.3.

Early morning found Aeris seated in a secluded booth on the Trans-Continental train, which made daily sojourns throughout the middle continent and connected all urban and rural areas together. The railway was the brainchild of ShinRa Inc., and was unsurprisingly popular. Using public transportation required a certain level of discretion, and so it was that Aeris had boarded the train clad in a long pink dress, red jacket, and a pair large and ugly brown boots she had bought for 2 gil from a homeless woman the night previous. Her other clothing and her weapons (which had been painstakingly disassembled) were stowed within a large blue suitcase which lay above her now in the storage rack. She wasn't entirely unarmed, however; in the small breast pocket of her jacket a derringer was stored, and laid across the seat opposite her was a long metal walking staff.

The train left Midgar at precisely 7:00 am. Aeris watched through the window as the scenery changed; the dark, intricate metal mass of the city slowly gave way to the growing glow of dawn as it broke over the rest of the world. Once they were free entirely of Midgar, Aeris sighed deeply. Free from constraints, free from interference, her senses returned to her full force. Never did she realize how much she depended on them until they were dampened by the overwhelming, teeming centers of civilization. She closed her eyes, allowing herself finally to be flooded with the soothing calm and reassurance of her mentors …

"Good morning."

She re-opened her eyes slowly, turning her head to find Tseng standing in the door of her compartment. He looked as he always did, dressed in his professional navy suit and his ebony hair falling loose around his shoulders. She gave him a perfunctory nod. "Hello, Tseng. Heading for Nibelheim?"

He had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Yes. By orders only."

She smiled at that. "I have heard of Rufus' designs on Sephiroth. You will be there to ensure that I complete what I mean to do."

"I have no doubts you will be successful."

"But Rufus does?"

"Not doubts. Uncertainties."

Aeris snorted softly. "They are the same thing, Tseng."

"Perhaps," The Turk said with his own smile. "As it is, I will consider this strictly a vacation. But should you require aid …"

All signs of pleasantness faded from her eyes then to be replaced with something cold, something certain. "I won't."

Tseng nodded, face suddenly impassive, a similar light in his own gaze. "I know. But I had to offer. Enjoy the rest of the ride, Aeris. Perhaps we shall run into each other in Nibelheim."

She gave him a brief ghost of a smile as he turned and departed before returning her attention to the passing scenery. She was unsurprised that Rufus had sent Tseng; she had expected as much. Of all the Turks, she liked Tseng best. Rude was undeniably powerful, but lacked the sharp intelligence and mind for tactics that his leader possessed. Elena, because of her callous, icy demeanour, was not to be taken lightly, but she didn't have the indescribable edge that Tseng held. And Reno … Aeris smiled. Reno was controlled rage in motion; volatile, unpredictable, and altogether rather unpleasant to trifle with. The uppercut he'd landed on her the night previous was proof of that, and she would have been lying if she denied the fact that she'd enjoyed giving him her payback. Such was life. Reno would heal, and he would carry a grudge, and inevitably somewhere down the road he would try and exact revenge. When it happened, she wouldn't kill him. But she would make him regret it.

A pleasant baritone came over the compartment speaker. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is now 7:20 am, and our estimated time of arrival in Nibelheim is six hours. Please enjoy your ride."

Aeris removed the derringer from her pocket. It was small enough that she could close her hand over it completely, hiding it from view. She wanted it ready should something unpleasant decide to ruin her travel, and so she laid both hands in her lap and leaned her head against the window. Sifting through the thoughts and voices which roiled within her mind that weren't her own, she began to strategize, to estimate, to plan.

Six hours was a long time. She would have something plausible formed by then.

.x.

Two train cars away, Tseng was idly scanning the Midgar Times while reflecting on the bounty hunter he had just spoken to. She fascinated him, intrigued him, and unnerved him on many different levels. The first time he'd seen her had been in Wutai, on that day that so much had changed. He'd been sent there by Rufus to secure a treaty from the ruler, Lord Godo, allowing ShinRa to begin mining the nearby mountains for Mako. Rufus knew that it was a difficult, if not nearly impossible assignment; he knew that Zhao Tseng was in fact the second cousin of Godo, and that he had left Wutai in poor standing. It was a trial, for the Turks at that point were still a fledging organization, and Rufus was testing the waters with them. And so Tseng had gone willingly back to the land where he was reviled and despised. He had expected neither acceptance, nor forgiveness for his past transgressions; not many would forget that Zhao Tseng, member of the ruling family, had assassinated one of his own for money. The man he had killed was a minister of minor importance and was in fact corrupt, but it was the concept most found abhorrent. Godo had exiled Tseng from Wutai, and Tseng, with no small amount of bitterness, had left. Drawn by the illicit promises and grandeur rumoured to haunt the mainland cities, he had drifted eastward.

