Disclaimer: I wish I owned Final Fantasy VII.

Chapter One

Nightmare Symphony

Despite their obvious differences, Reeve, from his lofty position as commissioner of the WRO, often sent Yuffie and Shelke on patrol together. If he ever wondered why the reports returned were of a lesser quality and lacked much of the detail they contained when he sent Yuffie alone he never spoke a word. Perhaps he thought that their own good qualities would shore up the failures of personality in the other, but it was not to be so. Thus far this evening their patrol of Edge had been somewhat less than exciting, and even that was an overstatement. Rain turned the area into a dull grey panorama, devoid of even the usual evening shoppers and passerby that could be used to distract and entertain the commissioner's favorite ninja.

Yuffie Kisaragi was not adverse to rain. If asked, she might even go so far as to say that she enjoyed it. However, it had turned to a nuisance with Shelke's absolute indifference and lack of any other stimuli. If she hadn't been so well trained, Yuffie might have sighed. But Yuffie had been trained from birth in the art of the ninja, so an altogether different route was taken advantage of. Spinning on one heel she laughed giddily, watching the rain sling itself from her skin and clothes in glistening arcs. Yuffie threw out her arms to maintain her momentum and balance, nearly taking out Shelke in the process.

Shelke's cold blue eyes quickly drew any meager pleasure she might have received from the activity. This time Yuffie did sigh, but on the tail end of it she caught a hint a sound, something another would have taken for more raindrops pouring into the alley. She turned, noting that Shelke had already drawn her plasma sabers, but was looking at the opposite end of the alley. That was the last moment she had for rational thought. Soldiers in an unfamiliar charcoal grey body armor poured in and it was all she could do to stay alive. It was a short alley, imperfect for the usual sort of ambush because of the number of escape routes, but it seemed like the soldiers were swarming from nowhere, blocking all the exits. They even lined the buildings, like some horrible contemporary gargoyles, cutting off the sky and the ninja's last chances to escape.

At this range it was nearly impossible for them to miss. They would pay a heavy toll, but their sheer numbers would win for them. Yuffie felt blazes of pain, like white-hot irons run through her where the bullets were eating away at her flesh. She pushed aside the pain and the encroaching darkness, leaving it all for a dull red haze that was without thought, only rage. She never even noticed when Shelke fell.

The commander of this contingent was perched safely at the top of a nearby building. His uniform differed from his fellows only in a narrow vertical stripe of crimson down his right side. Otherwise his charcoal grey combat armor and mirrorized helm where the same as any of his men. He watched as the target stumbled directly into their little trap. The informant who had provided the route would be rewarded in the same way they rewarded all those from the WRO who proved themselves willing and able to provide sensitive information. He or she would be done away with as soon as was feasible. There was no place in the company for traitors.

There was a measure of controlled satisfaction in his demeanor as their primary objective was soon reached. The smaller of the two figures fell with only a moderate loss of life for his men and minimal damage done to herself. However, all was not well on the other end. His mood darkened as he looked to where the other figure still resisted. Such resistance had not been anticipated. Their informants, for they had been sure to verify their information through diverse sources, had obviously been misinformed themselves. The ninja had been described in their reports as young and clumsy, but he could not see the evidence of that. In fact, he felt a stirring of connection, one warrior to another, as he watched her cut through his men as easily as a reaper brings down wheat.

She was bleeding from what had to be a dozen different wounds. Her shuriken had shattered, the majority of it still stuck deep in the wall where it pinned one of his lieutenants. Only one spike still remained in her hand and she used it like a short sword, no longer graceful. The numbers and her blood loss were telling, as she drifted to less clean, more brutal methods of dealing with her foes. She was no longer attempting to escape, seemingly content with causing as much mayhem and destruction as was possible.

Then she was slung backwards from a shot from one of the heavy lasers. With painful slowness she raised herself to her knees. He saw her hand go to the great, gaping hole in her chest, watched eagerly as she brought it to her face. Understanding dawned in her eyes, and for an impossibly drawn out second she met his gaze across the gap that separated them. He watched without comprehension as a dark satisfaction bloomed in her already dimming gaze, lighting up the torn shell that was already betraying her iron control.

Then he felt the catch in his chest, the barrier that would not let him draw air. In a numb haze he looked down and saw the long steel length that had grown from his chest without him ever noticing her hand moving. With dimming eyes he took note of every chip, every groove in the foot and a half length, the battered and useless materia that dimmed, just as he did. And then the blackness was complete and he saw no more.

