A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to review for me, it really is encouraging. That would be: OvenBased, whatevergirl, NicotineGum, BeeJang, Chicken Nova, kiralover44, Dame Nosferatu, tokidokilove, Valitiel, Nalie, Risikaa, CaseyAnn'sPrecious, minoki, and CornCob! Nope, Nalie, I'm sorry poor woman doesn't get a name XD Poor woman #1? She is the ONLY woman in this story, I'm almost sure. No joke.
Not many people were pulled from the fire. Even fewer were found alive. SOLDIERs emerged black-faced, particularly the Firsts who had not even taken the time to cover their mouths with flimsy material masks as some of the later arrived had.
Vincent sighed. Cloud was beside him, shivering, blue eyes seeming to be permanently filled with tears. He knew the guard probably looked similar to how he had looked when he had been on the training mission that had gone so wrong. The blonde probably felt conflicted, going over in his head the reasons he had chosen to be a soldier, and regretting it. The Third knew he himself had.
He couldn't think about his father. He felt like he was shut off, like the emotional part of him had been torn out thoughtlessly, leaving a hollow, terrible space within. But it was good for the time being; he had taken too much at once and he needed the reprieve. He could think about his dad later. He could think about how Hojo deserved to die endlessly, again and again, later.
Wondering briefly if it was how Sephiroth felt all of the time, so cut off toward everything, he stared back at what he could see of the towering Shinra building.
Where was Sephiroth?
Cloud hiccuped, shaking his head miserably as they watched a very angry red and black corpse being carried out of a doorway. They were a ways away, but they could visibly see the human shape to the almost unrecognizable remains.
"Are you okay?" Vincent enquired softly.
He put a hand on a scrawny shoulder, giving a very tight-lipped smile. When the blonde only stared up at him, he felt quite bad. Even though he wasn't in his normal state, he felt enough to want to help the poor kid.
Still, the guard didn't answer. Vincent wrapped an arm around him in a soothing gesture. He only glared hatefully at a few of the Seconds who gave him a strange look. He rubbed at the blonde's shoulder, frowning. Apparently they weren't supposed to comfort each other.
He couldn't help but think that the only person suited to SOLDIER was Sephiroth; he seemed to be the only one who could take brutality and violence without breaking down. Then again, life had probably prepared him, hadn't it?
Jade.
He exhaled loudly, closing his eyes for an instant. Even thinking about it infuriated him. He thought of Hojo killing his father slowly for some reason didn't compare to the bizarre ache in his chest when he thought about the few things Sephiroth had said about it all. It was just...sick. He knew he should be mad with his mentor; Hojo had lived because of him. If the scientist had died before, maybe he never would have lost his father—that was something his mind repeatedly told him, one of the reasons it had taken so long to fall to sleep. But why, every time he looked at it all logically, did he keep having an overwhelming need to forgive Sephiroth anyway? It almost felt wrong to be angry at him. But why?
He pushed the thought as far aside as he could, letting his gaze wander; he didn't want to think about it. In fact, the clammy feeling to his palms made him uncomfortable, strange even. No, he wouldn't think about it.
His eyes automatically went back to the buildings where that wolf-like creature had been, as he finally pulled himself from his internal monologue. He could make out its shape laying on the pavement, dead. He thought he could see the woman too. Was anyone else in the building? Had it killed anyone else?
That Second from earlier was watching them. He didn't say anything, made no acknowledgment of the crying either. Almost acted as if they weren't there. Some of the other Thirds were very rattled as well, but no one stepped forward to say anything to them. Instead, Vincent just tried to give them a look of reassurance that he himself didn't feel.
Vincent's eyes darted back to the buildings after a moment, the paranoia curling in his gut, taking over his senses. Chaos bristled in warning.
He had wanted to do a check of the entire perimeter, each building, but their orders had been to stand outside of the Labs as back up and to not stray unless there was an all-out attack. But he felt it was incredibly stupid to leave all of those buildings unchecked. Something was going on, but he was obeying orders, trying not to toss them aside like he seemed prone to at times. He wasn't even supposed to be with Cloud, he was supposed to be with his own squad.
