissnei by the arm, he pulled her to her feet in a single jerk. “There’s no time. The exit’s just over there,” he told her pointing to the next walkway. She could see the warm glow of daylight. “Forget about me.”

She whirled around to look up at him. “No! It’s just a little further. We’re going to make it.”

Shears shook his head emphatically. “No, we’re not. At this rate neither of us is going to make it.”

“Weren’t you going to save Elfe!?” she scolded him.

“Look at me. I can’t hold out much longer. I won’t make it,” he insisted. He grabbed her shoulders with both hands and looked her straight in the eye. “You have to stop Fuhito’s plan–” He gasped as another wave of pain passed over him, and he released her. “…Please, save Elfe.”

“No!” Cissnei refused, once again pulling his arm across her narrow shoulders and putting one hand around his waist.

“What–”

“Come on!” she cut him off. “Run with everything you’ve got!”

She started forward, dragging him along the first step or two until his own initiative kicked in. Taking his weight off her, he moved forward on his own, matching her step for step. At the end of the passage, the walkway turned right and a short ramp led up to the last catwalk running fifty meters to the exit. Behind them, the passage collapsed as they leaped onto the ramp. Shears stumbled and went down on one knee. Cissnei was immediately at his side, pulling him back up.

“Stand up!” she ordered, screaming at him like a drill sergeant.

The two of them scrambled up the trembling ramp and onto the last walkway. A rectangle of bright daylight wavered at the end of it – their light at the end of the tunnel. As they looked upon it, a horrendous screech pierced the air around them, unleashing a hail of metal fragments and construction rubble.

“Shears, look out!” Cissnei plowed into him from behind, colliding with enough force to send him tumbling several feet down the walkway.

Shears hit the floor hard, the wind knocked out of him. Rolling over, he looked back to where he had been a split second before. He heard Cissnei whimper before he saw her lying underneath a large ventilation pipe. It had pinned her right shoulder to the ground. Ignoring the pain rushing through his own body, he lurched to his feet and sprinted back to her side. With a shout of great effort, he took hold of the end of the pipe and lifted it off her, casting it off the side of the platform. To his relief, she was already trying to get to her feet, although her right arm hung limply at her side.

“Hey! Are you–”

“I'm fine,” she insisted through gritted teeth, accepting his hand up and looking towards the light. “Let’s go.”

Supporting each other, they started forward, trying to run, but mostly limping along. Ten meters from the exit another quake rocked the reactor. Shears grabbed her arm and jerked her back as a hefty support column crashed down across the walkway in front of them, sheering it clean through as it plummeted downward and crashed into more platforms and support beams as it went. The end of the walkway dipped down towards a jagged gap several feet wide separating them from the exit on the other side.

“No! Dammit!” Shears roared. “We were so close!”

Another tremor started up, slowly at first, but rapidly rising in intensity. He felt the platform shaking loose beneath their feet. Moving quickly, he rushed forward and pulled Cissnei dangerously close to the edge.

He leaned in close to her. “I’ll do anything to save her. Cissnei! I'm counting on you!” he shouted over the sound of crashing metal echoing all around them.

“What–” she felt him shove something into the palm of her left hand and force her fingers around it. The next thing she felt was a tight grip on her arm and his other hand on the small of her back.

“Jump!” he screamed in her ear as he thrust her forward.

Cissnei landed hard on the other side of the rendered walkway. Tumbling to a stop, she looked back across the wide expanse at Shears.

“Take care of Elfe!” he ordered her, hands cupped to his mouth, screaming to be heard above the roar of the collapsing reactor.

Then the platform beneath his feet gave way.

“Shears!” Cissnei instinctively stretched her hand out towards him, knowing already that he was beyond her reach.

As he plummeted from view, the walkway beneath her began to buckle as well. With a cry, she summoned the last of her strength and scrambled to her feet. Turning, she sprinted for the exit, squinting her eyes against the brightness of the daylight and the dust filling the air. She heard the wrenching of metal to her left and saw another support beam tipping towards her. Suddenly, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. She dived for the exit, somersaulting beneath the collapsing beam dropping like a guillotine across the doorway.

Tumbling head over heels, she rolled to an ungraceful halt in broad daylight at the top of the reactor. As she laid there, she heard footsteps echoing through the metal platform beneath her. She tried to lift her head. Someone was running towards her.

Reno…?

Then her world went black.

--

[Shinra Conference Room]

Tseng nervously straightened his suit jacket and tightened the tie in his hair before stepping through the open double doors of the conference room. It was his first time meeting with the President alone. President Shinra was seated at his usual place at the head of the long conference table, but rose when he saw the Turk enter.

Tseng tipped his head slightly in greeting. “Sir,” he began reverently before announcing, “We’ve just returned from Corel.”

“You handled the business with Rufus well,” the President commended him, then asked, “How is he?”

“We’re holding him in a hidden room inside our headquarters,” Tseng reported. Chief Verdot had made all the arrangements beforehand, for which Tseng was grateful.

The President nodded solemnly as he studied the table in front of him. “Has the room been properly outfitted?”

Tseng nodded. “No need to worry, sir. The room has been remodeled to suit the Vice President’s needs.”

“Good,” President Shinra said. Tseng saw him swallow nervously. He was worried for his son, whether or not he would admit it. “Tseng… Regarding Rufus’s connection to AVALANCHE and his current confinement… The only ones to know about this business are me and the Turks. None of the executives shall know about this.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng assured him.

“He’s impetuous, that boy,” the President went on with a shake of his head. “He was going to inherit my place someday anyway… Keep him under constant surveillance. Don’t let him pull any more stupid stunts.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng repeated.

“Do you have anything else to report?” the President asked, changing the subject.

“Yes, sir. A single casualty. Cissnei has been rendered unconscious and is in critical condition. She has suffered severe physical trauma. She also underwent extended exposure to trace amounts of mako inside the reactor. How she copes with the effects will depend on her constitution. Regardless, her condition remains uncertain.”

“Then call back the Turk’s secondary division,” the President ordered.

Tseng raised an eyebrow. “The secondary division, sir?” The Turks Special Detachment was had not been in service for many years.

“There are no other options, unless you can find other replacements,” the President insisted, rapping his knuckles absentmindedly on the table. “The gap in the ranks must be filled.”

“Yes, sir,” the Turk acquiesced.

A moment of silence stretched awkwardly between them. Tseng was prepared to take his leave, when the President asked, “Is there anything else?”

Tseng stood silently. He felt the President's eyes on him, waiting for an answer.

“I got a call from Rufus,” the President prompted the Turk, rising from his chair and stepping around the table to face him directly. Tseng still said nothing. “I hear that Verdot has disappeared,” he revealed, sounding none too happy about it.

“Yes, sir,” Tseng confirmed, directing his gaze downward.

“From now on, you will be in charge of the Turks,” President Shinra reminded him. “Don’t forget: The Turks are entrusted with this company’s top classified information. The only kind of retirement a Turk is entitled to comes with a body bag.” He paused to make sure that Tseng was following. When the Turk met his eyes, he continued. “Therefore, I am giving the Turks new orders. Find Verdot. And when you do, kill him.”

He saw a flicker of doubt cross the Turk's eyes, but it was gone in a flash, replaced by resolve. “…Yes, sir,” Tseng finally answered, bowing his head in obedience.

“He knows too much,” insisted the President, justifying his order.

“Yes, sir,” Tseng repeated again.

The President stepped around the Turk, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder as he passed by. “Those are your new orders. Don’t disappoint me,” he warned him.

Removing his hand, the President strode from the conference room, leaving Tseng alone inside. The Turk turned to face the table and leaned on it heavily with both hands. He hung his head with a feeling of defeat, closing his eyes and breathing deeply.

The President wants us to kill Chief Verdot? What in the world should I do… Chief, if only you were here to tell me…

Chapter 44: 18: The Howl That Shook Heaven and Earth, part 1

Notes:

Following the end of the previous chapter, the player Turk (Cissnei in my story) fell into a coma. During this time, not much else happens in the compilation. Zack and Cloud are also comatose in the Shinra Mansion in Nibelheim. About the only thing I can find going on story wise is Tifa's arrival in Midgar as told in Trace of Two Pasts, as well as the destruction of Corel (and Barret's experiences there.)
Getting back to Before Crisis, this chapter will pick up with Cissnei/Player waking up three years after the Corel reactor incident, making it the year 0006 in what is probably late summer/early fall. (For those of you interested in the timeline, Zack and Cloud won't leave Shinra Mansion until December 0006.)

Emma and Balto stood staring down at their comrade as they did every day. Standing watch over the wounded was part of their code of honor. None of them were ever left to suffer alone, even tucked away safe and sound in Shinra's own hospital. The facility was the finest in the world. Everything in the room was white and pristine.

The young woman in the bed appeared to be asleep, and her auburn hair lay in soft waves over her shoulders. Clear tubing ran under each nostril before looping around her ears and trailing off the edge of the bed where it became lost in a tangle of half a dozen other tubes protruding from all parts of her body. Two or three tubes ran from the crook of her right arm alone. A machine beside her bed beeped to the slow steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Cissnei’s nostrils flared slightly with each puff of oxygen delivered to them from the translucent tubing. Long dark eyelashes laid perfectly still against her smooth alabaster cheeks. They hadn't moved in a long time. Her thin pink lips remained pressed in a soft line, not tense nor lax.

The two Turks stood at the foot of her bed. Balto’s arms were crossed. Emma’s fingers absently drummed the foot board. Unnoticed by them, the beeping of the heart rate monitor increased by one bpm, an amount hardly noticeable to the human ear. Emma sighed and looked down at the woman in the bed once more.

Cissnei laid perfectly still. Her pale arms laid on top of the thin white sheet covering her petite form. Her thin delicate fingers laid slightly curled at her sides. The veins on the backs of hands stood out thick and blue beneath her pale skin. The skin on the inside of her wrists and forearms, too, was nearly translucent, and the bright azure hue of her veins could be easily seen snaking back towards her heart.

The Turk's eyes moved back up to her still, peaceful face. Her slack cheeks, while pale, still had a soft pink undertone to them. Her dark lashes quivered against them.

“Did you see that just now?” Emma gasped, grabbing her partner's arm. With her other hand, she gripped the foot board tighter.

“Yeah,” Balto agreed, leaning over the foot of the bed and adjusting the narrow glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. The usually reserved Turk allowed himself a smile. “It was slight, but she definitely moved.”

Emma pushed him gently aside and stepped around to the side of the hospital bed. A short bed rail ran down the side of it. She leaned over it to look into the young woman's face, but didn't dare touch her. Not yet. A shallow wrinkle formed on her pale brow beneath her wispy auburn bangs and disappeared just as quickly. Another quiver shook her eyelashes.

“Heeey!” she snapped in a sing-song voice. “Cissnei!”

“Hey! Keep it down!” Balto warned, politely reminding her that they were in a hospital.

She ignored him. “Cissnei!” she shouted even louder than before.

Cissnei's lips parted softly, and she moaned a low raspy note, “Uuuhhh…” Her throat sounded dry. Slowly, her eyelids slid open, revealing amber irises and large dilated pupils.

“No way… She actually woke up,” came a woman's soft voice.

“I knew it!” she heard a man cheer.

Cissnei inched her eyes around the room until they came to settle on the two Turks standing near the foot of her bed. They were both smiling. The woman had short blond hair and bright blue eyes. The man wore glasses and had a scar on one cheek. Both seemed pleased.

“Hey, there!” Balto said enthusiastically, wiggling his fingers in a short wave.

Cissnei lifted her arms tentatively off the bed. They felt both light and heavy at the same time. Planting the heels of her palms into the firm mattress, she pushed herself up. Emma ran to her side and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. With a careful grip, she helped pull her up and arranged the pillows behind her into a more comfortable position.

Once sitting up, she looked around, moving her head slowly. Her neck felt stiff but not painful. Her eyes moved down to look at her body. Her arms looked so small. Several IV's ran from the crook of her right elbow to a machine stationed next to her hospital bed. It was covered in monitors and small blinking lights. An occasional beep sounded from it. A solid white curtain obstructed her view of the rest of the room, and a pungently strong medicinal smell hung in the air.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her tongue felt so thick and dry. At first, she could get nothing out. She swallowed forcefully and licked her lips before trying again.

“This is…?” Her eyes roamed the room again as she tried to deduce her location.

“The hospital,” Emma explained, speaking slowly as though to a small child. “You managed to make it out of the Corel Reactor alive. But you were seriously injured and fell into a coma.”

“Injured…” Cissnei lifted a hand to her face and gingerly rubbed the space between her eyebrows. That would explain her headache, she thought.

“It’s been three years,” Balto told her. When she only stared at him, he explained again, very slowly, “You’ve been asleep for three years, Cissnei.”

She lowered the hand from her face and looked down at her white hospital gown. Taking a pinch of the thin fabric, she pulled it out from her body, rubbing the material thoughtfully between her fingers. “That long…”

“Everyone’s been taking turns watching over you,” the man explained compassionately. “But we honestly didn’t know if you were ever going to wake up again.”

“It’s truly a miracle,” the woman added in wonder. “You were either only exposed to trace amounts of mako inside the reactor, or it could all be thanks to this materia.”

Cissnei dropped her hold on the gown and watched as the woman plucked a small glowing sphere off of the bedside table next to her. She turned it thoughtfully in her hand before holding it out to her. She reached out for it, and the woman placed it gingerly in her palm. It felt lighter in her hand than she expected. She turned it over and over, caressing its glassy surface with her fingertips. It was a pale translucent color, shifting from clear, to orange, to pink – like a sunset – as she rotated it again and again. A tetrahedral crystal shimmered at its center. Something about it was familiar to her. Her lips turned down in a concentrated frown.

“Reno found it lying next to you on the platform outside the reactor,” Balto explained. “It’s a really unusual materia, isn’t it?” he prodded.

Cissnei sucked in a sharp breath. She remembered it all then, and her eyes shot open wide. She'd gotten the materia from Shears. He had given it to her shortly before throwing her to safety. Thanks to him, she'd made it out… but he hadn't. She remembered watching him fall. She lowered her eyes to the materia. She had made him a promise – a promise to take care of Elfe. She slowly wrapped her fingers around the materia.

She noticed the other Turks watching her. “It was entrusted to me by the man who saved my life,” she told them, speaking softly. She had never been an emotional person, but she thought she felt a tear burning in the corner of her eye.

“Then you’d better take good care of it,” said the woman smiling down at her and placing a soothing hand on her shoulder. She gave it a gentle squeeze.

“How are you feeling?” Emma asked, brushing Cissnei's hair behind her shoulder and rubbing her back. They had unloaded a lot of information on her, and she looked to be slightly in shock from it all.

Cissnei raised her hand once again to her face, sliding her fingertips from her cheek to her temple and back again. “I’m not really sure yet…” she admitted, gently massaging her brow.

“That’s all right,” Emma told her, giving her shoulder another light squeeze. “Just you wait here. I’ll go get the doctor.”

“I’ll inform Tseng and the others,” Balto announced, pulling out his phone as he followed after Emma.

“Emma. Balto,” Cissnei called after them. They stopped to look back at her. “Thank you.”

 

A short time later, the doctor had finished giving her a once over, remarking over and over again how fortunate she was to be awake and alert. When he left, he ushered the others in to see her. Cissnei smiled as Tseng, Rude, and Reno filed into her small hospital room and lined up along the foot of her bed.

“It’s good to see you awake, Cissnei,” Tseng greeted her, offering a welcoming smile. Cissnei smiled back. She couldn’t help but feel that he was somehow different than she remembered. His hair was a little longer; and his eyes looked deeper, and his brow firmer. He seemed weary.

“You made us worry,” Rude scolded, directing her attention away from Tseng.

“Man, your luck’s so bad, it’s scary,” Reno teased good-naturedly.

Cissnei couldn't help but smile at the three men. They had been the ones she was with on that last mission. And there was no one else she would rather be with now. They were more than her colleagues. They were her family. She could feel her smile growing wider the longer she looked at them.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” she told them all, thinking back to the day of the accident.

“Of course,” said Rude with a shrug. “I told you we would.”

Cissnei nodded appreciatively and looked down at the materia still cupped in her hand. Her smile quickly faded. “Tseng, Shears told me all about AVALANCHE while we were in the mako reactor. Fuhito is planning to use Elfe to destroy the world.”

“We know,” Tseng told her matter-of-factly, his smile disappearing.

“Don’t underestimate the Turks’ intelligence network,” Reno reminded her with a wag of his finger.

“However,” Rude cut in. “AVALANCHE has ceased all activity since then.”

Cissnei's gaze shifted to focus on Rude. Her brow wrinkled in confusion. How could that be? She looked to Tseng. “They’ve gone dormant? Then what about Elfe?”

Tseng met her gaze and crossed his arms thoughtfully. “We’re looking for her as well,” he informed her.

“Then she must still be with Fuhito…” Cissnei worried. She was growing anxious and she didn't know why. She felt breathless. “I wonder if it’s really safe to believe that AVALANCHE has stopped operating…”

“We’re keeping a close eye on the situation,” Tseng said, again trying to soothe her concerns as he noted the quickened pace on her heart monitor.

“What about Chief Verdot?” she asked next, her eyebrows shooting up as though she had just stumbled upon a long forgotten idea. “Wasn’t he going to get Elfe back?”

An uncomfortable silence settled over the hospital room. Tseng directed his gaze to the monitors beeping on Cissnei's right. Reno and Rude exchanged knowing glances but didn't include Cissnei in their silent exchange. She looked from one of them to another, awaiting an answer. The longer she waited, the faster her heart beat, as indicated by the instruments in the room.

Reno finally cleared his throat and looked in her direction, but wouldn't meet her eyes. “The Chief is still missing,” he told her solemnly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “We’re looking for him as well.”

He stopped there, but she could tell there was more he wasn't saying. It wasn't like Reno to speak so hesitantly. She continued to wait, the machine to her right beeping faster as her pulse spiked.

Rude fidgeted uncomfortably beside Reno. “…We’ve got orders…” he managed to get out.

“Orders?” Cissnei asked urgently, frustrated with their reluctance. She finally looked to Tseng, drilling him with her eyes, demanding the full story.

“Orders from the President,” he clarified, his gaze still directed fully at the machines beeping at her bedside. Then he took a deep breath before looking her in the eye and finishing, “…Orders to kill Chief Verdot on sight.”

“We’re to kill Chief Verdot!?” she bolted upright in alarm. One of the ports in her arm pulled out with her sudden jerk, but she hardly noticed. She didn't even notice the steadying hand Tseng had put around her arm. This isn't happening, she told herself, messaging her temples. How can we be expected to kill the Chief?

Tseng knelt beside her bed and pulled her hand away from her face. He held it tightly between both of his until it quit shaking. He regretted telling her about the Chief. It was too soon. He had not intended to have this conversation now. She needed to rest.

“Cissnei,” he said her name firmly and waited until she looked at him. “We've yet to locate his whereabouts,” he informed her, attempting to belay her obvious stress. “So don't worry. There are more pressing matters to attend to…”

Chapter 45: 18: The Howl That Shook Heaven and Earth, part 2

[30 October 0006]

[Cosmo Canyon]

The thump-thump-thump of the helicopter's blades appeared to double as it descended among the stony cliffs of the southwestern desert and was assaulted by its own echoes. Reno expertly guided the chopper into a small side canyon south of the village in question. It would be well hidden there. The red rock cliffs rose up like protective golems in all directions as he and Cissnei disembarked and headed north. The sun had just moved past its apex and was in the very early stages of setting. Even so, shadows were already beginning to stretch across some of the deeper canyons.

Reno led the way with Cissnei right behind. As she followed, she watched the bright red ponytail brushing back and forth between his shoulder blades. He must've been growing it out these last three years; it already reached halfway down his back. At first, she'd thought it looked weird on him, but she was getting used to it. She thought she might even like it one day. But for now, it would still take some getting used to seeing on him.

Ahead, a small pile of rocks was strewn across the canyon path. Reno scaled to the top of the mound easily enough and paused at the top to survey the terrain. Cissnei watched his face for any indication of what might be ahead. Seemingly unimpressed, he dropped to one knee and reached down to give her a hand up.

“We’ll be there once we’ve climbed these rocks,” he told her encouragingly.

She shot him an appreciative smile as she took his hand. He had been so protective of her ever since they left Midgar, although he tried not to let it show. Even Tseng had been hesitant to let her go, but she had insisted. Her recovery had been a surprisingly speedy one, and she was tired of taking it easy. Although, after this short hike, she was just plain tired. Still, she did her best to pull herself up the rock pile, relying on Reno's strength as little as possible.

“Doin' alright?” he asked, putting out a hand to steady her as she swayed slightly on the top of the rocks.

She nodded and looked up the path winding through a boulder strewn cliff side. She adjusted the strap holding a long rifle swung over her shoulder and absently massaged the place it had been rubbing against the side of her neck.

“So my first comeback job is big-game hunting?” she complained, patting a cloud of red dust from her black trousers. “Have the higher ups decided I’m not ready for the serious work yet?”

“You’ve been a vegetable for three years,” Reno teased her with a wink. “This is the perfect job to get you back on your feet.”

She brushed his teasing aside with a condescending smile and tried to focus on the mission. “So, our target is an endangered animal, right?” she recalled.

Reno jumped down from the rock pile and offered her a hand down as he said, “Professor Hojo requested it.”

Cissnei took the hand he offered her and dropped down beside him. A small frown formed on her lips. “I wonder what he wants it for?” she mused.

Reno made a one shoulder shrug. “Who knows,” he drawled lazily, turning back up the path. “Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter to us. We're just here to carry out the missions we’re given. That's the Turks' job.”

“You think we’re up to it?” she asked jokingly, poking an elbow in his ribs.

“No doubt about it,” he said, flashing her an encouraging smile and throwing an arm around her shoulders. The simple act was enough to throw her off balance, and she ended up leaning into him for support. “The target belongs to a tribe of Planet protectors. Intel states this thing looks like a tiger. Word is that it lives somewhere in the area, but not even the locals see them very often.”

“How are we supposed to find it then?” she asked, forcefully removing his arm from her shoulders and giving him a weak shove. “Are we just going to stake the area out?” She shielded her eyes as she scanned the canyon walls above them.

Reno shook his head. “We don’t have time to be having tea parties up here. There’s a festival that’s celebrated only once every fifty years coming up. It seems our target will show up for the party.”

Cissnei nearly sighed with relief at the good news. “I see. So we’ll have an easy time bagging the mark if we look for it at the festival then.”

“Not quite. There’s going to be a big crowd there. We want to capture the target without causing an uproar,” he warned.

Ahead of them, a cave opened up in the canyon wall; otherwise it was a dead end. With no other alternatives, Reno headed for the dark opening, waving for Cissnei to follow. He paused at the entrance and peered inside cautiously. The last thing he wanted to do was to stick his head in a tiger's mouth. Cissnei took up a position on the other side of the entrance, rifle clutched and ready by her chest. Reno gave her a slight nod and rolled around the corner to enter the cave. Cissnei followed.

The interior wasn't nearly as dark as they had expected. The cave was well lit by torch sconces spaced several meters apart. The shape of the cave also indicated that it was perhaps man-made. The walls were flat and vertical, meeting a flat ceiling and smooth floor underfoot. It hardly appeared to be an animal den. Cissnei relaxed the grip on her rifle.

“Hey,” Reno whispered sharply and snapped his fingers, asking for her attention. He pointed towards an alcove off the side of the main tunnel. “Did you see that?”

Cissnei followed his hand. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she caught a glimpse of orange fur peeking around the corner.

“Yeah!” she confirmed.

“Looks like a tiger…” Reno said, his voice hinting a smile. “That’s got to be it, yeah?”

“Yes! I’m sure of it,” she agreed.

Reno signaled her forward. “Then let’s get it,” he ordered her.

Cissnei stepped past him and loaded a tranquilizer dart into the rifle chamber. She lifted the stock to her right shoulder and aimed down the sight. The animal was walking forward slowly with its nose on the ground, sniffing for some unseen treasure. She positioned the cross hairs along its neck and squeezed the trigger. The dart left the gun with a soft whooshing sound and embedded in the animal's neck. The tiger startled and galloped a few meters up the tunnel before the tranquilizer took effect. Its gallop slowed to a weaving trot then a staggering walk, before collapsing.

“Nice shot,” Reno said offering her a high-five and a smile, before heading over to examine their catch. He cautiously nudged the animal with his foot. It was out cold. “All right, mission complete,” he said triumphantly, pulling out his phone. “I’ll just send some pictures back to headquarters. We should be getting confirmation from Tseng in a moment.”

He sent the photos and returned the phone to his breast pocket. Cissnei nudged him in the arm.

“Reno! Look over there!” She pointed up the tunnel. A pack of four more tigers were milling about. Two were eying them curiously with ears up and heads cocked.

“Hey, hey,” Reno mused. “There’s a whole pack of them.”

“I thought they were supposed to be endangered,” Cissnei whispered harshly.

The animals appeared to be skittish and bolted in the opposite direction.

“Who knows,” Reno said with a shrug as his phone beeped. He pulled it out and put it on speaker as he held it out between himself and Cissnei.

“It’s me,” said Tseng. “Professor Hojo has had a look at the pictures you sent over.”

“What did he say?” Cissnei asked eagerly.

“This is not what we’re looking for,” he reported.

“What do you mean ‘not what we’re looking for’?” Reno moaned, disappointed that the mission wasn't completed yet after all.

“We’ve received some new information on the target,” Tseng revealed. “There’s a flame burning at the end of its tail. And its most remarkable trait – it’s capable of human speech.”

“A talking animal?” Cissnei gasped, trying to imagine such a thing.

--

The elderly man adjusted the small spectacles perched on the end of his nose as he studied the stars and planets illuminating the dome above him. The vastness of the cosmos never ceased to amaze him. A hand wiggled free from his voluminous blue robe and stroked his bushy gray mustache. He heard the door open behind him and turned to greet his expected guest with his typical, “Ho ho hoooo.”

The man was approached slowly by a large animal with a feline appearance. Thick red-orange fur covered a long sleek body that ended with a lively, smokeless flame dancing at the end of its tail. Thick pads on its paws muted its approach across the tiled floor; and a collection of beads and rings interwoven in its short mane clinked and jingled in cadence to its pace. Its golden yellow eyes locked onto the old man as it came to a stop a few feet from him.

“Grandfather Bugenhagen, what was it that you wanted?” it asked him in a perfectly articulated human tongue.

“Ah, Nanaki. You’re here,” the man sighed in relief. “You do realize that this year is a very important one, don’t you?”

The beast named Nanaki lowered its eyes in a show of discomfort. So this was what Bugenhagan had called him for. The reminder was hardly necessary. It was all he seemed able to think about these last few days. A knot formed deep in his gut, pulling tighter with each passing day. Looking away from the elderly man, he stammered, “Y-Yeah.”

It was impossible for Bugenhagen to not notice the animal's shaky reply. One of his bushy eyebrows arched up his deeply wrinkled forehead as he studied Nanaki carefully. He had not expected such trepidation from him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked his friend, again adjusting the glasses on the end of his nose. “You don’t seem so enthusiastic. Aren’t you feeling well?”

“N-No, I’m fine…” Nanaki insisted nervously as he tried to put his fear into words. “This is the time we observe the rite held every fifty years to appease the Planet.”

Bugenhagen nodded approvingly. “That’s right. Only those of your tribe can perform it. All the villagers, who care so much for the Planet, are looking forward to it.”

“…But I…” Nanaki protested. “I… I don’t want to take part in the rite.”

Following his confession, he bolted up and fled the room, unable to face Bugenhagen any longer. The man wouldn't understand him, understand his fears. He couldn't remain there. He just couldn't.

Bugenhagen watched his friend leave but didn't try to stop him. He only shook his head in amusement. “My, my. What a handful,” he chuckled before his voice took a more somber turn, “There are only two of your tribe left in the village, Nanaki. This important rite requires both a male and a female… We won’t be able to carry it out at this rate… The traditions of this village mustn’t die out like this…”

--

Reno finished checking the GPS on his phone and turned back to Cissnei. “Cosmo Canyon lies beyond this cave,” he announced.

“I wonder how far this cave goes?” Cissnei asked, peering down the multiple passages branching off from the chamber they were in.

“Quite some ways, probably,” Reno mused as he put his phone away. “I want to get this done quickly. You think you can keep up?”

“Of course!” Cissnei blurted, sounding insulted.

“All right, you can tag along,” he invited, a sly smile curling his lips. “But your convalescent pace better not slow me down.”

Cissnei narrowed her eyes at him and brushed by to take the lead. “That won't be a problem.”

Reno smiled at her enthusiasm and go-get-em attitude. He was happy to see she hadn't lost her spark. He had to admit: it was good to have her back. He'd spent the last three years worrying whether he would ever get to have another conversation with her, much less go on another mission together. And it wasn't just him. They'd all spent sleepless days at her bedside in that hospital. Before leaving on this mission, he had been given no shortage of lectures and warnings from the others on keeping her safe.

Checking the GPS occasionally, he directed her to stick to the main passage. The tunnel ran for about a quarter mile before opening back up into the canyons. A short rise led to the canyon brim, and at the top was the village of Cosmo Canyon. The sun had sunk further in the west, bathing the small town in a rich red hue.

The village was quaint, consisting of both primitive huts and modern log structures. Red dirt paths connected everything. Wooden ladders and staircases led to higher-leveled abodes built around the surrounding cliffs. At one end of the town a large structure resembling an observatory had a tall telescope directed skyward.

“We’re here,” Reno announced triumphantly.

Cissnei settled the rifle across her back so as not to appear too threatening. The village seemed relatively quiet though. In fact, she didn't see anybody, human or beast.

“Where should be we start looking?” she asked as her eyes roamed the square. “We don’t have any clues.”

Reno didn't answer her right away. When she looked at him, she saw he was gazing up towards a small overhang on the edge of the village. She couldn't read his face. Had he seen something up there. She waited patiently for him to answer.

Reno took a deep breath. “There’s somewhere we have to go first,” he declared suddenly.

Cissnei cast him a curious glance. “Where’s that?”

Reno shrugged and turned abruptly to the left. “Tseng asked me to. This way.”

Reno took off with long strides towards an uphill route. Cissnei turned and went after him. “Reno! Wait up.”

“Hurry up, cripple,” he shouted playfully back at her.

“Don't call me that!” Cissnei growled. “I can walk just as good as you!”

She caught up with him in a matter of seconds and followed him to the door of a large domed structure overlooking the village. Without hesitation and without knocking, Reno pulled the door open and chivalrously held it as he ushered Cissnei through first. Inside, she gazed up at an illuminated ceiling in wonder. A masterpiece of the galaxy shone down from above. She had never seen anything like it.

“Ho ho hoooo.” A warm laugh drew her attention to a small elderly man watching them from across the room. “Those suits… You must be from the Turks,” he mused. He sounded neither alarmed, nor welcoming. He just… was.

“That’s us,” Reno confirmed walking briskly towards the man. The way he said it was like a teacher rewarding a small child for producing the correct answer, only it sounded degrading coming from a man like Reno.

“What can I do for you?” Bugenhagen asked, not appearing the least bit bothered by Reno's brusqueness. He folded his hands patiently in his lap while a twinkle lit in his eyes. “You’re not here to sell me something, are you?”

“We’re looking for someone,” Reno announced warily, ignoring the man's facetiousness and crossing his arms to show his impatience.

Bugenhagen's playful nature faded as his took on a more serious tone. He nodded slowly. “…I suppose you mean Veld?” he asked them.

Cissnei's mouth dropped open in surprise. She looked at Reno, who didn't appear to be unnerved at all by his precognition.

Bugenhagen chuckled good-naturedly, still nodding. “He did indeed come through here,” he reassured the Turks.

“Chief Verdot did!?” Cissnei blurted, finally finding her voice and seeking confirmation of such big news. She took a step forward and placed a hand on Reno's arm to steady herself.

“He had something to ask regarding his daughter,” revealed Bugenhagen in response.

“About Elfe?” she gasped. “Why?”

“This old man’s the word on the studies of planet life,” Reno told her quickly, sounding more skeptical than impressed. “He knows everything there is to know about the Planet.”

“Do you know something about the special materia embedded in Elfe’s hand? Fuhito’s trying to use it,” Cissnei warned.

“Ho ho hooo,” the elderly man chuckled again. “That materia will call forth a most extraordinary summon.”

“An extraordinary summon?” Cissnei repeated.

“What do you mean by ‘extraordinary’?” Reno asked over her.

Bugenhagen looked at them both with serious eyes, no laughter this time. He told them, “It would scorch the Planet’s surface of all life.”

Reno whistled quietly. “Sounds pretty dangerous to me.”

“So that’s what Fuhito wants,” Cissnei concluded. “He’s planning to eradicate all life on the Planet with that summon.”

“But why hasn’t he already summoned it then?” Reno mused, rubbing the back of his neck. Cissnei recognized his nervous tick.

“He doesn’t appear to have all the required materia yet,” the old man told them.

Reno dropped his hand. “Then we’re safe for now,” he said with some measure of relief.

“I daresay not,” Bugenhagen scolded loudly, making Cissnei jump. “As long as that materia remains in Elfe’s body, it will continue to chip away at her life. Because the materia is incomplete, it feeds on her life force to sustain itself.”

“In other words: she’s a walking energy source,” Reno reasoned.

Bugenhagen nodded. “That’s right. Verdot is looking for a way to extract the materia from his daughter.”

