Hello! Long time no see?! 🌻
Thank you all for so patiently waiting for this chapter 😊 I ended up majorly changing the plot, and then last-second removed one of the POVs I had written that really didn't make sense anymore after I changed the plot, but that messed up a few other things so I had to go back and fix that, and... yeah. It was a process lol
As always, thank you to silver_doe287 for making this chapter readable 💙 and thank you to everyone for the comments & kudos - I know that I am super behind on replying to them, but I read every single one and they made my day every single time you're all the sweetest
Enjoy!
Shinra's military garage was just as dark and cold as Aerith had been expecting. Though the parking spaces themselves were packed with military vehicles such as motorcycles and all-terrain supply trucks, the high ceilings made the space feel both cold and empty, and she couldn't help feeling exposed as Kunsel effortlessly parked the bike. The lights were dimmer in the corner they were parked in than in the main garage, and her shadow stretched long across the stained concrete as she swung one leg over the bike and righted herself.
Her legs trembled from being locked in the same position for so long, but they supported her weight when she stretched out her back. She sighed as she felt something pop. The motorcycle was fun, but she decided that she preferred to travel by train or car. At least then she wasn't afraid of falling onto the road if she shifted her weight a fraction, and she wasn't at risk of swallowing a bug along the freeway or ruining her careful two-strand braid in the wind. Of course, she also didn't enjoy being boxed in on all sides… Well, she thought with another sigh. You win some, you lose some.
She handed her helmet to Kunsel and offered him a small grin at his serious expression. "Thanks for driving," she told him. Really, she meant, Thank you for not crashing and killing us both, but the sentiment was the same.
Kunsel dangled the spare helmet off of the bike's handlebar, and Aerith noted that he did not remove his own. Instead, he adjusted the neck strap and, clearing his throat, replied, "Anytime."
"So… now what?" Aerith glanced around the parking garage, but didn't see much besides an assortment of cars, vans, and armored trucks. Some were covered by a fine layer of dust, as if they hadn't been moved in years, while others were sleek and obviously modern. "I thought we were going to meet Nobody next. Is she here? Are we too early?"
Kunsel took a step forward so that he was standing beside her. "She should be here," he said, and Aerith could hear the frown in his tone. "She promised that she'd meet us right here, by the back emergency exit in Parking Garage C." Suddenly he paused, uncertain. "We're in Parking Garage C, right? Not B?"
Aerith leveled him with a flat look. "Why are you asking me?" she asked. "You're the one who drove us here."
"Right." A warm flush colored the exposed stretch of skin above his turtleneck. "Uh, I'm pretty sure this is it."
"You're pretty sure?"
"I'm sure," Kunsel corrected. "I'm positive."
Aerith placed her hands on her hips and gave him the mom look. "Kunsel," she said, "are you lost? Don't lie to me."
"What? Me? Lost? Absolutely not." Kunsel crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm a SOLIDER First Class, and we don't get lost in the field. That's impossible. The mako enhances our memory. We can memorize a complex map after seeing it just once."
"Uh-huh," Aerith deadpanned.
Kunsel's flush deepened. "So I am positive that we are in Parking Garage C," he continued. "There is no way we couldn't be. I would know if we weren't."
"And you're certain of this?"
"Yes." Kunsel said this with so much conviction that Aerith almost believed him. Almost. "We're definitely not lost."
"Uh-huh," Aerith said again, and it was only when she heard the distinct sounds of footsteps — which had both her and Kunsel stiffening — and a familiar voice saying, "You finally made it," that Aerith truly felt relieved.
"See?" Kunsel pitched his voice so only Aerith could hear him. "I told you that we weren't lost."
Aerith swallowed a laugh as she shook her head, and she didn't deign him a comment as Cissnei — No, she's Nobody now, Aerith corrected — strode up to them. Nobody walked so casually that if Aerith didn't recognize her tight expression and the stiff lines of her shoulders, she would have thought that she was coming to greet them.
"Good," Nobody continued as her copper gaze slid over them, as if she was assessing them for injuries or otherwise. "We need to hurry. A lot has happened since we last spoke."
The last time Aerith had spoken to Nobody had been back in Seventh Heaven when she had still been called Cissnei, and… yeah, Aerith could agree, a lot has changed since then. In fact, that could likely be considered the understatement of the century, right up there with Zack's small, I'm fine.
Kunsel straightened at Aerith's side. "What's going on?" he demanded. "What changed?"
"A lot," Nobody repeated as she gestured for them to follow. She guided them to a lonely stairwell tucked in the corner of the garage, the emergency exit Kunsel had mention a short few minutes ago. "Would you like to hear the good news," she asked, "or the potentially upsetting news?"
"The upsetting news," Kunsel immediately replied, but then he immediately turns towards Aerith with an apologetic air. She could see her warped reflection in his mirrored visor. "If that's okay with you."
Aerith nodded before turning back to Nobody. "Let's end on a good note."
Nobody's expression shuttered, but then she sighed. "The bad news it is, then. Where do I begin…" That was a worrisome way to start, but Nobody only tilted her head towards the ceiling, almost as if she was searching for clouds that were not there, before she began to speak again. "First and foremost, Cloud Strife has been captured by Hojo."
Aerith made a punched-out noise.
"He is in the laboratory now," Nobody continued, ignoring her, "and it has been confirmed that he's currently undergoing evaluations."
"What do you mean by… by evaluations?" Aerith demanded. The memory from Wall Market, when Cloud had overhead Reno mention Hojo over the phone, welled up in her mind and she had to close her eyes against it. He had been terrified then, and that had been miles away from Hojo. If he was forced to be in the same room as him…
Nobody's eyes were clouded by some sort of emotion, something deep and unspeakably dark, before she looked away and pointedly did not answer the question. Instead she said, "Moving on, Tifa Lockhart has been injected with a tranquilizer that had been meant for Cloud Strife."
"She what?"
Like before, Nobody ignored Aerith's outburst. "Tifa is currently unconscious, but her situation is stable. She has been turned over to Turk custody, is being provided medical treatment, and is being held in one of Shinra's holding cells on the upper floors. However—" Nobody suddenly held up three fingers, as if alluding to a third bit of bad news, "prior to reclaiming her, we will first need to work quickly to stabilize the situation that is currently developing."
