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I-Aftershock What little of the world that could be called civilized—and even that was a lie, what with all the monsters running about—was found on three major continents. None had specific names, for there were no countries. There were towns and cities, to be sure, but the only government the world knew was called Shin-Ra. Led by presidents of the same name, Shin-Ra Inc. was an electric power company that had been the first to realize an extraction method for the most plentiful and useful energy source in the world. Termed “Mako” the energy was extracted from the earth by powerful and complex devices called, fittingly, Mako Reactors. With Mako energy, the world seemed to have a never-ending energy supply, but they depended on the Shin-Ra group to get it for them. As the world depended more and more upon his company, President Shinra saw his chance and transformed Shin-Ra, Inc. from a power company to a government, and before anyone really knew it, Shin-Ra had the world in its grasp. It grew so large it had to divide itself into five main departments. The problem was that the Mako energy that had made Shin-Ra famous was actually the lifeblood of the Planet. As more and more Mako Reactors appeared on the Planet, the more the Planet began to wither. The only ones who could comprehend why resided in an ecological preserve known as Cosmo Canyon, and their enforcers, AVALANCHE, protected the Canyon from Shin-Ra men looking to build a reactor there. The Shinra Empire spanned the whole world, but their headquarters was in the giant, floating city of Midgar. The continents of the world formed somewhat of a triangle; there were two running parallel to each other and another continent to the north. The “Eastern Continent” was where Midgar could be found. Here was the massive Shinra Headquarters building, where the Shinra Barons resided. However, the city was currently in turmoil. Many rebellions against Shinra’s harsh, manipulative rule had arisen…and all had been crushed. In response to the dictator Shinra’s dreams to further the rape of the Planet’s lifeblood, the elders of Cosmo Canyon gathered soldiers to reform their AVALANCHE team. The soldiers traveled to Midgar itself with a simple plan. The megalopolis was powered by not one, not two, but eight Mako Reactors. AVALANCHE planned to disrupt as many reactors as they could and then escape back to Cosmo Canyon. However, it had of course gone sour. AVALANCHE met up with a girl who, for scientific reasons, was wanted by the Shinra. By this time, the Noble Terrorists had destroyed two of Midgar’s eight reactors, even though the second mission nearly ended in failure. In response to the attacks on his city, President Shinra pinpointed AVALANCHE’s headquarters in one of the Midgar slums. To wipe them out, Shinra dispatched a team to destroy the support pillar in that particular sector. If you knew the Midgar anatomy, you’d know that each different sector was composed of two parts, an upper and lower plate. Without the support pillar, the upper plate would come crashing down upon the lower plate, destroying everything and everyone in the entire sector of Midgar. Shinra figured that this way, there was no chance AVALANCHE could survive. Indeed, though they turned out to fight off the Shinra, AVALANCHE failed to protect the pillar. The sector disappeared in a pillar of fire and most of the AVALANCHE members were killed. Also, the girl wanted by the Shinra was apprehended during the whole mess. While it seemed Shin-Ra, Inc. had won another battle in their personal war for power, it was not so. The remnants of AVALANCHE (now the most wanted people on the Planet) congregated and set out to rescue their abducted friend and seek revenge. They managed to infiltrate Shinra Headquarters, arguably the most dangerous place known to man. Upon reaching their destination in the upper floors of the Headquaters, the rebels had learned of President Shinra’s grand plan. Shinra had also learned of them, unfortunately. After defeating Shinra’s security and saving their friend from the head of the Science Department, AVALANCHE was intercepted by an elite team and locked away, awaiting execution. Now, to enforce their rule, Shin-Ra couldn’t simply reply on empty threats. To handle usurpers and monster threats, the company formed the most powerful fighting squad in the world. Brightly named SOLDIER, its members were all showered in Mako Energy to increase their physical and mental power. All members of SOLDIER were thus stronger than all members of any other team. It wasn’t long before SOLDIER became the main army used by Shin-Ra to fight its battles. However, the SOLDIER program would serve now to be President Shinra’s undoing. Even amongst the greatest warriors of SOLDIER and the greatest generals in worldwide armies, there was one man who stood out as the best. A powerful thinker, an incredible sorcerer, and a master swordsman, he was without challenge the most powerful man alive. His origins, of course, were shrouded in mystery and most likely locked away in some vault in a Shinra lab. That man, the great General Sephiroth, important as he was, had somehow fallen off the face of the planet. He had vanished without a trace during a routine mission in a small town on the Western Continent, five years ago. Allies of Shinra bade him farewell; enemies of Shinra bade him good riddance, but there were always questions as to how the most powerful man alive had suddenly just ceased to exist. He hadn’t, and he wasn’t about to let Shin-Ra forget it. While the infernal company basked in the glory of apprehending AVALANCHE, General Sephiroth returned to the Headquarters in the middle of the night. He went on what could best be described as a killing spree. In the midst of the attack, AVALANCHE managed to escape and went to confront President Shinra. They found him dead with a long sword buried in his back. Further inspection revealed it to be the evil sword, Masamune. It was so long and heavy, almost any swordsman would find it too clumsy to wield. Except for the master of masters, anyway. Not long after, Shinra’s son Rufus came to the headquarters to take over for his father. Rufus Shinra wasn’t any nicer than his father, and squared off with the rebel leader, Cloud Strife. While the rest of AVALANCHE fled the Headquarters, these two dueled to the death, but in the end, no one died. Rufus escaped with wounds and Cloud escaped with his life. It all ended with a nice chase down the highway in which AVALANCHE was victorious. The rebels fled Midgar and were now seeking shelter. In lieu of these events, the whole world seemed on alert. Shin-Ra had officially blamed the murder of their president on AVALANCHE, although they knew very well who was really behind it. The rest of the world thought Sephiroth was dead, and if the Shin-Ra had their way, they never would know any better. If word got out that President Shinra had been killed by a single person, as great as the killer’s reputation may be, there would be doubts as to the true power of Shin-Ra’s authority. The official alert was that the AVALANCHE terrorists were on the loose and were bound to strike again. Since Shin-Ra had broadcasted AVALANCHE’s reactor bombings over the world, this alert was more than enough for the citizens, in their simple ignorance, to believe the fugitives were the real enemy. In the meantime, of course, Shin-Ra was also engaged in a black operation to find the real killer of their president. ___________________________________________________________________________ Soldiers ran busily past each other, their scurrying forms reminding the men patrolling in their helicopters of ants who had just found a scrap of food. The entire city of Midgar was under martial law, and especially the main highway used to get near the Shinra Headquarters building. Along this highway, hundreds of feet above any of the sectors before them, motorcycles lay strewn like toys from the Headquarters to the dead end where AVALANCHE had taken their leap to freedom. Nearby their vehicles were the bodies of many soldiers who had tried to intercept the noble terrorists as they made their grand escape. Each soldier on the highway now was gathering whatever information they possibly could, and where there was none (as was the case in most instances) they tried to make themselves useful by collecting the bodies of the fallen or clearing the street of the demolished bikes. No man wanted to come up empty handed for sheer fear of his commanding officers. What, with all Shinra had been through lately, the executives who’d survived Sephiroth’s attack were in an evil mood, a mood that