I started awake and bolted up to a sitting position, whipping my head around this way and that, still in the clutches of an oppressive dream I couldn't recall in detail. Only once the near-nightmare faded, was I able to recognize the bed as the one I had slept in these past few nights. I pushed the hair out of my face, wiping the cold sweat off my forehead. I felt so disoriented, in no small part because I couldn't remember getting into bed at all.

A piece of paper on the bedside table caught my eye. The terrible handwriting was a wee bit easier to decipher this time.

yo Fitz
dragged your sleeping ass to bed
didn't do anything weird, honest

To think that a note phrased like this could make me feel better. With a crooked smile, I pondered how much the redhead's definition of weird might differ from mine. At least I was still wearing clothes.

Underneath the text was a drawing of a man with an uncanny resemblance to Rude, being chased by a menacing chocobo. The smile widened, then slowly dissipated. I glanced over at the seating area. The takeout boxes were gone, but the folders remained. One of them lay precariously near the edge of the table, untouched since I had left it there. That one hadn't been "fun reading", as Reno had warned.

To my surprise, my own file hadn't been so difficult to read. The fact that I was referred to as "specimen" or with the impersonal code they had assigned to me made it easier to dissociate myself from the report, I supposed. The data had also confirmed my vehement hopes that I had mostly been subjected to the gathering of tissue samples and various biometric readings to establish a baseline for future work, rather than actual experimentation. There was some relief in that, as long as I didn't think too hard about the proposed courses of action, such as the speculation on my fertility.

In the end, it was a file detailing the experiments performed on a young man that had proven too much for me. Maybe it was the pictures, which were absent from mine. Maybe it was the fact that unlike me, this man had actually been experimented on – against his will, if my experience was anything to go by. By the time I had slammed the folder shut and thrown it onto the table, my chest had already constricted to point of being painful.

While I had paced back and forth, struggling with flashbacks and a revulsion so deep that it threatened to manifest in a physical way, Reno had distracted me with a story about a hilariously ill-fated mission to a chocobo farm, of all places. Thinking back now, it seemed so horribly inappropriate and out of place, but at the time it had only been a matter of minutes before he had lured a giggle out of me. After a few more of those, I had calmed down enough to sit down again.

I studied the drawing on his note and smiled as some of the details returned to me. The tale was no doubt more fiction than fact, but it had served its intended purpose. I must have fallen asleep some time before its end, however. I had been so drained.

Note in hand, I approached the files with hesitant steps, at a loss for how to proceed now. I worked with lab-grown cells and tissues or computational models of biological systems and organisms. I had never had to deal with experiments on animals, much less people. It was just not done. It wasn't right. I couldn't use data like this, could I?

Upon a closer look, it dawned on me that the folders were not as I had left them. They were still in two piles, but now the smaller one had my own on top. The first one in the other pile I recognized as a project comparing genomes with regard to Mako compatibility. The one underneath was a study on the effects of Mako on the growth and division rates of different cell lines. A quick check showed that all seven folders were on projects using cells, genetic material and occasionally animals. The small stack contained the human subjects.

Reno.

I dropped back against the sofa and stared at the ceiling, trying to sort out my conflicted thoughts. I got the Turk's hint, but I wasn't sure it was good enough. The non-human experiments were still performed by the same unethical researchers. My lips thinned into a humorless mockery of a smile as I eyed the stack topped by my own file. Careful what you wish for, Tess. I wasn't sure how I could not have expected this when I requested biological Mako research data, but I hadn't. It had never even crossed my mind. Too naive, as always.

The wish had already been made and granted, however. Reeve expected me to use it to provide answers. If I didn't, would he hold it against me? Would he deny my request for freedom? What if the Mako reactor situation was as dire as Reeve feared and informed decisions and actions were necessary? Shouldn't I at the very least evaluate what I had learned to decide if it could be used?

Yes... Yes, I should, following Reno's suggestion to leave the most abhorrent projects untouched. Was it the right decision? I didn't know, but it was a logical step to take, and that was better than nothing. So I told myself, at least.

