Happy Weekend! We made it guys T_T
I had a lot of fun writing this chapter! There's something so satisfying in writing about things exploding, though none of you may think so by the time you get to the end lol.
As always, shoutout to silver_doe287 for beta'ing this chapter!
Enjoy! :)
The air tasted like dust. Aerith supposed that's how it always tasted — like dust, and sweat, and metal — but today, it was different. Everything was different in the face of complete destruction, yet nothing had really changed. She hurried down the same path to her house, Cloud following all the while, and hopped over the same potholes, dodged the same pipes, and ducked under the same debris. Her heart pounded in her throat as she ran.
I need to hurry.
The thought chased her all the way to Sector Five, and by the time she could see the garden leading up to her front door, anxiety trilled within her veins. Something had happened earlier. She wasn't exactly sure what had happened, or what could have possibly changed in this morning to make her feel so afraid, yet she couldn't ignore it. It was like a knife skimming over her skin or a flame dancing before her eyes; but no matter how badly she wanted to turn away, she couldn't bring herself to avert her gaze.
So she had to make a decision.
"This way," she breathed as, instead of continuing towards the front door, she headed towards the shed propped against the house. She didn't even stop to see if Cloud was following, because of course he was; she could feel his presence against her back, calm and reassuring, thrumming with pent-up energy that had been caging him since his argument with Zack. "In here."
Without another word, Aerith threw open the shed door. It opened with a piercing groan, and more dust spilled into the air as they settled with a loud bang. Inside the shed, gardening tools and other similar objects were neatly organized on shelves or propped against the wall. Spider webs strung from the items like strands of silk, a chaotic knot of shining silver that effortlessly covered anything in its path. It was clear that the shed wasn't used very often.
Cloud wrinkled his nose. "Do you need something in here?" he asked, in the same tone he might say, What the hell, Aerith?
"Well, I don't," Aerith replied as she reached into the shed, right where all the spiderwebs had been broken, "but you do."
There was a half-beat of silence, then: "Huh?"
Instead of explaining further, Aerith's only response was to pull out a gunsword from the bottom of the shed… the same gunsword Cloud had been using when she had Zack had found him on the upper plate just a few short days ago. Its blade gleamed beneath the artificial sunlight as she wordlessly handed it to him.
Cloud's eyes went wide as he silently accepted it, and it took him a moment to find his voice again. "It's been cleaned."
"Yes," Aerith said, smiling despite the tightness in her chest as Cloud inspected the blade beneath the wane light. "Zack cleaned it the night we found you on the upper plate. He spent the entire night cleaning it, actually. He had said that since he couldn't sleep," she added, her smile dimming, "he might as well do something useful."
Cloud's lips flattened. "Because of me," he murmured. His eyes swept up from the sword, and his eyes burned with a brittle light when they met hers. "He couldn't sleep because of me. Because of… what happened, what I did."
"He couldn't sleep for a lot of reasons," Aerith assured.
"But it was mainly me."
"Cloud…" Aerith faintly exhaled, centering herself. How can he be so stubborn? "Cloud, I think you're focusing on the wrong thing right now." When Cloud's brows furrowed in confusion, she continued, "You're focusing on what you can't do, when you should be focusing on what you can do. And right now—" she placed a hand over his — "you are capable of far more than you think you are."
With that a quiet moment passed, and then another. Cloud's cheeks were tinged pink as he studied her expression, searching for any sort of crack in her confident facade. He finally said, "I think we both know that's not true."
"It is," Aerith insisted. "Cloud, do you trust me?"
Uncertainty flickered in his eyes, and after a pause he said, "Zack trusts you."
"But do you trust me?"
"I…" Cloud's gaze dropped to the floor, but a moment later his gaze swept back towards her face. Helplessly, as if admitting a personal weakness, he replied, "I do."
Aerith's lips lifted in a smile. "Thank you," she told him, then continued, "The truth is, I think you're the one who's going to stop the plate from falling."
That got Cloud's attention. His eyes went wide as his lips formed a small, incredulous o. "You think I…" He cut off abruptly, shaking his head. "Aerith, Zack's already on his way. And besides, he… made it very clear he doesn't need my help."
"I know that, but…" Aerith bit her lip, trying and failing to find the right words. How could she explain that she just had a feeling that Cloud had to be up there, that she was certain that Zack would need help up there and Cloud would be the only person who could give it to him? "Well, the truth is," she finally began, fumbling a bit, "that I think that Zack is going to need you up there with him, but it's more than that. I feel like you have to be there if we're going to save Sector Seven, that you're the one —"
But Cloud was shaking his head even before she could even finish her sentence. "I… I want to help, you know that," he stammered, "but I don't know that I have to be up there. I mean, Zack's a SOLDIER First Class while I'm… well, you know."
