With the mask in the way, the Restrictor's expression was unreadable. With the cloak thing draped over him, his body language was equally hard to discern, though you could say at least that there was no visible change. Kunsel wasn't sure that was reassuring.

The look in Zack's eyes definitely wasn't reassuring. Because Zack? Zack didn't green. Some SOLDIERs did - greening was considered a fairly natural thing; when your adrenaline spiked enough, or you got into a heightened emotional state, the mako enhancements would react and create a green ring around the outside of the iris, which of course was where the name came from. There was probably an official term for it but hell if anyone had bothered to say where Kunsel could hear, and greening was simple enough to explain even to the newest cadets.

Like anything dealing with the… interesting biology that was SOLDIER, there was a sliding scale of who did it more than others. Some people had predispositions, either because of their mako levels or their personality. But Zack had never really been one to. Maybe he had once or twice, but the instances were few and far between, and usually just a tinting. This though? This was a full on solid green ring, mako green against brilliant blue eyes. Zack was greening.

And Zack was greening because he was absolutely furious about all this. Which was, pun unintended, fair enough. But by the time Zack was ready to bust heads you knew the situation was serious.

His gaze drifted back down to the group below them, and he held back a shudder. There was so much wrong with this picture. Not just Nero's straitjacket and muzzle, either. No, it was something else. Something deeper, ingrained into these kids. Written into their very DNA.

It was how big Azul was, the oddly pointed ears and the literally glowing marks - tattoos? Gods he hoped those were tattoos - on his face. It was in how young Shelke looked, until you looked into her eyes, and how something… something wasn't quite right there, even at this distance, it was the look of an adult. A calculating adult. And speaking of calculating, Rosso. She was worth an invocation or two herself just for the way she'd looked at them. Because he hadn't missed the pattern her eyes moved in. Sephiroth had done that when assessing enemies - a quick 'are the weak spots that should be there on a human actually there on this human' assessment that he really felt was not merited at this point. Was that as reflexive as it looked, or was she hoping for something else? He was almost afraid to ask.

Yet all that was nothing - nothing - next to Nero and Weiss.

Surprisingly, the straitjacket and muzzle weren't what unnerved Kunsel there. It wasn't great, sure. In fact if he let himself think about it, it was absolutely horrifying. (He wasn't letting himself think about it.) But no, it was the whole… feeling. Kunsel wasn't the magic powerhouse Benji was or Genesis had been, nowhere near, but enhanced senses came with some weird stuff even on the ground floor and he was a step or two above that.

And those senses were saying something was very wrong here.

Nero was alive. Realistically, he had to be alive, because he was standing there blinking up at them and he'd stepped forward when he'd been introduced. But he didn't feel alive. In fact, he didn't feel anything. Kunsel knew, staring at him, how it felt to stare into the void and have the void stare back at you.

Freaking unreal.

He could feel goosebumps on his arms, and the hair raise on the back of his neck. Something was very wrong here, he just… he felt wrong, and he knew someone like Benji could articulate it but all he could figure it was whatever had done his enhancements. That 'dark mako' - whatever the hell that was, clearly he was going to have to do some digging when they got back - made him feel like… nothing. But not quite nothing, because there was something there, cold and slick and hard to grasp. Uncomfortable.

He looked away, and ended up looking at Weiss, and wondered, briefly if Hojo just had a thing for pale haired powerhouses or if that was a coincidence. Because he radiated power, in a way that was definitely, distinctly reminiscent of Sephiroth. Which had to be all kinds of nope for Zack, definitely not helping the situation in the slightest.

He wasn't like Nero. Nero was a void. Nero was staring into a black hole and getting the sinking feeling that you were about to fall in and never come out. Weiss… Weiss was staring into the heart of a star about to go supernova and wondering if you had time to get out of the way. He didn't quite look "unhinged" so much as he looked like he'd been restrained so long, been pulling at those chains so long, that the moment they were broken there would be unstoppable forward momentum and he'd be too relieved to care much about who he mowed down in the process.

Kunsel looked away again, before he could meet Weiss' eyes. He wasn't ready for that, he knew that instinctively. Besides… someone had to keep an eye on Zack, who was still looking a little off himself. Anger could do things to your senses, and to your common sense, and he was so far past "angry" that Kunsel really had no idea where he'd landed. 'Earn it my way'? What did that even mean?

The Restrictor apparently had a similar thought. His voice was even, almost bland, but perhaps just a touch curious. "And how does one earn being SOLDIER? What tests will you put them through?"

Zack's smile gained a sharp edge. "Buddy, I never said I was talking about them. Where I'm from, leaders worth the name lead by example."

There was a beat of incredulous silence. "…you challenge my leadership, General?"

Zack shrugged with that same smile. "I mean, my people follow me cause they like me."

"They follow you because you are in a place of authority," the Restrictor said. "They may happen to like you."

"Still a choice," Zack said. "I know what happens when SOLDIERs decide they're done."

Kunsel tensed, ready to reach out and put a hand on Zack's shoulder again, but waiting. Watching. Maybe praying, a little, to whoever listened to SOLDIERs. If someone still listened to SOLDIERs.

The Restrictor was silent, apparently just staring at him, nonplussed, and Zack continued with forced lightness. "I also know what happens down here if somebody tried that. And let me tell you, my friend, that's not gonna fly much longer."

"And what do you intend to do about that?" he asked.

"Depends how much you'll cooperate," Zack said, shrugging. "I'm not looking for a fight. But I'm ready to bring it if that's what I have to do to make things right."

"Fair…" Veld said softly.

"I am the General of SOLDIER," Zack said firmly, never taking his eyes off the Restrictor, let alone acknowledging Veld's warning. "Deepground is a part of that, right?"

"Technically, Deepground is under my jurisdiction," Heidegger said.

"Fucking fantastic job there," Zack said, and Kunsel had the brief, inane thought that Benji would be so proud.

His next thought was a very loud Zack no, but alas their bond was not telepathic.

"I'll be taking that over then, since you've screwed over hundreds of people with sheer incompetence," Zack said. He looked to the side when Heidegger took a breath to argue, mako eyes bright and dangerously closer to a greeny-teal than their usual cheery blue.

For a long moment, no one said anything. Kunsel didn't dare look away from Zack, though he did gently place a hand on his back, trying to ground him in the midst of his fury. He got it, of course he did. He was angry too. But not like that. Zack was… Zack was on the road to places Kunsel didn't want to see him go. Dangerous places where Bad Things Happened even at the hands of good people.

And the worst part is he wasn't sure why. Not 'why he was angry at all,' that part made sense, but this… this wasn't like him. It felt wrong, on an instinctive level Kunsel couldn't explain. It just wasn't Zack. Zack didn't do this kind of anger, not this fast.

Zack's gaze had drifted back to the Restrictor, and Kunsel had a prickly feeling of foreboding. That sense of wrong heightened almost painfully, jangling against his senses in a message he couldn't make out beyond warning! danger! which was painfully obvious.

"Zack?" He tried again, reaching out and touching his arm, muscle so tight it had to be painful. "Hey, let's just… finish the tour. We can worry about the details later, alright?"

Zack made a low, displeased sound, but he nodded assent and that was the important part. "We're talking about this later, Director."

Heidegger forced a tense smile and inclined his head, waving towards the Restrictor. "Shall we continue, then?"

"Let's."