Reno crossed his arms again, looking nervous and impatient. He did not like dealing with things he didn't understand. “Do you know where we can find the Chief?” he asked hopefully.

“That I do not,” the man replied, shaking his head slowly. “But Verdot is searching for Elfe. If you find her, you’ll find him.

A moment of silence ensued.

“All right, then,” Reno finally said, sounding slightly disappointed. He looked over at his partner then tilted his head towards the door. “Cissnei, let's get going,”

Cissnei followed him speechless out of Bugenhagen's planetarium without so much as giving the old man a goodbye or thank you. Reno walked quickly back down the path that would return them to the village. She had to hurry to keep up.

“Hey,” she took him by the arm to get his attention. “Why didn’t you ask him about the target?”

“Because that’s a top secret mission,” Reno replied. Turning to her, he gave her a wink and held a finger playfully to his lips as though he was sharing some great secret.

She just rolled her eyes at him, and they walked on a little farther in silence. Cissnei replayed their conversation about Verdot and Elfe over again in her mind. If what Bugenhagen had told them about the summon was true, the stakes were now much higher than she had ever imagined. They simply had to find the Chief and Elfe. As long as she was with Fuhito, the entire Planet was in danger. She should've asked the elder about the mateira she’d gotten from Shears. Maybe they could go back. She looked over at Reno.

“Anyway–”

“Hey!” Reno cut her off, holding out his arm to stop her advance. He pointed down the path ahead of them towards the village square. “That’s–!”

Her eyes followed his prompting, and she saw two men in familiar black fatigues running through the square. A red tiger was leading them.

“AVALANCHE!?” she gasped. “But I thought they were done?”

It didn't take long for the Ravens to notice the Turks as well. One of the men turned his head in their direction and came to a halt. He reached over and grabbed his comrade's arm, pulling him to a stop. He pointed towards the Turks watching them from the hillside. The second man nodded, a mirthless smile lifting his upper lip. Together, they started towards the Turks.

“Here they come!” Cissnei warned, pulling the rifle over her shoulder and pumping a bullet into the chamber.

“Hold it!” Reno ordered, placing a hand on the barrel of her rifle and forcing it downward. “We can’t cause any commotion while in the village. Let’s lure them out into the canyons.”

“You're right,” she conceded, relaxing her grip on the rifle and letting Reno push it down, “We can take them out down there.”

“That’s the plan,” he agreed with a smile. He cocked his head in the direction of the canyons. “Let’s go.”

The Turks took off towards the canyons south of the village with the Ravens in pursuit.

--

Nanaki glanced back over his shoulder to see his pursuers change course. Cautiously, he made his way over to the edge of the canyon and watched the humans pursue each other.

“What was that all about?” he muttered to himself, the flame on his tail flickering back and forth nervously. With an anxious shake of his head, he started into the canyon and disappeared among the red rocks.

--

Cissnei and Reno came to a fork in the canyon.

“Let’s split up,” Reno ordered without slowing down. He took the right canyon. “We’ll meet up back in town once we’re done,” he shouted back over his shoulder.

Cissnei took the left canyon. She looked back and saw that the two Ravens who had been pursuing them split up as well. Good, she thought. I can take one of these guys, no problem. Returning her attention forward, she saw two more Ravens enter the canyon ahead of her. Raising her rifle, she shot one of the men ahead of her, but they were approaching quickly. Without time to take a second shot, she ducked right and darted up another side canyon. It ran only about fifty meters before coming to an abrupt dead end. Massive sheer red cliffs rose up around her on all sides. There would be no climbing out.

As she slid to a halt, she heard an unnerving laugh too close behind her. She whirled around and was dismayed to be face to face with a Raven, close enough to be within arm's reach. She staggered backwards, as the man's hands went for her throat. His hands clamped down on her and pressed her up roughly against the stone wall. She could feel the rough gritty texture of the sandstone scrape between her shoulder blades. A sinister smile twisted the man's face as she struggled to breathe through the vice-like grip constricting her windpipe. Remembering the rifle in her hands, she brought it up swiftly under the man's arms. His grip held steady around her neck. She swung up again, but it made no difference. Dropping the barrel, she twirled the end downward before cutting it straight up into the man's crotch. He released her. She hit him with the barrel again then brought the stock up and cracked it against his temple. The man crumbled to the ground with a groan.

His two companions stood behind him and assaulted her, undaunted by their captain's demise. Lifting the barrel, she placed a bullet in one man's chest at pointblank range. The bullet past straight through his body, sending a spray of blood out his back to cover his comrade. The second man hardly flinched and lunged in closer, swinging a stiff punch at Cissnei's face. Dropping to one knee, she dodged the blow and rammed the butt of the rifle into the side of the man's knee. His kneecap twisted unnaturally to the inside of his leg as he let out a painful scream. He fell to the ground as Cissnei rose to her feet. Without hesitation, she aimed down the barrel and put a bullet in his chest. The man's scream fell silent.

Panting for breath, Cissnei collapsed to the canyon floor and leaned back against the rough rock wall rising up tall behind her. So much for an easy first mission, she thought, wiping a gloved hand over her sweating brow. What is AVALANCHE doing here? She had to call it in. Willing her breath to calm, she pulled out her phone.

“Tseng, we’ve got trouble,” she announced. She took another breath. “We’ve encountered AVALANCHE operatives here in Cosmo Canyon.”

“Just as I suspected,” he lamented, not sounding too surprised. “It seems they’re still operational then.”

“On top of that, they’re all Ravens,” she added dismally. “And they’re far stronger than they were before.” She eyed one warily, remembering that they were likely to revive soon. She closed her eyes and rested her head back against the cliff.

“Understood,” Tseng agreed. “We’ll start looking into possible countermeasures. In the meantime, focus on the mission.”

“Yes, sir.” Cissnei got up and dusted herself off. She looked up at the high canyon walls around her, unsure what she was looking for or why she did it. The shadows were getting long. It wouldn't be much longer before night came in the canyons. Taking a deep breath, she resettled the rifle strap over her shoulder and set off for the village, hoping Reno would be there waiting for her.

Chapter 46: 18: The Howl That Shook Heaven and Earth, part 3

Nanaki sat warily on the edge of the canyon, alternating his gaze between the red sky and the red rocks. The flame on his tail flickered, mimicking the uncertainty ravaging his mind. His ears twitched back, detecting the soft padding of paws behind him.

“Nanaki, what are you doing out here?”

Without looking, he knew who approached him and greeted her by name only. “Deneh…”

The lioness stopped behind him. Like Nanaki, she had a small dancing flame on the end of her tail. Delicate feline features graced her body. Her fur, though lighter in color, still had a hint of red to it. A couple of earrings pierced her left ear and sparkled in the sunlight, much like her cerulean hued eyes. Those eyes lingered on him now, settling on his shoulder blades behind which his face was hidden.

“I’ve been looking for you.” She sounded concerned. “The rite is about to start, you know.”

“I don’t want to do it,” Nanaki replied a little too quickly, still not looking at her.

Deneh's face drew tight in shock. “What are you saying? Everyone in the village is looking forward to it!”

“But…” Nanaki hesitated, “…after the ritual, you’ll have to be confined to the altar for the next three years.” His voice sounded soft and weak, barely speaking above a whisper.

Deneh cocked her head to the side, a look of disbelief on her feline face. “It’s to pray for the appeasement of the Planet,” she said matter-of-factly, not seeming to share his concerns. “And while I’m praying, you will protect the village as a warrior.”

Nanaki stared down into the canyon, saying nothing.

“It’s the duty of our tribe,” Deneh reminded him sternly, anger rising in her voice.

“…Aren’t you scared?” he asked, finally turning his head to look at her. Her blue eyes drilled him with such a look that he scarce could find his breath. He wished he had said nothing at all.

“You mean you are?” she nearly shouted, disappointment and astonishment thick in her voice. “Scared of becoming a warrior and protecting the Canyon?”

“N-No,” he stammered quickly. “That’s not it. There’s no way you could understand how I feel.” With a growl, he whirled away from her and leaped to the top of a nearby boulder

“Wait!” Deneh called after him, stopping his retreat. “We’re the only ones who can perform the rite. It is an important birthright we must uphold and preserve.”

“Even so…” Nanaki looked back down at her momentarily before shaking his head. “No, there’s no way I’m taking part in it!” he shouted angrily and took off up the side of the cliff, disappearing over the ledge above.

“Why!?” Deneh screamed after him angrily, her blue eyes flashing. “Nanaki, you coward!”

--

For the third time in as many hours, Bugenhagen's door opened to admit a guest. He kept his back to the visitor as he heard the man's heavy boots clomp across the floor towards him, undoubtedly leaving a trail of red dirt across the cleanly swept floor behind him. But Bugenhagan didn't mind. The man's visit was hardly unexpected.

“Ho ho hoooo. There have been an awful lot of visitors today,” he said, turning to greet his most recent guest.

“It has been a while, honored Bugenhagen,” Fuhito greeted him, bowing his head in feigned respect before adding, “Thank you for providing me with that incorrect information the other day.”

“Oh, I did?” Bugenhagen lamented, resetting the glasses higher up on his nose. “You tend to forget things at my age.”

“Surely you jest,” chided Fuhito condescendingly, not buying into the act. “You are the foremost authority on the studies of planet life. Thus, you should be happy to share of your wisdom for the Planet’s sake.”

“You mean how to use the summon materia in Elfe’s hand?” Bugenhagan asked him with a raised brow. “I have no idea.”

With an unamused sigh, Fuhito clasped his hands behind his back. “At this rate, the Planet will continue its inevitable decline towards unseemly death,” he admitted in frustration, turning away from the old man to study the dome around them. He paced a slow circuit of the planetarium, his half-lowered eyelids betraying his lack of interest in the whole setup. It's not like he hadn't seen it all before. “Therefore, everything must be returned to the Lifestream,” he declared.

“Even doing that won’t change anything,” cautioned Bugenhagen, “Everything that has a form must one day perish. We humans should consign ourselves to the natural course of life.”

Fuhito sighed dramatically and turned back to face his old mentor. “Should I assume that you will not be cooperating? In that case, I shall have to extract that knowledge from you forcibly.”

“Fuhito… What is it you’re really after?” Bugenhagen asked, for the first time feeling unnerved by the young man's presence.

A mirthless grin spread across Fuhito's face as he turned away from the old man. He saw the uncertainty in those old eyes. Good. At least now he had the fool's attention. Now to get what he wanted. He clasped his hands behind his back and paced over to a small window overlooking the village. “The rite will begin soon. Nanaki or Deneh… Without either of them, the rite cannot be performed…” He let his voice trail off, allowing for the old man to fill in the blanks for himself. How creative was the old man's mind these days, he wondered.

“You wouldn’t…”

Fuhito cast the man a knowing glance and laughed threateningly as he headed for the door without another word on the matter. Better to let the old man stew over the possibilities than to spell it out for him. His threat had been clear enough. Without a second look, he left Bugenhagen as suddenly as he had entered.

The elder watched his old apprentice leave, his heart growing heavy. What had become of the boy that had once sat so eagerly at his feet, hungry for knowledge? What had become of the boy who was once so full of potential? Seeing him now, talking like this, nearly crushed his spirit. How had his star pupil been reduced to such baseness? He looked longing at the empty doorway after him, his eyes filled to the brim with sadness and disappointment. Had he failed the boy? Was it his fault? There was so much that Fuhito did not understand.

“How futile…” he lamented. “Every living thing moves according to the will of the Planet. Whether we live or die is for it to know. Maybe it is also inevitable that you are not able to activate Elfe’s materia. Perhaps the Planet still has some use for us? I wonder… Which I should probably look into. It truly has been a while since I last had something to ponder.”

--

Cissnei started the trek back through the canyons towards the village. She knew she should hurry. Reno would worry if she took too long, but she didn't have the strength to hurry at the moment. She just needed to walk and rest. Five minutes later, she reached the main canyon again. She adjusted the rifle strap. It was beginning to chafe the top of her shoulder.

As she did so, she looked up the canyon. Movement caught her eye, and she pulled back quickly behind an outcropping of sandstone. Peering carefully around the rock, she saw a large feline-like animal wandering the canyon. It was slightly larger than the tiger they had taken down in the cave. It swished its tail. There! Cissnei blinked and looked again. There was definitely a flame flickering at the end of its tail. That had to be what she was looking for. And if it was supposed to be able to speak, perhaps she could talk it into cooperation. Slowly, she stepped out from around the rocks, keeping one hand against the rough stone for balance as she placed each foot down gently one after the other.

Hearing the crunch of gravel behind her, Deneh froze and swiveled her ears back to listen.

“Here kitty, kitty!”

Deneh whirled around to face the human calling to her. Her keen eyes took in Cissnei's appearance. Auburn hair. Amber eyes. Black suit. Rifle. She was not one of the villagers. She didn't recognize her, nor was she comfortable with the looks of her. Ducking her head, she turned and ran fearfully up the canyon.

“Wait!” Cissnei yelled after her and started off in pursuit, her tiredness forgotten.

Small puffs of dust kicked up by the pads of Deneh's feet formed a faint contrail behind her as she led Cissnei further up the canyon. Her heart beat wildly, more from fear than the physical exertion of the short jaunt. She made for a small opening in the side of the canyon wall. Just inside the entrance, she crouched in the darkness, waiting to see if the human would follow.

“Got you.”

Deneh startled from her hiding place as a man dressed in black, carrying a weighted net, stood staring at her, backlit by torchlight. In desperation, she spun back towards the entrance of the cave, but stopped short as the other human's form filled the space. Panicked, she turned back yet again and darted past the man, ducking under the net as he swung it in her direction. She felt the edge of it land across her tail but kept running.

“Hey!”

She heard shouting behind her, followed by a loud gunshot. She flinched and flattened her ears as the unnerving sound echoed through the tunnel all around her. She wondered who these people could possibly be and why they were killing each other. It frightened her terribly. She had to get away. She hadn't gone far when she heard the woman's footsteps start up again behind her. She ran faster.

--

Nanaki reached the top of the canyon wall and paced along the rim, head and tail hanging. He sighed heavily. I’m not going through with the rite, he told himself, Deneh just doesn’t understand how I feel… I don’t even understand how I feel…

Movement in the canyon below caught his eye. Toeing the ledge, he peered down into the purple shadows creeping across the canyon floor. He saw Deneh shoot out of the cave on the south side of the canyon. Even from his perch at the top of the cliff, he could see the fear in her strained face and the tension in her stride. Behind her, a woman in a suit emerged from the cave, holding a rifle across her chest. Deneh entered a tunnel in the canyon wall directly below him. The woman followed.

As the two of them disappeared from his sight, Nanaki backed away from the ledge. What had he just seen? He shook his head from left to right, sending the charms in his mane clinking together. He had to think. Strangers were chasing Deneh. Would she be all right? What should he do?He began pacing the ledge nervously, more questions racing through his mind. What would happen if they caught her? Would they take her away? Would he ever see her again? No! He didn’t want that!

His breathing intensified. In his panic, he was hyperventilating. Now his fears about the rite were beginning to make sense to him. The one thing he hadn't been wanting to admit was the truth. It was all too clear to him now; he couldn't lie to himself any longer. He didn’t want to be parted from Deneh. That was why he didn’t want to go through with the right. And now she was in danger and he could lose her anyway. He had to act.

With heart pounding and mind reeling, he spun away from the rim of the canyon and bolted.

--

Cissnei entered the tunnel closely behind the target. She slowed her pace just enough to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light of the interior. Willing her breathing to still, she strained to listen. Up ahead she saw the telltale glow of the animal's tail. It was still running. She started after it again. The tunnel seemed to be running uphill, scaling the height of the canyon. At the top, red light flooded the tunnel, and she emerged facing a burning crimson sunset. Her target stood pacing the edge of the cliff ahead of her, peering wistfully over the ledge. It appeared to be trapped. Turning to face her, it slunk down to its belly with its ears turned out to the side, appearing more fearful than aggressive.Cissnei slung the rifle back over her shoulder and held a hand out towards the frightened animal.

“Don’t be scared,” she cooed gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slowly, she took a couple of cautious steps toward it, hand outstretched. The lioness cowered closer to the edge, sending a cascade of loose gravel into the canyon far below. The falling stones cast an eerie echo up the cliffs behind her.

“There, there. Come over here now,” Cissnei sang, crouching down to show she meant no threat.

“S-stay back!” Deneh pleaded, her voice panting and hoarse.

Hearing the animal speak for the first time, Cissnei paused in her advance. Human speech sounded so strange coming from a beast. It didn't seem right to treat it like an animal any more, but she had no choice. She had to take it back with her.

“It’s all right,” she assured her, feeling guilty for lying. “I don’t mean you any harm.” She took another step towards her.

“Stop!”

A streak of brilliant red flashed between Cissnei and the target, as Nanaki planted himself in front of Deneh. He crouched threateningly facing the Turk. His tail swished in agitation, the flame at its tip leaving a bright afterimage in its wake. He bared his teeth, snarling menacingly. His sudden appearance and threatening stance startled the Turk, and she fell back on her seat, her arm raised before her in defense, her rifle apparently forgotten.

“Another one!?” she muttered to herself in a whisper.

“Keep your hands off Deneh,” the second tiger snarled, the hair on its neck bristling. He dared a step towards the frightened Turk. “We have an important rite to carry out.”

“Nanaki! You’re really going to do it!?” Deneh exclaimed behind him, her frightened voice still no more than a harsh whisper.

“Of course!” Nanaki replied, keeping his golden eyes trained on Cissnei. “I’m not the coward you think I am.”

“You’re no coward, Nanaki!” Deneh insisted, slinking up beside him and rubbing her cheek against his shoulder.

“Deneh, you get away,” he ordered her sternly, ignoring her declaration. “I’ll take care of things here.”

“But… This human looks strong,” she protested worriedly.

“Don’t worry. I’m a warrior fighting to protect the Canyon!” he announced with a deep guttural growl. He took another step towards Cissnei as she backed away from him.

Deneh did as she was told and scampered a few meters away before looking back at Nanaki with concerned eyes. Then, tucking her tail, she ran.

Cissnei crawled back on her hands and heels, scooting her bottom across the ground, and scrambling to put some distance between herself and the enraged animal.

“Calm down,” she pleaded with him. “I don’t want to fight you!”

“Silence!” Nanaki snapped, baring his teeth once more. “We’re not going anywhere! You’re not taking us from our home!”

He lunged at her then, jaws wide open. Raising the rifle crosswise over her body, she deflected him. Falling onto her back, she thrust him over her as she somersaulted into a crouch. Nanaki twisted in the air and landed on his feet. The moment his feet hit the dirt, he propelled himself towards her again with claws outstretched. Reacting instinctively, Cissnei raised the rifle to her shoulder and fired at the charging beast. In her haste, she had forgotten to load a tranquilizer dart, and cringed as a lethal sized bullet blasted from the barrel towards the endangered animal. Nanaki yelped and was knocked off course as the slug ripped across his right shoulder. With trembling hands, Cissnei quickly loaded a dart into the rifle's empty chamber and fired at him again. The dart sunk into his other shoulder. Wincing, Nanaki staggered back a step, but didn't go down. Cissnei realized then that the tranquilizer wouldn't be strong enough to knock him out completely. She jumped to her feet and reached in her pack for another dart.

Nanaki stood weaving unsteadily on his feet, baring his teeth in an angry snarl. “It’s not over yet!” he threatened. “I won’t let myself be defeated! I still have the rite to carry out!”

Then he toppled over before she loaded the second dart. He was still awake, but harmless now. He glared up at her, his golden eyes flashing in the setting sun. A snarl lifted his black lips, exposing vicious fangs. Cissnei stood staring down at him through the sights of her rifle, trying to decide whether or not to administer the second dose of tranquilizer.

“Great job, Cissnei.”

She dared a glance over her shoulder towards the tunnel and saw Reno striding towards them. He must’ve heard the gunshot.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, lowering the rifle. “Yeah, I did.”

Nanaki's eyes drifted lazily from the female Turk to the male. He hadn't liked the looks of the woman, and the sight of the man made him even more uncomfortable. At least in the woman's eyes, he had seen hesitation and even mercy. The blue eyed stare of the man harbored nothing but cold professionalism. Still, Nanaki could only lay there growling as Reno studied him from a safe distance.

“All right,” Reno drawled, clapping his hands together. “Let’s load him up and go home.” He started towards the creature. Nanaki's hair bristled on his neck as he tried to rise, but his legs just wouldn't cooperate.

“Reno, wait,” Cissnei said pleadingly, reaching out to take him by the arm.

He stopped and looked back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“This guy's supposed to take part in an important rite,” she explained, looking down at the animal compassionately. “Can’t we put off bringing him back until it’s over?”

“You going soft on me?” Reno said teasingly, chucking her lightly under the chin. He grinned at her as she jerked her face away and wiped the back of her hand across her sullied chin. “Fine…” he conceded. “But if he gets away, it’s your ass that’s gonna get hailed in.”

“Thanks, Reno,” she said, sounding truly relieved as she turned back to look down at the animal.

“No problem,” said Reno cheerfully. “This rite only comes around once every fifty years, right? Kind of a once in a lifetime thing. It’s something worth watching.”

Cissnei slipped the rifle strap over her head and handed it to Reno before kneeling beside the wounded animal. Seeing what she was doing, Reno instinctively reached a hand after her. She was making him nervous. His mind screamed for him to snatch her back to safety, but he knew he was only being overcautious. Still, he kept his finger on the trigger in case the animal should turn on her kindness.

“What's your name?” Cissnei asked the animal.

“…Nanaki,” it answered groggily.

“All right then, Nanaki. That’s how it is.” She offered him a tight-lipped smile and pulled the spent dart from his shoulder. “Let's get you back to the village. We'll let you perform the rite, but you have to come with us afterward.”

The beast nodded slowly. “But only me,” Nanaki insisted. “Leave Deneh out of this.”

“Deal.”

Cissnei waved Reno over and together they helped the groggy animal to its feet. Nanaki swayed lethargically between them as he began to walk, staggering against them like a drunkard. It was going to be a long walk back to the village.

Chapter 47: 19: The Choices We Made in the Beginning and the End, part 1

Notes:

This chapter contains some overlap with Crisis Core, so some scenes and dialog come directly from there and may not directly feature in BC.

[December 0006]

“Tseng, sir. I have arrived in the forests outside Nibelheim,” the Turk reported, her eyes scouring the woods ahead of them. The forest was completely still.

“Your targets are two escaped research samples,” Tseng reminded her. “They have most likely taken refuge in the forest. Secure them immediately upon discovery.”

“Understood.”

“Be careful,” Tseng warned. “The army is on the move as well.”

The Turk disconnected the call and started into the trees, picking her way carefully around fallen branches and clusters of dead leaves. Ahead of her, footsteps crashed incautiously through the forest, loudly crushing the foliage underfoot. Ducking into some nearby brush, the Turk listened as two infantrymen clomped through the woods a few meters away.

“They’re not here either…” one of the men complained, holstering his weapon. “You sure they’re in these woods?”

“The Turks are supposed to be here as well,” the second man reminded him.

“If they're here, then we must be in the right place.”

“We’re going to find those samples before the Turks do. We’re not going to let those jerks in suits take all the glory.”

“You said it,” the first man agreed with a quiet chuckle. “We’ve got the numbers on our side. Covering this area will be easy. There’s no way they’ll find ‘em before we do.”

They walked on a few paces.

“Hey, you got the radio, right?”

“What do you think?” his partner snapped. “‘Course I do!”

“All right. We’ll split up from here. If you find anything, get on the squawk box and report it.”

The first infantryman nodded. “Right.”

The Turk watched as the men separated, one heading east, the other south past the Turk's hiding place. She watched him approach with a critical glare. They might be on the same team, but if it was a competition they wanted… Moving stealthily, she emerged from the brush and landed a well-placed strike to the back of the infantryman's neck. With a silent twitch, he sunk to the forest floor unconscious. Grabbing the man under the arms, the Turk dragged his body over to the brush and stashed him there, before recovering his GPS and radio from the forest floor. The device suddenly went off with a burst of static.

“The targets’ footprints have been confirmed in area B3. Search the vicinity.”

The Turk smiled to herself as she quickly consulted the infantryman's GPS. This was going to be easy. She’d let the army lead her right to the targets. She double checked her position and took off through the trees towards the designated area. Angling north, she made her way quickly, but quietly, around the trees and brush.

Nearing the northeast corner of the forest, several screams ripped through the trees, followed by ricocheting gunshots. The Turk ducked for cover, waiting for the forest to still before racing towards the scene. Leaping a fallen log, she dove into a thick veil of brush. When she emerged on the other side, she found herself facing three infantrymen lying scattered around the forest floor. Slowing her steps, she scanned the area, hand hovering near her weapon. Remaining alert, she made her way towards the nearest soldier. She crouched down beside him and checked the man’s neck for a pulse as she kept her eyes fixed on the trees around them. Pressing her fingertips to the side of his neck, she was able to detect a faint pounding against them. Daring to remove her eyes from the trees, she looked down at him, then to the other two men. There was no blood.

“They’re out cold…” she muttered in amazement. Did the research samples do this? Why? What kind of monster wouldn’t just kill them?

The escaped samples had to be nearby. Weapon ready, the Turk rose to her feet and set off back into the trees.

* * *

“Damn it! There’s no end to this!” Zack swore through gritted teeth.

The wilderness stretched on before him in a never ending expanse of grass and trees. A cool dampness in the air indicated water nearby. They must be nearing the coast then.Carrying Cloud into a wooded alcove, Zack propped him up against a boulder. Then, kneeling beside him, he straightened his legs and laid his hands in his lap, making sure he looked to be in a comfortable position.

“Wait here a minute,” he instructed him. “I’m gonna take a look around.”

Cloud’s head laid tipped to one side, offering Zack no response. With a sigh, Zack stood up and made his way up a small hill at the edge of the alcove. Beyond, a shallow valley stretched towards a body of water. He quickly scanned the landscape ahead and behind for signs of pursuit. Holding his breath, he listened for sounds on the wind. Nothing. Releasing a sigh, he mounted the crest and followed a narrow dirt path that cut east.

Ahead he could see the rotating luminary of a lighthouse about a quarter of a mile away up the shoreline of a large lake. He walked steadily towards it and soon began to hear the sound of the gentle wind-blown waves lapping at the shore. Zack let the steady rhythm soothe his mind. The stresses of their escape and of Cloud’s uncertain future were beginning to take their toll on him, both physically and mentally. He knew Cloud was safe in the woods, at least for now. He hadn’t seen any sign of the Shinra army for several hours. He needed this time to get away and sort things through – to come up with a plan. He felt like he was running blind. He had so many unanswered questions.

He passed the lighthouse and stared out at the water. The moon above reflected serenely on its rippling surface. If only his own life was so at peace. If only he and Sephiroth hadn’t been sent to Nibelheim, then none of the events of those few days would have happened. Sephiroth wouldn’t be dead; he would be back in Midgar selling flowers with Aerith; and Cloud wouldn’t be in his comatose state. How quickly everything changed.

He stood at the water’s edge below the lighthouse watching the moon's reflection dancing off of the constant income of waves on the shore.

“Huh… Where do I go from here?” he sighed. “Can’t do much when I’ve got Cloud to worry about…” He looked up at the sky, so vast and empty. “Angeal… what should I do?”

Behind him, the faintest sound of crunching sand carried to him on the breeze. But it didn’t surprise him. He didn’t turn around, only lifted his head slightly in a shallow show of acknowledgement.

“Hey, Cissnei,” he greeted the Turk. “Been a while.”

Cissnei froze in her approach. Her fingers tightened around her shuriken as she stared at the back of the man in front of her. Seeing his uniform, she should’ve known better than to try to sneak up on a SOLDIER. But surely he wasn’t…

“Zack…” Her voice fought back a quiver, sounding like she was in a state of shock. “The fugitive sample… is it you?”

“It would appear so,” he answered quietly.

She had not anticipated this. How could it be? Her mind was reeling, leaving her at a loss for words. This just wasn’t possible in her mind. The man before her had to be a ghost. He was supposed to be dead. If he had been alive all this time, the Turks would have known. She stared at Zack’s back. She had yet to see his face, but he had sounded… harder, somehow – almost angry. Not the Zack she remembered.

“What did they do to you in that place?” she dared to ask, having to force the words past the constriction in her throat.

Zack folded his arms and turned to her slightly then, if only to study her form the corner of his eye. “Well…” he held his hand up as though weighing the words necessary to convey his ordeal. “…this and that…” he told her grudgingly, not offering any details. Lowering his hand, he turned to face her completely. He didn’t smile. “So, Cissnei,” he confronted her, “you’re here to take us back, right?”

Cissnei looked down at the sand between them, unable to meet his eyes. Yes, those were her orders, but…

“Please, just walk away!” Zack implored her, his eyes pleading. She looked up. She hadn’t expected begging from him. He sounded desperate, nearly hopeless as he continued, “I thought we could outrun the army, but the Turks are a different story.”

Cissnei clenched her eyes shut, unable to see Zack in such a state. What had happened to him in there? Did she want to know? Horrible images filled her mind as her pulse pounded wildly in her ears. She couldn’t – were those tears burning under her eyelids? “Zack, I’m sorry…”

Sorry for what? Zack grimaced at those words. Bowing his head, he looked down at this boots. Now what? What was he supposed to do?

“This is my job,” Cissnei declared, her voice steady once more.

Zack slowly lifted his eyes to find her holding her shuriken poised by her shoulder, ready to throw it. When he met her eyes, she quickly snatched hers away.

“If you want to escape, you have to…” She trailed off as her voice began to crack.

She clenched her eyes, hesitating a brief moment before she threw her weapon at him. Moving on instinct, he drew his sword over his shoulder and batted the shuriken easily from the air, sending it reeling back at her. It sailed harmlessly over her head and skidded to a halt half-buried in the sand behind her. Zack then held the point of the Buster Sword aimed at the Turk. She was looking over her shoulder at her fallen weapon, but made no move to retrieve it. Slowly, she turned her face back to Zack. Her eyes searched his face in silence. If he hadn't been a SOLDIER, she would’ve thought the look in his eyes was one of fear. But SOLDIERs were never afraid, right? Uncertainty, perhaps? Taking a deep breath, she relaxed her stance and took a step towards him.

“Stay back,” Zack warned her and lifted the point of his sword higher. She stopped mid stride. She saw then that it wasn't fear in his eyes, but desperation – and maybe a little regret. A muscle twitched in his cheek. “Next time… I’ll really have to…”

He let the threat trail off. Keeping his weapon trained on her, he took a few steps up the beach, skirting around her at a safe distance before breaking into a run up the shore. When he passed beyond her line of sight, she was left listening to his footfalls fade into the distance behind her. Before her, the water danced in the moonlight without a care in the world. Little frothy white caps lapped up the sand towards her, threatening to wet her shoes before retreating harmlessly back to its own world. She closed her eyes. She should to go after him, but… No, she couldn’t do it…

* * *

Zack ran along the shore and finally cut back towards the woods. He dodged around tree trunks and jumped boulders, hoping Cissnei was indeed alone, and that Cloud hadn’t already been found by the other Turks. If they got their hands on him… It had been foolish of him to leave Cloud alone in such a state. He had gone through too much to lose him now. If anything bad had befallen him in his absence…

Zack ran on and came to the clearing where he had left his companion. To his relief, he found Cloud propped up against the same rock where he had left him. His eyes were half open, and his head was tipped slightly to one side. He hadn’t moved an inch. Zack allowed himself a small moment of respite. But what was he going to do now? The Turks were close. Too close. Catching his breath, he put his hands on his hips and looked up at the moon. He needed a plan.

“The Turks are here, too,” he told Cloud glumly. “It’s too dangerous to move now. We’ll rest here until morning. Then we’ll leave at dawn.” He looked down at Cloud for confirmation. Cloud didn’t argue. “Eh, we’ll be alright,” he told Cloud with a reassuring smile. The Turks were certainly going to complicate things, but he could handle them. He’d have to.

Crack! The quiet sound of a snapping twig echoed behind him, and his smile quickly vanished. He spun around. The Turk had followed him. He should’ve expected as much. Moving between her and Cloud, he drew his sword again and fixed her with an unfriendly gaze.

“Cissnei…” he warned in a deep tone.

Cissnei met his gaze with a softened expression. Ignoring the threat in his voice, she started towards him with light easy strides, arms swinging loosely at her sides. She didn’t want Zack to feel threatened, although it was probably already too late for that. As she drew closer, her eyes moved past him to the comatose man in a SOLDIER uniform on the ground behind him. She came to a halt. She didn’t recognize him, but…

“Wait, he… he’s the other sample they collected at Nibelheim,” she said, returning her gaze to Zack.

Zack took a protective step closer to Cloud and held his weapon a little higher. “Why did you come here!?” he growled. “I told you to go away.”

“He doesn’t look well, Zack,” Cissnei said, sounding genuinely concerned. She returned her gaze to the other man and asked, “Is he alright?”

“Mako poisoning,” Zack snapped, a hint of anger tinting his voice. “Severe case.”

Cissnei lowered her eyes and looked away. She had heard of the condition before, but never seen it firsthand. Extensive exposure to mako could render the recipient catatonic – if it didn't kill him outright. It was why very few SOLDIER candidates made it into the program. Not many people could handle the mako infusion treatments.

“The experiments, isn’t it?” she asked, trying not to imagine what that might have entailed – the “this and that” as Zack had put it.

“Yeah,” Zack replied tersely without taking his eyes from her.

