Woo, I'm quarantined! *falls flat on her face*

The last week has been... chaotic, to say the least, and certainly not for me alone. Whenever I end up finishing this story I'm sure I'm going to look back on this particular chapter in history and just facepalm forever. I should clarify, so far as I am aware, I have not yet been infected. However, I am taking as few chances as possible. I tend to have a fairly robust immune system, but I do not want to be the Typhoid Mary that kills my very nice elderly neighbor who occasionally bakes cookies and the like for me, or even some random passer-by on the street. A recent post I've seen making the rounds sums it up; don't change your behavior to avoid infection. Assume you're already infected, and change your behavior to avoid spreading the illness. Everyone, please stay safe, take the time and rest you need, and wash your damn hands. :)

silentstrixe: The answer to that is about two chapters out. Bear with me. I've got plans regarding the Enemy Skill materia.
Crescent Pulsar: This is a good observation. Ranma probably would have survived the fall. But probably not the hailstorm of bullets that followed when he got up. And even assuming the regular army wasn't down there, there would be the secondary consideration of taking a chance at a single attack in midair from the 61st floor at a flying tank, and hit or miss, falling to the ground and being out of the fight until he climbed back up.
Shsdowstorm_Vash: Ranma's been seeing a lot of heavy events in the last few days. He still does not have the... shall we say, depth and breadth of an emotional wreckage that Ryoga carries around on a regular basis, but considering the potential of the Shishi Hokodan as both a powerful martial arts technique and as an effective therapeutic release valve, it's a good way for Ranma to, as he phrased it, 'get something off her chest.'

From this point, updates will be, at the most frequent, biweekly, until I've either built up a better backlog of edited chapters, or am satisfied that I can get back to a weekly pattern. With what's going on in the world right now, I'm not exactly looking to commit to anything major at the moment. Either way, I hope you continue to tune in. Expect the next chapter April 5th, and enjoy!

Chapter Twenty Four

A Light At The End Of The Road

[ ν ] - εγλ 0007, December 13

Ranma watched as the troopers advanced rapidly, catching up in ones and twos to the over-laden pickup. She watched as Cloud unshouldered his massive blade, swinging in a wild arc, smashing a trooper off his bike and into the pavement. Cloud's bike continued to roll straight and true, as if he hadn't just swung what looked to be a half-ton slab of metal around in a half-circle. "How does he even do that?" she wondered aloud as she fueled a Blizzard spell and sent it careening past Cloud to lock the front wheel of a pursuer's vehicle, causing it to suddenly flip. "I don't even know if Ryoga could do somethin' like that," she mused in wonder.

"That's SOLDIER for ya," Barret commented, switching his gun-arm to semi-auto and taking careful aimed shots at the approaching targets. "Dunno what they do to build 'em that strong, but they're that strong."

Red peeked over the tailgate, the wind blowing through his mane, sending it whipping about as he sent a Fire careening into one of the troopers' tires, forcing it into a long skid against the asphalt and sending the trooper riding it into a hard tumble against the concrete divider. "It is certainly impressive, to be sure," he added.

Cloud swung again as a Shinra trooper advanced, the flat of the Buster Sword smacking hard against the body of the trooper, sending him flying as his bike slid out from beneath him. He held the blade firmly in his left hand, its mass and length still causing it to drag slightly against the pavement, causing sparks to fly out behind him. Barret took a shot at a pair of shapes in the distance, and was satisfied to watch them both drop. Another approached Cloud on his left side; a broad backhanded swing carved the opposing vehicle nearly in half, the trooper sliding hard on the pavement.

Ranma peered into the darkness behind them. "Is that all of them?" she asked.

"Unlikely," Red remarked, raising his front paw and pointing out into the darkness in the distance. "Take a look out there."

A massive black shape was approaching at speed. As it passed beneath the streetlights, they got glimpses of it. Six enormous spiked wheels. Several ports along the main body. And it was catching up fast. The tank-like object drew alongside Cloud and attempted to ram him from the side, trying to squash him against the highway divider. Cloud braked hard, swerving around the vehicle from behind to the other side and passing by.

Then the highway ran out.

The road simply ended in midair, the next segment still waiting to be assembled and slotted into place. Both passenger vehicles screeched to a halt, but the tank merely slowed, approaching the party as they piled out of the truck. The body of the tank began to raise up, a pair of enormous bladed arms extending out from either side of the torso section. Between the color of the metal and the shape of the body, it resembled a winged chess piece.

"Is it just me," Tifa observed, setting foot on the pavement, "or does it seem like someone just sits around in Shinra HQ and dreams up increasingly elaborate tank designs all day long?"

"Increasingly flawed, as well," Red quipped.

