A view of Deepground during he conflict with the WRO, from the perspective of someone who had once worked there and known its inhabitants.
For some reason, inspired by a line from Goo Goo Dolls' Big Machine and leaving the song on repeat for over four hours.
Disclaimer: I own neither Final Fantasy VII and its derivatives or the song listed above. These respectively belong to Square Enix and the Goo Goo Dolls.
The young woman stood on the ledge, looking out at the destruction that was Midgar. She was nowhere near the conflict, by design, but she couldn't resist coming here to try and catch a glimpse of the people she had known. The Deepground soldiers were completely masked and unidentifiable, so she couldn't recognize anyone she used to know. But she could, maybe, see one of the others.
She had worked for Shinra for a few months as a medical assistant before her aptitude for mechanics had wound up in a transfer to Deepground. Of all the people in the WRO, only Emir Falk, the head physician, knew where, exactly, she had spent the majority of her time. Commissioner Tuesti knew she was employed by Shinra in the medical unit, but nothing more. Her files didn't list where she was. No one had wanted anyone to know who made the trip below the city.
She had ended up in Deepground at seventeen, and she spent the majority of her next two, two and a half years there. Her initial impressions of the organization had been ones of distaste and shock, but over the first few weeks she began to get used to the unique culture there. She viewed it as a psychosocial research project. She'd always wanted to get into some field of neuroscience.
Her habit of observation tended to relegate her to the shadows of the facility, and that was how, six months into her posting, she met the Tsviets. Her position as a medical assistant didn't expose her to the upper levels of Deepground's hierarchy, though she did know that the cybernetics project she was assigned to was for that group. Beyond that, she knew next to nothing about them, being hurried out of the labs every time one of the Tsviets were due in for medical attention.
She remembered, as she watched once again from the shadows, slowly backing into a corner in order to better observe a group of First Class SOLDIERs, and ending up backing into someone instead. She had been sure she was going to die, recognizing from the non-standard uniform that she had bumped into one of the Tsviets, but the young man simply regarded her with a quizzical, slightly amused look to his face and asked her what she was doing skulking about outside of the labs. She had told him immediately, not daring to lie to this one, and he had cocked an eyebrow at her and left her be. She remained, trying to half-heartedly watch as she originally intended, for a few minutes, and then returned to the relative safety of the labs, too shaken to do anything else.
It was another two weeks before she ran into the young man again. She still didn't know his name, not willing to ask any questions for fear her habits would be found out. She had no idea if anyone already knew, but in the interest of self-preservation decided not to draw attention to it. She encountered him in the shadows again, this time not watching but walking back to the temporary quarters that had been assigned for her use when the cybernetics project got sticky and kept the scientists involved there late. He had said nothing to her, only regarded her with a mild interest when she offered him a tentative smile, and watched her as she entered her room. It was unnerving. She felt almost as if she could feel his gaze, and she had never felt that before. She had resolved then and there not to get anywhere near him or any of the other Tsviets ever again, if they were that powerful.
She didn't get a choice. Three days later, a training accident between some of the Tsviets and the lower classes resulted in her superiors hurrying her out of the labs through a back door when she heard a slow, cultured voice that she recognized. She couldn't make out the words, but the conversation resulted in one of the Researchers - there never was a more apt term, as these people were definitely not doctors - abruptly pulling her back into the labs and sending her to look at a young woman with red hair and a murderous gaze. She had a nasty gash down her back, but she never made a sound as it was tended and closed. From her dress, she knew the woman was a Tsviet, but she had no idea which one, and she didn't dare ask.
Once the impromptu surgery had been finished and all the patients cleared away, the Researcher who had pulled her back into the room took her aside and asked her several questions she found hard to answer. The only thing she was able to tell the man did not satisfy him, but he seemingly accepted it, she was sure, due to the look on her face. She had caught a glimpse of herself in a glass and privately thought she looked so much like a frightened rabbit that she would end up getting shot in mistake. The questioning ended with the push of a few files into her hands and the command to take them back to her corner of the lab and familiarize herself with them, under no circumstances removing them from the area.