Cissnei grew somber as she began to piece their story together. Somehow Zack had survived years of experimentation to then break out not only himself, but the comatose man with him. He’d then made it all this way with the burden of the other man. She looked back at Zack and saw a man that was desperate – and dangerous. Her hand quickly shot to her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she pressed a single button and lifted it to her ear. She had to call headquarters.

Zack watched her wide-eyed. “Hey!” he shouted as he felt the blood drain from his face. The Buster Sword suddenly felt very heavy in his grasp, and he let its point drop towards the ground.

Cissnei raised her other hand towards him in a soothing gesture and looked up at the sky as her call picked up. Taking a deep breath, she made up her mind. “Tseng, I’ve lost the target,” she reported quickly in short clipped tones.

Zack stared at her in shock, further relaxing the grip on his sword until it rested on the ground. He watched her as she stood looking up at the sky, listening to Tseng a moment longer. He could hear the other Turk’s voice coming over the speaker loud and stern. Slowly she lowered the phone with Tseng's voice still blaring from the other end, growing ever louder. She quickly disconnected the call and put it away. After a moment of silence, she turned back to Zack. Her amber colored eyes looked up to his, and she offered him a small smile.

“That’s how it is,” she said quietly with a small shrug of her narrow shoulders. “So get away safely.”

She gave him another smile and turned to leave.

“Cissnei…”

She turned back at his voice.

“Thank you,” he told her.

Reaching into the breast pocket of her suit, she hurried back to him. Reaching out, she took his hand and pulled it towards her. “Here’s a present,” she said, placing a small object in his palm and curling his fingers around it. She looked up to meet his eyes. “If you think you can trust me, then use it.”

Releasing him, she pulled away and quickly left the clearing without looking back. When she had gone, Zack looked down at his hand and opened it. A silver keyring glimmered in his palm. He glanced back up to where Cissnei had vanished into the forest. Thank you, he thought. Then he smiled and found himself wishing they hadn’t become enemies.

* * *

Cissnei returned to the beach before answering the buzzing phone threatening to burn a hole in her pocket.

“What do you mean?” Tseng demanded the instant she picked up. He sounded tense. “Explain what happened!”

“The targets are victims of the Nibelheim Incident–”

He cut her off sharply, “I am aware of that–”

“One of them is Zack…” she blurted. The line went silent. Cissnei continued quietly, “Tseng, sir… We all refused to carry the victims into the lab that day.” Holding her breath, she waited for his reply.

“…This mission’s been compromised,” Tseng declared tersely, not sounding the least bit pleased with her. “Cissnei, return to headquarters at once.”

“Please! Listen to me, Tseng!” she pleaded.

The Chief said nothing, but she could hear him breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. He was livid.

“I’m going to see for myself,” she dared, turning towards Nibelheim. “I’ll find out what went on in that lab.”

“Hey!” he shouted into the speaker. “Hold on! Cissnei!”

She hung up on him.

--

Tseng threw his phone onto table and looked away as it bounced once and skidded to the edge. Placing both palms on the desk, he leaned over it. What was she thinking? He breathed in deeply through his nose, keeping his lips pressed in a thin line.

“Sounds like your Turk has run renegade on you again.”

Tseng cast an ungrateful glance over at Rufus Shinra, letting him know that his input was not welcome. Rufus looked back from his cell with a lazy expression in his dancing blue eyes, letting Tseng know that he did not care. Pulling his gaze away, Tseng looked back down at the phone on the edge of his desk.

Cissnei… The army’s out there too, he worried. Stay on your guard.

Chapter 48: 19: The Choices We Made in the Beginning and the End, part 2

[Shinra Manor]

Cissnei ducked down next to the main gate in front of the old Shinra mansion as a guard passed by. He was alone and it didn't take long for him to round the bend in the road headed back to the village. Rising from her hiding place, she stepped quickly through the rusted gate and entered the mansion's front courtyard on silent feet. The gardens were overgrown and a little unsettling in the shifting shadows of the late night hour. Setting her uneasiness aside, she hurried to the front door and pushed her way inside. Closing it quietly behind her, she paused to look around. It hadn't changed much in the four years since she was last there with Chief Verdot.

What kind of experiments were done here…? she wondered, but didn't really want to know.

She paced a small circuit of the front foyer, trying to remember the lay of the manor. Snapping her fingers, she turned towards the stairs. There have to be records left in the archives, she recalled. Taking the stairs two at a time, she reached the top and turned left. The archive had been at the end of the west wing, she remembered. Turning the corner, she hurried down the long darkened corridor. As she drew near she could see the door was open ajar, and there was a light on inside. Slowing her pace, she tiptoed the last couple of meters and leaned gently against the door. Unsure what to expect, she drew her pistol and pushed the door open, cringing at the quiet squeak of its hinges.

A man stood at one of the shelves, thumbing through the hundreds of records lining the room. At her sudden intrusion, the man spun around to face her, raising his hand, palm towards her. He wore a gray suit, with a plain black shirt underneath. No tie. His face was strained with wrinkles. His hair was streaked with slight wisps of gray and longer than she remembered, but his deep brown eyes were same. She recognized him immediately.

“Chief Verdot!” she gasped, as her gun dropped to the floor at her feet with a dull thud.

“Oh, it’s you, Cissnei,” he said, relaxing his stance. The frown did not leave his face however, and his eyes, looking oh so wary, bore into her own. “It’s been a while. Did you come to carry out my assassination?”

Cissnei stared back at him in disbelief. Her mouth suddenly felt dry, her tongue useless. “Sir, I… It’s true – we have been given orders to kill you. But…” she looked at the floor, fumbling for words. First Zack, and now the Chief. She fought back the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She felt so overwhelmed by her emotions. More so than she had ever been before. “I… … There’s no way I could kill you!” she blurted.

The Chief lowered his prosthetic arm and put his left hand in his pocket as he stared at his former subordinate. He couldn't recall ever seeing this Turk so torn by loyalty. It wasn't like her. He thought he had trained her better than that. His eyes looked her up and down with intensified scrutiny. “So you would betray Shinra and the Turks?” he tested her.

“…I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” she confessed, her voice quiet and small. “It’s true that the company will resort to any means to achieve its goals. But it’s also true that a lot of people depend on Shinra. I want to stay here with the Turks because we are what you made us,” she rambled, still not looking at him. “You made the Turks what they are today. That’s why I’m going to help you. It’s the least I can do for now…”

“Cissnei…” he said quietly, his voice deep and fatherly. She looked up at him then. He offered her a faint smile. “It’s good to have you along,” he told her.

She felt as though a behemoth had been lifted off her shoulders at the words of the Chief. She smiled then, and tried to inconspicuously wipe away a stray tear. It wouldn't do to have the Chief see her crying so. She walked over to examine the shelf beside him. This was the last place she had expected to find him.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” she asked, scanning the files with her eyes, though their numbers revealed nothing to her.

Verdot turned back to the vast number of records on the shelf before him and sighed tiredly. “I’m looking for a way to save Felicia. This is where she underwent the materia infusion. I thought there might still be some records of it left.”

“Found anything yet?” she asked, looking at him, hoping to get a glimpse of his face.

“I’ve discovered a bit over the past three years,” he announced. “So long as that materia remains in her body, Felicia will eventually die. To save my daughter, certain materia will be required. The Turks should already have one of them.” He turned his head to look at her. Their eyes met.

“You mean the one we got in Corel?” she asked, imagining the materia she had gotten from Shears.

“Precisely.”

She turned back to the shelf, hoping to hide the confusion she felt stirring in her mind. How would the Chief know about that? she wondered.

A yellowed note peeked out from between two files. Cissnei plucked it out absently, grasping for anything to occupy her reeling thoughts. A short note was scrawled on it in a messy hand. There were numbers written at the bottom.

“Any idea what these are for?” she asked the Chief, holding it up. She knew it could refer to any number of experiments.

“Sample vault. 30-40-50,” he read aloud. “……There used to be a storage room in the basement outside the laboratory where the Professor kept supplies and rare stock materials. What we seek might lie beyond that door.”

“Let's check it out then,” Cissnei said optimistically, turning for the door.

She stepped aside and let Verdot lead the way to the basement. The procession reminded her so much of the last time they had come here on that day four years ago. The day of the Nibelheim Incident. She had been sent to the manor to get it ready for the experiments that had tormented Zack for years. Had she known… The thought made her stomach turn. No. She shook her head. She couldn't think like that. At least now her purpose here was more noble.

She stepped down off the last stair behind Verdot and followed him into the antechamber. She remembered it well. The semicircular room was lined with doors. The door to the laboratory was straight across from them. That door stood open, undoubtedly left that way by Zack during his escape. Verdot headed for the first door on the left. He reached for the handle and paused. It was already open. Either someone had beaten them to it, or… Cissnei could think of no other reason. Verdot quickly pushed the door open wide and stared inside. Light from the antechamber illuminated the space beyond. He stepped boldly inside. Cissnei followed.

Several boxes were stacked along the perimeter of the room. It certainly looked like a storage area. One long box sat out away from the others. Cissnei looked at it a second time and realized the wooden crate wasn't a box at all.

“There's a coffin…” she said uneasily, pointing it out to Verdot.

The Chief stepped over to it without hesitation. “The materia could be hidden inside,” he said determinedly. Then he reached for the lid. Curling his fingers under the lip, he gave it a firm pull and raised it up with ease. The hinges on the opposite side squealed quietly in protest, attesting to the fact that it had not been opened in a very long time.

Cissnei pulled back, slightly repulsed to find a body inside. Contrary to what she expected, no odor wafted from the sarcophagus. In fact, the man inside appeared to be incredibly well preserved. His skin was pale, but his face was still full and his black hair looked soft and silky, not dead and brittle. He was wrapped in a red cloak. She imagined if she looked close enough, she might see him breathing. It was then that she realized that he was breathing. His eyelids twitched, brushing long dark lashes against his pale cheeks before shooting open to reveal bright red irises. The eyes focused directly on her. Jumping back, she grabbed Verdot's arm.

“Chief!” she exclaimed.

Verdot saw it too, but stood calmly as the man in the coffin raised one hand to the rim and sat up with ease. He turned to look up at those who had disturbed his slumber.

Verdot studied the man's features with skeptical eyes, before venturing a long forgotten name. “Vincent?” he asked.

The man returned the stare and, without blinking, returned the greeting. “Verdot, huh.”

Without awaiting further salutations, he stood up with an unexpected grace and stepped over the side of the coffin. Cissnei took a cautious step backwards, retreating another step behind the Chief. Dead or not, the mysterious man unnerved her, if for no other fact than he had just stepped out of a coffin. He was quite tall and dressed completely in black, except for his tattered red cloak and a scarf tied across his forehead. His black hair was long and unkempt, hanging down past his shoulders. His face appeared youthful, though full of sorrow. His crimson eyes focused solely on the Chief with enough intensity to make Cissnei recoil.

“Is he a friend of yours, sir?” she asked warily.

“I’m a former Turk,” Vincent replied curtly, turning his cold gaze to her. His voice was deep and gravely, not at all like she expected.

“We were partners… a long time ago,” Verdot added. Turning back to Vincent, he said, “There is a lot I want to ask you about–”

A shadow fell across the doorway. Cissnei turned to see a Raven standing there. “AVALANCHE!” she warned the others.

A second man entered immediately behind him. Before she could draw her weapon, two gunshots erupted from behind her, filling the room with their boisterous echo. The two Ravens fell backwards out of the room, dead. She looked back to see a smoking gun in Vincent's right hand.

“It’s been a while,” Vincent said, looking at Verdot as though nothing had just happened.

“You…You haven’t changed at all since the day you disappeared,” Verdot said, studying the young man's features again. He raised an eyebrow in question. Something was amiss.

“The passage of time holds no meaning to me,” Vincent replied brusquely. “I have no interest in how many months and years have passed.”

Verdot nodded slowly in understanding. “…Is this Hojo's doing?” he dared to ask.

“Sorry… Can’t talk about it,” the former Turk replied, returning his gun to the holster at his hip with an air of finality. “I am here to atone for the sins I’ve committed.”

“…I see.” Verdot nodded again, but did not question the troubled man further.

“Verdot, why did you come here?” he asked, crossing his arms and eying the Chief skeptically.

“We’re looking for a certain materia,” he began.

“They have a pyramid-shaped crystal in their center,” Cissnei added, finally finding her voice in the man’s suffocating presence.

Vincent shifted his eyes between the two Turks. “Then I’ve seen one,” he revealed, turning back to his coffin. “Look in the stained glass room.”

He lifted one foot into the coffin and paused as the sound of running footsteps echoed across the antechamber outside.

“Damn. We were overheard,” Verdot cursed and headed for the door. “Vincent, I hope we can meet again someday.”

Vincent looked away from him with a grunt as he sat back down in the coffin. Cissnei’s eyes fell to him as he settled back inside his prison. “I have no intention of leaving this place,” she heard him mutter as he reached up for the lid. Catching Cissnei watching him, he turned his face to meet her gaze one more time. That simple look sent shivers down her spine. Unnerved by his stare, she turned for the door. By the time she reached it, Verdot was already starting up the stairs.

“Chief! Wait for me!” she called after him.

As she stepped through the doorway, she heard the lid to Vincent's coffin slam shut. Without thinking, she reached back and pulled the door closed behind her. After doing so, she wondered why she had done it, but didn't waste time on the thought. She raced for the stairs and started up. She still hadn't seen Verdot by the time she reached the top. They had to be headed for the stained glass room, she reasoned. She remembered it from before. It was on the second level. She headed for the stairs.

When she reached the room, she found the door standing open and burst inside just as a Raven flew into the opposite wall, his uniform engulfed in flames. She saw the Chief then, standing in a circle of incapacitated AVALANCHE troops. Seeing her enter, he lowered his arm.

“Chief!” she gasped in relief.

He ignored her greeting, instead focusing on the ceiling above. She followed his gaze to an ornate crystal chandelier hanging overhead. At its center, an orange sphere glowed with a pyramid shaped crystal in the middle of it.

“There it is! The same materia as Elfe’s!” Cissnei exclaimed and ran over to join the Chief beneath it.

“Give me your gun,” he asked, holding out his hand, but keeping his eyes on the materia.

She handed it over without hesitation and covered her ears as he aimed it towards the chandelier and fired. Cissnei shielded her face with her arm as shards of glass and crystal sprinkled down on them. Stretching out his hand, Verdot snatched the materia out of the air. He cradled the precious stone in his palm as he held it close, studying it. A ghost of a smile lifted his weary face.

“Now we have two,” he said, holding it out to show Cissnei. “Only two more to go…”

Cissnei looked down at the precious materia in the Chief's hand. It was identical to the one she’d gotten from Shears, now tucked away safe at Turk headquarters. “What will happen when we gather all four of them?” she asked.

“Felicia will be saved,” said Verdot, safely enclosing the materia in his synthetic fingers. “While the materia in her is incomplete, it drains her life force to compensate. With the other four materia gathered, it will stop.”

“Two left…” Cissnei repeated. “We have to find them no matter what.”

Just then a brilliant flash erupted around them. A sharp pain exploded in Verdot’s side, knocking him to his knees. Beside him, he heard Cissnei cry out as she was flung to the floor next to him. Before he could recover, another stab of pain flashed down his left arm, and he felt his fingers being pried open as the materia was extracted from his grasp. Fighting back, he swung a fist at their attacker, but could see nothing in the blinding fog surrounding them. The sound of retreating footsteps echoed across the room, and he scrambled to his feet. The residue from the flash grenade was beginning to dissipate. Nearby, he could see Cissnei struggling to her feet as well.

“They took the materia!” he shouted to her as he bolted across the room in pursuit of their assailant. He heard Cissnei's footsteps close behind as he sprinted down the stairs and crashed through the manor's front door.

Outside, the Raven sprinted across the courtyard to where Fuhito stood patiently waiting with arms crossed, hip leaning against the garden fence. The master held out his hand expectantly, and the servant obediently dropped the pilfered materia into it. Fuhito held the prize up, examining it triumphantly.

“Good work,” he told him, looking beyond him to the front door of the manor as Cissnei and Verdot exited the building. “Thank you,” he called to them. “You’ve made my job so much easier.”

Verdot came to a sudden halt at the sight of Fuhito standing there, and Cissnei nearly collided into him from behind.

“Fuhito!” he screamed angrily. “Give Felicia back!”

Cissnei recoiled at the sound of his voice. She had never heard the Chief sound so desperate and ill-composed.

Fuhito turned an icy glare towards him, his face eerily calm. “I have to refuse,” he said haughtily. “You should consider her safety before you do anything rash. Do not forget that she is always within my reach.”

Verdot growled in frustration as his hands formed tight fists at his sides. A great beast of unadulterated hatred coiled within him with greater intensity than any he had ever known before. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to destroy the vile man before him with his bare hands. Yet with all his power, he could not lay a finger on him. As long as his precious daughter was beyond his ability to protect, Fuhito was untouchable.

Fuhito knew this, and used that information to twist the proverbial dagger in his gut even further. Oh, how he enjoyed having leverage over people who thought themselves more powerful than he. The burning rancor in the father’s eyes told him he had succeeded today in more ways than one. He laughed a sharp cackling howl and made his farewell.

“Then I bid you good day,” he declared and offered them an elegant taunting wave as he turned and started out of the courtyard with his loyal Raven in tow.

Cissnei watch in horror as the men made their unhindered escape. “Chief! We have to go after him!” she urged.

Without a word, Verdot started towards the courtyard gate with long purposeful strides. Cissnei was right on his heels, taking two steps to each of his to keep up, until he suddenly stopped. Once more, Cissnei caught herself nearly colliding with him. Before she could ask the reason, he turned to face her. She looked up to meet his eyes and quickly took a step back. He was scowling at her, a dark look in his eyes. She took another step backwards. His frown deepened. She took another step back.

“Wh–What’s the matter?” she stammered, feeling herself wilt under his menacing gaze.

He didn’t answer her, only continued to drill her with a nearly murderous glare. Her eyes grew wide as he lifted his hand towards her. She saw a flash of light erupt from his palm; and the next second, she felt herself flying backwards through the air, enveloped by an uncomfortable level of heat. She landed hard on her back and somersaulted twice before coming to a halt face down near the manor’s front step. She felt every muscle in her body seize, reacting to the burning heat dancing over her skin for the briefest of seconds. Confused and frightened, she lifted her head and watched as Verdot lowered his arm and turned away from her. Without a word or a backward glance, he set off after Fuhito, leaving Cissnei alone and moaning in pain in the courtyard.

“Chief… Why…?” she groaned, pushing herself up onto her elbows as he disappeared into the darkness beyond the gate.

Something rustled in the overgrown vegetation of the manor gardens to her right. She shook her head as she tried to clear her vision. Were there more Ravens? Rolling over to her side, she peered into the darkness along the side of the building. Something moved. As it retreated, she recognized the familiar shape of a Shinra infantry helmet glinting in the moonlight. Collapsing to her back, Cissnei let herself relax and laid her head back down on the smooth cobblestones.

So the army was watching, she thought to herself. The Chief did that throw them off.

It was then that she noticed a piece of paper clenched in her right hand. Intrigued, she held it up to the moonlight and tugged on the corners to smooth out the wrinkles.

Cissnei,

Ask Reeve about the locations of the remaining

materia. I’m counting on you.

Verdot

* * * * * * *

[Shinra Conference Room]

A lone infantryman entered the large conference room with anxious steps. He had never been inside before. It was typically reserved for the company's elite. And that didn't include infantrymen. But today he had been sent by one of the directors with a special message for the President. President Shinra himself was waiting for him. Seated at the head of the conference table, his imposing figure sat hunched over a stack of reports on desk in front of him.

The infantryman cleared his throat nervously as he stepped stiffly inside. “Mr. President, I have brought a classified message from the Head of Weapons Development.”

The President looked up and fixed him with a cold, but inquisitive stare. Lifting his hand, he waved him forward, and soldier hurried inside. He skirted the long table, keeping his eyes forward as opposed to ogling the extravagant décor of the meeting room. When he reached the head of the table, he held out a sealed envelope to the President.

“A classified message from Scarlet?” the President hummed. “All right, let me read it.” He took the envelope from the soldier and waved him out. “You’re dismissed.”

“Sir.” He bowed his head and quickly left.

President Shinra turned the enveloped over curiously in his hands before lowering it to the table. He haphazardly broke the seal and tore the flap off the top of the envelope without care. “Now what is this about?” he muttered as he pulled out a single sheet of paper.

 

The Turks are defying the assassination orders and helping the fugitive Verdot. This is obviously an act of betrayal. Disband the Turks and let me handle the manhunt. I’ve got all the needed resources in place.

 

The President’s pulse spiked as he read the news. With a growl, he pounded a fist on the table and muttered frustrated curses under his breath. “Damn those Turks…” he seethed. “I would have them killed right now for their insubordination… But they have Rufus…”

Even so, the betrayal of the Turks was too much. Growling with rage, he pressed the call button at the head of the table. “Get me Scarlet!” he screamed into the intercom. “I have classified orders for her.”

---

[Turk Headquarters, Shinra Building, Midgar]

Tseng looked across the table to his Turks. It was the first time they had all been gathered together in the same room in a very long time. He had called all of them back when he got word of the news. At the words of the President, they were to be disbanded. Shut down. Disposed of. Word of their lingering loyalty to Verdot had somehow reached Scarlet’s ears, and she had wasted no time in calling for their dissolution. And the President, it seemed, had listened to her.

Across from him, the other Turks gathered around the long conference table. Some stood. Some sat. All were looking at him as each one processed the news of their disbandment. Reno, Rude, Cissnei, Emma, Alvis, Juget, Ruluf, Balto, Freyra, Maur. They had all come. As their leader, it was his job to lead them, even in this.

“The Turks will stand by Verdot,” Tseng told them, concluding his announcement.

“This means betraying the company, ya know,” Reno reminded him, reclining back in his chair.

Tseng nodded slowly, acknowledging the dangerous position he was putting all of them in with his decision. “Our lives are probably forfeit,” he told them solemnly.

“We knew that from the start,” Reno assured him, looking at each of the other Turks in turn.

Rude agreed. “Our lives were always hanging on the edge. Nothing’s changed.”

“We won’t be able to turn back after this,” Tseng warned them. Rising from his chair, he placed both hands on the table in front of him and looked down at them. If they really went through with this, there was no guarantee he could protect his subordinates. It was a heavy burden he was deciding to bear.

“Don’t worry, Tseng,” Cissnei said, speaking for all of them. “We’ve already decided. We’re going to help the Chief and Elfe both. And we won’t stop until they’re safe.”

Tseng lifted his eyes from the table and looked first at Cissnei, then the others. All of them were giving him their approval. Danger or not, they were prepared to take on his latest mission. They were Turks. They didn’t back down and they did not give in. They would not stop until their mission was complete.

Chapter 49: 20: The Consequences of Our Choices, part 1

[The Shinra Building, Midgar]

The infantryman wandered down yet another hall on yet another floor of the Shinra Building. He had checked over a hundred doors by now and still nothing to show for it. He was really starting to get frustrated. He tried another door. Nope. He turned away, not really surprised by the outcome. Before he continued on, something caught his eye at the end of the hallway, back the way he had come from. He paused for a moment and stared as his eyes landed on a dark object lying on the floor. Certain that it hadn’t been there before, he made his way back down the hall to investigate.

“What’s this?” he grumbled as he came to stand over it. “A stuffed toy cat…?”

It looked like it was an elaborate children's toy. It was a black cat with a soft white belly and white gloved paws. A small golden crown adorned its head between dainty pointed black ears. It had a playful smile that curled up under a small pink nose. It even had white whiskers. The man looked down at it critically. What was a child’s toy doing here?

“Hey,” a voice called behind him.

The infantryman turned around to see his partner coming down the hall towards him. “Oh, it’s you,” he called back. “This place is like a maze. You could easily end up getting lost here.”

“Yeah,” the second infantryman agreed. “Did you find the Turks’ headquarters yet?”

He shook his head. “No, not yet. They deal with so much classified stuff that even their HQ is top secret.”

“Ha!” the other man choked back a laugh. “‘Keep an eye on the Turks’ she said… But we don’t even know where to look,” he scoffed. “Scarlet always makes unreasonable demands.”

His partner snorted in agreement. “Yeah. Scarlet’s an executive, she should know where their headquarters is. Why can’t she just tell us where to find it?” he complained.

“Nah, forget it. Even if she did know, it’s too secret for her to give away to the likes of us,” he mocked himself.

His partner shrugged. “I guess we’ll have to find it ourselves then.”

“What’s you expect. We’re always given impossible orders like this one. Let’s hurry up and find it before she gets angry, yeah?” he suggested and gave his partner’s shoulder a gentle shove.

His friend waved him off. “I hear you,” he said, then paused. “–Oh yeah. Have a look at this. There’s this weird looking stuffed toy…” He turned around and stepped aside to show his partner the toy cat he'd found, but it wasn't there. “Huh?” He stepped across the hall and turned a complete circle, scanning the floor for the stuffed animal. “It’s gone,” he declared. “Where’d it go?”

The other trooper watched him with unveiled curiosity as a mischievous smirk appeared on his lips. “You’re probably just seeing things,” he mocked him then patted him condescendingly on the shoulder. “Come on, we’ve got work to do! Work, I tell ya!”

The infantryman cast one more look around the empty hallway. “Y-Yeah, you’re right,” he stuttered as he rubbed a hand over his face. “But… I’m sure I saw it… Maybe I haven’t been getting enough sleep?”

His partner only laughed at him as he led the way back down the hall to the stairwell. It was time to move on to the next floor.

--

Tseng stepped out of the control room and found Cissnei anxiously pacing a circuit around the lounge. Her arms were crossed, her head down, watching her feet. She'd been like that since returning from Nibelheim. She didn't do well with waiting.

“Cissnei,” he called from the doorway. Her head shot up to look at him. “Reeve has returned from his business trip.”

“He's the Director of Urban Development, right?” she asked as she made her way across the room towards him. She clasped her hands together eagerly in front of her. “Do you really think he is going to help us?”

“Chief Verdot said he would,” Tseng answered solemnly. “We’ll have to trust him.”

Cissnei dropped her gaze and nodded in agreement. “I know,” she told him. She had never questioned the Chief before. If she had trusted him then, she could trust him now. Lifting her face, she gave Tseng a smile and turned for the door. “Well, I’m off then,” she declared.

“Good luck,” Tseng said quietly behind her. They needed all the luck they could get right now.

Returning to the control room, he checked the surveillance cameras in the hallway outside headquarters. No security officers were in sight. Hopefully it would stay that way. They couldn’t afford to get caught now. He switched on the intercom by the entrance. He could see Cissnei waiting.

“The coast is clear,” he informed her and watched her step out.

He then switched to another camera feed and continued monitoring the movements of the search teams sweeping the building. There were dozens of them. Still, he knew the Turks had the advantage of intelligence. Sitting back in his chair, he lifted a hand to his chin and stared at the screens without really seeing what was playing on them.

“Tseng, I’m sure that you must have noticed–”

“You mean the army?” he snapped without turning to look at the man.

“Precisely,” Rufus Shinra said with a smile. “It’s only a matter of time before they find you. It was a foolish thing to do, turning your back on the company. Stop while you still can, Tseng. If things keep going the way they have, the Turks are completely finished.”

“Thank you for your concern, sir,” Tseng replied curtly, not sounding at all grateful. “Still, we are the Shinra Company’s Turks. We will not do anything that might compromise the company.”

Rufus gave a disgruntled snort. “It’s a pity. I thought you people were smarter than that…” he mocked. “It seems that I’ve overestimated you.”

Tseng turned a deaf ear to the Vice President and went back to work.

--

The toy cat trotted clumsily on two legs as it rounded the corner and pulled up. Pressing itself against the wall, it peered cautiously back down the hall from which it had come and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Phew. Seems like I managed tae shake ‘em off somehow,” it congratulated itself in a heavy accent. “I dunno what would’ve happened had they caught me.”

The toy suddenly froze at the sound of a door sliding open behind it. Slowly, it turned to face whatever was approaching it. Staring at the corner, it watched as a young woman in a black suit stepped into the hall. She looked warily in both directions before fully turning the corner. When she turned in the toy’s direction, it panicked, letting out a little scream.

“Ah!” it squeaked.

Cissnei startled, too, at the sound. On high alert, her eyes quickly scanned the hallway before locking on to the toy that stood a few feet away from her at the end of the hall. What is that doing here? her mind briefly wondered as she continued to scan the area. As her eyes continued to search for the source of the sound, they slowly made their way back to the mysterious toy. The thing was lying limply on the carpet. She blinked. She must’ve imagined it standing before. Stepping over to it, she knelt down to examine it. As she thought, it appeared to be child’s stuffed toy – a black cat with white paws and white whiskers. It's rather cute, she thought with a smile. But what's it doing here?

“Hey! Ye there!”

Cissnei jumped back. It was the same voice from before. She quickly looked back down the hall. But it hadn’t come from that direction. She looked back down at the toy. She was almost certain it had come from it. As she stared back down at it, its eyes suddenly sprang open and looked back up at her.

“Don’t be sae cold, lass. Ye just goin’ tae leave me lyin’ here?” it spoke. “Not plannin’ tae give me a helpin’ hand?”

Cissnei stared down at it with wide eyes and a slack jaw. “What?” was all she could stammer.

“Ach, don’t ye have a shred o’ compassion in yer heart?” the toy begged her. “So ye be another one of ‘em typical, uncarin’ modern folk, are you?”

“Stop that,” Cissnei warned in a harsh whisper. She didn’t know how it was talking to her or why, but it was sure to draw unwanted attention if it kept shouting like that. Kneeling down, she quickly grabbed the cat by its torso and set it upright on the carpet. Balancing it carefully on its two legs, she slowly removed her hands, but kept them hovering around it in case it should fall again.

“Thank ye kindly,” the toy said as it shooed her hands away and ran its gloved paws over its ruffled fur. It then held out a paw towards Cissnei. “Th’ name’s Cait Sith. What’s yer name, lass?”

“Cissnei?” she said, not sounding too sure as she took its offered paw.

The cat placed its other paw over her hand and gave it a hearty shake. “‘Tis a pleasure tae meet you!” it declared. “Let me tell ye yer fortune.” Cissnei watched with a raised eyebrow as the cat closed its eyes and began to wave its paws around in front of her. “Hmmm. I can see it! Ye be headed tae a certain somewhere! Pray let me show ye th’ way.”

Before she could protest, it trotted past her and rounded the corner from which she had just come. Jumping to her feet, Cissnei ran after him and watched as it marched right up to the Turk's secret entrance. The hidden door slid open, admitting it entrance, and it darted inside.

“Hey! Wait a minute!” she cried, sprinting after it. “You’re not allowed in there!”

As she slipped inside, she pressed a series of buttons on the control panel next to the doorway and sealed the entrance behind her. Then, turning around, she scanned the room. She looked over every chair, table, and potted plant, but saw no sign of the toy cat anywhere. She lifted a hand to her face and bushed her bangs back out of her eyes. Was she dreaming all this? She was beginning to wonder. Tseng had surely seen it all on the surveillance system. She ran to the control room and burst inside.

Tseng looked up sharply at her sudden entrance. A wary furrow creased his forehead. “What's wrong, Cissnei?” he asked. “Back already?”

“No, not really,” she said hastily as she searched for the words to describe her experience. “But I think we've had a breach of headquarters…”

As she spoke, she felt something brush between her legs and looked down to see the toy cat crawl between her feet then jump up to waltz into the control room. Without hesitation it sprung up onto the table and landed right in front of Tseng. Before Tseng could react, it touched a gloved hand to its crown and did a little bow. “Cait Sith, at your service,” it announced cheerily. “Pleased tae make your acquaintance.”

Tseng bolted up from his chair and pointed an accusing finger at the talking toy as he looked at Cissnei. “What is that?” he demanded.

Cissnei stared back at him, mouth open but with nothing to say.

“I’m a fortune tellin’ machine,” it declared in her absence. “But the man behind the cat is…”

“…Me.” A man's deep voice floated into the room over Cissnei's shoulder. Spinning around, she found herself looking up at a handsome young man in a business suit. He held up his hands in a soothing gesture and offered her a kind, apologetic smile.

“Director Tuesti?” Tseng inquired.

The man nodded as he stepped past Cissnei into the control room. “Good day to you all,” he greeted them both.

Cissnei stared after him as he approached table and reached across it to offer Tseng a handshake.

“Wh–When did you…” she stammered.

“Good timing,” Tseng welcomed him while ignoring Cissnei's befuddled stammering. “We were just going out to look for you.”

Reeve smiled. “I know,” he said. “My fortune told me you would. So, what can I do for you? My predictions don’t tell me everything.”

Tseng looked at him with a raised brow as he resumed his position behind his desk. “We’re looking for a certain materia,” he revealed, cutting straight to the point of their visit. “We were told that you might be able to help us.”

At his words, Cait Sith began bouncing up and down on the table in front of him. “An’ that’s where I come in,” it cheered excitedly.

“What?” Cissnei asked skeptically as she joined Tseng and Reeve at the table with Cait Sith. “You’re not planning to divine their location, are you?”

“Jist leave it tae me!” Cait Sith said excitedly, settling down to business. “I can find missin’ things, missin’ folks, anythin’! All right, here goes! Maybe here, maybe there. Cait Sith’s searchin’ everywhere. Hmmm…”

Tseng and Cissnei watched on skeptically as the mechanical cat hummed and waved its paws in divination. Reeve stood between them with arms crossed, smiling like a proud parent. Suddenly, Cait Sith's eyes popped open, and it jumped up and down eagerly.

