Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, and make no profit from the story-line herein.
"Commander Hewley to see you sir."
Genesis narrowed his eyes from the perch atop his desk; watching as his secretary scurried out of the room. He was sure she had a name, he just couldn't remember it, and she was so mousy and nondescript he couldn't be bothered to look it up. Around him, a sea of scattered papers gave the impression that he was floating on a massive cloud of stationary, but a hint of lacquered oak to the far right proved otherwise. Contrary to what a visitor might think, Genesis was really rather orderly; he just didn't organize things by color or label like Angeal, or by subtexts and alphabetical connotations like Sephiroth. No, the chaos in his room was that of a natural disorder; it didn't mean he didn't know where anything was. Lazard had attempted to send in a cleaning staff twice and the results were ugly. Just because a piece of paper was on the floor didn't mean it was garbage.
"Still rejecting all normal, methodical methods of filing I see" Angeal said dryly, wading across what was supposed to be a stack of finance reports.
"You're just jealous you don't have an eidetic memory" Genesis sniffed, closing his current copy of Loveless with a disdainful snap.
He watched as his childhood friend tried and failed to suppress an eyeroll.
"The only person with a flawless memory in this facility is Sephiroth" was the calm, mellow retort. Leaning against the desk, Angeal handed over a thick manila folder. "Who, as it happens, you're going on a mission with."
Genesis quelled the excitement that rose in his chest with an iron fist. Because he was not eighteen and did not have a poster of Sephiroth on the ceiling over his bed. Ripping open the folder, his excitement waned somewhat as he read over their coordinates.
"The Sleeping Forest?" he muttered. "Never been there."
"I'd imagine most people would echo your sentiment" Angeal said calmly. "The Turks want SOLDIER to chase a lead there. They think the people who killed those children were experimenting on them, which requires some degree of sophistication. However, they were likely hiring out for the kidnappings. They've narrowed down the subject pool to a group of mercenaries affiliated with trafficking, but their base in Midgar is empty and freight records indicate movements North to the Northern Continent, but not to places like Modeoheim or Icicle Inn."
"There's nothing there though" Genesis persisted, flipping through the briefing. "Nothing but miles and miles of forest."
"I imagine that's rather the point" Angeal replied rapping his fist on the desk before standing upright. "Sephiroth is excellent at tracking and you're not half bad at outdoor survival."
"He'll never agree to this" the redhead sighed, letting the folder drop onto the counter. "He already backed out of the mission."
"Well, he's consented again for whatever reason" his friend said cheerfully. "You leave in an hour, I wouldn't spend too much time thinking it over." Wading his way back to the door, he paused. "I'd dress warm if I were you."
Thankfully, the five or six choice words Genesis threw at Angeal's back were drowned out by his pager buzzing with mission specifications. Scrolling through the details, he couldn't fully dismiss his excitement. It was rare to get missions in territories that were sparsely charted. No one knew the full layout of The Sleeping Forest, it was considered a poor place to adventure at leisure. People disappeared in its frigid depths never to be seen again and there were several accounts of nomadic wanderers losing their minds amidst sparkling silver boughs and glassy pools with unknown depths. He'd be a fool to pass up the opportunity, even if it did mean taking orders from Sephiroth.
Hopping down from his desk, Genesis wandered over to one of the few filing cabinets left in his office. Opening it, he ran the combination for the safe within and retrieved his identification papers and his SOLDIER reconnaissance card. He might not need them at all but he wasn't willing to risk it. Sephiroth was famous, but that didn't mean he would vouch for Genesis should the circumstance arise. The idea of calling Lazard to inform him that he'd forgotten his papers and needed a lift 'home' was incredibly unappealing. It was protocol to bring some legally acknowledged means of namesake on missions anyway, it was just rare to see anyone above the rank of 3RD actually comply. Snatching up a copy of LOVELESS that had seen possibly one too many winters; Genesis coded the lock to his office and gave his secretary her usual daily glare before informing her he was leaving indefinitely and that under no circumstances should his study be disturbed. He thought he heard her respond when he was halfway down the hall to the lift, but was too invested in his destination at that point to turn around.