"Her name is Scarlet," Cloud answered, remembering the head of Weapons Research and Development from the previous night. "And yeah, that's basically her whole thing. She likes tanks."

Ranma facepalmed at that. "Yeah, we are not doin' this again," she muttered. "Everybody keep back!" The others dutifully stood their ground near the truck as Ranma strode forward. The Motor Ball tank sat there, seeming to be waiting for something. Ranma began to focus her breathing, her body glowing even in the darkness. "I don't know if you're watching, or listening, or even if you care, Rufus, but if you are, I hope you hear this. We don't belong to you. Don't come after us again."

The tank continued to sit still, its idling engine the only sound audible in the relative isolation from the rest of the city. Then the tank moved, its body shifting forward on the treads. The towering torso of the tank leaned forward and rotated its torso, brandishing its enormous blades at Ranma, and leveling a trio of enormous cannons atop its crown at the others.

Ranma nodded. "Yeah, that's about what I thought you'd say," she muttered, and pulled her arms close to her body, a familiar orange-and-red aura surrounding her body. "Mōko Takabisha Nenshō!" she shouted, thrusting both arms out in a clawed grip. Instead of aiming upward at the torso, she instead aimed at the highway directly in front of the tank. The massive red orb struck the pavement, spreading outward like goopy molten rock. Ranma leaped backwards, just before the attack detonated.

The blast did little enough damage to the tank, barely level with the middle of its wheels. But the tank wasn't the target. The pavement cracked and shattered, the force of the blast pushing giant chunks out of the elevated road and down into the unoccupied field outside Midgar. Suddenly lacking anything holding it up, Motor Ball disappeared through the hole in the pavement, the bladed arms snapping off as they struck the asphalt and tumbling to either side of the highway. There was an enormous crunching sound from below as the tank landed head-first and collapsed under the force of impact. A few seconds later, an explosion sounded from below as its combined armaments and flamethrower fuel ignited catastrophically.

"I'm really getting tired of those tanks," Ranma said, dusting off her hands before turning to face the others. "...what?"

The other members of the group, to a man, shared an expression of open-mouthed disbelief at the level of destruction Ranma casually wielded. "You…" Cloud began, pointing at the gaping hole in the pavement some fifteen meters across, but could find no further words to add to the statement.

Aerith and Tifa were no less baffled by the display of strength, even having witnessed the attack previously. Barret was floored, but hid that behind his usual tough exterior. Red, on the other hand, was staring at Ranma as one might a religious figure. "How are you capable of that?" he asked.

"Trust me, Red," Aerith said quietly, a faint smile visible in the early light, "I've been asking myself that same question about everything she does."

Barret grunted in agreement, and looked out towards the city, laid out before them, as the sun began to rise behind. "So, we've drawn blood against Shinra, and they ain't happy about it. What do we do now?"

Cloud looked over at Tifa, memories of their past washing over him. "Sephiroth is alive," he said. "I have to settle the score with him…"

"An' that'll save the planet?"

Cloud considered the question. "It seems that way," he answered. "There's too much going on that he's involved with at this point."

"I'm in, then," Barret grinned, pumping his fist in the air.

"Well, I'm in too," Ranma chimed in. "Unless we find something that gets me back home, you all are stuck with me."

Aerith glanced back at Midgar looming behind them. "I'm going too," she said, turning out towards the fields again. "I have… things… questions that need answers."

"You mean, about the Ancients?" Ranma queried.

"About… lots of things."

Ranma gave a nod. "Then I'll keep you safe until you can get home to Elmyra, too."

Tifa smiled gently. "I suppose this is goodbye to Midgar, then."

Red glanced between them. "I'll go with you as far as my hometown," he said. "I have been gone too long as it is. Though I should ask if any of you first have a plan to get us all down from this highway."

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"I am never going along with one of your plans, ever again," Red grumbled, clinging to Ranma's back.

"It was either this or tie a rope harness around your midsection and lower you that way," Ranma answered, climbing down the cable. A coil of rope had been found in the truck's flatbed. Two simple lengths of rope had been gently tied around Red's left and right paws, and created a makeshift backpack out of him. Ranma had volunteered to 'wear' Red and carry him down to ground level.

"It is humiliating," Red insisted. "I am not a sack of vegetables."

"No, you aren't," Ranma answered. "You look a bit like a lion from my world, you howl like a timberwolf, you speak like a human, and you fight like nothing I've ever seen. If I didn't know better I'd say you were from the Musk dynasty."

"What is this 'world' you and your friends keep alluding to?"

Ranma nearly shrugged, then remembered herself and the position they were currently in. "Tell you what, let's get somewhere safe, and then I'll tell you a story that will make your tongue fall out."

