Hi, everyone! Welcome to chapter three. Thank you all so much for the favorites/kudos and reviews/comments on the last chapter. Every single one made me smile from ear to ear! They gave me so much energy. I want to add an updated content warning. This fic will contain non-graphic mentions of sexual harassment and assault. Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoy chapter three! (Shoutout to the Portal 2 soundtrack for providing me with ample dark-science, ambient music to write to!)
You can't meet anyone's eyes for the rest of the day. You feel humiliated, caged, used. Does Julia know about page thirty-five, section K, paragraph three? Does Clark? You're an idiot for not insisting on reading your full contract. You were so damn naive to have blindly trusted Shinra.
Fortunately, today's work doesn't require you to make eye contact with anyone. You're analyzing Cloud and Zack's cells.
You start with Zack's. Like all SOLDIERs and mako-enhanced creatures, his cells have created an envelope within their membranes for mako storage. The cells' organelles have adapted to utilize mako as efficiently, if not more so, than adenosine triphosphate. The mako becomes self-sustaining when the body begins to convert its own dead cells into new mako energy, utilizing the Planet's energy cycle on a microscopic level. This leads to enhanced strength, speed, stamina, and vitality…for a time. Eventually, the body becomes addicted to mako and begins to destroy healthy cells in order to generate more mako, leading to cellular degradation. For obvious reasons, Shinra doesn't advertise that side effect in their recruiting brochure, instead counting on SOLDIERs dying in combat before they have the chance to learn the truth. But Zack still has years and years before he has to worry about that. For now, his cells are healthy, robust, and thriving, each shining with a tiny star of mako energy.
Cells that haven't adapted to mako, however…
Cloud's cells are a mess. The mako might have been what saved him, but it might be what kills him too. An alarming number of his cells are oversaturated with it, swollen to the point of rupture. Those that have burst are shriveled, black specks on the slide. Unlike Zack's body, which has adapted to utilize mako, Cloud's body doesn't know what to do with it. After briefly accelerating healing, it sits like sludge in his cells and inhibits regular cellular processes. It's a miracle that he's alive at all. He might not be for long, though. As mako-infected cells replace healthy ones, the risk of mako poisoning exponentially increases.
You stubbornly stare at your clipboard to avoid Hojo's eyes while you report your findings and voice your concerns about Cloud's mako exposure. For once, Hojo agrees with you. Although he doesn't care about his subjects' comfort, he can't risk losing the specimen that killed Sephiroth. He tells you that Cloud will be moved to a cell once his surgical incisions have sufficiently healed. If it were up to you, Cloud would be removed from mako immediately, but Hojo has more experience than you in knowing how much mako a body can take before giving out.
Clark and Julia, who ran tests to search for anomalies in Cloud and Zack's DNA, present their findings. Hojo's teeth audibly grind together when they admit that further analysis hasn't revealed anything remarkable about Zack and Cloud. Hojo gathers the reports and shuts himself in his office by slamming the door behind him.
Your dad calls you during lunch. You let him go to voicemail.
That afternoon, you, Julia, and Clark add the data you gathered to the database. You wish your desk didn't face the tanks. It would have been easier to concentrate without having your eyes constantly pulled to Cloud and Zack. They've been drifting in and out of consciousness all day, their bodies requiring rest after yesterday's trauma. When they jerk awake, confusion momentarily clouds their features, only to be immediately followed by despair when they remember where they are. You can tell the mako still burns Cloud's lungs by the way his chest rises and falls spasmodically. You wonder if he would feel relieved to know that he will be pulled from the tank in a few days, even if it's just to be shoved into a cell.
The workday finally draws to a close. You shoulder past Clark on your way up the stairs, hellbent on trading the flickering, greenish lights of the lab for the last hours of daylight. It's drizzling, but you pull on your running clothes and head outside. The rain feels good after sitting in stagnant air all day.
You don't have the same frantic energy that drove you to collapse yesterday. Instead, every step is heavy as if your shoes were full of lead. You turn onto the road to Nibelheim and manage a half-mile of a lazy jog. You eventually slow to a walk.
Your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's your dad again. You let him go to voicemail again. He texts you. Just checking in to see how you're doing. Are you okay? You silence your phone and continue along the path.
The knowledge that you are effectively owned by Shinra threatens to eat you whole, the memory of Hojo laughing at your attempt to resign fresh in your mind. You swallow down your fear, anger, and hurt, and force yourself to focus on the sound of gravel crunching beneath your feet. You're physically, mentally, and emotionally spent. You want to believe that you have no more tears to shed.