I flipped over Reno's note and grabbed the pen lying on the table. In the top left corner of the sheet, I wrote "Mako" and drew a circle around it. On the right side, I listed the words "strength", "speed" and "senses", then connected them to the first one with lines. After a few moments' deliberation, I added "poisoning" and "mutation" to the list.

Mako was often mentioned together with something called Jenova. The word tugged at the edges of hazy memories, but I couldn't place it. Perhaps it was something I had heard mentioned during my stay at the labs. I was equally unsure of Jenova's effects and purpose. The two relevant experiments in the files were for both Mako and Jenova used together, so I could only make some educated guesses.

I jotted down "Jenova" underneath my previous notes and circled it, followed by the connections "trigger?" and "catalyst?". Reeve may have asked me to look into the effects of Mako only, but understanding how the two substances worked together might just help with that.

I stared at the word, tapping the pen against my bottom lip. What was this Jenova? Its effects appeared to be due to changes on the genetic level, which struck me as viral, but the reports spoke of Jenova cells, not viruses. Then again, could I be sure it wasn't just a difference in the definition of the word between worlds? While much was remarkably – incredibly – similar, I had already noticed a few oddities, such as the names of genes following some other nomenclature than the one I knew.

In any case, it was safe to assume that Jenova cells were biological units rather than a substance like Mako. I added the words "cells - organism" to Jenova's list.

One of the reports described a chocobo chick experiment where those given Mako alone were completely outclassed in every measured way by the ones that received a Mako-Jenova combination. The pure Mako chicks nonetheless outperformed their unmodified siblings. Maybe Mako inhibited normal biological safety measures, unleashing the full potential that was already present in muscle cells, like a never-ending adrenaline surge. That could explain the enhanced speed and strength.

Reflexes and reaction speed, however, were limited by the signaling capacity of the nervous system. What if this Jenova somehow improved that capacity? That could explain how such abnormally high performance was possible. The strain on the physical body would be far beyond what it could normally handle, though. There had to be some kind of a hardening of tissues, too, or maybe just the ability to heal injuries at a much faster rate.

I scribbled out the word "senses" and rewrote it in the Jenova list, then added "healing/regeneration?". After some more rumination, I drew a double-headed arrow between Mako and Jenova, then wrote "synergy?" beside it.

So many question marks. It was like trying to complete a jigsaw, only most of the pieces were missing and I didn't even know what the end result was supposed to look like. A smirk found its way onto my lips. In that sense, it wasn't very different from a normal day at work – if one overlooked the fact that I was trying to come up with a theoretically sound basis for super powers.

Back home I'd had the option to go searching for more pieces as needed, however. Here, I was stuck with what had been provided, and it wasn't much. I set down the pen with a sigh and began rereading the files in the taller stack to double-check the facts, trying to ignore the slight tremble in my hands.

Had I been completely honest with myself, I might have admitted that it wasn't fear for what I might find in the reports that was the cause this time. No, it was what I might find within myself that made me nervous. My curiosity had been aroused, and with it came the gnawing concern that I was taking the first steps down a very slippery slope.

Late in the afternoon, I returned from a bathroom break to find Reno standing by the coffee table, my notes in hand. As I approached, he glanced up from the sheet that had filled up with my handwriting during the day's work.

"You've been busy, Doc."

"I guess I have," I agreed with a faint smile, although 'engrossed' would have been a better word for it. I might even have forgotten to eat and take a shower, had Rude not roused me from my research by delivering breakfast. "I don't suppose you have anything to add?"

One corner of his mouth tugged upward and he shrugged, putting the paper back on top of the stack of files.

"Nah, dunno nothin' about science."

I slowed down, giving him a quizzical look. There was something off about his tone, reflected in his posture and the wan face. It was as if the man had been deflated.

"Are you okay?"

The question earned me another half-smile.

"You keep askin' me that. Guess I look like shit, huh?"

"I'm afraid you do, yes."

"Gee, thanks. Kick a dude while he's down, why dontcha?" he chuckled. "Nothin' you need to worry 'bout, tho'. Didn't get much sleep last night, is all." The statement was punctuated with a yawn, followed by a roll of his shoulders. "So, feel like a break? Reeve asked to see ya."