Outfitting was less-than-thrilled about his request for red snow gear; Genesis left with standard-colored equipment, feeling as if the world didn't quite understand a man's need to make a statement...isolated forest be damned. From Outfitting he descended several floors up to the helipad, a rucksack with rations, survival gear, clothes, maps, radios, and a thermal sleeping bag slung over his shoulder. The weather was somewhat cold and virulently breezy, standard for the altitude; Sephiroth was waiting next to a chopper looking decidedly less-than-thrilled. The bird in question was company-affiliated, and would only transfer them outside of city limits. Normally, Genesis might have balked at the stops they were going to be forced to make along the way, but the opportunity of getting out of Midgar was still too attractive to dismiss in favor of discontent.
"Could've hopped a loco" Genesis shouted over the sound of the rotors as he swung into the right-side passenger seat.
"Not discreet" was the tight-lipped reply as Sephiroth signaled the pilot and echoed his movements. Reaching toward the mess of tangled cords in front of them, the General tossed him a headset before retrieving one of his own. "We don't want to be followed."
"Ah, so this is all you then" Genesis muttered, shoving his bag under his seat. The look his fellow SOLDIER gave him was half-exasperated and half-incredulous. "Well you've got to admit it'd be hard to complete a stealth mission with several hundred fangirls tailing us."
"There's a plug to disable the microphones" Sephiroth said idly, tilting his head up and scanning the dashboard on the ceiling.
"You wouldn't happen to have gotten a tent, would you?" Genesis continued, switching conversational tactics whilst unbuckling Rapier and settling it between his knees. "I've got a sleeping bag and that's it."
"I did" was the neutral reply. "Close quarters but it'll have to do."
"Well we weren't going to get a mansion" the redheaded man replied, leaning over to watch as the helicopter began to ascend. "Any particular reason you decided to reassign yourself to this mission?"
There was a long stretch of silence, and Genesis glanced over to see a flicker of uncertainty dance over Sephiroth's normally impassive features before they rearranged themselves into an indifferent sort of smugness.
"Couldn't let you claim all the glory could I?" he said dryly, shaking a loose strand of silver hair out of his face. "Let you do too many missions like this on your own and you'll be a General by the end of the month."
Genesis was painfully aware of the fact that a few months ago such a statement would have tossed him into a rage. A small, petty part of himself balked at the idea of letting it go. Still, any residual angst that might have remained was crushed under the brittle bravado in Sephiroth's tone; in the way his hand strayed to pull at the leather in the center of his palm before snatching it back. For more than the first time in a month, the redhead acknowledged the fact that Angeal would have been trying and failing not to beam at him for his 'restraint' and 'maturity'. And it wasn't so much his pride that kept him silent as much as it was the knowledge that everything Sephiroth had just said to him was complete and utter bullshit.
Tseng was waiting for them at the edge of the Plate next to a company truck that looked like it had seen better days. They disembarked and threw their belongings into the bed of the vehicle before turning to listen to what the Turk had to say; the sound of the helicopter fading away into the distance.
"It's up to the two of you to decide who you want to drive" Tseng said calmly. "You'll only be taking it as far as Kalm, I don't think I need to tell either of you to watch for Zoloms. Once you arrive in Kalm there will be transport ready for you to cross the Straights. You'll be permitted one Shinra-funded night to stay in the inn and your contact will be a local named Feir Benlet; he will arrive to take you to the shores at 0630. Your last stop will be in Bone Village, and from there you'll be on your own. Your radios should work up until a point, reports indicate that long-distance communication often fails within ten miles of the forest."
"Is that it?" Genesis demanded impatiently, Tseng smirked.
"There's...one more thing you should be aware of. Should you fail to return within the allotted of time, Shinra forfeits any responsibility to send in a search and rescue party. This is uncharted territory with a fair amount of unnatural happenstance, the company won't waste resources on a lost cause. Two months subsequent to your failure to arrive back in Bone Village, your families will be informed of your disappearance and you will be assumed dead."
There was a long stretch of silence.
"Cheerful" Sephiroth remarked, turning towards the truck. "Thank you for your time, Shien*."