"Cloud…"
"And besides, Zack was right earlier," Cloud continued, not one to be dissuaded. "I'm not one hundred percent, and honestly, I probably won't be for a while. I mean, I'll still go," he said quickly, as if he was afraid Aerith would change her mind. "And I do want to help. But if I go up there… there's no guarantee that I'll… that I'll be…"
"That you'll be?" Aerith prompted when Cloud's voice trailed off.
"That I'll be… functional," Cloud finished. His cheeks flushed a faint pink, yet he continued to look her in the eyes. "If things get intense, and I have a mako poisoning flare-up or something… I don't want anyone to risk their lives trying to save me. I can't. If anyone dies because I had a problem…" His grip tightened around the gunblade's hilt as he faintly shuddered. "I don't think I could live with myself."
Aerith's expression dimmed, and it took all of her self-control not to reach for him, to offer a modicum of comfort. Cloud — as hurt as he was — didn't need comfort right now, but instead he needed a foundation. He needed someone to trust him, someone who could encourage him, and since Tifa wasn't here at the moment… well, it seemed like the task fell to her.
"Cloud," Aerith began, "how are you feeling right now?"
Cloud's lips pitched in a frown; he did hate this question, after all. "Fine."
"And do you have any potions?" she continued.
"Yeah, two."
"So if you're feeling fine," Aerith surmised, "and you have two potions… do you think that you'll have a flare-up if a fight were to happen?"
Cloud's lips pursed. "I… don't think so, but Zack…"
"I'm not asking Zack, I'm asking you," Aerith stated. "Do you think you'll be okay, health-wise, going to defend the plate? If not," she continued at Cloud's incredulous stare, "then that's your decision, and you'd be brave to say it. But… don't lie to yourself, Cloud. You're an adult, and you're free to make your own decisions."
Cloud's expression had been pinched as she had talked, as if he had taken a bite out of a lemon, but her last statement had him blinking, as if he had never realized that he was an adult before this. "I…" His voice trailed off, but Aerith waited patiently for him to pick up the thread of his thoughts. "I… I want to go defend the plate," he finally said, hands tightening around the gunblade. "I want to help. I know I can help, I know I can do something because if I don't do anything and something bad happens," he added, his voice much quieter now, "I don't know how I could live with myself."
"Then go," Aerith said. "I trust you."
Cloud froze for a moment, apparently stunned speechless. He stared at her long enough that Aerith felt her cheeks heat, but then his lips unexpectedly quirked up. "Zack'll be pissed," he said.
Aerith blinked, not expecting the quip, but she found herself grinning as well. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him," she promised.
Cloud looked a bit relieved. "Thanks, Aerith."
"Of course." Then she added, because she couldn't help herself, "Zack didn't mean everything he told you at the bar, you know."
Cloud's expression dimmed. "I know," he said, but he didn't sound very convinced.
His tone — sad, broken, defeated — made Aerith's heart hurt. "He just cares about you, and having Hojo —" Cloud's sudden wince was not lost on her — "trying to find you again scares him. Scares him a lot, actually."
"Scares him?" The way Cloud sounded, it was like he couldn't believe that Zack could be afraid of anything, and it was such a childish viewpoint that Aerith couldn't help but smile; not a happy, cheerful smile, but the sort of smile one might wear when saying goodbye to someone for the last time.
"Yes, that's right. The thought of losing you terrifies him, and since he can't really control the situation with Hojo and the Turks… he tries to control you instead. To keep you safe," Aerith explained.
Cloud's lips pitched in a scowl. "But I can…"
"I know you can," Aerith said, already knowing what Cloud was going to say, "and I promise that we'll talk to Zack later, so that he'll understand that him trying to control everything isn't healthy for either of you. But I just wanted to tell you so that you could… understand him a little bit better, and maybe forgive him."
"Forgive him?" Cloud cocked his head, confused. "For what?"
"When you talk to Zack, you can ask him," Aerith replied, then continued with a quick glance to the metal sky hanging above them, "but right now, I think you need to hurry to the plate's support column."
Cloud's eyes hardened a fraction. "Right," he said, and Aerith was silently thankful for his clear resolve. Once his mako poisoning cleared, he would undoubtedly be a force to be reckoned with. The thought softened her expression, but then she was dragged out of her thoughts by Cloud asking, "But will you be okay down here?"
"I will," Aerith promised with a firm nod. "Don't worry about me, you just get to the support column."
"Sounds good. And, Aerith?"
Aerith, who had been preparing to hurry back to her front door, paused. "Yes?" she asked, and then Cloud smiled.
"Thank you."
Aerith returned his smile. "Anytime," she said. "I'll see you later."
Cloud nodded. "I'll see you later," he promised, and with that he began to run the opposite direction. Aerith watched him until his disappeared around the corner, her heart lodged firmly in her throat, before she sighed and made her way to her house.
Be safe, she silently prayed. For all of us.