Animals, humans, what's the difference?
If you don't do it, someone else will.
It's just a job.
You're protecting yourself, that's all.
Better them than you.
Maybe in time, you'll come to believe those things.
The steady rhythm of your feet against gravel eventually lulls you into a trance. A fog rolls in and devours everything around you. You're the only thing that exists. There is no Shinra, there is no Hojo, there is no Cloud, there is no Zack.
There's just you…
…the gravel…
…the fog…
…and a puff of black ash that rises from your feet.
You look up.
You're in the ruins of Nibelheim.
The blackened skeletons of buildings stand in stark contrast with a gray sky. Ash drifts noiselessly through the town, twisting itself into the vaguely recognizable shapes of things that once were: a couple holding hands, a mother pushing a stroller, a child running. A breeze pushes its way through a charred tree, the creaking of its branches the only noise audible above the pounding of your heart.
So this is where an entire village lost their lives.
The crew of Shinra personnel you glimpsed when you arrived in Nibelheim are nowhere to be found. Like you, they are probably also finished with work for the day. Through the fog, you think you see the bulky forms of construction equipment and dumpsters. Shinra is going to demolish this site and pretend like it never happened. Those who suffered and died here are to be buried and forgotten. The thought would repulse you if you hadn't already grown to expect this from Shinra.
Morbid curiosity propels you forward into the center of the town. The remnants of a windmill slowly turn atop the burnt-out shell of a water tank. A sign sways on a broken chain, the words "General Goods" barely legible on its surface. Several doors are cut neatly in half. Sephiroth.
A shadow flits across your peripheral vision. Your heart leaps into your throat and your head snaps to follow it, except it's already disappeared into the fog. You strain your ears for footsteps, a twig snapping, anything, but all you can hear is your own ragged breathing. You take one, two steps backward, and spin around to launch yourself into a sprint to get out of this village-turned-graveyard as fast as you can.
You're just outside Nibelheim when you glance behind you to see if the eyes you feel on your back are real or imagined. They're imagined, because the eyes are actually in front of you.
With a strangled cry, you skid to a stop and fall over backward to avoid colliding with the man who appeared in your path. You scramble back, reopening the scabs on your hands from yesterday's fall.
"Stop." the man says. His voice is deep, rich, commanding. You freeze.
He's dressed in a crisp, black suit. A Turk. He has sleek, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and sharp, calculating eyes. You eye the space on his hip where he's undoubtedly hiding a gun.
"You're one of Hojo's scientists, aren't you?"
You nod. Your jaw is locked with fear.
The man eyes you as if he's deciding what to do with you. You hope that one of the options isn't to put a bullet through your skull. With a short sigh, he seems to reach a decision. He offers you his hand. You hesitate, then accept it. Blood from your skinned hands stains his own, but he doesn't seem to care. He's probably seen too much of it.
"Your…test subjects." he says, his voice hardening in thinly veiled disgust on the last two words. "One of them is SOLDIER First Class, Zack Fair, right?"
You start to nod again, but remember Hojo's threat about keeping silent. It's too late, though. The man has read everything he needs to from your face. A flash of anger and sorrow peek through his otherwise emotionless mask.
"Get back to the mansion." he says. "Stay out of Nibelheim." He steps aside and motions for you to continue up the path. You step past him. When you turn back, he's already disappeared into the fog. You still feel eyes on your back all the way back to the mansion.
You press the front door shut behind you and turn the lock over. You peer out the window and search for any movement beyond the wrought-iron 's nothing but fog and ever-darkening shadows. You press your palm against your chest to steady your racing heart.
So the Turks really are involved. Stay out of Nibelheim, huh? No problem. Guess you'd better find a new running trail.
You're not quite ready to go to bed, but you're also not willing to join Clark and Barnes in the kitchen for dinner, so you wander aimlessly through the mansion, peering in room after empty room. All the rooms are furnished with all of the right things, beds, dressers, armoires…but they lack something that makes them feel like they've ever been inhabited by a real person. The drawers are empty. The sheets aren't wrinkled. The closets are barren.
One room is set up to be an entertaining space with plump, chintz armchairs, heaps of books, a chess set, and a rolling bar cart. The cart is stocked with rum, whiskey, vodka, gin… Without thinking, you seize two bottles. They're dusty, but sealed, so they should be good. You hold them close to your chest and hurry back to your room.
