DISCLAIMER-- No affiliation with SquareEnix or the company's publishers resides with me. I am just a simple college student interested in perfecting my English Composition skills. Final Fantasy VII is possibly the greatest game I think I have ever played. I hope you all enjoy this story. Thank you.
CHAPTER ONE
Someone once told me that if I didn't quit smoking my lungs would blacken to beyond degradation. After this was done, I would collapse into a pool of my own blood and be lost to the twilights of time.
Well, that sounds a bit too drastically exaggerated for me to handle. Unfortunately, the sad truth is is that I do smoke an incredible amount of tobacco. It's not always tobacco, I mean there's tons more shit out there than just simple tobacco. Man, here in Midgar you can find just about anything from marijuana to black gum to a totally mind-wrenching bloody samurai ( that last one is a red mixture of the other two and God-knows-what-else). SOLDIER taught me a lot about all that stuff; yet, I don't presume that that wonderful imagery of my death would ever happen to me. No one dies anymore on this planet due to lung cancer. There are other cancers much more horrible and sickening than lung cancer to worry about. Besides, I've got way too much shit on my plate at this very moment than stewing over some dumbass thing such as lung cancer. Come to think of it, I'm on a train right now snaking its path through the inner subways of Lower Midgar at this very second.
There's four others with me, by the way; they're not the brighest people alive, either. The girl, though, is brighter than the other three I'll give her that much. Her name's Jessie. She could be a totally hot woman what with that fiery red hair and voluptous cream skin, but she's got her mind on other things. Engineering things more or less, especially bomb-making. She says she got a Bachelor's degree or something, but she doesn't talk about that much. Anyways, she makes the bombs. Biggs, the Steven Segal wannabe, usually secures the bombs into whatever it is these guys like to detonate.
Detonate? Yeah. I got dragged into this little organization called Avalanche, which happens to be a pretty big underground type of thing stretching maybe even outside the metropolis. Avalanche has a real bit of anger towards a corporation that I used to work for. Now I know what you're thinking: why am I here? In short, I was in the military some five years to this date. I advanced rather quickly, because a massacre of a war was taking place devastating the entire land from one side of the ocean to the other. Midgar eventually won the fight against the lesser of the two evils, Wutai, and the brass of the military appointed me and two others as high-tier officers. These positions were known as the famous SOLDIER First Class ranks, which really meant alot to the holders and the citizens alike.
The President of Midgar, (who is still in power) Shinra, screwed over the entire planet. That's being overly broad, but suffice it to say, that was the end result. He set up gigantic nuclear reactors around the city, in which these reactors inevitably polluted the atmosphere and made the lower regions of the city darkened and malnourished. The realm of Lower Midgar fell to slums and gang warfare. Death and sickness flourished. The eight reactors separated the city even more than it already was. Upper Midgar was still as rich and exquisite as it ever was.
Now a good question is this: why would the President let his own city fall to the terrible state it is in right now, and why doesn't he do something about it? All things considered, the President is the richest man in the land. Those two questions, along with another more tragic event, eventually led me to cut myself off from the military and Shinra's control forever. That move made me a wanted man, and I've had countless assassination attempts on me that have each failed. The land was changing, I quickly saw, and as always things look their bleakest when times are changing. Fortunately, the Lord that watches over us relieved my troubles in the form of Barret Wallace and his ragtag team of followers.
Mr Wallace is the self-proclaimed leader of the Avalanche organization, one of the few organizations that oppose Shinra and his corportation. Other oraganizations that come to mind are the Save the Earth Federation, Peace Prosper, and some funky ragtag group called the Warriors. Avalanche, though, has been the only oraganization to strike big with a great slew of successful arson attacks against some of Shinra's corporation buildings. Barret is very proud of the organization; as such, he still does not appreciate my presence in his gang, even though I've thrown every known history of my SOLDIER background in the gutter. The stubborn black fool with muscles as big as fucking watermelons still disapproves of me. Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge ( the last of the four weanies on this train with me) eventually coaxed Mr. Muscles to let me in. I guess they liked me or something.
Oh, an interesting thing about Muscle Guy: he's missing an arm. Aint that something? In its place, Wallace has grafted a machine gun. Not just any regular machine gun, though. A fucking M60, action reload machine gun. This Terminator of a man is able to life the seventy pound death weapon like it was a simple piece of paper and fire it without even flinching. With all that talent he would've made an excellent member of SOLDIER First Class.
So, here I am on this train, twiddling my thumbs, and staring at my fellow cohorts: Jessie, the tomboyish bombmaker who has the potential to be a totally hot glam chick; Biggs, the infiltrator and bombplacer who needs to grow some cojones and start acting like an actual man; Wedge, our sniper and food-lover who needs to get over Sheila ( even though the corporate businessman was way better looking than this pudgester); and Mr. Muscles, who with his gunarm just loaded on any bad person that came into his sights. Since they all knew of my background, they delegated my job to be an assistant to Wallace-- meaning I get to fuck shit up, too. Awesome.