Leather groaned as Kunsel's hands formed tight fists. "And what is that 'situation', exactly?"
Nobody paused and shot Aerith an apologetic look before turning away. Aerith's stomach twisted. "Zachary Fair," Nobody said, pointedly looking only at Kunsel, "is currently being escorted to President Shinra's office."
"President Shin… Why?" Kunsel demanded. His voice whipped against the concrete walls, cold and hot all at once. "What's their objective?"
Nobody pursed her lips and opened the stairwell door. The rusty hinges screeched through the garage and bounced across the high ceilings and packed walls, and when it faded, all Aerith could hear was her heart thudding wildly in her ears. She clasped her clammy hands in front of her.
"The objective," Nobody finally replied, "is to assassinate President Shinra in order to usher his son, Rufus Shinra, into power."
Kunsel made a choking sound.
"Zack is in agreement with this plan, as long as Tseng upholds his end of the bargain," Nobody continued. "Zack should arrive at Shinra's office in the next thirty minutes or so, and—"
She was cut off by Aerith's grabbing her sharp jacket blazer, and the padded shoulder material bunched in Aerith's tight grip as she demanded, "What bargain? Zack… Zack would never agree to something like that. He already said he wasn't going to kill someone just because the Turks asked…" But then a new thought occurred to her, one that had her thoughts spinning out of orbit, and her grip on the other woman's jacket loosened. "Unless…"
"Unless Cloud was in danger," Nobody finished. She made no move to pry Aerith's hand off her. "Tseng is aware of their trauma-induced codependency as well as Zack's hero complex, and that brings us to where we are now: Cloud is currently in Hojo's laboratory, while Zack is on his way to Shinra's office."
Aerith suddenly couldn't get enough air in her lugs. Tseng had… to Zack… A choked gasp scratched at her throat as her entire body rebelled at the thought. No, that's impossible, she thought, and the memory of her lips on Zack's many scars flickered across her mind. There were tears in his eyes as she soothed them all, one by one. He had been trembling beneath her. He had been crying, and for Tseng to blackmail him and manipulate him and use his kindness against him…
It's too cruel, she thought, and she dropped her hand from Nobody's blazer as if it burned. Heat pricked her eyes as she turned away. She pressed one of her hands against her lips to the point of bruising, yet her strangled, half-gasping sobs slipped through her fingers anyway. There's no way… No one could be that cruel.
Kunsel bristled beside her. "You're saying that the Turks planned everything from the start?"
Nobody nodded, expressionless. "Not all of the Turks, but for all intents and purposes… Yes. But don't forget that we have done far worse things," she added, this time with a small, sad smile. "Once upon a time, we replaced an entire town just because it exposed one of Shinra's secrets."
"Replaced," Kunsel echoed.
"All of the buildings, all of the people, the landscaping… we even replaced the local livestock with the same breed, color, and number as before. So you see—" she turned to Aerith— "ruining a single man isn't very difficult for us at all."
Aerith lowered her hand, tasting copper. "You," she began, but she suddenly couldn't find the words to say. No words she knew, no known phrase or description in a dictionary, could accurately convey the disgust that was currently swarming beneath her skin like bees…
… And then something within her snapped.
"How could you?" Aerith demanded, and her voice carried within the stairwell like a siren's echo. She didn't care. "Zack isn't just some random person you met on the street! You used to work together. You used to be friends. He trusted you," she added, and the word trust was a glass shard in her throat, cutting all the while. "And worse, you already knew what he's been through, what he's lived through, and you knew how badly he was hurting, so how…" Her chest heaved. "How could you do this to him?"
"I know," Nobody whispered.
Aerith's eyes flashed. "You know?"
"I know," Nobody repeated, "and it's horrible, isn't it? What we're capable of," she clarified. "But remember… I left the Turks. I should have died for it, for being a traitor to the team and betraying our joint mission, but Tseng spared my life. He didn't have to. In fact, it would probably have made his life far easier if he hadn't, but now I owe him. And now I want to save him," she added, "even if that means saving him from himself."
"And you think he deserves it despite of everything," Aerith deadpanned. It wasn't a question, and a part of her recoiled in horror at her own words — words that were harsh, and crude, and unsympathetic. Words that she never thought she could be capable of thinking, let alone tell another person, but her self-control was a fraying seam and she was ripping at the threads. Soon, she figured, she would unravel completely. But later. Hopefully later. She was far too busy to fall apart now.
"It's not a matter of whether he deserves it," Nobody said simply. "He saved my life."
"And Zack has saved countless lives," Aerith retorted, but managed to bite her tongue before she could add, Including mine. Every day they were together he had saved her, effortlessly and unknowingly, completely unaware of how alive he made her feel. Tseng, on the other hand… he had watched over her for a time, yes, and he had graciously carried her letters for her, but… but this, this betrayal, this horror, had cut her to her quick.
Nobody gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry," she said, "but no matter what you think of me, I am going to help Tseng regain himself. I don't expect you to understand," she continued before Aerith could get a word in, "and I am not seeking your approval or forgiveness. But my choice still stands."
An emotion that Aerith could not immediately identify welled up within her, hot and bitter and consuming. She felt it pool in her gut and slosh through her veins in a heady rush that made her head spin, and then she realized: Oh. This was anger, and yeah she was angry, angrier than she could ever remember being. What Tseng had done to Zack… What Nobody was planning on doing…
Why couldn't they just leave Zack alone?
She took a few deep breaths to right herself, and when she had somewhat recovered, she returned her attention back to the conversation happening beside her.
"— need to continue this conversation another time," Kunsel was saying, and his voice sounded unnaturally loud in the stairwell. "For now we need to stick with the mission and get moving before someone from Shinra stumbles on us, but we will be continuing this conversation," he added, his posture rigid. "You mentioned a few concerning topics just now, topics that I'd like to know more about."
Nobody inclined her head. "All right. I suppose that's fair. Later, then."
