The air of the bay crackled with anticipation as WRO soldiers peered out into the open sky over Midgar. The open door of the airship's cargo hold offered a view both breathtaking and paralyzing: The ruins hundreds of feet below smouldered in a dark silence, readily awaiting the coming attack. The calm of Deepground threatened to penetrate the confidence of the youngest WRO members preparing for their first true offensive rush. The front line soldiers strapped their boots into the metal boards that could carry them through the sky and control their in-flight maneuverability. Behind them, Vincent leaned on a wooden crate, loading his weapons. Aria sat next to him, knees pulled tightly into her chest.

"You're not blinking," he said quietly, eyes never leaving his pistol.

"Ha."

"You're far too brave to fear this. Legend has it you dove headfirst into the Northern Crater."

"Not headfirst. And not without the help of Jenova. What will put me back together this time?"

"You could always just hang back. You're good at that," Yuffie chimed in from several feet away. Vincent shot her a look that caused her to turn away. Aria shook her head dismissively.

"It'll take more than that to get under my skin, little girl," she replied too quietly for the ninja to hear.

"Shelke found my phone in Kalm. She modified it to connect to her station so that she can guide us into Deepground. Should we get separated, she can plan a route for us to reconnect. You're patched in through this," he said, handing her a small earpiece. She took it from him slowly, examining it before sliding it over her left ear.

"She did that on her own?" Aria asked, surprised by the girl's interest in helping the WRO.

Vincent nodded. "I told her we were counting on her. She didn't seem to know what to think about that."

"It can be disorienting...so suddenly working for the good guys."

He glanced at her face to see the grin that he could hear in her voice. She raised an eyebrow. He smirked and tilted his head toward the back row of gliders.

"Suit up, Soldier."

"This doesn't bother you at all, does it? Hundreds of people are going to be trying to shoot us out of the air, and you're unfazed." She shook her head as she reluctantly slipped off the crate and stepped onto a board. Her boots clicked into place easily, though she tested their security twice. Vincent locked himself onto the board nearest her and sighed.

"Resignation and 'unbothered' are not mutually exclusive."

"You got that right."

With that, the first bullet grazed the Shera, and the sky soon filled with small missiles. The ships surrounding the Shera dove and maneuvered out of the many lines of fire, creating an opening for the troops.

Cid's voice echoed through the bay. "This is it! Go!"

The front line slid down the angled bay and disappeared into the sky below. From just beyond the doors, Yuffie's voice could be heard shouting, "Going down!"

Aria watched sky; Vincent watched her.

"See you on the ground."

"I'll be the one kissing it."

As he turned to face the open air again, the signature scream of a flying missile tore through the sky. Time seemed to slow as it blasted into the ship portside the Shera. Though they could not see the smaller ship careen under the impact, the sound of its propellers tearing through the walls of the bay was enough to send the remaining troops gliding into the sky, barely missing the explosion that followed.

Vincent allowed himself to turn a full vertical revolution in order to look back at the ship. He exhaled upon seeing it flying steady, a trail of smoke coming only from the damaged bay.

"Eyes forward, Soldier," Aria shouted from behind. Her voice caused him to turn and focus on his descent, avoiding lines of machine gun fire and missiles from below. Every few seconds he glanced in her direction, their eyes meeting quickly almost every time. In one glance, she nodded to the air behind him, causing him to turn and face a Deepground helicopter head on. Cerberus made quick work of the propellers, sending the aircraft spiraling down into the ruins below, but not before sending Vincent into a steady stream of fire. Bullets ricocheted off the bottom of his board, forcing him to leave the planned route down for a safer landing. A quick glance behind told him that Aria had not been able to follow.

Sliding down the massive barrel of the Sister Ray, sparks flew wildly at Vincent's feet. He was grateful for the detour into quieter territory, happy to land outside of the battleground. And as he made his landing alone, he silently thanked Shelke for the quickly-devised line of communication.

Once steadily on his own feet, Vincent looked around the darkened sector in which he'd landed. The trainyard did not welcome him warmly.

Mere seconds passed until the phone in his pocket rang, and as he opened it, he was greeted with a heavy sigh.

"What do you think you are doing?" Shelke asked. "You have landed several klicks off your target destination. However, considering the location of the enemy, this could work to your advantage. Head for the central complex and locate a means of reaching the top level. You will only be able to enter Deepground from the upper platform. I'll contact you again. Shelke out."

He held the phone a moment longer, eyes scanning his surroundings as he listened to the crackle of the open line. The static seemed to grow louder with every second that passed as he waited for some confirmation of Aria's landing. It came in a string of curses followed by nervous laughter. He grinned.

"You're okay?" he asked into the phone.

"Ah, I'm fine. I made it. I saw that lightshow on the canon. Where did that land you?"

"I'm in the trainyard. You?"

"Not far. I'm at six's gate. I'll meet you at the base of the cannon. Just outside the complex."

"Are you alone?"

"No. I caught up to a squadron."

"Okay. At the cannon, then."

With that, he snapped the phone closed and headed into the trainyard.

"The attack has begun. Highwind's fleet just dropped hundreds of troopers into Midgar, aiming at the HQ. They're headed for the Deepground complex. Valentine and Marx are among them."

Rufus rubbed his eyes as Tseng spoke, neither ignoring nor responding to the sound of his voice. Instead, he watched Reno enter the room. The Turk realized the attention he'd earned and cleared his throat.