"Sure," I replied, allowing him the less than subtle change of topic. "I assume Scarlet is elsewhere?"

"Yup, thank fuck. Still, gotta be careful." The redhead grinned and raised his other hand, shaking out a blonde mess of hair that had been concealed by his body. "Ever worn a wig before?"

I felt ridiculous. The dark-rimmed, fake glasses pinched my nose and the long blonde hair felt too hot. It tickled my neck, too, which was nothing short of infuriating. I decided my first priority as a free woman would be to find a hairdresser and restore my own overlong curls to the beloved pixie cut. I could only hope that would happen before they grew as long as my silly wig.

Once we were on our way to the workshop, though, the decrease in the number of employees milling in the corridors was marked enough to distract me from the woes of my disguise.

"People are takin' time off," Reno explained when I commented on it. "Y'know, spendin' time with family, doin' the stuff they always wanted to do but never got 'round to, that sorta thing."

"Because of Meteor," I guessed, pushing my glasses higher in the hopes of finding them a less uncomfortable position on my nose. "Any news on that?"

"I ain't gonna lie to ya," he sighed. "It don't look good. Unless we do somethin' 'bout Meteor, we can pretty much kiss our asses goodbye."

Well, then. Guess I didn't need to worry about my hair growing too long after all.

"What about the Weapons? What will they do?"

"No one really knows much about 'em. Apparently they're supposed to defend the Planet from threats, but right now they can't get at him, so they're just... I dunno, loiterin' or somethin'."

I sent him an inquisitive glance. "'Him'? Not Avalanche?"

Reno laughed and shook his head, a bit sheepish.

"Shit, I must be real worn out. Usually I'm better at watchin' my damn mouth. Best if you don't ask too much about that, yo."

He looked it, too. I allowed the poor man a change of subject once more.

"So, the Weapons are the planet's guardians, huh?" I mused. "I wonder if your world has anything it can use against Meteor, too."

"Heh, maybe the Planet's just keepin' that shit hidden. Y'know, hopin' to finally to get rid of us pesky humans."

The joking tone was there, barely, but the weakness of it caught me off guard. Even the smile was anemic. My stomach fluttered with unease and I had to stifle an irrational impulse to slap him back into his usual self.

Reeve was in a similar state. The drawn face with dark shadows under his eyes spoke of little sleep and too much consternation. Nonetheless, the smile that greeted me was warm and the eyes lit up with amusement as he took in my disguise. Mercifully, the executive kept any comments to himself.

"Good to see you, Tess," the man said as he pushed himself out of a chair. "I trust you've been staying out of trouble lately?"

"I haven't punched anyone else, though Reno does push his luck at times," I joked, although I felt a mild heat of embarrassment on my cheeks.

"Hey, be nice, blondie," the redhead admonished with a playful poke in the arm. "I've been a goddamn saint, yo."

"I bet," Reeve responded, although I wasn't sure to which of us it was directed. "Well, there's little for us to do at the moment besides keeping an eye on the building, so I thought we could make ourselves useful instead of twiddling our thumbs."

"Sounds good to me," I smiled. "Oh, thanks for the reading material, by the way."

"Ah yes, the treatises. Have you discovered anything interesting?"

"Still trying to wrap my head around it all, to be honest," I confessed, shaking my head. "Bugenhagen makes it sound like the planet is alive, in a sense. It's... mind-boggling."

"His theories are intriguing."

Recalling my earlier talk with Reno, an unexpected idea began to take shape in my mind and I took a few moments to toy with it, speaking out loud as I did so.

"You know... Assuming it's true and Gaia can be thought of as an enormous organism, then the Weapons are sort of part of its immune system. And if so... Maybe it would be possible to give the system a boost. Help the Weapons do what they're supposed to."

"Help them?" Reno repeated, making no effort to hide the incredulity. "How the fuck are we s'posed to help things like that?"