“‘Tis in Gongaga,” it announced excitedly.

“Gongaga?” Cissnei whispered. Wasn't that Zack's hometown?

Tseng stepped back from the table and paced a circuit to the surveillance monitors. His eyes skimmed the screens, but his thoughts were elsewhere. Was he thinking of Zack as well? “We’ll have to get there without being spotted by the army,” he declared, turning to Reeve.

Reeve hummed in silent agreement. His gaze became thoughtful as he folded his arms and placed one hand to his chin. A sly smile slowly spread across his face. “Take a submarine from Junon,” he suggested.

Tseng shook his head dismissively. “The army controls the submarines.”

“We can’t let the army know we’re on the move,” Cissnei agreed.

“There’s no need to worry. Simply sneak in and steal one,” Reeve told them confidently. “By the time you’re out of the harbor it’ll be too late for them to do anything. If they catch you, tell them it was on my orders. I’ll take full responsibility.”

Cissnei looked to Tseng for confirmation. How much did he trust Reeve? He turned his gaze to the director. Reeve met it unwavering.

“Thank you very much, sir,” Tseng finally accepted, then looked to his colleague. “We're counting on you, Cissnei.”

“Well then, time tae be on our way,” Cait Sith announced. Skipping across the table, it planted itself in front of Cissnei and announced, “Strike while th’ iron’s hot, they say. Allow me tae lead the way.”

Cissnei tried to hide a smile as she looked from the robotic cat to Tseng and then to Reeve. The director offered her a friendly smile and nodded to the cat. It seemed she would have company on this mission.

Chapter 50: 20: The Consequences of Our Choices, part 2

[10 February 0007]

[Gongaga]

Cissnei stepped across the soft sand coating the beach, her mind and her eyes roving the unfamiliar landscape.

“What ye be lookin’ for is near th’ mako reactor,” Cait Sith explained in his usual accent. His undulating speech pattern roused her from her thoughts and brought her back to the mission at hand. “’Tis called a reactor, but nobody’s used it e’er since th’ accident. Come, let’s be on our way.”

Without further explanation, the robotic cat hopped up from the rock it had been sitting on and trotted up the beach towards a stand of trees. It labored a little in the deep sand, but otherwise proved quite agile at navigating the terrain. As Cissnei followed, she looked skyward. Above the tops of the trees, she could see the fractured dome of the reactor in the near distance. Then she looked back over her shoulder at the sub, its top barely visible above the surface of the water in the bay. Ahead of her, she heard Cait Sith grunt as it stumbled in the sand. If it wasn’t for it – and, more importantly, the man behind it – she wouldn’t be there.

“Thanks for showing me the way. You don’t have to go this far for us, you know,” she said quietly as they stepped off the beach and into the sparse forest. Dappled sunlight filtered down and glinted off the cat’s small crown every now and again.

“Aw, don’t ye worry none,” it replied cheerfully. “Verdot and I go back a long ways.”

Cissnei’s steps slowed. “You know about us working with the Chief?” she asked warily. If Reeve knew about their contact with him, then how much did the other executives know?

“Aye!” he exclaimed. “Mah fortunes told me so. Ye don't have tae worry yerself. I’m not about tae go an’ tell th’ President.”

“Why?” she demanded and snatched the robot up. Holding him at face level, she looked it in the eye, knowing that it was Director Tuesti she was talking to on the other side.

“I told ye, we go back a ways…” he answered calmly, then asked, “How’s Verdot doin’? I thought you could only leave the Turks when you were dead.”

Cissnei’s breath caught in her throat as she quickly looked away from the robot. Setting him back down carefully, she folded her arms and took a step back from it. “I’m sorry,” she told him. “That… That’s classified…”

“I see…” he answered quietly. “I guess you’re right…” It almost sounded sad – if a robot could sound sad, that is.

“I truly am sorry,” she told it, feeling the need to apologize to Reeve. If he and Verdot really were old friends, then she could understand his concern for the Chief.

“‘Tis fine! Truly!” he assured her. “Just tell him I’m rootin’ for him! Now, come! We’d better hurry!”

Turning away, he started back into the brush. Cissnei followed after him in silence. Every now and then, the robotic cat stole a quick glance up at his companion, noting her apparent sadness. Her concern for the Chief obviously weighed heavy on her shoulders. She was hurting, he could tell.

“Ye’re a tough one, lass,” he reminded her. “Ye sure showed ‘em security robots back in Junon a thing or two.” He threw a few mock punches in the air between them. “I sure wish I could fight like that too. Wham! Bam! Pow!”

Cissnei couldn't help but smile at the feline’s antics. She knew Reeve was trying to cheer her up, so she did her best to put on a brave face for his sake.

“How much farther to the reactor?” she asked, eager to change the subject.

“Ah! This is it! This is it!” he told her as he pointed towards a faint path through the trees. “Th’ mako reactor’s up ahead, I just know it! Well done, Cissnei. I’ll be right behind ye.”

Taking the lead, Cissnei held aside the brush to allow Cait Sith to follow with ease, and the polite little toy thanked her every time she did so. As they drew closer, the trees thinned out until they finally reached a clearing that spread out towards the ruins of the mako reactor.

“Aye, this reactor exploded 'bout three years 'go,” Cait Sith told her as he skipped around her legs and started across the clearing towards it. “It was 'bout a year after the destruction of Corel's reactor… My fortune tells me the materia should be around here…”

Trotting up to the edge of the rubble, the little robot began poking its head into every nook and cranny it could fit into. Cissnei followed along behind him from one spot to another as it scrambled nimbly over the piles of scrap and debris. Twice he lost his balance and nearly went tumbling from the top of a scrap heap, but somehow managed to catch itself and continued on with hardly a worry afterwards. At the end of one pile, it scurried down the other side and trotted up to a cavernous opening at the base of the next heap. Dropping down on all fours, it crawled inside. Its tail ticked rhythmically back and forth as it slowly began to disappear within.

“Ah!”

Cait Sith's small body was suddenly and violently propelled from the crawl space. Flying through the air, it crashed against a large rock and fell to the ground motionless.

--

[Turk Headquarters]

“Urgh!” Reeve growled, suddenly jumping up from his chair.

Tseng ran over to the table from across the room. “Director Tuesti!?” he exclaimed. “What’s wrong!?”

“Cait Sith was attacked,” he bemoaned, rubbing a hand over his face and returning to his seat.

“What condition is he in?” Tseng asked tensely.

“Hmmm.” The director hummed as he looked down at his control tablet, his eyes rapidly scanning the data he was receiving from the robot's diagnostics. “Not good, I’m afraid… I’m getting visuals, but none of my commands are going through to him. I can’t move.”

Tseng stepped around the table so that he could watch Reeve's screen over his shoulder. The camera angle they were receiving was skewed, indicative of the robot lying on its side. He could see the reactor ruins in the background, and occasionally he could catch a glimpse of Cissnei as she fought off a large insect-like monster. It must have been what attacked Cait Sith. Tseng tried to breathe a sigh of relief. At least she looked to be all right.

“Is he broken?” he dared to ask the director.

“It seems so…” Reeve muttered as he continued to fidget with the controls. “The drawbacks of a model unsuited for combat are great…”

“Cissnei! Cissnei! Come over here for a second.”

Tseng watched the Cissnei on the screen as Reeve called her over to the robot.

“Yes?” she said, her face filling the screen as she leaned over it. “Cait Sith! Cait Sith! …Are you broken? …Director Tuesti?”

 

Cissnei dropped to her knees and set the small robot on her lap. “Director Tuesti?” she called again and gave it a gentle shake. Her phone buzzed from her pocket. Fishing it out, she snatched it open and held it to her ear.

“Cissnei?” It was Reeve. “Cait Sith can no longer respond to my commands,” he reported.

Cissnei rocked back on her heels and stared down at the robot on her lap. “I see…” she replied with a hint of disappointment. Locating the materia just got a whole lot harder. She looked back towards the ruined reactor. The sight of it sent a shudder down her spine. She really didn't savor the idea of going back inside one of those things. “The materia is somewhere inside the reactor,” she told Reeve. “I was hoping that Cait Sith could get in and retrieve it.”

“Don’t lose hope just yet,” he told her.

She looked back down at the broken machine. “Do you have a plan?” she asked.

“Yes. I thought that something like this might happen,” he revealed. “Cait Sith isn't designed for combat. His internal mechanics are quite sensitive. There should be a reset switch under his crown. Simply lift it off and hold the button down for ten seconds. That should reboot his circuits and get him responding again.”

“Wonderful!” Cissnei exclaimed and set to work following his instructions.

The crown came off easily enough, and she quickly located the button. Pressing it down, she held it for ten seconds as instructed. When she released it, the robot jumped up in her arms and tumbled off her lap. Scrambling to its feet, she watched as it tested its limbs and swiveled its head in all directions.

“I did it!” she announced triumphantly.

“I am very grateful,” Reeve thanked her, once again taking control of his robot.

Climbing to her feet, Cissnei brushed off her knees and stood looking down at the robotic cat. “Now we can explore the inside of the reactor before anything worse happens,” she declared.

A short silence filled the other end of the line before Reeve spoke again. “…I’m sorry, but I have a board meeting that’s about to start,” he told her. “I won’t be able to control Cait Sith in the meantime. You will have to take control. Look inside the back of Cait Sith,” he directed. “There’s a backup controller in there.”

Suppressing her feelings of disappointment, she did as she was told and found the controller located in a small compartment in the cat’s back.

“I’ve found it,” she reported.

“All right, then, I leave him in your hands,” Reeve declared. “He is quite easy to maneuver. You'll get the hang of it in no time.”

Cissnei thanked him and disconnected the call. Lifting the controller, she tested him out. Much like a remote controlled car, all she had to do was choose a direction and go. Forward, backward, in a circle. No problem. Turning back towards the reactor, she commanded Cait Sith to follow and headed inside.

--

[Turk Headquarters]

Reeve set the controller on the table in front of him and lifted a hand to his chin, deep in thought. His puppet's fragility was a problem if he hoped to use it in the field on a regular basis.

How can I make up for Cait Sith’s weak point?

“Director Tuesti.”

That’s it. I can pair him up with a separate unit designed for combat.

“Sir!” Tseng shouted, suddenly appearing across the table from him.

“Y-Yes?” Reeve responded, rousing from his thoughts.

Tseng smiled and politely reminded him of his board meeting. “Please hurry to the conference room, sir.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he said, clapping his hands and rising quickly from the table. “I got caught up in a new idea of mine.” He returned Tseng's smile and placed Cait Sith's controller in his suit pocket and gave it a pat. “Well, I’ll be on my way then.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng saluted him with a tip of his head. “Take care.”

Reeve offered him a slight wave and headed for the door. Tseng watched him leave, following to the doorway of the control room. Leaning against the entrance, he folded his arms and stared at the opposite door as it closed after him. The director's assistance had been quite unexpected. Without Verdot’s suggestion, he admitted he never would’ve trusted the man. The executives were a den of snakes, every one of them. But Reeve might be different, and he'd take any help he could get at the moment. If the director could be their ally on the inside, then he was grateful.

“So Reeve has finally left.”

Tseng sighed at the disturbed quiet. “Yes. And it appears that he didn’t notice you,” he replied in a monotone expression without even turning to look at the Vice President.

“Seems so,” Rufus retorted resentfully as he leaned against the front of his cell. “What reason would he have to look? That lie you and the old man fabricated about me being on an extended business trip overseas covers all the bases.”

“Yes. No one would suspect that you’re being held here,” Tseng returned, hiding a hint of a smile.

For four years they had managed to keep Rufus's whereabouts a secret. No doubt his concealment was the only thing buying them precious time now. Rufus was the best leverage Tseng had for protecting his people. He hoped to keep it that way.

“Forget about that,” Rufus waved. “What did you think about Reeve’s machine?”

“I think it would be useful as a reconnaissance apparatus,” replied Tseng.

Rufus smiled ruefully. “I was thinking along the same lines…”

--

[Gongaga]

Cissnei ducked under the partially collapsed entryway and stepped inside the reactor. The interior was constructed entirely of metal, much like the one in Corel. The walls and floor were starting to show signs of rust. She wondered why Shinra hadn't tried to rebuild this one. Directly ahead was a second door that would lead to the interior. She crossed the small antechamber and stepped up to the sealed doorway. Caith Sith stopped at her feet and waited for her to proceed. She forced her fingertips into the narrow gap at the edge of the door and pulled, but it wouldn't slide. Stepping back with a disgruntled huff, she looked over at the nearby control panel. It was severely damaged. She wouldn’t be opening it that way, but, she reasoned, there ought to be a similar panel on the other side of the door.

Turning around, she quickly scanned the rest of the room. It was small, only about three by four meters in size. Several holes were wrought in the reactor's walls. One was right next to the door. It was too small for her to squeeze through. But she had a solution for that. Holding up Cait Sith's remote, she directed the small robot towards the passage. It looked like he would fit. With a grin of victory, she directed it inside.

As the robot disappeared from her line of sight, she switched on his visual component and watched the world through his eyes appear on the screen. When he emerged from the wall, she turned it left. The door was right there, along with the second control panel she was looking for. She set Cait Sith’s sights on it and sent him forward. As he reached up for the keypad, a warning began to flash across the top of the control screen, indicating that a biological presence had been detected nearby. Cait Sith turned automatically in search of the threat. Unable to do anything but watch, Cissnei looked on as the surroundings beyond the door scrolled across the screen until it stopped to focus in on a man coming down the hall towards them. He was dressed in black. One of Fuhito's Ravens.

AVALANCHE! They had to be searching for the materia too. “Cait Sith, you’re in danger!” she murmured anxiously. “We have to get you out of there–”

The Raven turned and seemed to take notice of the toy cat standing near the door watching him. Eyeing it curiously, he headed towards it.

“Cait Sith, open the door quick!” Cissnei cried on the other side.

The robotic cat glanced up at the control panel, but instead of reaching for it, he suddenly tipped over and hit the ground with a muted thud.

“Cait Sith what are you doing!?” Cissnei growled in a harsh panicked whisper.

With her eyes glued to the screen, she held her breath and watched as the Raven approached the motionless doll. His boots soon filled the screen as he came to stand over it. He nudged it with the toe of his boot. Seemingly satisfied – and to Cissnei's relief – he then turned away and headed back down the hall. At the end of it, he turned right and disappeared down a flight of steps heading deeper into the reactor.

As soon as he was gone, Cait Sith sprung back to life and jumped up to activate the control panel. The door slid open, and he stood looking up proudly at Cissnei. Crossing her arms, she looked down at it like a scolding parent.

“Maybe playing dead was overdoing it,” she warned him. “But it worked, so good job. Come on, let's go. Which way is the materia now?”

“Hmmmm,” Cait Sith focused, waving his paws and closing his eyes. “‘Tis that o'way,” he finally said, pointing towards a doorway on their left.

Cissnei ran towards it with Cait Sith on her heels. She had to hurry. She couldn't risk one of Fuhito's men beating her to the materia. Grabbing the door frame to help redirect her trajectory around the corner, she spun into the stairwell and nearly collided with a Raven. The man looked up at her, his face twisted in surprise. Moving on instinct, she hammered a fist into the man's right temple. He went limp and tumbled backwards down the stairs.

“Good hit, Lassie!” Cait Sith exclaimed from behind her.

“Thanks, but there's no time to celebrate,” she said as she started down the steps. “Those guys are after the materia, too.” At the bottom of the stairs, she jumped over the fallen soldier and looked down the long corridor stretched out before them. “Now which way?” she asked.

The robot pointed down the hall. “Straight ahead, then right.”

Following his instructions, she raced towards the end of the hall and made a hard right. Another hallway stretched out before them. To her relief, no other Ravens had appeared.

“Now what?” she panted.

Cait Sith skipped down the hall, pausing momentarily at each doorway or intersecting corridor he passed until he finally stopped at one and cried, “This one! This one!”

Cissnei joined him at the entrance to a new passage. She looked down it. The tunnel appeared to have collapsed about three meters in. A pile of debris – twisted metal and pipe mostly – filled the space from floor to ceiling.

“You're sure it’s in there?” she asked dubiously, looking down at the toy cat.

“Aye, Lassie, me predictions don't lie!” it assured her emphatically. “It's jist on te oth'r side o' this blockade.”

Cissnei examined the rubble. There weren't any spaces large enough to send Cait Sith through. Even if there were, there was no telling what else might be on the other side. It would be too dangerous to send him through alone. With no other options, she reached towards the top of the pile and grabbed hold of a rusted pipe. She gave it a stern yank and it came crashing down along with an avalanche of smaller debris.

“Watch out,” she warned her little partner as she dislodged another cascade of rubble.

She continued pulling out large pieces of debris until she had cleared a space wide enough at the top of the pile for herself to climb through. She waved Cait Sith over and scooped him up. Lifting him to the top, she ordered him through to the other side.

“Climb down carefully and wait for me,” she instructed. “If there's danger come back.”

“Yes, sir, Lassie!” he accepted his orders with a military salute and scurried through and down the other side.

Cissnei was already climbing up behind him as she heard him sliding down the other side. At the top, she pulled her torso through the opening and had no choice but to continue down the other side head first. She reached the floor rather ungracefully, but she had made it. Dusting herself off, she looked around for Cait Sith, but didn't see him.

“I told you to wait!” she called out, her voice echoing back to her in the empty corridor.

Up the hall, the renegade cat came trotting around the corner. It was triumphantly holding up a glowing translucent sphere in one paw.

“I found it!” he announced, waving it excitedly over his head.

Cissnei’s eyes locked on to it as she clapped in matched enthusiasm. “Good work!” she cheered.

Her praises were soon overshadowed by unnerving laughter echoing up the hall behind Cait Sith. Three Ravens appeared in the hallway behind him, running right towards them.

“Behind you!” she shouted as she sprinted towards the robot herself.

Cait Sith froze. Turning to face the three approaching men, he cradled the materia in both paws and clamped it tightly against his chest.

“Hand it over,” one of them demanded.

“Don't you touch him!” Cissnei threatened as she drew closer.

One of the men lunged for him then. Cait Sith tried to run, but he was snatched around the waist and lifted off his feet.

“Put mae down, ya meanie!” the toy demanded as it squirmed and kicked out at its captor.

While the one Raven held him firmly around the torso, another pried his paws apart and wrenched the materia from his grasp.

“Hey, that's not yours!” Cait Sith protested loudly.

The man only laughed and signaled for his comrade to dispose of the talking cat. With a powerful swing, the Raven launched the robot at Cissnei and took off down the hall after his companions. Cissnei spread her arms to catch him as he collided against her chest with enough force to knock her to the ground. Lying on her back, she felt Cait Sith careful climb off of her and grab her hand.

“Are ye okay, Lassie?” he asked. “I'm terribly sorry about that.”

She sat up, absently rubbing at her sore breast bone. Looking down the hall, she saw the last Raven disappear around a corner.

“He took the materia!” she cried, jumping to her feet and sprinting after them.

“Wait fer me!” Cait Sith called, trotting along after her.

As she neared the corner, she heard a man's scream shortly before a body shot into hallway ahead of her, leaving a trail of dissipating smoke behind it. The Raven hit the wall in front of her hard enough to cave it in before collapsing to the floor. Cissnei slid to a halt and stared at the smoldering body.

“Long time no see.”

Cissnei whirled around to look up the other corridor, searching for the source of the familiar voice. “Shears!?” she cried.

The former AVALANCHE soldier stood directly behind her, arms crossed. His eyes sparkled with mischief from beneath the shaggy bangs protruding from under his bandana. He offered her a good-hearted smirk as he warned, “You really shouldn't let them just waltz off with our important materia.”

“Shears, you survived!” she blurted, too astounded to say anything else. Then, in a moment of uncontrolled relief, she threw her arms around him in a grateful embrace.

“Well…” he stammered, clearly shocked by her unexpected display of appreciation.

Catching herself, she quickly withdrew to arm's length and said sheepishly, “I really thought you had died back then.”

“I thought I was a goner, too,” he agreed, rubbing the back of his neck as he searched for more words. “But after I got you out, someone came back and rescued me as well.”

He looked back over his shoulder. Cissnei followed his gaze and gasped.

“Sir! You…?”

“That’s right,” Shears confirmed, following her gaze to look at Verdot as well. “He’s the one who saved me. Now the two of us are working together to find a way to save Elfe.”

“I see,” Cissnei said, piecing the story together. “So that’s how you knew about Elfe’s materia, sir.”

Verdot nodded solemnly as he came to join them. Stepping beside Shears, he placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “There is a lot I have learned thanks to Shears,” he told Cissnei. “I also know what happened to my daughter after we were separated.”

Shears held the new found materia up for all of them to see. “This makes two materia that we’ve got. If we can find the other two, we can save Elfe.”

“We know Fuhito has one of them,” Cissnei reminded them, thinking back to the encounter with him at the Shinra Manor in Nibelheim.

Shears nodded, but Verdot stood silently beside him. A frown deepened the wrinkles on his forehead as he stared at the materia in Shears' hand.

“Sir?” Cissnei asked, her voice laced with concern.

“…Cissnei,” he began hesitantly. “There is something you should know… About what will happen when all four of the materia are gathered together.”

“Verdot?” Shears said in a cautionary tone.

Cissnei looked from one man to the other. “Won’t Elfe be saved?” she ventured.

Verdot nodded slowly, still keeping his eyes on the precious materia. “My daughter will indeed be saved…” He seemed reluctant to continue.

Shears cleared his throat next to him. “But at the same time… the summon will be released,” he revealed gravely.

“The summon?” Cissnei repeated, her eyes wide. “The one that will reduce the entire world to ashes? THAT summon?”

“Yes,” Verdot freely admitted. “That is why I am still hesitating.”

“If summoned, Zirconiade will burn away everything. This was the original purpose of Elfe’s materia,” Shears continued. “However, it’s been damaged – it is incomplete and can’t call the summon on its own. If left alone, the summon won’t initialize and the world will be safe. But, because it’s damaged, it’s compensating by draining Elfe’s life force. If we just leave things the way they are, it’ll keep draining away her life until there’s nothing left for her to give. She’ll die.”

“Is there no way to remove the materia from Elfe?” Cissnei asked, grasping for a solution, any solution.

Shears and Verdot both shook their heads. “No,” Shears told her, sounding angry. “That’s why we’re looking for a different way of summoning it.”

Cissnei looked at him with arched eyebrows. “How?” she demanded.

“The materia we are looking for,” Shears explained. “With them, we can summon Zirconiade without using Elfe’s. They are its support materia. They will compensate for Elfe’s incomplete materia. With all five of them in one place, the summoning can be carried out, as they will allow Elfe’s materia to activate. And once Zirconiade has been summoned, Elfe won’t be in danger anymore.”

Cissnei shook her head in confusion. “Even if you could save Elfe, it would still mean the end of the world. You said–”

Shears held up a hand to stop her. “Just hear me out. If summoned this way with the support materia, Zirconiade will be imperfect. And without the four support materia in place, the summon can’t be sustained. By destroying them after the summoning, we’ll have a chance of taking down Zirconiade.”

“In other words… If we can summon an incomplete form of Zirconiade, you can save Elfe and we can defeat the summon before it destroys the world,” Cissnei concluded, not sounding too thrilled with the prospect.

“It’s dangerous,” Shears conceded, “but it’s the only way.”

“The risk is far too great,” Verdot declared, sounding weary. “How could I put the entire world in danger for the sake of my daughter? The world will be safe if we can stop Fuhito from getting these two materia. Even if it means giving up my daughter. We are not worth the kind of danger we would be calling down.”

Cissnei looked at the Chief. Her heart broke for him, seeing him in such torment. No one should have to sacrifice their child at any price.

“Sir, there’s no reason why Elfe should have to die for the sake of the Planet,” she pleaded.

“Cissnei…” He was prepared to argue.

“We have a way to save her!” Shears intervened. “We’ve just got to go for broke. There’s no other choice!”

Verdot shook his head. They were offering him hope that he didn't dare take. He had to put an end to it. “Shears…”

“No. He’s right,” Cissnei protested, looking at him with more intensity than he could remember ever seeing in her before. “We’re Turks. We’ll always succeed, no matter how difficult the mission is. We’ll help you save your daughter.”

Verdot closed his eyes and shook his head again slowly, muttering “’We’ll always succeed, no matter how difficult the mission’ eh?” He lifted his gaze to look Cissnei in the eye. “You’re right. Let’s do it. Thanks to you I’ve finally been able to make up my mind.”

“Good. Then it's time for action,” Shears announced.

Heading back up the tunnel, he led the Turks out of the reactor. It was decided that Cissnei would return to headquarters while they deduced the location of the last support materia. Verdot and Shears would work towards the same goal as well and monitor Fuhito's movements as much as possible. When the time came, they would convene on the location of the last materia together.

When they had dispersed, an infantryman emerged from the shadows of the ruined reactor. He hadn’t been close enough to hear what was being said, but the situation was clear. He recognized the disgraced leader of the Turks immediately. Verdot was indeed working together with the Turks. Lifting his radio, he called for Director Scarlet.

--

[President's Office, Shinra Building]

“Damn those Turks!” President Shinra railed, crumbling the report in his hands and chasing the infantryman from the room. If only they didn’t have Rufus locked up inside their headquarters… he seethed. He could not allow the executives to find out about his son’s indiscretions. If the Turks talked… That’s it… I’ll order Scarlet to eliminate those blasted Turks! With them out of the way, there would be no risk of the truth getting out, nor would there be any problems with taking Rufus back.

With a snarl twisting his face, he snatched the phone from its cradle on his desk and dialed the Department of Weapons Development.

“Scarlet!” he shouted into the receiver. “I’m giving you full authorization to use any means at your disposal. I want every single one of the Turks dead!”

Chapter 51: 21: Resolve to Reach the End, part 1

Notes:

More timeline notes for those interested: In the time between the previous chapter and this one, Zack's last stand occurs outside Midgar. Zack's death occurs near the end of September and this chapter begins October 1.

[1 October 0007]

[Turk Headquarters]

Tseng sat quietly at his desk, hands folded in the air in front of him and eyes focused on… nothing. They had failed. He had dispatched every man he had available and diverted every resource they could spare, and still they had failed to take Zack into custody. If only the SOLDIER had trusted them, though he couldn't blame him for choosing not to. Maybe if he had approached Zack himself, maybe then he would've listened. Surely he still had the man's trust. Or maybe not. Did Zack really have any reason to trust him? A Turk? No, probably not. Not that it mattered now. Zack was dead – a failure that laid heavily in his hands.

Cissnei, too, seemed to be taking it especially hard, even if she refused to show it. She was in the briefing room with him now, sitting on the black leather sofa with one elbow on the armrest and her chin in her hand. She was looking at a report on her lap, but he could see that her eyes were not moving across the document. They were still, lost in thought on some other matter.

To Tseng's left, he glanced at the last screen on his row of monitors. It offered a view of Rufus Shinra's holding cell. Though “cell” was hardly the word for the affluent accommodations provided to the Vice President while in their custody. For the last four years, they'd succeeded in keeping the young man sequestered in the holding cell disguised as a room, although lately he had been allowed short excursions about their headquarters. However, he was never out of Tseng's sight when doing so. At the moment, the young heir to the company was pacing the length of his room, approaching the screen with a look of amusement evident in his icy blue eyes. Stepping up to the monitor, he pressed the call button and summoned Tseng's attention.

“Tseng,” he called as his handsome young face filled the screen.

With a sigh, Tseng turned on his end of the feed so that Rufus could address him and faced the camera with a dark brooding glare that suggested this call had better be worthy of his time. Rufus met his gaze with a taunting grin.

“Here’s an interesting tidbit for you,” the Vice President proceeded. “AVALANCHE is up to something in Corel Prison.” Then, falling silent, he sat back to await the Turk's reaction.

Tseng stared back into the monitor, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “The desert prison surrounded by quicksand?” he asked with a bite of sarcasm.

Rufus nodded once while failing to discipline the amused uptick at one corner of his mouth. “That’s the one,” he confirmed.

“It is said to be impossible to escape from,” the Turk scoffed and returned his attention to some unfinished paperwork on the other end of his desk. “I don’t see what they would gain from breaking in there.”

Rufus lifted one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “They’re certainly putting a lot of effort into it,” he said, his voice filled with mock curiosity. “Isn’t there anything that comes to mind?”

Tseng turned back to the screen, making no effort to conceal his irritation with the trying young man. Of course something came to mind, but he made sure his expression made it clear that he did not trust him on the subject.

In the midst of their exchange, Cissnei had risen from the sofa and made her way up the desk. Coming around it, she stopped behind Tseng's chair with arms folded and joined him in staring at the Vice President. She didn't appear convinced either.

“Tseng, the Vice President has been here with us the entire tire,” she pointed out while fixing Rufus with a skeptical glare. “How is it that he still knows about AVALANCHE’s movements?”

“His room is equipped with top Shinra technology,” Tseng replied, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms tightly over his chest while not once removing his eyes from Rufus. “It was prepared at the orders of the President. And he retains his presidential access to the Shinra network. He can keep track of what happens across the world in real time.”

“It means that I’m still on track for wresting the company from my father,” Rufus added with a haughty sneer. “The old man seems to have overlooked this.”

Tseng swiveled his chair away from the monitor and turned to face Cissnei. With his back to Rufus, his expression softened slightly. “Cissnei, AVALANCHE may have found the whereabouts of the last materia,” he conceded quietly and ordered, “Get over there as quickly as you can.”

“Understood.” Cissnei nodded to Tseng and cast Rufus a parting glance before heading out the door and making her way to one of their stashed helicopters.

* * * * * * *

[Corel Prison]

Corel Prison was located south of the village of Corel in the middle of a vast desert nestled between two mountain ranges on the western continent. Many of planet's worst criminals were often sentenced there and left to die. In reality, it was less like a prison and more like a place of exile. There were no guards to keep people in, only a harsh, unforgiving and uncrossable desert. Most people would rather live miserably within the prison than suffer the consequences of an escape that was guaranteed to end with their slow agonizing death in the hellish heat of the surrounding desert.

Cissnei set her helicopter down in the said desert's pale sands north of the prison. She dared not park it too close, lest an escapee reach it and attempt to hijack a ride while she was away. Her goal was to reach the prison on foot by nightfall. It meant crossing the sand during the hottest part of the day, but it would also provide her the cover of darkness for her infiltration and planned escape.

Lifting the binoculars to her eyes she scanned the horizon. She could just make out the high fences surrounding the compound beyond a countless sea of shifting dunes. The expanse of desert between her and it was completely barren and motionless save for the windblown sands. There was no AVALANCHE activity that she could see, but she hadn't really expected to confront any so soon. The prison was vast and the surrounding desert even more so. If Fuhito had enough information to send his troops here, then he likely knew where to narrow his search. Her plan was to locate the troops and stalk them until they found the materia. Then, with any luck, she would take it from them before they made their escape.

With that plan in mind, Cissnei set out from the helicopter headed south towards the prison. The sun was indeed hot as it blazed overhead, as well as reflecting its heat back up off the crystals of fine sand that crunched underfoot. An hour into her trek, she was loosening her tie and unbuttoning her jacket. She considered shedding the black jacket all together, but knew she would want it after the sun set. Deserts were notorious for scorching one during the day before freezing them stiff at night. So she wiped the sweat from her brow and continued on, occasionally scanning the surrounding desert with her binoculars.

During her third sweep with the binoculars, she spotted what appeared to be a person lying in the sand about one hundred meters southwest of her position. An escaped prisoner, most likely. Still, she quickened her pace and set off towards the unconscious person. About halfway, she lifted the binoculars again. She could see now that it was a woman. Putting the glasses away, she ran the rest of the way and dropped to her knees in the sand at the woman's side. She was younger than she expected of a prisoner of Corel, with auburn hair that was a similar shade to her own and a pair of glasses balanced precariously on the tip of her nose. Her small chest rose and fell steadily, indicating life. Cissnei let out a sigh of relief and brushed the woman's hair away from her forehead. Her skin was pale and clammy. How could anyone feel so cold in a sweltering desert?

Cissnei patted her face gently. “Hey! Wake up!” she called.

When the woman didn't respond, she took hold of her wrist and pressed her fingertips to the vein at the base of her thumb. Her pulse was very faint.

“This is bad…” she mumbled. The woman's breathing was shallow and erratic. That, coupled with the weak pulse and cold skin indicated severe dehydration – hardly a surprise in this environment. There was no telling how long the woman had been out there. She needed water, which was unfortunately a rare commodity in the desert. At the very least, Cissnei could get her into some shade. There was a cluster of large boulders not too far away. It was in the opposite direction of the prison, but Cissnei couldn't just leave the woman to die, even if she was an escaped prisoner. Scooping the woman up, she hefted her over her shoulder and set out for the shade of the boulders.

* * *

[Shinra Conference Room]

Director Scarlet pushed open the doors to the conference room and sauntered inside. Her sultry gaze swept up the length of the table, taking note of the congregation of other directors gathered there – all except for Tseng, the head of the disgraced Turks. She didn’t mind though. The cunning man had inherited his position from the banished Verdot by sheer fortune of circumstance. For that, she had always found the stoic young man’s presence among them insufferable.

As she made her entrance, every head in the room turned in her direction. Heidegger, Palmer, Hojo, Tuesti, and the President himself. Dressed in one of her typical form-fitting business gowns, she glided into the room and came to stand at the end of the table opposite President Shinra. Placing one perfectly manicured hand on the back of the chair stationed there, she placed the other on her hip and chose to remain standing. Her heavily painted eyes swept past the men in the room and settled on the President. A perverted smile lifted her glossy lips.