rewarded failure rather poorly. The most impressive sight was found at the dead end of the highway, where a giant, smoking mass of metal sat in disrepair. This was all that remained of Motor Ball, the last ditch effort by Shinra to catch AVALANCHE. The robot was one of the most powerful enforcers used by Shinra’s Weapons Development department, and AVALANCHE had cast it aside like the piece of scrap seen now. Well, not really. In reality, the battle had been quite stressful on both sides, but the result was that Shinra had been defeated utterly and its enemies were now safely nestled away in hiding. Standing near the wreck, this fact was all too glaring for the tall man who shivered in the cold of the night. He wore a black suit, and his ebony colored hair reached down to his shoulders. He was tired, his nerves were frayed, and his spirits were at an all time low. Such were the results of the night from hell. He glared in spite at the area down below the wreaked end of the highway. Stabilizing the road were thick cables embedded in the asphalt. AVALANCHE had climbed down one of these exposed cables to the slums below, and from there had fled Midgar. Though it was not necessarily this man’s fault, he and his unit were taking most of the blame. Bullshit, he thought bitterly. His unit had done more than any other to stop people who obviously couldn’t be stopped, and no one else had raised a finger to help. Which made sense, he supposed, because now they couldn’t be blamed for failure if they hadn’t done anything in the first place. With a sigh, Tseng of the Turks looked over the scurrying Shinra MPs, knowing that nothing further would be procured from their efforts. The Turks themselves hadn’t been trusted with much of the investigation, and this infuriated Tseng, the leader of the group. Actually, he was simply the senior member; he and the other three Turks, and their many informants, reported to General Heidegger of Shinra’s Public Safety department. The Turks were Shinra’s eyes and ears in the world. They were seasoned spies and assassins, and often engaged in lots of black activities on the side. Regardless, they were good at their job, and they were only being kept off this investigation because they had failed to stop AVALANCHE and Sephiroth. Sure. Who in his right mind would try to stop General Sephiroth that night? Correction, there were many who had, and their bodies littered the halls of Shinra Headquarters. And it wasn’t the only reason, Tseng acknowledged, looking over his new orders. He and his two counterparts, Rude and Elena, were to pursue Sephiroth, the killer of their President. There wasn’t much doubt that Sephiroth would try to leave this continent, and unless he had a hidden base in the nearby mountains (Shinra forces were combing every inch of them at this very moment, so it was quite doubtful) he would have to go to Junon Harbor to reach the Western Continent. The quickest way to Junon was through the Mythril Mines past the old Chocobo Ranch and Mythril Swamp. AVALANCHE was not the Turks’ number one priority, and if they encountered the fugitives, they should not initiate combat. Which only made sense. The group had recently incapacitated the fourth member of the Turks, Reno, and through he was mostly recovered, he couldn’t fight just yet. However, ever useful, Reno was already in Junon, and would keep an eye on everyone in hopes of sighting someone of import. Rude was a reliable brute that, while rather quiet, was also rather bright for a muscleman. Elena was the newest member of the group, and she still had a youthful vision of the “greatness of their cause”. In other words, she took the job a bit too seriously. Rude himself was behind his boss, staring mournfully at the remains of Motor Ball. He was a stocky, tall, bald man who wore black sunglasses, perfecting the “evil spy” look. “What now?” the brute asked. He already knew, but he had to ask. “Now we do our job, I guess,” Tseng replied. “It is our job, you know. We have to correct our mistakes.” “Mainly the Ancient girl?” “Yes, mainly the Ancient girl.” Tseng grimaced. He had spent nearly twenty years of his life trying to capture the girl who was the last of the Cetra tribe, also known as the Ancients. The girl had evaded Shinra since early childhood, and even though the Turks had finally got their hands on her, she had escaped with AVALANCHE when they stormed Shinra Headquarters. It pained him that he was not allowed to retake her by force if they encountered AVALANCHE, but President Rufus had made it quite clear that the Ancient was not as important to him as it was to his father. The sudden change of leadership had not yet reached everyone in its entirety, and it would be a while before they could sort out the changes Rufus might make. The new president had an almost obsessive desire to punish his father’s killer, and, if Tseng didn’t know any better, he’d say Rufus wanted AVALANCHE for himself. And he had his reasons. Their leader had beaten him in combat, and thus shamed him. To a young man like Rufus, this could be devastating. Though he loved the power he had, and was surprisingly skilled at wielding it effectively (for his age), revenge was always on Rufus’ cold mind. “What about the new girl?” Rude asked in his low-key voice. “Elena? She’s going too, of course. We’ll need all the help we can get in tracking the vermin we’re after.” “Do you think we can do it…?” Tseng paused for a few hateful moments before answering. “No. No, I don’t think we, or any aspect of Shinra, can defeat Sephiroth. Our only chance was Jenova, and it…” “Sephiroth stole it,” Rude finished, “And god knows what he can do with it.” “AVALANCHE will go to Junon, too,” Tseng continued, not pleasantly, “And we won’t be able to take any action. It’s infuriating! The executives are so concerned about respect and their own corrupt law that they’ll never get the job done.” “Rufus might change that,” Rude pointed out hopefully, “He wasn’t the one who booted us.” “No, it was our own leader, Heidegger. But you know him. Most people need industrial wind tunnels to suck as hard as he does…he’ll bend to whatever Rufus wants.” “Inevitably, though, Heidegger will have figured out the same thing, and they’ll intercept AVALANCHE—and possibly, Sephiroth—in Junon.” “Hmm.” Tseng frowned. Wind tossing his hair every which way, the head Turk looked in the direction of Junon. “I guess we’d better be there to cover their tails, no?” “Yeah,” Rude agreed with both a smirk and a nod. “If AVALANCHE does show up in Junon the same time they do…” “Say goodbye to the ‘no engaging the enemy’ law. It’ll be ‘stop those mad people before they hurt us!’ instead.” “And we gotta do it,” Rude spat, “Irony is a cruel thing.” “Business is business,” Tseng snickered, pulling out a compact phone from his suit. “Elena?” he began after making a connection, “It’s me. Get to the Motor Ball wreckage. We’re moving out.” “Are we on…?” Rude asked, polishing a small black revolver with almost loving care.” “Yeah,” Tseng nodded, patting his concealed machine pistol, “We’re on.” _____________________________________________________________________________ Even in this era of high technology and scientific advances, men still could not fly. That was why these days, unless someone happened to hijack a jet, the only safe place to be was in the air. So it only made sense that the people in the world craving safety more than anyone else cowered high above the Planet, nestled away in the giant airship, Highwind. Shin-Ra’s finest airship hovered over the giant Midgar, as if leaving that area would be a sin. Indeed, most of those with authority who were riding this ship had not been outside their floating paradise for quite some time. Helicopters came and went, dropping off a soldier or two with an occasional report, sometimes provisions, and took more soldiers down to aid in the lockdown of Midgar. Highwind was a marvel of technology. It wasn’t futuristic or fancy, but it was incredibly efficient as a flying vessel. It was as long as any normal ship on the sea, and probably as wide. It was kept afloat by large propellers and a plethora of gizmos included by the ship’s creator in case of emergencies. Huge silver turbines were on standby on a ship composed basically of plain wood and steel. The wooden deck was large and wide, and proved a great place to unwind, provided you weren’t scrubbing it. On deck now was a man in the unwinding process. The wind blew through his dark hair, which was longer in back, reaching down to his shoulders. He wore a navy blue sports jacket, but he wasn’t a Turk. Rather, he was the head of Shin-Ra’s Urban Development Department, the group that worked on