From these she discovered the names of the two she now knew, Nero and Rosso, and the names of the rest, Weiss, Argent, Shelke, and Azul. She was surprised to find Nero only a year older than herself; he had struck her as young but already in his twenties from the way he carried himself. She was not surprised to find out the reason she always encountered him in the shadows. Rosso's age came as somewhat of an amusing shock. Two years older than Nero, she would have put the Crimson Tsviet as barely older than herself, from the petulant, childish way she seemed to act. But perhaps that was only due to her injury. Reading between the lines led her to the discovery that Weiss was Nero's brother, the level of skill shared by the two easy to accept but the difference in coloring fascinating her. Argent interested her. She had always thought she had never met any of the Tsviets before Nero, but it turned out that the quiet woman who sometimes watched her and the other scientists work on the cybernetics project was the Silver Tsviet. She wondered if the cybernetics project was for her. Shelke and Azul were both so changed by their time here, she didn't know whom to pity more. One forever locked into a child's body due to an accident with mako - this made her snort, for she was sure it was no accident - and the other of massive size and capable of altering his form. Both never able to achieve any semblance of normalcy. At least the other Tsviets could pass as normal humans on the street. Well, Shelke could also, but she was willing to bet that the first person to speak with a highly intelligent fourteen year old with a killer's eyes that looked no older than ten would know something was not right.
By the time she finished reading the files, the entrance to the surface had been locked down and she ended up having to spend the night in Deepground again. In the morning, she rose far earlier than she was used to, her dreams filled with people she had never met and only read about. When she opened her door to walk back to the lab, she nearly walked into Argent and Rosso, the former directing Rosso into her care and informing her the gash needed looking at. She did it, but Rosso never spoke. It was the same for the next two days. She would come in to work, Rosso would show up a few minutes later, she would see to her, and Rosso would leave, all without uttering a sound.
On the fourth day after she had read the files and found out who everyone was, Argent came to the labs and called for her to follow. She did, and Argent explained on the way that she was required to keep absolutely quiet about what she was going to see. Apparently, Shelke had been involved in an SND when Nero and Weiss, engaged in a minor argument, had managed to not pay attention to where they were going and the resulting sparks of darkness Nero had tossed at Weiss simply because he could and because they were brothers - Argent's exact words, but she didn't dare laugh - got caught in Shelke's equipment. They didn't want to disconnect her, though the machine had shorted out, and they didn't want to give the Restrictor any reason to order more experiments. Thus, as Nero seemed to trust her - why she didn't know, but she assumed it had something to do with her habit of sneaking about in shadows going unnoticed - and Argent had seen her work on both computerized systems and the human body, they had decided to call her. The Researchers wouldn't ask, as she had been placed on a list of people to medically attend to the Tsviets during practice. They would simply assume she was wanted for backup during training.
When they reached the room, she was greeted by a still Shelke, an Azul who looked very bored, and Rosso snickering at Weiss and Nero, who were involved in a whispered argument that seemed to consist mainly of an attempt at placing the blame squarely on one brother's shoulders. Argent rolled her eyes and motioned for her to go and see to Shelke. What she found surprised her, as all the system required was a simple reboot, albeit it had to be done in stages, in order to preserve the young Tsviet's mind. It was apparent that none of her fellows knew how her equipment worked. It was also apparent that Shelke was less than impressed with Nero and Weiss, as when the system rebooted and she disengaged from the SND, she addressed her, and pointedly ignored the two brothers, whose argument had ceased upon Shelke's awakening. Her annoyance with them culminated in her leaving the room without so much as glancing at them, at which point the argument resumed. Argent simply rolled her eyes again and asked for an explanation on how the equipment worked, so as, as she put it, to prevent further instances of stupidity. Nero and Weiss had literally squawked at that, and she was so hard-pressed to keep from bursting out into laughter that she was certain would get her killed, that she clapped one hand over her mouth, pinched herself with the other, and turned her gaze to the computers. Over the din that ensued, she heard Rosso snickering again.
Over the next few months, she was called into the Tsviets' private area more and more, until she supposed, given their apparent level of familiarity and comfort with her, she was viewed as an extension of the furniture. Azul ignored her, leading to the furniture assumption, but Rosso had begun addressing her. Especially after she came to the labs, and subsequently the Tsviets' company, with painted nails one day. They had been a deep red, looking back she agreed with Rosso that it did look like she had dipped them in blood, and it had gotten Rosso's immediate attention. She had never seen nail polish before. She had picked up one of her hands without warning and given it a thorough examination; it wasn't until Rosso asked her who she had killed that she realized what was so interesting. The explanation that followed puzzled Rosso to such an extent that she had promised to bring in a bottle for her to see. When she did, Rosso asked if she could keep it, and every now and then she would catch a glimpse of a red painted nail beneath Rosso's gloves.
Weiss occasionally addressed her, as did Shelke. Argent was more talkative, but the one who spoke to her the most by far was Nero. He had never seen the surface she learned, or at least he couldn't remember it, and Rosso's descriptions of the holographic world aboveground didn't suit him. He wouldn't go in there himself if he could help it, much preferring dark corners or the subdued, slightly bluish light of the rooms in Deepground. Thus, as the only person to whom he had regular access that frequented and was raised on the surface, she became his information source of choice. She would be called down whenever they were training, which was often, and as most of the time she really wasn't needed, she would sit on the sidelines and watch and work on her cybernetics project, and Nero would be nearby and ask her questions that she would answer while splitting her mind between him, her work, and the fight before her, mimicking Argent in making sure no one was going to get killed.