You take a swig right from the bottle. Two. Three. Four. Fire pours down your throat to your stomach. A heavy blanket drapes over your body and your mind. The floor gently drops away; you're in a free fall. You shut your eyes and soak it in. It feels good.
Your dad calls again. Maybe it's the alcohol, but you feel like answering this time.
"Hey there." Your voice is sticky.
"There you are! Where have you been?"
"Oh… It's just been a busy day."
"Did you think about what I said?"
"Yeah."
"Did you…did you make a decision?"
"Yeah." One was made for you, at least.
"Are you coming home?"
"…no."
"Ah." Your dad's voice is unexpectedly tight. "Alright. Whatever you think is best. Just know that if you change your mind at any time, I'll be okay. Okay?"
You blink back tears. "…okay."
If only you had the luxury of changing your mind.
You're in a foul mood the following morning. There's a scowl you can't scrub off your face and you hate everything about everyone. You hate the way Julia's hair dips into her yogurt when she leans across the table. You hate the way Clark's fork scrapes his teeth every time he takes a bite. You can't stay in the kitchen. You take your bagel and head to the lab. Barnes pisses you off because he's still scrolling through his goddamn phone. Dom sickens you by the way he's making a game of trying to catch Cloud's eye through the glass, moving so that no matter where Cloud turns, Dom is in front of him. Zack glowers at him from the next tank over.
The biggest spot of hate in your heart is reserved for Hojo. When he exits his office, it's all you can do not to dump your boiling-hot coffee on him. You hate that his lips never stop twitching. You hate the stupid gestures he makes with his hands while talking. You hate how he wears dark-tinted glasses in a fucking basement.
Today's not the day to pick a fight with him, though. He's wearing a scowl that rivals your own.
"As you all know, analysis of TS-2 and TS-3's cells didn't yield any new information. They're as ordinary as we expected." he says by way of greeting. His tone is neutral, but you know him well enough to pick up subtle undertones of fury. In a few days, the President expects a report explaining why one of Shinra's most valuable assets fell in combat, and Hojo has nothing to show for it.
Good.
"There is one more avenue we can explore, however. First responders to Nibelheim were able to recover a few bodies before they returned to the lifestream. Among them was the body of TS-3's mother. Although I highly doubt there is anything remarkable about that woman, it would be a serious oversight if we don't examine her as well."
Your hate swells. You know Hojo doesn't actually believe he'll learn anything new about Cloud by dissecting his mother. He wants to punish Cloud for his own failure to learn why Sephiroth fell to his hands.
Hojo motions for Dom and Barnes to roll a gurney down to the cold-storage unit. You glance at Cloud. He's watching Dom's retreating figure with an unmasked expression of relief at finally being left alone. If only he knew what was coming.
You wonder briefly if you could release a heavy dose of sedative into his tank without anyone noticing, but immediately discount the idea. You can't do anything without Hojo noticing. With a sour expression, you wash your hands and pull on your gloves and mask.
The squealing of the gurney's wheels heralds its return. The body is sealed inside a black bag. Dom and Barnes pull up next to the operating table and shift the body onto it. There's a small puddle of mako left on the gurney: evidence that the body had been stored in mako to prevent it from dissolving back into the lifestream. You shudder. It isn't right to interfere with a natural process like that. You wish you had some essential oils to drop into your mask. The body is cool right now, but it probably isn't going to smell great as it warms.
Cloud and Zack are watching attentively. You want to tell them to look away.
Without fanfare, Hojo unzips the bag.
The body is mottled, burnt, and nearly cut in half, but her features are more-or-less intact. Her hair, the exact same shade of blonde as Cloud's, shines dully under the lights. It's flecked with blood.
You hear a thud from the tanks. Cloud has kicked himself to the back of his tank to put as much distance between him and his mother's corpse as possible. Horror contorts his features, his shaking hands clamped over his mouth. Zack freezes, his face morphing from realization to distress. He turns to Cloud and mouths something to him, exaggerating his speech so even you can understand what he's saying halfway across the room. Don't look. Look away. Don't look.
But Cloud can't tear his eyes away. Tears, unable to mix with mako, float like diamonds around his face. His body is trembling, his head unconsciously shaking from side to side, trying to deny what he sees in front of him.
Hojo's eyes flick upwards towards Cloud. You can feel sadistic glee rolling off him in waves as he drinks in Cloud's misery.
Gods, you hate him.
Hojo sinks his knife into Cloud's mother's corpse.