He had left Wutai an empty and desperate man, stripped of his rank, his belongings, and his money. Midgar seemed the obvious destination, and through numerous means of transportation he made his way there. It seemed news of his betrayal had spread fast; it was not long after he settled within Midgar that he began to receive propositions. The money was good, too good for him to pass up; there was also something about performing executions that he found exhilarating. There were enough offers coming to him that he could afford to be choosy, and he turned down those he deemed to dangerous. It was not long before the name Tseng was associated with one of the most proficient assassins in the metropolis underworld.

And then Rufus had found him. Tseng knew a brilliant opportunity when he saw one, and so he accepted the Vice President's offer. He admired Rufus, admired his vision and his ambition, and thus it was he traveled to Wutai at Rufus' behest. The Wutains were either uneasy of their banished brethren, coming before them a changed man in intimidating, foreign clothing, or blatantly hostile. Godo, in a show of mercy and compassion, invited Tseng to meet with him and his heads of state in the ceremonial pagoda. Standing before Godo and the other government figures, Tseng was acutely aware of their disdain for him, and it incited his blood to fire. He repressed it and calmly went about his business, explaining the treaty and the benefits it would provide to the people of Wutai. When he had finished, Godo merely laughed with derision, proclaiming the treaty offer a foolish and hasty gesture on behalf of ShinRa. His laughter had died then, and he had leveled upon Tseng an intensely measuring gaze.

It was in that moment that Tseng knew he was about to die.

He'd drawn his gun, and even managed to get a shot off before they swarmed him. He'd fought as though he were possessed, and all the while Godo stood in the background and intoned that though Tseng had lost his honor in life, he would regain it in death. It was to be a ceremonial execution, Tseng realized, and as he lay there restrained, furious, and helpless, his eyes fell upon the small reed thin girl standing next to Godo and staring at him with disgust. It was his young cousin and Godo's daughter Yuffie; reading her expression then Tseng realized just exactly how far he'd fallen. He felt no remorse, only a burning fury at the righteousness the Wutains cloaked themselves with, always oblivious to the actual nature of the world. Godo had approached then bearing a sword, and Tseng had closed his eyes and bitterly resigned himself to his fate.

But it was not to be. All hell broke loose in the matter of seconds; numerous figures swathed all in black poured into the first floor of the pagoda, each carrying some manner of automatic rifles, and they had opened fire. In the chaos that ensued, Tseng watched in numb shock as people he had grown with, been friends with and had loved were gunned down with swift efficiency. Godo and the other masters of the pagoda launched a counter attack, attacking with the inhuman power and speed that had taken years for them to accumulate. Several of them fell to gunfire; Tseng watched, entranced as one of the black clad assassins dodged and whirled around Godo, avoiding his attacks with a deadly grace. Tseng couldn't see what the assassin did, but suddenly Godo staggered back and fell to his knees. And the lone assassin, seeming so much the same as the others but fairly radiating an exclusive power, produced a pistol and held it to his head. In the split second before she fired Tseng could see plainly the terror that flooded Godo's face, and at the sight he experienced a rush of his own righteous vindication. The assassin pulled the trigger, and blood spattered everywhere before the ruler of Wutai toppled over.

There was a piercing scream that cut through all the other commotion, and Tseng turned to see Yuffie lunging for the lone assassin, tears streaming down her face. And with a cold, detached determination Tseng withdrew his second handgun and shot Yuffie without hesitation square in the back. The girl teetered to a halt and spun around, blood blossoming vividly on the front of her kimono. She saw Tseng, saw his gun, and there was no longer disgust on her face as she collapsed slowly to the floor. There was only raw hatred, and at the sight of it he smiled viciously.

The assassin was moving again, firing with skilled precision into the survivors that swarmed about frantically attempting to gain the exit. When the last one had fallen, Tseng was the only person besides the assassins standing. One by one they left the pagoda, moving with quick and confident stealth; the last assassin removed its mask, and Tseng found himself face to face with Aeris. She began to explain to him in a quiet, unhurried voice what had just happened; Rufus had known this was a suicide mission but had wanted to test Tseng's mettle, and so he had sent along assassins to ensure Tseng's survival. With Godo and the rest of the ruling family dead, ShinRa no longer needed permission to mine the nearby mountains for Mako. As she spoke, it all made crystalline sense to Tseng, but he felt no fury at Rufus' deception. It was to be expected, after all.