So her life continued for the anniversary of one year, and the second. She came to know the Tsviets very well. Weiss was quiet, stoic, a phenomenal leader with a close tie to his brother. Nero was similarly quiet, often tormented by his own mind and self, curious and intelligent, and somewhat shy, though she wasn't sure if that was natural or a result from his inability to catch on to certain social mores. She assumed it was the way he had been raised. Argent had pulled her aside one day and informed her Nero had largely been left alone as a child, with little human contact. The thought, so much later, still made her nose wrinkle. Argent herself was fiercely devoted to Weiss, and she suspected the same level of regard on his part, though they never showed it. Argent had a mechanical aptitude evidenced by her presence in the medical wing every now and then, and a skill with a sword that was very near unparalleled. Azul still never addressed her outright, even when she had to tend to an injury. He preferred to assume she was not there, and she wondered if this was because he had been through too much and been torn away from all that was familiar at an older age than any of the others. Rosso was more friendly, occasionally pouting when something went wrong, and possessed of a fierce desire to go outside. She had gotten so far as to create a plan to smuggle the woman outside when she realized, on a physical reconnaissance trip, that they could never get past the security. So she settled with bringing her more nail polish every few months and listening to the red-haired woman when she wanted to talk about which man she had recently conquered in her version of romance. The men never made it out alive, but she listened anyway, no matter how leery the conversation made her, as she believed that if Rosso wished to talk about it, then she needed to. Shelke was mostly silent, occasionally following her about in her Transparent form in order to catch a glimpse of something she and the other Tsviets were not supposed to know about. She assumed this was on Weiss' orders, but she never asked. She simply pretended that the small woman, for that was what she really nearly was, was not there at all, and she came to realize that this garnered her a warmer reception from Weiss, and Nero seemed more pleased with something, on the days she was shadowed by the clear-as-glass girl.
Sephiroth and the threat of Meteor had come, but she still went down to the labs, until one day, held up by the crowds of people panicking outside the Shinra building, she had reached the entrance to Deepground and realized she could not get in. Access was not denied; it was simply turned off. She had wandered about, half-intending on braving the labs and asking Professor Hojo when now-Commissioner Tuesti had come hurrying out a staircase and, recognizing her from a trip he had made to the labs over two years ago when she still worked there, ushered her out despite her protests that she had to get in to work. She was too well-trained to tell him where she needed to be, and he simply assumed she had meant the labs.
Now, three years of worrying that everyone she knew had died later, she was here again, still unable to get back and still keeping her secret. Only Emir knew why she had cried when they showed her the footage they had of the Tsviets, recognizing that Weiss had gone mad and the cybernetics project she had faithfully worked on for over two years had been finished and implanted into Nero's back. It hadn't been rated for that when she worked on it, and the conversion had to have been more painful than anything she could imagine. She had lost five days of sleep over that, agonizing over her blindness, not asking what she was working on. She wondered if he had known, and judging from the constant presence of Oblivion around him, she figured he hadn't. His control looked strained and he looked miserable. She suspected Argent knew, though, and that knowledge was the reason for her presence in the labs, observing the whole process.
She looked out over the conflict, and recognized the report of the cannon Azul favored as a hand-held weapon, and the glint and flash of Rosso's distinct aerial attack, and knew that Cloud Strife would have his hands full with her. But she didn't suspect that Rosso would stay with him for long. She would go after Vincent Valentine, like the upset child she was sometimes, and try to defeat him. She suspected she might die trying.
She didn't see any shadow of darkness that would suggest Nero's presence, so she assumed he was at the reactor with Weiss. Those two would never be separated for long. Weiss was too protective and Nero too loyal and wary to leave what was familiar too often. Argent she didn't see. She had heard that Deepground's facilities had been attacked, and wondered if Argent was dead or trapped inside.
Shelke...Shelke she was avoiding. She didn't know what to say to the young woman, if anything. When all was said and done, if Deepground was defeated - and she wasn't sure if they would be or not - then she might speak to her. For now, though, she would just stay here and watch, and wait and see what happened. She had been gone too long to be a part of their world anymore, no matter how much she wanted to have Azul ignore her, and give Rosso nail polish - she still bought a bottle every few months, they just sat on a shelf in her office - and not watch Shelke follow her around, and occasionally talk with Argent and Weiss, and answer all of Nero's questions. She wondered how he and Rosso had found the world above ground.