"Your guess is as good as mine, but I think I have a theory. From the little information I've gathered, I know that 'Restrictor' was just another name for the Lost Force, the 14th division of Soldier. They controlled Deepground for awhile, training the troops, developing the skills of the Tsviets. Those Tsviets had to come from somewhere. We saw one at the WRO building, Shelke Rui, the younger sister of a WRO scientist. I don't have the birth names of any of the others, but I know the connection to Project G."

Rufus leaned forward.

"Those color-centric Tsviets have had their genes spliced with those of Rhapsodos."

"Oh my god," Rufus sighed, his palm pressing into his forehead. "No wonder."

"The dying Restrictor that met Marx in Cosmo told her she wasn't alone, right? And we know now that she had a twin sister that died in the Cosmo caves as a child. And we know that when she was brought into the Turks, she had a clause in her contract preventing anyone from looking into her family history or, if they knew her story, from using it against her. What was that all about?"

Rufus answered, "Her identity. She was not who she said she was. Pure Strand, the broken link to the Lifestream. By pretending to be her sister, she kept the scientists from experimenting on her DNA. A project we will no longer undertake in this company, by the way."

"Right, but that decision wasn't hers. She was only a kid when her family decided to change her name and make her live as her sister. The sister who had been taken by rogue Shinra operatives into Deepground and turned into a bloodthirsty Tsviet, now ready to wreak havoc on what's left of our city, and all the people who never came looking for her."

"How did you learn this?" Tseng asked.

"I read the files on Project G. A lot of them, anyway. They were sort of strewn all over Marx's floor."

"So she knows," Rufus both stated and asked. "And what did you just say?"

"I don't know. I mean, like I said, it's just a theory. I don't have any hard evidence on the Marx connection. I can't prove anything about where Rosso came from. But...she had to come from somewhere," he repeated.

"And about the files on her floor?"

"Ooh, that. Yeah. Yeah, we went to HQ after the Gala. She wanted those files."

"She shouldn't have access…" Tseng began to protest, but dropped the words before they amounted to a reprimand.

"No, I know. I let her in. I gave them to her."

"Of course you did."

"Yeah. She fucked up pretty bad after Meteorfall. But we fucked up pretty bad before it. Everyone lashed out at everyone else, and people got killed. But I have pretty good instincts, one of my finer qualities, and something tells me she ain't interested in hurting us anymore. So, I let her in. I gave her the info because she thought she could do something good with it, back when it was just people disappearing in the ruins. Nobody knew it would turn into this."

"We can't just sit here." Reno and Tseng turned to Rufus as he spoke. "I understand the need for caution when the company is under a direct and specific threat," he added, standing. "This is not the case. Deepground isn't after Shinra. It's after the planet itself. We're on the brink of genocide, and it will not happen in my city without a fight. Not when the people who know that region best are standing right here."

Reno stepped in front of Rufus, looking intently into his icy eyes.

"Nobody holds you accountable for the sins of your father. This is not your fault."

"Perhaps not. But they will hold me responsible if I do not fight back. As they should."

Tseng stepped forward. "Sir, Deepground is everywhere. Your life will be in jeopardy out there. Let us go for you. Or at least let us go first. We need to have a plan."

Reno looked to Rufus for a response, genuinely unsure of how this conversation would end. After a long pause, Rufus nodded once.

"Fine. Tseng, make your calls, gather a team and come back in an hour. We'll head out then."

"Sir."

With that, Tseng exited the room, already pulling his phone from his pocket. Rufus stared into the floor, his mind clearly too busy for his eyes to focus. Reno shifted his weight, interpreting the expression on his boss's face. Only seconds into the silence, the realization hit.

"Oh," Reno said quietly. "Okay. Can I at least come with you?"

Eyes still distance, Rufus spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "Do you know my favorite trait of yours? One you share with Marx." Reno tilted his head with a lopsided smile, interested in this train of thought. Rufus continued.

"You fearlessly wear your heart on your sleeve. I so rarely have to wonder how you feel, what you think."

Reno arched an eyebrow, then smiled. "Up against your stone wall, I try to keep it simple."

Rufus nodded and met his gaze. The intensity in the president's eyes caused Reno's smile to fade. "I can't predict how this will end. The odds are not stacked in anyone's favor. That scares the hell out of me. But I caught a glimpse of the end once already. When the Weapon attacked Midgar...I thought that was it. And I thought I was going to die in that building, unable to defend myself from behind the glass of my office, unable to escape the tower. I have no military to advise, no defenses to prepare. So, if I'm going to die, I'm going to do it with a gun in my hand, fighting for my city, my company. For the planet. For those who have already thrown themselves into the fight. For Strife, Valentine. Maybe even for Marx." Reno's eyes fell to his own hands. Rufus reached out a hand to tilt his chin back up, forcing their eyes to meet again. "And for you."

Reno drew a deep breath, his shoulders visibly tense as he searched for the right response. Rufus closed the distance between them, one hand burying itself in messy red hair while the other cupped Reno's sharp jaw, their lips connecting gently at first, then more deeply as each relaxed into the other. Reno pressed as much of his body as possible into Rufus's, his arms wrapping possessively around the blond's neck. They remained locked together for a moment that, under normal circumstances, might have seemed long. On this day, it was painfully brief, and served as an obvious incentive for each man to survive whatever mess they were about to walk into.

Rufus pulled away slowly, then, satisfied smirk coloring his features, crossed the room to the tall cabinet opposite the door. He opened it swiftly, pulled out a familiar shotgun, and turned to face Reno. The Turk rolled his shoulders twice.

"Let's send 'em back to Hell, boss."

When Tseng entered the room an hour later, it was empty. Somehow, he was not surprised.