construction projects around the world. He gazed down from his floating sanctuary at his great city below. The fact that it posed a threat to him had not really registered yet, and he was still recovering from his brush with death. He, too, had been in Shinra Headquarters when the shadowy general attacked, but Sephiroth had passed by his hiding spot without any sign that he detected him. And he was grateful, because if he’d been found, he’d still be down in that city, never to leave again. Somewhat of a fledgling dictator, Reeve was not used to the abuse of power put in effect by most of the other Shinra barons. His conscience had not yet been eaten away by greed, like his comrades, and though he was an integral part of Shinra, and all the evils Shinra represented, he was still by and large a good man, if not a bit of a coward. If you could call him that, even. When General Heidegger sold his proposition of destroying all of Sector 7 to President Shinra, Reeve, closely backed by the Midgar mayor, had put all of his energy into discouraging the President. To resist violently would be instant death, and before any could call him a coward for choosing life, you’d have to put yourself in that position and think honestly what you would do. But that didn’t stop Reeve from feeling guilty. When the Sector 7 pillar fell and the sector disappeared in fire, the executive had been forced to indulge in more than a little alcohol to control his depression. He was a part of the beast, and to protest would be death. He was in a trap from which there was no escape, and he would continue to live the evil. But not totally, he’d decided. Even if he couldn’t physically break ties with Shin-Ra, he could easily provide assistance to those who had enough guts to resist. He could be an “inside man”. But no one, not even his allies, would know about it. Rubbing his hands through his dark goatee, Reeve calmed and continued his thought process. He already had a plan that would be sure to fly with his comrades. They would never suspect a thing…as long as he kept them satisfied. To do that, he may have to stab his secret allies in the back a few times, but that was tough luck. He bristled involuntarily as another presence joined him on deck. She was a tall, blonde woman wearing a scarlet colored dress, which made sense, for her name was Scarlet. The head of Shin-Ra’s Weapons Development department fixed Reeve with a curious look, which would inevitably change to a vindictive sneer. This cold woman had little to no respect for Reeve—or for anyone else—and the feeling was quite mutual. Scarlet was in command of Shinra’s military might’s ability to grow even mightier, and she was extremely effective. Her scientists had produced most of Shinra’s security robots, but all one needed to do was glance at Motor Ball to see that Shinra’s machines were far from invincible. “Can you believe it yet?” she asked him, in a tone of mild civility for once. “Not really,” he replied. “I’d never have counted on Sephiroth coming back.” “Hmph. Because of that silver-haired rat, AVALANCHE is free again.” She banged her fist on the railing. “Dammit, Reeve, we had them!” “And I’m sure we’ll have them again soon enough. They’ve taken the blame for President Shinra’s murder. People aren’t stupid enough to resist Shinra for long. They’ll be turned in eventually.” “Eventually isn’t soon enough…and you know they’ll fight back, even if we catch them.” “Then we’ll execute them on the spot, rather than put them in jail like the President did.” “The old fool!” Scarlet spat, glaring down at Midgar, “He should have known, given how far AVALANCHE had come.” Reeve smirked inwardly. Scarlet hadn’t had a problem kissing up to Shinra while he was alive—granted, she wasn’t as bad as Heidegger, but she’d still had her share of Shinra’s pampered ass to kiss. Reeve knew deep down exactly why Scarlet was so indifferent about Shinra’s passing, and it went by the name of Rufus. Scarlet had been caught quite off guard when she’d encountered the young, newly ordained dictator for the first time, and it was the only time Reeve had ever seen her so. President Shinra’s son, the new President Shinra, had been free of the spotlight for a long time, but had taken command with blinding speed and efficiency, making it seem as if there hadn’t even been a transfer of power. Heidegger, of course, was wasting no time in browning his nose even further. The renowned General Heidegger was known for a boorish attitude and a fierce temper. Whenever a superior scolded him, he took it out on his underlings, sometimes to the point of beating them to incapacitation…or even death. He had also been the driving force behind the destruction of Sector 7, and probably many more Shinra atrocities. Reeve hated Heidegger with a passion, yet, of course, Heidegger tended to show the most respect for Reeve when compared to his other executive comrades. Fate was a cruel thing. “So what now?” Reeve asked with genuine curiosity. “Rufus hasn’t said yet. I don’t think he wants to make any grand appearances while he’s still hurting from the battle with AVALANCHE. Only one first impression, you know?” Whatever Reeve would have said was cut off by the sounds of an argument exploding behind the door to the cabins. Both executives immediately turned their interest towards the noise. The cabin door burst open as an orange mass flew through it and splattered onto the deck. When it was finally discernable as a man, it was recognized as Palmer, the head of Shinra’s dormant Air and Space department. He was short, and very fat, rather bald, and quite a coward. So it was surprising that he’d even let himself get into a violent situation. He struggled to his feet, glowering at the door. “Only two people I know do that when they’re pissed,” Scarlet stated. “And one of them is meeting with the boss,” Reeve finished. Rather than a burly bully, it was a frail scientist that emerged from the cabins. Frail only at first glance, though. He was tall and thin, and was eternally suited up in a white lab coat. A greasy black ponytail hung behind him, and thick glasses shielded his eyes. Professor Hojo, the head of Shinra’s Science and Technology department, didn’t like to use physical force unless it was absolutely necessary. He wasn’t the toughest man around, but he could hold his own in a fistfight, and since he always had surprise on his side, he rarely lost. Rather, the cruel Hojo preferred inflicting his enemies with more painful woes. Someone who angered this scientist might suddenly find themselves infected with a virus that ripped their internal organs to shreds, or poisoned with a painful solution that took it’s sweet old time doing its job, prolonging the misery. No, Hojo was not a very nice man at all. “What’s up?” Scarlet asked with a frown. “Have you ever heard a fat man cry?” Hojo asked quizzically. “Several times,” she replied truthfully. “Then you’d understand…” The scientist glared at Palmer, who was fuming insanely. He had turned a very bright shade of red. “Our favorite useless executive here was experiencing a nervous breakdown.” “I’m only useless because you people don’t realize the potentials of air and space!” Palmer spat. “At least he admits that he’s useless…” Reeve said quietly. “So anyway,” Hojo continued, “I put up with it for a while because we’ve all been under stress, so I could relate. But, I regret to say I’m of a very short temper, even when I really and truly want to be nice, so things got a little violent.” “You only won because you had to take me by surprise!” “I had to make sure you wouldn’t sit on me!” the scientist retorted, raising his hands in exasperation. “Children, children…” Scarlet intervened, getting between the two. “We’ve got enough problems already, and I’m sure Rufus won’t be too happy about dealing with unruly execs in addition to AVALANCHE and Sephiroth. And remember what happens when a Shinra President gets mad?” “He barks orders to Heidegger, who goes off to do the dirty work,” Hojo finished, brilliantly. “Hojo,” Scarlet sighed, “Why do you always have to be so damn blunt?” “I like direct answers,” he replied, “As a scientist, I’ve learned to enjoy answers I don’t have to hunt down.” He turned for the door. “Now, I’m going to get some rest. I don’t care who I have to be with as long as they keep their tears to themselves. Capice?” “Amen,” Reeve nodded, following the scientist down. Palmer stared for a while, his glance briefly switching from the door to Scarlet. Finally, he grunted and followed Reeve. Shaking her head, Scarlet followed her cohorts. With the excitement of the evening gone, it was time to turn in. ____________________________________________________________________________ Deep within the bowels of Highwind, it was hardly a time for resting. Crewmembers scampered to and fro, carrying out various tasks to prepare the ship for the trip to its currently unknown destination. The cockpit of the airship was a huge, oval shaped room painted a bright blue. Computers whirred and blipped as their engineers entered the commands to access Highwind’s controls. At the head of the room was a massive window that allowed for a panoramic view of the area in front of the airship, which you have to agree, was very nice for the pilot. Barking orders while standing near the helm was a large, bulky man in a bright green army jacket that barely fit. A long, thick black beard trailed to his chest, and equally dark hair sat in a tangled mass atop his head, because there simply hadn’t been time to comb it. “How much longer?” asked General Heidegger. “By the time we get a destination, we’ll be ready to go,” the pilot replied. He was decked in the ordinary Shinra blue uniform. “Everything and everyone is on board, the crew is all here, and all systems are operational. We’re ready when you are.” “Any chance of hijackers?” asked that hoarse, booming voice. “No, sir, not a chance!” the pilot answered with force. “We’ve had whole packs of soldiers comb every inch of this ship. Not even Sephiroth can hide from that many people at once.” “Good,” the superior man answered with a sigh. “It won’t be long, I hope. I’m going see the boss right now.” There weren’t many places to relax in Highwind except for a large meeting room, so it was obvious that Rufus would be in there. Heidegger knocked briskly and was greeted by a grunt. He went inside. The room was better decorated than the rest of the ship, and in the center was a large meeting table of smooth cherry wood. Behind the head seat there was a large computerized map that could be used for navigation, among other things. None of these things were visible to Heidegger now, though, as Rufus had turned out the lights to take a rest a while earlier. He was awake now, though he still hadn’t bothered to light the room up. To someone like Palmer who had acute night blindness, this was infuriating, but Heidegger rather appreciated his boss’s love of the dark. “Are we ready?” asked a voice from the shadows. “Ready and waiting, sir,” Heidegger replied, staring through the darkness at President Rufus Shinra. He couldn’t make out any of his features, but from the strength of his voice, Heidegger decided that he had more or less recovered from the battle on the roof of Shinra Headquarters. “The problem is, we don’t know where we’re going.” “Junon,” Rufus replied at once. His voice was not entirely unpleasant, but it possessed the coldness typical of the Shinra bloodline. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of it.” “Of course I have,” Heidegger nodded, “I figured that was what you had in mind. Our killer has to leave the continent, and Junon is the best way, unless he can fly.” “Can he?” “I doubt it,” the general frowned, “But you never know with Sephiroth. Anyway, even if AVALANCHE isn’t there, Sephiroth will be.” “What are we doing about AVALANCHE?” There was a justifiable hatred in the president’s voice. “The Turks are going to Junon as we speak, but they’re making the journey on foot. If anyone is going to find AVALANCHE, it’s them, and they’ll get word to us instantly.” “Good.” President Shinra let out a long breath. “To Junon, then. What do you propose we do once we arrive? I’d dream something up myself, but I’m a bit bushed.” “Depends on how you want to go about getting Sephiroth, I guess.” “He’s a madman; whatever it takes, I’ll do it. He can’t exist if we’re to be safe.” “Perhaps we should lure him to us, rather than hunt him down?” “Gee, I never thought of that. You’re so smart.” Rufus sighed in disgust. “How?” “Well,” Heidegger responded, a bit insulted that he hadn’t been able to finish, “We give him a wide open target. Something he could never pass up.” Silence. Then, “If he killed my father, do you think he’d have it out for me, too?” “That’s why we’re leaving Midgar, sir. We believe just that.” “You want to use me as bait, is that it?” “No, I…well, yeah, but you’re not exactly going to be in a lot of danger.” “Please elaborate.” “We do something flashy, say, a parade in Upper Junon to welcome the new President Shinra.” “Makes me feel a bit overconfident, but all right. Then?” “Well, unless he’s suicidal, Sephiroth wouldn’t try to nail you during the parade, what with all the soldiers we’ll have around you. Judging from the fact that he’s trying to escape, I’d say he isn’t very suicidal, so the parade will be no problem.” “What about AVALANCHE?” “If they show up, you’ll be out of public view before you know it. We’ve done that before.” “I see. Attract Sephiroth, and then wait for him to make his move. It’s all fine and dandy, except for a few things.” “What do you mean?” “Well,” Rufus spoke as if addressing a child, “What if Mr. Assassin has already crossed the ocean? What good will the parade do?” “Well, none, obviously…no one can say for sure where he is.” “Next, what about snipers?” “Like I said, we’ve done this before. No corner of Junon will be left unobserved.” “Well, then I suppose it boils down to one thing.” The president leaned forward far enough for Heidegger to make out some strands of his golden hair. “What do we do when Sephiroth attacks?” “What? Why, we kill him, of course!” Now that, Rufus thought, was hilarious. Laughing in amusement, President Shinra leaned back again, staring at his oblivious underling. “Idiot!” he finally clarified, “We don’t have a ghost of a chance against him! Not us, not AVALANCHE, not anyone except Jenova itself, and Jenova is on his side!” “When we created a monster, sir, we did create ways to destroy it.” “Yeah. Jenova.” “Uh…” Heidegger winced. Rufus knew most of the details about Sephiroth and the project they called “Jenova”, probably more than Heidegger himself. However, there were some things neither of them would ever know, as they were buried with Rufus’s father. “He’s not invincible, sir. We have a ton of strategies for dealing with terrorists like Sephiroth. We could surround you with a wall of soldiers…” “So he’d wipe us all out with an enhanced Fire 3 spell.” “Well, what do you have in mind?” “What do I have in mind? I’m a bit reluctant to say it, since it’s very self serving, but hey, I might as well get used to that, eh?” That provoked a laugh from Heidegger, easing the situation. “Yes, sir.” “Why not kill two birds with one stone?” “It’s them,” the general realized instantly, “You want to bring AVALANCHE into this.” “Damn right I do.” The president seethed audibly. “They have shamed Shin-Ra. We used Robosoldiers, advanced security systems, bombs, even the SOLDIER unit itself, and it was all to no avail. Now, we’re stinging from Sephiroth’s blow and those terrorists are home free after invading our base. We can’t let them get away with that.” The president massaged the area in his chest where the broad side of a very broad sword had recently crashed into him. “And that leader of theirs…” Heidegger understood who his boss was talking about. AVALANCHE’s official leader was named Barret Wallace, but the man who’d assumed leadership over the group when Rufus had confronted them was Cloud Strife. It was with Cloud whom Rufus fought on the roof of Shinra Headquarters, and the battle had ended with the bloody death of Rufus’s pet, Dark Nation, and a serious blow to the president himself. While Barret Wallace was the one who engineered the destruction of Shinra’s Mako Reactors, and had the enmity of most Shinra executives, Heidegger included, it was Cloud Strife who President Shinra hated the most out of the group. “He was good, Heidegger. Very good. In fact, I think he’s one of the best swordsmen I’ve ever seen.” “Sir, are you serious?” “Dead serious,” Rufus said in a long breath, “Aside from Sephiroth, I’ve never seen anyone fight with more skill with his weapon.” “You saw Sephiroth fight?” Heidegger asked suddenly. “I…” The president caught himself. “Never mind. Anyway, Strife, if backed by his friends, could probably prove more than a match for Sephiroth if they all attacked at once.” “What!?” Heidegger gasped, “You said it yourself, sir! Sephiroth has the most powerful mastered Materia on the Planet! He’s got that long sword, Masamune! And he’s really, really good!” “I know that; I just spent the last ten minutes hammering it.” “So? Why would you propose a suicide mission like that?” Rufus smirked in the darkness. “Better them than us.” Heidegger went very quiet as his boss’s plan clicked in his head. “You want AVALANCHE to be in