Author's note: Okay, I'm officially a broken record, so I'm just going to bypass any excuse I will make (legit or not) and just let you get to the chapter.
Things are starting to get interesting now... Enjoy, and don't forget the reviews!
(Side note, I thought I had actually finished this, but I wasn't happy with the ending. I might have to delay some of the posts in order to go back and edit for a new ending. Especially once we hit chapters nine and ten...overall expecting around twelve-fourteen chapters, maybe an epilogue; I'm on chapter eleven now. I apologize in advance if I do not finish them before I get to posting those chapters.)
Chapter Six:
The File
"In the end, I guess I had to fall.
Always find my place among the ashes."
Blood stained black gloves and silver metal as he walked up the violet-carpeted stairs. It was the old ShinRa building, he realized. He was going to the top floor—the late President's office. Feet climbed the stairs silently, anticipating every moment even more anxiously than the last. But despite his anxiousness…a calm heart beat echoed against his mind, tranquil. Finally, he reached the top of the stairs and entered the large empty office. At the desk near the window was a royal blue chair with its back turned towards him, concealing the body that inhabited it. But he knew who sat there in front of him; after all, he'd been in the president's office many times before.
"Is that my son?" President ShinRa queried as he wheeled around. "Strange, I don't remember hearing your chopper come in…" Eyes widened and the president froze when he saw him approaching his desk. Thinking quick on his feet, the man pressed the speaker button on his desk in hopes of calling someone.
"Yes sir?" Palmer answered. Before he could say anything, the box was pierced with a slender sword. The stout man's eyes gazed fearfully into Mako eyes that gleamed above him.
"There will be no one to help the likes of you," a cool voice spat. He withdrew his sword from the speaker slowly, and held it firmly by his side. A smirk tugged at his lips and he hesitated only to savor the moment.
"I won't let you have the Promised Land." Without another word, he raised the nodachi then thrust it downward. The slender blade pierced the corpulent President with ease. His stare lingered weakly a moment, glazing before he fell limp on his throne. Eyes watched as blood oozed from the wound, around the sword and down his back, leaving almost no stain on the red suit. He released the hilt and let his hands fall to his side.
'And so, it's done. I did it, Mother…'he thought. 'All for you.'
*~*~*0*~*~*
Days continued to march passed, although the windowless office of the late professor blotted out any sense of the time passing. A glance at the digital clock revealed the time; it was nearly eight in the morning. Startled to see that the entire night had already crept by, Hart stole a glance at the Turk sitting at the desk. The scientist did a double-take; she was still slumped over in the desk chair, head lolling to the side, eyes closed, breaths deep and even, just as she had been for the last hour. Hazel-green studied her for a while, and he couldn't resist the faint smile that touched his lips. Finally he stood, quietly crossing to the desk and stooping down beside her. Elena had been working diligently for weeks, stopping only when she was too exhausted to read the tiny chicken-scratch cursive of Hojo's handwritten notes. Even asleep, he could see the heavy lines and dark circles that had begun to form around her eyes. He gingerly brushed a blonde lock from her face.
"Elena," he called quietly. Lids fluttered, revealing glazed cobalt blue as she stirred. He smiled as her eyes met his gaze. Elena started, almost managing to tip the chair backwards as she gasped. "Sorry!" he said, catching the back of the swivel chair.
"No – just startled me is all," the Turk replied, face flushing red. Suddenly she felt like an idiot for consistently acting like a smitten schoolgirl. "How long was I out?"
"Er, not long," he lied. "Just a few minutes."
"Sorry…" she offered sheepishly. "W-what time is it?"
"Er…just after eight," he answered sympathetically. Gaping, she watched him, and he added, "…in-in the morning."
"Already?!" she exclaimed slouching lazily back into her chair.
"Why don't you get a few hours of sleep?" Hart suggested. "I can keep looking for a while."
"No…I can't just leave you here working on this…" Elena protested, barely managing to stifle a yawn.
"Elena, it's fine," the professor insisted. "I…don't really sleep much, anyway."
"Insomnia?" she queried. Eyes met, and he was quiet for a moment before stealing back to his stack of files.