"Later," Kunsel agreed, though he sounded as if he had just bitten into something stunningly bitter. "So what now? You brought us here, so I'm assuming you have some kind of plan."
Aerith crossed her arms across her chest, also curious as to what this plan entailed.
"Our objective is straight forward," Nobody said. "Kunsel, you need to go to the holding cells and free the following individuals: all of the members from Avalanche's splinter cell, Tifa Lockhart —"
"Tifa?" Aerith could hear the frown in Kunsel's tone; strangely enough, it was her name elicited a reaction out of him rather than Avalanche. "Isn't Tifa Lockhart Cloud's girl?"
Nobody's lips curved into a grin. "You know of her?"
"He… ah, might have mentioned her once or twice, back when he was still working under me in the infantry."
Must have been more than once or twice if you remember her name, Aerith thought with a ghost of a smile, but kept her opinion to herself. Instead, she turned to Nobody and asked, "And what about me?"
"We're going to go to Shinra's office to apprehend Tseng and Zack before they arrive," Nobody replied. "Then, if we are unable to do so, then we assist in their escape."
"Won't they know we're coming?"
"Tseng believes that I am going to free Tifa Lockhart and the others from confinement," Nobody stated. "He won't expect to see me — or you, for that matter — in Shinra's office. In fact," she added, "Tseng does not know either of you are assisting me at all."
Aerith wasn't sure how she felt about that, but she pushed it out of mind. How she felt no longer mattered. "But what about Cloud?" she asked. "If he's in Hojo's laboratory, then we need to get him out as quickly as possible. Plus if he's free," she suddenly realized, "then Zack won't have to listen to anything Tseng says. So the sooner we get him out, the better. I can…" But then her thoughts stumbled, because what could she possibly do? She couldn't abandon Zack, not now, not after everything Nobody had told her. But at the same time, she was also desperately fond of Cloud — albeit in a very different way than she was fond of Zack — and she couldn't abandon him either. Zack, of course, would have told her to go to Cloud if he was here, but since he wasn't…
What do I do? she wondered, a bit hopeless.
"Unfortunately, you can't go to the laboratory unescorted," Nobody suddenly said, sparing Aerith from her spiraling thoughts. "You don't have the correct identification card — or any identification, really — and so if you want to get through the building, you'll have to go with either myself or Kunsel. You're free to go with Kunsel if you wish," Nobody continued, "but I placed you with me, as I thought you would want to go to Zack."
"I do," Aerith replied immediately. She wanted to see Zack more than anything, but at the same time… "What about Cloud? We can't just leave him there."
"I'll get Cloud," Kunsel interjected. Though his helmet hid his expression, his voice had a hard edge to it that dared the others to disagree. "He's in Hojo's laboratory, right? I have access to that floor — all First Class SOLDIERS do due to all of the physical exams we have to go through — so it would be no trouble for me to stop there first."
Aerith just about sighed with relief because of course Kunsel could save Cloud, but her relief wilted as Nobody raised her head and said, "No."
Kunsel bristled. "You don't have authority over me."
"It doesn't matter. No," Nobody said again. "You need to go to the holding cells and free the prisoners there, because that floor will be the first to go into lockdown if the President is made known. There is an incredibly high chance that will happen, and it continues to go higher the longer we stand here," she added with a pointedly, "and you know better than most about what happens to Shinra's prisoners during a lockdown."
Aerith could tell by Kunsel's rigid posture and tightly-clenched fists that he was displeased.
"What happens to the prisoners?" Aerith asked, if only because her curiosity demanded it.
Nobody gave her a flat look. "They're disposed of," she stated. "Wutai spies are not tolerated in Midgar and are executed when found."
Wutai spies? "But Barret and Tifa and the rest of them aren't—"
"That doesn't matter," Nobody cut in. "Do you think Shinra really cares about a handful of people from the slums? If anything, a lockdown under threat of violence is just an excuse to get rid of a few more."
Aerith swallowed whatever protests she had been preparing. No, she supposed that Shinra didn't really care about the people of the slums at all. Today's events, such as the planned plate drop, proved it beyond any measure of doubt.
"Besides," Nobody mercilessly continued, "we will need Barret Wallace and the rest to help extract Cloud from the laboratory. Due to Zack Fair's earlier escape from the laboratory, courtesy of Tseng, security has tightened considerably on levels sixty-five and sixty-six. I'm afraid it's going to be much more difficult to rescue Cloud this time around."
"We'll make it work," Aerith assured.
"We will," Kunsel agreed, and then glanced up the stairwell to the distant ceiling, so distant it was little more than a pinprick in the dark. "Speaking of, let's move. The sooner we get this done, the better I'll feel."
"Likewise," Nobody commented, and soon they were hurrying up the stairwell to whatever lay beyond.
Sensations slipped across Cloud's consciousness like oil slick over water, and though he could catch snatches of feeling — a hard surface against his back, a sudden chill against his skin, a sharp prick against his finger — everything he did feel made him want to curl up and hide. Whatever bravado he had managed to scrape together during the day had quickly collapsed into something far more familiar and far deeper-rooted:
Fear.
It numbed him as a mumbling voice echoed near his head. A light shone down from somewhere high above him, and he instinctively tensed despite being only semi-conscious. Even though his mind had forgotten Hojo's laboratory, his body certainly remembered: his fingers twitched uselessly at his side, his breath hitched in his throat, his chest rattled with every aching breath. Bone-deep dread was like blood in his mouth, warm and oily, and it sat heavily in his gut, festering there, a brackish boil that had him shivering against the steel slab he had been strapped onto.
"Oh?" A nasally voice somewhere above him cut through his nerves. "The vitals spiked. It looks like our specimen is beginning to wake up."
Cloud knew that voice. He knew that voice, and with feral desperation he wished that he could sink back down into unconsciousness, that he could wrap himself up its in comforting dark and just… sleep for a while, until everything was over, until he could wake up in a better place. He wasn't ready to face Hojo yet. He would never be ready. If only Zack was —
Yet the moment the thought bubbled up in his mind, Cloud choked it at its root. Zack's not here, he savagely reminded himself, and then he opened his eyes into the stinging light. I'm not that weak. I — his gaze flicked to Hojo — can save myself.