The Turk's Lounge had never been a particularly happy, overly-joyous place, but this — whatever the hell this was — was a new type of low. For once, Reno wasn't making sarcastic comments in between every other sentence of Tseng's debrief. Rude resolutely stared down at his untouched cup of coffee, brows furrowed and forehead creased, as if trying to levitate it off the counter using only his mind. Elena… well, there wasn't much to say about Elena, except for the fact that her eyes was slightly puffy and rimmed with red, and she wouldn't look Tseng in the eye whenever he asked a question.
And it was all because of the empty chair pushed up against the conference table. Sometimes, when Tseng was reciting a particularly complex piece of the plan, his gaze wouldn't instinctively flick to the empty spot and, all of a sudden, he would remember that Cissnei wasn't here anymore. She had made her choice, and now she was gone.
The news of her retirement had affected everyone in the team differently, but Reno had summarized it the most succinctly:
"Don't say that she's been retired," he had practically growled before slamming down into his chair. "She's dead, end of story."
Tseng hadn't bothered to correct him, and those two words — she's dead — had set the mood for the rest of the meeting. Though, of course, the contents of said meeting likely had something to do with the somber atmosphere as well. It wasn't every day when they were instructed to wipe out an eighth of the city.
Tseng leaned forward against the table, and his hands were pressed flat against its glossy mahogany surface. "So," he said, his eyes roaming from face to face, "does anyone have any questions?"
"Yeah," Reno replied, not unexpectedly. Tseng nodded at him, allowing him the floor, so Reno stood up, cleared his throat with a serious look on his face, and then so resolutely began, "My question is this: What the fuck?"
Rude turned to his partner with an arched eyebrow. "That's your question?" he asked, his voice like gravel.
"Yeah," Reno said, sitting back down, "and it's a damn good question, too. Everything has gone to shit this week. We fucked up the whole Zack and Cloud rescue thing, fucked up recruiting Zack, lost Zack, then Cissnei was killed 'cause she's a traitor —" Elena flinched, though Reno didn't notice — "and now Shinra wants us to drop the plate. So, I repeat," he enunciated, "what the fuck?"
Tseng felt a headache bloom between his eyes. "Language, Reno."
"Fuckity fuck fuck."
Irritation flickered across Tseng's nerves, but after a tense moment, he decided to let it slide. It had been a trying week, and if Reno's coping strategy was to lash out, then so be it. They could have a conversation about it later. Right now, they needed to focus on the task at hand.
Tseng resisted the urge to card a hand through his hair and said, "President Shinra is offering us a last chance to prove the worth of our department. If we can accomplish this task and prove that our loyalty lies firmly with Shinra, then he will allow us to continue our mission.
"And if we fail?" Elena asked, speaking up for the first time.
Tseng's gaze flicked towards her. "If we fail," he replied, "then we'll also be enjoying an early retirement."
Elena's gaze dropped back to the table as Reno snorted. "Yeah, a retirement ten feet under," he muttered.
"If we're lucky," Rude said, his tone bland. "They could incinerate us."
"Or they could stick us in a mako tank and turn us into glow sticks," Reno tacked on with a dark glint in his eyes. "Or maybe they'll off us gladiator-style, like stick us in one of Hojo's labs and let his monsters get some practice in."
Rude sagely nodded, as if they were discussing the journey to enlightenment rather than various ways to die. "That may be fun."
"No one is going to die," Tseng interrupted, though he privately believed that Shinra would kill them quietly and dump their bodies in the wastes outside Midgar. "This is a mission just like any other, and we will succeed. We're the Turks, and if you'd recall, there's no mission that is impossible for us."
Though no one contradicted him, he could see the disagreement plain on their faces. It worried him — just a short week ago, they would have met his statement with sharp grins and bravado — but it did not surprise him. A lot had happened recently. Too much had happened, and without proper time to process the events…
Tseng plucked his coffee mug off of the conference table and made his way to the coffee machine. He could feel the eyes of his team boring into his back as he slid the mug into the slot and selected the cappuccino option; the machine churned, struggling with his request, before spitting out a stream of dark, bitter liquid. Steam wafted from the mug's ceramic lip.
"After this mission," he found himself saying, "we'll be going on a trip to Costa del Sol. It would technically be a business trip," he continues as a stunned silence filled the room, "and we will have to make a few stops along the way, but you would be wise to pack your beach gear." The coffee machine sputtered to a stop, and he took the coffee before glancing over his shoulder. His team stared back in wide-eyed surprise. "Any questions?" he finished.
Elena thickly swallowed. "Costa del Sol?" she managed, sounding considerably less depressed than she had a moment ago.
"Yes."
"In a hotel?"
Tseng's lips quirked, but his tone was expressionless as he deadpanned, "Yes."
"With a beach-front view? And room service?"
"Yes and yes."
"And it'll be paid for?" Elena continued, doubtful. "All of it?"
"Yes," Tseng repeated.
Elena frowned at him but seemed sated for the moment. Reno, on the other hand, loudly exhaled and leaned back in his chair. It loudly groaned beneath his weight as he muttered, "What the fuck."