Junon…” “Yes. We’ll do your little parade thing,” he began, continuing with an amused snicker, “to honor the new President Shinra. We’ll broadcast it to the whole continent. Unless Sephiroth or AVALANCHE or both have already crossed the sea, which I severely doubt, they’ll turn up eventually. Then, we tempt AVALANCHE into trailing us like lost dogs, waiting to make their move, but Sephiroth will make his move first; he always does. They will keep him busy while we prepare the final blow. Then we eliminate both of our enemies at once.” “Well, sir, that’s not an entirely difficult concept…” “Then why didn’t you think of it?” “Sir!” the general protested, “The security risks are giant! We’re inviting the two most dangerous groups on the planet into our lap! All they need is one lucky shot and you’re toast!” “Heidegger,” Rufus explained patiently, “I’m not that fond of being pampered. Rather, I like laughing in the face of danger. It’s a thrill, and thrills are what make life worth living. I don’t intend on sitting on my tail for the rest of my life in some big comfortable office, growing fat and bald like my old man. I can hold my own in a fight.” “I never said you couldn’t, sir…” “I know. I’m just making sure you never do. Now arrange the parade! We won’t enter Junon until we receive word from the Turks. Cloud and his gang won’t be able to resist such tempting Shin-Ra targets, and if Sephiroth is still around, he’ll probably make a move as well.” “Sir?” Heidegger said nervously, “You said targets…with an s?” “Yes, as in the plural.” The president grinned wickedly. “You don’t expect to command your troops hiding behind a desk, do you? You’ll be right there with us, marching in glory, recognized as the Shinra Baron you are.” And as the perfect target! Heidegger loosened his collar. Actually, most of his old missions did indeed take place while he sat behind a comfortable desk. It had been a while since he’d seen combat. He said a quick, silent prayer, hoping Sephiroth was far past Junon by now. “Now go on,” Rufus barked, “Get us to Junon! Let’s get this show on the road!” “Yes, sir…” General Heidegger got shakily to his feet and left the president to himself. Rufus Shinra let out a long, tired breath. He hated dealing with people, especially morons, and in his opinion, Heidegger was quite a moron. However, he had won a very major war for the Shin-Ra based on strategy alone, so there had to be some intelligence hiding out within his massive frame. The president himself didn’t have a very inflated view of himself, but knew exactly how crafty he could be. He had long since mastered the art of dictatorship, under the watchful eyes of his dear old man, and had a very ruthless attitude towards his new job. The late President Shinra had tried to win over the hearts of the people. Get a job, pay your bills, and if a terrorist attacks, Shin-Ra will protect you. It all seemed perfect from the outside. What, with a guardian angel like Shin-Ra, how could anything bad befall the people? Therefore, Rufus’s father hadn’t had to deal with much resistance…for a while. The first real signs of trouble had come when Rufus had left Midgar years ago. He had been assigned to a developing reactor to oversee its growth and develop a better way to utilize the Mako around it, since it was in a very awkward position. He had done so, thought it had taken him quite some time, and remained to oversee construction. In the end, he’d completed a most impressive project for the young man he was. In the meantime, however, he caught repeated news stories of groups who dared to stand up against his father’s rule. President Shinra himself never gave outsiders the image that he was an evil man, and he was quite convincing in this lie, so the people tended to blame the other Shin-Ra executives instead of their boss. Security had to be heightened around these executives, but one, the director of Urban Development, hadn’t escaped death at the hands of one of the most damaging resistance groups in history. They didn’t quite outrank AVALANCHE, but they came close. The new director, Reeve, had proven to be a very promising employee with a lot of good ideas. Unfortunately, the other executives didn’t quite accept him, which was a shame. It was partly Reeve’s own fault, Rufus had to concede, because the man had yet to grow the thick skin that surrounded every other executive. It would come in time, but how long would they have to wait? Anyhow, the attacks got more and more serious, until Rufus received word that a terrorist group called AVALANCHE had destroyed one of Midgar’s Mako Reactors. That had been the first sign of immediate danger. Anyone who could successfully blow up one of the eight stations that supplied Midgar with power definitely had a clear mission and the means to complete it. His father seemed to be taking a let-them-have-their-fun approach, which had worried his son, but when this group destroyed another reactor, the threat was recognized by Shin-Ra and handled nicely. Rufus had gotten a kick out of his father’s creativity—who’d have thought he’d drop the plate? It was genius! Rufus’s attitude towards domination did not rely on gaining the trust of the people. Rather, he preferred to weaken them into submission. If they knew that there was a zero tolerance policy, they wouldn’t try anything. This particular group hadn’t thought so, obviously, and invaded Shinra Headquarters itself. All this Rufus learned when he had been informed that his father was dead, killed at the hands of a terrorist. Naturally, Rufus had assumed that the terrorist responsible belonged to the group that had destroyed the Midgar reactors, but he’d never expected the culprit to be General Sephiroth. The news had both intrigued and frightened him. He looked forward to the challenge ahead of him, but Sephiroth was not known to be easy to conquer. Someone with his skill could leap out of any shadow and strike a killing blow, and then disappear back into the shadows from which he came. However, the AVALANCHE terrorist Strife was the only one Rufus could think of who might be able to keep Sephiroth busy long enough for Shin-Ra’s men to get in place. Not that the rest of AVALANCHE couldn’t do the job as well. So, Rufus figured, if he pit all of AVALANCHE against Sephiroth, whether they liked it or not, he’d have his best chance of finishing both of his enemies. Rufus suddenly remembered something else. One of his aides had mentioned that he needed to do a bit of paperwork to complete his transition of power. Since he knew if he just sat there until they reached Junon he’d grow sluggish off boredom, he figured now was as good a time as any. A push of a button summoned the said aide and President Rufus Shinra began his first real executive task. ______________________________________________________________________________ Though Midgar was in turmoil, life went on in the other cities of the world. The closest town to Midgar, Kalm Town, was, however, feeling the effects of its neighbor’s crisis. The normally peaceful night had been disturbed by a plethora of helicopters and Shinra troops. Kalm’s residents were all on edge, and most were up to see the sights. News of President Shinra’s death was all over the town, and the Shinra were reporting that the killers were the AVALANCHE terrorist team that had destroyed the Midgar reactors in the past—the Shinra were not about to say that Sephiroth, someone whom their own newspapers reported as dead, was the true culprit—and this only intensified the public hatred and fear of the terrorists. Remember, the people were convinced that Shinra was on their side. Everyone was aware that a large group of travelers had all-too-recently entered their town, but though they had weapons with them, they were not suspected to be who they really were. Shin-Ra had yet to send out descriptions of the AVALANCHE members, since they’d spent all their time in Midgar rather than any other cities, so all the people had to rely on was their own mental image of the terrorists. This group had entered anticlimactically and frankly looked too human to be AVALANCHE. People imagined only a team of super humans would be able to defeat the Shinra so many times. It was somewhat of a pity for the Shinra group, since if they’d simply alerted people about a man with a gargantuan sword and another man with a Gatlin gun replacing a hand, AVALANCHE would have been identified instantly. By now, the noble terrorists had spread out over the town, taking it easy for a few minutes. What they considered relaxation was actually restocking their items and Materia. They had to leave as soon as possible, but before they did, they were to have a very important