Cue the Mission Impossible track! Or Let the Battles Begin ofc ;3

This story is also on AO3 under the same name if you prefer to read it there!


The man sat hunched over his monitor, pushing up the pair of tinted glasses as they slid down his nose.

This was certainly his most prized achievement yet. Everything had gone as hypothesized; his specimen had taken the bait — accepting the false Nibelheim mission and effectively entering Jenova's range of influence. There, he had succumbed to his true self.

The man reached for a nearby folder, sliding out a photograph. As he stared proudly, a warped smile crept onto his lips.

Yes, he had done well. His specimen had grown into something matched by no other. He glided a callused finger over the catlike emeralds.

Wait until the rest of the department heard of his great achievement. He had created the ultimate weapon. He would be unstoppable, famous… legendary. Him and his beautiful project at his heels, changing the world in the name of science! It wouldn't be long until all of Gaia praised the name Dr. Nicholas Hojo.

Unless...

His finger curled, crumpling the photo with it. He had designed his project to be flawless, obedient, unbreakable. And yet…

Hojo glowered at the monitor now, eyeing the blinking dot that indicated his specimen's location. There were no calculations to justify it.

The reins, they had been severed. He had broken feee.

But… how?

It couldn't possibly be that his subject was so utterly disgusted by the idea of killing others, was it? No. That couldn't be. That would be the equivalent of breeding a hound dog who refused to hunt!

He was immune to moral-driven decisions. He was incapable of forming bonds. And by no means would be ever corrupted by something so trivial as emotion.

There must have been a variable he hadn't considered. Something — or someone — had interfered with his Reunion.

No matter. Whatever it was, it would just have to be eliminated.

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Zack never thought he'd ever have to enter the labyrinth that was ShinRa's science department. Sure, he had been willing when imploring Seph for a key. But now, standing before the elevator, he wasn't so sure.

"Be careful for what you wish for," Angeal would say.

Zack recollected himself, taking a breath. He needed to make this right; both justifying an innocence and saving a life. It was his job as a Soldier, and a friend.

He hobbled into the elevator, letting the riders shuffle by. Thankfully empty. He was getting tired of all the bugged-eye gawks. Someone even asked if he had gotten into a scrap with a lawnmower!

Snickering, Zack inserted the card. Almost instantly the doors shut, carrying him to the lowest levels of the base. He slid into the corner. Maybe he would get lucky and Hojo would be running some errands. Or he could always be there. Or he would find nothing at all and this entire quest was in vain.

That was just Seph's pessimism rubbing off on him.

Clutching Moogle firmly in his pocket, Zack slipped out the elevator and into the nearest shadows of the corridor.

A scientist glided by. She eyed the seemingly empty elevator. Strange, ShinRa's tech was never motion sensitive. Not that it mattered. Managing security was not included in her contract. Shrugging it off, she continued down the hall.

Zack smiled, keeping his eyes shut. Soldiers could never be discreet — that was the job of a Turk. Thanks to the unmistakable Mako glow in their eyes, they were easier to spot than a giraffe in a sheep flock. Seph once said that's why he preferred black clothing; easier to merge with the night. Still, as ominous as they were, shining green eyes were hard to miss.

On the plus side, it did provide a built-in flashlight.

Once certain that the worker was gone, Zack slinked into the light. He opted to leave his cane behind as the thing would undoubtedly draw unwanted attention.

The brunet teetered. His balance would just have to cooperate.

You really did a number on me, old pal, Zack jested to himself as he steadied.

Surely there had to be a more efficient way to do this. Limping around like a lost puppy would inevitably get him caught. In his condition, he would not be able to flee, let alone defend himself.

Zack scanned the currently empty hallway. Maybe he could stowaway in a medical cart, or masquerade as a scientist, or…

His eyes widened. There on the upper wall, was the opening to a vent. Perfect! He'd be able to traverse the floor without fear of being discovered.

Zack shuffled to the wall. The vent was just above, mocking him with its unreachable height. There weren't any boxes he could possibly climb on, or anything sturdy enough for that matter.