"Language," Tseng repeated, but his heart wasn't in it.
Reno didn't respond right away; he only continued to stare at the ceiling, his green eyes searching for something that wasn't there. "So let me get this straight," he said after a lengthy pause. "We get to go on an all-expenses-paid-for vacation to Costa del Sol, for the small price of murdering an eighth of the city's population."
Tseng took a long sip of coffee. When it was worded like that… "Yes," he said as his gaze flicked down to Reno. "That's right."
The look Reno gave him in return could have cut glass. "Those hotel prices must have been a bitch."
"They were," Tseng agreed, and took another long draught of coffee. With how much caffeine he was ingesting into his system, he was half-surprised he hadn't started speaking in tongues. He said, "But if you're done, I'd like to continue with the debrief."
Reno's expression darkened a fraction, but then he threw his hands up in the air and said, "Fine, I'm done. Feel free to get on with it."
"Thank you," Tseng replied, ever polite, and he returned back to the table. Sitting down, he continued, "The plan is as follows: the plate drop will occur at fourteen-hundred hours. Reno and Rude, you will make your way to Sector Seven's support column and position yourself by the master control panel. Elena, you will be monitoring the situation and will alert Reno and Rude if any changes occur around the support column. I will be going on a classified solo mission."
Rude arched an eyebrow. "Classified?"
"Even from us?" Elena asked.
"Yes, even from you all," Tseng effortlessly replied. A chill settled on the room, one that hadn't been there before, and all he could do was keep a straight face and hope he didn't make a fatal mistake. "But rest assured," he continued, "I will be monitoring the situation on my own, and I will intervene if anything were to happen."
"And what, pray tell, could possibly happen?" Sarcasm dripped off of Reno's words, and each one burned into Tseng's consciousness like acid.
Tseng resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose; his headache was beginning to grow into something fierce. "Do your job, Reno," he finally said, then swept his gaze across the room. He pointedly did not look at Cissnei's empty chair as he said, "Meeting adjourned. I'll see you all on the other side."
With that, he swept out of the room without looking back. The door closed behind him, not quick enough to smother Reno's loud curse, and with that Tseng continued down the hall. His footsteps echoed hollow against the walls. His eyes felt like sandpaper. His skin felt thin, too thin, as if the lightest touch would bruise him, the lightest cut would slice him clean through. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so brittle.
But I will not break, he reminded himself, and he dropped his gaze to his phone. Its screen was lit up with an unread text, one that affirmed that the sender had received his earlier message. His breath stuttered in his chest as sudden relief made him lightheaded, but he quickly shook the weak feeling off.
He swiped the text away, and as he was about to slip his phone back into his pocket, the screen lit up with another new message. A cursory glance at it revealed that the sender was Rufus Shinra, which had Tseng frowning in confusion… until he read the message itself, and his world slammed back into his dismal reality.
Tonight, Rufus Shinra had said, and Tseng knew he wasn't referring to the plate drop. He was referring to something far more permanent:
President Shinra needed to die.
The train rattled down the tracks. Each bump threw the entire car from side to side, causing the occupants to brace themselves against their seats and the lights to flicker in a rapid staccato. Outside the scuffed window, the world passed by in a midday blur. Tin roofs from the slums glinted beneath the artificial lights while way off in the distance, Barret could make out the towering red wasteland outside Midgar burning beneath the real sun. If he squinted, he thought he could make out heatwaves waft from the copper dirt. Once there had been plants out there. A whole forest even, but now…
… Now, that's the world we're trying to bring back, he reminded himself, his features set in stone. And then we'll protect it, like we're supposed'ta.
If only it were so easy.
"Just a few minutes to the ID checkpoint," Jessie murmured at his side. Her knee bounced as she flipped through her tablet, keeping an eye on their location and various other metrics. "I upgraded our credentials to the newest software model, so we should be good. It's not a big change," she quickly added, not that anyone was asking. "It's basically just some sort of upgrade that patched a bug in Shinra's system. Not that it did them any good or anything, since it was a pretty easy workaround. But like, just in case something sets off the IDs, I'll just jump out the window and —"
"No one's jumping out the window," Barret interrupted.
"Yeah, we'll be fine," Biggs added, with a friendly grin that Barret was currently lacking. "Jessie, your IDs have always worked perfectly before. There's no reason for them to stop working now."
Jessie bit her lip, a nervous habit. "Yeah, but… What if I got a calculation wrong? I double checked and triple checked and even had Wedge look it over too —"
"It looked good," Wedge chimed in.
"— But, like, I can't help but wondering, what if?" Jessie continued, though she did flash Wedge a grateful smile. "I mean… Well, actually, never mind," she said with a quick shake of her head. "Sorry. Just ignore me."
"You good?" Biggs asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. This is just nerves and I need to…" Rather than explaining, Jessie just rapidly shook her hands back and forth as if she was trying to dry them after washing her hands, then said, "You know… that."