You, Julia, and Clark are on standby, taking the samples he collects and storing them carefully in vials and slides. Skin, muscle, lungs, heart; nothing is left untouched. Hojo is uncharacteristically inelegant in his technique, cleaving the body apart like a butcher rather than a renowned scientist. Chunks of flesh litter the floor as he callously discards whatever he deems unfit for harvest. He casually throws a piece of liver at Cloud's tank. The flesh hits the glass with a wet slap and leaves a slimy trail down the side as it slides to the floor. Cloud buries his head in his arms.
It's good that he does, because Hojo pulls out the bone saw. He opens Cloud's mother's skull and sets her decaying brain on a collect razor-thin samples of brain tissue and really wish for those essential oils. Hojo scoops out each of her eyes and places them in jars of mako. Although they've grayed in death, you can see that her irises are lighter than Cloud's. She must have been beautiful in life.
Gutted, eyeless, and brainless, there's not a whole lot Hojo can continue to do with Cloud's mother's body. He exhales through his nose like a child finishing with a tantrum and steps away from the table. The body is messy and barely resembles a human at this point. Hojo chews on his cheek, his pockmarked, oily skin shining under the lights. Without warning, he lops off the corpse's head and grabs it by the remaining hair clinging to the intact bottom of its skull. Gravity opens Cloud's mother's limp jaw, forcing an expression of surprise.
Clark moans in disgust. You're with him.
"Store the body." Hojo orders Dom and Barnes. "We may need it again." They zip the remnants of the body in the black bag and load it onto the cart.
As soon as the table is clear, Hojo places Cloud's mother's head on it and positions it so its gaping eye sockets face Cloud. "It's nice when families get together, isn't it?" he laughs before retreating into his office.
What a fucking prick.
You try to go about your duties, but the head pulls your attention like a magnet. It will be hours before the mako solution it marinated in evaporates from the tissue and finally allows it to rejoin the lifestream. In the meantime, you hope that Cloud keeps his eyes squeezed shut.
Unfortunately, that is too much to hope for.
You glance up at the exact moment Cloud does. When he realizes that the gray, grizzled lump of flesh on the table is his mother's sawed-off head, you're grateful that the tank swallows his screams of grief.
You drink straight from the bottle again that night. Your mom, dad, and sister have left you voicemails. You delete them without even listening.
You must look like shit the next day, because Clark hands you a coffee without you even asking for it.
Zack appears to be all but fully recovered. Cloud's incisions, however, look as though they might split at the faintest mention of any physical activity. Hojo decides he could use another day in mako, despite the clock ticking on potential poisoning.
In the meantime, Dom and Barnes are tasked with preparing a cell for Cloud and Zack down a hallway just off of the lab. There are four cells in total, but only one is fitted for human use. It has rusted bed frames bolted to the ground, a small bathroom area, and a wire chute in which subjects place their forearms so scientists can safely deliver injections without having to remove them from their cell. How subjects are coaxed into willingly offering their arms into the chute is something of a mystery for you until Hojo hands you, Clark, Julia, Dom, and Barnes small remote controllers to strap to your belt. An electric cuff around the ankle would provide all the incentive needed for Cloud and Zack to comply with any request. Dom and Barnes plop musty, thin mattresses onto the bed frames, sweep out some cobwebs, and call the space habitable. You retrieve a couple of blankets and pillows from one of the many uninhabited rooms upstairs and add them to the beds. It isn't much, but it's something.
The cell's door is automated, controlled by a small panel down the hall. You test it a few times to make sure it's working. The power flickers once, just briefly, and the door slides halfway open on its own before you regain control of it. You mention this to Dom and Barnes, who then inspect the source of the failure. They conclude it was faulty wiring and replace the offending wire. You're not convinced that the door is totally safe now (it's too easy to imagine Zack breaking free and murdering you in your sleep), but you're outvoted when you suggest installing a manual lock on the door instead. "What, so they can pick it open?" reasons Barnes.
Barnes practices casting silence that afternoon. Dom is his guinea pig. Dom's voice cuts in and out like a video call with a poor connection. It makes it exceptionally difficult to concentrate on your task of ordering supplies from Midgar. Without Hojo's knowledge, you add anesthesia to the order. No matter what he claimed, there was no need for Zack and Cloud to be conscious each time they go under the knife.
"Can't you do that somewhere else?" Julia finally snaps at Dom and Barnes. She's analyzing Cloud's mother's cell samples.
"Fu-…-ou…-tch." Dom replies, sounding like he's speaking through an industrial fan.