Tseing favored Genesis with a raised eyebrow before turning to make his way back towards the center of the plate, the glint of what looked like a motorcycle was barely visible between two bored-looking Thirds. From where they stood, the upper-expanse of Midgar was a glittering plethora of steel and industry; wheel upon wheel of stylized futurism rushing inwards to the twisting spiral that was Shinra. The gates were manned by both the local police and the Guard; Seconds who chose public service over military pursuit. The glitter of mako was barely visible from such a distance, but even the smallest glimpse gave the city an eerie netherworld quality; reflected like so many ghosts between glass, chrome, and towering structures. Genesis was reminded once again that while his name was undeniably established, it could be easily forgotten. The construction of Midgar had pulled hundreds upon hundreds of thousands of people into one area that-when one considered the sheer number of individuals living in one place-was not all that large at all. People took interest in Shinra's Firsts because they were figureheads-societal mascots-but if one of them should fall out of favor with the company, it would be very easy to make it seem like they'd died in combat or simply retired. It was not altogether comforting to consider himself expendable, but he was. Even Sephiroth was expendable, though it would-admittedly-take a considerable amount effort to put him out of commission.
"We should go now, or we won't reach Kalm before midnight."
Genesis startled as the General's slow, sangfroid voice cut across his brooding like the gradual but inevitable march of a glacier. Shaking himself, he cast one last glance over the massive expanse of a city before turning to face Sephiroth, who was standing perhaps two yards behind him looking like his usual unemotional mass of perfection. Kicking idly at a stray pebble, he let his gaze drift behind them; scanning the horizon more out of habitual practice than necessity. The land outside of Midgar was desolate and unremarkable; with mile upon mile of dusty, reddish-colored outcroppings and steep gullies with no observable cause of formation. Old, dusty documents in the back of the Records Department indicated that the entirety of Midgar had once been covered with lakes, forests and streams; most of which had been redirected or used for facilities as the city was built above and upon it. Genesis couldn't quite fathom the need to wipe out an entire ecosystem in the face of industry, but he'd gone into the military knowing very well that environmental activism was not his forte. It wasn't his job to ask questions.
"You want to drive?" Genesis' question earned him a dour look as Sephiroth slid into the passenger seat and reached forward to rifle through the glove box. "Map?"
"We'll follow the main road North" was the dry response. "Kalm is smaller than Midgar but still accessible via the highway."
"...All that yap about Zoloms?" the redhead muttered, turning the key and gritting his teeth as the truck sputtered to life; an expanse of black smoke encompassing them for a few moments.
"Unlikely unless food is scarce, they're more prominent near the mines and mating season just ended."
"You been before?"
Sephiroth paused, in the process of pulling what looked like a large, blinking vehicular battery from a glove box that was evidently much more spacious than most.
"When I was...younger, I passed through it briefly on my way to Shinra."
"Oh? Do tell." Yanking the wheel sharply to the left, Genesis pulled onto the main road and shifted gears.
"It's irrelevant" his travel companion replied, a thin vein of impatience seeping into his tone.
"And that?" the redhead queried, nodding at the 'battery.'
"A deterrent, for...wildlife. Shinra started outfitting repellant transmitters when we lost sixty SOLDIERS en route to Costa del Sol."
"Lost sixty soldiers to what?" Genesis sputtered, aghast.
"A Ghidra, I believe" was the idle response. "They're fond of tossing trucks."
Genesis fought the sliver of semi-hysterical laughter that attempted to force its way past his lips with little success. What came out was somewhere between a deranged scream of hilarity and a vicious sneeze. Glancing to the side, he was unsurprised to see Sephiroth looking as unruffled as usual, only the slightest upturn of his lip was any indication of the man's amusement. As it was, it was the last bit of encouragement Genesis needed to dissolve into a series of unflattering guffaws. The truck swerved dangerously for a minute before he righted it.
"Oh-heh-fuck you man. I-I didn't need that mental picture-tch!"
"You can look it up in mission records. Nobody talks about it, I've found."
"Yeah, no thanks" Genesis muttered, sobering slightly. "Doesn't matter how you slice it, that's still sixty DNs that had to be sent to families...and sixty good SOLDIERS died for nothing. Doesn't really surprise me that nobody talks about it."
"I've never heard anyone who has spent more than ten years in service call their time enlisted 'worth it'" Sephiroth mused. "It's always struck me as strange."
"Well I wouldn't call sticking your neck out and hoping it doesn't get separated from your head 'worth it'" Genesis replied, squinting slightly as a cloud of dust was thrown up from the tires. "It's about honor, and renown and all that...that's what's 'worth it.'" He glanced over at Sephiroth, who was turning a dial-knob on the transmitter. "What about you?"