"Something like that," he responded absently. She studied him in the dim light of the desk lamp, and resisted the urge to request clarification that she didn't need.
"Alright," she finally agreed. "Let me finish this stack and then I'll head out."
"I've only got a few more left from the middle drawer, then I'll start on the other stack," he said.
"What are the labels on those?" Elena asked. He picked up a stack of around two dozen files, sifting through them as he spoke.
"S-RM, unlabeled, unlabeled, C-KDC…" mentally she recalled the files with any similar labels, much too tired to analyze the system, "…unlabeled, R-13, 3598, unlabeled, C-JS11, C-J7, unlabeled, T-RS-C, S-CM, unlabeled…"
"Wait!" the Turk interrupted suddenly, and he paused mid-motion, blinking. "Can I see that one? T-RS-C?" Still stunned, he sifted back through, finally extracting a particularly thick folder and offering it to her. "Thanks," she said absently, forcing back a yawn as she opened the file. Eyes began to scan the page, moving faster and faster with each word she absorbed.
"What is it?" Hart inquired after a moment, but the Turk didn't look up.
"This…this is it," she breathed finally.
"What?!" he exclaimed. She looked up, beaming.
"We found it!" Azure eyes darted back to the page, but as she continued skimming the pages, her excitement faded. "I need to get this to Tseng," she said urgently, heading straight for the door. After several steps, she paused. "Thank you," Elena said, the smile of gratitude not hiding her anxiety. He nodded as she charged through the doorway. When her footsteps had faded, he sighed.
*~*~*0*~*~*
Sunlight flooded his eyes, and Reno blinked the brightness away. Instinctively, he lifted his hands to rub his eyes; but arms caught as he tried to move them. He pulled again, blurred gaze lingering on his wrists. Something wrapped around them, tight but not uncomfortable. Vision focused finally, and he realized he was restrained. A mechanical tone echoed through his ears, a beep that seemed to be in time with his heart rate. The room was heavy with the perfume of sanitation. He was in the medical wing, but…why…? What had…what had happened? A warm scent tickled his nose through the door, and he breathed in the relaxing smell of fresh-brewed coffee. Seconds later his door opened quietly, and the director stepped inside.
A normally stern façade had been replaced with weariness.
"You look like hell," the redhead jested, and Tseng smiled half-heartedly.
"You're awake," he said, closing the door. "That's a good sign. Are you in any pain?" Reno shook his head, eyes glancing back down to the cup, and the director chuckled. "You can have a sip, but I'll have to get you some decaffeinated later."
"Decaf?" Reno repeated. "You know I like mine regular."
"You've just gotten off of sedatives, Reno," Tseng replied, grabbing a small paper cup from the bathroom sink. That explained the grogginess. "Caffeine and sedatives don't typically mix well."
"What time is it?" Reno asked impatiently, hoping the director would answer the unasked question instead. Obsidian eyes glanced quickly at his wrist watch.
"Quarter 'til eight," he answered. Liquid splashed into the small paper cup as he poured it half-full.
"So, are you going to tell me why the hell I'm restrained?" the redhead asked as he approached. "Why I was sedated?" The director held the cup up, and he swallowed greedily. Hot liquid scorched his tongue and he could feel heat seep into his body all the way to his stomach. He'd always loved fresh coffee.
"Reno…do you know why you're in the hospital?" he asked finally, tossing the cup to the wastebasket and sipping from his own.
"I…I was shot," he answered hesitantly. Onyx eyes bore into him, and the director listened intently. "You asked me to go with you to…to get Hojo – the tumor… When we got off the elevator, your phone rang. You said it was an urgent call, and Hojo would have to wait."
"…Then what?"
"I told you I'd handle it," he continued. "I…I think you told me not to go alone, but I did anyway. I didn't think…it would be that difficult."
"So you spoke with Hojo?"
"Not…not exactly…" Reno recalled. "I went in and the wall was open. It was a dark room – barely lit, and it reeked of Mako. There were these…capsules – metal tanks and half of them were full. I knew something was up; I tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail. By the time I realized that Hojo had heard me…he was pointing a gun at me." His mouth went dry and he swallowed. "He shot me…I…I thought I was dead…" Silence sank over them, and Reno shook his head. "How'd you find me?"