meeting with their leader. Most of the buildings in Kalm Town were painted in combinations of blue and white, and even the road had a bluish hue. Therefore, the town seemed to glow with a peaceful blue aura. The buildings were positioned in a sort of oval, and in the center was a giant windmill. In the days before Mako reactors, the windmill had provided most of Kalm’s power. Now, it simply served as memorabilia. The size of the town wasn’t even the fraction of a size of a Midgar sector, but the environment was a lot friendlier. The people here obeyed the Shinra, but they had no Mako Reactor around to pollute the environment—Midgar was close enough that it could send the power directly to Kalm. There were monsters lurking around outside, as there were everywhere, but they weren’t very nasty. One didn’t need a lot of courage to pay a visit to Kalm Town. ______________________________________________________________________________ Standing near the windmill now was a young woman of medium height and a build that didn’t suggest much physical ability. That image couldn’t be further from the truth, though, as she was an expert martial artist equipped with a variety of enhanced gloves, everything from claws to iron knuckles. Yes, when you saw the fists, the image of frailty died hard. She had long black hair that reached slightly past her shoulders and wore a white tee-shirt cut off to show her stomach, followed by a black belt and short shorts. She was singularly attractive, but appeared well grounded enough that only a fool would try to put a move on her. Tifa Lockheart of AVALANCHE looked fondly at the buildings around her, noting how different they were from the trailers and trashy apartments of the Midgar slums. Kalm may not have been big, but it certainly was a comfortable place to live. The 20-year-old former bartender had been born in such a town, though it had met many hardships because of the Shinra. She wondered how a town so close to the Shinra Headquarters could be more peaceful than her faraway hometown. Recruited a year ago by the leader of AVALANCHE, she had become an extremely active member in no time. She had been a useful addition to the team because she had turned her bar, the Seventh Heaven, into a Midgar base for AVALANCHE. Since she had been liked by most of the people in the slums, she could always keep the rest of the group well informed about their enemy. AVALANCHE had spent lots of time in her bar, planning their missions carefully, and finding new recruits, including Tifa’s old friend Cloud. He had clashed horribly with AVALANCHE’s true leader, Barret, and the latter almost drove the former out of the gang. Tifa had put a lot of effort into stopping this. In the end, the two had started getting along, which was a major success for her. With its two strongest fighters cooperating, AVALANCHE was able to accomplish much. Now, pursued by the Shinra, the group was hiding out in Kalm Town. In a short time, they would be leaving for the port of Junon to get to the Western Continent. The whole idea was for the Shinra to pass them by. It was a lot easier to follow the Shinra than it was to have to worry about the Shinra following them. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the conglomerate would figure out the team’s destination, and they wanted as much time to prepare as possible. Unless they could sneak in and through, Junon would almost certainly be a battleground. They had a good pastime while waiting. After they returned to the local inn, Cloud was going to tell a story. In the story, he would explain some burning questions about himself and his relationship to the dark SOLDIER general called Sephiroth, whom AVALANCHE was pursuing alongside their Shinra enemies. Most of the story, Tifa figured, would be old news to her, since she had experienced it along with Cloud. She wanted to hear it, however, because she had a strange feeling that she’d need to. Somewhere along the line, an inner voice insisted, she would have to fill in whatever blanks Cloud decided to leave out. And knowing him, that might be a lot. Stretching gloriously, Tifa took one last glance around the peaceful town, longing to stay here even longer, but knowing her presence would only bring trouble. She had all the items she needed from the various shops, including a new weapon. As she started for the inn, she looked again at the shining claws on her new glove. The Mythril Claw, as it was called, was much different than most of her other gloves, but would probably be a lot more effective than a simple iron knuckle. ______________________________________________________________________________ In the hills far behind the peaceful town, a creature let out a leisurely yawn. It resembled a wolf, but since it had a mane, it could also resemble a lion. The easiest thing to call it was a beast, and that’s what even its closest allies referred to it as. The beast had come from Midgar with the others, having escaped from the Shinra Headquarters where it had been used as a guinea pig. Given the name “Red XIII” by the head of Science and Technology, the creature preferred simply to be called Red. No one knew his real name, and he wasn’t too eager to reveal it. Not that it was incriminating or anything, but he was a secretive being. His fur was a deep shade of red and his mane and tail were so bright it looked like they were burning. Indeed, the tip of his tail glowed with a bright flame when he was in an intense situation, but for now it was extinguished. The flame was a result of the experimentation done on him, and as useful as it was, he loathed it and the ones who had given it to him. The Shinra had invaded his homelands, the peaceful Cosmo Canyon, and taken him back with them. He’d resisted as best he could, but you could only take so many tranquillizer darts before you couldn’t fight anymore. When he’d come to, he was just another specimen. Though Red didn’t know exactly what kind of things had been done with him—as he was never in the position to ask—he had figured out by paying close attention to his captors that one of the major projects was something called “Jenova”. The Shinra spoke of Jenova like it was some reborn god, or at least, something that could create gods. Red estimated that this Jenova was used on him and was at least partially responsible for the fire on his tail. Indeed, his senses were sharper now than ever before, and they’d been pretty sharp to begin with. He could now use “Materia” to cast magic spells, something ordinary creatures usually couldn’t do. Sure, many creatures throughout the world had access to innate magical abilities—since most had encountered Mako energy at some time or another—but what made beings like Red unique was their ability to draw magic from any element or type of Materia. Most of the magic used by creatures these days was more of an annoyance than a threat. A lot of the spells inflicted some unwanted status, like forced slumber or poison. Some affected peoples’ brains, making them extremely depressed or extremely infuriated, or worse, totally disoriented into believing that one’s allies were one’s enemies. Elemental magic was handled easily—though not cheaply—by special armor, and this made it possible for most travelers and merchants to get around the world in general safety, though you could never be so sure anymore. With Shin-Ra’s increased production of Mako energy, the monsters around the world had been growing more powerful and much more aggressive. Red XIII had handled many a monster in his life, though usually by way of his fangs or bladed headdress. He was agile, strong, and intelligent, and his kind prided themselves in those areas. Indeed, though humans were generally considered the most intelligent race, by the end of his life, Red would probably have forgotten more than the average human would ever learn. Part of this was due to the incredible life span of his kind, though most of it was simply because Red’s race was just smart. Staring back at the nearby Kalm Town, the newly inducted AVALANCHE member remembered that Cloud had something to tell them all. Standing on all four legs, Red checked to make sure he still had all his Materia with him. Yes, he had his Fire, Restore, All, and Sense…then he was set. The beast shot off towards his destination with long, powerful strides. _____________________________________________________________________________ The merchants eyed each other hopefully, paying close attention to their two customers. One was an attractive young woman and the other was a big, burly black man with a Gatling gun replacing his right hand. The girl was looking over the Materia for sale. She was dressed in a