Julia rises to her feet, eyes narrowed, and moves forward like she's going to slap him. Barnes steps between them.
"Of course, our bad." he says and steers Dom from the lab with a firm grip on his shoulder.
By the end of the day, Barnes can manage casting and maintaining silence for three minutes at a time. Hojo grumbles that it's not more. You do too. This could mean more duct tape.
Unsurprisingly, there's nothing special about Cloud's mother. Hojo doesn't seem too disappointed, confirming your suspicions that he only dissected her to punish Cloud rather than out of genuine belief that he could learn something from her cells. If only he spent that time drafting a report for the President instead. The report is due in two days and he still has nothing.
Would the President shut down this lab if Hojo doesn't submit anything?You hope so.
The next day, Hojo wants to examine Cloud and Zack to determine if they are ready to be placed in their cell. Cloud doesn't react well to the mako draining from his tank. He begins seizing the moment his body tries to make the transition from breathing mako to air. Mako pours from his mouth and nose and his limbs jerk sporadically, thudding against the glass. His hair becomes stained with red. Zack is frantic.
You hurriedly unlock the chamber door so Dom and Barnes can haul Cloud out and set him on an open stretch of floor to ride out the seizure. Cloud's skin pulls against his stitches and threatens to tear. You pray that the stitches hold. Hojo observes the scene with unmasked disdain. You can feelhis contempt for Cloud grow. Clark looks queasy.
Eventually, Cloud's shaking subsides, but he retches so violently that you think he's going to throw up his insides along with the mako. He tries to crawl onto his hands and knees, but his arms won't support him. He collapses into a pool of his own vomit, the blood in his hair mixing with green. Mild tremors wrack his body.
The lab is silent except for Zack's fists hitting glass.
Julia wrinkles her nose at the smell. "Can't we do something about that?"
"Sure, be our guest." Barnes says snidely. "The cleaning closet is that way."
"Barnes," Hojo says pointedly.
Barnes scowls. "Fine."
"And you," Hojo says to Dom. "Clean the specimen."
"You got it, boss." Dom says, hauling Cloud off the ground. "I'll rinse him off."
There's something in his tone that doesn't sit right with you, but they've disappeared down the hallway before you can say anything.
Barnes grumbles at having to clean up vomit until a warning glance from Hojo silences him. When he finishes, Hojo orders him to pull Zack from his tank. You administer sleeping gas, which buys Barnes five minutes to drag Zack from the tank to the operating table.
Zack is spitting mad when he comes to.
"Where's Cloud? What did you do to him?! Fucking answer me, damnit. What did you do to him?!"
"Calm, now. Hush, hush." Hojo says in a falsely sweet voice, running his hand over Zack's hair. Zack squirms under his touch. "TS-3 will be back shortly. He just needed to be cleaned up, that's all. You have no idea how lucky you both are. Not everyone has the privilege of being cared for by Shinra's leading scientist. It's lucky that you fell into my hands and not into the lab of some second-rate hack."
"Let me go and I'll show you my gratitude." Zack snarls.
"Hmm, no, I don't think I will. I'm not going to let you go for a very, very long time. Perhaps not ever."
"You bastard. People are going to be looking for us. You can't keep us here forever!"
A sinister smile splits Hojo's face. "Why would anyone look for dead people?"
Zack pales. "What…what are you saying?"
"It's so tragic… The news is all over it. Didn't you hear? SOLDIER First Class, Zack Fair, was killed in action just over a week ago. I heard the funeral was nice. Very tasteful."
Zack's face contorts in rage. "You fucking bastard."
"Shinra took care of all of the arrangements. It was just too much for your grieving parents to handle. They're very grateful."
"Goddamn you."
Hojo laughs, delighting in the pain he was causing. "Maybe I'll send them a gift. A little memento. Perhaps a lock of your hair? A tooth? Salvaged from your otherwise mangled corpse, of course."
"When I get out of here, I'm going to-"
But Hojo's laughter drowns him out. "When you get out of here? My, you still have a lot of hope, don't you? My dear boy, you're never getting out of here."
Just then, a grunt of pain echoes down the hallway. "You fucking bitch." you hear Dom roar. Then the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Cloud yelps.
Zack's attention immediately shifts to the hallway.
"Cloud!"
Hojo motions with his head to have Barnes go investigate. Moments later, he and Dom are manhandling a sopping wet Cloud back into the lab, his arms twisted painfully behind his back. Cloud's left eye is swelling shut. Dom's nose is red, swollen, and bleeding. It's broken.