The train was approaching Sector One's depot, and that was our destination. One of them at least. I wanted a cigarette badly, but I had left the damn package in my bedroom back at the hideout. Damn my luck, I was going to be antzy all night now. Just fucking great.
All of a sudden, I heard a heavy thumping noise reverberating along the carpeted aisle of the train cab. A heavy voice came along with it. "Cloud's your name, right? Cloud Strife?"
Strife. God, I hated that last name. Damn my mother and father. "Yeah, what do you want, B.W.?"
"That's Wallace to you, dipshit." Ah, Barret was always a cheerful person to be around. Especially with that humongous cigar sunk against his lower lip. He eyed me with displeasure. "Get that goddamn sword of yours and take care of those two guards at the security checkpoint."
"What you mean you want to kill people already."
"These aren't people! These are government robots."
"What are government robots?"
"Hence the term robots, they're fucking mechanical structures."
Okay. "Wait. Why don't you just blast them?"
"I'm assigning your ass to do it. Plans have changed some what. You and me are going in to the Core Room, and the other three are staying on the outside providing whatever mangled defense they can provide."
Well... this sounded like a load of shit. I leaned back and stretched out my muscles. They had been feeling rather sore since I woke up this morning. A little bit of weed would take care of that when we came home. As I stood up, I looked out the window. We had entered the train station; due to the fact that it was about three in the morning there wasn't a soul on this particular train besides us. Very convenient. I could see the two robots Barret was talking about-- their sleek, metallic coating was very familiar to me. Images of SOLDIER flickered through my head as I walked towards the door. The train's brakes screeched to a halt, and the hydraulics system unlocked the doors. I was wearing an oversized raincoat (black as usual), and I stepped off the train.
The subway contained its usual gritty smell that reminded of leftover piss floating around the bottom of a urinal. Drunken men lay passed out or stoned out against the walls, as if they were somebody's fucking rag doll just thrown into the corner of a bedroom. What a sickening sight. I was used to the upper crust of the city, not Midgar's teeming slum life. I would much rather have put a Glock to my head and pulled the trigger than be forced to live in this godawful pigsty. What a fucking mess.
The two robots saw my departure and uttered some incomprehensible shout. One carried a MP5 submachine gun and seemed to portray a human emotion of wariness in my movements. Shinra was making his toys more realistic by the day, it seemed. I walked over to their booth and placed my right hand on the pad. These things had to check each train passenger's fingerprints in order to keep the general public in a safe environment. The security checkpoint had a whole inventory of every human being listed in Midgar; the robots would know that my background would not fit a typical commoner of the Lower Midgar society.
As if on cue, the seated robot looked at my face, and the armed robot inched a little closer. In perfect English, the seated robot asked me, "Might I inquire your name, sir?"
Most people hated the robots yet always had a certain immobilizing fear of them (albeit the group Avalanche). I never really understood that. These were just a bunch of simple machines. My eyes remained focused and aware; my speech was clear and calm. "Fitzgerald."
"First name?"
"Daniel."
"Mr. Daniel Fitzgerald, where are you coming from?"
"Upper Midgar; Sector Five; Calhoun's Weapon Shoppe."
"And where are you going to?"
"Lower Midgar; Sector One; the Traversinco Plaza."
"And for what purpose?"
"To consult with my clients a certain, unpaid debt that they owe to my clients in Junon. The matter is urgent."
"And how do you plan to... consult them?"
"That is my matter."
The seated robot was silent, thinking. The armed robot seemed ready to do its thing. The seated robot stared a few times at me and at the computer. A couple times it clicked keys on some objects on the monitor and gave a grunt of disgust.
"Sir... my computer shows that there is no man with the name of Fitzgerald working at any place in the Sector Five district in Upper Midgar."
"Well your computer is wrong, dear robot."
The robot made a noise that sounded like a smoker's laugh. "No, Mr. Somebody, I'm afraid you're wrong."
A shotgun blast ripped through the roof and splintered the torso of the armed robot into shreds. The MP5 flew out of its hands, and its mangled body fell everywhere. The seated robot cowered in fear, as my left hand pulled out the smoking barrel of my sawed-off shotgun from within my raincoat. With my right hand, I reached behind me to my back and pulled out my four-foot Buster sword from its scabbard and sliced off the robot's head.
Now that I knew my actions had been caught on videotape, the mission seemed to have gotten a whole lot better. What fun. I went back to the train, peeked my head in, and hollered out, "Coast clear."
