"Four Tsviets have been located," Veld reported through the SOLDIER's headsets as they descended into the Slums. Updates had been pushed to their phones, but it was unnecessary; each Tsviet stood out like a sore thumb to their new senses. "Unfortunately, not all of the ones we initially planned to deal with. Lower Sectors 4 through 7 have been compromised. Shelke is in 4; Weiss is in 5; Rosso is in 6; Azul is in 7. Proceed with caution, they may have civilian hostages."

After a beat, Kunsel keyed his mic. "No Nero?"

"No eyes on him, and no trail yet. Rhapsodos has agreed to help scout him out with Valentine," Veld said. "As you find and subdue the Tsviets, radio in. Aerith will be escorted to each location to purify them before they're taken into custody."

"And if they can't be subdued?" Benji asked, because he'd heard enough to be wary.

"Do what you have to do," Veld said grimly.

They were SOLDIERs. They understood.

"They have to know we're coming," Benji said.

"Yeah, stealth is not the priority here," Zack said, which was good because he really kinda sucked at stealth, and they all knew it.

"You could probably outshine Kunsel, though," Drew pointed out. "Charge up a materia when you go in, a Wall or something, and keep it up until you've engaged him, minimum. It should draw attention away from Kunsel and give him some freedom to move without being easily detected."

"Good point, I'll do that," Zack agreed, squeezing Kunsel's hand. "You're my ace."

"Every time, babe," Kunsel said quietly, squeezing back. Even with their gloves in the way, the strength of Zack's grip was reassuring, never so tight as to hurt, but enough to give the illusion of safety.

They'd make it through this alright, so long as they stuck together.

They were all hurrying, because no one wanted a Tsviet loose, especially around people, knowing that they wouldn't care in the slightest who they cut down - might, in fact, be all too eager to kill for several twisted reasons, not the least of which was Jenova's siren call.

The monster had pulled in Sephiroth, one of the most self controlled, confident people that any of them had known. She'd found some crack in the armor, slithered in, and wrecked him.

What could she do with literal children practically handed over to her for molding? Possibly from day one, in an environment that encouraged that sort of vicious behavior?

Yeah, no. This was going to be ugly. There was no way around it.

Every lower sector had wide swaths of residential area, in no small part because the original foundation had been individual villages clustered together, and they kept a great deal of the same format. The plates above that had been laid out with much more order and deliberation for a cohesive whole. The residential areas had moved away from the center column, for the most part, which was good - no one had said it, but they were all praying they could find their marks before they reached that point.

But the Tsviets had the advantage; they'd gotten there first. They'd had time to scope out the lay of the land, and as the SOLDIERs approached they had time to choose their battlegrounds for a battle where the slightest advantage could be the difference between life and death.

Drew wasn't sure what he'd expected from Azul, but he'd sort of thought in a general way that all the Tsviets would be heading for people - to do the most damage as possible, not just in terms of property, but in life.

But no. He tracked the crackling, electric energy in Sector 7 all the way to the Train Graveyard. Which, on the one hand, he was grateful for - casualties were bound to be lower, maybe even nil. Hostages were almost entirely out of the question. On the other hand, he was confused and wary because why would you choose that? Why would anyone choose that? Nero, maybe, he could see, with all the shadows. Or Shelke, with all the hiding spots and places to mount a sneak attack.

Azul wasn't about sneak attacks. He was a behemoth of a man, to hear Zack talk, and carried a cannon. This was not a man who gave a damn about stealth. This was not a man who hid or sneaked.

So what was going on here? His gut said it wasn't stupidity, or even bad planning. No, there was some strategy going on, he just couldn't see it.

Which meant he couldn't defend from it, and oh, that made him uneasy. That was all kinds of not good.

Drew made no attempt to hide; Azul had to sense where he was, and it was better to make himself a target than risk him going off to pick up a more vulnerable one, for several reasons - not the least of which the fact that he didn't want a hostage situation. There was no winning in a hostage situation with someone who could outmuscle him and had no moral compass.

Azul found him first. "SOLDIER!"

Drew spun on his heel, blade drawn and glowing eyes narrowed as they scanned the area he could feel Azul's energy in. "Azul."

"So, you really came." The massive Tsviet emerged from between two rickety, rusted engines, a cannon dangling like a toy from one big hand. "Alone. You are either very confident, or very stupid. Perhaps both."

"I've never been one to shy from taking risks, when I need to," Drew said, gloved hand tightening on the hilt of his katana. He'd always favored them for speed, and he was going to need that now more than ever.