Red glanced downwards as they neared the ground. "I prefer my tongue where it is, thank you."

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It took nearly a half hour for all of them to safely rappel down to the ground outside the city, by which time the sun had fully risen over the distant foothills. Cloud was the last one down, brachiating down the coiled steel wire without even using his legs to steady himself, a feat that even Ranma considered impressive considering the counterweight strapped to his back.

"I guess this is the start of the journey, then," Tifa said quietly, a hint of reluctance in her voice.

Cloud glanced over at her, rubbing a bit of soreness out of his arms. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't think it matters anymore whether I'm going to be okay…" she gazed downward as she spoke. "I don't have anywhere else to go. We can't exactly walk back into Midgar. And… Nibelheim… isn't there anymore." She looked back up and smiled. "But I think as long as you keep your promise, I'll get by at least."

Cloud gave her a nod. "I'll do my best, then."

"I hope my mother will be okay," Aerith said. Ranma turned and gave her a warm hug.

"I gave her 'bout three thousand gil when she agreed to take care of Marlene," Barret responded. "She said she'd wait for any mess we made to die down, then get out of the city as soon as possible. She's tough… reminds me of my momma way back when. Think she'll be okay."

"I know she will," Ranma agreed. "I know her type too, she would walk through fire to make sure you could see her again."

Aerith smiled at that, and gave Barret and Ranma each a hug, before turning to Red and running a hand over his head. "I didn't say so before, but... thank you, all of you, for getting me out of that place. I honestly don't know what would have happened if I'd stayed there. It... means a lot to me that I have met you all, that you're all willing to do so much for me." She turned to Tifa and Cloud and took a step forward, hesitated, and gave them both a deep bow instead.

Barret nodded and strode into the middle of the group. "Okay, team…" he waited until he had everyone's attention. "It's dawn, Midgar's closed for business, and we've got what's in our pockets and on our backs. That's a decent chunk of change, but unless somebody else grabbed breakfast, we ain't got no food between us. Nearest outpost is out past the Drybed, and from there we oughta be able to get a ride out to Kalm. I know it's gonna suck for a bit, but we gotta half day's walk ahead of us to get to food and transport. And that means we all gotta start walkin', right now." There were some assorted groans and grumbles. "Yeah, I know, but it's that or we sit here and starve. An' we should probably choose a leader for this little group of ours. 'Course," Barret smiled, standing triumphantly amidst the others, "that could only be me."

Tifa shrugged. "I don't know," she started. "I think Cloud ought to be the leader."

Ranma blinked. "Yeah, definitely not me," she commented. "I barely knew my way around Midgar, don't ask me to try guiding us around the world."

"Agreed," Aerith smiled. "Ranma it isn't."

Barret glanced at the three girls. "Fine, whatever. Mister Big Shot Ex-SOLDIER, do you have any plans for us?"

Cloud gave a wan smile. "Honestly, I think you covered it all. Let's all get on the move, we've got a long walk ahead of us."

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The rumor among the rank and file was that an unknown group of terrorists had attacked Shinra Tower and killed the now-former President. Further speculation offered the possibility of an unknown weapon having been deployed within the Tower itself, as two large red spheres of energy had appeared in the pre-dawn sky, visible to anyone who had been awake and looking in the right direction at the time. There was, as of yet, no official stance or press release, but the Science Department had been heavily damaged, two gaping holes in the wall having been covered with tarp and gated off for safety. After some consideration, Heidegger had ordered all floors above the 65th to be sealed to any but executive access in an effort to prevent further rumors from circulating, which naturally caused them to spin up all the faster.

Rufus Shinra stood in front of one of the gaping holes in the wall. A portable monitor replayed a short clip of the event as captured by the independently-powered Science Department's security feeds. Rufus watched the young girl square her stance, move her arms, and an orb of energy had appeared in front of her. The orb sailed forward and everything in front of it had been pushed, bent, or simply crushed by whatever force it imparted. Rufus had seen the projectiles fly out of the tower as his helicopter circled the building, following his less-than-productive meeting with the escaped terrorists. He'd initially believed them to be some sort of flare or signal device, but the footage confirmed it.

The attack appeared to be composed of an entirely unidentified type of energy.

Rufus gave a smirk. "If only you could see me now, old man," he muttered to nothing in particular, the tarp flapping in the wind masking his words from the other occupants of the room. He turned to the assembled group. "You can see why I've called you here," he said flatly.

The five individuals stood at ease before Rufus, their attention focused more on the clip than the man in front of them All five of them wore the standard black tunic of First-class SOLDIERs. "New weapon test go out of control?" one of them asked. He was a tall man with short dark hair, his hand resting on the hilt of a long sword hanging at his hip.