"God! Finally," shouted the voice of Biggs. His ugly-ass bandana waved around his pixieness of a head, as he jumped off the train and ran to the back of the station. Wedge came next carrying a big sniper rifle. He had perspiration glistening on his forehead, and his face seemed tense. Jessie was close behind him carrying a couple of pistols and a heavy-laden pouch of stuff. She gave me a flirting look that didn't seem appropriate given the conditions we were under. Finally, Barret came out with a small box in his only hand. "The bomb's in here, spiky hair. Next time, can you be a little quieter and not use that fucking gun of yours. That's louder than my gun."
"I like fighting a little army every once in a while."
A hint of disgust smeared his face, and Barret faced me. "Look, kid. This aint the military no more. This is a mission to bomb the military, bomb the Corporation, and bomb Shinra's pawns. You copy that?"
"Alright, father. You done lecturing me now."
He blew a billow of smoke into my face and left the train. Biggs could be heard laughing hysterically and holding something. "By God, I've always wanted one of these." He was holding up the fallen robot's MP5. "It's mine now."
"Shut your trap," Barret grunted. "What with Cloud's racket, it won't benefit us any more better than to have you masterbating here. Get your dick over to the south side like we planned."
Biggs took another gleeful eye at the gun before holstering it and running out the station down the cobblestone street. His part of the mission was to secure the southern gates of the Sector One reactor. A fairly small MP unit had a guardhouse there, and he was going to destabilize that. Pretty simple, but ol Rambo probably'd make an ass out of himself over it. One thing had to be done first, though. Past the small guardhouse stood a wide arena before the main entrance to the nuclear reactor. The main entrance was locked with a special code that was only accessible by deactivating it in a guard tower erected high above it. The loft the guard tower stood on was eight stories tall and barely accessible by man. The police at the guardhouse made sure nobody could get access to the power plant unless they were employees with Shinra backgrounds. Wedge had the first hand of the operation. He would scale an apartment complex that lay across the guard loft, and he would find a suitable spot on the rooftop under cover of darkness. Focusing in just right, he would fire upon the switch and destroy its mechanisms, allowing the main entrance to the reactor to become automatically accessible. Of course, the shots from the sniper rifle will alert the police, but that's where Biggs would come in.
Jessie looked uncomfortable but eager enough to carry out her part of the mission. That pouch apparantly contained a whole bunch of decoding stuff to unlock specialty doors within the reactor complex. Her job was easy, but that's pretty typical for the girl to do in my opinion.
As for myself and B.W. we got to stick our hides into the fire and save everybody else. What fun.
Wedge and Biggs were off in the darkness. Few streetlights shone in this part of the slums, and the whole world around here was as dead as a tomb. I expelled the spent shell from my shotgun and loaded another in. This piece of a weapon proved invaluable to me in the war. The sword was only a secondary tool. Don't get me wrong, I love the damn thing, but guns just interest me more. There's just something cool about them, something that strikes me as awesome. Can't go wrong with the sword, though. Nosiree.
Barret was off into the dark, and Jessie and I followed. The three of us moved quietly down the cobblestone road. At this time of night, there usually wasn't a cop around it or a robot or anything else for that matter. All the bums were asleep on someone's doorstep, all the whores were in somebody's bed, and every half-way decent person was deep in slumber. The only people up and about were us and a few lousy policemen. Or so I hoped.
A large lighted area of Sector One appeared, and an annoying neon display in bright green read: POLICE. A glass window revealed three sleepy-eyed officers watching camera monitors of the reactor. These guys looked easy. We lay in the shadows a few hundred yards from their post. I figure that Biggs should be a little closer on the other side.
"I hope that fat bastard knows how to fire a rifle, " Barret griped.
On cue, a tremendous noise ripped the tranquil night apart, and a second noise sounded immediately afterwards. The second sounded like a cracking noise. The rifle had hit its mark.
"I guess he does," I said.
"Lucky shot."
The police jumped out of their chairs and ran outside the guardhouse shouting obscenities. Before they could check the damage out, a second volley of sounds ripped apart the sky again, and their bodies tore apart in spatters of red. They hit the ground and did not move. Biggs appeared out of the darkness, blowing the smoke out of his stolen MP5. "Now that's a bitchin' gun," he said, smiling.
We made our way into the arena. The plan was going perfectly now. Lots of noise and blood splattering everywhere. Yeah, that's some good shit right there. I stole a peek at the guard loft. A trail of smoke was eschewing out of the top. A fucking direct hit that was. Glancing at the main entrance, I could see sparks zigzagging across it. Sure enough, the door was forcibly unlocked.