"Reno…" the director began. He hesitated, and sighed. "Reno, that happened seven years ago. Elena found you in the secret lab you saw that night." Jade eyes met his and the redhead frowned. "You remember?" Silently, he nodded, feeling somewhat ludicrous for not recalling that particularly important detail. "Do you remember the mission? The reactor?" Another nod; the Nibelheim Reactor. "Do you remember what happened?"
"I remember you wanted me to stay outside, and I told you I wasn't," he said, smiling half-heartedly. "Throw me a bone, here, Tseng – what the hell happened?"
"I know it's difficult, Reno, but I need to know what you remember," the director replied. Reno sighed defeated, and eyes fell. They studied the thread patterns of the blankets, tracing each crease and stitch.
"We…went inside and…I saw…something…" his voice trailed, and brows furrowed as he tried to grasp the memory. "I remember feeling dizzy after I saw it…what was it…?"
"…Get some rest, Reno," the director said quietly as he stood.
"You're not getting off that easily," Reno stated. "You're injured, and I'm restrained. What the hell happened?" Eyes locked in a stalemate, pools of Mako boring into onyx. Finally, the director sighed, sitting back down. He sipped his coffee a moment, stalling. "Tseng?"
"We…think the Mako concentration levels inside the reactor may have triggered some sort of reaction," he said finally.
"…Reaction?" Reno repeated. "What…what kind of a reaction?"
"You collapsed," Tseng said. "And then…" Reno studied the director's face; eyes refused to meet his as they stared at his coffee cup, and fingers tapped on the side of it nervously. The right side of his neck was bandaged, and Reno sighed.
"I lost it, didn't I?" he asked finally.
"…Do you remember it?" Tseng retorted quietly, and Reno shook his head.
"No, but…it's written all over your face," he answered hoarsely. "I remember…having a dream…or…maybe a vision. I was in the reactor but…I…think…" Eyes closed as he fought to recall the dream. He wielded a sword, and a young blonde charged him. Blades collided and he easily deflected… "I think I was fighting Cloud," he said finally.
"…Cloud?"
"Yeah," Reno nodded. "But…he was in his ShinRa uniform. I was fighting him, and…" His mind drifted back to the vision; a strained scream escaped the youth's lips, but it was muted against the high pitched screech that filled his head. What had he screamed? Ears pricked and he tried to make out the syllables as the echoed through his mind. "Sephiroth?" he asked himself, and suddenly coffee splattered the floor.
"What?" the director said standing.
"He…called me Sephiroth," he answered. A fearful gaze met his, but the director shook his head. "Wait – the thing I saw…it was the Masamune, wasn't it?"
"Get some rest, Reno," he said, hastily mopping up the spilled coffee.
"But, sir, I –"
"I'll be back when I can get some answers," he said, fingers closing on the door knob. "Until then…don't strain yourself worrying about it." Reno protested again, but he shut the door behind him. He winced as he walked quickly to the nurses' station, picking up a folder with lab results inside. His phone rang as he approached the elevator. "Tseng."
"Have you heard anything back from the test results?" Rufus asked.
"I spoke with the doctor earlier and just got a copy of the results," he replied. "But Reno has no recollection of threatening you when you stopped by yesterday evening. In fact, he had trouble even remembering what happened at the reactor."
"I see…"
"I'm on my way to go over the results with you," Tseng said, stepping into the elevator. "Give me a few minutes – I'm on the elevator now." It climbed nearly seventy floors, finally halting as it reached the upper floor. Doors opened, sunlight beaming in through the open room. The weekend staff was pretty light, so the restricted floors usually had much less activity than on a weekday. He slid his card and the door pinged as it granted him access to the main offices. The speaker buzzed as Tseng pressed it, but no voice answered. Instead, the door clicked and the director entered.
"The doctor released you?" Rufus asked; Tseng chuckled.
"I'm fine, sir," the director assured. "The sutures came loose, and the wound reopened. I didn't realize I'd been bleeding through."
"Well?" he asked expectantly as Tseng sat.
