The Warrior

by Faerlyte

Chapter 3

The hall was nearly deserted when Tifa and Chaka emerged from the elevator. There were a couple SOLDIERs that came and went, but for the most part it was empty. Testing wouldn't begin until seven and everyone was still eating or out and about somewhere.

At least if they got to the simulator early she'd have some experience fighting in it and be better prepared for what the tests might have to offer.

They arrived at the Training Room door and went inside. Chaka gave her a rundown of the controls for setting up a custom sequence, which was a lot less complicated than she would've thought. The more she learned about it, the greater her excitement grew.

She could come in here at night when no one else was around and bring to life whatever setting she desired. It was like a dream. She could even go home…

"Here we go," Chaka dialed in some numbers and went to the entrance, punching the door panel. It slid open, revealing a cold, still room bereft of any adornment.

Tifa followed more slowly behind him, eyes peering at the blank gray walls with a sinking feeling. Then the door shut and the scene shifted. The air crackled with energy as tiny particles began to take shape.

Next thing she knew they were standing in a vast plain with an enormous tree nearby. Its branches grew out in a fan-like formation with a wide, tall canopy. She'd never seen one in real life before, but recognized it from pictures of the southern plains.

Chaka turned to face her with a grin, "A little bit of home." He said and settled into his battle stance.

A man that tall and lanky shouldn't have been capable of such sudden speed, but he was. It took some time for Tifa to adjust. How were they all so fast?

The experience was far more enjoyable than she had expected, in part because Chaka seemed more adamant to teach than to win. He was more advanced in training than her, but not quite as strong as Angeal. He had a way of fighting that was almost casual, as if he didn't need to apply himself because his heart really wasn't in it.

So instead he advised her.

"Wait, stand like this." He would say and she would try. "That's better."

Or, "When I do this," He demonstrated an attack maneuver, "You do this." And he would counter what he'd just done, using her as his test dummy. Then he grinned down at her where she lay sprawled on the grass. "Your turn."

They continued like that for thirty minutes and at the very end Tifa scraped out a narrow victory. By then a small audience had gathered, including Sephiroth himself, but Tifa didn't know that.

She quickly helped Chaka to his feet and it was then that the door slid open and the General appeared.

Tifa stood rigidly watching him. His eyes lingered on her for a fraction longer than normal.

When he spoke, however, it was to address Chaka, "We have need of the simulator." He said. "I believe Angeal has posted another assignment in your log."

"Excellent." Chaka replied.

He bid Tifa goodbye and insisted that she take his phone number for when she got around to looking in her locker for her phone. She had forgotten about it earlier in the midst of their conversation about Sephiroth's sex life. Thinking about it now, when she was in such close proximity to the man himself, made her blush all over again.

Tifa thought she might never be able to put that image from her mind. For a fleeting moment he was human again, not the monster she remembered. Maybe he had been, once upon a time.

She cast a withering glance in his direction and walked by him without a word. He probably noticed that too, despite the visor. His eyes were burning holes into her back as she left.

Angeal showed up presently and gave the recruits a run down on the situation. Testing would run alphabetically according to last names, which meant that she was going to be waiting a little while for her turn. None of the recruits were allowed into the observatory while testing was taking place, so everyone was herded out into the lounge except for the first name on the list.

Tifa found a secluded corner to sit down on the floor and leaned her head back against the wall with a sigh. She found herself dozing before she realized her eyes had even closed and jerked awake with a start, glancing around sharply. Nothing had changed, but the air seemed to crackle with the buildup of tension in the room.

The door to the Training Room swished open and a dejected figure limped out. He bowed his head, pushed off any condolences from his comrades, and went straight for the elevators without so much as a "Leave me alone."

He was not the only one. She watched several leave the dreaded test taken down a few notches from when they'd entered. No one was boasting anymore and those who still waited with her had become eerily quiet.

Then it was her turn. She didn't know how much time had passed, but as soon as Angeal appeared and her name was called, she jumped to her feet and felt the nerves taking root. Her legs did not betray her as she crossed the roomed and entered the observatory, but she felt the quickness of breath and the sudden shiver of anticipation.

Sephiroth stood staring through the glass window that looked into the simulator room. He didn't see her or appear to even notice her arrival. She was just another anonymous face in blue again.

"You received sniper training?" Angeal stood off to her left, a file in hand as he peered up at her curiously.