Barret cleared his throat. "Wedge'll join us later, hopefully. Get ready, fools, we're going in." He gave a kick at the door, and it fell open. Almost immediately, a warning shot zipped out at us missing Jessie's face by inches. Loud, distorted voices came from within followed by more gunshots. Biggs got shot in the arm, and my big spiky hair got split apart as we ducked inside. We were in a lobby room, and there was about twenty armed employees and policemen here firing like bats out of fucking hell on us. I pulled Jessie close to me and ducked both of us behind a large plush sofa. Barret and Biggs ducked behind a long wall; the latter fell behind B.W. and clutched his bleeding arm hard. A whole mess of bullets blanketed the walls, ceiling, floor, and our crappy sofa. Some of the bullets bled through the fabric and zipped past Jessie's head and mine. The attackers were at the far end of the lobby room, some behind their own sofas and others crowded on the stairs leading down towards the reactor's bowels. Clutching the shotgun in one hand, I found a mark and shot a man on the stairs. His body hit the wall and lay still. I gritted my teeth and expelled the shell. The only problem with this dang blasted gun was that it could contain one shell at any given time. At this point of time, that was a pain in the ass.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Barret unleashing hell with his weapon. His M60 was loud and rambunctious. He devastated the far end sofa and tore apart the seven bodies behind it. Apparantly the guys on the stairs didn't like that, and one of them maneuvered just right and shot Barret's right side. The force of the shot drove him to the ground, and a squirt of blood poured out of him. I had the shell in, and I lept up and fired that guard on the stairs in the face. Good stuff.
"I'll cover for you," Jessie piped up, barely audible above the din.
"What?"
"Slash them up. I'll cover for you." Without a response, she manuevered and shot her dual pistols at the knees of several of the guys on the stairs. They lost their balances and fell to the ground. Girl power. Twirling the gun into my holster, I brandished my sword and stood up. Running from cover to cover in the lobby room, I evaded the attacker's shots. When I got into range, I leapt and slashed their chests apart one by one without them able to fire back.
The room was now quiet. But a little more unpleasant than it was before.
"Aw fuck! That was not part of the plan," Barret griped.
"Stop bitchin, I'm hurt, too," Biggs said. "I'm gonna need stitches."
The once peaceful lobby room now looked like a butcher's meat locker with all the dead hanging like discarded puppets on the rail of the stairs. Violence was so cool sometimes.
The two men got up wincing like little babies, and Jessie went over to them and pulled something out of her pouch. It looked like some plastic vial thingy with a mesh of liquid inside it. They looked at it suspiciously.
"It's a Potion, a health boost drink," she said. "Down it, and your wounds will heal more faster and cleaner."
Biggs gulped his portion; Barret, as usual, was skeptical. "How can a drink heal wounds?"
"It cauterizes the wound by heating up your blood. Oxidants within your bloodstream react and form a chain of molecules that work like improvised platelets in your skin; that, in turn, heals your cuts and makes your skin stronger."
Barret shrugged like an idiot and downed his portion. Screwing up his face, he griped again, "Man, that tastes like piss."
She sighed, "It's going to help you. Look, it's already starting to work." Indeed it was, for on Barret's dark black skin the wound was slowly closing up, the blood throughly drying.
He shrugged again. "I don't care much about biology or anatomy. Right now, the core is below us, and that is where we need to go." He was off with the last word, heading for the stairs. Biggs followed, repeatedly checking on his rapidly healing wound as well.
Jessie looked at me, and her eyes were very weird in this light. The light was dim now since the hail of bullets and the spatter of blood had caked everything up. Yet, her eyes seemed to suggest something. I think she was digging me or something. She snug her pouch back on her shoulder and left after the other two, and I was alone in the meat locker. Now it was feeling kind of eerie in here with all the goddamn dead around. No proper burials for these guys; these chumps died in vain. Fortunately, a ray of light saved the day for me.
There was a vending machine over on that wall.
And there was cigarettes!
I gotta stop having these urges I tell you. But since that's impossible... I mosied on over to the machine and plunked in three gil coins into the slot. Hmm... three brands that suck: Vintage Lights, Midgar Blues, and Camel. I guess beggars can't be choosers. I selected a Vintage pack and picked it out of its confinement and turned around.
A big maroon object disappeared into a shaft on the ceiling. It looked like a tail, a smaller part of a much bigger piece of something.
I almost dropped my pack when I saw it. What in the world was that thing? I pulled out my shotgun and walked slowly towards that shaft and peered inside. Nothing but blackness and dry air seeping out of it. Man, I must've really been craving these cigs if I'm hallucinating giant tails crawling around on walls and ceilings. That's kind of weird. I placed a brown cigarette to my lips, lit the tip, blew a brilliant steam of smoke, and descended the blood-splattered stairs to the core. The air felt much more colder down here. I also had a bad feeling that that giant tail thingy was down here as well.