"I don't know, I'm just playing with an idea," I replied with a small shrug. "You said they were unable to complete their task and are just 'loitering'. They haven't attacked anyone, right? Has anyone attacked them?"

The two men exchanged a glance before the Turk answered my question.

"Nah. Heidegger and Scarlet have been busy comin' up with ways to blow 'em sky-high, but haven't tried anythin' yet."

I hummed, remembering the early video clips and pictures I had seen on TV during news reports on the building-sized creatures. Later newscasts had focused on Meteor, perhaps due to the Weapons' inactivity.

"I'd recommend you keep it that way. I don't think we want to give these things a reason to see humans as a threat."

"Thanks for that happy thought, Doc," Reno grumbled. "Does this immune system theory of yours say what we should do instead?"

"It's hardly a theory. I wouldn't even call it a hypothesis. Just conjecture at this point, really."

"Jeez, whatever," he groaned, dragging a hand over his face. "Just answer the damn question."

"I did, in a way," I countered. "I'm just thinking out loud here. I don't have all the answers."

"'Course you don't. Awesome."

I sent him an irritated look, but it was only a half-hearted reproach. Testy sarcasm was an improvement over his earlier resignation.

Another idea occurred to me. Recalling the news reports had also reminded me of AVALANCHE. Reno's slip about "him" made me suspect the terrorist group wasn't behind Meteor at all. In fact, it had seemed a bit odd that they would do something so harmful, considering their reputation as a pro-Planet organization.

"If you want answers, maybe you should talk to those eco warriors instead of using them as scapegoats."

Neither man looked surprised by my choice of words. My hunch must have been true.

"Huh? Why?" the Turk questioned, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"They've been fighting for the planet for a while now, haven't they? They might know something we don't."

"You know, that's exactly what I've been saying," Reeve interjected, sending Reno a pointed look that was impossible to miss. Its target was not pleased.

"This again? You just don't give up, do ya?"

"You heard Tess just now. It may be a long shot, but if there's a chance they could end this..."

Reno rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in defeat.

"Oh fine, I'll call Rude."

I watched in utter bewilderment as the sour-faced redhead stomped away, fishing around an inner jacket pocket.

"What was that about?" I asked the other man.

"Just differing opinions on how to handle a situation down in Junon," Reeve replied breezily with a self-satisfied smile on his face. "Thanks for the help."

"Uh... You're welcome?"

"It's on tomorrow," Reno reported, slipping his phone back into a pocket as he returned, then pointed at Reeve. "Just make sure your damn cat's ready to pounce, yo."

"I'll do my part, don't worry," Reeve assured him.

I gave up on trying to understand what the two were talking about. For all I knew it was some secret spy code, anyway.

"All right. Now can we drop this already?" the Turk requested, rubbing his weary eyes. "I'd like just a couple of hours with no worries 'bout the end of the world, 'kay?"

"Fair enough," Reeve agreed.

A small crease formed between my eyebrows as I watched the dark-haired man pick up the blazer that had been draped over the back of a chair and shrug it on. He usually left it off while in the workshop.

"What's on the menu today?" I wondered.

"Well, I thought we could try something a little different. I've hooked up the power surge system I mentioned a while back and would like to run a few tests on it."

"Overloading the shields, you mean?"

Reeve had been keen on pushing the capabilities of the suit's shields. I had accepted the proposed changes to their design, although with some reluctance, as the new system was more offensive than defensive in nature. I hadn't been surprised when Reeve admitted he had gotten the idea from a throwaway comment made by the redheaded Turk.

"That sounds cool," Reno said. "If by 'tests' you mean blowin' shit up."

"Yes, that's right," Reeve answered my question, then turned to the redhead, "and, technically, yes."

"Awesome," the Turk said, grinning. "I'm game, yo."

I eyed the executive with some apprehension, wondering how powerful the electrical discharge would be.

"What does 'technically blowing shit up' actually mean?" I asked.

"The SOLDIER floor is more or less empty at the moment," Reeve began his explanation, "so I reserved one of the sparring rooms for testing purposes."

Reno's eyebrows shot up and now it was his turn to give the older man a dubious look.