She nodded. "Yes sir." New recruits were allowed their firearms of choice for testing. Most of them carried autos or semi-autos, but her sergeant had apparently seen something in her that persuaded him to hand her a sniper rifle instead.

Her superior officer closed the file with a snap. "Very well. A rifle will be provided during simulation."

Tifa had no prior knowledge or interest in firearms, but learning to use them was a stipulation of joining SOLDIER at the basic level. Everyone had to know how to handle firearms or they were out the door. Initially it had annoyed her, now she was glad.

It is unwise to be ignorant about something that dangerous. Knowledge is power, power is to be respected, and respect prevents accidents.

Angeal had launched into a lecture concerning the use of the room itself, its functions, certain precautions, and so forth. She listened carefully, trying not to let her mind wander to the other occupant in the room. He was watching her from the corners of his eyes.

"Injury sustained in the simulator is real. Don't let yourself get killed." Angeal's voice penetrated her inattentiveness.

"Defeat your opponents and you will move onto the next challenge. You will be provided with limited provisions and healing items, as well as rudimentary materia."

Did they expect her to do all the challenges in one go? Tifa frowned slightly. Just how many challenges were there?

She was directed to enter the room and all questions or thoughts of Sephiroth were erased from her mind. Her fingers flexed anxiously as the room began to take shape. A metal hallway pierced by blue ceiling lamps stretched out in front of her. It was empty and quiet.

Tifa gave a shudder and shouldered her sniper rifle before setting off. She glanced behind to verify that there were no other routes to take, and that there was officially no escape. She kept her eyes peeled, which had, ironically, been Sephiroth's earlier advice. Her focus was such that that little fact slipped past.

There were robots patrolling the halls ahead. She could hear the mechanical hum of their engines long before they came into view. Tifa's scowl of concentration deepened and beads of sweat began materializing along her brow. She had a thunder materia equipped, which would help, but fists and feet were not as effective against robotics. It basically limited her to using power attacks, which drained both magic and energy.

Tifa swung the sniper rifle around and tucked the stock against her shoulder, gripping the forearm firmly in her left hand as her right grasped the pistol grip behind the trigger. One eye closed as she peered through the scope at her target, taking aim at its electronic core, or what she thought was its brain.

The cross-airs leveled slowly on the spot she had chosen and she squeezed the trigger. The gunshot blasted down the hall, the noise magnified tenfold by the enclosed space. Her helmet was designed to smother loud noises that were potentially harmful to the ears, but it still gave her head a good ring.

The robot whirled off to one side and crashed into the wall before collapsing to the floor in a crackling heap. Satisfied, Tifa shouldered her rifle and continued on. She probably wouldn't earn many points for eliminating the adversary with firepower, but neither was she enthusiastic about bruising her hands on solid steel this early in the game.

Besides, everyone else would be blasting away without restraint. She couldn't be doing any worse.

Two more robots confronted her. The first she was able to shoot down, but the second was too close and she had to engage it hand to hand. Most robots had gun based attacks, which, without a suitable barrier spell on hand, were extremely lethal. SOLDIERs did wear body armor though and hers was especially strong.

It was a good thing too because she was sure that in the midst of her ducking and running she had taken at least one bullet. She threw in an attack here and there, striking for its vital parts, which consisted of exposed wiring and joints. Her strength was ebbing though – she hadn't expected the challenge to be this difficult.

Robots were both strong and intelligent. It took time to wear them down, but Tifa was trying to persevere. Trying and failing. The only thing that kept her going was Cloud, because it was for him that she did this, and it was for him that she would fight to the death.

She managed to dispatch part of its targeting system and one of its machine guns, which gave her time to cast. A thunderclap struck the robot's body and the contraption fell into singed pieces on the floor. Then it vanished.

The deeper Tifa explored, the more convoluted and confusing the corridors became. She ended up in a dead end at one point, spent half an hour disposing of another robot, and backtracked to where the last fork in the path had been. There she took the other route and eventually wound up in an extensive room with a high ceiling and curved walls.

In the center of it waited a monster of respectable size. Tifa didn't recognize it, but she could sense its power as it approached, and her skin rippled with the first vestiges of real fear.

It stood on four legs and had what appeared to be the head of a lion (though it was hardly noble), the ungainly wings of a bird, and a multi colored body that was reminiscent of a lizard. Tifa grimaced at the smell wafting from it, for it was fetid and sour. The creature was entirely unnatural and ghastly in its mutation.