Hojo was standing over him with an almost excited grin, and Cloud's lips slashed upwards in a harsh rendition of a smile. "Nice nose," he croaked.
Hojo's expression immediately slipped into something sour. "I see you've picked up Sample Z's poor taste in humor," the scientist commented, and he made a note on his clipboard.
Cloud tried to ignore that harsh scratch of graphite on paper, tried not to be overly concerned with what Hojo was writing, tried not to guess what he was planning for him or what the next few hours — days? weeks? — would consist of. His stomach twisted at the thought. He thought he was going to be sick. Then he realized that he couldn't move his arms — he couldn't move his fucking arms — and a sharp, brittle laugh pushed out of his throat, because of course he couldn't.
"So now what?" he finally asked, his voice savage and hoarse and creaking. "More experiments? Gonna put me in a mako tank? Or…" He faltered, his imagination providing far more content than he was willing to think about right now. Because, honestly, Hojo could do anything to him. There were no rules that the man scientist wouldn't break, no lines he wouldn't cross, and Cloud wouldn't be able to do a thing about it because he couldn't fucking move.
Black spots swam in his vision like ink bleeding across paper; like the night spilling across a barren landscape; like the time he had nearly drowned in the Nibelheim's lake, and dark water had completely choked off the distant sunlight. It had been so quiet back then.
It was not quiet now.
"The specimen's heart rate is spiking," commented a laboratory assistant. Some machinery was screaming, a shrill cry that sounded impossibly far away. "Heart rate reaching one hundred fifty rpms. One hundred six… No, one hundred seventy now. Continuing to climb."
"It doesn't matter, just administer the desflurane," came Hojo's voice amid the piercing shrieks. "We can't have this one escaping too and taking out half of our department in the process."
Cloud tilted his head towards Hojo, his attention snagging. This one? But even as his mind grappled with that choice of words, his thoughts skittered towards the second half of Hojo's concerning statement: Half of the department? What does that mea…
"Concentration?" the lab assistant asked, effectively skewering Cloud's thoughts.
"Fifteen percent," was the response.
"Fift…" the assistant began, but his note of surprise quickly faded into passivity. "Yessir. Of course, sir. Administering now."
No no no no no no no —
Cloud couldn't help but flinch when something cold was strapped over his nose and mouth.
— no no no no no no no —
The panic that had been constantly bubbling beneath his skin grew into something feverish and boiling, and he tried to thrash, tried to rip the mask off and throw it across the room, but his fingers only twitched uselessly at his side.
— no no nononononono —
A strangled sound escaped his lips as the mask was secured in place, and an acrid scent immediately assaulted him.
— nononononononononnnnn —
"Double check the perimeter," Hojo was saying, but as he spoke his voice grew warped, indistinct, a mere tangle of syllables and half-butchered words. "No, Heidegger doesn't need to get involved. Sample Z couldn't have gotten very far, not in his condition, and I'm sure you are fully capable of finding him."
Cloud blinked as the world spun sickeningly around him. Thoughts came and went, disjointed and rapidly fading; even so, he distantly knew that Sample Z referred to Zack, and something damp and hot streaked down his cheek as the ceiling lights danced above him, a delicate ballet that was so at contrast with the adrenaline pounding beneath his skin.
If he closed his eyes, would he wake up in a better place?
… Probably not. But he closed his eyes anyway. He was just… tired, so so tired, and maybe if he just rested for a bit he could —
Hello, Cloud. A familiar voice welled up from somewhere within him, low and strangely soothing, cutting him off. Cloud's eyes fluttered open. Want me to save you?
"Go 'way," he slurred. "I ca… can save mmm… myself."
The light that was shining down on him was suddenly cast in shadow, and a voice — one that had him cringing — said, "Not out yet, are you? Give him another five percent."
Cloud's hands twitched at his side as horror swelled up within him… but then immediately dissipated, thrown out with nowhere to go, leaving him feeling confused and strangely empty. He couldn't remember what he was so afraid of. All he was aware of was that the air tasted strangely metallic and that his body felt incredibly heavy. And why couldn't he move? That wasn't right, he needed to move, he needed — he needed…!
Want me to save you? came the voice again.
Cloud's eyelashes fluttered as he fought to stay conscious. Something pricked the side of his neck, and a strangled noise bubbled past his lips. "Sss…Ssssaaaveee…"
"Save you?" said the greasy voice above him. A dry laugh followed. "Sample Z isn't here to save you this time."
Immediately, and of their own volition, his lips pulled back into a smile. The voice above him went silent.
"Good boy," Cloud heard himself say, the words gurgling out of his throat all on their own. There was a flutter in his chest. It felt like a heartbeat. It felt foreign, yet before he could fully comprehend the horror, his body spasmed and the world flickered into shades of green. His vision cleared. Now he could clearly see the laboratory assistant's terror-filled eyes and Hojo's look of abject horror, and something dark yawned open within him at the sight.
One of his arms snapped out and he felt his fingers wrap around a stiff neck before tightening. There was a choke. A gasp. Fingernails dug into the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, but it didn't matter in the slightest. He squeezed, squeezed until he both felt and heard a dull crunch beneath his palms, and then there was a silence. No; not silence. Heavy breathing filled the air. A body hit the ground with a dull thud. There was the soft slap of bare feet touching the floor and — oh, that was his feet, he could dimly feel the chill even if he didn't know where he was going or why.
Something within his mind shuttered at the thought, a sense of wrongness that drifted across his being like heat from a fire, but it was snuffed out as quickly as an ember in the rain. And it was raining, he thought; his face felt wet and hot, but he wasn't entirely sure why. Thoughts flittered through his mind like spring clouds, little more than a misting wisp that dissipated as quickly as it had come.