Barret arched an eyebrow. "That?"
"Yeah, that. You know…" Jessie did her rapid hand shaking once more, as if that made it any clearer.
Wedge's gaze narrowed like she was a puzzle he had to solve or die trying. "You're… shaking off fleas?" he guessed.
"No, Wedge," Jessie said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm not one of your cats."
"You need to slap someone," was Biggs' hesitant guess.
"What? No! I just need to… you know! Go for a run or something, get the nerves out!"
Wedge, despite everything, laughed out loud. "Jessie, when did this—" he rapidly shook his hands as if spraying them with water — "ever mean going on a run?"
"Just now," Jessie sniffed.
Wedge's laughter increased, and even Jessie cracked a brief smile right as they careened through the identification checkpoint. A red light hissed through the room as the train zipped past the scanner…
… and then an alarm began to blare. It was a wailing, shrieking thing, and if Barret had two working hands then he would have slapped them both across his ears on instinct. As it was, he could barely stop himself before he inadvertently punched himself in the face with his prosthetic gun.
"Everybody up!" he barked, and his team listened. Wedge was already on his way to the end car, Biggs was facing the front with his hand flying towards the knife strapped to his thighs, and Jessie — wide-eyed, pale-faced, murmuring apologies — slammed her tablet shut and took off after Wedge, per their earlier plan. No windows were involved, for now.
"Biggs!" Barret shouted, and then the other man started running after Jessie. Barret was the last to leave, and he made sure to give those remaining in the train car a good glare before entering the final car. Adrenaline seared his nerves as he jumped across the rickety car connector, but not because of how flimsy the connector piece looked.
Something's wrong, he knew.
The Shinra he knew would have convened on their position the moment their IDs got flagged by the system. Security was much tighter than it had been before they had bombed the reactor… So why weren't they here? he couldn't help but wonder. Not that he was complaining, of course. He always appreciated a moment to double check his ammo before blasting his way out of a bad situation.
Yet, as he positioned himself and the seconds ticked by with nothing happening, the adrenaline began to bleed out of him. He continued to hold his prosthetic gun at the ready, though; he was confused, not stupid.
Without turning around, he asked Jessie, "What's going on?"
"I — I don't know," she replied, her voice a shrill stammer as she flipped through her tablet. "Honestly, just looking at this, it's almost like our IDs didn't flag the system."
"Then why did the alarms go off?" Biggs asked, a knife in one hand and a pistol in the other.
"I don't know!" Jessie chewed her thumbnail as her eyes flicked across the screen. "I mean, everything I see right here looks good. Status green, IDs working properly, no movement in the train converging on our location… It had to have been someone else."
Wedge scowled. "Someone else?" he echoed. "A stowaway?"
"Who would be stupid enough to get on the train without an ID," Barret asked, meaning for the question to be a rhetorical one, but then a body slammed against the window and Barret got his answer.
"Zack?!" Wedge shouted.
Barret considered himself a weathered individual, and truth be told, not much surprised him after all of the shit he had gone through. Yet here he was, eyes so wide they nearly ached, as a hundred questions slammed into each other in a chaotic mass collision with only one surviving thought: What the hell was that spikey hedgehog-head doing on the train?
"Stupid son of a…"
Zack apparently hadn't seen them, because he scrambled back to the roof of the car and out of side, leaving behind a hefty dent in his wake. Shinra operatives flew past in sporadic blurs as heavy footsteps slammed down on the car's roof. Barret could hear the rest of his team shouting something, but his mind had effectively derailed. This wasn't in the plan; in fact, Zack wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be… frolicking or some shit, not kicking Shinra's ass with the rest of them.
But now Barret had a decision to make, and his prosthetic gun felt heavier than normal as he debated if he should help the ex-SOLDIER or if he should just let the situation play out and his team continue with the mission as normal. Zack was the perfect distraction, to be fair. Given the amount of Shinra operatives heading in their direction, it was obvious that Zack's presence meant a thing or two to the higher ups.
Yet, he had to ask himself: Am I really the type of person that'll watch someone fight alone?
The answer, of course, was a resounding No.
Barret roughly carded a hand through his hair. "Being nice ain't good for my heart," he muttered under his breath before he turned back to his team, who were all watching him in wide-eyed anticipation. He looked at each of them in turn, then said, "Let's save his boney ass."
Even Jessie cracked a smile.
With that, Barret was out the door in a moment. As they were on the last train, open space and empty air assaulted him the moment he kicked the back door off its hinges. The sudden, sharp end of solid ground was enough to give him vertigo, but he ignored the toe-curling sensation and chose instead to haul himself up the nearby maintenance ladder.
As he climbed, a Shinra grunt slammed past him and onto the tracks below, screaming all the while. Barret almost felt sorry for the man as he pushed himself over the edge and onto the roof of the train car. Wind whipped past his face and tugged at his clothes.