Tifa almost preferred the robots, though the beast's hide, while tough in its own right, was not near as resistant. She put a bullet into it first, but its barrier deflected most of the damage, so she discarded the rifle and settled into her combat stance.

The creature was not overly fast for its wings were crooked and awkward, and while it could fly, it didn't fly well. Tifa was able to keep out of its reach whenever it took to the air or attempted to dive bomb, for its direction was poor in flight and often times it crashed on the landing. Then she would slip in to attack, land as many hits as she could, and retreat back to a safe distance.

Avoiding its front talons was most imperative. They were long and quick; one successful hit from them and she might not get up again. Fortunately for her, the beast was helping her out by taking to the air frequently and putting itself into a bad position.

Tifa got her opening when the beast miscalculated its flight path and crashed into the wall. She landed a punch to the front right leg and snapped the kneecap. The creature reared back and roared, unleashing a shockwave that blasted her back several feet. A tiny sliver of pain lanced up her right leg from a pinched nerve in her ankle on the landing and she straightened shakily.

Her mouth set in a determined line as she considered the monster. Her legs flexed, ready to spring, and her gloves became taught over her clenched fingers.

She moved swiftly, summoning her strength from overlimit, and ducked under the creature's swiping claws to land a series of punches. Her hands throbbed with each blow, but she could hear the splintering of bone and the enraged cry of the beast, and she could feel its innards collapsing under her knuckles.

With one last burst of speed and adrenaline, Tifa flipped into the air and made a kick at the lion's head with her steel toed boot. There was a loud "pop" as the vertebra snapped under the impact and its neck went limp. It was dead before she hit the ground.

Immediately the scene began to shift. Tifa quickly downed an elixir and waited. Tiny particles scattered and reformed into an entirely new environment.

She stood on a dirt trail that wove through a thicket of trees and underbrush. It was sweltering hot and clammy, though the sun barely penetrated the thick forest canopy. The scent of fresh rain lingered on the air with a faint sweetness of wildflowers.

Tifa felt herself involuntarily relax. She turned into the woods in the vicinity of where her rifle had been before the setting had changed. At first she was worried that that it had disappeared in the transformation, but she found it under the foliage after a quick search. She returned to the path, her clothes slightly damp, and started walking.

A sudden attack by the local flora eliminated any illusions of tranquility. Tifa had to wonder as she was spit on, bit, and otherwise made a scratching post by the spindly little plants, how such a perversion had come to be, for it couldn't be natural. The spittle was poisonous she found out, somewhat belatedly, but was able to break the last one's neck before she became incapacitated.

She'd only been allotted one antidote, which she used, but she would have to be careful from now on. Poisons were nothing to laugh about. It rankled in her chest that, in an environment containing poisonous beasts, they would give only one antidote.

No one with any sense would bring only one antidote into a place like this. Poor planning if you asked her.

Tifa exhaled long and resigned. At least it was nice here. She preferred nature to the soulless manufactured walls of steel any day, even if it wasn't quite real. They certainly did a fine job of making it seem so.

The thought had barely finished before something came crashing through the brush from off the path to the right. Whatever it was made an enormous racket, snapping off trees and snarling a blue streak. When a giant, furry brown head lunged out from the trees, Tifa gave a yelp of surprise and staggered back, rolling to the side just in time as it bowled past her.

She pivoted sharply on her heel, facing the creature.

It looked like it might have once been a bear, but that was before someone had decided to refurbish its body with new parts. The head was bear and the claws were bear, but the rest of it resembled a patchwork stuffed animal. There were literally stitches holding its splotchy, matted fur of various colors together.

Tifa knew bears from Nibelheim, though they were rare in comparison to the number of wolves, and she was dead certain that you didn't find them in the tropics. Whoever was in charge of the simulator needed to check their facts a bit more closely, and while they were at it, quit experimenting with nature, because this was highly disturbing.

Her only consolation was that, if it had been a real bear, she wouldn't have avoided it so easily. Fighting men was one thing – fighting a bear was something else entirely. This monstrosity could hardly walk straight let alone attack with any efficiency, but if it were to land a blow…

The bear skidded to a halt a distance into the trees where it promptly turned around and charged back at her. This time Tifa was prepared and instead of dodging aside, met him head on with a well placed kick to the nose. It wasn't a killing blow, but it dazed him so that she could make a follow up strike.