Booted feet weaved their way effortlessly through the tangle of corpses. Their owner looked on the spread with only contempt as his gaze looked over the vista of death. A cool breeze, still heavy with rain swept over them, rustling black hair and black feathers. His gaze caught on a particular body, one he could almost recognize. His feet soon brought him to the side of the young female in unsuitable clothing for both the weather and the battle that had brought her to her present state. There were enough bullets in her he almost couldn't recognize her. If he held her up to the sun, there was not enough left of her torso, the largest target on a human being and the one most easily hit, to provide even a decent sun shade. He could see the shattered remains of what might once have been a bone in her left leg. A minor vein had been punched through in her neck, still oozing it's contribution to the puddle of blood in which she lay.

It was this last detail that interested him, as much as he could be interested. Corpses didn't bleed. This girl was very close to becoming one. He doubted they could save her even if she was rushed to a clinic this instant. Though it seemed that gunshots were the only injury she had sustained, there wasn't much left of her to save. They would have to amputate and replace most of her limbs and vital organs. Only her head seemed to have escaped the trauma of the rest of her body.

He knew who she was, of course. She had been one of the group that had destroyed his brothers. Truthfully, he couldn't harbor any ill will against her for that. He held his own sanity in only a tenuous grasp, and most of the others had gone almost beyond reach. He spared another glance for the body resting on the concrete beneath his feet. She could be useful. Doubtless she would be better able to track her companions with greater ease than he could. And they in turn would lead him to his ultimate goal.

Without wasting any more of his already severely limited time he gathered the girl in his arms, ignoring the coppery scent of her blood, which seemed to be getting everywhere. He flexed and unfurled his great, dark wing and launched himself into the air. His unnatural powers brought them supernaturally quick to a dark wooded area, where there was a small clearing. The area was a circle too perfect for nature, the grass too green, the untransversable growth around it too thick. His reason for bringing her here ignored his landing on the grass and the few dark blotches that stained their too perfect green stems. A mako fountain, a natural and unspoiled one filled the clearings center, a quietly beating heart that ebbed and rose with a substance that held the power of the Lifestream itself.

He experienced a moment's doubt before he laid her in the quiet, shallow depths. He had never heard of this being attempted before, especially on someone with no prior mako exposure. All of Shinra's experiments had been with either refined or diluted mako. But the moment passed as quickly as it came. The ninja was placed as gently in the fountain as he could manage and still leave himself untouched by the mako. Her body drifted gently to the bottom, settling against half formed materia orbs. Without a second glance he took off again, his mind already returning to his hunt.

Three days later...

He landed gently, with less haste this time, and his boots barely left imprints in the unnaturally thick grass. The girl lay where he left her, but she was changed by her exposure. His eye noticed the changes without particularly caring about any of them. All her wounds had healed, without even a trace of a scar. Her limbs seemed longer, more graceful, but his instincts whispered more lethal. The short, tangled mess that had been her hair now pooled around her like a thousand silky black snakes, coming to rest at her waist. He didn't even have to look to know that her eyes would have taken on the unnerving glow of prolonged mako exposure.

He pulled her body from its grave, ignoring the tingling sensation that resulting from the mako that soaked her form. Her long hair traced mako trails as it slithered over his gauntlets, coming to rest in a loose, graceful flow. She was lighter than the last time he had carried her thus, but without the frailty. And she was as cold as a corpse would be, except he could feel her breaths, even as shallow and slow as they were. Something still in the pool caught his eye. It was a katana, glowing dully black in a black leather sheath. It too was gathered and then he left the almost stifling life of the grove. He took them with less haste to a warehouse deep within Edge itself, and settled down with infinite patience to wait for her to wake and throw off the fever haze. He had time.

Seven days later...

Yuffie awoke slowly, with foreign sensations pressing themselves against her senses. It was warm in the room, though some sense insisted that it shouldn't be. She was stretched out on a mattress which could only be called vaguely comfortable, but the worn blankets tucked around her were comforting, because they meant someone had cared enough to make an effort. Her clothes were gone, but as far as she could tell nothing had been done to herself. She tried to remember how she had come here, but it was all fever and blood and something infinitely peaceful, just out of reach.

"So you are awake at last." A deep voice said and she forced herself not to gasp in surprise. She peered into the doorway and a figure resolved itself. This time it was a whimper she suppressed. She had never seen this one, but they all had that same indefinable air. He resembled Nero, but only superficially. Physically he was more similar to Vice himself.

"You may call me Genesis. Your reports will have referred to me as simply 'G'. I assure you I mean you no harm. If you look after I leave you will find a bathroom, where you will find clothes and underthings. Yours could not be saved. I will be waiting in the next room when you are dressed." With that he turned and closed the door after him.