Zack was standing nearby. A smear of blood darkened his temple, and there was a burn mark streaking his left thigh from a stray shot. He was staring at Barret with wide eyes before he seemingly collected himself.
"You!" Zack shouted, his tone accusatory.
Barret felt a vein throb in his neck. "Hell yeah, me!" he replied as he leveled his prosthetic gun not at Zack but past him, at the Shinra operatives who were crawling up one of the train cars a few sections away. He fired. Bullets pinged off of freshly-dented metal and he could feel each slam against his soul, hammering away at what little self-control he had left.
He knew a self-sacrificing move when he saw one, but that was usually his job, not other peoples'. Certainly not some dumbass kid who had more to lose than he realized.
"Damn you, Zack!" Barret found himself shouting, furious without quite knowing why. He continued to fire at the Shinra operatives. "What the hell are you doing out here, giving yourself up? You got people waitin' for ya!"
Zack had the decency to wince. "I… That's not important right now!"
"The hellit ain't!"
"You need to get to the Sector Seven plate's control panel!"
"The hell I do!" Barret shouted, shocked that spikey-head had the audacity to order him around. "And what about you, huh?" He fired his prosthetic gun, and each staccato blast punctuated his words. "What do you think you're doing, causing hell out here by yourself?" Each blast lit up the dark tunnel in a burst of white, and in that flickering strobe he could see Zack's expression shift from regret, to resolve, then something a shade darker.
"Just go," Zack replied as he pivoted, then used his momentum to slam his elbow in the back of a passing Shinra grunt. The helmeted man groaned before collapsing and sliding off the train's roof. "I got this taken care of, and you guys —" another pivot, another fallen soldier — "need to get to the control panel. Shinra's planning on dropping the plate," he added, now facing Barret fully. His sea-glass eyes narrowed. "You have to stop them before they do."
Once, Marlene had woken Barret up by splashing water on his face. He felt a lot like that now; the initial shock as the gravity of Zack's words slammed into him, the following chill of realization, the white shock as he blinked in response.
"And you?" Barret asked, pausing his onslaught for a moment. The tunnel seemed strangely quiet without the sound of gunshots ricocheting against the walls.
Zack grimaced. "I'm the distraction."
"Like hell you are."
"What?" Zack had the gall to look surprised for a moment, but then fury replaced his shock and he took a step forward. The air seemed to ripple around him; but no, it couldn't have, Zack didn't have any materia on him. "Don't play some bullshit friendship game with me," the ex-SOLDIER practically spit. "We're not friends. You don't like me, so don't pretend to care what happens after this. You need to leave," he enunciated, "and get to the control panel. I'll be the distraction so your team can get there safely."
As he spoke, another Shinra grunt made the mistake of igniting his shock baton and running at Zack while his back was turned. The moment he got close, Zack suddenly whirled and smashed in his helmet with a well-placed kick. There was a faint, choked grunt, and then Shinra infantryman bounced once against the train's roof before dropping down the other side.
Zack's shoulders were shaking from adrenaline, and his hands snapped into tight fists at his side. "Just go," he said again, and his voice was steady, even, immovable. "I can take it from here."
Barret felt a vein throb in his temple. "Oh, would you shut up with your melodramatic bullshit," he stated. Zack turned, blinking in surprise, but Barret wasn't done. "Let me guess. You think that the whole world is working against you. That it's your job to suffer so that no one else has to. Is that it?"
Zack's expression was unreadable, and he didn't respond.
Thought so, Barret thought smugly, and then he took a step forward. It pleased him further to notice that he was at least a few inches taller than Zack… not including that dumbass spiky hedgehog-hair of his. "Well, let me tell you a little somethin'," he continued in a low tone. "A friend of Tifa's is a friend of mine, no matter how stupid they may be, and that you don't get to decide who gets to save your sorry ass. Your job is to sit back, shut up, and be grateful that someone even gives a damn. Kapeesh?"
Zack shifted his glare to the far wall. His lips were pressed tightly together, so tight that they might bruise, and his eyes were a shade brighter than before. Finally, after a long, silent moment, he turned back to Barret with a ghost of a smile. "Has anyone told you that you talk too much?" he asked.
Barret grinned, feral and sharp. "Hell yeah."
"Barret!" Biggs' face suddenly popped up from back of the train car, and he squinted against the wind as he said, "More reinforcements incoming! Jessie says that we should bail!"
"But we're just gettin' started!" Barret shouted in response.
"No, Jessie is right," Zack said, taking a step forward. His posture seemed a little sturdier now; a little less hunched over, a little less tense. "If I remember correctly, the train tunnels are all linked together through a series of pipes. They were still being built the last time I was in Midgar, but we used some of the pipes for training exercises. I can still remember the general layout."