long pink dress and a deep red vest. She had long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and carried a thick nightstick that looked like it could put quite a dent in one’s skull if swung correctly. Fixed in her ponytail was a large, glittering orb of Materia. One could only guess what powers it might contain. The truth was, she didn’t know either. Aeris Gainsborough had received the orb from her mother, and kept it as sort of an heirloom. She didn’t have much else to remember her mother by. They’d been coldly separated years ago by the Shinra people, only to meet again inside the planet’s lifeblood, the Lifestream. No, the Shinra hadn’t treated them well at all. Ifalna of the Cetra and her daughter, Aeris, were not people to them, they were specimens. Because, of course, they were the descendants of the Planet itself, and therefore had to bring forth supreme happiness. Hojo of Shinra had told her that so many times during her captive childhood. The menacing scientist made it seem like Aeris and her mother were the all important beings, yet at the same time kept them caged like rats and subjected them to what he called science and what they called torture. “Cetra” was the name of the Planet’s earliest inhabitants. They had been extremely close to the Planet, and had even had the ability to communicate with it. They were skilled at a variety of magic, since they drew their power directly from the Planet, rather than from processed stones. The Planet’s energy, Mako, could be condensed into orbs containing magic power. Called “Materia” these stones allowed the caster to draw the magic inside them to use for their own purposes. As more and more magic was drawn from an individual orb, the power of the magic increased, eventually allowing a skilled user to invoke incredible powers. This was when a Materia could be considered “mastered”, but this only happened rarely, though it had been said that the SOLDIER called Sephiroth had a virtual library of mastered stones. Deep within her, Aeris knew, she was capable of magic power greater than any of these stones could ever produce. She just didn’t know how to call upon that power, which was a good thing, she reasoned. It was for reasons like that that she and her mother had spent many years in captivity. The 22-year-old woman had escaped when she was about ten, and since then had learned to value her freedom like gold. Her mother, however, had not been lucky enough to get out alive. After they escaped from the Shinra labs, Ifalna had found herself far too weakened by Hojo’s experiments to continue on in life. She’d died in the arms of a good woman who’d later adopted Aeris and raised her as her own. Together they had thwarted the Shinra for years, until recently, when Aeris had surrendered for the sake of the daughter of the man with the gun arm. Fortunately, that man and the rest of AVALANCHE got her out quickly, and at the same time dealing several damaging blows to the Shinra hierarchy. What was the reason for the Shinra’s obsession with the Cetra? Aeris herself had often wondered that during her years of confinement. She’d wondered why she was in perpetual pain, and why people stared at her like she was some animal, and why her mother wept quietly every night. What had been the point? Whenever she worked up enough courage to speak to Hojo about it, he’d replied that she was the last of a great race, and that she would lead the world to a place of supreme happiness. Hojo had always spoken to her as if in awe of her, though he never seemed to show any of the respect his words conveyed. She’d learned enough from her mother by the time they’d escaped, though, to figure everything out. In the Cetra culture, the whole purpose of life fell in a single scripture reading. It stated that after long hardships, the Cetra would find their Promised Land of supreme happiness. Aeris understood that the long hardship meant life, and that the supreme happiness promised was simply death. While death might not seem like something to be happy about, you have to remember that the Cetra loved the Planet, and returning to it was to be their ultimate joy. However, others, like the greedy Shinra, didn’t understand this. They believed that the Promised Land was literally a section of the Planet comparable to Eden. To this Mako producing conglomerate, a land so revered by people so close to the planet meant lots of the planet’s energy…meaning lots of Mako to exploit. There, they had planned to build Neo Midgar, which would be the ultimate achievement of mankind. The only one who scoffed at this theory of the Promised Land, ironically, was Hojo. The scientist saw the Cetra as an interesting science project, and he saw ways to better humanity’s magic powers by studying the Cetra. Though he devoted all those experiments to figuring out how to extract the Cetra’s magic and find ways to create more of them, it was partly because of his objections that Shinra abandoned the Neo Midgar project. When Aeris had been recaptured, President Shinra had tried to resurrect the project, but it was aborted again after President Shinra’s assassination and the new threats of Sephiroth and AVALANCHE. But it was over now. She was safe. Rufus Shinra had many other things to worry about at the moment other than hunting her. One of those things, she knew, was the same thing they wanted to accomplish. Or at least, it was what Cloud wanted. He was the only one on the team who seemed to know anything about Sephiroth or why they were going to be hunting him down, and, she remembered, AVALANCHE’s new leader was going to tell them most of what they wanted to know at the hotel. New leader…she knew Barret would never think of things that way. The man with the gun-arm was the true leader of AVALANCHE, and though not exactly cocky, he had his own sense of pride. Aeris examined the Materia in her possession. She carried stones of Ice, Bolt, Restore, and she had just recently purchased a “Quake” stone that contained the powers of the earth. Satisfied, she bid good day to the vendor and started off for the inn. ______________________________________________________________________________ Barret Wallace, however, was not done drooling over the weapons on display. For the thirty-five years he’d been alive, the big man had always liked these things. Too often, his survival had depended on them, which was a shame, he thought. The world shouldn’t require that. But then, that’s what he was trying to change, wasn’t it? His hatred for the Shinra had begun many years ago. Back then, his hometown of Corel had been a prosperous coal mining town, and entirely self-sufficient. In time, however, they too had succumbed to the good things promised by the Shinra reactors, and like many others, their story had ended in sorrow. It was a story he never liked to tell with detail, even in his own mind. A year later, he’d stumbled across some agents from Cosmo Canyon. It was a meeting that would change his life. After gaining their friendship and trust, he’d been told of the conspiracy known as AVALANCHE, and before long became a member of the group. Their plans had been foiled by a string of bad luck, resulting in Barret fleeing to Midgar alone. He’d never heard from his allies again, but as long as he was in the belly of the beast, he figured there had to be something he could do to keep AVALANCHE alive. After acquiring some funds and meeting people who seemed like they could fight for what AVALANCHE stood for, including Tifa Lockheart and three others. Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie were paid like normal soldiers, but they had only asked for what they needed, and no more. Together, they had gained power and plotted to disrupt Shinra operations in Midgar. In truth, Barret knew his ragtag group could never destroy all eight of the Mako Reactors in Midgar. It was simply too great a task for so few people. Tifa had realized this too, and brought in her childhood friend, Cloud. Cloud and Barret had clashed immediately. Barret was bound and determined to save the Planet, while Cloud only wanted a paycheck and to survive. He had cared nothing for AVALANCHE’s true mission. That had changed for the better, though. Following the destruction of an entire Midgar sector, just to dispose of AVALANCHE, Cloud, Tifa, and Barret had found themselves to be the only surviving members of the group. Bonds formed in battle were ultimately the strongest, and this proved to be the case here as well. The three of them infiltrated Shinra Headquarters and accomplished more than Barret had ever dreamt to hope for. But now they were on the run. Cloud had a new mission for them, so they’d always be on the move, but they still had to watch their backs. Though he’d never been an official fugitive before, the concept was for some reason familiar to Barret. He wasn’t worried, though. As they’d demonstrated before, they could handle whatever the Shinra threw at them. Hopefully. The weapons dealer shifted his weight nervously, justly intimidated by the big man before him. Barret was of fairly average height, but his entire body was covered in muscle. He would have made a champion wrestler or boxer in the past, but either sport would be fairly hard now since he’d replaced his right hand with a gun. He’d had nothing to lose by doing so, since that part of his arm had been immobilized long ago. It was helpful for a terrorist to have a built in weapon, he’d often thought. He wore a thick, sleeveless brown jacket that wasn’t quite big enough to fit all the way around him, exposing his broad chest. A thick metal belt that had saved him from many a wound in his career surrounded his stomach and waist. By far, however, his gun-arm was the most impressive feature. Attached by a new surgical procedure, the artificial “limb” was connected to the nerves in Barret’s arm, and since nerves led to the brain, Barret could fire the gun with a conscious thought to do so. There was a “safety” that he activated whenever he went to sleep that disconnected the gun with his brain so he didn’t fire it while dreaming. It was a very flexible model, and could be upgraded by anyone with the equipment to do so. Recently, Jessie had upgraded its effect to that of an assault rifle, but Jessie wasn’t around to do any further upgrades… And here they had sufficient parts, Barret thought, to complete the Cannon Ball. The Cannon Ball upgrade would reform the gun-arm to fire a single, powerful blast. He stopped examining the hardware and bought what he wanted. He’d upgrade the weapon back at the inn, hopefully before that skinny white boy began his story, Barret thought with a smirk. ______________________________________________________________________________ Two men stared at a giant sword. One stared with something like remorse, and the other stared with awe. The sword in question was called a “Buster Sword”. It looked like a steel wall. The blade was a few feet wide, and the sharp end looked like it could slash through anything. Though, the dull end could probably split wood, too. Kalm’s second weapon’s vender looked in disbelief at the previous owner of the sword, a man who at first glance didn’t look like he could handle such a large weapon. He was of a strong build, yes, but still appeared a bit too skinny to wield something so fat. He knew he was wrong, of course, because the swordsman in blue had demonstrated his skills with the weapon for him out in the fields. The vendor had been amazed, and even more amazed that the man wanted to trade the sword for a new one. Actually, the vendor reminded himself, he was being paid to keep the sword for the man until he returned. The man had also bought a new weapon from him, and was friendly enough, so the vendor really didn’t mind looking after the weapon. What would the others think when they saw this broadest of broadswords on his wall? The swordsman was clothed in a blue suit of armor used by most of Shin-Ra’s SOLDIER team. One silver epaulet was missing, but the rest of the armor was in tact, and fit tightly against the man’s body. He wore blue pants—a darker blue than his armor—and had a full head of spiky blonde hair. The thing that had captured the vendor’s attention the most, however, was this man’s eyes. He’d seen people with bright eyes before, even so bright that they seemed to glow…in particular, his young granddaughter, whom he adored, but in this man’s eyes, the glow seemed real. They blazed a light blue, matching the rest of the young swordsman’s attire. The vendor had drifted too far from the technological world to understand that one of the characteristics of a SOLDIER was a slight glow emitting from the eyes. This was a result of the Mako energy Shinra showered its SOLDIERs with to improve their physical and magical capabilities. The young man now thrust at an invisible foe with a long, shining, black blade called the Mythril Saber. Its blade was not thin at all, but it seemed so to the man who had been wielding that massive broadsword for many years. It was a shame, Cloud Strife thought to himself, that he had to leave the sword behind, but this mission required more than the Buster Sword could give. Though powerful, the old sword had only two slots for Materia, meaning Cloud could only call on two of his many Materia at once. The Mythril Saber had two more slots available, and was still a potent blade. Yes, even a SOLDIER could not draw power from Materia that was not equipped in a weapon or armor. The said items were all made nowadays with a bit of power from some other Materia to easily access the power of the other Materia placed in the weapon. Otherwise, a spell caster might stand in place for a good five or ten minutes working up a single spell, which in most cases was far too long, for magic was most often used when a monster was headed your way. Armor for utilizing Materia had been created recently. Called “bangles” they were armbands that added a slight defensive shield around its wearer that made things like bullets or axe chops which would otherwise be fatal something less. Since his boyhood in the mountains of Nibelheim, Cloud had wanted all the powers he had now. Strong weapons, the ability to use magic, and even the power to channel one’s inner rage into something called a “limit break”, which more often than not decimated one’s enemies. The irony was that now that he had these things, he thought glumly, he was a condemned man running from the law, and his past was now a mass of sorrowful memories. He’d often wondered how his life would have gone if he’d pursued a different course in life. He knew for sure he’d be a lot happier, but others would not be, because he’d saved a lot more lives than he had taken. That was something to be proud of, wasn’t it? It wasn’t worth thinking about “what ifs” at this point. All he knew was what had happened. He’d left Nibelheim to pursue his dream of joining SOLDIER and becoming a hero, and maybe, just maybe, become as great as his idol, the great Sephiroth. It hadn’t worked out that way, and though he’d joined SOLDIER, he’d abandoned it in the end, after an incident he would soon describe to his friends. His childhood friend Tifa had found him in Midgar and introduced him to a group she called AVALANCHE. Finished with caring about others, Cloud had accepted a job on the team to fill his own pocket with gold rather than to aid in AVALANCHE’s ideals. But that was okay, because he was a mercenary, and mercenaries didn’t have to care. That had all changed, of course, when AVALANCHE had come across Aeris, the last of the Ancients. When Shinra destroyed Midgar’s Sector 7 and kidnapped the former flower girl, he’d been fully prepared to march into Shinra Headquarters alone and save her—he was supposed to be her bodyguard, after all. Tifa and Barret weren’t about to let Shinra get away with either kidnapping Aeris or killing Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie as well as countless other residents of Sector 7, and came with him. They finally became a real team. And, as an added bonus, fate had awarded them a new ally in the Headquarters building, Red XIII. They’d also encountered a new enemy, and, in Cloud’s opinion, a new mission. Even he silently admitted he wasn’t sure what exactly it was, but he did know they couldn’t just stand there. Sephiroth, wherever he was going and whatever he was planning, had to be stopped, and Cloud wasn’t so sure the Shinra could do it alone. After all, they hadn’t even been able to handle a group of terrorists. How were they going to handle the most powerful man on the planet? Cloud cast one more glance at the sword he’d spent a decade with before bidding good day to the vendor and heading for the inn, where he had a story to tell. Well, the vendor thought, wasn’t that an interesting boy? A man of many skills, no doubt, and a damned demon with that sword. The vendor examined the Buster Sword once more, comparing it to an even longer, though much slimmer blade he’d seen not even a day earlier. The owner of that sword had had eyes just like the young man who’d just left; only those eyes had been green. He’d also been a bit older, and had a very cold demeanor when compared to the friendly blonde man. The vendor had thought to mention this black caped man to the blonde man, but he’d decided against it in the end. They probably had nothing to do with each other, after all. |