Jessie was punching in some secret code or something when I got to the bottom of the stairs. Damn, that was about nine flights or something like that. I had to go three damn cigarettes before I reached the end. Life is tough sometimes. A positive-sounding noise emitted from the screen, and a hydraulics system whirred and whined. The door slid open revealing an empty room with an elevator at the back end. Pipes and valves lined both sides of the walls, and the ceiling and floor were grated. The room looked depressing.
"Biggs, stand guard here," B. W. ordered.
"Is this a reasonable location?" he asked checking the whole wide expanse around him. The room we were in was incredibly vast and dark, lit only by a few neon wall lights that resembled the rooms of a morgue. Creepy shit.
"It should be. You're pretty good with that AK or whatever that gun is. Just be aware of what's around, and don't fall asleep this time."
"Wilco, Sarge."
Barret rolled his eyes and entered the room with Jessie behind him. I took another look at the vast room trying to find any other signs of that damn tail. You know, it would probably have benefited us all to tell them what I saw back in the lobby. That would be a wise thing to do... but whoever said I was a wise person. I saluted Biggs and followed the other two.
You could drop a pin in this room, and its contact with the floor would emit the most deafening noise you ever heard before in your life. Our footsteps were excruciating; it was as if the room were some hollow oak log or some dank cave where your echoes could go on forever and ever. The pipes were all moist, too, dripping with some irridescent mucus covering that glowed green in color. A brilliant type of green, kind of like what a freshly-mowed lawn would look like. That type of green. It was cold in here, but there seemed to be a slight warmth flowing from within the pipes for steam was slightly rising from the tops of them.
What was that?
Three little orbs were snug in a valve protruding from the wall. Three different colored orbs. A blue, a yellow, and a white.
"Hey, guys, check this out over here."
Barret turned around with a sigh of disgust, and Jessie had a look of inquiry in her eyes. They came over and looked at them with mixed emotions.
Jessie seemed to like the brilliant colors, but Barret was about as pleased as watching paint dry. "Three orb things. What did you really call me over here for?"
"Haven't you ever seen something as peculiar as this before?"
"Nah, I'm not into gay stuff as that. Sorry."
"I don't see anything gay about this."
"I do. It's got nothing to do with our mission."
"And that makes it gay?"
"Yes. It's just three pieces of rock. Who gives a shit?"
He turned with another sigh of disgust and hastened towards the elevator. Jessie took another look at the glowing jewels and then turned to me with a sweet smile on her face. "Come on, we don't have enough time." She left me there.
What a bunch of simple-minded idiots. How could they ignore something as beautiful as these things, whatever they were. I took another look at them, and as I looked I had a memory. A memory that happened some time ago. These strange orbs were familiar to me, yet I couldn't place where I remembered seeing them or even remembered what they were called. I decided to take them anyway. I grabbed the yellow one ( it was the best looking).
My hand closed around it, and I felt a tremor rush through my body like a fucking seizure. My eyes dilated, and my fingers tingled with an insane, unearthly power. I wrenched the orb out of its socket, squeezed it, and a gigantic lightning bolt seared out of my body and fried the ceiling above me. Sparks from the grated panels dispersed everywhere, and smoke clouded the room. The magic spell was brief, and my body returned to its normal state. I instantly recognized the orb.
"What the fuck did you just do?" exclaimed Barret. His voice was one of fright mixed with astonishment mixed with awe. His eyes were as big as saucer plates.
I was happy now. Now our mission just got much better. "I told you these things were peculiar. These are Materia orbs. Magic spells. It's a friendly reminder of the ancient times, when these were common spectacles to behold. This one in my hand is a lightning spell, that blue one's an Ice spell, and that white one's something I don't know off the tip of my tongue. I don't think it's an attack spell, though."
Jessie seemed pleased; Barret just looked stupid. Apparantly, what I said didn't register in his brain. "So what do they do?"
I grabbed the other two and felt similar powers race through my body. Fortunately, I didn't trigger any reactions from them this go around. Ignoring Barret's question, I said, "We're in good condition now. Shall we proceed?"
Barret seemed to be caught in a whirlwind of thoughts and confusion. It was kind of funny seeing him like that. Cradling the small bomb close to his side, he answered, "I guess that sounds good."
We reached the elevator, ignoring the deafening sounds from our footsteps, and Jessie decoded the security panel. The door opened up revealing a leather interior. Charming Mozart music greeted us softly as we stepped inside. Ah, violins, peaceful anywhere you go. Jessie closed the doors and hit the button for the bottom floor. We were very close to reaching the Core Room. One more spacious room to cross, one more door for Jessie to open and guard, and then Barret and I could install our baby. I lit another Vintage and smiled at the taste.
"God," Barret said suddenly, gritting his teeth.
"What?" Jessie asked. His grunt had made her jump.
