Chapter 1

Midgar its three things to you its home heaven or hell. Depending where your station at. Midgar was split into two classes, Ever rarely was it possible to make middle class.

The upper plates revealed the clear blue skies. With enormously large and high buildings. Beautiful streets, and blooming businesses and safe atmospheres. With luxuries items, fine linens, at any demand and fine sulks were sold on the market.

However the slums in the other hand was the complete opposite. For those who lived here it was nothing but short of a nightmare. Which in turned, made most people resent those in the upper plate. They deal with a lot of problems of there own.

The streets were filled with dangers. Not just from wild animals that roamed. But from the piles of rotting pipes and metals, wrecking with the smells of decay. Being in the slums was hard work. Most were plagued, with lower incomes and professions. With sickness, illness and death. However if you lived in the slums or the upper plates.

The city of Midgar was famous for it gangs fights and monsters. There could be danger around any corner. Sometimes people had to make their homes out of such old material. That the only option was to make do and use whatever they could find. Which in turn made the city looked even more dangerous and grimy.

There was one common ground each held. Gangs… were laws and rules of any kind didn't apply to them. There wasn't such thing as trustworthy member of soldier, they AVALANCHE, or Shinra. From according to records dealing with the disputes. The two gangs been going at it for many generations now.

Yeah that's was right, you were ether a proud member of soldier, or a strong supporter of AVALANCHE. You were ether extremely rich or poor. Soldier was more on the rich side, and Avalanche coming from the poor side of town. Avalanche being the slums of Midgar, and soldier the top plates.

The city of lights glowed, all day all night. Today was no different. As beautiful as the lights scattered around her lighting up the beams in her eyes. The green lights signified the end of an old life. Rather than the start of a new one.

As beautiful as the skyscrapers, buildings and hotels were. There was no sign of plant life anywhere. Except with a flower peddler that went by the name of Aerith Gainsborough. In all of Midgar she was the only one with flowers for sale. Collecting her earnings for the day.

she made her way down the streets collecting and buying her stuff for her next birthday celebration. Not even an hour when by when trouble broke out on the streets. Doing her best to stay out of harms way. She sighed and decided to go around. The whole ordeal.

Aerith was a pretty girl, she had green emerald eyes. A pink dress, was spaghetti strapped top. She wore a red vest with straps coming to a buckles around her arm. Her hair was chestnut brown, she wore boots. And carried a small extendable staff.

Aerith finally made it home in one piece. Then walked over to toward the noise radiating from the other room. There stood her mother, listening to the news. Another fight has broken out in Midgar. We are advising that you stay indoors. We repeat stay indoors. Avalanche and soldier are at it again." Said the newscast reporter.

Aerith Gainsborough reached for the remote and turned off the television. While her mom left the room to finish up cooking meal and doing the dishes. With that Aerith made her way upstairs to her bedroom. To get a new change of clothes.

Today Shinra was investigating a series of disturbances. That had occurred as of late, but had happened in the slums. Tseng the leader of a group know as the Turks was in charge.

Tseng appearance was slightly different then most Turks. Being the fact he was of Watuiness heritage. His skin was a lighter brown then mostly found uncommon with his peers. His hair was black and normally pulled up in a pony tail.

It neatly cut off a little past his shoulders. His eyes were almost a cross of a darker brown to golden eye color. He was known to take great pride in the way he dressed. Nothing short of perfection, his shoes being polished and his suit well kept. He was known to look presentable almost all the time.

To his bewilderment, he just couldn't understand it. None of it made sense, to him. What had caused the recent feuding? Wasn't life hard enough already down here in the slums? Tseng squatted down to examine the cuts of the broken machinery.

Soon his eyes, followed it upwards, to see a fellow turk arrive on scene. The crimson weasel was his nickname. Tseng knew him by another name. With a whin the words just came out.

"What is it now Reno?" Stopping in his tracks, the young rookie Turk chuckled. "Hey Tsengy, was wondering what Ya doing down here?" Speaking in a way that drove Tseng mad. Then again he got a kick out of doing that.

Reno had deep unique Green-blue eyes. His hair was a flame red, unkempt and pulled into a ponytail. That ran down his back, midway. His dress tended to get on Tseng nerves often because it wasn't actually that neat. To be honest it was a little more on the sloppy side. He wore no tie, and his shirt Laces unbutton halfway down his shirt.

His shirt wasn't tacked in, and his black pants sagged loose. Black boots that was sometimes cover in mud. A rod, which he liked to tapped on his shoulder from time to time. That was the way, he liked it. Even when it bugged Tseng to no end.

"If your here to bug me, can you do me a favor and be quiet?" Tseng asked the rookie turk. Reno then just turned to him and let out a other chuckle. Tseng shot him a dirty look. To warn him to watch himself.

Reno soon shot his arms up with his hands open. As if defeated, "alright Tsengy I will behave," Reno seemed to Jester, as he watched the senior turk turn back around to farther look at the machine once more.

The machine did it job but at the cost of more life's. Cleaning up the mess was no different, to say it was a disaster was an understatement.

Cleaning the blood off the walls, torn body parts. They sure made a mess of things. With that said the scorpion like weapon machinery. Was destroyed little sparks, coming from the legs. Of the broken Machine. Tseng made his way down the street down and up the street to assess the damage done.

It was going to be another long night for the Turks. The night was still young and just beginning. Tseng signed and scribbled on a piece of paper.. cause of death…