The silver-haired man paused.
"What about me?"
"Well...you were basically raised in the program, is it everything you ever wanted? Haven't you ever wanted more?"
There was a long stretch of silence as the General considered his question.
"I...never particularly considered it" was the quiet reply. "And, realistically, even if I did want more it is very unlikely I'd get it. My contract contains strict stipulations regarding my lifestyle that I cannot challenge without heavy consequences."
Genesis frowned, eyeing the road ahead of them with a feeling of unease.
"Doesn't Shinra having so much power over you...bother you? I think if I was in your position I'd go AWOL."
"It wouldn't matter" was the clipped response. "I'd be constantly on the run, Shinra isn't the type to let their prized possessions wander far. That's not living."
"Doesn't seem like you do much 'living' regardless."
"I'm used to it. When you don't have indulgences it's rather difficult to fathom wanting any."
"But... isn't there anything that makes you happy? Something you look forward to coming home to at the end of a long mission?"
Sephiroth appeared to consider his query, his gaze focused out the window to their right.
"I...am fond of baths."
Genesis tried and failed to suppress the small uprising of indignation that rose in his throat on Sephiroth's behalf. Swallowing, he focused on the road ahead, afraid that if he opened his mouth he'd say something truly regrettable. Traffic immediately around Midgar was sparse; this was mostly due to the fact that the majority of shipments came and went by air, and few families considered it a necessity to travel outside the boundaries of the metropolis. Travel for the sake of exploratory leisure was not a popular fad, and it was not particularly encouraged. An individual could take a plane to Costa del Sol and other commonplace vacations spots, but the places between them were rarely traversed; merely flown over. Speed was a necessity society had come to rely on and it was neither worth the money or the risk to travel by land. That being said, they passed three or four trucks with obscure subdivision labels headed in the opposite direction, and a blurred figure on a motorbike shouted a vague obscenity that was immediately yanked away by the unforgiving wind. Having apparently set up the repellent transmitter, Sephiroth shoved it back into the glove box; folding his arms and directing his gaze out the window with an unfathomable expression.
Night descended quickly once dusk dug its claws into the dusty earth around them. Sunset was something swift and unforgiving, even on Midgar. The days were short; like a monster freshly slain in the last throes of death...darkness reigned far longer over the planet and each passing year the time between sunrise and sunset seemed to grow shorter. It was no uncommon occurrence; Gaia's axis went through a seemingly ever-changeable cycle of transformation. Genesis had no real fascination for astrology...but the planet, his planet, was worthy of occasional fixation. Even as a child, he'd been forced to acknowledge that his love of the land was far greater than his love of anything else. His father was quick to dismiss his infatuation, impatient with a son who did little but defy every expectation placed before him. His mother was less reticent but not nearly as knowledgeable, and what little information she could provide quickly fell tepid on ears that had heard such tales too many times before. And so he was forced to read in order to expand his curiosity, until he stumbled across Loveless and could find nothing more succinct-more incisive-to describe the glory of the planet.
"All that awaits you is a somber morrow."
"Don't start" Sephiroth grumbled. "This truck is loud enough without your ridiculous need to enumerate antiquated...poesy."
"Don't let the drill sergeant catch you saying something as flowery as 'poesy'" Genesis retorted.
The silver-haired General opened his mouth to reply before he sat up abruptly in his seat, his eyes narrowed and focused ahead. Returning his concentration to the road, Genesis yelped and swerved violently to the left to avoid a solid wall of what appeared to be scales. There was a hiss as Masamune was unsheathed and his driving companion disappeared out the window in a flash of silver and black. The subtlety of Sephiroth's utterance of movement was drowned out by an earsplitting screech that seemed to shake the very earth. Braking, Genesis threw himself out of the vehicle in time to avoid another pass by what could now be identified as a massive, serpentine tail. It missed the truck by inches to smash into a large pillar of rottenstone; sending a spray of reddish-brown rock perhaps three hundred feet into the air. Yanking Rapier out of its scabbard, Genesis squinted in the poor light as the mako in his eyes adjusted his vision to accommodate. A flash of silver caught his attention and he watched with an incredulous sort of derision as Sephiroth appeared atop a giant, reptilian head the size of a high-rise.