"These machines. These fucking life-sappers."
"What are you talking about?" I asked, puffing irritably. If I knew what was coming, it was going to be another one of his Shinra-hating lectures.
"Why do humans just want to destroy things. Destroy the very essence of life around them."
"You talkin about these reactors?" I told you he would do it.
"Yes, you spiky-haired prick. That foul president is killing us all with these nuclear reactors. He's halting the growth of life by promoting more and more money to these death machines. Don't you see? These reactors reap all the minerals from our soil, cut off the food supplies to all the citizens of Lower Midgar, and they have polluted the rivers that run through the mountains south of the city! Midgar is sitting in an arid wasteland with no sustenance whatsoever and the president don't give a flying fuck about it."
Mozart played on above us. The elevator's door opened up revealing, thankfully, an empty room.
I blew another billow of smoke, walked out, and turned to meet his gaze. "Is the obvious solution then to blow his reactors to hell, which could have the great potential of killing most of the citizens in each of the eight Sectors of the city?"
Jessie looked at me sharply. Barret asked, "You got a better solution?"
"Yes. Just let the events run their course. Don't intervene with God's plan and try a gung-ho move like blowing up these reactors. If you don't like it, move out to Kalm or go west where the world seems peaceful and fun-loving over there."
Barret laughed. "See, see that's what I knew you felt about the situation. Guess what, Cloud, millions of people here are suffering because some fool of a man has rounded them all up in a tiny, congested spot on the earth, and he is slowly killing them all off. What is his purpose? I don't know. He is a sick and evil man, and I am going to stop him, Cloud. And you should be agreeing with me. You were a former SOLDIER man! You know all the behind-the-scenes stuff on Shinra's thinking."
"There you go! You're absolutely right, Barret. I know everything about the president's train of thought. I could parrot everything he said to you right now, but that wouldn't mean a thing to us. Unfortunately, I don't care about it. None of it, Barret, none of it. It doesn't mean a damn thing to me. The only thing that matters to me right now is your payment to me at the end of this mission."
He looked like he just got hit by a truck. "What!"
I blew the last puff from my cig and then crushed it on the floor.
Angry, he smashed the wall with his foot. "Fuck! The money is all that you care about!"
I nodded. Was it really that hard to comprehend? The planet was already meant to be dead from the very beginning. Humans are fundamentally evil.
"I can't..." he couldn't finish. He looked at the bomb, fiddled around with it, and handed it to me. "Through that door is our target. Will you please install the bomb?"
"You coming inside, too?"
"Yeah, I'm just asking you to--"
"I'll install the damn thing."
Barret sighed and brushed past me. Jessie bit her lip and couldn't look me in the eye. God dang it all. Was this so hard to comprehend?
She waited at the door, her two pistols pressed against her chest, her face grim and taut. We advanced inward, my shotgun pressed against my thigh and my sword on my back. The bomb was cradled like a precious two-month old in my right arm. Barret was ahead with his M60 searching for surprises anywhere. If there was a surveillance system in this Core Room ( and there probably was), we were already spotted a millenium ago. If that weird tail thing was here, we were probably in for a fun trip. Either way, we laid our argument aside for the moment and walked towards the steel frame.
This room was the most vast of all the rooms of the reactor. There was no ceiling for the large steel frame in the center of the room rose high into the sky. The frame was the main structure of the whole reactor, the sole piece of the puzzle granting the reactor all its strength and energy to carry out its duties. All the power was formulated inside this steel frame, all the ions and electrons and God-knew-what-else was built up in this thing. The frame sat on a strongly supported island high above a great pit of acid-- the yummy yummy leftovers and wastes the reactor's power did not use (another example of the harmful substances plaguing the city of Midgar). A crosswalk that connected the platform we were on to the island was the only accessible means to reach the steel frame. Up in the sky, the steel frame rose past the plate and past Upper Midgar; all eight reactors were built the same way. It was here that the atmosphere was being polluted; the steel frame was open at the very top, and all of its gases and oils eschewed into the clouds cloaking the world in its wastes.
Yeah, sure it was bad. But what could you do anyway? We were only causing more trouble with bombing the damn thing. This really didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Unfortunately, my opinion is only a two-cents remark; besides, it wasn't regarded very highly anyway.
We stepped onto the crosswalk, and a small sense of vertigo afflicted me. My head grew a little light, and my feet felt a little like jello. The steam rising from the acid pit was really warm, and it didn't quite help the feeling I was having. I kept my eyes peeled on the tower, and I eventually stepped onto the island. The feeling soon passed away.
Barret's hands were gripping the railing that wrapped around the steel frame tightly, and he snapped, "God, I hate this place."