She aimed for the joints, hoping to break a knee. Her first attempt failed – she hadn't used enough force and the stubby legs were thick, tougher than she'd expected. It made a swipe for her as she back-stepped and felt its claws rip into her abdomen, tearing the body armor.

Air hissed between her teeth and her hand went reflexively towards the wound. It hadn't pierced the skin – just scared the wits out of her.

The bear, seeing its target hesitate, made another lunge at her. He was aiming at her head with a massive paw and missed. Tifa spun to the side and countered with another low kick to its leg. This time she heard a satisfying snap.

A horrible sound came out of the bear's throat. It was half way between a wailing scream and a snarl. A dull red glow came to its eyes and Tifa strangled a moan in the back of her throat.

He was going into some form of a berserk mode.

Acting purely on instinct, she bull-rushed him, punching and kicking wildly. She wanted to put it down before it had a chance to attack. Her legs wobbled beneath her when she finally stumbled back, panting from exertion.

She'd wounded it without question, but it was still on its feet and with the bloodlust came an unstoppable rage.

Tifa's brain flailed for an escape, but there wasn't time to think beyond simple dodge, block and run. The bear came at her with a ferocious roar, its broken leg dragging uselessly behind it, and caught her in the side as she tried to roll away. It knocked the wind out of her and the bear bore down, its canines dripping saliva on her face. She did the only thing she could think of: she summoned fire, and hoped that her concentration held long enough to be successful.

Tiny ribbons of flame burst forth from her hands where they dug into the bear's chest. Its jaws were clamping down on her helmet when the scent of burning hair and flesh filled her nostrils. She was abruptly dropped back to the ground as the monster shrieked in pain, recoiling, and collapsed in a pile of smoking flesh and bone.

Tifa gagged as she got onto her hands and knees and slowly inched away from the smoldering carcass. She picked up her rifle, which she'd dropped during the fight, and crawled a little further before stopping to catch her breath. She'd hardly sat there a minute before the scene changed again and she was blasted with a harsh, frigid wind.

Everything was white, except for the creature writhing towards her from the icy path ahead.

If there was one thing that could possibly strike absolute horror into her very bones at that moment in time, it was that. She scrambled to her feet, slipped and careened off into a tree. She caught herself and tried not to panic, though her mind was moving in every direction.

Surely this couldn't be the second challenge? Only Sephiroth himself would dare take on a creature of this caliber. Certainly not her!

The memory from earlier that afternoon came back to her full force. Five SOLDIERs against one Malboro, and they'd barely won. She didn't stand a chance.

Tifa's heart hammered in her chest as she fumbled numbly with her provisions pack for something that resembled a bomb. Then she proceeded to throw everything she had at it; her barrage had little to no effect on it. Malboros had a magic shield from hell.

I'm going to die. There was no doubt about it. A thought flitted curiously through her mind…did they bother to rescue their recruits before they were demolished, or was this part of the natural selection that eliminated the weak? They couldn't have much of a military if that was the case – no one would survive.

The malboro was still a distance off, but coming ever closer as Tifa wracked her brain for ideas. She gripped the sniper rifle with white knuckles and wished fervently that she had joined the eco-terrorists instead. There were five rounds in the magazine and she had one more clip of five left. It was possible that ten solid hits would cause significant damage, if the subsequent shots worked to weaken its shield.

There was nothing else she could do as fighting it close up risked getting hit by its poison breath, which would be almost instant death. She didn't have the power to make a killing blow to something that substantial either.

Tifa's hands trembled as she lifted the rifle to her shoulder and tried to take aim. Sweat trickled down her forehead and into her eyes, despite the cold. She swiped at it with the back of her hand and tried again to look into the scope.

A Malboro was so large in size and so thick that determining a critical spot was almost impossible. The head made up half of its body with a gaping maw set with razor sharp teeth. The rest of it was writhing tentacles that propelled it across the ground.

She settled for above the mouth and fervently hoped there was something vital up in there. It was a big enough target that she didn't have to worry about missing.

The air shuddered with the resonating crack of the rifle and steam billowed from the barrel end. The bullet pinged off the barrier and disappeared into the snow.

"Damn it!" Tifa swore.