“Good news, Mr. President,” she greeted a little too joyously.

“Ah, Scarlet,” he welcomed, smiling back expectantly. “How is everything going?”

She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him and announced, “I’ve managed to track down Verdot.”

A hum of satisfaction vibrated in President Shinra's chest. “Is that so? Well done,” he purred, then, “You know what to do.”

“Just leave everything to me, sir,” she assured the President with a self-conceited smile. Then, trailing her delicate fingers over the back of the chair she turned back towards the door and stalked from the room, heels clacking and hips swaying, well aware of every eye watching her.

Continuing down the polished tile corridor, she crossed the small lobby and entered the waiting elevator being held for her by one of her men. Stepping on board, the trooper followed her inside and pressed the button for the 45th Floor, Weapons Development. When the doors chimed open, Scarlet stepped off into her domain, her own little kingdom within Shinra. Passing quickly through the boring office area, she placed her hand on a biosecured door and entered the military staging zone. The large space resembled a warehouse with stockpiles of Shinra's top technologically advanced weapons systems. It was a showcase of her life's work. A parade of predesignated equipment was already being loaded onto three awaiting military helicopters. She approached the band of infantrymen under her command, and they all jumped to attention at her presence.

“Listen up, men,” she announced when she had their undivided attention. “Make this mission a success, no matter what it takes. If we can pull this one off, Arms Development will get a bigger budget. Any way you do it is fine. However, failure will not be tolerated. There’s no need to hold back, so make it loud and flashy!”

The men saluted her and then continued making the necessary preparations for their departure. Scarlet was anxious to get in the air, so they hurried.

* * *

[Corel Desert]

A sharp pain throbbed behind the woman's eyes, and her tongue felt too thick to talk. Her skin felt hot, undoubtedly burned by the desert sun. With great effort, she managed to open her swollen eyes a crack. She tried to look around, but her vision wasn't cooperating. The air around her felt cooler. Perhaps it was night? She hoped so. She laid there a moment longer before a soft moan escaped her lips.

“Where am I…?” she muttered to herself.

“Hey!” An unexpected voice startled her from her right. “How are you feeling?”

Forcing her eyes open further, she managed to turn her head towards the voice. A young woman with wavy auburn hair was kneeling next to her, her brow wrinkled in concern. Below the face was a white collar bound by a loosened black tie layered beneath a black suit jacket. She recognized the Turk uniform immediately and shut her eyes again, grimacing. A Turk was the last person she wanted to see here. What were the odds of running into one in this vast expanse of desert? To run into anyone was a surprise, but a Turk?

“We’re below the desert,” the Turk told her, answering her previous question. “I thought that it would be cooler inside the cave.”

“Wh-Why?” the woman managed in a hoarse whisper without looking at her.

“I found you passed out in the dessert. I wasn’t just going to leave you to die… I’m Cissnei.”

The woman didn't respond.

“Just wait here a moment,” Cissnei told her. “I’m going to go look for some water.”

The woman still didn't reply but was listening as Cissnei's footsteps retreated away from her deeper into the cave they were supposedly in.

Cissnei was sure she'd heard the echo of trickling water when they first entered the cave. Stilling her breathing, she strained her ears and listened for it again. She wished she had Cait Sith with her now. He would be able to lead her right to it, she thought, and he could locate the materia, too, while he was at it. But they hadn't had the time to track down Director Tuesti and secure the mechanical cat. She was on her own this time.

Fortunately, the cave didn't run too deep, and she was able to proceed by following her ears. Rounding a bend in the tunnel, she discovered the spring. A small pool fed by a trickle of clear cold water gathered on the cave floor on the other side of a small cramped chamber. As she made her way over to it, she withdrew her binoculars and unscrewed the protective cap off one of the lenses. Using it as a cup, she knelt beside the pool and dipped it into the cool water. She lifted the cap to her lips and took a drink. It was refreshingly cool and tasted surprisingly sweet. She returned the cup to the pool and filled it again, then, with the precious water in hand, she hurried back to the woman. As expected, she was still lying where she had left her.

Hearing her approach, the woman tried to sit up. Pressing the heel of her palm into the rough rock floor beneath her, she pushed, lifting herself only enough to get an elbow beneath her. Seeing her struggle, Cissnei dropped to her knees next to her, carefully set down the cup of water, and helped pull the woman up into a comfortable sitting position leaning against the cave wall.

“Here,” she said, picking up the cup and placing it in her hands. “Drink up.”

The woman seemed reluctant to do so, but she finally raised the cup to her lips and was soon eagerly gulping the small amount of water in contained. When she was done, she shoved the empty vessel towards Cissnei without so much as a thank you.

“Looks like you’re feeling better,” Cissnei praised. “You’ll be back on your feet in no time. I'll get you some more water.”

The woman muttered something. Cissnei thought it had been, “Don't bother,” but before she could ask, a cacophony of footsteps echoed through the cave behind them. Cissnei tensed. Footsteps meant people, a rare species in the desert and unlikely to be good.

“Wait here,” she whispered to the woman as she rose silently to her feet and left to investigate.

Following the sounds took her deeper into the tunnel. At a split in the corridor, she heard more steps behind her and ducked behind a large boulder along the side of the tunnel. From her hiding place, she saw a Raven run by. She watched him disappear around a bend in the tunnel before starting out from around the boulder after him. Before she reached the bend, a blood-curdling scream stopped her in her tracks. It had come from the direction the Raven had gone. Steeling her nerves and drawing her weapon, she ran towards the disturbing sounds.

Rounding the corner, she came upon a rather unpleasant sight. Two Ravens laid dead as though thrown haphazardly across the cave floor. A third man was clamped in the jaws of a large land worm, a monster as long as three men were tall and with a circular mouth lined in razor sharp teeth. Cissnei ducked back around the corner and listened as the man's screams came to a sudden halt. Peering back around the rock, she watched the worm give the Raven a final shake before withdrawing back into its hole in the floor of the cave and dragging the man underground with it.

Cissnei remained frozen, staring at the point where the man's legs had disappeared from sight. Before the monster had time to resurface, Cissnei turned to leave. As she did, a shimmering object caught her eye. It was balanced on the lip of the worm's hole. She knew immediately that it was the materia. The Raven had probably dropped it. How fortunate she was that the worm hadn't swallowed it.

Without taking her eyes off of the entrance to the hole, she tiptoed cautiously around the bodies of the other two Ravens as she made her way towards it. Stopping two feet away from the menacing hole, she listened for movement from within. Hearing nothing, she stretched out her hand, quickly snatched the materia from the rim, and backpedaled away from the scene. Once she was clear across the room, she looked down at the rare shimmering sphere in her hand.

With it now in her possession, that meant Fuhito only had one while they had three. All that remained was to get the fourth from Fuhito. Having obtained that which she'd come for, it was time to get out. There would undoubtedly be more Ravens where those three had come from. Shoving the materia securely in her pocket, she ran back up the tunnel to where she'd left the woman.

* * *

Three more Ravens entered the cave system from the eastern end, navigating the tunnels until they came upon the scene of their dead comrades. The captain held up a hand to stop his procession of troops as his eyes swept the area. With a wave of his hand, he sent one of his men to check the bodies. This decimated unit had called in earlier to report they'd obtained the materia. Eyeing the land worm hole, the captain surmised what had happened and turned his gaze back to one of his troopers as he turned over the second of their fallen comrades and began the process of checking his pockets. Coming up empty handed, he looked back up at the captain with a scowl.

The captain matched his expression as he glanced between the two dead Ravens and the worm hole and ordered, “The materia is gone. Find it.”

His men all nodded in unison and spread out to search the cave, one even going down the worm hole in search of the precious materia. They all knew that returning to Fuhito without it was not an option.

* * *

“Hey, wake up,” Cissnei said tensely, dropping to her knees next to the woman.

In response, her eyes flickered open and glared over at Cissnei from behind her smudged glasses. She looked resentful.

“Can you move?” Cissnei asked hurriedly, ignoring the unfriendly look.

Without a word, the woman stood up. Keeping one hand on the cave wall to steady herself, she took a couple of steps without looking at Cissnei, though she could feel the Turk's gaze on her face. “This is nothing,” she snapped, her voice filled with disdain. “Don’t expect me to thank you. I never asked for your help in the first place.” She then pushed her way past the Turk, bumping her shoulder as she did so. She had a slight limp.

“Hey! Wait a second!” Cissnei protested, following her towards the cave's entrance. “What's your problem?”

“…I have something I have to do,” she said without pausing. “I don’t have any time to waste here. And I don’t need your help. Now leave me alone.”

“No way,” Cissnei told her as she watched the woman struggle to even walk properly. “How do you plan to get out of here in the state you’re in?” she pointed out.

The woman's shoulders tensed as she paused with her hand on the cave wall, but said nothing in response. She knew Cissnei was right, and the thought only made her angrier.

“Come on,” Cissnei invited, offering her a hand. “We're not far from the mountains. Let me at least get you that far.”

The woman didn't agree to the proposal, but Cissnei didn't hear her refuse either. Checking her pocket one more time to verify that the materia was secure, she stepped past her and headed for the mouth of the cave. Though the woman never said anything to her, she could hear her shuffling footsteps behind her. As they emerged from among the boulders, a powerful gust of wind blasted them with shards of rock and sand. They both instinctively lifted their arms to shield their faces.

“A sandstorm of all things…” the woman moaned.

“We have to keep going,” Cissnei urged. “I don't have time to wait it out.”

Despite the risk of blindly wandering the desert, Cissnei led them out from the cave and headed in the direction she hoped was north. The storm had blocked out the setting sun so that she could not use it for navigation. She would have to make do without it.

Chapter 52: 21: Resolve to Reach the End, part 2

After nearly two hours of hiking, they appeared to reach the edge of the storm at the base of the mountains. The air had cleared, opening up the sky to a blood-red sunset.

“We made it,” Cissnei panted, pausing to survey their surroundings and brush a layer of sand from her sleeves. Bending over, she shook more of the gritty particles from her auburn waves and wiped her face clean.

They were nowhere near her helicopter, but it was probably buried in sand by now anyway. Her best hope now was to reach a point on the mountain where her phone could get a signal and call Tseng. She removed the phone from her jacket pocket and checked for a signal. Nothing yet. With a sigh, she returned it to the clip on her belt and looked up the mountain. Maybe she'd get a better signal up there…

A mirthless laugh stopped her train of thought. She spun around as the unwelcome sound of laughter echoed around them. Coming towards them from the desert, following in their footsteps, was a small group of Ravens. Positioning herself between them and the woman, Cissnei ordered her to stay back.

“They would seem to hold a grudge against you,” the woman observed, her tone as biting as usual. “Why might that be?”

“No idea,” Cissnei quipped over her shoulder. “Must be my job.”

“Oh, so you freely admit it,” the woman snapped with disgust. Stepping up close behind Cissnei she drew a pistol from her skirt pocket and jabbed it in the small of her back. “Don’t move,” she hissed in her ear.

Cissnei's shoulders stiffened when she felt the gun. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I’m another one of your victims,” the woman shouted angrily as the Ravens came closer. “Or, more precisely, a victim of the Turks.”

“How so?” Cissnei questioned, keeping her voice level.

“My name is Shalua,” the woman said, finally introducing herself. “And I will never forget those black suits. The devils in them are the ones that ripped my family apart.”

“What do you mean?” Cissnei asked calmly as she eyed the Ravens and grasped for a way to get the situation back under control. If she could keep Shalua talking, it might buy her some time, or at least a distraction.

“They said she had potential to become a SOLDIER and took her away,” she hissed.

Taken away? “You mean she was a SOLDIER candidate?” Cissnei asked.

“I call it kidnapping,” Shalua retorted as she pressed the pistol's muzzle deeper into Cissnei's back. “I’ve been looking for her ever since, first in Midgar and then all over the world. I’ve fought Shinra time and time again and suffered countless wounds for it. Now! Tell me! Where do you hide the people you kidnap!?”

Who was she talking about? Shalua looked too young to have a daughter. A sister perhaps? Whoever it was, it didn't matter.

“I–I…. I can’t say,” Cissnei insisted.

The Ravens were much too close now, forcing Cissnei to take a step back into Shalua's gun. Before she could protest, she felt the gun ease away from her back. The release was unexpected, prompting her to dare a glance over her shoulder at Shalua. The woman had turned her back to Cissnei to face more Ravens that had circled around behind them.

“Lay off,” she ordered them with a wave of her pistol. “I was with AVALANCHE once, too. I’ve got nothing to do with the Turks.”

Cissnei heard one of the Ravens behind her laugh in response. Shifting her gaze back to Shalua, she drilled her back with a narrow-eyed glare. “So you used to be with AVALANCHE…” she snarled.

“I joined to gather information on SOLDIER,” Shalua retorted. “I don’t endorse all of their views.”

At that, Cissnei gave a skeptical snort. “So that’s how it is,” she scoffed. “But these people won’t listen to a word you say,” she warned her. “The AVALANCHE you knew is gone.”

Shalua looked back at the Ravens closing in around both of them indiscriminately. She didn't recognize any of them; and their eyes appeared empty, almost hollow. “What do you mean?” she asked, her bravado sounding slightly shaken.

“They’re nothing but Fuhito’s puppets now,” Cissnei told her.

Shalua looked from Cissnei to the nearest Raven, her brow wrinkled with skepticism. “But how–”

One of the Ravens lunged at her. Drawing her own pistol, Cissnei ducked around her to place herself between them.

“Get behind me!” she ordered protectively as she fired a shot into the man's chest. The Raven absorbed the bullet and dropped silently into the sand.

“Why are you helping me?” Shalua demanded, anger rising in her voice once again. “I’ll never forgive the Turks.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Cissnei admitted quietly. “I’m a Turk. We’re involved in a lot of dirty business. It’s only natural that people would hate us. But just because someone hates us doesn’t mean that I hate them.”

A second wave of Ravens arrived and formed another layer around them. The two women stood back to back in the circle of Ravens. Even with their two pistols, Cissnei knew they wouldn't be able to shoot their way out.

“There are too many of them,” Shalua growled. “We don’t stand a chance like this.”

“Get down!” a man's voice shouted over them.

“What–!?”

A bright light erupted around them, accompanied by the smell of smoke. A flash grenade had exploded on either side of them. Turning to Shalua, Cissnei threw her arms around her and pulled her down to the sand as the sounds of a skirmish echoed all around them. As the haze began to clear, Cissnei looked up to see every Raven lying scattered on the ground around them. Her eyes jumped from one man to another until they reached the only two still standing at the edge of the carnage. There, she spotted Shears and Verdot.

“Sir!” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet.

Behind her, Shalua slowly got herself up and brushed the sand from her left arm. Then, stepping out from behind Cissnei, she stared at the two men. Her eyes settled first on Verdot, then shifted to the younger man. She studied him with narrowed eyes before finally asking, “Shears?”

Shears stared back at the woman standing next to Cissnei. Her straight auburn hair was swept across pale blue eyes that stared back at him from behind a pair of sand-freckled glasses. “Shalua!” he exclaimed as his mouth ticked up in a smirk. “It’s been awhile. How’re you holding up?”

“See for yourself,” she told him and raised her arms to show herself off. “No problems whatsoever. Those underground docs live up to their reputation.”

Shears' gaze swept her up and down. “Yeah. It’s like those wounds never happened,” he congratulated her. “Anyway, you want out of here?”

Shalua's grin turned to a pout as she folded her arms tightly. “Of course. But when did you become friends with the Turks?” she asked suspiciously.

Shears let out a heavy puff of breath. “I’ve got my reasons…”

“Shears…” Verdot interrupted. “It’s too dangerous here. You two can catch up on things later. Leave everything here to me and escort the young lady to safety.”

“I hear you,” the man saluted, then turned to Shalua and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”

With a nod, she took his hand and turned back to Cissnei. “You may not have been the ones who took my family away from me,” she told her. “Still. I’ll never forgive you people!”

She then cast a look of scrutiny at Verdot as well before following after Shears. He had been head of the Turks for a long time. She no doubt recognized him, even if he no longer wore the uniform.

Cissnei and Verdot watched the two of them disappear up a mountain path. When they had gone, Cissnei turned her eyes to the Chief. “Sir, aren’t you going to ask–?”

“There’s no need to,” he stopped her with a raised hand. “I can guess. That’s the kind of work we Turks do. We knew what we were doing when we signed up, every one of us.”

“Of course,” Cissnei agreed with a nod.

Suddenly the ground beneath their feet began to rumble.

“What?” Cissnei asked.

She followed Verdot's gaze over her shoulder and turned to face the source of the commotion. Three large cannon-bearing tanks rolled towards them, their treads clinking loudly over the desert rock. A tall blonde woman, overdressed in red heels, stalked towards them in front of the army line, looking disgustingly out of place.

“I finally found you,” Scarlet crooned mirthlessly.

--

[Turk Headquarters]

Tseng!” Rufus called through his cell's intercom. “Bad news.”

Tseng barely looked up from his work as he cast the screen an irritated side-eyed glance. Setting down his pen, he turned his chair to face Rufus and crossed his arms as he listened to the Vice President's bait. “What do you mean?” he asked dryly.

“The army has cornered Cissnei,” the Vice President told him with an air of arrogance at knowing something the Turk did not. “Scarlet is personally commanding the troops.”

Tseng covered his sudden concern with his persistent scowl and replied in a level tone, “Even so, the Turks and the army are technically still on the same side. I am sure that they won’t do anything rash.”

Rufus scoffed at this. “Hmph. As long as I’m in here, the old man can’t lay as much as a finger on you Turks,” he assured Tseng. Then the glint in his eye shifted as he added, “However… Verdot is there too.”

A burst of scorching heat and frigid ice exploded in Tseng's chest, and his cemented scowl faltered. “The Chief is there!?” he exclaimed. This is not good. Cissnei could not let the army see her helping him.

“Those two are in the worst possible situation right now,” Rufus confirmed, head tilted to the side in amusement. Behind his shag of blond hair, his icy blue eyes twinkled with arrogance. “If the old man gets his hands on Verdot, it’s over for the Turks.”

“Indeed,” Tseng reluctantly admitted. “Veld’s life will be used as leverage against us.”

“Yes. Either way, the old man will dispose of Verdot once he has what he wants,” warned Rufus.

Tseng knew the Vice President was right. Deciding he'd heard enough, he turned away from the monitor and rose abruptly from his chair. “We have to save them,” he muttered.

“How do you propose to do that?” Rufus demanded at his back.

Tseng withdrew his pistol from his shoulder holster and checked the magazine before retrieving a spare from his desk drawer. “I'll go to Corel Prison myself,” he explained as he slammed the drawer shut.

“It’s futile,” Rufus taunted him. “Even if you left now, you won't make it in time.”

“That won’t stop me from going,” Tseng persisted.

Rounding his desk, he strode from the room. As soon as he was out of the Vice President's sight, Tseng, Head of the Turks, broke into a dead sprint, blazing his way through the Shinra Building, all stealth cast aside. Bursting into the stairwell, he took the stairs to the roof two at a time and rushed for the nearest helicopter, taking out three infantrymen as he went. Within a minute of reaching the rooftop helipad, he was airborne and streaking west towards Corel Prison.

--

[Corel Desert]

“Scarlet.” Verdot said the name as though it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Scarlet's rouge covered lips turned up in apparent pleasure at how he formed her name, and her heavily shadowed eyes admired the former Director of the Turks from a distance as she sauntered a few steps closer and came to a stop. “I’ve been looking for you,” she said with an uncouth playfulness to her voice. “You’ve really given me a hard time. Allow me to return the favor.”

Lifting a hand into the air, she crooked a bejeweled finger to her men and the army behind her sent forth two large attack mechs, the latest in Shinra technology. The Chief protectively herded Cissnei behind him as they stomped towards them.

“These are my latest creations,” Scarlet introduced them with a proud smirk twisting her lips. “They’ll burn both you and your Turk to a crisp. You’ll be a pile of ashes before you can even think to scream.”

“Chief!” Cissnei protested his protective posture. She couldn't let the army see her cooperating with him. He couldn't be protecting her like this. She should be the one taking him into custody.

Ignoring her plea, the Chief raised his prosthetic arm and unleashed a volley of fireballs at the two mechs, incinerating them where they stood.

“A waste of time,” Verdot warned Scarlet. He turned his eyes to her. Surely she realized he could just as easily do the same to her if he so chose.

Perhaps realizing this, her confident sneer faded into a look of seething, snarling rage. Spinning to face her troops, she let loose a volley of curses and screamed, “What are you doing?! Keep firing! Attack!”

Her men sent out two more mechs which Verdot promptly blasted. After his display of inhuman, materia enhanced power, none of the infantrymen dared advance against the two Turks, despite Scarlet's threats. Quelling her rage, Scarlet turned again to Verdot.

“Stubborn, aren’t you?” she glared at her former colleague. “No matter. That just makes this more fun. Next! Attack!.”

She thrust her hand over her head and snapped her fingers twice. A second battalion of infantry flanked the Turks from behind and sent out another set of attack mechs. Cissnei turned to face the second threat. Her pistol would be little good against them, but she fired a bullet into one of them anyway to make a point.

“Sir, there's too many of them,” she warned, turning back to face him and abandoning any attempt to hide their alliance.

He remained unflinching, standing with his back to her as he kept himself staunchly planted between his Turk and Director Scarlet.

Scarlet glared back at him, a triumphant smile plastered on her crimson lips. Keeping her eyes locked on him, she shouted to her troops, “Finish them off!”

At her command, the mechs behind Verdot activated their blasters, firing out small bullets of fire at their targets. Cissnei spun back to face them and instinctively lifted her arms to shield herself from the oncoming fire as two shots simultaneously crashed into her right shoulder and left knee. Another hit her in the side, leaving a smoking hole in the flank of her jack. With a cry, she dropped to the ground beside the Chief, hand clutching at the searing pain in the dip of her waist.

“Cissnei!” Verdot turned to shoot down the grunts that had fired on her. As they exploded into flames, he turned back to the director, screaming, “Scarlet! Stop! It's me you’re after!”

Scarlet stared him down with a merciless grin. “Stop! Stooop!” she ordered her army, and the remaining mechs came to a halt. “It has been fun, really,” she told Verdot. “But it’s time to move on to the main course.”

Tipping her chin over her shoulder, she signaled one of the large attack tanks forward. As it rolled towards them, the end of its long cylindrical barrel opened to reveal a gaping hole from which large scale shells would be fired. It was a bit overkill to execute two people. Scarlet smiled at the ridiculousness of it. She was certainly making the most of the opportunity.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked Verdot contemptuously. “Lovely, isn’t it? This will be its first test firing. Of course, I will be the one to press the switch.” She held out a hand to one of her soldiers.

“W-wait, ma’am,” the man stammered as he held on to the controller. “We’ll move the reinforcements–”

“That won’t be necessary,” she snapped as she snatched the remote from his hands.

“Ma’am?”

“I told you, I’m going to fire it right here and now,” she said dismissively. “Just how many of you do you think there are? A gil a dozen!”

Turning back to the Turks, she directed one more unfriendly smile at Verdot and ceremoniously depressed the switch. The cannon's bore ignited with a brilliant flash. Turning to Cissnei, Verdot pushed her to the ground and threw himself over her as the blast ripped through the army of machines surrounding them. The air above him became extremely hot and filled with the smell of smoke and smoldering metal as the mechs were thrown about them by the repeated explosions.

“What a thrill!” Scarlet exclaimed above the chaos as the air began to clear.

With a glint in her eye, she studied the scene of destruction in front of her. Not a single mech was left standing. And she could not see any sign of the two Turks either. She laughed loudly to herself, most delighted. Then one of the fallen mechs began to move. She smiled again. She really had designed them superbly. Even a cannon blast couldn't destroy her latest creation.

The shuddering machine rolled over to the side and laid motionless as Verdot and Cissnei then climbed out from underneath it. The Chief stood up first and helped pull the other Turk to her feet.

“What!?” Scarlet was seething. “Why won’t you people just give up!?”

Pulling away from Verdot, Cissnei turned on Scarlet and lifted her pistol as she staggered towards the director.

“Cissnei! Stop!” Verdot ordered desperately.

“Fire!” Scarlet screamed over him.

Verdot lunged forward, throwing himself in front of Cissnei and using his prosthetic to shoot down two incoming mortars. The artillery shells exploded in the air in front of them. The heat from the blast pushed him back into Cissnei, and the two of them tumbled to the ground. Pushing himself off of her, he knelt over his subordinate and took her firmly by the shoulders.

“Cissnei, it’s hopeless,” he told her in a harsh whisper. “I can’t allow you to die for my sake.”

Cissnei stared up at him, her eyes not completely focusing on his face. “Chief, no,” she moaned. She wanted to get up, wanted to fight, but instead collapsed back to the ground. She couldn't. She just couldn't.

Laying her down gently, Verdot looked back over his shoulder at Scarlet and stood to face her. “Scarlet. That’s enough,” he insisted angrily. Stepping away from Cissnei, he lifted his arms from his sides in a show of surrender. “Your orders are to kill me. So hurry up and do it.”

“I’m afraid you’ve got it all wrong,” she told him with a purring laugh. “I’m here to capture you.”

“Capture me? Why?” he demanded.

She lifted her right shoulder in a shrug. “That’s what the President said, so I can’t but obey,” she said with a sigh. “But you’re right, I have had my fill of fun. I’ll spare your Turk.”

She signaled to two of her men with a snap of her fingers, and they stepped up on either side of her with rifles raised. In unison, they opened fire on Verdot. The nonlethal rounds took him to the ground. With a painful groan, he collapsed to the sand beside Cissnei as his world began to fade.

Scarlet watched with great satisfaction as three of her men approached Verdot cautiously with weapons still drawn. The captain nudged the motionless man with his boot. Satisfied that he was no longer a threat, he directed his men to take him into custody. One man took his legs while the other hooked his arms under his armpits. Lifting him off the ground, they carried him towards the transport waiting to ferry them back to Midgar.

“Ma’am, what should we do with the Turk?” the captain asked the director.

“Leave her be,” Scarlet ordered. “Bagging all the Turks in one fell swoop will be far more amusing.” She paused as she watched her men carry Verdot past her and smiled. “Well then. It’s time to take our leave,” she announced. “Move out!”

Cissnei forced her heavy eyelids open and watched helplessly as the two troopers gathered up Verdot and carried him towards the idling chopper in the distance. From her vantage point on the ground, everything seemed to move unevenly and in slow motion. She willed her body to move, but she had no strength left.

“Sir… I'm so sorry…” she whispered then fell into unconsciousness.

--

The sun had set over the Corel desert when Cissnei was finally stirred by the wind of a descending helicopter. She was vaguely aware of its presence, but it wasn't enough to rouse her to full consciousness.

Tseng set the chopper down and bolted from the cockpit. Dropping to his knees next to Cissnei, he gently lifted her shoulders and cradled her head in the crook of his arm. A fine layer of dust coated her face, except for thin trails of clean skin extending from the corners of her eyes to her jaw. She looked like she'd been through hell, physically and emotionally.

“Cissnei!” he shouted, carefully bouncing her shoulders as he wiped some of the dust from her cheeks with the heel of his hand. “Come on, wake up!” he ordered.

Her sand coated eyelashes quivered but didn't open. “Tseng…” she moaned, her brow wrinkling in distress. “The Chief… The Chief, he…”

“Cissnei,” Tseng said her name in a deep soothing tone, stopping her from saying more.

She opened her eyes then and looked up at him. Tears filled her lower lids and spilled over her cheeks, turning the dust to a thin sheen of mud. She didn't even try to stop them. “Tseng… I’m sorry… I…”

“Don’t give up yet!” he ordered gently. “Veld’s still alive. We’re going to find him and bring him back, no matter what.”

With Cissnei still cradled in his left arm, her pulled out his phone and called Reno.

“Reno, Veld’s has been taken,” he relayed.

The line was silent for a moment. “Damn… They got us, huh?” Reno finally responded, his tone quieter than it had ever been.

“We’ll get him back,” Tseng ordered, looking back down at Cissnei. She had passed out once again.

“You got it, boss, or it’s the end of the road for us,” Reno said dismally.

“Stay on your guard,” warned Tseng. “We can’t afford to be careless.”

“That’s for sure,” Reno replied, a hint of anger and determination rising in his lazy voice. “For the Chief and for the Turks. No way are we going down without a fight!”

“Cissnei's been hurt pretty bad. I've got her now and we're heading back to Midgar. Meet us at headquarters,” Tseng concluded and pocketed the phone.

He slipped his other arm under Cissnei's knees and lifted her out of the sand. Carrying her back to the chopper, he positioned her as comfortably as he could across the back row of seats. Once he had her settled, he strapped himself back into the cockpit and put the helicopter back in the air, piloting it east towards Midgar.

* * * * * * *

[Shinra Conference Room]

President Shinra shoved through the double doors of the conference room, pleased to see all of his executives awaiting him. He strode purposefully forward and came to stand at his place at the head of the table, but did not sit. No, his message was too important to be given sitting down. He looked around the table at each of his directors, pleased with their decision.

“The board is unanimous,” he informed them boisterously. He couldn't hide his smile as he continued, “The executive board hereby votes to disband the Turks. Make the following company–wide announcement: The price for betraying Shinra is death. The former head of General Affairs Investigations, Verdot, is to be executed at noon on the fifth of October!”

Chapter 53: 22: The Threat that Pierces the Heavens, part 1

[Turk Headquarters]

Reno and Rude entered the control room to find Tseng leaning urgently over one of the dashboard panels. He'd been at it for days. The man had barely slept and wouldn't eat, despite constant urging from his subordinates. Reno and Rude exchanged glances. They had quit trying to convince him to rest. He was determined to fight till the very end, as were they all.

Reno stepped closer and dared to ask, “How’d it go?”

Tseng took a deep breath and actually sat down in his chair. “Denied access again,” he reported and hammered a fist down angrily on the keyboard.

“That’s Shinra’s security system for you,” Rude reminded them.

“Yeah. It’s tough to have it turned against ya,” Reno lamented. “We’ll never find out where they’re holding the Chief like this.”

“We’re close to the execution date,” Rude said, as if any of them needed to be reminded.

“I know,” Tseng said and closed his eyes, fighting back unwelcome thoughts of yet another failure, another preventable death on his hands.

Since returning from Corel, the Turks had split into two teams. Tseng, Reno, and Rude were devoting all their resources to locate Verdot and rescue him before his nearing execution date. All the other Turks, headed by Cissnei, were searching for Fuhito and Elfe in hopes of saving her before the summon materia embedded within her could completely drain her life away. Both teams were quickly running out of time.

--

[4 October 0007]

[5:00PM]

[Wall Market, Sector 6, Midgar]

“Oh no,” the young girl moaned. “I must have left it behind at the bar again.”

Dressed in a red blouse and pleated white skirt, with a white scarf tied loosely around her shoulders, the teenager turned back up the street and headed back to the bar. Her blonde pigtails bounced over her shoulders, making her look even younger than her 16? years. Her dark brown eyes scanned the streets as she retraced her steps. Wall Market was far from friendly, even by slum standards. Known as Midgar's red light district, it could be a rather wild and unruly place at night. But now, during the late afternoon, it wasn't much worse than any other part of the slums. The rowdy crowds would be arriving in a few hours as the more intriguing establishments began to open up – the Honeybee Inn, the massage parlors, the Coliseum. As usual, she planned to be long gone by then. Wall Market was no place for a teenage girl to be after dark.

Rounding the next corner, she gave a loitering drunk a stay-away-from-me glare and crossed the street to the bar where she worked after school. It was far from respectable looking, being built of faded wooden boards and patched with thin sheets of tin. But the proprietor was a good man and looked after her when the clientele got too handsy. Grabbing the door handle, she gave it a gentle tug. As the door pulled open, several voices echoed from inside. It had gotten much busier since she left just a half hour earlier.

“Boss!” she shouted as she stepped inside. “I left something behind again.”

She stepped into the dimly lit bar and hesitated when she saw the crowd that had gathered. She took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. The Turks? A silent moan lodged itself in her throat. Then, trying to sound friendlier than she felt, called out, “Hello, everyone.”

It seemed most of the Turks had gathered at the bar again, including her sister Emma. Cissnei, Ruluf, Balto, Freyra, Juget, Alvis, and Maur rounded out the group. The man named Shears was there too, although she knew he wasn't a Turk. Some of them must've heard her greeting and turned to return the gesture.

What are the Turks doing here again!? she moaned inwardly.

“Oh, it’s you, Elena.” Emma waved at her from one of the bar stools. When they were in the same room, their sisterhood was undeniable. Same blonde hair. Same brown eyes. Same petite frame. And Elena hated it. “I heard that you were already done for today,” Emma was saying.

“Y–Yeah,” Elena stuttered before quickly finishing, “I just dropped by to pick up something I left behind.”

This is the worst, she wailed inwardly as she hurried behind the bar to retrieve the sweater she'd left there. Why did I have to run into sis and her gang?

“You forgot something again?” Emma teased her little sister. Elena shot her a side-eyed glare as she made her way behind the counter. Emma didn't seem to notice. “Honestly, Elena, sometimes I don’t know where your mind goes.”

“Hey, Emma,” Shears shouted over the bar talk and shot her a questioning look. “Don’t you think that was a bit much?”