Cloud's feet dig stubbornly into the doorframe. Dom uses his free hand to seize a fistful of Cloud's hair and bash his head against the door jamb, sufficiently stunning Cloud enough to force him into the lab. Barnes moves quickly, using Cloud's momentary disorientation to grab his ankles and hoist him onto the operating table while Dom follows with his shoulders. Cloud recovers his senses as Dom starts to secure his wrists, Barnes his ankles. He kicks out at Barnes who leaps away, narrowly avoiding a broken nose of his own. Cloud attempts to claw Dom's grip off of him, but his attempt is weakened by the fact that his fingernails are still broken or missing from scratching at the mako tank glass.
Cloud screeches in wordless rage as Dom and Barnes gain the upper hand and finish securing him to the table.
"You goddamn bitch." Dom's hand wraps around Cloud's throat and roughly shakes him. "You're going to fucking pay for that." Cloud chokes but manages to hack up enough spit to land a wad of it on Dom's forearm. Dom recoils with a snarl and pulls back his fist, aiming for Cloud's other eye.
"Enough." Hojo says quietly.
Dom swears, but lowers his clenched fist. "This fucker attacked me."
"Sure you didn't deserve it?" Barnes mutters so quietly that only you hear.
"Fuck you." Cloud spits back hoarsely. "You fucking keep your hands off me."
"Cloud! What happened?! What di-?" Zack's
"Cast silence." Hojo orders Barnes. Zack is cut off mid-sentence.
Zack glowers contemptuously at Dom as best as he can from his confined position. Dom has a tissue pressed over his nose, his head tilted back, his shirt stained with blood.
"Gonna go get some ice." he mutters sullenly before stomping out of the lab.
Cloud's trembling, but it's difficult to tell whether it's from cold, anger, adrenaline, or the memory of the last time he was strapped to the table. Maybe a combination of all of the above.
You're assigned to check Cloud's surgical incisions from last week. You gently run your fingers over the uneven stitches you left in his skin. He flinches beneath your touch.
The Y-incision looks weeks-old rather than days. If you weren't already familiar with the power of mako, you would consider it a miracle. His seizure and scuffle with Dom have reopened the wound in a few areas, marked by sluggishly oozing blood. Closer inspection tells you it's nothing serious, but since Cloud won't reenter the mako chamber, you clean the breaks with antiseptic. The cut on his head also isn't anything serious, but you clean and bandage it too. During this process, Barnes has to re-cast silence a few times, his face slowly going red with the effort of maintaining the spell.
"He's fine to go to a cell." you tell Hojo.
"Likewise for TS-2." says Julia. She's just finished pulling her stitches from Zack. There's barely any impression of a Y-incision marring his chest.
Hojo casts a brief eye over Cloud and Zack to confirm your assessments, nods, and motions for Clark to bring over the electric cuffs. The cuffs have dozens of tiny, metal teeth lining their interior that dig into Cloud and Zack's skin as Clark secures them around their ankles.
"Just so you know what these do…" Hojo says before pressing the button on the controller strapped to his belt. Zack and Cloud immediately writhe on the table, their backs arching as much as their restraints allow, their mouths open in silent screams.
Hojo releases the button and Cloud and Zack slump back onto the table, panting.
Hojo says "We are going to let you up from these tables. You are going to allow yourselves to be escorted down the hall. You are going to quietly enter your cell. If one of you even thinks of trying anything, you're both going to feel that again, and I promise I won't be so quick to stop it. Understand?"
Zack and Cloud don't give any indication that they heard him. Hojo taps the button, releasing a small pulse of electricity. Cloud and Zack flinch. "I asked if you understand." Hojo repeats.
Cloud and Zack nod as much as they can with their heads restrained.
"Good." Hojo says. "Release them."
You stand back as Dom and Barnes undo Cloud and Zack's restraints. They slowly sit up, Zack rubbing at his wrists, Cloud leaning heavily on his hands for support. Cloud sways unsteadily as he gets to his feet, and, for a moment, it seems like Zack is going to have trouble standing too, but, before you can blink, he lunges lightning-fast at Hojo.
Hojo is faster.
Zack and Cloud drop. True to his word, Hojo does not let his finger off the button a quickly as before. You look away, not caring to watch Cloud and Zack convulse on the ground in silent agony. You're no longer certain if silence is better than listening to their screams. There's something deeply unsettling about it.