"The doctors agree that he shows signs of a multiple personality disorder," he said, passing him the files. "Sleep studies showed that his brainwaves are overactive during sleep, spiking as he wakes. Likely, those spikes are the second personality attempting to take over before Reno can. Is that the sword?" he added, eyes flickering over to the wrapped parcel that was propped delicately against the wall.
"Yes, they just brought it about twenty minutes ago," he said absently, eyes scanning the studies. "I haven't had a chance to look it over. Treatment options?"
"Uncertain at this time," he replied, and blue struck his gaze as eyes found his. "The doctor has suggested medication, but he isn't sure what effects it could have. We don't exactly know the cause, and his body is different than all other cases of multiple personality disorders. There's no telling whether the medicine will help Reno control the alternate or suppress Reno's mentality to give the alternate personality control. He suggested testing it first, on lab rats."
"But before he moves forward, we have to know what was done," Rufus concluded. "Elena said she had one and a half more filing cabinets to go through, so it shouldn't be too much longer, I hope." He rubbed his eyes sorely, and sighed. Suddenly, the buzzer rang, and they both startled from their conversation. Rufus pressed a button, calming himself.
"Name and business," he answered.
"It's me," a female voice said. "I…I think we finally found it." Their eyes matched, and wordlessly, he unlocked the door. Fingers swiped blonde locks behind an ear as she handed the file to the president. It was labeled "T-RS-C" – whatever that meant. He opened it, eyes skimming the physical description page.
"The description's pretty damn close," he said, passing the page to Tseng.
"'…redhead, roughly five-eight…blue eyes…tattoos beneath the eyes…'" the director read impatiently. "'…GSW to the left abdomen below the pancreas and above the colon…GSW to the neck-slash-head, direct impact to the cervical vertebrae…'" Tseng shook his head. "That is where he was shot… 'Subject showed resistance; still living after second GSW.' How the hell didn't that kill him?" he asked. "'…subject also appears to be left-handed, making him a perfect candidate for this project…'" Obsidian eyes tore themselves from the page. "What project?"
"Listen to this," Rufus began, skimming another page. "'Will use methods tested on subject T-VV to enhance subject's endurance, physical abilities, and longevity; full processing expected to take three to five years.'"
"It goes on," Elena explained. "Later he talks about using the metamorphosis research from T-VV and C-SH to actually change the DNA." The leaders hesitated, and their gazes locked. "He was trying to bring back Sephiroth, or something. It sounds completely crazy – I can't believe Hojo would have come up with something so…so unreal."
"Elena, why don't you go see how Reno is feeling?" Tseng suggested. Bright eyes met his gaze, curiosity lingering in glassy eyes. "He seems to be more…himself when you're around."
"Yeah…sure," she said hesitantly, and Rufus was certain she caught the hint that there was another reason entirely that Tseng was asking her to leave.
"Oh, and grab him a cup of coffee – decaf," Tseng added. Elena smiled lightly to herself; the redhead had always loved his tongue-scorching coffee. Quietly, she left, shutting the door behind her with a click.
"What're you thinking?" Tseng asked softly, accepting the file. He thumbed through it, skimming notes and documents.
"Hell, I don't even know anymore," Rufus answered. Silence fell over them as Tseng looked over the documents. Elena was right – there was a whole two-page handwritten document about the DNA fusion and mentions of Sephiroth, Jenova, and the Cetra.
"Why would he want to bring back Sephiroth…?" Tseng asked rhetorically. Eyes scanned the page, reading small scribbled cursive carefully. "'Once enhancements are complete, DNA metamorphosis will begin and will continue for another estimated five years…'"
"We don't have the kind of time it would take for Professor Hart to test the medication," Rufus concluded. "Three to five years…plus another five – or at least two – for the DNA infusion…"
"…There has to be something…" Tseng said absently, flipping the page. Cobalt eyes watched him a moment and the president sighed.
"So you believe it then," Rufus said, and Tseng tore his eyes from the page. "You believe the alternate personality is, in fact, Sephiroth?"