"We have computers for that, dumbass," Barret informed him, then turned back to Biggs. "All right, let's get going. We need to —"
But whatever he was going to say was cut off, because at that exact moment, the train tunnel collapsed in front of them. There was a piercing squeal as the train slammed on its breaks, and the following jolt was enough to send Barret to his knees. Debris rained down around them. Bits of scaffolding and iron plates cracked against the ground. Something cut deep into Barret's cheek, and he impatiently wiped it away only to stare at his hand, now streaked with blood.
"What the hell?" he managed to choke out, and then another violent shudder ripped through the train. It was strong enough to send him tumbling backwards, but a sudden hand on his wrist — Zack, he realized belatedly — stopped him from slipping off entirely.
Zack's lips quirked up despite the feral look in his eyes. "Dumbass," he said delicately.
"Oh, stuff it in a sock," Barret bit back, coughing on the smoke. "What the hell happened?"
"Are you okay, boss?" came a voice out the window — Jessie, Barret realized a second later.
"I'm good!" he hollered back. "You all good?"
"We're fine!" came Wedge's response. "Just… What happened? That felt bad."
Barret frowned. "I dunno," he muttered, lifting his head. It did feel bad, to put it lightly. "It felt like the train hit something…"
But then his voice trailed off, because that was exactly what had happened. A crimson, bulky mecha was crushing one of the train cars beneath its foot, and ashen light trickled in from the fresh hole in the tunnel's ceiling to reflect off of the mecha's sharp edges, its bladed arms, its iridescent plating. When it turned to face them directly, the movement was smooth and effortless.
"That's no prototype," Zack murmured at his side.
Barret couldn't help but agree. "Shit," he said, effectively summarizing their current situation.
The mech took a step towards them; the train car was further crushed beneath it and groaned as its metal rent and shifted. Barret's expression darkened when he heard faint screams echoing from somewhere inside.
He opened his mouth to say something about it — what, he had no idea, but he was certain it would come to him — when the mech's face shield suddenly hissed and opened, then slid down to reveal its occupant.
Zack went rigid beside him. "Scarlet," he hissed.
Scarlet, still seated, propped her head up on her closed fist. "That's right," she said in a low purr. "It's me. Though… you sound surprised."
"What are you doing here?" Zack demanded, taking a step forward. "You're supposed to be —"
"Supposed to be where, SOLDIER?" Scarlet interrupted, but then her lips cut upward. "Oh, but you aren't a SOLDIER, are you? You're not even an ex-SOLDIER really, not after what Hojo did to you. Maybe the term failed experiment would fit better, wouldn't you say?"
Failed experiment? Barret's brow furrowed and he glanced towards Zack, hoping for some sort of explanation, but the questions died on his throat because how could he possibly ask when Zack's expression looked like that? — like whatever spark of life he had a moment ago had died in his eyes and now he was simply a ghost, a shell haunted by the past, clinging to tortured memories like how a person clings to a live wire; not because they want to, but because they can't let go no matter how much they try.
And then Zack's expression shifted; that battered emptiness blazed to life and, buried in his mako-stained gaze, there was a wordless promise that he would tear Scarlet off her mech and kill her himself.
Scarlet's smile only sharpened. "Don't even think about it," she said, and then took a step forward on the train car. The ceiling sunk; the screams trapped inside grew louder. "You come with me, or I kill everyone here one step at a time. But not you," she added, his gaze narrowing on Zack. "From what I understand, you still have some unfinished business with Shinra. Hojo is very excited to work with you again."
Zack's body was coiled so tight that Barret was afraid that the tightest breeze would have him splintering. "Fuck off," he ground out.
"It's your choice," Scarlet said with a shrug, as if she didn't particularly care what they decided to do. She likely didn't. "But of course, I'm sure you're used to death by now, aren't you Zack? After all, look at how many people died at Nibelheim, and all because you were too powerless to stop him."
Barret's gaze flicked back to Zack, his gaze narrowed. What is she talking about?
"And now that I'm kind enough to give you a choice, you're choosing to sacrifice all of these people for… what? To be a hero?" The mech took another step forward, silencing one scream while dragging out another, and Scarlet's shrill laugh rose about it all. "Are you sure you want to try that again, after what happened last time?"
Zack looked like he'd been struck and, after a drawn-out, painfully moment, began lifting his hands in surrender.
But Barret reached forward and caught his wrist, stopping him. "The hell you doing," he hissed between clenched teeth. "You can't negotiate with her; she's probably gonna kill everyone anyway unless we stop her!"
Zack refused to look at him. "You can't promise that."
"No, but I sure as hell ain't gonna believe —"
"This isn't a game, Barret." Zack pried Barret's hand off of his wrist, and there was something in Zack's expression that had Barret letting him. "There's real consequences if we fuck it up. People could die, and that's… that's not something you can take back."
Barret suddenly had the feeling they weren't talking about the train. "Look kid, I don't know what happened in the past but you ain't there anymore. You can —"
A sudden hand around his shirt collar cut him off, and his gaze narrowed at Zack, who was now holding him still and breathing hard. "Shut up," Zack practically spit. "You don't know anything." Then, quieter: "I can't do that again, Barret. I just can't."