"The SOLDIER floor? Didn't expect that."

"It's not ideal," Reeve lamented, "but I don't want to risk drawing unwanted attention by using one of the Weapons Development testing chambers."

"Got a point there," the redhead conceded, rubbing his chin. "Scarlet may have fucked off to Junon, but the rest of her department hasn't."

"Excuse me?" I asked pointedly, letting my gaze flicker back and forth between the men. "Still not clear on the blowing stuff up part."

"Sorry, Tess," the executive said with a chuckle. "Don't worry, it's not as dramatic as it sounds. We'll see what the surge does to some leftover crates and boxes, that's all."

"Aw, that's it?" Reno whined. "Talk 'bout false advertising."

The Turk apparently belonged to the group of people who recharged their mental batteries in the company of others. His oddly subdued behavior had already begun to fade and he was reverting to his playful self. I was relieved. There was something disturbing about a hushed, toned-down Reno.

Reeve had already packed the protective suit into an inconspicuous crate that was waiting on a cart by the door. The three of us made our way to the so-called SOLDIER floor with our cargo and without incident. In fact, we hardly saw anyone once we left the elevator; the floor was indeed as deserted as the executive had claimed.

A shame, really. After reading about the lurid adventures of the SOLDIER in the book Reno had given me, I was curious about seeing one of these nigh-mythical beings in person.

Soon I found myself suited up and standing in the middle of a spacious room with reinforced walls and floor, empty save for the small stacks of surplus packing materials surrounding me. It was a very modest setup, which I was grateful for. The unremarkable view soothed my jittery nerves.

"All right, we're good to go. Whenever you're ready."

Reeve's voice, tinged with a metallic note through the suit's speakers, was transmitted from the control room. I glanced over at its window, but could only see my red and black suit in the mirrored glass; my own face obscured by the helmet's golden, reflective surface. The Shinra company seemed keen on watching without being seen. It was rather creepy.

Uncertain of what to expect once I gave the command, I took a deep breath and braced myself.

"Sparky, execute power surge."

Nothing happened. I stood still for a while, ears pricked up for any audible sign from Sparky, then looked up at the mirrored window and raised my arms in a display of puzzlement.

Instead of hearing Reeve's voice as I had expected, the Turk's lazy drawl came through the speakers.

"Oh, hey, Reeve got the command wrong. It's 'blast off', yo."

In the background I could hear the executive's incredulous "what?!", screeched an octave higher than usual. Somehow, that didn't strike me as a good sign.

"Uh, I kinda sorta went and changed it." It sounded like the redhead was explaining himself to Reeve in front of the microphone, rather than talking directly to me. "C'mon, Reeve, who the hell wants to say 'execute power surge' when they're about to do somethin' cool?"

I could hear the irate reply, although I couldn't make out the words.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Yo Fitz, just go ahead and try it. Don't worry, I didn't change anythin' else. Not even Sparky's dumb name."

"Reeve?" I called hesitantly.

The sounds of a heated, muffled conversation drifted in over the radio, but Reno must have moved away from the microphone, because now I couldn't understand what either of them was saying. After a few minutes, the older man came back on the line.

"It doesn't sound like he did any damage. Reno may act like an idiot, but he wouldn't have pulled something like this unless he was sure he knew what he was doing." In the background, I could hear Reno's protests about the 'idiot' part. Reeve ignored them. "In the mean time... Just give his command a try."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "You do realize that this is a man who, by his own admission, is turned on by explosions?"

A small scuffle, followed by Reno's indignant voice.

"C'mon Doc, gimme a break. I joked about it once!"

A smile appeared on my face, but I kept my voice neutral.

"Twice, as I recall."

"He's mentioned to it me too, once or twice," Reeve supplied helpfully.

Silence, for several seconds.

"Yeah, okay, fine! So I happen to like explosions. That don't mean I wanna see ya go up in one!"

A number of bad snuff jokes came to mind, but I resisted the urge to speak any of them out loud.

"Why Reno, at this rate you're going to make me think you care."