"Hah. Very bold. I can respect that," Azul said. "Let's make this quick, shall we?"

Drew offered an edged smile to Azul's equally sharp one. "Go on, then."

"So cocky," Azul said. "Let's see what you can do with that toothpick." He swung his cannon around so it was held in both hands and grinned ferally, unnaturally sharp teeth on display. "If you can get close enough."

Drew laughed, sharp and mirthless, and felt the rush of adrenaline. This was going to be a fight for the record books. His advantages were speed, and the fact that a cannon couldn't fire as fast as say, an automatic gun. It could also only fire in a straight line, which meant he could probably dodge, if the blast radius wasn't too wide.

So many variables. Thankfully, he was good at math.

Azul pointed to fire, the cannon glowing bright before it released a massive, powerful blast - one that Drew was able to get out of the way of, as predicted. It flew in a straight line, and wasn't so fast the First couldn't process and get out of the way in time.

Then he gripped something on the side and pulled, and suddenly it wasn't just a cannon, it was firing like a machine gun.

New problem indeed, because he was able to swing it around, following Drew as he zigzagged around the veritable obstacle course presented by the train cars. He was light on his feet, but his footsteps rang out on the metal, giving away his location even when he wasn't visible.

Azul had chosen very wisely. This was going to be a problem.

All he could do was keep moving, capitalizing on his speed to get the hell out of the way, always one step ahead but never enough steps ahead to make the kind of progress he desperately needed.

New plan.

A reckless one worthy of Benji - in fact, very much a 'what would Benji do?' moment - but sometimes you had to be a little reckless.

Okay, maybe a lot reckless.

Because they were surrounded by a massive amount of rusting metal - in fact Azul had his back against a train car, making him far harder to approach from behind in any sort of physical assault. But Drew was a SOLDIER, and had more in his arsenal than just swords.

Blue eyes scanned the area, assessing as he balanced a moment behind a heavy engine, letting it absorb the rapid fire a moment. But only a moment, because if he thought about this too long he was going to talk himself out of it. And really, this was his best bet to shake things up.

Drew eyed the hilt of his katana - wider than average, big enough to accommodate two materia, in addition to the ones embedded into his bracer. Materia placement, both Benji and Genesis had drilled into his head, was vital for anyone who didn't have their innate level of insane skill with magic. Which was why he had paid extra for linked slots in his hilt. And lucky day, he had a magic materia paired with one very specific support materia.

Taking a deep breath, he crouched a moment, then launched himself into the air, sword drawn as he pulled on the magic materia under his hand. Azul was ready to strike again, but hesitated one vital beat as lightning crackled around the blade. He could almost see the denial in his eyes, disbelief that a SOLDIER would be so reckless. Whatever he'd been expecting, whatever he'd been told by his superiors, this wasn't it.

Drew felt the Elemental support materia trigger, and suddenly the lightning was drawn irresistibly to his blade, practically making it glow as he started to descend. Not straight, though, he twisted to the side and swung his blade like a baseball bat.

Charged metal met the metal train car, and a Thundaga's worth of lightning blew out the windows as it spread. Heat washed over him from the proximity, blond hair fluffing up from the static - his blade channeled it all away from him, but that close you couldn't help but feel the blow back.

Somehow, miracle of miracles, Azul didn't figure out what he was actually aiming for until the charge had jumped from car to car - magnified by the metal - into the one he was standing by. Gold eyes wide with understanding, he dove away from the electrified surface, but he completely forgot the giant metal cannon he was holding.

The charge jumped again, and he howled at the shock rushing through him.

That was all the opening Drew needed to make a desperate dive at him. Closing the distance at last, his speed finally came into play with a flurry of strikes. And while there was some backlash from the current running through Azul shooting up into his blade, he'd grown up fighting Benji, who was as lightning-happy as Genesis had been for fire. He could have (and had) taken a Thundara to the chest and not dropped his sword at this point, so when he struck, despite the pain of the charge, he followed through.

A meaty fist barreled into his gut, though, and it drove the air out of him, flinging him away as he coughed and gagged a little.

Strangely, the cannon fire he'd been expecting never came.

Panting, Drew hauled himself upright, blinking blearily. He was fairly sure something had cracked with that single hit, which didn't bode well, but was immediately distracted from assessing his injury by a flickering red glow around Azul. Was it some weird corruption of a limit break? Some alternative brought on by his unique enhancement process?

Azul gave him a hazy, bloodthirsty smile. "I didn't expect such a fight from you, little SOLDIER. But now, you see the true power of Azul the Cerulean!"

And he began to change.