She chambered another shell, took aim, and fired again. That one bounced off too. Now the malboro was getting dangerously close. Tifa began back pedaling, shooting a third round as she did.

The ricochet almost hit her that time. She jumped back another step only to trip on a jutting rock and land on her backside with a grunt. The malboro somehow accelerated on its ungainly legs.

Desperation clenched in Tifa's nerveless fingers as she jacked in a fourth shell and lifted the rifle. The cross-airs were all over the place as she tried to find her target, which the closer it got the harder it was. She adjusted the scope power and took a deep breath, pushing it out long and slow.

The cross-airs fell on the mark and she pulled the trigger. Her eyes did a double take when, instead of reflecting off again, she was met by the sound of shattering glass. At first she was too stunned to move. It was fortunate that the malboro, now only fifteen feet away, was also momentarily stunned, because it could have blasted her in the time it took for her to regain her senses.

Tifa was up and scrambling a split second later with the savage plant-life hot on her heels. Now at least she had a sliver of hope, and six shells remaining. There was one already in the chamber. She loaded the remaining five as she ran.

When she'd gotten what she judged to be far enough, Tifa skidded to a halt and whirled back around. There was penetration with the shot this time and the Malboro paused, but made no sound of pain. That wasn't exactly encouraging, but it was better than watching her bullets bounce harmlessly off.

It was about that time, when Tifa turned to put some more distance between them, that the second one made its appearance. Her eyes widened impossibly and she planted her boots, which found no traction whatsoever. Then she was sailing backwards through the air, her back slamming against the ice, followed by her head.

They're trying to kill me, she decided fuzzily as she lay there, staring up at a gray sky. Somehow they've found out and now they're bumping me off in the training simulator.

Her head hurt. I don't want to die here.

She gasped, pushed herself to her feet, and dove off into the snow at a run. It came up above her knees. Her chest heaved and her lungs burned as she pushed and dragged, and pushed, plowing a trail to nowhere. There was snow coming down too, so she couldn't see but ten feet in front of her.

But she could hear their pursuit behind her.

Tifa came to a beleaguered halt and glanced behind her. Her heart gave a leap as she saw the Malboro's advancing at speeds that were illogical in this terrain. Another shell slid into the chamber and she took aim at the wounded of the two.

The bullet struck.

She quickly chambered another round and fired a follow up shot.

There was a sizeable hole in the flesh above its head now and it did appear to have slowed down some. The second one was coming up on its left. Tifa had no idea what she was going to do about that, but she thought she could at least finish the first one off if nothing else.

Two shots later it was still lumbering towards her, its head oozing a pale yellow fluid. The second malboro was closing the distance even more rapidly. Tifa went for the bolt of her rifle, knowing that it was stupid because she didn't have time to put another shell in and fire. She'd be soaking in poisonous breath as soon as the shot went off…but she was that close to putting the one down!

So she did it anyway and by god the bastard crashed into the snow in a flurry of squirming tentacles, its mouth gagging and gurgling as it expelled blood from the corners. She threw herself to the ground as a great expulsion of air from her right registered in her brain. A cloud of rotten green gas settled over her, burning against her flesh.

The instant she hit the snow the intense cold had begun to fade and a sickening sensation clenched in her stomach. Tifa rolled onto her side, shutting her eyes, and was thoroughly ill. She was vaguely aware that the floor was now a floor and that the limited light around her was artificial. There were rapid footfalls too and voices she couldn't focus on, but somehow knew.

Then she was sitting up, the dizziness fading, her injuries healed, and her eyes clear. She wanted to lunge at the first person she saw and demand what the hell had just happened. Unfortunately, the first person she saw was Sephiroth, and while she would've cheerfully lunged for his throat, she seriously doubted she would actually succeed.

Tifa looked around and met Angeal's concerned gaze. He appeared at least moderately flummoxed, and perhaps a little sorry, though it was hard telling for certain.

"Nicely done." He said.

Her eyes narrowed a fraction, though the action was lost on them. "What sort of challenge is this?" She wanted to know, struggling to keep her voice level, "Are you trying to kill me?"

Angeal actually had the good sense to appear apologetic. "We did pull you out before that could happen."

She stood as if she'd been burned and took a step back from them. Sephiroth, who was standing directly in front of her with his arms crossed, appeared totally unaffected by the whole thing. It filled her with murderous thoughts that made her somewhat uncomfortable.