The creature in question was indeed a Zolom, though in the thick of it all, Genesis couldn't rightly say whether it was male or female. Only a blind idiot would be unimpressed by the amount of raw power before him. Zoloms were massive snakes as thick as buildings were wide and often several stories tall. They ranged in color from a murky green to black and had stunning, murderous eyes the size of dinner plates. Their venom-if administered-was enough to lay a FIRST down in less than five seconds, but that was only if you could keep up with their speed and strength. As trainees Genesis and Angeal had often joked about slaying the rare behemoths that haunted the far reaches of Gaia. That was before Genesis came face to face with a Marlboro during what should have been a standard reconnaissance mission. He barely escaped with his life and there was no more joking after that.
Ducking to avoid a thick coil of musculature, Genesis vaulted precariously onto the undulating beast and traced Sephiroth's footsteps up to the head. As far as upward treks went, it wasn't exactly the most pleasant. The scales were nearly sharp enough to slice through his uniform without any effort at all, and he was forced to move constantly to avoid cutting himself in half. By the time he'd reached his destination Sephiroth was rather casually sliding downwards to deal a cranial blow. Catching an arcing movement to his left, Genesis barely had time to plant his feet and orient Rapier before slicing through a section of tail that would have knocked them off of their perch. His reward was another head-splitting screech and he stumbled as a smattering of black blood burned its way across his cheek.
"Try to avoid bloodshed unless you're aligned for a killing blow" Sephiroth barked, pitching his voice over the cacophony of wind and roaring serpent whilst toeing the center of the giant, thrashing, hooded head as if searching for a weak spot. "It's acidic."
"Gaia" Genesis swore, clapping a hand to his cheek and feeling the braised dermis. Already, the mako in his system was working to rectify the issue; knitting meat and sinew with a precision that was both familiar yet still somehow incredibly disturbing. "And are you 'lined up for a killing blow' yet?!"
His silver-haired comrade appeared to pause, as if considering something. Masamune was adjusted in his grip to point directly downwards, glittering ominously by the light of slowly emerging stars. Silhouetted at his back, at least a hundred miles away by now was the ghostly green glow of Midgar; the faint illumination left in its wake throwing him into sharp relief. Not for the first time, Genesis was struck by how achingly beautiful the General was...though such knowledge seemed to continuously escape the man himself. Poised on top of a Zolom with a days' worth of dust coating his clothes and he was still stupidly attractive. Swallowing, Genesis forced himself to look away, bitterness coating his tongue. In all likeliness, Sephiroth had been engineered to appear the way he did...if his suspicions about his upbringing were right. He didn't dare ask. It was, in a way, a mark of both the tactical brilliance and terrible cruelty of Shinra. Because as perfect Sephiroth was on the battlefield, he was equally imperfect in the ways that made people human.
He didn't look as another deafening howl split the air, signaling the end of of their close-quarter combat session. Instead, Genesis braced himself against the fluttering edge of the Zolom's hood; watching as the ground rushed up to meet them, twisting to avoid landing directly in a puddle of noir sanguinity. He could feel Sephiroth watching him with a detached sort of curiosity, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Glancing at the serpentine coils writhing about them, Genesis could honestly say that he'd never felt so old. Wiping Rapier in the reddish dust felt like a heinous transgression, but there was nothing for it. Damage to the truck was-thankfully-minimal enough that it would at least get them to where they needed to go and he forced himself to pace its circumference to check for leaks before joining Sephiroth in the cab.
"We're only an hour out from Kalm" the General said quietly.
"Good. I'm ready for a bath" Genesis muttered. He glanced over at the now eerily silent corpse; silhouetted against the moon like some terrible testament to the violence of the Planet. "Reckon we should call it in?"
"No" was the hoarse reply, and he looked over in surprise to see Sephiroth scrubbing his eyes. "Leave it."
The ghost of a smirk flickered over Genesis' lips.
"Tired?"
Black-gloved hands clenched convulsively before settling.
"I'm not immortal, Genesis."
The truck started up with a groan and a shudder, rattling in the wastes like so many metal bones shivering in the sand. It wasn't until they were several miles down the road that the redheaded man garnered any sort of response, and even then it was to the point and deliberately gentle….;
"No, you're not."
*On the use of Shien: This was originally thought to be the actual translation of Tseng's first name, but was eventually proven to be incorrect. As such, I thought it only fitting to use it as a last name.
Thanks for reading!
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