It didn't matter. Sephiroth had even said that it was okay to question what one was told, hadn't he? The Third couldn't help but think this might be one of those times. All they were doing was standing around anyway, keeping watch. It was just a job given to them so that they would be around if something did happen. What if there were more of those creatures? Cloud had said he had seen more than one....
He tried to calm himself, keeping a firm hold on the guard, who didn't seem to be inclined to be let go of anyway. He used the blonde like an anchor. He had already disobeyed his mentor twice, and he had the feeling doing anything else stupid that endangered his life wouldn't be something the man agreed with. Part of him still wanted that approval, even if it went against what he told himself.
Sephiroth had said 'don't play hero', which was exactly what he had done. The man, as always, knew him better than he knew himself.
Genesis was pacing like a caged animal, blue eyes never leaving the filthy floor. He had been going for what seemed like hours, the Commander only watching him sadly.
There was no comforting Genesis. No matter what he said, the redhead would only cut at him bitingly with words, chiding him for, as the First had said, 'not being realistic'. It seemed his friend was above taking any words of solace, or as the Commander saw it, too ashamed to ever admit to wanting or needing such things.
It was, after all, pride. It was what Angeal knew had started his friends' feud. They both were so consumed by standing alone, by being the best, that their obsession with it overclouded nearly everything in their lives. The irony of it all, was that he had always thought that Genesis and Sephiroth were so incredibly alike when it came to what drove them, what they pursued. They both strived for perfection, though in different ways. He had always felt apart from them in that way, but had learned over the years that it was good that they had common ground. Their friendship had been incredibly strong, and he had been grateful for it.
But that was the past. Genesis only had loathing in his eyes when he said the name Sephiroth; there was none of that bond that had been there before, so vivid. They were all drifting apart. He did not like it, but it was something he could not ignore. Sephiroth no longer made time for them, not like it used to be, nor did Genesis. He could fondly recall times when they would all arrange their schedules so that they could train alongside one another or at least have time to talk, even if it was only a short hour out of an entire week. It had been something, at least, a conscious effort to maintain their complicated relationship.
He found himself spending more and more time with his student. And Sephiroth, he had been as surprised as anyone that he had taken on a student of his own. Vincent was strangely similar to the General, Angeal had seen it. They both had that iron determination, quiet, reserved personality.
Something had happened, he knew, back in Wutai. For some reason, Vincent had sealed himself unknowingly to Sephiroth, done something that had earned the man's respect. That was the way Sephiroth was; if he saw something admirable in someone he almost became another person, as he had with both of his friends.
Vincent, Angeal thought, would change Sephiroth, and it would be for the better. There was a hardened steel of a shell inside of the man, but it was not impenetrable. If he could not be around to console Sephiroth, he knew that the Third would. That put him at ease to an extent. They were alike, which the man had clearly seen already, and that would ensure that he did not just push the Third aside as he so often did with others. No matter how fiercely independent Sephiroth was, he too did occasionally seek out other people for advice. Vincent could give that, he was confident of it.
But it was also concerning. Vincent was young, Sephiroth was often more blunt and cut off than anyone could ever become accustomed to. His exterior of coldness had already seeped into the boy, he had noticed. There were slight differences to the Third that had not been there before that he knew did not just have to do with the injury. Though the man would never intentionally hurt his student, Angeal knew all too well how insensitive his friend could be without even consciously realizing it. It would be something he would watch closely.
As for Genesis.... The Commander was more concerned for him than anyone else. If Gast didn't find some sort of cure, something to stop the degradation....
He hadn't even been able to voice it to Zack. He would soon, when the time came. But he had barely begun to accept it for himself. He needed to think about it more before he went and told his student. He knew the Second was probably sleeping at the Inn, bored out of his mind. He had seemed almost angry when the Commander had left. There was a lot of tension from all sides, Angeal had noticed.