"Just shut up and do the thing already," he groaned.

Despite the jokes and reassurances by both men, I was rather apprehensive about the idea of Reno fiddling with my suit's systems. My fists clenched and opened repeatedly as I looked over the targets around me one last time. In a few seconds, I might just end up sharing their fate of being blasted to smithereens.

To top it off, I would have to use the redhead's choice of phrase. Fantastic. What a way to go.

"Sparky," I said, trying not to think about the more unfortunate ways this farce could end. "...Blast off."

The suit hummed, a sound which rapidly grew in volume, and I stared at my arms in awe as bursts of blue electricity crackled over the suit's surface. Then, with a loud clap not unlike thunder, the energy was released.

My ears were ringing and my eyes had squeezed shut at the blinding flash. Gingerly, I opened them, then froze, staring at the empty space around me. The cardboard boxes stacked around me were flattened against the walls, while the crates were little more than splinters below them.

"Holy shit," I breathed.

"Warning. Power level critical. System powering down in–"

With that half a warning, the hazard suit went dead.

I lurched under the sudden weight hanging off of my shoulders, but managed to stay upright. With effort, I was able to raise my hands, but by the time I had unlocked the helmet, the doors burst open and my observers hurried in to help me.

"That was pretty cool, eh?" the Turk said once he had lifted the helmet off my head, grinning wide.

Unable to find words for a better comment than his, I laughed with both relief and disbelief, nodding in agreement. Now that the helmet was off, I noticed the sharp smell of electricity and scorched wood in the air.

"Sorry about the battery drain," Reeve apologized, helping the gloves off. "I must have made a miscalculation, or a mistake in the programming. I'll fix it before the next tests."

With empty batteries, there was nothing else to do in the testing chamber. Reeve decided to hunt down the problem on his own and carted Sparky to the workshop while Reno accompanied me back to the Turk offices. On the way, we stopped by the balcony for one of his smoking breaks.

Leaning against the railing, my eyes wandered upward instead of down to the streets below. The thin layer of clouds covering Midgar that afternoon could not hide the red blemish that heralded Meteor's arrival. It was much larger in real life than it looked on TV. I removed the glasses to examine it without any obstacles.

"How long before it's supposed to hit?" I asked Reno as he lit up a cigarette.

He eyed the spot and took a long drag before answering.

"Depends on who you ask. Days. Weeks. Guess no one knows for sure."

Weeks at most, and then we would all be as good as dead. While I wasn't very familiar with the ecosystems of this world, it was nonetheless clear to me that an impact with something of that size would have disastrous consequences for the whole planet. It seemed I had traded one doomed world for another.

Perhaps I should have felt sad or afraid, but there was only a resigned emptiness that came with the knowledge that there was nothing I could do. I couldn't even fully comprehend a magical threat like this.

"Apparently the plan is to blow the fucker to pieces," the Turk commented, coming up beside me. "If they actually manage to pull it off, it oughta be one helluva show, yo."

That was... mundane. I would have expected flashy displays of some kind of anti-Meteor magic.

"How do they plan to do that?"

"I think they're still workin' on that part," he said with a wry smirk.

"Oh, well, nothing to worry about then. Glad to hear we're in good hands."

His lopsided smile widened at my sarcastic remark, but a melancholy note crept into his eyes and voice when he spoke.

"Guess you wish you were back on your own world now, eh, Fitz?"

I couldn't tell whether the sudden, poignant jab in my chest was due to his words or the way he said them.

"Oh, I don't know," I mused, my expression mirroring his. "Going out with a bang has a certain appeal."

Reno chuckled softly.

"You're my kinda girl, babe."

The declaration was facetious, but a warmer smile flashed across his face when our eyes locked for a moment. I returned it and, for just a second, I wished we had met under different circumstances.

A/N:

If you want to read the ill-fated chocobo story Reno told Tess, it's "No Harm, No Fowl". The mention in this story was meant as a throwaway remark, but the idea kept popping back into my head, again and again, until I had to do something about it.

The final lull before the storm. Enjoy it while it lasts, boys and girls.