I ignored him and stooped to the base of the tower. The bomb was an ingenious creation and a little crude. It was small and had two handles that could hook into two of the many holes encompassing the base of the tower. As I seated it in place, I wrapped the yellow spiral cord protruding out the side of the bomb and worked it in a latch on the tower. I tweaked some knobs and buttons and set a timer of ten minutes on the interface. That was more than enough time to blow the thing skyhigh and escape from it. I punched a button, and the time clock started down. "Time to blow."
A loud rumbling noise came from our right, and a large piece of metal came off the wall and fell into the acid pit. Its metal frame dissolved instantly in the goo, and a great gush of steam billowed up from it. Our eyes reverted to the great gaping hole, and the missing body to the great big red tail I saw earlier appeared out of it.
It was a giant metal scorpion.
Of all the things in the world: a giant metal scorpion! It was all red metal, except for gun-plated arms and a narrow slit in its head where two dark-yellow circles lay. Eyes, I assumed. Its tail was nasty and bloody, as if it had recently just impaled somebody multiple times and then heaved the body around like a rag doll. A mechanical noise came out of it as it saw us, and it curled into an unusual position. Before we could react, it sprang with a startling quickness straight at us.
To our good fortune, a deafening shot echoed in the room, and the scorpion was hit in its metal thorax. The force of the bullet pushed it backwards away from us, but the scorpion flailed its legs and gripped the sides of the crosswalk, saving itself from an acidic death. We looked to our left and spotted Wedge reloading another shot into his Junonian-made sniper rifle. Our glorious savior.
"Fuck, this is going to cost us," Barret said, fixing his gunarm and running towards the flailing robot. A mess of bullets penetrated through the crosswalk and nailed the robot's skin. It clung desperately to the railing fighting against the onslaught of Barret's terrific M60 machine gun. A couple of its legs lost grip, and its body sagged downward; a couple more hits and the thing was toast. Unfortunately, Barret's clip went out, and the gun blew empty rounds. He cursed and hastened to reload; this was not good, because I could see that the scorpion was pissed. Indeed, it pulled itself together and leapt backwards end over end onto the crosswalk. Its gunarms opened alive firing little beads at us with fumbled accuracy. A couple hit Barret's back, and he dove to the ground dropping his new clip. I dodged the spray of bullets and fumbled for the Lightning Materia in my belt.
I knew these mechanical robots did not have a liking to thunderous activity. The electricity short-circuited their innards, and the lesser mechanical monsters were easily crushed assunder with this Materia. This big bitch of a beast could take a beating. This magic, though, would weaken it, and I smiled greedily. I wrapped my hand around the orb and felt the energy whip through my body. Instantly, a jagged bolt of lightning zigzagged out of me and penetrated the creature's abdomen. It was so powerful that it cut off the mechanical circulation to three of its eight legs. The right gunarm fell off, and it's two right hind legs disentigrated into nothingness. The poor little thing stopped firing and fell lopsided against the railing of the crosswalk and whimpered.
I saw Barret smile, as he loaded his clip. He laid a second round on the creature. Large sheathes of metal peeled off of it, and Barret succeeded in lopping off another limb. The scorpion shriveled backward and backward helplessly and defenselessly. I pulled my big Buster sword off my back and rushed to the dying creature, preparing to deliver a final blow. Yet, I failed to see that the creature had a Plan B. It's tail was still alive and throbbing, and it raised it up. I barely saw a bright ball of blue light flicker above the tip of the tail before a flash of light illuminated the Core Room. A searing laser rocked me into the air and tore the crosswalk in half. The chunks of metal floor fell into the acid. Barret had rolled out of the way of the laser, but I was thrown all the way into the steel tower. My back hit hard against the frame, and I landed on my stomach on the island. Damn, that hurt.
With apparant renewed confidence, the scorpion stumbled to a standing position and was going to fire from its left gunarm. Its eyes deepened a darker yellow, almost as if it was having a pleasurable experience over this.
Wedge's rifle cracked alive, and the bullet ripped through its abdomen. The scorpion cried out sharply and genuflected. It cried in undeniable pain. Yet, Wedge was a master of the sniper rifle, and he had another bullet loaded in the chamber in record time. He aimed higher and fired a third, direct shot into the scorpion's head. The yellow eyes faded out, and the scorpion's body plummeted over the railing and dissolved quickly in the acid pit below.
"Come on!" Wedge yelled. "Take the stairs in the room Jessie's guarding up and come to my position. We're too late to reach our starting point! There's an entrance to a sewer system over here. Hurry!" He then turned and ran down the hallway.
I saw Barret get up, and I started to. My lower back cried out in pain. Shit, I hope I wasn't paralyzed. I wasn't, but it didn't feel good. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the time clock. "Fuck! We got less than four minutes!"
"Can you get up!"