Finally, Hojo removes his finger from the button. Cloud and Zack remain motionless on the floor breathing heavily.
"I'm sorry, but I thought I made it clear." There's a hard edge in Hojo's voice. "You are going to stand up. You are going to nicely allow yourselves to be escorted down the hall. You are going to quietly enter your cell. If not…well, I can do this all day. Now, get up."
Zack and Cloud shakily pull themselves to their feet. Zack spits blood. He bit through his tongue. Cloud tore a few more stitches and blood drips lazily down his chest. You catch a look of genuine regret flash over Zack's face. You can't help but admit Hojo's brilliance of having one trigger for two cuffs. You're pretty sure that Zack wouldn't care if he were electrocuted all day as long as it meant pissing off Hojo. The second Cloud is threatened, however…
Barnes flanks Cloud before Dom has the chance to move towards him. Dom shoots him a glare before taking his place by Zack. He almost appears to be sulking. They both have their fingers on the shock controllers, ready to act if Cloud and Zack step out of line. But Cloud doesn't seem to have any fight left in him, and Zack look prepared to be the cause of Cloud's suffering again. They limp out of the lab. Shortly thereafter, the sound of bars clanging shut echoes down the hall. You take a seat at your desk and prepare to attend to computer work.
Your relief at no longer having to see Cloud and Zack inside their tanks from your desk is nullified when you realize you can now hear their voices drift down the hall.
"…you okay?" Zack asks Cloud.
Cloud snorts. "No."
"Yeah…stupid question." Zack remains silent for a while. "This is so fucked. This is so fucked." You hear the sound of flesh against metal, the rattling of bars. "Damn it, damn it, damn it. Fucking open."
Another clang. A curse. The groan of a lock being tested. A snarl.
Julia glides past your desk to move down the hall to approach Cloud and Zack's cell. "Some of us are trying to work." you hear her say cooly. "Some quiet would be appreciated."
"Go to hel- agh!"
"As I said, quiet would be appreciated. Stop before I'm forced to shock you again. You don't want your friend to tear more stitches, do you?"
Julia quietly returns to her desk. Zack stops testing the bars, but you can feel his fury radiate down the hall.
"This is fucking bullshit." he snarls under his breath. "Whoa, hey, what's wrong?"
"Just need to sit down." Cloud mumbles.
"You're bleeding…"
"It's nothing."
"It's not nothing."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Cloud asks, his voice hard.
Zack doesn't respond for a moment. "We're going to wait a few days, let you heal up. Then we're getting out of here."
"…sure."
"We are." Zack insists. A long pause, then, "…that guard, what did he…?"
"Don't worry about it." Cloud replies icily. "I handled it."
"Cloud…"
"I don't want to talk about it."
They're quiet for a long time after that.
While Cloud and Zack adjust to cell life, you assist Hojo with writing the report for President Shinra. The fact that he wasn't able to find anything exceptional about those who took down his greatest triumph bothers Hojo to the point of losing coherent thought. You watch him begin, delete, and restart his report at least fifty times. Finally, he slams a copy of it on your desk for you to proofread. It's nearly five o'clock, but he needs it by tomorrow, so you sigh and settle into your desk chair for a late day.
Cloud and Zack's lack of remarkable qualities is summarized as "an undefinable characteristic that requires further study." Hojo goes on to suggest that this undefinable trait makes Cloud and Zack ideal candidates for Project S II; a project to create the next generation of SOLDIER and possible conduit through which to communicate with J-E-N-O-V-A. Hojo maintains that Sephiroth was an undeniable success, but acknowledges that infusing a fetus with J-cells during development may have led to mental instability, ultimately causing Sephiroth's downfall. Hojo argues that introducing J-cells to a person who already has a fully formed sense of self will reduce the likelihood of this happening again. He plans for the specimens to also be exposed to S-cells, citing that they are a necessary agent for J-cells to bind with and react to.
Hojo acknowledges that developing cells are much more likely to integrate S- and J-cells than fully developed cells, which is why Sephiroth was a success; he was introduced to J-cells when he was nothing but a mass of developing cells. Hojo writes "to encourage full integration of S- and J-cells, methodic, precise, physical duress will be applied to the specimens, followed by immediate S- and J-cell injections and infusions. As the cells regenerate in the presence of S- and J-cells, it is highly probable that they will incorporate them into their own cellular structure. Mako baths will be used to accelerate cellular regeneration."