Then he felt a prick in his neck. It was as if someone had taken his skin and pitched it between their nails, so quick that he hardly noticed, and yet his body reacted anyway. His arm flew upwards and his elbow connected with something solid — but no, not solid anymore, he felt it give way and then everything went soft beneath his blow. A warm stickiness sprayed his forearm. A body slumped into him, and he felt its weight before he simply let it slide off onto the ground below. It remained still at his feet and he stared, uncomprehending, unsure who that was or how it got there.
But mostly, he didn't think bodies were supposed to be so still. Once again a sense of wrongness skidded through him, but it was quickly silenced in favor of blissful quiet. But no, it wasn't quiet, now was it? It was something else. Something deeper. Something more similar to nothing, because what else could that hollow emptiness within him be? He had been hollowed, carved out with a blunt spoon, and there was nothing left to fill the void.
Don't worry, Cloud. A smile broadened in his mind, all teeth and sharp edges and slitted eyes. I'm here.
Cloud's eyelashes fluttered and suddenly he was standing in front of a door. Uneasiness flickered through him — he didn't remember getting here, didn't remember turning around, didn't remember walking — but his uncertainty was smoothed away just as easily as his mother used to smooth back his hair.
Mother, his mind echoed, and the world flickered a strange shade of green.
The smile within his mind widened. That's right, said the voice. We're going to find Mother.
A sense of rightness settled within Cloud's chest, and he felt himself take a shambling step forward.
"You already know what you need to do."
Tseng's words filtered through Zack's mind like a poison: sluggish and slow, yet they had a sharp enough bite to send his lungs painfully contracting and his thoughts going fuzzy on the edges. His mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He thought he could taste metal. Images flickered behind his wide-open eyes, images that involved mako baths and needles and disjointed laughter.
He nodded anyway.
Zack and Tseng had arrived at the private elevator that would take them — or rather, would take Zack, as Tseng was leaving him here in favor of Hojo's laboratory — up to President Shinra's office. The elevator was situated outside of the building, and its glass frame gave a stunning view of the Midgar skyline and the red canyons that cut serrated edges along the city's borders. The sun was quickly sinking into the jagged horizon, and the sky was streaked with red and gold. Zack thought that its reflection against the elevator doors looked a bit like warm blood.
Everything seemed to remind him of blood these days.
He swallowed past the bitter bile rising in his throat and stepped onto the elevator, if only because hesitating had never been in his nature, but then he paused. Turning to look over his shoulder, he leveled Tseng with a harsh look and said, "Save Cloud." Because if Tseng didn't — if the Turk failed — then all of this would be meaningless. All of that blood lost would have been for nothing. It would make this walk through hell just that, a walk through hell with no other destination, and he wasn't sure if he could live with that. "Promise me. You have to save him. You — You have to get him out of there, no matter what."
An emotion of some sort flickered across Tseng's face before the Turk bent at the waist, and it took Zack a belated moment to realize it was a bow. Strangely enough, it somehow settled Zack's frazzled nerves. No one had ever bowed to him before.
"I promise," the Turk vowed.
Zack jerked his head into a semblance of a nod. "You better," he gruffly replied, and then — before he could change his mind — he slammed the button that had the elevator doors hissing shut, then the button that would take him to the top. The elevator gave a stomach-lurching jerk before it began to move, and a happy, bubbly tune filtered through the speakers. The cheerful melody was so out-of-place that Zack almost laughed out loud. But all he managed a choked sort of wheeze as he stumbled backward until his shoulders hit the glass wall, a hard enough hit that pain flared across his back, hard enough that the tears he had been fighting down all this time pricked his eyes with heat. He buried his face into his hands and raggedly inhaled. Every breath was like sandpaper in his throat.
I'm fucked.
He was well and truly fucked because people didn't… People didn't just assassinate President Shinra. It didn't happen. It just didn't. People had tried, people from Wutai in particular, and every single one had failed. President Shinra controlled armies, literally. He had started the SOLDIER program and funded the entire Wutai War, and he had more security measures than the top ten executives of Shinra Inc. combined. This was a futile endeavor. It was a suicide mission. Security would be alerted the moment he stepped into Shinra's office and that would be the end of it. The moment the elevator stopped, he would be killed… or worse.
As he well knew, there was far worse things than dying.
Zack dragged his hands down his face, pulling roughly against the sensitive skin, before his arms fell limp at his side. His gaze dropped to the floor, but he stared at nothing. The cheerful music continued to dance through the elevator.
I'm not leaving this building alive, he knew, and then he realized: I'm the distraction.
Zack's head jerked up.
I'm the distraction, he mentally echoed, and a wet, hysterical chuckle bubbled up from his throat. Of course he was the distraction. What else could he possibly be? What else was he good for, as broken and battered as he was?
It didn't matter if he assassinated President Shinra or not.
If it didmatter, then Tseng would have escorted Zack to the office himself just to make sure the job was done. But, because it didn't matter, Zack was going up alone with nothing but his Buster Sword and shitty elevator music for company. Hell, now that he thought about it, he probably didn't even need to go to the Shinra's office. He was an MIA ex-SOLDIER First Class who was now wandering loose in Shinra headquarters, and if that alone wasn't enough of a distraction for Tseng to do whatever he was doing, then Tseng wasn't…
Then he wasn't…
Ice trickled down Zack's spine, and he suddenly couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat because he couldn't help but wonder: Is Tseng really going to save Cloud? Tseng had promised that he would, and had even bowed to him, but… but how much was that promise worth, really? Hadn't Cissnei told him that Tseng had given up on protecting Cloud ever since he became a hot target with a bounty on his head? Why would Tseng suddenly care now, when he didn't before? And hadn't Tseng wanted his freedom? If Tseng was willing to give up Zack's life for his freedom, then who's to say that he wouldn't give up Cloud too?
What if he just mentioned that he was going to save Cloud just so that he could keep Zack in line?
"Oh my god," Zack breathed. Suddenly the glass walls felt too close; the upward descent seemed too long; the ground was too far away. Panic singed his nerves and heated his veins. He was dimly aware that his hands were shaking. "Oh my god."
Tseng wasn't going to save Cloud. He was going to leave him in that laboratory to die while he did whatever Turk mission he had to do. But not before he made sure that Zack would be provided amble distraction, of course. All of this was a sham. He was being manipulated, used as a weapon, ordered around like he was expendable, just another means to the end, and… and…!