Killing a person repeatedly couldn't be healthy for the psyche.

"What—" And she squared her shoulders to her nemesis, "…are you looking at?" She exasperated, because she really couldn't say what she desperately wanted to, and that's all that she could think of in its stead.

Sephiroth's brow darted upwards slightly, "I am impressed." He replied, as if it were completely obvious.

Tifa chose to disregard that and leveled Angeal with a frown, "Malboros?"

"No one is expected to defeat them." Angeal explained. "It's a test, to see how well you react in the face of what is supposed to be unbeatable odds."

She blinked, "Oh."

Angeal grinned and gave her a clap on the back that almost buckled her knees. "Very nicely done."

Sephiroth had already turned and walked back to the door. He stopped there, turning his head to one side, and said, "Next time, you will defeat it without the rifle."

Tifa wasn't sure whether it was meant as an order or some kind of bizarre premonition. She had no intentions of ever facing another malboro again – not without extensive back up anyway – let alone with just her fists. There was only so much one could do when limited to human strength.

Unless you were Sephiroth of course, but not just anyone could be that.

A sudden epiphany caused her nose to scrunch thoughtfully. She'd never seen Sephiroth fight anything without his sword. How did that work she wondered?

Tifa was disrupted from that train of thought when the door shut behind the departed General. She glanced at her superior officer, only to find him staring after his friend with a troubled look on his face.

A quiet sigh passed over Angeal's lips as he turned and forced a smile for her. "Welcome to 2nd class."

For several long and deafeningly loud seconds of silence, Tifa didn't say anything at all. It was incomprehensible. She tried to wipe the stunned expression from her face, but the severity of that simple phrase sank in too deeply for her to salvage any dignity.

The idea of making 2nd class had never crossed her mind because she was competing with men, not to mention she'd basically cheated. All that accomplished was drawing more unwanted attention anyway, which she desperately wanted to avoid. Another words, this was not supposed to happen.

"Oh."

The sound of Tifa's deadpanned proclamation reverberated off the walls of the training simulator for what felt like an eternity. Then the sound settled and left silence in its wake.

Angeal's lips parted, his brow wrinkling in consternation at her rather tepid response, but whatever he had thought to say never came out. Eventually he cleared his throat and said, "Well, uh, your log will automatically be updated with a new training schedule and you'll find a new uniform in your locker."

Tifa nodded blearily. "Ok."

Right then it felt like the world had been moving 100 miles an hour, only to jerk to a complete stop and launch her whirling off into space. Somehow she'd gotten to be in 2nd class SOLDIER in only a day of training. It wasn't supposed to happen that fast – she was supposed to have time.

"Eric?" A voice beckoned.

She almost didn't respond, so unused to the name as she was, but an alarm bell rang somewhere in her mind and she snapped to. "Yes?"

Angeal was studying her closely, as if he saw something that didn't quite fit. It was the sort of look that made her want to shrink into a dark corner, but she settled for hiding behind her collar. "Do you have family? In Nibelheim?"

Tifa stiffened, the words falling out of her mouth automatically, "No."

I don't have anything anywhere…

For a moment Tifa thought he would pursue the subject further, but he seemed to reconsider. He reached up to massage the back of his neck. "I suppose you'll have to settle for celebrating in the city of Midgar then." He said, "You can take tomorrow off."

"Thank you." Tifa answered and, taking that as a dismissal, left the room.

She hastened into the hall and made straight for the elevators. Now that it was over, all her nerves unraveled at once and she was shaking from head to toe. The only thing on her mind was a shower and her bunk, dismal though it was.

That night Tifa was regaled to by the General himself of the restorative properties that the 6 o'clock mystery breakfast had on hair (he was wearing some himself) and how Chaka's woman map was utterly useless in Midgar because all the landmarks were in the wrong place. He proceeded to inform her –with a straight face – that she should wear the bowl of his breakfast on her head so that no one would suspect that she was a woman.

Then she woke up.

Tifa was beginning to wonder about the food in this place.

It was 9 a.m. when she finally dragged herself out of bed. Getting up was an agonizing process of shuffle, wince, grab brush, shuffle, groan, find socks. She hobbled stiffly about the room for a while, brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face, and eventually sat back down on her bunk to examine the three lacerations in her body armor acquired from the night before.