Elena bit her lip as she ducked under the bar. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to herself, or to have one of her sister's friends come to her rescue. Locating the sweater, she wadded it up and tucked it angrily under her arm. She’s always shooting off her big mouth, she consoled herself. That's why she hated it when the Turks came to the bar. Of all the establishments in Wall Market, Emma insisted on bringing them here. Elena was sure it was solely to mock her.

“What’s the matter, Elena?” Emma asked as she emerged from behind the counter. “You’re so quiet all of a sudden.”

Well, excuse me! So what if I’m a klutz? she ranted to herself before turning a glaring look at her older sister. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t join the Turks if they begged me,” she snapped. “I certainly wouldn’t want to cause any of you trouble.”

Emma blinked at her outburst before her eyes narrowed to match those of her sister's. “Elena,” she said in a cautionary tone, “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

Elena's eyes flashed and her nostrils flared as a pink flush crept across her cheeks. “Well then, I’m leaving,” she announced a little too loudly. “I have what I came for.”

The young girl darted around the end of the counter, brushing shoulders with the Turk sitting at the end – she thought it was Ruluf – and made a beeline for the door. She hit the crash bar hard and sprinted out of the establishment and around the corner without slowing down. All the Turks had turned at the sound of raised voices and the slamming of the door.

“I’m sorry, everyone,” Emma apologized, looking around sheepishly at her colleagues. “I don’t know why she has been acting like this lately.”

“You don’t think it might be because of you?” Shears asked cynically, and Emma's head snapped in his direction. He met her gaze and held it for a brief moment before getting up from the bar and moving closer to Cissnei and Alvis.

Outside, Elena slowed her pace to an aggravated walk after she rounded the corner and was out of sight of the bar. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she wasn't a crier – unless she was angry. And she was really angry.

I hate the Turks so much… The dogs of Shinra. It’s the perfect place for my pig-headed sister. I’ll never, ever, join the Turks. Not as long as sis is there! I’m sick of being compared to her–

“S-Stop or I’ll shoot!”

Elena froze mid-stride and listened. Wall Market was far from being considered a good part of town, but that sounded bad even for Wall Market. She ran towards the sound to see what the commotion was about. She thought it came from the railroad tracks on the north side. Approaching the old rail station, she tiptoed to the corner of the crumbling brick building and peeked around it.

Six men were standing on the tracks. She recognized the three men in the center as Shinra infantry – their navy blue fatigues, green neckerchiefs, and rounded helmets were unmistakable. They had been patrolling the sector even more than usual since President Shinra had ordered the elimination of the Turks. The other three men surrounding them wore black fatigues. She hadn't seen them before, but they did not look friendly.

As she watched them, the two groups started fighting, and Elena put a hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. The men in black beat down the infantrymen in brutal fashion. She had never witnessed such a ruthless display, even in her sparring classes at the military academy.

Th–This is bad! I have to call for help. Her mind raced as she backed away from the corner of the rail station and ran back towards the bar. The Turks! she thought, but then pulled up just short of the front door. No. I can’t ask them, she sulked stubbornly.

Then she heard running footsteps coming up the street from the rail station. Had she been seen? Were those guys in black pursuing her? Fighting down the urge to panic, she flattened herself against the building and held her breath as three infantrymen hurried past her headed south. Their uniforms were wrinkled, and one had a tear at the shoulder seam

Aren’t they the ones from before? she wondered. So they’re all right after all? Curious, she stepped out into the street behind them and watched as they disappeared around the next block. She had seen a lot of strange happenings around Wall Market, but this was different. She knew what she saw at the train station. Those couldn’t be the same men. There’s something fishy about this, she concluded. Turning back up the street towards the station, she hurried back to the scene of the fight.

She approached the tracks slowly and cautiously looked around. The place appeared to be deserted. There’s no one here…? She stepped out onto the tracks and knelt down between the two sets of rails. The dirt there was clearly scuffed and disturbed. There had definitely been a fight. Could the troopers have turned the tables on those guys? She stood up and turned in a circle as she surveyed the entire train yard. No, she didn't think they could've. Something weird was going on, she was sure of it.

* * *

Shears took the empty stool next to Cissnei at the bar and offered her a friendly smile. She had recovered well from her ordeal at Corel Prison. She was a tenacious fighter; he'd give her that.

“We’re in a tight spot, all right,” he said in answer to her previous statement. “As if AVALANCHE wasn’t enough, now Shinra’s after the Turks, too.”

“And the Chief’s execution date is growing closer,” she reminded him quietly, only bringing the mood down further.

“Elfe’s life isn’t getting any longer either,” he added as he threw back a shot.

“There’s just so much working against us,” Cissnei moaned, taking a slow sip from her own drink. It was bitter and stung going down, but she didn't seem to notice. “Tseng and the others are looking for the Chief. We need to focus on rescuing Elfe.”

Shears set his glass down on the bar and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the three materia that they had and set them on the bar between them. The three small orbs were nearly identical. Each shimmered and glowed with an internal light. At their centers, perfectly shaped pyramidal crystals refracted the light like tiny prisms.

“We’ve got the materia,” Shears said as he steadied one of the spheres that threatened to roll across the uneven counter. “Fuhito’s gonna come looking for them sooner or later.”

“You’re right,” Cissnei frowned as she stared down at the precious orbs they had fought so hard to collect. “It’d be bad if he started picking us off one by one. We have to stay on our guard.”

“Yeah…” Shears agreed. “Let’s split the materia between us, just in case. Better not put all our eggs in one basket. I’ll take one. You take the other two,” he told her, then picked up the one closest to himself and slid the other two towards Cissnei.

“Good idea.” She accepted them and picked up one in each hand. They felt oddly warm and malleable in her hands – not so different from any other materia, she thought.

“We can’t let Fuhito get his hands on them,” Shears stressed to her, as though she didn't already know that.

“Of course,” she reassured him. She had nearly died for the cause on more than one occasion. There was no way she would let Fuhito take them back now.

Shears looked down at his feet and nodded. “I’m heading out,” he announced, then rose from his stool and abruptly left the bar.

* * *

Elena ran back down the street and passed the bar again, following in the footsteps of the mysterious not–infantrymen she'd seen moments earlier. She reached the next block and turned the corner. About a hundred meters up the street, the men were gathered at the next intersection. She could tell from their hand gestures that they were discussing something, but she couldn't hear any of it at that distance. Ducking close to the building, she watched as they suddenly broke up and each headed down a different street. Elena sprinted to the next intersection and glanced anxiously in each direction. The only man still in sight was the one headed south, so she followed him. Racing down the street, she followed him around the next corner. But he wasn't there. Coming to a stop, she looked up and down the street in both directions and checked a few of the nearest side alleys, but he was nowhere in sight.

I’ve lost them. She cursed her luck and continued to check a couple more side streets. Then, losing interest in the seemingly pointless venture, she gave up the search. Throwing down her arms in frustration, she stalked back up the street.

* * *

[Turk Headquarters]

Rude and Reno watched helplessly from across the room as Tseng's fingers flew over the keyboard in front of him. The familiar sign of failure flashed across the screen once more.

“Not again…” Tseng moaned. “We’re still being denied access.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Reno quipped in frustration. “How many times is that, yo?”

Tseng shot him an ungrateful glance. “That’s not all,” he revealed as he pushed back from the useless monitor and turned to Reno with folded arms. “Someone’s been trying to access our terminal.”

“A jamming signal?” asked Rude.

Abruptly, the screen in front of them flashed white a couple of times before a series of numbers began scrolling quickly across the screen from top to bottom. An endless cycle of seemingly random numbers – some kind of programming code – ran on and on, scrolling too fast to keep up with.

“Hey! Some program just started running on its own!” Reno gasped, leaning past Tseng to watch the screen more closely. His finger hovered over the monitor as though ready to reach in and snatch up some useful piece of information from the data string.

Then the numbers suddenly came to a stop as the screen flashed once again. When it returned, an unfamiliar scene filled the screen.

“It’s a surveillance feed,” Rude announced, a hint of confusion in his voice making it sound like a question.

Tseng moved Reno forcibly aside as he again took command of the monitor. Is someone trying to show us something? He studied the image with narrowed eyes as he racked his brain to try and place the scenery.

“Who’s doing this?” Reno demanded warily over his shoulder.

There aren’t many who could, Tseng reasoned. Only one person came to mind. But why?

“Hmph.” A voice well-known to them suddenly came over the monitor's intercom, startling Reno and Rude. “Finding Verdot on your own seems to be too much to expect of you,” the man taunted.

* * * * * * *

[Wall Market]

Cissnei finished off her drink and looked around the bar. Everyone else had already headed out. She glanced up at the clock. She'd been there long enough. A downside to being a fugitive was that one couldn't stay in the same place for long without the risk of being discovered. She thanked the bartender again for allowing them to frequent his establishment and started for the door. Five feet from it, the door swung in and crashed against the wall, shattering the glass.

“Here’s one!” an infantryman shouted from the doorway.

Speak of the devil… Cissnei thought. She suddenly wished she had left ten minutes ago with Emma as the infantryman stepped inside with a snarling black guard hound pulling at its leash. Cissnei held her hands up in a nonthreatening posture.

“You surprised me there,” she said soothingly. “If possible, I’d like to settle this peacefully–”

“Resistance is futile!” the infantryman snapped as he lifted his rifle. “We have been ordered to kill any Turks on sight. Give me any gruff and I’ll sic this guy on you! Your death will be much less painful from a bullet than from him. Trust me.”

Cissnei didn't doubt it. She'd seen guard hounds in action before; they weren't trained to be merciful. Keeping her hands aloft, she backed slowly towards the counter. When she felt it press against the small of her back, she reached back and artful flipped herself over it. A spray of bullets showered broken glass and wasted liquor down from the shelf above her. At the same time, she heard the man shout, “Sic 'em,” followed by the sound of scrambling claws on the hardwood floor. With an excited bark, the hound lunged towards the counter and leaped. Landing on the polished surface, it skidded and slid off the other side to land beside Cissnei.

She threw herself aside as it turned on her. Before she could get to her feet, it lunged, slamming its body down on top of her and pinning her to the ground. She felt its rear claws digging into her left thigh as it strained against the forearm she planted in its chest to keep it at bay. Cissnei wrinkled her nose at the foul smelling breath puffing in her face as it snarled and snapped repeatedly at her. With her weapon out of reach she snatched up the nearest object at her disposable: the end of a shattered glass bottle. Wielding it like a knife, she stabbed it in the side of the hound's neck. The beast yelped, but didn't relent. Pulling the shard out, she stabbed it again and again, four more times, sinking it in deep on the last hack. Finally, the hound retreated, climbing off of her and falling weakly against the counter.

Springing to her feet, Cissnei snatched up another bottle just as the infantryman stepped around the counter. Seeing the hound collapsed on the floor, he leveled his rifle at Cissnei. Before he could fire, she chucked the bottle at him. The man flinched, and Cissnei vaulted the counter and bolted for the door.

“Send backup!” the infantryman shouted into his radio behind her.

Cissnei crashed through the shattered door as two bullets plunked into the door frame just over her head. Outside, two more infantrymen with guard hounds were running up the street towards her. Retrieving her pistol, Cissnei raised her weapon in their direction and hesitated with her finger on the trigger. The men bearing down on her were only doing their job. They still worked for the same company – the Shinra Company. They were only following orders from their superiors – just like her. She couldn't kill them. For now, she would just have to run.

Making up her mind, she bolted from the open doorway and around the corner as a barrage of bullets shredded the building's wooden siding. She heard the men behind her ordering her to stop and surrender, but she ducked her head and ran on.

Chapter 54: 22: The Threat that Pierces the Heavens, part 2

[Turk Headquarters]

“So it was you, Mr. Vice President,” Tseng confirmed.

“Yes, it's me,” Rufus replied flippantly. “Verdot’s execution is scheduled for noon tomorrow. Do you think you can save him?”

“We’re doing everything we can,” Tseng told him, his teeth clenched.

Rufus was silent for a moment as he stared back intently at Tseng, then said, “……I know where he’s being held.”

“You serious?” Reno barked, his tone warning that he had better be. He didn't like being toyed with.

“Of course the Vice President would know,” Rude grumbled quietly behind them.

“Aaannnd… I might just tell you where he is,” teased Rufus, dangling the possibility before them with a catty smirk.

The room fell into dead silence save for the quiet hum of the ventilation system behind the walls.

“Tseng!?” Reno and Rude looked to him expectantly.

Tseng stood staring at the monitors, a war of decisions waging in his mind. Was Rufus Shinra someone to trust? With the intelligence he had access to, his knowing the Chief's location was certainly within the realm of possibilities, which meant it was also possible he was telling the truth…

“However…” Rufus was speaking again and brought Tseng's attention back to the screen. His steely gaze was stone cold, and his mouth turned down in a show of seriousness he'd not yet displayed in their conversations. “…There are conditions,” he pressed. “As you know, nothing comes without a price.”

Tseng's eyes narrowed. “Conditions?” he prodded.

Rufus met Tseng's eyes and stared back at him in complete silence, unblinking. “Reno, Rude, leave us,” the Vice President ordered.

The two men looked to Tseng. “Boss…?” Reno asked with a raised eyebrow

Tseng remained silently focused on the monitor, never taking his eyes off Rufus, studying his posture, his face, his eyes, anything for any sign of deception.

Rufus continued to hold his gaze, unflinching. “I will discuss this matter with Tseng only,” he insisted sternly. “How about it, Tseng, Chief of the Turks?”

Tseng sat perfectly still, but inside, he was a broiling, raging, swirling storm. Every eye in the room was on him, awaiting his decision. Did he trust Rufus Shinra? Or not? And did he have a choice?

“Fine,” he finally answered. Then, without removing his gaze, ordered, “Reno. Rude.”

“Sir,” Rude saluted.

“Sir, yes, sir,” echoed Reno.

The two Turks backed away from the desk and headed for the door. As they crossed the office, Reno paused just long enough to look back at the Director. When he did, he saw Rufus's image in the monitor. He was smiling.

* * *

[Wall Market]

“Damn it. We’ve lost her,” the infantryman swore as he paced the street not five meters from Cissnei's hiding place. The man lifted his radio, and Cissnei listened as he barked new orders. “She can’t have gone far. Find her!”

As the trooper moved on to the next street, Cissnei slowly rose from her crouched position in the narrow alley. Getting around the sector had just gotten a whole lot harder, she thought. A quiet tone chimed from her pocket, and she snatched up her phone before the sound could give away her position.

“Cissnei, we’ve found out where the Chief is being held,” Tseng reported.

“You have!?” Cissnei exclaimed. “Where–”

“We’re on our way to get him now,” he interrupted urgently.

“Where are you headed?” she asked again. “I’m coming too.”

“No,” Tseng stopped her. “I need you to secure an escape route. Wait for us outside of Midgar. Be on standby.”

“Understood,” Cissnei told him and heard the call disconnect before she had a chance to say more.

Slipping the phone back in her pocket, she ventured out into the street. She looked both ways before stepping out into the intersection and headed east.

* * *

Tseng cautiously entered a dimly lit tunnel on the west side of the facility with Reno and Rude at his heels. A grate running the length of the floor was overflowed with a foul smelling fluid that lent its stench to the air filling the tunnel. Overhead, widely spaced lights recessed in the low ceiling reflected off the wet floor every few meters.

Reno peered down the disgusting tunnel ahead of them. “We're here, yo,” he announced grandly.

“It stinks,” Rude stated the obvious, wrinkling his usually stoic face at the unpleasantness of it.

Tseng stepped into the tunnel ahead of them, acting oblivious to the unpleasant sights and smells. “It’s Midgar’s dump after all,” he reminded his colleagues. “All of the city’s trash is gathered here to be processed and disposed of.”

“Why’d they lock up the Chief in a place like this?” complained Reno as he followed him inside.

“The smell is enough to keep anyone away,” said Rude, joining them.

“Guess there ain’t no better place to hide someone,” Reno concluded, waving a hand in front of his face in an attempt to disseminate the odors around him.

Rude grunted in disgust. “They shouldn’t lump the Chief in with the garbage.”

“Maybe they see traitors as no better than trash,” Tseng suggested, stepping over a stream of unknown liquids that had escaped the grate.

“Nah, they’re messin’ with us,” Reno growled, spitting to the side. “Bastards…”

“Let's do this quickly,” Tseng ordered, picking up the pace ahead of the other two. Every moment they spent inside was a moment they could be caught. Speed, not stealth, would be their greatest asset for this mission. He urged them faster.

* * *

[Wall Market]

Cissnei crouched behind a discarded barricade at the east side of Wall Market. Two infantrymen were patrolling the main road out of the sector. They had two barricades set across the street, forming am impassable checkpoint. The two men had their rifles slung back over their shoulders as they leaned back against one of the barricades, shooting the breeze.

“Man, this is boring,” one complained.

“Our shift’s not up yet,” the other reminded him. “Stay on your guard.”

“What’s the use of all these checks, anyway?” he ranted on. “The only vehicles to pass through are all from Shinra.”

“Yeah, and the company trucks don’t even get inspected,” the infantryman snorted.

Cissnei listened intently. It sounded like the only way out without a fight would be in a Shinra truck. She'd have to find a way to hijack one. With that goal in mind, she backed away from the checkpoint and took a circuitous route around the block. If she remembered correctly, Shinra kept a small fleet of trucks near the old train station for transporting shipments. She ducked up the next alley as her phone chimed. Tseng was calling.

“Cissnei, what’s your situation?”

“They’ve set up checkpoints at the city exits,” she reported as she continued towards the train station. “Only Shinra vehicles are being allowed through–”

“We’ve found her!” a shout echoed up the alleyway behind her. She looked back and saw an infantryman at the end of the corridor waving in backup. A black guard hound lunged excitedly at the end of the leash in his hand.

“I've got trouble, Tseng!” Cissnei exclaimed. “I’ll call you later!” Thrusting the phone back in her pocket, she turned and broke into a full sprint as the infantryman released the hound's leash.

With a snarl, the beast dashed down the alleyway behind her. With a good hundred feet left in the alley, she knew it would catch her before she reached the end. Looking up as she ran, she spotted an open window ten feet up the side of the building to her left. Aiming for it, she planted one foot on the wall, then the other. With the third step, she launched herself the last few feet up towards the open window. Catching the sill with the fingertips of both hands, she hauled herself up and tumbled through the window headfirst as the hound was left leaping up the side of the building, barking and snapping furiously at its escaped prey.

Inside, Cissnei hit the floor, somersaulted, and popped back up to her feet in one smooth motion. She could hear a door burst open on the first floor below her and the booted feet of two infantrymen clomp inside, accompanied by the scurrying toenails of a lunging guard hound straining at its leash.

“She's upstairs!”

Cissnei glanced quickly around the unfinished second floor. There was nowhere to hide. She darted across the open floor to the opposite side of the building. To her relief, the window slid up easily. Sitting down on the window sill, she dangled her feet out the window before dropping the ten feet back down to the street below. She landed in a silent crouch next to the building and scanned the street. Seeing no imminent dangers, she crossed the road, vaulted a fence, and found an old storage shed in the back lot of an abandoned building. She ducked inside, pulling the door closed silently behind her.

Inside, she spent several minutes with her ear to the door, listening for approaching footsteps, but none came. Taking a deep breath, she retrieved her phone and called Tseng again.

He answered on the first ring. “Cissnei! Are you safe?”

“I’ve gotten away for the time being,” she reported, slowing her breathing.

“You said we’ll need a company truck to get past the checkpoints,” Tseng said, returning to her earlier report.

“I'm on my way to secure one now,” she told him.

“Excellent. Then have one ready at the rendezvous point,” Tseng ordered. “We’ll use it to make our getaway.”

“It'll be there,” Cissnei promised.

“We’re counting on you,” Tseng reminded her before disconnecting the call.

Cissnei pocketed the phone and cautiously exited the shed. With no troopers in sight, she passed hurriedly through the lot and turned up the street towards the station again. She reached the small brick building without incident and quickly crossed the tracks to crouch behind a pair of bushes at the back edge of the truck lot.

Just as she remembered, there was a small fleet of Shinra military trucks parked at the far side of the station. The lot's entrance and exit were guarded, of course. She'd have to find an alternate way in. She watched as an infantryman entered the lot. He paused to greet the guard before heading for the truck at the east side of the lot nearest Cissnei. Moving to the driver's side door, he jerked it open and climbed inside the cab. In seconds, the large engine roared to life and a plume of exhaust was expelled from its rattling back muffler. When she heard the truck shift gears, she darted from her hiding place. The truck was already rolling forward when she placed both hands on the tailgate and hoisted herself inside. Rolling over the top of the gate, she dropped down flat against the corrugated floor inside of the covered bed and held her breath to listen. No alarms were being raised. She hadn't been seen, then. Snatching a worn tarp off a stack of crates, she laid back down and covered herself with it. Once they were past the checkpoint, she would have to make her way to the cabin and hijack the truck.

Unable to watch her surroundings, Cissnei relied on the movements of the truck to discern their location. After making several turns, she felt them slowing down and heard the truck's gears grind as the driver downshifted.

“Halt!”

The muffled shout came from outside the vehicle. We must be at the checkpoint. Cissnei held her breath and waited for the truck to start moving again. Seconds felt like minutes until she finally heard the guard wave them forward.

“Let him through!”

She heard the scraping sound of the barricades being pulled off the road.

“All right, go ahead,” the guard said to the driver. “And watch your back!”

The driver laughed as he shifted gears and pressed down on the accelerator. The truck shot forward through the checkpoint and headed for the highway. Cissnei felt the cargo in the back shift around her as the truck took the next couple of turns at a high rate of speed. Soon, she could tell it was barreling up the on ramp towards the highway. Throwing off the tarp, she sat up and looked towards the back cabin window. The door was pulled over the glass, blocking her view of the driver. Clamoring to her feet, she began moving aside different pieces of equipment as she climbed towards the front of the truck. One large ruck sack the size of a punching bag laid across two crates on the left side of the cargo hold. As she passed by it, she was sure the bag moved. As she cast it a second glance, the whole bag rolled off the crates and crashed to the floor next to her. She sidestepped to avoid it and kept moving forward. Then a whimper came from the bag at her feet, and she paused. Looking at the bag again, she could tell that it was definitely moving. Bending over, she found the knot in the drawstrings and jerked it loose. As soon as she did so, a tuft of blond hair emerged from the spreading opening.

“I can't breathe!” a young girl's voice squeaked.

Cissnei stared in disbelief at the young girl clawing her way out of the bag. “E-Elena!?” she exclaimed.

The teenager stared back at her with large brown eyes. Her pigtails hung unevenly on the sides of her head, making her look like a confused puppy.

“The Turks!?” she stammered, sounding equally surprised to see Cissnei.

“What are you doing here!?” Cissnei demanded in a harsh whisper. “And why were you in that bag?”

Elena finished crawling out of the bag and ran her hands over her disheveled hair as she told her, “I’ve been kidnapped.”

Cissnei shook her head. “By Shinra!?” she asked. That didn't make sense.

Elena shook her head hard enough to swing her pigtails. “Try an anti-Shinra group instead,” she told her.

Cissnei looked towards the cab again with a curious squint. Did the Shinra trooper not know she was back there? And how did AVALANCHE get her into a Shinra truck unnoticed? She didn't have time for this. “So they’re planning to meet up somewhere?” she asked Elena urgently. “Why?”

“I saw them,” the girl explained. “AVALANCHE soldiers disguised as Shinra troops. So they tried to make sure I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“So you’re saying that this truck is being driven by…”

“AVALANCHE goons dressed up as Shinra lackeys? Yeah,” Elena confirmed with a nod.

“Well, at least I don’t have to hold back against him,” Cissnei said, standing up. “Wait here, Elena. I’m taking over this truck.”

Stepping around the girl, she started towards the front again. As she did, the truck lurched suddenly, and she spread her feet and threw out her arms to keep from being thrown to the floor. The driver had hit the brakes, and the vehicle was slowing down and coasting to a stop.

“We've stopped,” Elena whispered. Still kneeling on the floor, she shifted her attention from the cab to the tailgate and back to the cab again.

She and Cissnei remained motionless as they heard the truck door creak open and slam back shut. The Turk put a finger to her lips to tell the girl to wait quietly while she tiptoed to the back of the truck. Silently, she slung one leg over the tailgate, then the other, and dropped noiselessly to the pavement. She ventured to the edge of the truck and cautiously peered around it. They had stopped on the side of the road behind another Shinra truck. A Raven had exited the second truck and now stood next to their driver at the hood of their truck near the front tires. The driver removed his Shinra infantry helmet and scarf, and tossed them back in the truck through the open window.

Acting while the men had their backs towards her, Cissnei drew her pistol and emerged from around the end of the truck. She hadn't been noticed yet and made her way about halfway down the length of the truck before making her presence known. Without a word and without mercy, she fired two shots, dropping each man with one bullet. Then she ran towards the front of the truck. One man had fallen across the hood, and she pulled him off and dragged him way from the front tires. As she did so, a series of shouts erupted from the truck parked in front of it. She watched as five more Ravens bailed out of the back of the vehicle and started towards her.

Jumping up on the running board, Cissnei put one hand on the door handle as she fired more shots at the approaching Ravens. The men ducked as two bullets plunked into the back of their truck. Then the gun clicked empty. Cissnei pulled the trigger twice more, but the chamber had nothing left. One of the Ravens chuckled menacingly as he led the others in a sprint towards the Turk. Cissnei yanked on the door handle and jerked it open. As she reached inside, a sharp pain exploded in her ribs, knocking her off the truck step. The Raven that had kicked her off took her place in the cab and started the truck. With a grunt, Cissnei quickly rolled sideways to avoid being run over by the rear tires as the truck roared forward. With a glance, she saw that the other Ravens had gotten back in their own truck and started off as well. Jumping to her feet, she ran after the rapidly accelerating truck. She reached out her hand and her fingers brushed the canvas cover over the bed, but she couldn’t get a hold on it. After being so frustratingly close, the truck lurched forward as the driver shifted to a higher gear and emitted a plume of exhaust in its wake. The vehicle roared out of Cissnei’s reach and accelerated down the highway.

“Dammit!” she gasped between heaving breaths. “Elena!”

But screaming for her in the middle of the road didn’t do any good. Mumbling more curses, she stood stooped over with hands on her knees, panting for breath. She’d lost both the getaway truck and the young girl. No, she moaned inwardly, I have to get them back. I have to!

Straightening up, she raced after the truck again. Even as it continued to pull away, she ran on, determined to keep it in sight for as long as possible. She followed it around a bend in the highway and then watched as it took the next exit ramp back down into Sector 6. Leaning over the guardrail, and followed the truck’s path with her eyes. It careened down the circular ramp and headed in a familiar direction. It seemed they were headed for the station. If she took a shortcut, she calculated she could catch up with them. Vaulting over the railing, she stumbled down the steep embankment and cut towards the station.

* * * * * * *

[Midgar Dump]

Reno, Rude, and Tseng slowed their pace as the lights overhead suddenly flashed brighter. Ahead of them, the sound of whirring machinery echoed as two guard mechs emerged from along the tunnel walls. As troublesome as their presence was, at least it indicated they were on the right track. Reno and Rude lunged forward and stared down the two mechs as they turned their weapons towards them.

“Looks like they’re rolling out the red carpet for us,” Reno drawled as the two mechs’ weapons came online with a quiet hum.

“You up for it?” taunted Rude.

“Oh, of course,” said Reno sarcastically.

In unison, each man lunged towards one of the mechs, Rude going left, and Reno right. Shinra defense systems were their specialty. They normally worked right alongside them, after all. Disarming them was a simple matter for a Turk. In a matter of seconds, both attack mechs were disabled and crumpled on the ground.

“Let’s move,” Tseng ordered, striding past them without a second glance. There was no time nor reason to celebrate simple victories when so much was at stake. “We should be getting close. Don’t let your guard down.”

Sir… Please hold on just a little longer. We’ll get you out of there, I swear.

Shortly thereafter, a second wave of three attack mechs formed a line barring their path. Their artillery was already trained on them as they came closer. As they opened fire on the Turks, Rude and Reno flinched left and right, respectively. Tseng held his ground and raised his handgun. Aiming precisely for each mech's main control unit, he fired one shot at each without slowing his stride. Each machine shot out showers of sparks as their legs folded up and collapsed underneath them. Tseng leaped over the center one’s twitching form, leading Rude and Reno onward.

I won’t lose here, Tseng determined. I’m not the same as I once was…

Chapter 55: 22: The Threat that Pierces the Heavens, part 3

The covered trucks lumbered down the off ramp and turned up the next street. As they rattled along, a sharp burst of static crackled over the radio in the rear truck. The Raven in the passenger seat reached forward and plucked it off the dash.

“I see you have secured the girl you spoke of. Well done,” Fuhito’s voice filled the cab. “Head for the station as planned.”

“Yes, sir,” said the man mechanically.

“The rendezvous point remains unchanged,” Fuhito reminded his men. “I have one last errand to take care of before I head there myself.”

The lead truck then split away from the second as it circled around to the outer road heading back into the slums. The second truck continued onward towards the station.

* * *

[Slums]

Shears stood over the unconscious Raven, breathing heavily through his nostrils, not so much from exertion as he was from anger and frustration. If what the man had just told him was true, then they were in trouble. Fuhito had found a way to summon a perfect Zirconiade. How, Shears didn’t know; he’d thought it impossible. Fuhito, however, seemed to know a way. If he succeeded, Elfe would certainly die in the process. No! he thought desperately. He wouldn’t let that happen. He would protect her. He had to. He promised–

A searing hot laser exploded over his right shoulder, missing his ear by centimeters as he ducked left. Dropping to one knee, he twisted around to face its source. As he did, a second brilliant green laser blasted at his feet, and he jumped backwards. Looking up, he saw the man holding the weapon calmly in his arms. He peered down his nose at Shears, appearing aloof and indifferent.

“It certainly has been a while, Shears,” Fuhito greeted with a cold, cynical laugh.

“Fuhito!” Shears shouted back angrily. “Where’s Elfe!?”

The scientist raised an amused eyebrow and turned his chin slightly over his shoulder to indicate the truck behind him. “She’s inside this truck,” he revealed with a shallow smile.

“What!?” Shears eyes snapped past the man to the idling truck. With a teeth-baring snarl, he started towards it.

“Oh, my,” Fuhito said, feigning concern as he raised his weapon again. “I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you.”

* * *

[Train Station]

Elena squirmed and struggled against the rough hands that were clamped on her shoulders and wrists as the Raven on either side of her forced her off the truck and hauled her towards the back of the train. She dug her heels into the loose gravel, squealing in protest until she stubbed a toe on the train tracks. With a painful whimper she fell to one knee before the Ravens unkindly yanked her back up again. Lifting her over the remaining ties, they shoved her towards the last train car. Together, they swung her to the top of the ladder where another man was waiting to catch her and pull her inside.

“Hey! Let go of me!” she screamed, trying not to let her mounting fear show.

The man gave her shove. “Walk!” he ordered her.

Instead, she spun around to face him, arms crossed tightly. The Raven responded by kicking her left shin swiftly and hard. Elena flinched and stooped down to grab at her stinging leg. With a whimper, she rubbed at the growing bruise and grimaced as she turned back around.

“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll walk, I’ll walk.”

The Raven gave her another shove between the shoulder blades for good measure and followed her through the train car. As she hobbled forward, she dared a glance back over her shoulder. Looking past the man following her, she saw on the floor the Elite Emblem pin she had dropped. With any luck, the Turks would find it if they came looking for her.

* * *

[Slums]

Fuhito’s cackling laugh filled the space between them as Shears came to halt. Relaxing his weapon again, he offered Shears a vicious smile and softened his stance. “A wise decision,” he applauded him. “You would do well to do as I say if you value Elfe’s life.”

Shears could only growl at the man through gritted teeth.

“There is only one thing I want of you today,” Fuhito told him and ceremoniously held out his hand. “…The materia,” he demanded. “I would like to have it back now, if you please.”

Shears glared back at him, breathing quick and hard through his flaring nostrils. He knew Fuhito’s plan was to summon Zirconiade. Wasn’t that what he wanted, too? The summoning was necessary to remove the materia from Elfe and save her life. Therefore, it didn’t matter who initiated it. The trouble would only start once the summoning was complete. They’d planned to do it in a way that would bring forth a weakened Zirconiade, one they could stop before it destroyed the planet. Fuhito’s plan was to summon a complete one, one they couldn’t so easily stop.

Fuhito watched the war playing out in Shears eyes. The man was desperate, he could see that much. What would he do? Something rash, he hoped.

Right now Elfe’s safety comes first, Shears concluded. To that end, the best thing he could do was to cooperate with Fuhito. He could then rescue Elfe as soon as the summoning was over. His hand hovered over his pocket. He was sure that one way or the other, Fuhito would be the one leaving there with the materia. What happened between now and then was up to him.

* * *

[Train Station]

Cissnei leaped for the ladder and pulled herself onto the last car of the train as it began rolling forward. She knew it would be heading towards Sector 0. Why are they headed for the Shinra Building? she wondered as she entered the cabin and pulled the door shut quietly behind her. The entire car appeared to be empty. She was sure she had seen them take Elena on this train. They had to have moved on to the next car. She started across the carriage after them. As she stepped off, her left shoe kicked something small that skittered across the polished wooden floor ahead of her. Bending over, she picked the object up. It was a small lapel pin. She remembered seeing one like it on Elena’s scarf. It was her academy emblem. The teenager had been there. Shoving the pin in her pocket, Cissnei sprinted forward.

Wait for me, Elena, she urged. I’m coming for you.