He growled under his breath. The vent was his best bet, and now it was out too. Just his luck.

Goddess, Seph really was influencing him.

Subconsciously, he began caressing his hair. It was something he tended to do when stressed — either that or preform squats, which wasn't exactly designed for injured people.

His hand then gripped his hilt. That's when an idea sparked. It was crazy, sure. But maybe, just maybe… crazy enough.

Zack inched forward, carefully running his glove along the wall. Unsurprisingly, it was steel.

In order to reach Seph in the Mako Reactor, Zack had to slash open the metal doors. This seemed to be made of a similar material.

The brunet grinned, unsheathing his Buster Sword. Zack teetered as the hefty weapon was transferred into his arms. He never had a problem holding the thing in the past, but with weakened limbs, that was another story.

Alright, here's for all the marbles, Zack prepped himself, steadying his blade. Then, he jammed the bulky metal into the wall.

Zack sucked in his breath, surveying the hallway. It was still empty, thank Ifrit.

The wall stopped rumbling. And much to Zack's relief, Buster Sword was laying firmly lodged within it.

Yes! Score one for ol' Zack!

Returning to the present, he eyed his legs with concern. Now came the tricky part. He had to tackle this with extreme caution, or else he'd be sent crashing back to the ground. Not only would that surely reveal himself, but his bones were still quite fragile. He was not sure if they could take much more.

Gripping his hilt with one hand and pressing his boot to the wall, Zack began to pull himself up. Gathering all his upper weight, he gritted his teeth and continued to rise. Once certain that the sword could handle his weight, Zack removed his supporting legs and moved them to dangle over Buster's blade. He took advantage of the wide and flat surface, placing his boots atop. Then, Zack heaved the rest of himself up until fully crouched on the weapon. Only then did he let go of the hilt.

Thanks, Angeal. Zack carefully patted the blade. I'm sorry for ever saying that this thing was too big.

Wincing, Zack steadily straightened. He could faintly detect the taste of blood in his mouth. In order to suppress the moans, clamping on his tongue had been his only alternative.

There was the vent! Right above!

Zack reached to unfasten the grate. Quietly as he could, the brunet shook the bars until greeted with a reassuring popping sound. Smiling in satisfaction, he removed the cover and gently laid it flat.

That's when distant footsteps caught his attention. Zack's heart gathered speed. Ifrit, he was completely exposed!

Panicking, Zack practically leapt into the vent. His knees slammed against the unfriendly surface, the echo thankfully bouncing only through the tunnel.

Zack wasted no time turning around, reaching down to jiggle his weapon free. But nothing happened.

The footsteps neared. Desperately, Zack rattled the hilt, sacrificing any attempts at being stealthy.

Finally, it broke free. He stifled a yelp, needing both hands to hoist and slide Buster through the passage.

Just as two workers glided by, a vent was shut above them.

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Zack never handled small spaces well. Car travel was manageable, long as the trip wasn't hours on end. If that was the case, he would immediately jump for a train. He didn't suffer from motion sickness — unlike Cloud — but that just meant there were things other than vehicles that could trigger him.

So, Zack crawled through the claustrophobic passage, sweating rivers. Mostly due to the radiating heat, but also from his erratic heart rate.

Mako-enhanced orbs sliced through the dark. Honestly, the brunet had no idea where he was going. He just knew that anywhere would be a start.

Zack narrowed his eyes. Shadows of bars stretched around the corner, allowing strips of light to penetrate. Welp, looks like that's where he was heading.

Zack squirmed around a tight corner, following the guiding light. Surely enough, there was another grate ahead.

He pressed his ear against the bars. Silence. The appendage twitched, meticulously scanning for any signs of movement. Another perk of Soldier buffs; precise hearing. Although it didn't help with his 'puppy' image. Zack rolled his eyes at the thought.

Once confident that the coast was clear, he proceeded to unfasten the vent. Below, a small room was revealed. Metallic walls encompassed the square space. No shelves, no windows.

Looking down, Zack noticed an animal bed — used — that was sprawled along the floor. Across from it, sat two empty dishes.