The project timeline stretches two years. Every instance of "physical duress" Cloud and Zack will undergo is neatly broken down into the timeline with the trauma date and subsequent recovery period marked in clean, black text. Every inch of Cloud and Zack's bodies is going to be cut, broken, or bruised in some way to destroy existing cells and encourage the body to make new ones so that, over time, Cloud and Zack will incorporate Sephiroth and J-E-N-O-V-A's DNA into their own. Hojo plans to begin with S-cell injections. Then, after a year, he'll repeat the process with J-cells.
You return the report to Hojo with a few minor corrections and go upstairs to drink yourself to sleep.
Except you can't sleep.
Three, four, five shots and the world is spinning around you, but the sleep won't come. You're tormented by the knowledge of what is coming for Cloud and Zack. What you will be doing to Cloud and Zack.
There's two missed calls from your mom, one missed call from your sister, and one text message from your dad. You ignore them all.
You pound back a sixth shot and push yourself to your feet. There's something you have to do. The earth tilts sharply beneath you, but luckily there's a wall nearby to catch you. You straighten up and manage to grasp the doorknob on the second try.
How you don't break your neck going down the stairs is a mystery, but you find yourself in the basement's atrium without coming to any harm. Everyone else is asleep. A dull thrill goes up your spine as you strain your ears and hear nothing but the quiet hum of machinery. The lights are on as they always are, but, for some reason, the lab's shadows feel deeper at this late hour. You avoid looking at the door that leads to the catacombs and stumble towards the lab.
You bump into your desk and spill pens and pencils onto the floor.
"Shit…" you mumble, but you don't stop to pick them up.
You roll your ankle as you approach the cell and end up landing on your ass in front of Cloud and Zack.
"…hey," you say with all the dignity of someone who didn't just trip over nothing.
They're in defensive stances against the back wall, pressing themselves as far away as they can get from you. Zack's eyes gleam in the dull light. Cloud's eyes even seem to have a slight shine of their own, although that could just be the alcohol playing tricks on you.
"…s'no need to stand." you slur. You wave your hand and motion them to sit. "Sit down, sssit down…really, it'ss fine. 'm not gonna… 'm not working right now, y'know?"
"Why are you here?" Zack asks. There's a glint in his eye that probably would have made you piss yourself in fear if you were sober. He hasn't moved any closer to you, but you know he could have his hands around your throat in a single stride if there weren't bars between you.
"'cause I can't leave. I mean…" You suppress a belch. "I could…but then they'd make me into-"
"No," Zack interrupts you coldly. "Why are you here now? It must be after midnight."
"…oh. Ahh…huh." It's becoming increasingly difficult to form sentences. "I…I wanted to ssay I'm ssorry."
You think you hear Cloud scoff derisively, but someone's pressed heavy earmuffs over your ears. You try to look at him, but he drifts in and out of focus. There's a dark red stain on his chest.
Ahh, yes. His pulled stitches.
"I'm sso fucking ssorry…" you repeat. There's a lump in your throat. "…that…I didn't want to…I didn't have a choice…I'm sso ssorry."
Zack says something. You hear his words, but you don't understand them. Suddenly, you're babbling. You're not entirely sure what you're saying, but you feel it all spill out of you. Your debt. Your dad. Your fear of Shinra arresting you. Your guilt.
Zack says something again. You talk over him. You can't stop. You're not sure if you're even making sense at this point, but the words keep coming, falling like bricks from your mouth. You might be crying, but your face is too numb to tell.
Zack says something again. And again. And again. And, finally, his words make it through the earmuffs pressed against your skull.
"If you're sorry, you'll let us go."
You stare at him through bloodshot eyes.
"They'll kill me…" you whisper.
Zack approaches the bars and crouches down next to you. His expression is the perfect balance of imploring and solemnity. You remember when he used to greet you in the halls of the Shinra Building. He looks as though he's aged five years since then.
"If you're sorry, you'll let us go." he repeats.
"…I can't…"
"It's the only way to make things right."
"…but…"
"Please." His eyes pierce your soul.
Against your will, your head starts nodding.
"…okay."
Alarm bells are going off somewhere in the back of your mind letting you know that this is an incredibly bad idea, but you're so sure that this is the right thing to do that you barely hear them.
You must atone for what you've done.
You rock forward onto your hands and knees. It takes you six tries to stand. Finally, with some assistance from the wall, you get to your feet. The control panel for the door is just a few steps away. You take a wobbling step. A step backwards. Two steps forward. You reach out to grab the control panel…
…the world spins…
…and it goes dark…