"…I have no reason to doubt it," the director replied. "When you stopped by earlier, what did he say to you?" When the president didn't answer, Tseng continued. "…He said 'he'd kill you just like your wretched father.' Who killed President ShinRa?" The blonde's eyes broke from the dark gaze, fluttering briefly over the pages of the file. "When I finished talking to the doctor I stopped back by, and he was Reno. After I got him talking and told him what had happened in the reactor he said that he remembered dreaming."
"About attacking you?"
"Not exactly," he replied quietly. "He was in the reactor, and he was attacking someone – Cloud. And…Cloud called him 'Sephiroth.'" Brows furrowed as their eyes met and Tseng shook his head. "Sephiroth did attack Cloud in the Nibelheim Reactor – I remember it. I was just a Turk then – not the director. It was just after Zack and I had finished an assignment…it was the last time I saw him before…the Nibelheim incident occurred. Zack fought Sephiroth in the Reactor – and he was nearly killed. Cloud delivered the finishing blow to Sephiroth. I was deployed to oversee the clean up and restoration of Nibelheim."
"You think he was seeing that?" Rufus asked. "That happened, what…almost fifteen years ago?"
"Fourteen, actually," Tseng corrected. "The bigger question is why he was seeing it." Eyes sank back down to the document and the director shook his head. A shrill ring echoed through the spacious office and Tseng pulled his phone from his pocket.
"Tseng," he answered. He was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed. "Hello?" Eyes met, and he hung up.
"Who was it?" Rufus asked as Tseng looked back through his phone log.
"Elena," he answered, trying to call back. After a moment, he hung up. "It's going straight to voicemail now. She might have forgotten to charge her phone again." He put the phone away and sighed. Their minds reeled as they both scanned a document or two, silence heavy and tense as both lost words for a moment. Smokey eyes glanced over the backside of the handwritten document, and Tseng frowned.
"…Sir, have you ever heard of the Axolotl?" the director queried suddenly, eyes hanging over one page.
"I…can't say that I have," he answered uncertainly. "Why?"
"It's a type of salamander that is only native to the Mideel Area," Tseng stated. "But it is one of the most interesting creatures on our planet."
"Why's that?" he asked, still perplexed over the random turn in conversation. Tseng passed him a page, and blue eyes scanned it carefully. "…limb regeneration?"
"Yes," he nodded. "The Axolotl is one of the only known creatures in existence on our planet that can regenerate lost limbs. There's one or two other salamander species that can also regenerate limbs, but the Axolotl is the species considered most in research. Most reptiles have some capability to grow back a partial tail as an escape mechanism – when a predator grabs it, it willingly detaches the tail and it grows back with time. The Axolotl, however, can regenerate any limb – not just a tail."
"He was trying to create a body that could successfully regenerate limbs?"
"And it would seem he succeeded," Tseng added, eyes looking over another page. "Here, he notes a success, having cut off an index finger. 'Subject's right index finger was removed from the host body…regeneration successful…full digit regenerated in six weeks. Will attempt to enhance the cells even more to see if more rapid regeneration can occur."
"So he did it? He actually…made Reno's body regenerate limbs?" Tseng nodded quietly, as he flipped to the next page.
"It seems like after that stage, he went more in-depth with full DNA infusion," Tseng concluded. Finally, he shook his head. "Hojo's notes are extensive, but…he successfully created a virtually indestructible vessel. So, even if he did successfully infuse Reno's DNA with Sephiroth's…then we interrupted treatments. We woke him up three years early."
"But is that a good thing or a bad thing?" the president suggested and Tseng shook his head. "Do you think there's a way to reverse it?" Rufus asked, watching the raven-haired director as he read through the notes.
"I don't know, sir," he replied. "I hope so…but I won't know anything until I read over these notes. Who knows, maybe Hojo had a failsafe…a way to shut down the Sephiroth genes in case something should go wrong."
"Hmph, Hojo creating a failsafe?" the blonde chuckled half-heartedly, "That doesn't seem likely…" His voice trailed as his eyes trailed back to the crisp pages, lingering on the name again and again. "Why would he want to bring back Sephiroth?" he queried rhetorically, brows furrowed and lips taught with bewilderment.
