"There's nothing you can do?" Sephiroth asked, voice quiet with shock.
Aerith started to shake her head, then shrugged, "I can try the process I use for geostigma. It might slow the degradation, but that's the best I can do. I can't change DNA."
If the trip to the slums had been awkward, the trip back was twice as bad. The tension between Angeal and Genesis had evaporated, leaving behind something much worse. Sephiroth no longer tried to break the silence, far too lost in his own thoughts.
Aerith had attempted the procedure for geostigma and then used cure on Genesis afterward. The bruising and inflammation around the injury on Genesis' arm had faded, but the original cut made by the lightning remained. Aerith's words, combined with the Firsts' own observations, painted a very clear picture; Genesis didn't have long to live and there was nothing that could be done.
"Can Hollander...?" Angeal started, desperate.
Genesis cut him off, "Who do you think messed me up in the first place? If the science department knew what they were doing, I wouldn't be having this problem," he hissed. Angeal fell silent again, but didn't look particularly offended by the outburst. If anything, he only looked more determined.
When they reached Shinra, they were no closer to a solution than before. By unspoken consensus, they went to Genesis' apartment. Once there, Sephiroth opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say, but desperate to say something. Once again, Genesis cut in before he could start, "No, leave that alone for now, we have bigger concerns," he huffed impatiently.
"Bigger concerns?" Angeal interjected, "What could be more important than this?"
"Shinra. Sephiroth, what if your student is like me? What if his very DNA was altered? Are we going to let this continue?"
"What are you suggesting?" Sephiroth said sharply, almost in reprimand.
Genesis ignored him, "I can't help thinking this body is that of a monster. Beings like me were not meant to exist. But if I am a monster, what does that make my creators? Are they not equally monstrous for knowingly creating me? I am dying, but I'm not dead yet. I can still fight, at least for the time being. It is my duty– as a Soldier, as a human– to protect others from the same fate."
"Are you... certain?" Angeal asked softly.
"Yes. ...Are you going to try and stop me?"
Sephiroth shared an inscrutable look with Angeal, "We are Soldiers... But we were humans first. We're with you," Sephiroth replied.
Genesis, for the first time in either of their memories, lowered his head in acknowledgment to the two of them, "My friends… Thank you."
They plotted and made plans well into the evening, huddled around Genesis' table. Genesis was impatient to start, claiming that he wanted to see the new Shinra before he died. Angeal, as always, played the voice of reason. Sephiroth stayed in the middle, anxious to start, but wary of failure. They would, after all, get only one chance.
Their objectives weren't as simple as Genesis had made them sound, in the end. The corruption in Shinra ran deep, but the public wasn't aware of it since the media was coincidentally also run by Shinra. The people wouldn't be on their side, but with any luck they wouldn't be against the Firsts either. The Turks on the other hand could pose a problem, as could the CEOs. They would have to work delicately, probably over a long period of time, but it was possible.
Genesis didn't have a long time. At very least, he was fairly certain he didn't have a long time. Besides, he wasn't really the diplomatic type. After Angeal and Sephiroth left to go eat and rest in their separate apartments, Genesis made his own plans. He knew what he needed to do, but first, there was someone he had to see.
The slums were as active as ever, despite the late hour. Brightly colored lights advertised shops and the cloying scent of perfume spilled out from doorways. The businesses were sketchier and there were fewer children, but other than that, the slums looked normal enough. That worked to Genesis' benefit; normal was good. Normal made strangers stand out all the more.
What followed could only be called a monumental waste of time. No one wanted to talk to Genesis about strangers they had seen. They were, however, happy to point him in the direction of a friend of theirs who might have seen something. Two hours later, after running back and forth completing small favors for a half dozen residents, all he had to show for his work was the vague hint that his 'friends' may have been spotted near the weapons shop.
The hint was more helpful than he had realized, as he discovered when he reached the weapons shop in Sector 7. There was practically nothing else there. There was the shop itself, which was a concrete tower of a building, with lights pouring from every doorway. Next to it was a small building that could've been a house (or maybe a storage shed). On the other side of the street was a boarded up western style bar, with another house beside it. Aside from the four somewhat pitiful buildings, Sector 7 looked very much like anywhere else in the slums, which is to say it looked like a strange jumble of scrap metal and concrete, with a dash of slowly rotting timber.
After checking the weapons shop itself, he headed to the bar across the street. The windows were boarded up and it looked completely abandoned– which was exactly where Genesis would have chosen to hide if he didn't want to be found. Although the door swung open easily, there weren't people on the other side of the door; the inside looked just as abandoned as the outside.
...With the exception of the soft red glow coming from the ancient arcade machine on the right wall. And, come to think of it, the light that seeped through the cracks around the machine's base. Genesis walked over and casually pressed the button on the top. With a jolt, the whole machine sank into the floor, taking Genesis with it. He had been expecting it, but that didn't mean he was ready for it. He wasn't ready for the sight that met him when he turned around either. There were weapons pointed at him. A lot of weapons. Held by hooded figures.
"Who are you?" a deep voice demanded. The owner of the voice was a man dressed in red who, by the looks of things, was pointing a shotgun at Genesis' head. There was a finger on the trigger and Genesis had a feeling that it wasn't a bluff.
He slowly raised his hands so they were both visible, "I'm looking for Cloud Strife," he stated calmly. Genesis was fairly sure he could dodge fast enough to keep the shotgun user from actually killing him, but he wasn't certain and it was the sort of situation where certainty was important.
"That's not an answer." The finger tightened on the trigger minutely.
"Genesis. I'm a friend of his."
"Genesis!" another voice to his left hissed, "Soldier First Class Genesis Rhapsodos. Shinra. Not Brother's friend." There was a blade pressing into Genesis' neck from the same direction and he didn't dare turn his head to look at the speaker.
"Stand down," the man with the shotgun ordered calmly. The blade pressed deeper for a second, then withdrew. Genesis still didn't take his eyes off the man in front of him. "What business do you have with Cloud?"
Genesis hesitated, then took a risk, "He knows things about Shinra, about us. I… I must know," he said truthfully.
The shotgun was lowered and the man behind it stepped back, "Cloud said you might come. He's not here, but you're welcome to wait," he said, motioning to a chair in the middle of the room. Once Genesis had stepped off the elevator platform, the man with the shotgun pressed the button and the platform, arcade game and all, rose back into the ceiling. The message was clear; he was welcome to wait, but leaving wasn't an option.
A/N: I hate this chapter. I rewrote it several times, but it just didn't work out for me. Arg, so frustrating. Anyway.
So remember when I said the whole deepground thing would be off-screen? I lied. Well, not really; I wasn't planning on this happening at all. I thought it might be a little awkward if the main character disappeared for too long though...