Drawing the blankets around her she made her way over to the room he had indicated. A shower stood in one corner, with a toilet and a few shelves which held towels and what she assumed were clothes. She let the blankets drop gratefully and yelped when something brushed against her skin. Looking down she saw a long, tangled mass of what could only be her own hair. Like ink it ran down to her waist, and as her disbelieving hand ran along some strands she felt the same liquid silkiness. To her amazement her efforts also seemed to untangle the strands with no tugging or frustration. It was as if her hair could not be forced into the snarled knots she had dreaded attacking. Simply running her fingers through it allowed it to fall in a silken waterfall.

But the first stroke of her hair in a state approaching panic brought pain, like it was a thousand tiny blades. Her blood oozed only slowly from the mangled fingers, and even as she watched her wounds began to close as if they had never existed and the too dark blood was only a figment of her imagination. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself once again she gently touched the strands, but again there was only the slickness of before. A defense mechanism of some sort? But it was only hair, wasn't it?

Yuffie looked for a mirror, but there were none in the bathroom. It occurred to her that this was all very odd, because she knew something was wrong and this unnatural hair was probably the least of it. The tiny hairs on her arms would have raised in alarm, except she didn't seem to have any body hair. A quick check assured her that her eyebrows were intact, but otherwise she seemed rather bare and pale. By this point her hand trembled as she raised it to her eyes. It was almost as if something had bleached her skin to almost translucency. A morbid part of herself whispered of blood and death and for a moment she contemplated the fact that she might be dead. Then her common sense reasserted herself and she reasoned that this bath, bare as it was, was too clean and neat to be hell, and if this was heaven she felt she was owed a refund.

Nervously she showered, scrubbing the scent of blood and sweat from her skin, and made her way over to the shelf. Under things, complete with still attached tags, and in a sleek but functional black sat there, as well as a small stack of different clothes. She recognized the style of the clothes. It was similar to what Kadaj's gang had worn. In fact, she was rather sure that the clothes she donned had belonged to the slim gunner of the group. Azul? No, that was later. She was sure his name would come to her. While she pondered she pulled on the fitted leather, surprised by the flexibility that it afforded. A thin shirt of some stretchy material was made to be worn under the trench coat. As she was pulling on the shirt his name came to her. Yazoo. The trench coat came next, and it was with surprise that she noted again that though it brushed against the worn tile of the floor it did not seem to inhibit her flexibility at all. A different style than the one Yazoo had worn when he died, for that one had only come to his knees. The boots fit well and came to rest just below her kneecap. Everything had fit suspiciously well, but she didn't think to question it as she finger combed her hair, which obliged her by untangling itself almost without help.

After she had dressed, she felt much better, no matter what sort of pale skinned, long haired freak she had become. She hadn't discovered horns or a tail yet, so she supposed it must not be too bad. Though the impossibly silky hair was rather creepy. Following Genesis's directions Yuffie met him in what looked like the observation deck of a run-down warehouse.

He didn't even turn to look at her as he stood at the railing. "You have been missing for ten days. I assume you know your friend was taken. I gather your compatriots believe you were taken as well. The will make an attempt on a laboratory tonight. It does not contain the girl. What it does contain are several elite units that will do their best to destroy your companions. That cannot be allowed."

"What can we do?" Yuffie asked worriedly, although her instincts questioned why this man would care whether her companions were destroyed.

He turned unnerving blue eyes to her. In this dim light their mako glow was enhanced beyond reason, making them even more disturbing. "We have a few hours. Come." Yuffie followed after him as he took her to the ground floor and into a room that looked like it had once held some sort of assembly line, but was now used as a practice area, filled with hundreds of targets that filled the air like a swarm of strange paper insects and sat on every available surface. Genesis waited quietly for a few seconds while she took in the plethora of targets, but then movement attracted her eye back to her guide. His hand indicated a wooden box on an old metal shelf, next to which boxes of ammunition were stacked. "Open it."

Yuffie cast him a worried glance, but it was impossible to tell if he even felt emotion, let alone what he was up to. She reached her hand out hesitantly, but was struck by the unnatural shape of the fingernails on her hand. Almost like...talons. With a quick mental shake of her head she touched the cool metal of the lock. The lock holding the box opened with a soft click, but the box itself opened on silent hinges. On a bed of red velvet lay a gun, one with which she had been made familiar through reports. "Its name is Velvet Nightmare. I hope that your training included firearms. It is now yours. Its former owner no longer possesses a need for it." Yuffie couldn't tell if the last was meant to be sarcastic or not. Trembling fingers drew the gun from its rest, but the hands that loaded it were sure. It had been years since she had last practiced with a gun, but somehow the grip felt right, better even than when she had first held a gun. So it was with assurance that she leveled its barrel at her target, aimed only for less than a second, and fired. A hole lay where the center of her target had once been.

