Reno was not thinking about what he was doing. The Turk scrambled through the debris of the Shin-Ra offices and reached the final staircase to the very top. He began ascending them like a cat, slinking past the fallen sections and avoiding the gaps in the walls or floor. He was scruffier than usual, covered in dust and grime, his dark blue suit ripped in several places. The Turk's face betrayed nothing, but the scratched and bleeding fingers occasionally trembled against one of the scars on his cheeks in a subconscious movement he did not have time for.
He had ordered Rude and Elena to wait on the ground floor, apparently because there was no sense in them all dying should the building decide to collapse. Neither had believed his words, but both had obeyed him. It was only right that Reno rescue the President; he was his chief bodyguard. They refused to acknowledge the idea that the President was dead and that Reno was about to die, too, but they had seized their skinny friend in awkward embraces before allowing him to leave. Rude had turned away shaking, and Elena had left an uncertain, terrified kiss on his jaw. The situation was past saving.
The sound of a dog whining reached Reno's sharp ears, and he veered off the stairs. After a short search in the dark his Mako-enhanced vision picked out the shuddering form of Dark Nation. It was a pitiful sight, all broken bones and sad eyes. Reno thought it despicable irony that the animal had remained with its master while he had not. While he had not been there in the time of greatest need, of greatest meaning. He put a bullet in Dark Nation's head and returned to the stairs.
The President's office was lit by eight searchlights from the Mako reactors, along with moonlight in the absence of the ceiling. Reno rushed to the centre of the carnage and looked around wildly. There was little left of the walls, and the city stretched out, a mirage of flickering lights, on every side. Glass crunched beneath his shoes, cold air brushed against his fiery hair, and the charred remains of the greatest room in Midgar mocked him. Reno turned to face the Southern wall.
A beastly cry ripped its way out of his throat, to echo across the city unending. Tears sprang into his eyes, and the Turk fell to his knees. Rufus Shinra hung above his Metropolis, impaled by two iron girders, lifeless and beautiful face turned towards the stars. The breeze pushed at his bloody body, and his white trenchcoat fluttered behind him like a banner. A white flag of surrender across the capital.