Compulsions of Fate
What really happened after Meteor's impact? Was the world finally retrieved from darkness' clutches, and was peace finally rising over the lands? Or was the horror of Meteor just the beginning...
Prologue: Inside Looking Out
It was a dark, silent night. There was no reason to be cheerful. Annoyances infuriated him, they always did. But something was different. Yes, it was different now. They had captured them, and showed they were to be feared. Greater than Shinra? Maybe. They were more powerful, and their influence was spreading. A new growth of anti-civility was growing, a more blatant organization that felt no grievances of making public torture and intimidation. Yes, it was much unlike Shinra, and it threatened to take over the world.
Reno leaned back against the wall. He stared out the bars in his window, blocking him from the silent night. Since "they" had come into power, no one was safe. No one dared even speak its rightful name-DEATH-because of the grim irony, however intentional, of it's acronym. The Direct Empire of Ancient Terroristic Hell was blatantly fearful, unlike Shinra, who hid behind a well-constructed web of untruths. DEATH, however, reveled in their imminent power, seemingly invincible behind their headquarters, a giant fortress of iron referred to as "Skull Wastes" by members of DEATH.
The construction of the fortress, which began almost directly after the fall of Meteor, took a short 3 years to built, and it became a permanent landmark of the wastes east of Midgar. Few knew the true purpose of the structure, and even less dared to suggest it was being built for the purpose of reviving fear. Even then, the supporters outweighed the opposition, as most agreed that Midgar would be able to profit greatly by selling their borderlands to an as-of-yet unknown but very wealthy group.
Over the three years of its construction, Midgar, now under a less-scandalous but just as overbearing government, was rebuilt. The new government, the Board of Directors, implemented the Policy of Construction, which allowed them to construct housing and commercial facilities on top of the Plate. Slowly but surely, many rich people began to move onto the Upper Plate, after gaining money in one way or another. Most of the upper Plate inhabitants were rich Wall Market business men or rich shop owners from Sectors 2 and 3, though rich gamblers or thieves sometimes moved safely onto the Plate. For many, it was to escape the growing corruption of the Midgar slums. In the seedy areas, there was an increasing number of murders and terrorist acts, despite the fact that AVALANCHE had reformed and became Planet protectors. Most of the violent acts were committed by a group calling themselves the Ten Violent Men. Rumors generally pegged them as disgruntled ex-Shinra members, or criminals going on a mad rampage. Some blamed the Board of Directors for setting up mass killings to induce migration to the upper Plate. But noone could imagine a motive for the heinous killings, and the Board of Directors seemed to carefully dance around the subject. But the general consensus around Midgar was that they had to be stopped, and that the Board of Directors was watching as innocent people were slaughtered.
- - -
"Reno."
Reno stared up from looking at the floor. He, as well as the rest of the surviving Turks, Rude and Elena, were placed in a containment cell in a high-security wing of Skull Wastes. They shared the cells with other ex-Shinra members that had been found. DEATH, Reno noted sourly, had no respect for Shinra at all. There had been executions recently, executions of ex-Shinra members that were anti-DEATH. If any prisoners gave any of the cell guards trouble, they would be tortured and murders, and all inmates were force to watch. It was a harsh reality of being a prisoner of what looked like would be the beginning of an anti-empirical war. Reno knew DEATH was smart. They knew that Shinra would not be disbanded because of the loss of their Headquarters. There were many high-ranking Shinra generals left, even if that bastard Rufus was dead. More than likely, though both Reno and DEATH, Shinra was going to quickly establish a command headquarters somewhere in Wutai, a Shinra-controlled nation. DEATH would obviously not tolerate any threats to their authority, whether or not it was far away from Skull Wastes.
"Yeah, what is it?" Reno replied. He brushed his red bangs out of his eyes nonchalantly.
"They said we can eat. I don't know about you, but I'm starving." The messenger was Rude, a long-time friend and partner of Reno. They had gone back a while, long before they even officially became Turks. They had met during the "interview" process.
Becoming a Turk was a test of physical and mental endurance. To become a Turk, one must become completely focused, caring only about objectives. Indeed, once one became a Turk, their outlook on life and their goals changes completely. The jobs they did were not exactly the most friendly and on-the-level jobs there were. It would only make sense that their training would be merciless. And imposing. Being in containment wasn't so bad, Reno thought. It toughens you up.
"Alright, I'll be right with you. What are they givin' us today? Stale bread?"
Rude nodded, and scratched his bald head. He had shaved it long ago, at the request of Tseng, formerly the leader of the Turks. Tseng had commented that his hair made his head look like a pathetic wimp. Rude, never one to have his strength of presence downgraded, promptly shaved his head.
"I don't know what they want from us..." said Reno. He paused for emphasis, "...but I won't give it to them. Those damn stupid sons of bitches want nothing but to plunder Midgar for everything. But this time, it's not us."
"Kind of ironic that way," replied Rude, who sat on the gray bench beside Reno. Their room was a small cell that opened out into a common room where things occasionally took place between inmates. "You know, I'm not in the mood for that damn bread. I've had it too much."
Reno nodded and laughed. "Me too. If only there were a way to escape. Or will we be trapped here forever?"
"I don't really care. If all fails, I'll keep myself alive for eternity with stale bread, and entertain myself by raping a bitch from down the hall."
"Yeah, but Rude...I want to see daylight again. You can't see nothin' from here, and I'm losing hope again."
Rude sighed. "Are you still a rookie? You were the one that told me Turks don't got hope. Suck it up. It doesn't matter anymore." Rude turned around and began to leave. "Maybe a torture session will start soon."
"Whoopie!" muttered Reno sarcastically. Rude quickly walked out. After he left, Reno fingered around in his suit. He knew he had it somewhere, he knew the bastards never searched him...Finally, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out what he was looking for: his knife. Blade in hand, he slowly walked toward the common room, covering the knife with his suit as he walked.