"He wasn't in his right mind," Tseng sighed. "Granted, he never really had much of a 'right mind,' but…the tumor…the part of the brain it was in caused severe judgment impairments. Who knows what was going through his mind…unless it's somewhere in all of this," he added, gesturing to the oversized pile of papers. The buzzer rang on Rufus' door, and he cursed under his breath.
"Name and business," he answered. Silence. He pressed the speaker again. "Name and business," he repeated. Their eyes locked, brows furrowed as the director stood. Limping slightly, he walked to the door and squinted to see out the peephole.
"What the hell?!" he exclaimed. "Unlock the door," he added frantically as he tried to pull it open. The president hesitated, only a moment, trusting well that Tseng knew what he was doing. He stood quickly as the door opened, and gasped. "Elena?! Elena, can you hear me?!" Blood stained her white shirt and navy jacket, and trailed through the hallway. A wound stood out against stained fabric, right side of her abdomen. Fingers trembled as they weakly clutched the wound, and Tseng examined the bloodied hand. A bullet hole cut through flesh and bone, hot metal having scorched skin and muscle as it made contact; it had been a close range shot.
"What the hell happened?" Rufus asked, reaching their side. Weakly, eyes opened, and sapphires found dark eyes.
"He…took my gun," Elena managed, voice raspy – almost too meek to consider a whisper. "I…t-tried to…call…had to…to warn…you…"
"Help me get her inside," Tseng instructed, and the president hesitated as eyes fixated on the crimson stains. "Sir, we need to get inside your office, before –"
"Don't bother hiding," a cold voice said, and Tseng turned sharply. "I'll find you either way." A smirk slid over chapped lips and jade eyes gleamed beneath the fluorescent lights. Tseng swallowed against the lump in his throat. Breath shuddered on the air and his heartbeat throbbed in his ears.
"Get inside," he said softly to the president, but the other was rooted in place.
"I should have killed you earlier, Turk," he spat, pacing towards them. "But it doesn't matter now. In the end…you'll meet the same fate." He chuckled, the sound unnatural in Reno's voice; it was dark and cold, and the director shuddered at the foul sound.
"How'd you get out of the restraints?" he asked calmly, taking a step back. The redhead chuckled.
"It wasn't hard," he replied. "Your pet brought her friend some coffee. And in thinking he was himself, I coaxed her into undoing one of them so I could drink to my heart's content."
"…Damn it, Elena," Tseng swore quietly.
"Don't blame her entirely, Director," he added. "After all, I'm aware she isn't just a silly little girl. But she doesn't quite comprehend the danger of her friend, does she? After all, she was the one who protested against all of the tests, wasn't she?" The director hesitated.
"What is it you want, Sephiroth…?" Tseng asked, feigning confidence as he backed towards the office. A hand gently guided the president back as well, pressing against starchy fabric so that he could feel Rufus' body shudder. Onyx fluttered to Elena; he hated to leave her, but…
"What I want?" he repeated mockingly. "What I want is to destroy the people who destroyed me…starting with the company that produced me."
"I – we're doing our best to make amends," the president said hoarsely.
"The ShinRa that created you is gone," Tseng protested, sternly. They were passed the threshold now, and he wondered if Sephiroth sensed what he was trying to do. "The president who approved the Jenova Project – and your creation – died by your blade nearly nine years ago. And the scientist that created you died over a month ago. None of the people remaining had anything to do with the Jenova Project."
"And yet, even under the 'watchful eye' of the naïve president, experiments continued," he answered patiently. "Do you think he doesn't resent you for letting Professor Hojo destroy his body?"
"Don't act as if you know him," the director warned. Quickly, he reached for the door, but enhanced reflexes were quicker. Sephiroth blocked the director, and Tseng knew it was over.
"Don't I?" Sephiroth countered, pacing the office. Mako-green eyes landed on the Masamune and he smirked as a hand wrapped over the hilt. They examined pearl steel, bare fingers tracing the metal delicately as his eyes lingered over the slender form. "Our bodies have become one – and even our minds share life. And it's in those moments…where he hates his friends for not finding him – for letting him become a science project – that I am able to surface. To unleash his true feelings."
