- - - -
Underneath the howling of violent, torrential winds, the street lights broke, leaving the terrified world in disconcerting darkness. Everything trembled as the hurricane force winds knocked against windows, doors, and storm shelters. Rain kicked open people who weren't prepared, invaded their homes, and soaked everything. Soon, nothing was sacred to the storm. Blue and white lightning cut open the night like a surgeon's knife, revealing only a dreamer's glimpse of the nightmare that ensued. Power lines toppled, trees broken and thrown aside, water crashing against stone and breaking them. And this was only inland, where the storm would have supposedly lost most of its strength. But the hurricane tumbled on, violent as ever, ignoring the laws of nature and barreling into Midgar with a ferocity that rivaled the strength of a high-level Summon materia.
In the hours that the storm would have begun to reach the mountains and finally dissipate, the eye-wall passing harmlessly over uninhabited land, underground was the ideal place to be. Even as water spiralled down emergency water-ways, dumping back into the ocean, even as waterfalls fell into the old slums were entirely flooded with water, there were places deeper still that no other man's feet had touched for decades.
Metal grates, cat-walks, rusted metal piping criss-crossed the underground water treatment facility. Further on was a water station, a squatty, cracked building which had lost much of its structure to explosion and earthquake and collapsed earth. Stone and metal crushed together. Even darker still were the remnants of people, whole skeletons in the dust, tattered cloth and time-bleached ShinRa insignias. Even perfectly preserved bodies, buried alive in the darkest of blackness.
The water station was lit by yellowed lanterns and torches stuck into the walls between the cracks. It glowed like the center of a very menacing volcano, about to erupt in the shadows. Two figures invaded the circle of sick, sallow light and headed toward the metal door with "Do Not Enter - Workers Only" on its front in scratched, white paint. One person was in a long cloak with a voluminous hood, white, and the other was wearing a black uniform, tattered at the sleeves, which were rolled up, revealing white arms with black tattooed designs that haven't seen the sun in months.
"Kendal," said the man with the tattoos. His hair was tied away in a mass of silky white hair, revealing his soft angular face, feminine mouth, glowing Mako eyes and sharp nose. "What will we do with the children when we find the one?"
"Don't ask me. I don't know yet." The hooded man opened the door, twisting the handle with a heavy scraping groan from the mechanism, entered the better lit area beyond. The light-bulbs blazed white and new, and although water damage and time had worn away most of the water treatment's green paint, it still felt like a comfortable place to be. Couches were dragged in from the outside, lowered by a pulley-elevator a few yards away, then carried over tumbled rocks that concealed it from view; the journey felt like miles to a normal human. But to Kendal and his spikey-headed companion, very little could faze them.
A man with black hair and a smile that was just as handsome as it was capable of wilting flowers, drew back his hood, letting his locks of black, midnight hair tumble free. The main corridor was empty. Three doors opened off into other rooms Only two of them were still in use. They walked shoulder to shoulder even though they had six feet of clearance on one side.
Through one door, Kendal already knew that his charges were waiting. They spoke softer, unable to help the ungodly squealing of the other door as the entered their quarters. The children would probably remain asleep for a long time, realizing that it was useless crying. Children were like precursors to all mankind, Kendal thought. Just sit there and cry.
"When we find the right one," the soft-voiced man asked, "we'll set the other children free, right?"
Kendal didn't answer. He removed his cloak, bunching it up while he sat in a busted up leather chair. He had the drawn, tired look of someone pushed to his limits. But that couldn't be farther from the truth.
The man edged closer. "Kendal!" He dropped to his one knee, leaning against his companion's leg. "Kendal, answer me. What are you going to do?"
The man opened his mouth, slurring, "I don't know. I just don't know." And sighed, companionably touching his friend's hair, tugging on his bangs gently, until the other man closed his eyes, resting his cheek on his knee. "Did they go to sleep, Seth?"
"They have." Bare, tattooed hands gently moved along the length of Kendal's legs. It was an easy, slow motion, meant to comfort, and relax... and encourage the other to spread them a bit, as he kneeled obediently between the wide spread knees. "Which means..."