Jerking the door open, she stepped out onto the balcony, jumped over the coupling to the next car, and shouldered her way inside. Five Ravens turned to face her as she burst through the rear door of the carriage. One of them held Elena close to his side. The girl looked disheveled, but otherwise unharmed.

“Elena!” Cissnei called out to her in relief.

“Cissnei!” the girl struggled to pull away from the man holding her, but failed. “What are you–?”

The Raven slapped a hand over the girl’s mouth before she could say anymore.

“Elena has nothing to do with this,” Cissnei shouted at him angrily, taking a step closer. “Let her go!”

The Raven at the front of the group offered her an amused chuckle as he looked back at the girl. Returning his gaze to the Turk, he said, “Gladly. If you give us the support materia in exchange.”

Cissnei set her jaw in determination as her hands curled into fists at her sides. So they knew she had them. She looked around the carriage at the enemy. There were too many of them to take on alone, especially with Elena in their grasp. She couldn’t risk her getting hurt – or worse. She knew they would end up taking the materia from her one way or another. Her only option it seemed was to cooperate if she wanted to keep Elena safe. She could always find a way to get the materia back later.

Her hand hovered over her pocket.

“Cissnei! Don’t listen to them,” Elena pleaded, seeing what the Turk intended to do. “I can shake a bunch of scumbags like these any day.”

In a show of tenacity, she placed a sturdy kick in the back of the knee of one of the Ravens in front of her. The man holding her jerked her back and shook her harshly.

“Elena, don’t!” Cissnei warned her as she watched helplessly.

The Raven she had kicked looked back at his feisty attacker and laughed at her amusingly.

“Elena!” the Turk screamed her name again.

The Raven turned back to Cissnei. He saw the look in her eyes and knew he had her trapped. She would give him what he wanted.

“Don’t be unreasonable, all right?” she pleaded. “I’ll give you the support materia.”

“No! Why!?” Elena argued from behind the Raven. “Isn’t it important?”

“It’s okay, Elena,” she said calmly, then to the Raven, “Let Elena go first. Then I’ll throw you the materia.”

Not taking his eyes off the Turk, the Raven stepped aside and signaled for his man to let the girl go. The moment his fingers left her shoulders, Elena darted past him and ran towards Cissnei. The Turk ushered the girl safely behind her like a mother hen guarding her chick, then slowly, she reached into her pocket and removed the two precious materia she had sworn to never lose. But she had no choice. There was no way off the speeding train. They couldn’t run, and she couldn’t fight off all of them. With a growl of frustration, she threw the two orbs to the waiting Raven. The man snatched them from the air with ease and studied them. Satisfied, he turned to face the men behind him. They parted to give him a path to the next car. Then, he was gone, and, with him, the vital support materia.

“Elena, stay back!” Cissnei ordered as she drew her weapon.

“What are you–?”

“I’m getting that materia back!” she shouted as she lunged towards the closest Raven.

She caught the man off guard and slammed the butt of her pistol into his temple. As he went down, she turned her weapon on the next nearest enemy. The sound of gunfire echoed around the enclosed carriage as the second Raven dropped to the floor. Then she was blindsided. A sharp pain bloomed in her side as her attacker hammered another fist into her kidney. Dropping to one knee, she swept her other leg out behind her and swiped at the man’s ankles. As he toppled to the floor, she brought her gun back around and cracked it across his face. Before she rose back to her feet, the fourth Raven came down on her back. Wresting her arms behind her, he pried the gun from her hand and yanked her up off the floor. Cissnei thrashed violently in his grasp as he wrenched her arms tighter. He lifted her higher, till her feet came off the ground and she lost all traction.

Suddenly a pained grunt sounded in her ear and her feet touched back down as his hold on her loosened. Then he grunted again and she pulled against him. Her left arm came free and whirled around to face him. Bringing her knee up, she drove it into his stomach, bowing him over before dropping an elbow into the base of his skull. As he sunk to the floor, Cissnei looked over to see Elena standing behind him, fists raised.

Without compliment, Cissnei turned and sprinted for the door. She flung it open. A blast of air hit her face, blowing her hair back behind her as she stepped through.

“Wait! I’m coming too,” Elena shouted, running up behind her.

“No,” Cissnei ordered, turning to face the girl with an upraised hand. “Stay here.”

“But it’s my fault all this happened in the first place,” Elena pleaded. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling.

“It’s all right,” Cissnei said, softening her tone. “Just leave it to me. This is Turk business. I will get it back. It’s my job.”

She left her then, jumping over the connection to the next car. Elena ran after her as far as the coupling and stopped with her hands on the safety rail as the door of the next car slammed shut behind the Turk.

Inside the next car, Cissnei paused as footsteps clomped across the roof overhead. She raced for next the door. Gripping the door frame, she spun around the corner and slung onto the ladder. Halfway up, another train blew past in the opposite direction, buffeting her with its wind. Tightening her grip on the ladder, she pulled herself onward towards the roof. When she reached the top, she could see the Raven about halfway down the car. He was staring back at her, almost as though he had been waiting for her to appear. Then, with a smirk and wave, he turned to his left and leaped towards the second train. Cissnei vaulted herself onto the roof and raced towards him with hand outstretched as he flew through the air. The Raven landed in a crouch on the other train and was quickly snatched away. Cissnei screamed as the end of the train whizzed past before she could jump.

“No!” she wailed, putting her hands on her head. “I’ve been had!”

“Cissnei!”

Elena? Cissnei raced back over to the ladder and looked down at the girl on the balcony below her.

“Cissnei!” Elena repeated, sounding relieved to see her. “Did you get the materia?”

“No,” Cissnei shook her head and started down the ladder. “It’s no good. They’re on their way to the slums with them now.”

Elena backed away from the ladder to give the Turk room on the platform as she dismounted the last rung. The teenager was wringing her hands in front of her. “I’m so sorry,” she sniffled. “It’s all because I’m so clumsy…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cissnei reprimanded her quickly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “There must still be a way. There always is.”

“But how!?” Elena argued, following the Turk back into the train car. “What are you going to do?”

“Steal a Shinra chopper and chase after them,” Cissnei said matter-of-factly, as though breaking into the Shinra Building and snatching a helicopter from the top floor was an everyday occurrence.

“Will you make it in time?” asked Elena.

Cissnei grew quiet as she looked out the window at the Shinra Building looming over the rest of the city. The train would soon be pulling into the Sector 0 station a block away from it. Reaching the building would be the easy part. Getting through it, though, might be more difficult. Shinra and the Turks were still at odds, with the President still calling for their deaths. Going back to headquarters would be dangerous, but she didn’t see any other options.

“Forget I said anything,” Elena pleaded, seeing the look of concern cross her face. “After all, you're a Turk, right?”

Cissnei looked down at the young lady and offered her a reserved smile. “Yeah, that’s right,” she told her. She would succeed, no matter what. That’s what Turks did.

* * *

[Slums]

Shears hung slumped over between the two Ravens holding him up by the armpits. A trickle of blood ran from his lip and left nostril. As he sagged there, a third Raven reached deep into right pocket. Retrieving the materia, he handed it over to Fuhito.

“That should be just about enough. He won’t be able to follow us in that condition,” Fuhito told his men and signaled for them to release Shears. They let go of his arms, and he collapsed face first to the ground. “The Turks’ materia should already be in my possession by now,” he boasted. “Let us make haste. I will have no need of Elfe after the summoning.” He paused to watch Shears push himself up to his hands and knees. He wanted the man to hear what was coming next. A sadistic smile curled his thin lips. “By killing her, it will be possible to remove the materia from her body, and I will offer it to Zirconiade, who will finally become whole.”

“You bastard,” Shears mumbled as Fuhito turned away from him.

The Raven on his left swung his boot, planting the toe of it in his stomach. The blow lifted Shears off the ground and threw him onto his back where he laid drifting in and out on the verge of unconsciousness. His insides felt like mush. His left eye was too swollen to see through. When the Ravens had gone, he rolled over and spit out a tooth in a bloody glob of saliva. He ordered his body to move, to get up and go after Fuhito and Elfe, but it wouldn’t respond to his demands.

Then his phone rang. When it wouldn’t stop, he painfully fished it out of his shirt pocket and turned on the speaker.

“Shears?” It was Cissnei. She sounded panicked. “Hey! Can you hear me?”

“Fuhito…” Shears gasped painfully. “He took…the support materia…”

“They made away with mine as –”

“Cissnei,” he interrupted her urgently. “…Fuhito… He has… found a… way to… perfect the summon…”

“Are you serious?” he heard her gasp. “No, this can’t be happening! We won’t be able to handle a complete summon.”

“We have to stop him… Save Elfe…” He paused to cough up another glob of blood. “After the summoning… Fuhito is going to… extract the materia from Elfe…”

“But that will kill her!” exclaimed Cissnei.

“I know that!” he screamed.

The line went silent.

“Shears!?” Cissnei shouted into the phone.

“…I’m leaving… Elfe… to you…” he mumbled. “I won’t make it…”

“Shears!”

He lowered the phone as she screamed his name through the speaker. He couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. He just needed to rest.

* * *

[Midgar Dump]

Three infantryman aimed their rifles down the tunnel towards the approaching Turks. The men had made it through both lines of defense mechs without so much as slowing down. They had expected as much. They had known they would arrive sooner or later and were told to be prepared.

“They’re here!” the captain shouted and raised his rifle to his shoulder. “Fire!”

The Turks dove into the fire head-on and undaunted and easily overcame the low-ranking troopers blocking their path, leaving the men crumpled on the ground in their wake. Reno surged ahead of the others. They had reached the end of the tunnel. A heavy metal door was set into the wall. A glowing red light was positioned above it.

“This it?” he asked anxiously as he approached a small control panel attached to the wall beside the door. “How’re we gonna open it? Tseng, did you get a code?”

Tseng and Rude caught up and joined him at the control panel. Rude pushed his comrade aside and studied the device.

“I’ve got this,” he told the others, then hauled back and hammered a large gloved fist into the screen.

The screen shattered, and he pulled a fist full of wires out of the panel. A small eruption of sparks accompanied the act and a haze of smoke seeped out. The light over the door turned green, followed by the sound of the lock disengaging. The noise echoed in the metal lined tunnel, and the door slid open an inch. Tseng grabbed the edge of the door and forced it open the rest of the way, allowing the tunnel’s dim light to flood into the dark space beyond.

“Sir!” Tseng shouted as he stepped inside.

Verdot looked up from his position seated on the floor of the cell. He had been leaning against the back wall, his head reclined back as he dozed. The sound of the door accompanied by the sudden influx of light had stirred him. Raising his arm, he shielded his eyes as Tseng’s form filled the doorway. Before he could respond, the young Turk was kneeling at his side.

“You!?” he startled, looking over at Tseng’s face. “What are you doing here!?”

“We’re here to get you out,” Reno explained, appearing on his other side seemingly out of nowhere.

Working with Tseng, Reno helped pull the Chief to his feet. He was thinner than they remembered, and moved stiffly. Faded bruises patched the skin on his face and undoubtedly covered the rest of him, too. Despite all this, he had the strength to glare at the two of them.

“You do this and you’ll never be able to return to Shinra,” he warned them as they led the way out of the cell.

Reno shrugged the threat off. “We’re just doing our job.”

“In a broad sense,” Rude clarified and greeted the Chief as he stepped out of his prison.

Verdot shook his head and couldn’t help but smile at his protégés.

“Your execution would be a great loss to Shinra. You are a vital asset to the company, sir,” Tseng said staunchly. It was the Turks’ job to protect the company, even from itself. “Come. Cissnei is standing by with an escape vehicle.”

“All right…” Verdot conceded and stood up taller as Tseng and Reno stepped aside and looked to him to proceed. He would lead his men one more time. “Tseng. Reno. Rude. Let’s go.”

* * *

[President Shinra’s Office]

“Mr. President,” stammered the infantryman. “Chief Verdot has escaped his cell… It was the Turks.”

“Damn those blasted Turks!” President Shinra raged as he hammered his desk repeatedly and drove the messenger from the room.

The Turks may have taken Verdot, but if they were at the dump, then that meant their headquarters was empty. Now was his chance to retrieve Rufus without interference. With his son out of the Turks' grasp, he would once again have the upper hand against them, and nothing would stop him from eliminating them and Verdot.

Chapter 56: 22: The Threat that Pierces the Heavens, part 4

[Midgar Dump]

The sound of racing footsteps echoed loudly through the tunnel as Chief Verdot led the way back towards the entrance to the dump. No more defenses had appeared to block their escape – both a fortunate and unexpected scenario. As they ran, Tseng’s pager went off. He snatched it from his belt and lifted it to his ear without slowing down.

“Tseng!” It was Cissnei. “We’ve lost all of the support materia.”

His pace slowed significantly as he lowered his eyes to the tunnel floor. Ahead of him, the others came to a stop and stared back at him, a feeling of dread creeping into their guts as they watched a shadow fall across his face. “What!?” he shouted back, sounding incredulous.

“I’m taking a chopper to pursue AVALANCHE,” Cissnei responded.

Tseng started forward again, phone pressed against his ear as he brushed past the others. The look on his face only tightened the knot forming in Reno’s stomach.

“What’s going on?” he asked as Tseng passed by. Tseng ignored him.

“You’re going back to the Shinra Building?” he asked Cissnei, hoping she wasn’t doing just that. It was too dangerous.

“I’m already there,” Cissnei confirmed.

Tseng took a deep breath and glanced over his shoulder to see that the rest of his team was still following. “…I see,” he finally conceded. “All right. We’re counting on you.”

“Understood.”

“Cissnei?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Be careful.”

* * *

[Shinra Building]

The elevator Cissnei was on came to an abrupt halt on the 65th Floor. Its doors slid open slowly, and she had no choice but to cautiously exit the car. A whirring siren erupted over the intercom system accompanied by flashing red lights overhead. A monotone warning repeated over the speakers:“Emergency alert. Intruder detected. Security level moving to S. Emergency alert. Intruder detected. Security level moving to S…”

She had to be the intruder. That would explain why the elevator stopped. She cursed her bad luck. Fortunately, she was familiar with the company’s lock down protocol. With the elevators shutdown and the doors to the stairwell locked as well, movement between floors would be impossible. The only way to enter the stairwell now would be with a keycard. That meant there had to be a guard somewhere on her floor. She checked the hallway in both directions. She could hear muffled footsteps on the thick carpet around the corner. She hurried towards them and waited. As she listened, she heard the guard activate his radio.

“Nothing here,” he reported dryly.

She waited for him to put the radio away, then stepped around the corner. Drawing her pistol, she shot the man in the back. With a moan, he collapsed to the floor face down. Running over to him, she hastily rolled him over and tried not to look at his face.

“Please forgive me,” she muttered as she frisked his uniform.

She located the keycard in his breast pocket and snatched it from its clip before jumping to her feet and bolting towards the stairwell door. She swiped the card over the surface of the reader and heard the soft click of the lock disengaging. Jerking the door open, she jumped onto the first step and started up. She leaped up the stairs two at a time, pulling herself up with the handrail when her legs began to tire. Somewhere above her, she heard a door slam open. Craning her neck back, she looked up the stairwell and saw an infantryman leaning over the railing from the upper floors watching her.

“Hey!” he shouted and pulled his rifle over the railing.

Without hesitating, Cissnei pointed her pistol skyward and shot the man through the heart. His body slumped over the railing as his rifle pin wheeled down through the center of the spiraling staircase. She sprinted the last flight of stairs and burst through the door to the roof. Two guards on either side of the door were startled by her dramatic appearance. The man on the right was struck by the door. The man on the left was incapacitated by Turk’s elbow striking his throat. Both men crumbled to the ground as Cissnei sprinted across the helipad to the nearest chopper.

Making her way into the cockpit, she took the pilot seat and started the rotors. The blades beat to life overhead and soon lifted the machine off the pad. As the chopper rose into the air, she pivoted it to face the sixth sector. With any luck, the stolen trucks were still in the area. They would be easy to spot. Locating the highway, she followed it into the sector. Below, she sighted the two trucks speeding west. Throwing caution aside, she descended the chopper at a dangerous pace. Pulling back on the yoke at the last second, the helicopter leveled out just feet above the pavement and immediately behind the second truck. She maneuvered the front end of the chopper even with the speeding vehicle and rammed it from the side. The sudden impact caused the truck to fishtail erratically right and left. A second collision was enough to tip the truck. It rolled over several times, leaving a trail of debris strewn out behind it as it came to a stop on its side in the middle of the road. Some distance ahead of them, the lead truck braked to a halt.

Cissnei hastily set the chopper down on the highway and evacuated the cockpit. Clutching her pistol, she raced towards the crumbled truck. If even just one materia was on board, she had to get her hands on it. As she drew near, she saw a Raven crawl out from the wreckage, dragging himself over a sea of shattered glass as he emerged from the broken windshield. He clutched two glowing materia in his left hand.

“Stop!” she screamed at him.

Turning away from her, the Raven staggered to his feet and ran for the other truck. Its passenger side door flung open, and Fuhito stepped down out of the cab and onto the pavement, anxiously watching the situation.

“Hurry!” he ordered the Raven, holding out his hand. “Give me the materia!”

The Raven reached him with his arm outstretched, and placed the materia in his leader’s hands before collapsing at his feet. Turning abruptly away from the man, Fuhito hurried towards the back of the truck. At his command, two more Ravens emerged from the cargo hold carrying an unconscious Elfe between them. Her breathing was shallow, and her skin pale and clammy. Lowering her to the ground, they laid her out on the pavement at Fuhito’s feet. Her left hand began to emit a glowing light that pulsed in rhythm to the shimmering materia in Fuhito’s hands.

“Aaah! At last,” he sighed with excited pleasure. “The infinite power of the Planet!”

Stooping over, he placed the four materia on the ground ceremoniously around the last one housed in Elfe’s hand. As he put the last one in place, the pulsating glow burst into brilliant flash, and Elfe’s body began to lift off of the ground.

“Nooo! Get away from her!”

Fuhito turned a furious glance over his shoulder at the approaching Turk. “The Turks are here, I see. I won’t allow you to interfere,” he warned with a vicious snarl. “Pests gnawing away at the Planet’s life. Your very existence is a sin.” Then turning to the two Ravens behind him, he ordered, “Deal with her swiftly.”

The two men turned mechanically towards the Turk and started at her, determined to stop her advance. Cissnei came to a stop and watched warily as the two men moved to flank her. She wouldn’t give them a chance and charged. She fired her last bullet into the man on her right and whipped the empty weapon around to crash into the temple of the man on her left.

Turning back towards Fuhito, she saw Elfe’s body become enveloped in a sphere of burning bright light as it hovered above the ground in front of him. Wisps of tentacle like light radiated out from the orb and danced towards the sky. The four support materia levitated around it, glowing red, green, blue, and yellow. They then began orbiting the sphere of light, spinning faster and faster before shooting up towards the sky high above Midgar.

“All the conditions have been fulfilled!” Fuhito announced triumphantly as Cissnei drew near.

With one last brilliant flash, the light ceased and Elfe fell back to the ground motionless. In the night sky above, a large sphere like a blue sun began to expand over the Shinra Building as the sky around it transformed to an eerie blood–red. Bolts of white light cut through the surrounding air, appearing to emanate from the sphere itself. Fuhito stared up at the sight in apparent awe and admiration.

“How… how glorious,” he crowed. “Such majesty, such beauty. Such solemn splendor. The light that shines the utter and profound truth upon all in the universe!”

Cissnei staggered over to Elfe’s still form and looked back up at the foreboding sky. She felt her legs grow weak as she collapsed to her knees beside her.

“It’s actually happening…” she uttered under her breath. “The summoning has begun.” She had failed.

Fuhito turned his menacing gaze towards the two women. Focusing on Elfe, he announced, “This girl has played her part. The time has come to liberate the materia from her body.”

A gleaming knife appeared in his right hand as he stepped towards them. With a guttural scream, Cissnei whirled around and planted herself firmly between him and his prey.

“No! I will protect her from you!” she screamed at him, her voice raw with desperation.

“Give her back,” Fuhito growled, pointing the tip of the knife threateningly towards the Turk.

“I refuse!” Cissnei defied him. “If Zirconiade becomes complete, it will be the end of everything! I won’t let you get away with it!”

A strong wind kicked up around them.

“You insist on getting in my way!?” Fuhito fumed, his lips curling up in an inhuman like snarl. “Then you will die!”

As he moved to lunge towards her with the knife, the four support materia spiraled back down from the sky. Fuhito stopped in his advance as they cascaded down among them and began dashing around him and Cissnei. He and the Turk turned in unison, watching their movements and temporarily forgetting about each other. The materia flashed rhythmically as they circled the area, encroaching ever closer.

“What’s going on!?” Cissnei exclaimed.

The materia spiraled in closer and again began orbiting around Elfe. As they did so, a bright light once more flashed around her, consuming her form and lifting her off the ground. Protectively, Cissnei started towards her, but was stopped by Fuhito’s hand on her wrist. His grip was vice-like and painful as he yanked her back. She was so entranced with Elfe’s condition that she didn’t even think to struggle.

“What’s happening!?” she muttered under her breath.

As she asked it, Elfe’s left hand rose above her body as though lifted by an unseen force. The materia implanted in it pulsed rapidly. In a sudden eruption of light, it shot upward, tearing itself out of her body and leaving her hand to drop limply back down to her side. Free of its human housing, the summon materia joined the revolution of its supporters hovering above Elfe’s limp form. Like a cataclysmic rendering of the planets, the orbits of the four support materia collapsed inward as though being sucked in towards the primary summon materia. As the five pieces collided, they merged, melding and fusing into one as they unleashed a wave of energy outward from its center. The blast hit Cissnei and Fuhito, casting them in opposite directions up and down the highway.

Tumbling to a stop on the pavement, Cissnei pushed herself to her hands and knees to look for Fuhito.

“Ooohhh!” The scientist’s exclamation filled the air.

Cissnei looked towards the cry and saw him. The man was on his feet several meters away. The summon materia was slowly descending towards him and stopped to hover before him at chest level. He raised his arms slowly as though in a trance and loosely cupped the materia in his hands. The emanating light illuminated his face in an eerie glow. A look of wonder softened his usually harsh features as he stared into his hands as a man might look on a beautiful woman. He was completely enthralled.

“This… This must be a sign from Zirconiade,” he sighed in total wonder. “I have been tasked with the greatest of errands. To make an offering of everything for the rejuvenation of the Planet.”

“No!” Cissnei protested and stumbled to her feet. “Wait!”

Fuhito closed his hands tightly around the precious object and turned away from her. Then he fled. Cissnei took a step after him but stumbled as her legs gave out. She wanted to get up, but it was no use. She knew she’d never catch him.

Elfe was lying beside her. Crawling over to the woman, Cissnei settled on her knees and cradled her head in her arms. She was breathing. Somehow she had survived the extraction. Cissnei took a deep breath and bowed her head. Summoning her strength, she lifted Elfe in her arms and carried her to the back of the remaining truck.

* * *

“What!?” Tseng said a little louder than intended. He stopped and turned his back to the others. “There is a chance that the summon will be complete!?” he asked Cissnei. “…I understand,” he said a little more subdued. “We’ll do what we can from here. We’re counting on you.”

He lowered the phone and turned to face the others. He locked eyes with the Chief.

“Your daughter is safe,” he announced.

A look of immense relief washed over Verdot. A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he looked at the faces of his men gathered around him. “Everyone… Thank you,” he muttered. “But what about Zirconiade?”

“The summoning has begun,” Tseng informed them as he led them the last few meters out of the tunnel. Looking up at the sky they could see the orb of light expanding over the city. “The materia is in Fuhito’s hands. There is also the chance that the summon will be perfect.”

“Our worst fears have been realized…” Verdot lamented as he studied the heavens. They should have destroyed the support materia when they had the chance. He had been selfish. For the sake of his daughter, he had placed the entire world at risk.

“Don’t worry, sir,” Tseng assured him. “We are prepared to take any measures necessary to stop it.”

“Sir!?” Cissnei’s voice carried from the phone still open in Tseng’s hand. “I’ve got the truck at the rendezvous point. Will you be here soon? I need to chase after Fuhito, so I’m leaving Elfe to you.”

* * *

Cissnei parked the truck next to a small outcropping of rock not far from the border of the Sector 6 slums, right on the edge of the wastelands. Jumping down from the cab, she ran to the back and climbed up on the tailgate. Elfe was still unconscious, lying comfortably on a folded blanket on the floor. Cissnei had bandaged her hand as best she could and did her best to make her comfortable. She reached in and brushed Elfe’s hair away from her forehead. Her eyelids flinched at the gentle touch, but didn’t open. There was nothing more she could do for the woman. Tseng and Verdot would be there soon. Leaving her in their care, Cissnei jumped down from the tailgate and ran back towards the city, eyeing the growing sphere of threatening light above it.

Elfe watched her leave through barely opened eyelids. She reached a weak hand towards her retreating form and wanted to call out to her, but her voice wouldn’t come. Tired, she again closed her eyes to the world around her.

“Elfe!?”

She stirred as she became aware of a familiar presence hovering over her.

“Elfe!?”

She felt strong arms lifting her up, cradling her. “Uuunnhh…” she moaned. “Where am I?”

“It’s the Turks’ rendezvous point. Verdot’ll be here soon.”

Her eyes opened then. She was still in the back of the truck where the Turk had left her. Shears knelt beside to her, one arm under her shoulders, his other hand resting on her waist. She looked into his eyes. She couldn’t believe he was there. He had said Verdot was coming.

“Papa!?” she exclaimed and tried to sit up in his arms, fighting against his gentle restraint. “But… I can’t see him yet,” she protested wearily as she gave up her endeavor.

“What are you saying!?” Shears asked, his face showing concern as he brushed her hair away from her pale cheek.

She shook her head. “Not until I’ve defeated Zirconiade.”

He could feel her body tense and knew she was going to try to get up again. He held on to her tightly.

“How do you know about that?” he asked.

“I was aware of what was going on around me,” she explained softly. “Even though my body wouldn’t move.”

He shifted his gaze away from her. He had hoped to keep the truth from her, knowing she would feel the need to take responsibility for it. He had failed.

She lifted a shaking hand to his face and turned it back towards her. “Everything that has happened is my fault,” she told him. “That is why I have to be the one to fix things. Otherwise my sin will be too great for me to live with.”

She tried again to rise from his arms, but he restrained her easily.

“Don’t talk nonsense! You don’t have the materia anymore,” he reminded her. “The power you used to have is gone.”

“Still… I cannot very well stand by and do nothing,” she said, relaxing back in his arms again and stared out the back of the truck to the sky above Midgar. “That very light itself is painful proof of my sin.”

He followed her gaze to the growing light, his lips settling in a firm line. “Then I’ll go,” he told her.

“Shears,” she exclaimed, her eyes searching his face questioningly. “Why!? Why would you go so far for my sake!?”

“I don’t ever want to see you suffer,” he told her, gently placing his hand against her pale cheek. “That’s why I decided to join AVALANCHE.”

She placed her hand over his and closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see him. “Shears… Please, do not add to my burden,” she begged.

“There’s no reason for you to feel guilty,” he told her, then leaned down and gently kissed her forehead. “I’m going because I want to go. That’s all there is to it. You wait here.”

He carefully removed his arms from around her and propped her up against a munitions crate in the back of the truck before climbing out the back. Elfe watched him go and saw him pause to look up at the sky over Midgar. Then, without looking back, he set off for Sector 6 and soon disappeared from sight.

Chapter 57: 23: Veering Wildly Towards an Unstoppable End, part 1

Fuhito cradled the materia tightly against his chest as he ran towards the shaft of blue light descending down from the orb growing above the city. A hazy form was beginning to materialize within it. Zirconiade. Fuhito looked upon it with wonder and reverence.

“You need only wait a little longer,” he promised the god-like being. “Soon, you shall have the materia.”

* * *

[President Shinra’s Office]

“You look well,” the President greeted his guest as he snuffed out a cigar in the golden ashtray on the corner of his desk.

Across from him, the young blond haired man took the seat opposite his father with a grunt of indifference. He had no interest in small talk after four years of imprisonment. In the end, it had been his own ingenuity that secured his release, not his father’s power.

“Now then,” said the President, taking his son’s bitter silence in stride. “Tell me: what conclusions have you reached during your four years of house arrest?”

Rufus snorted derisively. “At first, I resented you for it, father. But now, I daresay I’m grateful. Thanks to you, I’ve begun to see things in a new light. I’ve learned so much in my time alone.” A genuine smile pulled at his lips. He really was grateful, because it had given him time to think and study and plan. And because of that, he was in a better position than ever to grasp the reins of the Shinra Company for himself.

* * *

[Midgar Outskirts]

Tseng led Reno, Rude, and Verdot from the dump on the west side of the city. The land surrounding Midgar was most accurately described as wasteland. Drained of the Lifestream’s energy by Midgar’s nine reactors, the landscape surrounding the metropolis was incapable of supporting natural life. No vegetation covered its spreading plains, only dust and rocky outcroppings surrounded the great city. A Shinra military truck sat parked at the base of one such outcropping, its tires coated in a thin layer of dull colored dust.

“That’s the rendezvous point right over there,” Reno told the others.

“The truck is there,” Rude added, stepping up beside him and peering out warily over the open space surrounding them.

Together they looked back down the small rise to Tseng and Verdot behind them. The younger Turk was helping the weary Chief up the slope after them.

“Cissnei has probably gone after Fuhito,” Tseng advised them as they reached the top of the slope.

In silence, they made their way down the other side of the rise towards the truck. Cissnei was nowhere to be seen. Glancing around cautiously, Reno slowly began to approach the nearby truck.

“If the truck’s here,” he mused, “then…”

As he spoke, a red-headed woman looked out from the back of the truck. Short wispy bangs shaded her blue eyes. Her face was drawn and pale, but a weak smile lifted her lips.

Behind Reno, Verdot came to a stop. Placing a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, he pushed him gently aside and stared at the truck. “Felicia?” he whispered. A shuddering breath filled his lungs, and then he shouted, “Felicia!”

Pushing past Reno, he ran the last few meters to the truck. Reaching up, he helped his daughter over the tailgate and pulled her roughly into his arms, squeezing her tightly. She threw her arms around him in return and nestled her head under his chin.

“Papa,” she cried. “…I… I finally get to see you again…” Then she let the tears flow, uncontrollably.

Verdot’s fingers tightened in her hair, pressing her against his own quivering chest as she clung to his neck. He nuzzled the top of her head, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. Elfe did likewise, burying her face in the front of his shirt and soaking it with her tears. She felt so weak, but he felt so solid pressing against her. He was real, so real. She never wanted to let him go, for fear she would wake up and he'd be gone again.

Slowly, Verdot opened his eyes and stared down at his daughter. Her face. He needed to see her face. Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he gently pried her off and held her out at arm's length. His weary eyes traced every feature of her from her thin eyebrows, to her blue-grey eyes, to her mother's petite nose. She looked so different from the young child he'd lost, yet completely the same. She was his Felicia, same as she had always been. His little girl.

“You look so pale,” he lamented, lifting a calloused hand to her face and wiping a tear from her reddened cheek with his thumb. “Don’t push yourself. I’ll take you to a doctor right away.”

“Thank you, Papa. But don’t worry about me,” she insisted as she blinked away another tear on the verge of spilling over her lashes and wiped her other cheek with the back of her hand. Then, taking a step back from his embrace, she hung her head and covered her face as another wave of tears threatened to undo her. “I…” she stammered, choking on the words. “I don’t deserve… to live.”

Verdot's breath caught in his chest, and his hands shot up to take her by the shoulders as he stared down at his daughter with dismay. “What are you saying!?” he demanded, his voice on the verge of breaking.

“I… I’ve brought everyone in the world so much suffering,” she squeaked, her voice rasping. A fresh supply of tears gathered in her eyes against her will, but she didn't have the strength to fight them back. Then she found herself once more caught up in her father's steady embrace as he pulled her in and rocked her gently against his chest.

“Don’t worry about that now,” he told her quietly as he rubbed his palm in gentle circles against her back. “There will be plenty of time to set things right later.”

“We’ll take care of that,” Tseng assured them both as he came to stand beside them.

“Yo!” Reno interrupted them. “The army’s still hot on our heels,” he warned urgently, hitching a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Midgar.

“We should get out of here while we still can,” Rude suggested as he ran past them to the truck and dropped the tailgate. Reno raced around to the driver's side door as Tseng and Verdot helped Elfe back towards the truck.

“Don’t move!” The shouted order rang out clearly through the cool night air.

All four Turks stopped in their tracks – Reno with his hand on the door handle and the others gathered at the tailgate. The sound of chambering artillery clicked all around them as they turned to face the squadron of Shinra infantry closing in around them. At the behest of one of the soldiers, Reno stepped down from the running board and joined the others at the back of the truck with his hands slightly raised by his shoulders. With a scowl, he came to stand silently beside Rude and looked towards Tseng. He stood at Verdot's side as he shielded Elfe from the firearms aimed in their direction.

As more troopers emerged from the surrounding landscape to encircle the truck, the commanding officer stepped towards them from the circle of troops, walking with his chest puffed out and shoulders squared. He had his rifle slung easily in front of him, his finger lax on the trigger. He came to a stop in front of Tseng and suppressed a victorious grin as he shifted his gaze to Verdot. He then looked to Reno and Rude before returning his gaze back to Tseng.

“For supporting the anti-Shinra group AVALANCHE, as well as sheltering the traitor Verdot, the President has declared the Turks an insurrectionist element,” he declared. “By presidential decree, the Turks are to be eliminated!”