"A side effect of mako enhancement is that the axons in your brain are modified, allowing the electrical impulses that coordinate the reception of sensory imput and reaction to travel at nearly ten times the normal rate. In other words, perfectly suited for firearms. I don't know if you will eventually adopt them as your primary weapons, but we will need their range today and as your shuriken was shattered, you will have to content yourself with Velvet Nightmare until you can acquire a new one." Genesis's voice was level, but Yuffie was staring at the weapon grasped lightly in her hand in disbelief. Gathering her courage, she moved on to the next target.

Genesis was ruthless, but she hadn't realized how far theses strange new changes had gone. It was almost as if the targets drew the bullets to their centers and she spent less and less time on the mechanics of it, until she was the gun, until at last Genesis stopped urging her. Yuffie let the gun fall to her side and drew a clammy hand against her forehead, which remained cool despite the exertion. She let her gaze wonder to her targets and her mouth almost fell open. As it was, she was too shocked to move. Every target in the room, hundreds of them, all had a hole, dead center in each target. Her widened eyes caught Genesis's but he did not react in any way she could interpret.

"You'll do. I have your ammunition belts and suchlike. And something else." From the shelf behind him he pulled a katana that seemed to pull at the light. It was in a half sheath made to go across the back, the only realistic way to wear a katana of that length, and its blade was dead black. Yuffie took it with shaking hands after laying down Velvet Nightmare and buckled it on. Her hair, still loose, almost caught on the strap, but miraculously flowed over the leather. She was beginning to have her suspicions that her initial worries of it catching on things or being caught by things would prove groundless. After the katana, Velvet Nightmare and

all of its accessories were adjusted on her waist.

Genesis had watched unemotionally as she had donned the weapons and only now did he shift his weight. Without a word he motioned for her to follow until they reached a door she was sure led outside. He gestured that she was to go first and she stepped into the bright light on the street and had to blink furiously to see anything. But even if her eyes had adjusted to the sudden influx of light more quickly it wouldn't have mattered, for in the fraction of a second it took her eyes to deal with the light Genesis's arms had scooped her up bridal style, and they held her like steel bands as his single wing unfurled and took them heavenward.

She had been in the air above Edge enough times to recognize it and Midgar was as blatantly obvious as ever when they reached its ruins, even though this time she didn't feel the usual nausea that accompanied her every movement experience in a vehicle. The rushing wind was pleasant, and felt warm despite their height. It didn't take them long to reach the tall building that appeared to be their destination. Genesis dropped her to the roof and landed gently beside her. He pointed out an unremarkable alley across the street from their building. Despite herself, Yuffie shivered, filled with welling memories of blood and chaos. She bit down on her tongue to stifle a whimper, but whimpered anyway when teeth that were much sharper than they had a right to be pierced her tongue.

Genesis's gaze was drawn by the noise. "Something wrong?" he inquired.

Yuffie shook her head nervously. "Just bit my tongue." And worse, she could feel the vaguely metallic taste of blood in her mouth. She had bitten down hard admittedly, but surely not that hard.

"With fangs like yours I would imagine it to be rather painful." he said offhandly, returning his gaze to across the street.

"Fangs?" Yuffie couldn't stifle her exclamation.

Genesis's gaze and tone were faintly mocking. "Surely you had noticed?"

Yuffie ran her abused tongue over her teeth. It was worse than she had thought. Even Vincent didn't have fangs, or at least she didn't think so. It wasn't as if they were even particularly noticeable, despite what Genesis had said. Just a bit more pronounced than your average human's eyeteeth. Not even fangs at all really, which meant Genesis had been mocking her sudden panic.

"Now that you've had your hysterical fit, you will observe that alley across the street conceals the entrance to the laboratory your party believes conceals you and Shelke. Something similar to what happened when you were ambushed will happen here. We will prevent your friends from being killed and I will collect the commander, who will hopefully survive." Genesis explained as they crouched in the fading light of afternoon.

The ninja drew Velvet Nightmare and gave him a predatory smile in return, baring the slight fangs he had mocked her about, before settling herself to wait for their prey to reveal themselves. Genesis allowed himself a secret smile as he watched the silver gleam of her eyes brighten in anticipation of the battle ahead. She had turned out better than he had anticipated. He found himself looking forward to the battle ahead. It was looking to amuse.