Disclaimer: This is inspired by the music video of "Deep" by Nine Inch Nails. I do not own any characters from Square-Enix.

Deep

He never knew the danger. Sure, Tseng told him. And he knew that it was a top-class biohazard material, lethal to anyone who handled it without care. But he never knew. His vision garbled like when he smoked, bubbles popping, rainbow reflections floating in the air, disjointed colors in wild disarray, spinning, shattering, then reassembling like shattered mosaics, their colors brilliant, vibrant, and grotesque.

He lay, voiceless, twitching to death.

It was Rufus' fault.

The young president of the ragtag remains of the Shinra Company knew that it was a top-class biohazard material. How and what, no one knew. But he wanted it. He demanded it. He desperately craved it like an obsessed scientist. He sounded like the old Rufus, cold, with simmering energy, arrogance, and imperious manners. And cold, smothering fury that did not allow a "no".

It was unnerving. The Turks and the young president were closer than never before when the Geostigma fiasco was going around. Rufus relied on them; they became his hands, his feet, his eyes, his mouth, his ears. But when he heard about the black box, he decidedly reverted back to being the President of the Shinra company. He was no longer Rufus. He was Rufus Shinra, with all the arrogance and stupid orders he could muster.

The order itself came from Rufus, but via Tseng's mouth. Tseng had barged into Reno's room – as usual, he had no respect for is subordinate's privacy in the Healin Lodge – where Elena lay in his arms, both dozing off after what Tseng called "Reno's rut". Elena was still dozing, but Reno jumped up, his thin, unhealthy face etched with fury.

"Jesus FUCK, Tseng!" he shouted. "Can't we have some privacy, yo? What if we weren't done yet and we were fucking?"

"You do that in the grand public, nothing new." Tseng replied quietly. "You've graced all of us with worse views of you than now. Get up. Orders from Rufus."

"Oh yeah?" He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "And what are we gonna do about this devirginized sleeping angel, huh?"

"Your problem. Actually, let me give you the message so you can be mauled in peace. Rufus wants the black boxes – two of them – stolen out of the Biogentech. Top priority security, it's class one biohazard. Good luck." Tseng was about to leave the room when he stopped his gait. "Oh, by the way, Reno, I need to talk to you after you come back."

"Yeah?"

"It's about your plans of making families."

With a soft click, the door closed. Trust Tseng to say "making families" instead of "fucking". Reno grinned wildly.

"'Laney? Wake up."

The stealing part was surprisingly easy, considering that it was supposed to be top security area. They were two medium-sized boxes – about two feet by one feet. It was black iron, and pretty heavy.

The two diverted the chase by Elena getting one box and Reno getting the other. And then they drove away from the facility, without any further ado. Until it was about two miles away that Reno heard the ticking.

Was it in the car? He focused on the sound, and his instincts said no. Himself? No to that either.

That meant…

The box.

"Shit!" He slammed on the brakes, and the car came to a screeching halt, with the burned rubber wafting through the open window. Hopping out of the car in a hurry, Reno threw open the trunk and dug out a crowbar. Sitting back in the front seat again, he jammed the crowbar between the latches, and smashed his hand on one end.

It did not move.

The ticking was still going on, and he was starting to panic. He tried it again.

The box opened with a startling ease, and out sprayed…

Green.

It was just green. Suddenly, his vision went green. It sprayed everywhere, in his car, on himself, on his seat. As soon as it went on his skin, Reno felt an unnerving sensation. It was like thousand small probes eating into his skin, slithering between each cell and making its way through. His skin was being pinched, teared, and entered into.

He screamed as he tried to shield his face from the spray, but it was too late. He had managed to shut his eyes and close his mouth in time, but already he could feel the sensation on his nose, his cheeks. Looking at the side mirror, he could see that his red hair, his pale face, his throat, everything was the sickly green, the kind of dark green that you get when you mix forest-green paint with a dab of black.

Recovering his wits and still acutely feeling small molecules eating into his skin and even into his muscles, he revved the engine on again and sped away from the location. They were supposed to meet in a small junkyard couple of miles ahead. He turned at the end of the street, and sped into the junkyard…

And collided head-on with Elena's car, which was coming in the opposite direction.

Simple physics would have told him that head-on collision was the worst kind you can get. Reno did not know that, but now he did. The fronts crashed and sent ripples in the front of the car. Reno's car slid up Elena's, and then stopped.

He could hear the roar of the fire, and Elena hastily getting out. She looked… orange. Not the pale creamy tone and the blond, but orange. Was it the fire?

No, it was the spray. So hers was orange. Huh.

No time to contemplate. Reno smashed the window open with the cursed box. His muscles were being eaten away like he had muscular dystrophy. He could not move as smoothly or with the same strength. He barely had enough abilities to move.

Hauling himself out like a caterpillar that had its half chopped off, he landed on the ground with a thud. Crawling to Elena, he touched her bare legs, squeezing its firm skin. Orange mixed with green and created a sickly color, and he could feel Elena's fingers digging into his scalp, pulling on his hair.

The fire exploded, and his world went black.

He was twitching, and he knew that the spray was eating into his nervous system. He could not do anything – his vision was suddenly getting clearer, but that was no help. Elena was already dead, a few feet away from him. He was going to die. He was going to die…


News broadcast from The Edge:

"…two accomplices from stealing the top security boxes had been found dead in a junkyard few miles away from the facility. It seems that the two had opened the boxes which contained orange and green extremely toxic dyes, an died from an overdosed exposure…"