I struggled up and fell back to the floor. I struggled again and made it this time. I sheathed the sword back in its place and winced as I straightened my back. I hope there wasn't a damn bone broken. I could see a couple streaks of blood on Barret's back, but he didn't seem to be aware of that. "Thank God for Wedge, eh?"
"Hell yeah, but look at this shit! That damn son of a bitch robot fried part of this crosswalk!"
He was right. We were going to have to jump over this hole. Good news for my damn back. Barret immediately hopped across the gap expertly landing on the other side. He turned and jerked his arm. "Come on!"
That damn sense of vertigo hit me again. Of all the bloody times.
"Come on, Cloud!"
Gritting my teeth and wishing for a cigarette, I jumped and winced at the pain in my lower back. I thought I felt something shift down there. I made the other side haphazardly, and Barret caught my arms and dragged me down the crosswalk. The time clock kept its steady pace. I didn't realize it before, but there were klaxons going off; their deathly, monotonous sirens rang and rang signalling the end of the life of the reactor.
Jessie was waving frantically, and Biggs had joined her. We reached them and took the stairs, frantically scaling as fast as we could. At the top, we ran across the platform, into the upper regions of the Core Room, and down the hallway. Wedge stood frantically waving his arms; the klaxons continued ringing unabated. My back ached tremendously.
As soon as we reached the door, the klaxons stopped. The room fell ill to a deadly silence, and I faintly heard a popping noise. On the walls, a reflection of intense light shone brightly on its metal frame. The air and the atmosphere became much, much warmer. Then, all five of us fell into a shaft, down bumps and corners and into finally a vast, rank outlet; we landed in the sewers just as Sector One's Mako Reactor blew to high heaven. It was so fucking deafening, all our ears felt like they had been sliced off in one clean swoop. Heat from the sweltering fires above reached us even down here, and bits and pieces of strewn metal fell into the slick rivers of sewage. We could only presume what the carnage looked like on the outside at this wee hour of the morning.
Wedge finally had a contented look on his face, as he sat there with his back against the wall, the sniper rifle lying in his lap. He always was uptight, tense. Now, he finally seemed at one with himself. Thank God he was there at the Core Room. I think I owe him a beer now.
Our little destruction had blocked the exit of the sewer system, and right now Jessie had managed a little stick of dynamite in her big pouch and was applying it to the smashed rubble. That chick could think of anything.
Biggs was applying a medicine needle to his arm. Whether it was an actual medicine or a dose of heroin I'm not sure-- but it always made him happy afterwards.
Barret and I were drinking Potions that Jessie also had in her pouch. Barret's scars were practically all healed. Mine were about half-way done, but my back still ached like crap. Barret was right. These little drinks did taste like piss.
"Okay, boys, clear out," she called out while running away from the blocked entrance. We covered our ears, and a few seconds later a small explosion blew the rubble apart; clear light shone into the dank sewer, and we quickly escaped its confinement. We all kind of smelled like sweat, smoke, and shit. Mm-mmm. Lovely combination.
At four o'clock in the morning, nothing in Lower Midgar is awake. All the people and glamour stuff are up and about at this hour in Upper Midgar. Down here, though, nothing exciting goes on here. Except for the burning reactor high above us. Oh man, it's so cool looking. Jesus, we ruined the thing. The frame is nothing more than a fiery skeleton. Tons of burning metal lay everywhere. And wouldn't you know it, just like I said earlier: some of the apartment complexes and dwellings around the reactor got tore apart by burning debris. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if there were a few casualties around here. Was the plot successful? I guess you can say the reactor died so the job got done. Heh. Just tell that to these apartment dwellers. I'm sure they'll happily oblige with that.
Barret, though, was smiling. "Mission accomplished. One down, seven to go. Then to Phase Two, my friends: Shinra Corporation itself."
Biggs, Jessie, and Wedge all smiled and nodded like kids at a birthday party. I made no response, and I think they noticed that. Barret ignored it, and looked around him. "Alright, gang. People are obviously awake right now. Split up and meet at the train station. According to my watch if it's still working-- which it is-- the next train departs at 0430. We've got about seventeen minutes til then. I imagine that with this latest commotion, all means of business and transportation have come to a halt temporarily so the train probably won't leave on schedule. Even so, be there at 0425. Everyone understand?"
We all nodded. He gave a triumphic grin and raised his middle finger at the direction of Shinra Corporation, and then he took off westward. The other two guys went south, while Jessie went east stealing a shy glimpse at me while leaving. Standing alone there, I had a fleeting idea of not showing up. Boy, would that be hilarious. It actually sounded like a good idea.
But then I remembered I wouldn't get paid.
And that was 3000 gil!
Shit. I guess I had to go to the train station after all. I let out a heavy sigh and proceeded in a northerly direction straight to the marketplace.