"...We are alone," Kendal finished, watching him with lidded, gleaming eyes. He took his hands, pulling him closer, until Seth's chin was finally resting against his belt. White hair was mascarading the slightly obvious look of blind adoration and love that emanated from his winter sky blues. In perfect psychic understanding, Seth gently began to disengage one belt piece from another while Kendal's fingers moved of their own will through the other man's soft pale locks.
"Leave off," said a cold voice from behind them. Kendal froze, and turned to stare as a dark blonde-headed man emerged from another room behind them. He had the look of someone who'd just swallowed something sour. "Keep your wang in your pants, Kendal. We ain't out of the shit yet."
Seth did not show his disappointment. In his heart of hearts, he'd been hoping the sour-dispositioned blonde would have been away for at least another hour. While he stood up and Kendal moodily adjusted his trousers again, Sky circled around them, poring over a map that had been nailed to the wall.
"So this is it? The last batch of dumb brattish children... and you're saying you sense at least one of them is the one?" Sky directed this question at Seth, whose cool blue eyes seemed to melt into a darker hue. "So that's it then. You'll let us know direct, won't you?"
"Yes," Seth hissed through his teeth. "But keep in mind that it will take some time before they seriously begin to warm up to me. Children are highly perceptive. I've told you this before."
"Best to walk carefully amongst your egg shells, then!" Sky snapped, turning slightly redder in the face before Kendal stood and turned him around, patting his face.
"Relax," Kendal murmured, then kissed both cheeks. "My brothers. My friends. We will bring the Truth to the world. They will know the Way."
- - - -
In the darkness, a young teenager lay awake, listening to the breathing of the other warm bodies around her. She'd been pleased to find that it was finally quiet again, but still couldn't fathom how all of them could actually be asleep. She'd struggled to close her eyes and force herself to sleep; not so, while her mind was trying to conjure up what these men were truly capable of. They had the look of really cute rock stars, but every one of them, she thought, were uncouth, unkempt murderers. She never trusted men, not from what she'd learned from childhood.
Before she was adopted by her father (her eyes stung when she thought of him, how worried he must be), she'd been betrayed by a man she had thought was her family's most trusted friend. But he abused that trust - to his disadvantage. He thrown into a penitentiary before he could say "chocobos". After that things just went downhill. Both of her parents were killed in the chaos that was Emerald Weapon, throwing her into an orphanage with about a hundred others like her.
Shortly afterward, well, she'd struck lucky at last. She'd been adopted by Luciel, who had enough money to adopt about seven kids her age. But he insisted he only wanted one.
Her name had always been Saph. It was the name her mother had given her, and it was a name she wanted to keep, and she'd told Luke just the same the rainy evening that he'd signed her into his custody at a filthy, gritty orphanage at the edges of Midgar.
Lying awake in what she was convinced was Hell, she strived to remember the happy times she'd enjoyed growing up with a man of such wealth. It wasn't money to her. It wasn't luck to be so fortunate. She truly loved and appreciated Luciel with all of her heart. It was the next best thing to the unconditional support she'd only barely remembered from her past. Only his was just the same, and almost scary in his eagerness to make her happy and about as spoiled rotten as he could make her.
Saph tucked her knees up to her chest, trying not to breathe through her nose. The sleeping bag she had currently crammed herself into smelled like mildew and wood rot, a sickening stench that reminded her of cold oatmeal in her mouth, and the perfume that the white-haired guy tried to spray on so that the smell wouldn't be half as bad.
Saph shut her hazel-brown eyes and thought, How the hell am I going to get out of this?
- - - -
"I'm going with you," Luciel said decisively. "I trust you. But since you won't take my money, you aren't going alone. Deal?"
Vincent, watching as the black walls of the subway fled past his line of sight, nodded and sighed at the same time. His lengthy dark hair now covered his eyes, while he stared out the window of the subway. They stood close together, neither one of them willing to allow the other to touch him. Vincent was now fully capable of storming a relatively high-guarded building, or fighting a long, grueling battle with a ShinRa war tank. The most impressive thing was that none of his weapons were visible right away. Luciel was not so heavily armed, feeling that his inexperience with weapons no bigger than a shotgun was sourly limiting.