With that he pushed Barret away. Barret took a stumbling step backwards, but whatever retort he had been prepared to fire off faded away as Zack took a step forward towards Scarlet, hands raised in surrender, looking as if he was standing before the firing squad.
"You won," Zack said, looking directly at Scarlet. "I'll come willingly, as long as you let everyone go."
Scarlet leaned back in her chair. "Hmm… I supposed I can work with that. You have yourself a deal, Zack Fair." Some of the tension bled from Zack's shoulders at that, but then the mech snapped up its arm and there was a sudden burst of light.
"Zack!" Barret shouted. When the light cleared, Zack was on his back and pinned against the roof of the train car. Some sort of fist-sized orb dug into his chest and electricity snapped and cracked around the wound. Zack's body spasmed; his eyes were squeezed shut and his jaw were clenched so tight that Barret was afraid he'd bust a tooth. "Zack!" he shouted again, and then noticed that the mech was now pointing its arm at him.
"Goodbye, Barret Wallace," Scarlet said, and then there was another brilliant flash followed by a burst of pain.
The world went dark.
Nobody whispered through the Shinra Headquarters forty-ninth floor, otherwise known as the SOLDIER floor. It was barer than she remembered it being; less personnel wandered in and out of the training room, the materia development room was dark and unused, and the once-mission briefing room was now being used more for weapon storage.
In brief, the forty-ninth floor was a shell it had once been. After Sephiroth had turned traitor, the once seemingly unlimited funding for the SOLDIER program had all but dried up, and now there was hardly anything left to do but maintain what hadn't been broken or removed entirely. However, there were still signs of life: a still-warm pot of coffee, recent drawings on the whiteboard, a worn couch with a cup of water sitting nearby.
Not every SOLDIER had left. Many had stayed for the same reason as their predecessor: to be a hero or make a name for themselves. But not all. Some had stayed loyal for entirely different reasons… reasons that Nobody could exploit, use, take advantage of.
With that thought firmly in mind, she walked down one of the hallways and opened the room at the far end. It was occupied, as she knew it would be. The man in question was sitting down in front of his desk, his hands knotted in his wispy-brown hair as he glowered down at small journal that was overflowing with notes, map cutouts, circled locations.
The journal was slammed shut the moment Nobody opened the door, and then the SOLDIER shot to his feet, his expression tight and distrusting. He must have just returned from a shower; his white tank top was clean, and his dark sweat pants hung loosely around his hips.
He lost weight, Nobody noted, but pushed the thought from mind in order to push back the large hood she wore. "Hello, Kunsel."
The SOLDIER's eyes widened a fraction; first at the fact she knew his name, and then in recognition. "Wait, you're —"
Nobody lifted a finger to her lips, silencing him. "That's not my name anymore," she murmured. "I'm nobody."
"Nobody," Kunsel repeated, and then sat back down. His guard was up. Obviously, he didn't trust her. "Why would a Turk come visit me? I haven't done anything," he added, suspiciously. "I've done everything Shinra asked me to."
"I'm not here for that," Nobody replied. "I'm no longer a Turk."
Kunsel's gaze flicked back to her, and his brow was furrowed in confusion. "What?"
"And I'm here to ask for your help," Nobody continued, as if Kunsel had never spoken. "In fact, you need to come with me. Now."
Kunsel watched her for a moment, then shook his head, smiling humorlessly. "What could you," he said slowly, "possibly need from me? Another interview? I already told everyone what I know: Zack's dead, Cloud is too, and no, I'm planning on betraying Shinra in any capa —"
"Zack's alive."
The resulting silence was palatable. Kunsel raised his head to blink at her; he clearly heard what she had said, but his mind seemed to be having trouble processing. Finally, he managed a choked, "What…?"
"Zack and Cloud are alive," Nobody affirmed. "But they won't be for long unless you come with me."
Kunsel didn't need any further prompting; he was instantly on his feet, the chair clattering behind him. "Do I have time to put on my uniform?" he asked.
Nobody considered it. "Yes. You have ten minutes."
"I only need five," Kunsel replied and then he was out the door. She could hear his footsteps slap against the tiled floor as he ran down the hall.
The sound bolstered something within her, and she allowed herself a small smile. This time, she thought as she glanced out the room's small window, I'll protect you.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I've been looking forward to this one for a while, particularly introducing Kunsel :) There's not much known about him in canon (as opposed to Cloud & co), so it'll be fun exploring his character more and seeing what he'll be like in future chapters. Plus, shit is happening! I'm so thrilled.
Also (as some of you will definitely notice, lol) I took some creative liberties with Scarlet's mech. I personally thought that it was dumb how she just sat on top like it was a dining room chair, so I added an iridescent shield in front that can fully cover whoever is inside.
Feel free to visit my twitter - Rand0mSmil3z - if you'd like to see chapter previews and get a better idea of when I'll publish :)
Until next time!