And Zack suddenly wanted to vomit.
That bastard.
He wasn't sure when he had crossed the elevator floor, and he couldn't remember when he had slammed his fist into the seam between the doors. His knuckles tore against the metal, but he didn't feel the hot blood spill across his fingers. He didn't see the bright red drip onto the floor. He didn't feel the pain lance up his bones and singe his nerves. Instead he felt numb, numb and hollow and scared out of his mind, because Cloud needed him and he wasn't there.
He hadn't changed at all from back then. Even now, despite everything, he was just following other people's orders and hoping for the best.
He was such an idiot.
He arched his arm back and slammed his fist into the wall again, and this time it gave a satisfying groan as the elevator doors were pushed outward, just enough so that he could wedge his fingers into the crack and push. Metal squealed as he pulled the doors out of alignment, his jaw clenched and muscles straining until he could feel the cold wind tug against his hair and sting his eyes.
An alarm began to blare above him, cutting off the earlier happy song. "The west-wing elevator has malfunctioned," it told him in between sirens. "Please remain calm while help arri—"
Zack ripped the Buster Sword off his back and cut the speaker right off of the ceiling. It fell to the ground with a hollow thud, the severed wires sparking all the while, and then he returned his attention back to the hole he was rapidly ripping open after he had returned the sword onto his back. Beyond the hole was the outer wall of the Shinra building, which he had no way into, and it suddenly occurred to him that maybe he should have put a little more effort into his plan.
Oh well. Too late now.
His lips lifted in a grinning snarl, and he reached forward to rip the doors entirely off. It was difficult but he managed, and his forehead was coated in a sheen of sweat by the time he pried the doors loose. He watched them free-fall for a second before returning his attention back to the Shinra building's outer wall, which he still wasn't sure how he'd get into.
And then he noticed the glass windows.
Zack blinked at them, then blinked again, and his grinning snarl widened in realization. The windows were bullet-proof — hell, they could even be rocket-proof — but they weren't Zack-proof. He had cut bullets in half and had caught rockets in his hands, and he was certain that the window wouldn't pose any sort of threat. What was one window compared to escaping a lab? Surviving the wilds for a year? Living with himself afterwards?
Zack eased himself out of the elevator. The wind tussled his hair and pulled at his clothes, and he was distantly aware that the ground was really fucking far as he balanced himself along the seam between the elevator and the wall. He could hear the elevator groaning as it swayed on its metal ropes, and he grit his teeth against the sound as he shimmied towards the window.
He peered into the glass pane and let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. The room — a lobby, by the looks of it — had emptied for the night: the lights had been dimmed, the couches and tables were all empty, and the food services had been shuttered and locked down.
Zack's exhale whistled between his teeth as he knocked back his elbow and slammed it into the window. The entire pane warbled but didn't crack, as expected, so he carefully snapped his Buster Sword off of its back holster and smashed the butt of its hilt into the glass.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And again, his split knuckles throbbing with every strike, until cracks spider-webbed from the focal point and fragmented shards rained to the distant ground.
With the sixth strike, the glass had shattered entirely, and Zack was able to ease himself into the room. His shoulders sagged with relief from the tearing wind and the feeling of solid ground beneath his boots, but the relief didn't last long. An alarm cut out of the silence, a shrieking wail that had him instinctively clapping his hands over his ears, and with it came a blaring voice:
"Intruder alert! Intruder alert! Intruder alert! All units, mobilize to the—"
Zack stopped listening. He turned and bolted, unsure of exactly what floor he was on or how he could get to the laboratory Cloud was in, not to mention that Tseng had also said that he wouldn't be able to get there due to 'lacking the necessary security credentials' or some similar bullshit. But Tseng was also a master manipulator and filthy liar. Besides, Zack had already escaped from one lab already, and he sure as hell didn't have any proper identification then. Hell, now that he thought about it, he didn't have any identification. He had lost all his papers after Nibelheim.
Strangely enough, that's what had him giggling in short, aborted chuckles that felt like broken glass against his ribs. His eyes pricked with heat. His hands were still shaking.
"Fuck," he breathed as he ran. His first stop was to find an elevator — No, not an elevator, he thought with a harsh pivot left, the stairs would be much better — and that had him skidding down one hallway and turning the corner down another. He startled someone from the cleaning department in one turn, and their shrill scream chased him through several meetings rooms until he reached the emergency stairwell. The door was locked, of course, but Zack slashed through it easily enough. It wasn't bullet-proof tempered glass, after all.
In between his ragged pants, he thought he could hear footsteps. He thought he could hear their weight against the floor and, distantly, he thought he could make out the crisp click of dozens of guns being locked into position. Their scopes would be pointed down on him. He could almost feel the burn of their aim-assist lasers digging into his arms, his chest, his back, his legs, and the air tasted hot and stale as he inhaled a ragged breath.
He felt as if he was about to die, and yet he couldn't remember ever feeling more alive.
He ducked into the stairwell. The number 68 had been painted against the wall in black paint, so he began sprinting down to the below level. His boots slipped on one of the steps and he crashed shoulder-first into the wall below, but he bit back a pained grunt and instead scrambled back onto his feet and tore down the next stairwell as quickly as the first. Hojo's laboratory was spread across the sixty-fifth and sixty-sixth floors, and so that was his destination. First he'd go to the sixty-sixth floor, and if Cloud wasn't there, then he'd go one floor lower and rip it apart like the first.
Wait. A sudden thought had him skidding to an abrupt stop. Tseng said that Cloud wouldn't be there yet, that it would take Hojo almost an hour to get Cloud to the labs, and it's only been — Zack suddenly realized he had no idea how much time had passed since Tseng had gotten him out the labs — it hasn't been that long, so he may not even be there yet, and…
… Except, he quickly reminded himself, Tseng is a liar, and Cloud could be there now, hurting now, and what if he's asking for me but I'm not there?