Even so, he'd become exceptionally wonderful with his handguns and uzis. It gave him a sort of pleasure and eagerness to show Vincent Valentine just how much he'd been practicing. But then that thought was foolish enough to make him keep silent. He watched him out of the corner of his eye, aching to speak to him. He felt like he was standing with a stranger.
Remember what he wrote, said a voice in his mind. He doesn't love you. Someone who's dead and gone still owns him.
Vincent watched the tunnel walls flicker by without so much as looking at Luciel. Then, slowly, he turned his eyes and watched him. They stared each other down until the subway suddenly gave a heart-stopping groan and lurch, almost knocking Luciel from his feet if he hadn't been holding on to the bar above his head. He gave a curse, and only just missed Vincent as he stepped away from them and opened the subway door, looking out. The car was still slowly moving. The light washed back and forth over Vincent as he looked first one way, then the other.
From somewhere a voice cried, "What the hell is going on?"
Vincent glanced to Luciel, before he jumped from the subway. Luciel was quick to follow.
The tunnel was dark. Half of the lights were off; up ahead was the smell of twisted metal and dust. Luciel covered his nose and mouth, muffling a sneeze. The pair ran down the length of the tunnel to the front of the subway train, until he reached the end. The subway had smashed headlong into a wall of tumbled rocks and stone. Vincent's face was slightly whiter.
"We were lucky it didn't explode," Luciel murmured ominously. "Or we'd all be swimming in a sea of Mako playing harps."
"Very funny," Vincent replied without one whit of amusement. He jumped into the first train, covering his head as a shower of sparks exploded from somewhere up above. He pulled open the door to the driver car and then proceeded to rescue the man inside. Luciel took him from his arms and laid him out on the ground.
The last man was dead. Vincent emerged with him himself and laid him down flat. Luciel turned away, shaking his head. Some of the passengers were coming out, including a man wearing a police uniform. "Lead these people back to the nearest subway station," he ordered, his red eyes fixating on the man's badge before going to his face. "Make sure they have enough to eat. Tell everyone that the way is collapsed. Immediately."
The officer didn't need to be ordered, but he was still in shock. Hell, Luciel's ears were still ringing. Dust and smoke still cling to the air, trying to invade his lungs with every breath. He watched and made sure that everyone was safe while Vincent skillfully darted around the rubble. Luciel watched him before rolling his eyes, trembling as he slowly picked his way over sharp jagged rocks.
"Where are you going?" Luciel called after him. Vincent momentarily drifted out of sight, swallowed by a shadow. A moment later he came back, and motioned for him to follow. Luciel jumped, scrabbled up onto the large boulder beside him. "Where the hell d'you go?"
"There's a great hole in the rocks here where a girder is holding them up. That's where we have to go."
He turned away again, moving forward more slowly as Luciel fumbled inside his coat pocket for the flashlight he'd purchased just before boarding the subway train. He fixed the band around his wrist and held it aloft. Once they scurried through the entrance, the girder began to creak and groan. He dashed down the darkened tunnel, keeping Vincent's fleeing figure in sight, never less than four steps behind him. He could have reached out and grabbed his flying coat.
Behind him the crash came and then a cloud of dust lit by the single narrow window of light provided by the flashlight. He coughed and sneezed, while Vincent stopped. He started coughing. At first Luciel thought nothing of it because the dust WAS bad. Then his coughing turned nasty. Luciel quickly went over to him, to help, comfort, but Vincent shoved him away so hard that he fell against the grimy subway wall that his ears rang. His back ached.
A gob of bloody fluid was the end result of Vincent Valentine's coughing. He spat it up onto the ground. Luciel gasped and quickly turned his flashlight away. "Come on, you, we need to get away from all this dust."
"It is not the dust," Vincent murmured, straightening up. "But it doesn't matter. Let's move on. Douse that light, you won't need it up ahead."