After closer inspection she also found two bullets imbedded in the shell. She sighed, allowing the article of clothing to fall limply in her lap, and ran her hands through her hair. It was not going to be easy to get it repaired.

Suddenly it all felt so daunting. She hadn't the foggiest idea what she should do.

Tifa released a gush of air, stirring a loose bang that flitted down the side of her face. It was too late to turn back now. So she pulled on her suit and uniform, and prepared to face another day in her new life of subterfuge.

The first thing she did that morning was to check her locker and retrieve her things. Her new uniform looked almost exactly like the old one. It was of a darker shade of blue and the material was softer – at least it might not chafe so much. The new helmet was silver with blue trim. There was her phone too, which she checked out of curiosity.

Her eyes widened fraction. Messages were flooding her inbox, most of them news blurbs or company announcements. She hadn't realized that she would be so integrated into the system, but then their technology never ceased to amaze her.

There was one, however, that caught her attention. It was an alert of some kind and it was blinking. She bit her lip and scrolled down to select it.

Message received: yesterday, 2:36 p.m. from Professor Lowell

Someone's been swiping materia from the synthesis room after hours. What the hell? I mean, seriously, what the hell? It's not free, goddamn it! I'm giving the culprit two days to fess up before I hunt them down and lock them in one of Hojo's test tubes.

Her brow darted upwards. And she had always thought professors to be quiet and reserved. Apparently not…

Tifa had a vague recollection of having passed their lab in her travels, but hadn't been inside it. Regardless, it didn't involve her. She closed the phone and reached back into the locker for the tall, slender black case.

The case contained a blued stainless steel sniper rifle with a synthetic black stock. Her lips widened in a smile. That hadn't been on the list.

She changed quickly into her new clothes and slipped out before anyone was the wiser. No sooner had she begun ascending the stairs to take a jaunt around the building did the sound of footsteps alert her to someone descending from above. Feeling a momentary flight of panic, Tifa stood dumbly in place as a shadow emerged from around the corner and took shape.

Sephiroth took several steps before he noticed her, at which point he stopped. He might not have done so had she not been noticeably rooted in the middle of the stairs, staring up at him. They exchanged a long, perplexing look. His eyes narrowed, her lips thinned in a rigid line. He raised an eyebrow, she groaned in exasperation.

They then resumed their respective courses as if nothing had happened.

Something had definitely happened, but Tifa couldn't quite put a finger on what.

Thereon the day passed by uneventfully. No impromptu interrogations from Angeal, in fact she never saw him at all – the same for Chaka. No more surprise meetings with Sephiroth in deserted hallways. She perused several of the floors in the building, most of which held nothing of interest, and listened in on a conversation or two, but gleaned nothing of real value.

All in all it was not the most productive day.

And it was boring. Mind-numbingly boring.

She stretched out on her bunk and stared up at the ceiling. It was already 10 p.m., but she didn't feel like sleeping. Restlessness soon drew her from the confines of her room.

There was an eerie quietness in the halls during the late hours. She was inclined to step quietly so as not to draw attention to herself as every little scuff of her boots seemed to resonate in her ears like a gong. It was not curfew yet, so why she should worry she didn't know.

But Tifa always worried because that was the nature of her situation; walking on eggshells. Or maybe walking the high wire above a pit full of rabid man-eating squirrels was a more accurate analogy. It was certainly more vivid.

She stopped by the lockers on her way out to pick up her rifle, which she'd left there for safe keeping. Then she took the elevator up to the 65th floor. The lights were dim when she emerged into the lounge. No one was about and even the auto-bot cleaners had been shut down. It was almost…peaceful.

Tifa lingered around for a minute or two before heading on into the Training Room. At first she didn't notice anything, but when she went to the control panel to punch in the settings, her eyes drifted invariably to the observation window. She stopped abruptly.

Someone was already in there.

Author's Note: Hmmm, yes, we have a cliff hanger. I apologize for the limited interactions between characters in this chapter, but I thought it was necessary to describe the test. The next chapter is going to be a real doozy.

Well anyway, I want it to be known that I'm not arbitrarily giving Tifa mad sniper skillz - this will become relevant later in the story. Regardless, it wouldn't be practical for military trainees not to be educated in the use of firearms so she would have acquired some knowledge in getting this far anyway. Everyone has their limitations physically, that includes Sephiroth.

Feedback is most helpful in getting my butt in gear to write.

Thanks for reading and happy holidays!