The thought had Zack's throat tightening painfully. When they had both woken up at the laboratory the first time, Cloud would have nightmares: sometimes he'd ask for Zack or Tifa in his sleep, but mostly he'd just beg for his mom. He'd sob for her, and then he'd wake up screaming about fire and smoke. But towards the end, he had only asked for Zack in his fitful dreams. And then he couldn't ask for anyone at all.
Zack's hands tightened into fists, and warm blood dripped down his abused knuckles as he resumed his descent to floor sixty-six. The white-hot panic that had laced through him had cooled into something harder, something firmer, something far more brittle and far more jagged. It cut against him with every ragged gasp. His foot slipped on one of the stairs and he felt something pull in his ankle, but it didn't matter. He only filed the injury and all of his other minor hurts away for later review, before he stopped in front of the door that led out to the sixty-sixth floor.
The door was locked, of course. There was a place to swipe a keycard beside it, and its screen lit up as if it had detected activity. However, the screen is grayed out with a vibrant red no-trespassing icon stamped over it, which could only mean one thing:
The building was on lockdown.
And Zack literally could not give less of a shit.
Something feral yawned open within him. It consumed him, a raging emotion that had static hissing through his mind, so he first smashed the keycard with his fist and then used his Buster Sword to cut down the door. It took several awkward attempts as the stairwell was too thin to properly swing the sword around, but his desperation made up for what momentum could not, and soon the door was little more than scrap metal at his feet. He stepped over it, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead and chilling his back, as he made his way into the hall…
… only to come face-to-face with a group of Shinra infantrymen. There were at least six in the group. The front two were crouched on one knee while the back four were standing over them, and all six had their rifles aimed for his chest.
It was a nostalgic feeling, and Zack's lips lifted in a sharp smirk. The air, once again, tasted hot and stale. "You're going to need at least an entire squadron to take me down," he told them.
"You," one of the infantryman said, and the syllable sounded as if it had been punched out of him. His rifle wavered in the air. "I… I know you."
Zack cocked his head to the side. "Hm?" His fingers itched against the Buster's Sword hilt, and he was suddenly all-too aware that this was delaying him, that if he was going to save Cloud, then he needed to leave now.
But the infantryman was still talking, damn him. "You're Zack Fair, the First-Class SOLDIER," he continued, as if that was impressive information. "You… You were a hero in the Wutai War, except they said that you went missing in action, and… And what are you doing here? Sir?" He tacked on the sir at the end as an afterthought, as if he was afraid that Zack would get offended at the lack of formalities. "I… We should get Kunsel. Kunsel would want to know you're here."
Kunsel? Zack's eyed widened imperceptibly, and for a single heartbeat he wondered if he should find Kunsel. Kunsel was a good guy. He would help him, and they had always worked well together, but… no. No, that was a terrible idea. The less people he dragged into his fucked-up life the better, and so he only shifted his weight to his other foot and cracked another grin. "Kid," he said, "how old are you?"
The infantryman stilled. "Um, I'm fifteen, sir."
At his feet, one of the crouching infantryman hissed, "Why are you answering him? He's the intruder," which earned him a faint shove from the infantryman at his side and a harsh, "He can't be an intruder, he's Zack."
"I'm the intruder," Zack cut in, because this was pathetic and really couldn't go on any longer. He wasted enough time as it was. "And you all need to listen to me. Shinra is a den of wolves, and kids like you don't belong in a place like this. Pack your bags. Go home. Stay with your families," he added, and tried to ignore the way his heart lurched at families, "and don't come back. And next time…"
He took a blurred step forward, and with his next breath he was standing behind the line of infantrymen. He could hear their sharp intakes of breath as they whirled around but they were too slow, far too slow, the last group had been much quicker.
"…Next time," he continued, "you should shoot first and ask questions later."
The infantryman that had first spoken up took a haltering step forward. "What do you—" he began, but his voice is cut off when Zack chopped his neck with his hand. The infantryman crumbled to the ground, boneless, and the other five went down just as quickly. Zack did not check their pulses as he turned and walked away.
They thought I was some hero, he thought with bitter amusement, and there was really only one reason for that: Shinra must have covered up his disappearance with a story of their own. Which… didn't make sense, really. The infantrymen outside of Midgar had been more than happy to gun him down, so why hadn't these?
…Well, it doesn't matter, Zack decided as he rounded a corner, moving so quickly that his boots skid across the carpet. He didn't give a shit about what Shinra did or did not tell their employees. The company was a hellscape of corruption and greed, and the sooner he grabbed Cloud and got out of here, the better. Then he would go straight to the slums, grab Aerith and for Cloud's sake Tifa, and then they'd leave and never come back. Because fuck this place. Fuck Midgar. And fuck the labs, too.
Zack's stomach clenched as he approached Hojo's laboratory, the same place where he had sworn he'd never return to. His legs froze in place as he stepped in front of the door. His knees trembled. It was an effort to remain standing, but he only sucked in a quick breath and pressed his hand against the biometric scanner beside the entrance. It was hot beneath his palm, and he had to bite his cheek to keep from ripping his arm away.
The scanner flared green to his infinite surprise, and the door unlocked with a faint click. Zack released his pent-up air and took a shaky step inside the lab. His stomach twisted at the scent of cleaning solution and ammonia. His heart rate pounded beneath his shirt, and his free hand bunched the material over his chest as his other hand tightened around his Buster Sword. Something was bubbling in the corner. Petri dishes, vials filled with acid-green liquid, and jars stuffed with pickled organic tissue were organized on work stations by size, color, and importance. On one desk was a clipboard, one filled with idle notes.
Zack recognized the sharp, jutting handwriting, and his stomach twisted — the only warning he had before he stumbled to the nearest trashcan and helplessly vomited whatever was in his stomach. Bile tasted bitter on his tongue, and he shakily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he turned towards the lab, blurry-eyed and wishing he was anywhere else but here.
It was then that he noticed that the laboratory was empty. No, not empty — trashed. He had been so distracted by the laboratory work stations that he hadn't noticed the lab assistants sprawled along the ground. He leaned over one and scanned their neck and chest to see if they had a pulse or were breathing. They weren't. Their eyes were also wide and glassy, their expression was contorted in a strangled sort of scream, and deep bruises lined their neck. Zack's gaze slipped across the bruises, and he thought that he could make out individual fingers pressed into their pallid skin.