Aeris had left then, and he had followed, departing from Wutai under the cover of night to avoid detection and setting sail back to the mainland on board a commercial freighter. Nothing was said between him and Rufus upon his return to Midgar, but between them there was a new respect, a newfound sense of trust. He encountered Aeris numerous times since then; her reputation grew steadily, and Rufus often hired her for jobs abroad. Never would Tseng forget what he had seen of her in Wutai, for he knew better than most how powerful the Wutains truly were. The ease with which she dispatched Godo awed him, and so when he told Rufus his faith in her abilities was unwavering, he was speaking the truth.

Sephiroth, however, could be an entirely different matter. He didn't know how much of the rumors surrounding the legendary General were fact and fiction, but he was willing to bet regardless of truth, Aeris was more than capable of handling him.

.x.

The sun was just reaching its zenith when Aeris, having just left the train, first set foot in the local Nibelheim inn. The common room wasn't crowded; here and there a table was occupied, and Aeris noted with some interest a booth were two blue uniformed members of SOLDIER sat talking quietly. Hefting her large suitcase with a strength that belied her delicate appearance, she approached the front desk in order to inquire about a room. The innkeeper, a portly, elderly balding man, squinted at her over wire rimmed glasses.

"Yes, we have rooms," he said in response to her question. "For how many?"

"Just one." She said. As he filled out the appropriate paperwork, Aeris darted another curious glance at the two officers seated in the corner of the common room. They had removed their masks; one was blonde and the other was dark haired. She wondered whether they were a part of Sephiroth's contingent, but her musings were interrupted by the innkeeper as he shoved a piece of paper and a pen at her.

"If you'll just sign here and here," He said, indicating the spaces with a pudgy finger, "I'll get you your key."

She took the pen from him and scrawled her name in the right spots. The innkeeper, watching as she did so, asked, "Are you here for business or pleasure?"

She handed the pen back at him with a smile, "Pleasure."

He nodded enthusiastically, "Ah, good, a tourist! There are so many nice places to visit around here—"

He halted mid-sentence, eyes focused on something behind her, and at that exact same moment Aeris felt a shudder claw its way up her spine. Quickly she turned, and found herself confronted by none other than Sephiroth.

It seemed rumor had held some truth, for he was in fact an impressive specimen. He towered over both her and the innkeeper, his solid and undeniably muscular form fairly radiating strength. He wore a thick black coat that fell to his feet, and over it there were attached several pieces of silver, polished armor. Rising up from behind his shoulder she caught glimpse of a sword scabbard and pommel, and a large leather buckled strap was just visible crossing his chest beneath the collar of his coat. Falling in a thick, straight mass over his shoulder was a length of remarkable snowy hair. Arrogance was strongly evident in the strong and severe lines of his face, and he watched her idly out of green eyes that glowed unnaturally in a manner the moon would envy.

Seeing him, feeling him, caused the voices coiled within her to erupt in cacophonous disharmony, and with great and forcible effort she calmed them. Turning her back on the General, she spoke to the innkeeper. "My key, please?"

"Oh … oh yes," the old man said, still eyeing Sephiroth with a mixture of terror and awe. He reached below the counter, produced a key, and handed it to her. With murmured thanks, she turned to leave.

The General hadn't moved from his previous position, which happened to be directly in her path. Obviously he was accustomed to others moving out of his way. Schooling her face into a sweet smile, she looked up at him and said clearly, "Excuse me."

His disinterested gaze, which had been surveying the surroundings, flicked to her and very quickly the look in them became haughty. Aeris could feel something similar moving across her face, making the smile fade, and a long silent moment passed before he said in a deep and echoing voice which clearly indicated his lowly opinion of her, "Of course."

"Thank you." She said with another quick smile, but it wasn't friendly. He didn't notice; he had already moved to take her place at the counter. She glanced at her key, took note of the room number, and with her suitcase in tow began to climb the winding staircase in the corner. Just before stepping onto the next floor, she paused, staring through the railing down at Sephiroth.

He was her target. And he was also, according to all her senses and the cries of the forgotten ones, the Ancient ones, one of the most powerful creatures to walk the earth. She sighed heavily before continuing to her room.

She had her work cut out for her.