"Didn't know these people had the heart to have a pet," Zack mused aloud. He thought it over, realizing the cruel experiments that must have taken place. Poor thing…

Zack shook his head. He was letting his mind wander again.

Showing the condition of the room, the bed, and the rusted bowls, it looked as if no one had entered in years. Maybe longer. Perhaps the hallway beyond it was deserted too. Seph has mentioned that once better, more efficient rooms were built, the scientists would abandon them completely.

Zack had underestimated the safety of vent travel; his body temperature was getting dangerously high. He inhaled deeply, embracing the cooler air. It was just a chance he'd have to take.

Luckily, the pet bed was just below. Zack took hold of Buster — who he had been dragging behind — and nudged it carefully out of the passage. As planned, his sword landed silently against the plush.

Zack was next to go. Trying his best not to jostle any injuries, he pushed himself out of the vent and onto the awaiting cushion. The impact was mostly padded — save for his chest hitting something… metal?

He laid there for a moment, letting his legs calm down. He was without a question exetering himself more than he should. Not that he had a choice.

Suddenly, Zack's face scrunched as the foul stenches of the bed caught up to him. His eyes snapped open, now seeing the thought-to-be grey material stained with faded shades of green and red.

Zack yelped. He straightened far faster than he should, scurrying off the cushion like a startled mouse. He scrunched his nose taut.

Well, he seemed to be right about the neglected room.

Zack removed his hand, now using it to solace his chest. What in Ifrit did he fall on?

Reluctantly, he kneeled down and forced his glove under the emetic cushion. When it was withdrawn, a pocket knife laid in his fist.

"What in the name?" Zack breathed, suddenly grateful that he didn't land any differently. He examined up the knife. The silver was clean, untainted. Save for the obvious rust, it didn't look as if it was ever used.

Now that he thought about it, a knife was a much more manageable weapon for someone in his condition. And it's not like there was anyone to miss it. Zack slid the dagger into his pocket.

Okay, now to get to business.

Zack retrieved his blade and began hobbling to the door — just past the set of dishes.

That's when something caught his eye.

Carved into one of the bowls, faint but legible, read the name Sephiroth.

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Zack's heart caught in his throat. For a moment he simply stared; taking in the realization that he was standing in his best friend's room; if one could even call it that.

While Zack's room back in Goganga had shelves, toys, a bed… Seph's was suited for nothing more than... a pet? Was that all that these madmen thought of him? Something so unworthy of anything but the basic necessities of human survival?

Zack rarely got angry. Usually it was nothing more than mild frustration. And in the few times he did succumb to it, he would make sure that it never escaped its cage.

But not this time.

The blood in Zack's veins began to boil, fueling a fire inside him that had never been ignited before. His fingers itched, subconsciously reaching for Buster in a sudden desire to cut down every person in ShinRa's facility.

No… he needed to calm down.

Zack closed his eyes, silently counting to ten before reopening them. He let his fingers relax. Just as it had been in the Reactor, he couldn't let his emotions consume him. Seph needed him more than ever. And he needed the Zack who could push those poisonous feelings aside.

He found himself wandering over to Seph's bed. Buster had made an obvious dent in the plush. But under it, similar to what the knife had created, was a bulge.

Zack wondered if he even dared. But then again, this was Seph's room. He hadn't even realized, but this could be his best lead yet. Nothing about this animal pen screamed Jenova. But who knows, these people could have just been excellent deceivers.

With his mind made, Zack bent down and lifted the bed.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting; another knife, an explosive, a hand that would jump out and drag him under?

But a notebook was not among them.

Zack blinked in confusion. As he set down the bed, he scooped up a dusted, brown diary. He flipped it over. The back cover was plain as well, if one was to dismiss the red and clear splotches.

Did he have any right to read this? Did he want to read this? For all he knew it could be littered with information that he would do anything to forget. Or it could always be empty.

"Alright, bud. Let's see what you got…" Zack brushed off the film of dust, opening the book and bracing for what was to come.