They're dead, Zack decided as he stood fully upright, and he swept his gaze across the rest of the room. He couldn't find it within himself to feel too badly about it. They're all dead. Had Tseng done that? Had he… not been lying? The temperature, already chill due to the constant air conditioned, suddenly felt frosty. Zack hadn't thought that Tseng had killed all of the lab assistants with his earlier rescue, but…
"They're all dead," came a sudden voice, and — damn it all — Zack startled hard. As it was he whirled, sword pointed in front of him and heart lurching in his throat, only to come face-to-face with some sort of red wolf locked behind a glass cell. Another empty cell — his empty cell, Zack belatedly realized — was beside it, the door still swung open and sickly-sweet vapor still streaming from the vents.
The red wolf sat primly in its cell. Flame flickered at the end of its tail, and a jagged scar cut a harsh line down the side of its face, blinding one eye. The letters XIII had been tattooed onto its hide.
"Yes," the wolf said, and it almost sounded amused. "I can talk."
And Zack… Zack was suddenly sure that he lost it. He tilted his head back and laughed, a grating, hysterical sound, before dropping his head into his free hand and laughing a little bit more. This was it. He was crazy, definitely crazy, all of the stress had finally caught up to him and he was hearing things…
"I assure you, you are not crazy," the wolf said, and Zack's head jerked up, wide-eyed. "I too am a victim of Hojo, and if you open my cell and give me my freedom, I swear that I will aid you in whatever quest you are on."
Something sour welled up within Zack at the word freedom. "You too, huh?" he said, and there was no helping the twisted tilt to his words. "So I just free you and you help me? Without knowing for what? Just like that?" The dog opened its mouth to get a word in, but Zack cut it off with a harsh, "Bullshit. I'm not that stupid. What else would you want from me? Need me to take revenge, or… or need someone to die, or what?"
The red wolf flicked its tail, as if surprised. "I… suppose I would also like someone to talk to," he continued after a lengthy pause.
Zack sputtered. "So what, I free you and you want to tag along to make friends?"
"I'd also appreciate breathing fresh air," the wolf added, "and no longer be an unwilling tool of Hojo's experimentation."
Tool. Zack's chest tightened. "That's it?" he demanded, because that couldn't be it. There was always a catch.
The red wolf inclined his head. "That's it," he swore.
Zack's jaw worked as he deliberated, before he finally spat, "Fine." He didn't like this — every sense screamed at him that this was wrong — but he made his way to the cell door and flicked the lever. Within moments the cell was open and the wolf was sitting across from Zack, its single red eye far too intelligent for any monster Zack had seen in the wilds.
"Thank you," the wolf said, and there was genuine honesty in its voice.
Zack frowned. "What do I call you?"
"I have been given many names," the wolf replied, "but Hojo called me Red Thirteen."
"Red Thirteen?" Zack repeated, and forcibly swallowed his next thought: Red XIII is a stupid name. Though, he added with a faint grimace, I guess Sample Z isn't much better. "Do you have any other name you'd want to go by?"
Red XIII swished his tail across the floor. "No," he said after a pause. "Red Thirteen works well."
"Suit yourself." Zack shifted his focus back to the room full of dead laboratory assistants. Hojo, unfortunately, hadn't been included in the body count. He had checked and checked again. "So, Red," he continued, turning back to the wolf, "what happened here, exactly?"
Red XIII's eye narrowed a fraction. "It happened two ticks after you were taken."
"Ticks?"
"Twenty minutes," Red XIII corrected. "This occurred about twenty minutes after you had been taken by the black-haired man in the suit."
"Who did this?"
"Someone with blond hair and eyes like a snake," Red XIII replied.
Zack suddenly felt as if someone had kicked him square in the chest. "Green eyes? Slitted pupils?"
Red XIII shot him a look, and his flaming tail swept across the floor. "Yes."
"And how blond was this hair? Blond blond? Like, white blond?"
Red XIII hummed. "Perhaps not white," he decided, "but rather pale, yes. And long, too… or at least, long compared to the human males I have seen, who cut their hair against their skulls."
Zack suddenly couldn't breathe. Slitted green eyes, long pale hair… "Sephiroth," he breathed before turning to back to the wolf. "Where did he go?" he demanded. "Tell me."
"After killing everyone here, this man — Sephiroth," Red XIII corrected, and the name sounded warped on his elongated tongue, "—exited the laboratory. I do not know where he had gone afterwards," he amended, "but I can follow his scent. But I advise against it, as he is clearly dangerous and… unhinged."
"I'm dangerous and unhinged," Zack snapped, "and I'm telling you to track his scent."
Red XIII's expression shuttered, but he dutifully inclined his head. "Very well." He gave the air a cursory sniff before plodding out of the room. Zack followed at a jog, his teeth clenched and heart lodged in his throat.
While Nibelheim burned, Zack had ordered Cloud to kill Sephiroth… and Cloud had succeeded. If Sephiroth was back… well, it only made sense that the former First Class SOLDIER would be out for revenge. Why else would he be here? Why else would he have killed everyone in the laboratory?
There was only one reasonable answer: he must be looking for Cloud, probably to kill him.
Zack couldn't let that happen. He refused. If Sephiroth wanted to kill Cloud, then he would have to go through him first.
And he wasn't going down without a fight.
Thank you for reading! Now that I've totally changed the plot and made my life infinitely harder, all of us are going to be surprised at what happens next lol. Also, I'm not sure if we'll be able to wrap up Halcyon Days at chapter 40... it may take us one or two more chapters to make it work, but we'll see. Though I guess another option is that I can write the chapters super super long - that'll end us at chapter 40 for sure 😂
But anyway! You can find me on twitter at Rand0mSmil3z - chapter previews are always posted there first, and now that we're nearing the end of Halcyon Days, I'll eventually start posting about the sequel as well 🌸 Emphasis on 'eventually' lol.
Until next time! 🌻