There was a very loud sigh from the corner, where Gast was examining samples. The old man smoothed at his beard almost compulsively, before reaching for a chipped glass. He downed the amber liquid without preamble, hand visibly shaking. Veins stood out beneath the weathered flesh.
There was a whisper, so quiet Angeal strained to hear it. The First was too distracted to listen.
"What have I done?"
Gast was staring at the emptied glass, shoulders slumped, almost as though in defeat. A bead of amber glistened on the rim, sliding down the glass and landing on the tabletop. The scientist watched it with a pained expression, finally turning to look over at Angeal.
There was something in his eyes that made the Commander's expression become visibly worried. The lines of the old face were drawn underneath the beard, starker.
"What is it?" Angeal questioned, after a considerable wait.
Genesis had ceased his obsessive pacing, scowling as he watched the scientist. His gaze shifted between the two men for a moment, but eventually settled on the empty glass.
"I have some...not so encouraging news, I'm afraid."
"Just get on with it," the redhead ground out irritably, lips pulled over his white teeth; the human equivalent of a wolf's snarl.
Angeal only gave his friend a hard look. "Let's hear it."
Gast shook his head, his voice coming out low. "I couldn't figure out why it was that your cells..." he was directing his words at the Commander, "...weren't having any positive influence. I assumed that I could do this like a transfusion, in essence, replace the corrupted cells with healthy ones. Maybe even use some of the genetic material to correct Genesis's abnormalities and even fix what he already has."
"Yes, you've said this," the First stated tonelessly, his countenance clearly suggesting he would prefer to be elsewhere.
"I couldn't understand...the donor cells...." Gast seemed at a loss for words, exhaling noisily. He seemed to steel himself for his next words: "Angeal, you're also degrading. Not as quickly as Genesis, but your cells are dying much more quickly than any healthy person."
There was an explosion of speech on the other side of the room. "What the hell do you mean?" Genesis hissed, stalking from his place in an instant. He was a flurry of red leather, posture stiff, as though he wished to lash out. He stopped not a foot from the scientist.
Angeal had said nothing. The First's eyes were burning into him, but he did not make any acknowledgment of it.
"I mean that you are both dying. The cells...they're corrupted, in both of you. I don't understand it. It makes no sense. Jenova had extreme healing capabilities during life...we ran so many tests on her genetic material. This does not hold up with the resear—"
Genesis had snatched the man up by the collar of his shirt, nearly freeing him of the chair beneath him. Blue eyes, though dull, held a fury beyond any the scientist had ever seen. He could discern the streaks of grey beginning to run through the red hair, four or five strands in each section. The skin was translucent almost, sickly pale.
Before either had realized it, Angeal's strong fingers had wrapped themselves around his friend's arm. He had come across the room faster than seemed possible. His expression was stern, determined.
"Let him go. Now." It was not a request, but an order. The strong jaw was a sharp line of twitching muscle as teeth were clenched together too tight.
Genesis made a 'hmph' noise, then dropped the older man with no warning whatsoever. Gast fell back into his chair with a crash, as the wheels propelled him into the desk from the force of his body weight.
"Suit yourself," the First sneered. "Seems like we have more in common than you thought, hey Angeal?" The smile changed to sickly sweet.
Like ghosts, they drifted through the shadows. Swaying, gnashing teeth in the darkness, bickering amongst themselves with sharp nips and furious, rolling eyes. More kept coming, emerging from the backs of four large, covered trucks that had arrived at the base only hours before. The creatures were all swift paws and bristled fur.
They could smell their dead compatriot, and wandered toward the area warily. Some had seen the commotion from afar, but not made their presence known, for the most part. A few went a little closer than others, almost letting the light catch on their forms. But it had been ingrained in them to wait before striking. They followed a leader, and no other. Even the roiling in their bellies that hungered could not overpower their urge to obey. Even the blood of the dead human couldn't be lapped at, couldn't be carefully cleaned from the pavement with eager tongues. They had to be patient.