He waved for his men to close in tighter.

Reno spit angrily to the side and glared at the approaching troops. “Looks like they caught up to us,” he growled.

“I’m sorry, everyone…” Verdot muttered.

“I knew it…” Elfe whimpered behind him. “I bring nothing but suffering to those around me.”

“Remain calm,” Tseng told them. “We’ll make it out of this. The Turks always do.” He locked eyes with Verdot momentarily before returning his attention to the army inching in around them.

* * *

Cissnei approached the wide shaft of blue light shining down at the center of Sector 6. The other Turks had already gathered. Juget, Emma, Ruluf, Alvis, Freyra, Balto, and Maur stood waiting for her.

“We're ready,” Juget welcomed her. “Zirconiade must be waiting inside…”

“Fuhito must have already come this way,” Cissnei warned them, making her way to the front of the group and squinting into the light. “Zirconiade has not yet fully materialized. We still have a chance to beat it. But we have to take back the materia from Fuhito to do it. I'll go after Fuhito. Everyone else, start making your way up to Zirconiade. Look for the support materia. They are its energy source. If we can destroy them, that may weaken the summon enough for us to destroy it.”

Within the light, a way forward had been made in the wake of Zirconiade's summoning. Four paths meandered around the edge of the shaft. They would lead to the four summon materia. One solitary path ran straight and true up the center towards the still-forming summon itself. In the distance, on the center path, Fuhito could be seen running towards his heart's desire. Drawing her weapon, Cissnei charged into the light after him.

* * *

[President Shinra’s Office]

President Shinra leaned back in his oversized chair, with a cigar in one hand and a nearly empty tumbler of liquor in the other, staring back at his son seated across from him at the boat-like desk. Rufus was being uncharacteristically amiable. The President tried not to grin. It seemed his long stint under house arrest had indeed improved his son’s disposition. For hours they had been discussing business, long into the early morning hours. They hadn’t talked like this since – he couldn’t remember. Probably never. Maybe he should’ve tried locking him up a long time ago. The President choked back a snort and returned his attention to Rufus. Behind him, he became aware of an ever increasing glow peeking through the edges of the thick velvet curtains covering the large glass pane at the back of his office. He stole a glance at his watch. It was still hours from sunrise. Swiveling his chair, he looked towards the window.

“It is unusually bright outside tonight. Just like the future of my company,” he quipped, then chuckled at his own clever analogy as he turned back to Rufus and reached to refill his tumbler. “The only ones standing in my way now are those damned Turks,” he growled.

Rufus stared back at his father as he leaned casually back in his chair. His elbows rested on the armrest with his fingertips pressed lightly together in front of him as he trained his face into a pleasant smile. “Father…” he started. “No, excuse me, Mr. President…” he humbly corrected himself. “I have a proposal for you: one that will surely ensure the glory of this company.”

President Shinra paused with his glass half raised. “What?” he asked, his eyebrow lifted in interest. “Well…” he considered as he met Rufus’s earnest gaze. “I’ll at least hear you out.”

* * *

“Fuhito!” Cissnei screamed the man's name with all the anger that had been building within her since she first confronted him.

The man came to a stop and turned around to face her. Equal amounts of malice and determination filled his dark eyes. Pulling his lips back into a snarl, he growled at her, “The Turks, I see. First, I should extend my sincerest gratitude. Zirconiade could never have been summoned without your efforts.”

“Shut up!” Cissnei screamed, drawing her shuriken and pointing it at him threateningly. “As though we’d ever willingly help you.”

Moving impossibly fast, Fuhito drew his weapon and fired it at the Turk. Cissnei ducked sideways, somersaulted, and came back up to her feet, weapon ready.

“Be silent,” Fuhito pleaded calmly, as though making a reasonable request. “Just beyond this point, Zirconiade is preparing to awaken. Soon, this Planet will be reborn before our very eyes. Everything must return to the Lifestream for the sake of the Planet. Only then will the life lost be restored. I will not allow anyone to interfere.”

Then he fired the blaster at her again. She saw the laser streaking her way. Before she could react, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her out of the line of fire. With a gasp, she landed hard on her side several feet away as the ground she had been standing on was incinerated to ashes. As she stared at the blackened earth, she heard a labored grunt on the ground behind her. Pushing up onto her elbow, she looked over her shoulder as the arm withdrew from around her.

“Shears!” she gasped.

“What’s wrong?” he said through a grimace. “I thought you were faster than that.”

“Shears!” she exclaimed again. “How did you get here!? Are you all right?”

She saw then the extent of the injuries to his face and could only imagine the breaks and bruises hidden beneath his clothing. He looked like he'd been through hell. If the Ravens had done it to him, then hell was probably an accurate description. He was fortunate to still be alive. With some effort he pushed himself to his feet.

“If it’s for Elfe’s sake, then I would suffer anything,” he declared, clenching his jaw as he straightened. He offered Cissnei a hand up and met her eyes as she took it. “Thanks to you I got to see her again,” he said with a pained smile as he pulled Cissnei her feet. “I won’t let her suffer any more than she already has. That’s why I’ll defeat Zirconiade,” he declared, looking over Cissnei's head towards Fuhito.

The man had turned his back on them, once again enthralled by Zirconiade's awakening. Enraged further by his dismissal of them, Shears brushed past Cissnei and started towards him. “Fuhito!” he shouted, “You’re the one responsible for the brunt of Elfe’s pain. I’ll never forgive you!”

Then, he lunged towards the man, covering the short distance between them in two strides. Fuhito whirled around at the sound of his approach, but was too late to defend himself. With a throaty battle cry, Shears rammed his fist into Fuhito's face, knocking the man unceremoniously to the ground. Fuhito landed sprawled on his back. His glasses were shattered, as well as his nose. Blood streamed from both nostrils as he laid motionless with Elfe's materia still clutched in his left hand. Shears stood over his prone form, his chest heaving with both exertion and anger.

“The materia!” Cissnei screamed at him. “Take it back!”

As she said so, Fuhito propped himself up on his elbows and glared up at Shears. Snarling, he pulled himself away, crawling backwards one inch at a time.

“Zirconiade’s awakening…” he coughed and spit up a mouthful of blood. “I will not allow anyone to stand in the way of it. No one!”

Shears strode after the crawling man, bearing down on him menacingly, never allowing him to get out from underneath his shadow.

“Be careful, Shears!” Cissnei warned behind him. “He could still be dangerous.”

Shears snorted, disgusted. “He still has enough strength left to move. He’s got more venom in him than a snake.”

Fuhito let out a sharp cackling laugh, startling both of them. He glared past Shears to Cissnei, then let his gaze drift back up to Shears. A sinister smiled twisted his entire face. “I would do anything for the Planet,” he warned them, clutching the materia tighter to his chest. “If it means sacrificing this flesh, then I will gladly do so. If Zirconiade needs the materia to become whole, then I shall fuse it with my own flesh and offer up my body to Zirconiade.”

As he spoke, the ground beneath them all began to shake violently. Shears lunged at him then, hands outstretched towards the materia being held against the man's chest. As Shears fell upon him, a cloud of darkness began to envelope him. Both men screamed as the darkness surrounded them, then, with a burst of visible energy, Shears was violently ejected from the dark cloud and landed on his back several feet away. Running to him, Cissnei knelt down at his side and took hold of his arm as a gusting wind began to swirl around them. Shears mirrored her hold on him, catching her wrist and holding her back against the strong gale.

Huddled together, they watched the darkness recede from around Fuhito, leaving a grotesque form in his place. Fleshy bat-like wings erupted from his back, and his fingers had been stretched and fused into pincer-like appendages. Every other part of his body was similarly plagued by deformities. The only recognizable feature left was his face, still streaked with blood and twisted with hate and malice.

“Aaahhh…” he moaned, his voice a mix of triumph, pain, and pleasure. “Marvelous! This is my destiny!” he crowed. “This is the will of the Planet! I can feel the wisdom of the Planet flowing into me!”

“Have you gone mad!?” Shears shouted, shoving Cissnei aside and jumping back to his feet. “You’re nothing but a monster!” he screamed, his fists trembling at his sides.

“It is my sworn duty to protect the Planet,” Fuhito replied coolly. “This form is simply the one best suited to my task…” Raising his eyes to them, he took a step forward. “Traitors,” he snarled. “You shall perish and return to the Planet!”

Then he darted forward, his left arm stretched towards Shears. Quicker than should have been possible, his pincer-like appendage clamped around his waist and jerked him up into the air. Shears’ head snapped back, clacking his teeth together as a startled gasp was forced from his lungs.

“Shears!” Cissnei screamed.

Trapped in Fuhito’s grasp, Shears wiggled like a worm caught in the beak of a hungry bird. He could feel the powerful pincers crushing his insides and threatening to cut him in two. His hands clawed furiously at the two opposing claws, trying to pry open their vice-like grip. But the pressure exerted on him was excruciating and quickly became too much. He looked down at Fuhito and saw him watching and taking pleasure in his writhing. He opened his mouth to yell obscenities at the man, but the crushing pressure left him too breathless to speak.

“Uuuggghhh…” With a throaty growl and the last of his strength, Shears gave a final effort to free himself, pounding fist after fist down on the base of the pincer. But it did no good.

“Sheeeaaarrrs!” Cissnei screamed again, watching as his violent thrashing faded into sluggish half-conscious throes.

In a final act of cruelty, Fuhito shook the man back and forth in the air like a ragdoll before turning his back to the Turk and hurling Shears away from her in the opposite direction. It wouldn't do to have him die near the Turk where she would offer him comfort and hope in his final breaths. No, he would be sure that the man died utterly alone.

Cissnei watched helplessly as Shears’ body hit the ground with a heavy thud and laid motionless. A muffled groan escaped his barely parted lips as Fuhito started towards him. Stepping over the man, he stared down at him, much the same way Shears had stood over him only moments before. Sensing his presence, Shears eyes opened a pitiful fraction and glared up at him with all the hatred he had left inside.

“Shears!” cried Cissnei behind them.

Hearing her desperation, Fuhito threw his head back in cackling laughter that wracked his entire body. Cissnei glared at his back. The man was insane!

“Fuhito!” She screamed his name. But the man continued to ignore her pleas as he reveled in the victory of the moment.

Falling to her knees, Cissnei looked past the monster to Shears, lying helplessly on the ground before him. The monster gloating over him had done nothing but bring suffering to everyone around him: Elfe, Verdot, Shears, the Turks, Shinra; and soon the entire world would suffer because of him. Cissnei screamed again, a full-throated scream with tears streaming down her face, because she could do nothing else.

Fuhito's laughter slowly ebbed as he looked back down at the man groaning at his feet. He was so pathetic, just lying there, glaring up at him. Raising one of his claw-like arms, he positioned its sharp point over the center of Shears’ chest.

“Your life is but a speck of dust,” he taunted the dying man as he lowered the claw to rest lightly against him. Its sharpened tip easily sliced through the thin fabric of his shirt and pressed into his skin, drawing a small pinprick of blood. “Even so…” He withdrew his claw slightly, raising it straight up to hover above his sternum. “…it might still be of some small use to the Planet. Now, return to the Planet from whence you came.”

“Noooo!”

Cissnei snatched up her shuriken and streaked towards Fuhito. With yet another scream, she thrust one of its sharp points towards his back. She felt the spike pierce his flesh and threw all her strength into pushing the thrust deeper until it ruptured through the front of the monster's stomach. Her scream subsided as it merged with a growing one coming from Fuhito.

His scream quickly became an enraged roar as he staggered forward, stepping over Shears and pulling himself off the weapon's impaling spike. He spun around furiously, swinging his clawed arm in a wide arc that broadsided the Turk and sent her reeling. Cissnei’s knees hit the ground and she tumbled before coming to a stop a short distance away. Sprawled out on her side, she watched wide eyed as Fuhito turned his seething gaze towards her. Digging her fingers into the ground, she dragged herself desperately away from him as he took a staggering step towards her with an ungainly hand clamped over the hole in his stomach.

“I will not… let it end like this…” he gasped, clutching the bleeding wound at his waist with one claw while reaching towards her with the other. “At least… you will… accompany me…”

Behind him, Cissnei saw Shears stagger to his feet before dropping again to one knee. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out something that she couldn't see and clasped it against his chest as he once more got to his feet. Swaying unsteadily, he looked again at the object in his hand and took a step towards Fuhito.

“Right now, there’s… one thing I can do…” he mumbled. “This is it…”

“Shears,” Cissnei silently mouthed his name, not wanting to alert Fuhito to his renewed presence.

With great effort, he took another step towards the monster Fuhito had become, then another, and another. When he was close enough, he looked past him to Cissnei. Looking her in the eye, he tried to smile, although it came across more like a grimace.

“Take care of Elfe!” he cried as he looked back down at object in his hand. “I’m leaving the rest to you.”

With a shout, he pulled the pin on his grenade and threw himself at Fuhito's back. Crashing into him, he wrapped his arms tightly around his neck. The monster screamed in anger, swinging his arms in a furious effort to dislodge Shears from his back. Then a brilliant flash of searing hot light enveloped the two fighters and both men shrieked. The explosion sent Cissnei tumbling across the ground, and she screamed. Pushing herself to her knees, she shielded her eyes against the blast and called madly for Shears. When the flash finally subsided, Shears and Fuhito were both gone.

“Sheeaaarrrss!” she shrieked. Staring at the empty space where they had been, she cried his name again.

Then, she saw it. Where Fuhito had once been, laid a shattered orb. Zirconiade's summon materia had been broken in the explosion. Without it, the summon would continue to be imperfect, and thus, beatable. She looked up. Above her, in the shaft of light, Zirconiade's form was beginning to take shape. The other Turks would be there to fight it. But right now, she was alone.

Shears… she cried inwardly. Elfe is safe now… your wish… I’ll do it. We will defeat Zirconiade! she promised.

Wiping at her eyes, she retrieved her fallen weapon and cast one more glance at the dull, shattered materia. Then she directed her attention skyward. Zirconiade would wait for no one. She had to hurry.

Chapter 58: 23: Veering Wildly Towards an Unstoppable End, part 2

[Outside Midgar]

A ring of infantrymen formed a tight circle as they closed in around their elusive prize. The Turks were finally within their grasp, along with the traitor Verdot and the leader of AVALANCHE. At their captain's order, every man kept his gun up and trained on the enemy, making sure every Turk had at least one sight on them at all times. They all knew that even just one of the Turks could lay them all out if given the slightest opportunity. They were sneaky; they fought dirty; they were fast; and they were just plain good at their job. They didn't lose. Except for today. Today, the infantry was going to make sure they lost.

“Persistent bastards, aren’t they?” Reno growled quietly. He shot a murderous glare at the infantryman directly in front of him and took some small satisfaction in seeing the man nervously shift his weight from one foot to another.

As the two factions stared off, another trooper appeared over the rise. He ran down the slope towards them and approached the captain.

“New orders!” he announced. Coming to a stop at the captain’s side, he leaned towards his ear and relayed the rest quietly to the captain in hushed tones.

“Understood.” The captain nodded vigorously before dismissing the messenger with a lifted hand and turned back towards the captured Turks.

He pushed his way through his men and stopped on the edge of the ring. An amused smile accented his face as he swung his rifle to point at Tseng. Holding it steady, he let his gaze sweep over the rest of the group.

“The President has had a change of heart,” he announced with a sneer. “The Turks have had their charges suspended.”

The Turks stared back at him suspiciously and without celebration.

“Whaddaya mean?” Reno shot back, not buying into any such promise.

The captain ignored him and turned his gaze back to Tseng, commanding his eyes in return. “However,” he stressed, “there is one condition… You must execute the leader of AVALANCHE and Verdot.”

Tseng maintained eye contact with the captain and remained emotionless at the proclamation. To his left, Reno and Rude exchanged unbelieving glances, before looking back at the Chief and his daughter, then at the infantry captain. Reno’s eyes narrowed in disdain at the haughty man.

“We ain’t gonna swallow that!” Reno growled, his voice dripping with murderous intentions.

Still, Tseng continued to look the captain in the eye. The man continued smiling at him. Daring him to make a move.

“…Reno, Rude…” Tseng addressed his men, his voice holding a stern hint of warning.

The two men looked at their boss, unsure what he intended for them to do, but ready to execute any order he might utter next. With incredible speed, he withdrew his own pistol from his jacket and held it point blank at the face of the captain in front of him. The captain didn't flinch.

“Tseng!?” Verdot warned the younger man with a cautionary tone as he attempted to deescalate the situation, fearing his brashness would get him killed.

“Whoa! Tseng!” Reno slowly lifted a hand towards the pointing firearm, but didn't dare move with so many crosshairs aimed on him. What was Tseng thinking?! Sure, Reno wanted nothing more than to see the captain’s head blown to bits, but this was suicidal, even he knew that. He was supposed to be the hotheaded one, not Tseng. They needed him to calm down, to think this through before it was too late, before he got them all killed.

Holding his breath, Reno shifted his gaze to the captain, who was calmly staring down the muzzle of Tseng’s pistol, that idiotic grin still plastered unwaveringly to his smug face. Reno couldn’t tell what he was thinking, couldn’t read what he might do next.

The captain kept his gaze locked on Tseng as his grin widened further. “So you have made your decision,” he said with an approving nod.

“…Yes,” Tseng answered. “As the head of the Turks–” Lowering his gun, he turned to face Verdot. Meeting the older man’s eyes, he brought his pistol back up and aimed it past him to his daughter cowering behind him. “–This is my decision!” he announced as his finger tightened around the trigger. “All you troops. Reno. Rude. Remember what you see here,” he ordered. “You are witnesses to this, the end of an era.”

Without flinching, he pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession. Two slugs raced past Verdot, slamming into his daughter's chest. With a short cry, she dropped to her knees before collapsing facedown at his side. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as Verdot watched his daughter fall, a look of shock twisting his face. He wanted to reach for her, to fall on his knees and hold on to what was left of her before she was gone forever, but Tseng had transitioned his aim to him. He could feel the young man’s gaze upon his face.

“Sir! I’m sorry. But I don’t have any other choice.” Tseng's voice was void of any emotion. He was on a mission, solely focused on one thing. As head of the Turks, it was his job to secure the safety of his men and the organization he served. No matter what.

Verdot pried his eyes away from his daughter and turned slightly to meet Tseng's stare. “Tseng…” he muttered. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You… made the right decision,” he told him calmly. “This is what a Turk should do.”

Tseng swallowed audibly as he kept the weapon aimed steadily at the Chief. “Sir… I knew you would understand…” he replied. Then he took a deep breath, the only sign of emotion thus far. “Thank you… for everything,” he told him.

His finger tightened around the trigger. Then the gun fired twice more in rapid succession, and two holes opened up in Verdot's chest. The Chief clenched his eyes shut and clutched at the lethal wounds. With a fading groan, he sank first to his knees, then collapsed to his side, facing his daughter with his right hand reaching towards her.

To Tseng’s right, Rude and Reno stood watching with mouths open. Reno's hands hovered over his head, his face slack with shock.

“Tseng!” Reno shouted his name in disbelief. What have you done!? he wanted to scream, but the words refused to form.

Ignoring him, Tseng calmly lowered his gun and looked over his shoulder at the captain. The man nodded his satisfaction and began barking orders at his men, who erupted into a flurry of movement. But Reno and Rude stood frozen in place, too stunned to do anything at all. The infantrymen lowered their rifles and pushed their way past them, roughly jostling them aside as they approached Elfe and the Chief. Two men knelt on either side of each, rolling them onto their backs before taking them by their arms and legs and lifting them off the ground.

Reno watched, feeling sick to his stomach as their limp bodies were lifted first to the tailgate, then passed on to two more soldiers inside the truck bed. As Verdot and Elfe disappeared from sight, Reno fell to his knees, and braced himself up with his hands widely spread in front of him. Staring at the dirt between his fingers, he fought back another wave of nausea. The Chief was dead. And at the hands of Tseng! Why? After all they'd been through to get him back… Swallowing past the tightness in his throat, he looked up and saw Tseng was standing at the back of the truck they had just put the Chief and Elfe in. He glared at him as he watched an infantryman approach him from the far side of the vehicle.

“Where do you want to ride?” he asked the Turk.

“In the back,” Tseng answered quickly as he placed a gloved hand on the tailgate and peered inside. “I want to pay my last respects.”

“Understood.” The infantryman gave him a short salute. “Just get on quickly. We’re gonna be leaving soon.”

The man then headed for the cab and slammed the door. Left alone, Tseng put his other hand on the top of the tailgate and prepared to climb inside.

“Tseng…” Rude opened his mouth to say more, but found he couldn't.

“It’s all some kind of trick, right?” Reno pleaded, still on his hands and knees in the dirt.

Letting go of the tailgate, Tseng took a step back from the truck and turned around to face them. His gaze was nebulous and his mouth pressed in a firm line, as unreadable as ever. No sign of emotion. No sign of remorse. “……I’m returning to headquarters,” he told them, his voice as steady as it always was. “This was for the best… You should get on too.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned back to the truck and started to climb inside.

“Come on!” Reno shouted after him, his voice pleading. “Tell me that none of this is real!”

Tseng paused with one leg over the tailgate. Without looking back at either of them, he said, “If you’re not coming, then…”

When neither answered him, he swung his other leg into the truck and retreated from sight. Settling on the long bench in the back, he rapped on the rear window and signaled for the infantryman to go. The man acknowledged the Turk with a glance in his rearview mirror and started the engine. The truck rumbled to life and shifted into gear.

Outside the truck, Rude watched in silence as it made a sharp U turn around them and accelerated back towards Midgar.

“Aaaaarrrgh!” Crossing his arms over his head, Reno pressed his forehead into the dirt and screamed.

Chapter 59: 24: The Concerto Played Out to its Straining Point + Epilogue

Zirconiade was a celestial being. Even not fully formed, its appearance was both majestic and terrifying. Two large circular wings arched up from its back, creating a sinister dark halo behind it. Shimmering antler-like projections graced the top of its head like a glorious crown, and a thick collar encircled its shoulders. Four arms lifted graceful out from its body, while its slender torso spread out into a skirt-like formation comprised of numerous sickle shaped forms.

Cissnei stared up at the terrible beast as she drew near, stepping forward to join her disjointed line of comrades doing the same. Flashes of lightning bolted down around it, zigzagging brilliantly from one side of the shaft of light to the other. One bolt struck too close for comfort, and Cissnei ducked reflexively. To her left, Ruluf did the same.

“We destroyed the support materia!” Emma shouted to her over the roar of the storm. “I think its fading!”

“It worked?!” Cissnei shouted back.

“It seems so!” confirmed Ruluf.

Another crash of thunder exploded in the air, followed by an otherworldly shriek. Zirconiade's screams of rage shook the very ground under their feet as its weakened body began to quiver. Cissnei covered her ears as its screams continued., rising higher and higher as it reached a piercing crescendo until suddenly it ceased. Cissnei looked up as shafts of golden light burst violently from its face and torso, and its wings shattered into a thousand sharply pointed fragments. The rest of its form followed suit, bursting into sparks of glowing green lights as an intense energy wave emanated from its disintegrating core.

Cissnei looked to her left and right and took hold of Emma and Ruluf's hands as the ground again began to tremble. “The shock wave is coming!” she warned. “It’s too dangerous to stay here!”

“There’s nowhere to run!” Ruluf told her, looking pointedly around them at the collapsing plate beneath their feet.

With nowhere else to go, Cissnei, Emma, Ruluf, Balto, Alvis, Freyra, Juget, and Maur joined hands and braced for the impact of the approaching shock wave.

* * *

Reno slowly opened his hands and allowed the fistfuls of dirt to slip between his fingers as he finally sat back on his heels. He reluctantly raised his gaze towards Midgar and the Shinra Building towering at its center. Rude stood silently close by, his dark glasses concealing whatever thoughts were passing behind his eyes. With a defeated sigh, Reno looked back down at his hands lying uselessly in his lap. What now? he wondered. He felt like he was in a dream, and all he wanted to do was to wake up.

A low rumble like the sound of thunder echoed through the air overhead, growing louder with each passing second. In unison, the two Turks looked up towards the sky as streaks of lights began to erupt from the sphere hovering above Midgar.

“What the…?” Reno got slowly to his feet and came to stand next to Rude. “What’s happening!?” he asked, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Reaching up, Rude pulled down his dark glasses and stared at the disintegrating sphere. “Zirconiade is… breaking apart…” he muttered.

Reno stared at the phenomenon, his mind racing. “How–?”

“What about the others!?” Rude suddenly asked, raising a pointing finger towards the city. “They’re up there…”

“Cissnei, Ruluf…”

A large explosion erupted from the center of the sphere in the form of a visible shock wave spreading across the sky. Reno and Rude both flinched at the sudden explosion, shielding their faces from the distant blast. After the passing of the initial wave, the eerie creaking sound of twisting metal echoed from the city.

“It’s collapsing!?” Rude gasped as the dome of light began to crumble. Their comrades…

“Nooo!” Reno screamed, his throat already raw. “Guuuyyys!”

* * * * * * *

[9 December 0007]

[Executive Conference Room. Shinra Court of Inquiry]

Tseng sat stoically at the end of the long conference table across from President Shinra with an armed guard stationed on either side of him. At the opposite end, the President leaned over the dark table's polished surface, his elbows resting on its rounded edge. To his left sat Director Scarlet, regarding the Turk with half hooded eyes and a mirthless smile. To his right was Director Heidegger, standing with his chest proudly puffed out and his shoulders uncomfortably squared as he offered Tseng an unfriendly smirk. Between the two directors, President Shinra commanded the court and regarded the head of the Turks with an unreadable stare. The inquisition had gone on for more than two hours. The Turk had answered countless questions concerning the events of the last several months. His future, as well as his life and those of his remaining subordinates, were in their hands.

“Finally, there are the reports of the Turks’ troublesome behavior,” Heidegger concluded, procuring a convenient list of perceived transgressions against the company. He laid the neatly organized document on the desk and slid it before President Shinra.

The President stared down his nose at the page and took his time perusing the list. “Good work,” he praised the director.

“President, the Turks should clearly be disbanded,” Scarlet urged as she cast Tseng a narrow eyed glance. She smiled at the handsome young Turk tauntingly. “It’s practical that only three survived the execution order, isn’t it?”

Tseng kept his eyes firmly set on the President alone and said nothing in his own defense. Furthermore, he refused to give the venomous woman any reaction to the painful reminder of the loss of the people under his command. He would stand firmly by his actions as a Turk. His determination would not waver in the face of their accusations and threats of execution. He did what he did in the best interest of all involved, including the company. He would not apologize for it.

The President lowered the page and hummed in amusement. “Well then, I believe we all know the verdict,” he declared. Folding his hands on the desk before him, he leveled a steady gaze on Tseng. “The General Affairs Investigations Division, also known at the Turks–”

With a loud crash, the doors at the back of the conference room burst open. The two troopers on either side of Tseng turned to face the entrance and faltered with their rifles half raised.

“Let us reconsider that decision,” Rufus Shinra suggested from the open doorway.

Tseng remained facing forward as the President, Scarlet, and Heidegger looked past him to the Vice President. The directors’ faces were both contorted with shock and displeasure at the intrusion as they took in the unexpected sight of Rufus flanked on either side by the other two remaining Turks, Reno and Rude.

“Rufus!” President Shinra thundered and rose from his chair.

“Why are you here?” Scarlet demanded as she and Heidegger worked to regain their composure. “Aren’t you supposed to be on a long business trip?”

Rufus snorted at the suggestion and ignored her question as he crossed the threshold into the conference room. It occurred to him then that the directors had not seen him in nearly five years. He couldn't blame them for being flabbergasted by his unannounced entrance now; though, quite frankly, he didn't care what they thought. He crossed the room with a confident stride and came to stand behind Tseng.

“I’m here to prevent one of the Shinra Company’s greatest losses,” he declared, sweeping his steely gaze across everyone in the room.

“Losses?” Scarlet sneered.

The President lifted a hand to silence her and fixed his gaze on his son. “Our company’s prosperity has already been secured,” he assured all of them.

“Apparently…” Rufus conceded with a shallow laugh. “Though it seems to have become rather decrepit in my absence.”

“What!?” his father bellowed, rising halfway out of his chair.

“One must always foresee all risks,” Rufus countered in calm contrast to his father. “But that would be something the President himself has taught me.”

President Shinra could only glare back at him, struggling for words. “You… What are you…?”

“To be frank,” Rufus interjected. “The Turks should remain.”

“No!” his father roared, thrusting an accusing finger towards Tseng. “As it is now, the Turks are a threat to our company.”

“That way of thinking is a mistake,” Rufus countered and placed a protective hand on Tseng’s shoulder. “Verdot and the leader of AVALANCHE have been terminated. This is without doubt proof enough of the Turks’ loyalty.” He paused to cast his gaze across the length of the conference table at all present. His stare dared anyone to contradict him, including his father. “Any objections?” he prompted.

Heidegger and Scarlet looked to the President but remained silent. The President himself, glowered at his son, but he, too, had no argument to make. Rufus was an impudent young man, with his own ideas. He would no doubt insist on getting his way. Rufus met his father’s gaze with a victorious smirk as he removed his hand from Tseng’s shoulder. As he did so, the Turk rose from his chair. He offered the President and the directors a courteous nod and turned to Rufus. Without another word, the Vice President let his gaze linger on their audience only a moment longer then turned for the door, sweeping past Reno and Rude with Tseng on his heels.

Rude and Reno fell into step behind Tseng, following the Vice President to the elevators and to the upper floors without anyone speaking a word. When they reached the rooftop helipad, Rufus crossed to the far side and stood looking down at the circular city spiraling out below. A cool early morning breeze flapped the tail of his unbuttoned white blazer and stirred the few loose hairs pushed back from his forehead. He shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, still not saying a word.

Behind him, Tseng stood with hands clasped behind his back. Reno and Rude stood on either side and a step behind. They were the last of the Turks, and barely at that it would seem. Tseng’s expression had hardly changed since leaving the conference room. His dark eyes remained fixed on Rufus’s back as his dark hair – no longer confined to a ponytail – blew freely across his back. What would happen now?

Rufus’s shoulders rose a mere fraction of an inch as he breathed in deeply of the night air. The cool breeze was scented with the familiar tinge of mako.

“You’ve worked hard,” he finally spoke over his shoulder. Producing a folded page from his blazer, he held it out to the Turk. Tseng took the page and briefly scanned its contents. It was a report, dated the night of Zirconiade’s appearance.

0007/10/5

The leader of AVALANCHE assassinated.

Verdot, the former leader of the Turks, terminated.

Nearly all of the Turks missing in action.

Signed: Rufus Shinra

A bemused smirk lifted one corner of Rufus’s mouth as he watched the Turk read the brief document archiving the Chief’s death. “That was quite a good performance, Tseng,” he congratulated him.

Tseng accepted the praise quietly as he thought back to the events that had taken place outside of Midgar that night. Thanks to Rufus’s arrangements, his assassination of Verdot and Elfe had been nothing more than a well-played ruse. Whatever Rufus’s motives had been, Tseng acknowledged they were now in his debt. “We owe you a lot, Mr. Vice President,” he replied, tipping his head respectfully. “On behalf of all the Turks, I thank you.”

Rufus snorted dismissively. “Make no mistake,” he warned him. “Don’t think I did this for your sake…… But if you say so, then by all means: show your gratitude in the work that you do.”

“Yes, sir,” Tseng replied, tipping his head again in solemnity.

Turning away from the cityscape, the Vice President strode past his small band of Turks. He nodded to them as he passed by and headed for the elevator without another word. The Turks watched their new benefactor until he was concealed by the elevator doors, leaving the three of them alone.

Reno looked over at the other two with a somber expression. “Only the three of us, huh…” he mused as he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked out over Midgar towards Sector 6.

Despite the relief brought by the revelation of Verdot and Elfe’s survival, the loss of all their other comrades weighed heavy on the organization. Cissnei, Ruluf, Emma, Maur, Alvis, Freyra, Juget, Balto… they hadn’t returned after Zirconiade’s collapse, nor had their bodies been retrieved from the wreckage at Sector 6.

“Not enough?” Rude challenged him.

“No matter what, we will always carry on,” Tseng reminded them. “For the Chief… As well as for our lost comrades–”

A wailing siren cut him short as the red lights atop the building’s signal tower began to strobe. Tseng, Rude, and Reno froze as they listened to the warning blaring over the speakers.

“Emergency alert! Emergency alert! Intruders in Mako Reactor 1!”

The announcement cycled on repeat as they exchanged glances.

“Weeell then,” Reno drawled, a lopsided smile pulling at one end of his mouth. “Straight back to work, huh?”

“Time to go,” Rude agreed and turned towards the elevator.

Reno turned to Tseng and awaited orders. “Tseng, sir?”

“From here on out, the Turks will be different,” he told Reno and Rude as he started towards the elevator. “However, one thing remains the same… Our pride in our work.”

“Yes, sir!” Reno saluted, an eager grin splitting his face.

Tseng strode past them, as the emergency warning repeated itself again over the air.

“Let’s go,” he ordered.

Notes:

The emergency alarm at the end signals the beginning of FFVII (OG and Remake). There is also one more epilogue scene in BC where all the BC Turks return to help evacuate Midgar during Meteor Fall but I'm waiting for the ending of Remake to decide how I want to write that.

Otherwise, that concludes Before Crisis! Thank you for every comment, kudos, bookmark, and hit! I am still working on novelizing other parts of the compilation as well. If you are interested, check out my sample chapters of other compilation works (also posted on AO3) and let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to see next.