"Shut the hell up!" Tseng blurted before he could stop himself. "You don't share, anything, Sephiroth – and Reno sure as hell doesn't want you inside him. When he found out he'd attacked me in the reactor, he acted as though he might be sick!" Metal caught fluorescent light as it hissed through the air, and the director wasn't quick enough. His name echoed through the room, and pain seared through him as the blade embedded in his chest. Tseng winced, willing himself to find his holstered weapon.
"…You should have died in that reactor, Director," cool words said. Catlike eyes gleamed beneath red bangs, and that unnatural smirk slithered over his lips once more. Breath hitched as the sword withdrew, crimson staining the pearl metal. His knees hit the floor, unable to support his weight; his body had had enough, and he knew it. Weakly, eyes found jade, lingering as the sword readied once more.
A gunshot resonated through the office, loud powerful like the climax of a storm, and Sephiroth hesitated as he looked down to the wound. It went straight through the shoulder, blood oozing and staining the starch-white hospital gown. Chuckling, Sephiroth turned.
"Sir…just…r-run," Tseng managed weakly, pulling himself to his feet.
"Fight him, Reno!" Rufus called, shotgun aimed steadily. The redhead approached him, lips turned into a smirk. "Fight him like a Turk!" Suddenly, he hesitated. Narrowed pupils flickered, and his body stiffened. Fingers forced themselves open, and the Masamune clattered to the floor.
"R-Reno…" Tseng realized, eyes watching as Reno's body convulsed; the redhead collapsed to the floor into a crumpled mass. His body trembled, though his consciousness seemed to be slipping from his grasp. Sapphire eyes met onyx, and the pair hesitated. Shaky breaths lingered on the air, like a lazy breeze tugging playfully at tree branches, and Tseng willed himself strength as he limped to the fallen Turk. "Reno…?" the director called weakly, and the president knelt beside the crumpled mass, a gentle hand resting on his wounded shoulder.
Eyes snapped open and fingers wrapped around the Masamune. In one swift motion, the redhead was standing, and the blade whipped around like a snapped tree branch. Tseng fell back, blade cutting across his chest, and he heard Rufus cry out painfully. Onyx eyes opened, weak but determined as he forced himself conscious. Metal whispered against the director's mind, as blurred colors refocused; the air was heavy with a sickly metallic scent, and the bitter taste lingered in his mouth as he spat up blood. Silver flashed as it sank beneath skin, the president's crisp suit stained a deep vermillion.
Weakly, fingers found the holstered gun, and Tseng pulled it to the ready. A warning shot fired, the sound muted against his diminishing mind, and the redhead turned. Hot metal pierced Reno's chest, but Sephiroth persevered, barely hesitating as blood spilled freely from the wound. Footsteps pounded against his mind, in rhythm with his slowing heart rate; the director closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath as he aimed. It ached against his chest, crisp air trapping itself unwillingly for a moment before he allowed it to release. Eyes opened, and he fired.
Reno was suspended, the bullet cutting through flesh and bone in slow motion. One precise shot. The world seemed to stop as he fell backward limply, blood cascading through the air as it leaked from his skull. Finally, he heard the body land, the sword clattering hollowly as it fell beside him. The pistol felt weighty in his suddenly shaking hand, and the director let it fall on the floor. Sucking in another chilled breath as he summoned his strength, Tseng managed to stand, fighting unconsciousness as he staggered to the bodies. His own trembling breath shuddered over the stilled room as he reached them; both still breathed, so it would seem. He pulled the phone from his pocket. Suddenly, his body felt heavier, and he let himself collapse against the desk, supporting himself on the cherry wood surface as he dialed the number.
"This is –"
"R-Reeve…" he managed. "W-we need…medics to the…p-president's office," he said.
"What? What happened?! Is –"
"F-four injured," Tseng said; he closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deeper breaths. "They'll…need r-restraints, too."
"Hang in there, sir," Reeve said, breath heavy as he panted. Clearly he'd started running, no doubt heading to the elevator. "I'm on my way." The last words were lost, and Reeve wondered if the director had hung up.
Tseng's hand fell limply to his lap, phone clattering to the floor as he lost consciousness.
"I can't hold on to me,
wonder what's wrong with me…"
Quotes from Lithium, by Evanescence.