Fenris still had not come. They started to get restless, and could see the SOLDIERs who kept nervously glancing in their direction. But their fur was black as night; they were different than the older one, the one that had been too quick to yield to its murderous desires and died for it. It had been one of the last, the flawed kind. Too compulsive, too unpredictable still. Imperfect.
They were moving toward the light again, when a loud sound ricocheted through the crowd of buildings, sending the wolf-like creatures scattering in confusion. One let out a yowl of surprise, from the noise, much to the others' annoyance.
It didn't take long before, much like a hive, they congregated together, sensing that they had been discovered. There were snarls of dominance from a few amongst them, as they all decided as a cohesive unit to face their attackers. Fenris was taking too long and they wanted blood. They wanted it badly.
There was another deafening sound, some cowering at it. It was the yelp of pain, however, that caused all of their number to hackle instinctively. Blood. One of them was dying; they could hear its writhing on the asphalt, the quick, panicked breaths of approaching death. Mortal wound.
Vincent had been sure he had seen one. The movement from the first shot he had let off, and finally, the dog-like sound of agony when he had miraculously struck his mark with the second, was enough to convince the SOLDIERs who hadn't seen anything, that there was in fact something running through the darkness in the distance.
Like shadows, the beasts approached them, deep, guttural sounds coming from their throats, lolling tongues far from comical. They seemed to come from nowhere, more and more emerging from around the buildings and advancing toward the ones who had hurt them.
Cloud had pulled his sword, and so had all the others, all ready to dispatch the creatures. The blonde still had some tears on his face, but became more calmed with a blade in his company.
Vincent fired at the animals without mercy immediately, finding that his aim was very true. He hit one in the chest, another in the head, causing it to slump to the ground immediately, high caliber round blowing a substantial hole through its skull and sending tissue splattering.
When the wolf-like creatures were close enough, the more bolder Seconds immediately began to attack them freely. They were blurs of black fur, so fast they were difficult to keep up with, even for mako-enhanced SOLDIERs. The Thirds were mostly intimidated, but didn't back down when the monsters approached them with vicious, gleaming teeth. There was not much of a choice in such a dilemma.
The things just seemed to keep coming, surrounding them. There were howls of agony as steel sliced through flesh. Vincent kept shooting, eventually having to back off and reload, getting behind some of the Seconds who were fending the things off fairly well with just swords.
The scent of smoke was thick in the air, along with the metallic smell of blood, as Cloud swung at one, blade smacking into skull. There was a primal scream, which caused the guard to balk, looking almost horrified as he dragged his sword back, the silver painted with flecks of crimson. But the Third had finished, and ended the noisy beast for him with a shot to the head. The blonde looked over instantly, breathing heavily, eyes wide.
"Kill or be killed," Vincent stated somewhat darkly. The frightened expression Cloud gave him made him regret it. His eyes softened. "It will be alright; you'll get used to it, even if it doesn't seem like you can," he added more gently.
It didn't take long before all the monsters were dispatched. Vincent noticed immediately that some of the Firsts had joined them, sending monsters sprawling with bone-crushing strikes. It was easy to pick out their calm skill amongst the frenzy of rushed attacks made by both Seconds and Thirds. Experience was key, apparently.
When he looked back at the fire, he could just make out the arc of water being sprayed down over the smoking wreckage. That explained why the smoke smell had gotten so much stronger. They must have gotten everyone that they could get out, he realized. There hadn't been many....
Cloud was standing off to the side, obviously troubled. He still had his sword in his hand, and was staring down at the red that was rolling down it in a shaky trail. A lot of the other Thirds and guards seemed to be having a similar reaction, most looking a little dazed, though not as emotional as the blonde.
SOLDIER was synonymous with the loss of innocence, Vincent decided.
A/N: I have no desire to write. Honestly, I forced out every word of this, but I got it done. So if you're wondering why my updates are tapering off into nothingness...heh. I will proceed anyway, muse fairies be damned!