"Hardly," Rufus answered, taking a step back. "Last night, four individuals bypassed Tower security, infiltrated the building, and remained undetected for nearly two hours. More than a dozen guards are dead, twice that number of civilians. They freed three... specimens, destroyed the Science department labs, and escaped. Among the intruders was this individual," he continued, gesturing to the monitor, "identified as Ranma Saotome. It is unknown if that is her real name, as we have been unable to determine any other information about her."

There was a moment where the collective response of all of the assembled individuals was that of stark disbelief. "Nothin' at all?" the second man said, his wild mass of red hair swaying with his motions. He carried a pair of short heavy blades, one over each shoulder. "Heh, sounds like the boys up in Administrative Research ain't earnin' their pay any more."

Rufus rolled his eyes. "Reports from the former President indicate that three different attempts were made to bring the target in for questioning. Two of those attempts ended in the Turks being recovered and spending a day or two in the Medical Ward. The third attempt ended in the destruction of Sector 7 by the girl's compatriots, a terrorist organization known as AVALANCHE. And despite your rivalry with the Turks," he raised a hand to forestall the jeering, "the injuries that were sustained were not out of incompetence. The reports were verified by all of the surviving troopers who accompanied them on the second outing. She was unarmed and unarmored, had no materia that could be seen, and yet is capable of some... uncanny ability which shreds both metal and trooper armor as if they were paper."

That got their attention. The third man, heavily built with a serious expression, a buzzcut, and dark skin, stood up from his position leaning against the wall, the metal of his club scraping against the ground. "She's really that strong?" he asked. "She doesn't look that strong."

Rufus gave a curt nod. "If the girl's boasting is to be believed, she deliberately used a weakened version of... whatever it is that she used." Rufus took a few steps forward and gestured to the monitor again. "To top that off, the footage here shows that she has access to at least one other destructive attack, which was capable of turning the reinforced, magic-proofed walls of the Science Department here into... well, nothing." He paused for a long moment. "There is also a secondary threat. It is unknown at this time whether the second attack was coordinated with this group's, but late last night at least one other individual infiltrated the building and killed Rupert Shinra. The assassin left this behind."

Rufus lifted a clear container from behind the impromptu briefing station, which held a two-meter-long curved blade, the bottom half-meter or so stained with blood. The last two, with identical shocks of reddish brown hair, wove between the others to get a good look. As they examined the weapon, there was an almost reverent silence. "Is that what I think it is?" the first man asked.

Rufus nodded. "It is the weapon which was used to kill my father. The one witness to the attack says that it was Sephiroth who did it. That is why you've been gathered." He strode up the line, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. "The five of you have the highest rate of success in missions taken in the last three years. You also have the highest aptitude scores for your respective weapons disciplines. Your orders are to find Ranma Saotome, and Sephiroth, or whoever is claiming to be him, and capture or kill them both."

The third man nodded. "Preference?"

Rufus shook his head. "Whatever you can manage. Capture for the girl is preferable, but kill her if she resists. Sephiroth..." he stopped for a moment, his gaze hardening. "I want to claim his head myself for killing my father, but I'll settle for having it delivered to me."

A murmur of agreement and understanding passed between the SOLDIERs. "Question," the fourth of the group said quietly, sharing a glance with the fifth. "There is doubt about whether this is Sephiroth, or an imitator?"

"Sephiroth was declared dead five years ago," Rufus answered. He placed one hand on the sealed weapon, looking down at it thoughtfully. "I'm not so foolish to as to believe that he has somehow resurrected himself, but the reports from then are less reliable than I'd like. Whatever happened, it's possible he faked his death and has been in hiding. Whether it is an impostor or the genuine article, he must be taken down." Rufus switched off the monitor and ran one hand through his hair. "I've given your clearance to the quartermaster already. You may requisition whatever you believe you may need, within reason. Any special requests go to me. Beyond that, good hunting, and dismissed."

The five SOLDIERs came to attention, saluted, and walked towards the elevator. They passed Tseng as he entered the room, who stepped up to the table and waited for Rufus to acknowledge him. "This was not how I wanted my return to proceed," he muttered. "Ousting Father, yes, but..." he trailed off, brushing a stray hair from his face. "That's no longer important. What is it, Tseng?"

Tseng cleared his throat. "Hojo is missing, sir."

Rufus turned to face him, not quite believing what he had just heard. "...'missing,'" he repeated flatly. He stared across the scorched table and over top the bloodstained Masamune to Tseng. Goddess take me if this day continues, he thought to himself. Aloud, he said in a tone that conveyed all of his irritation in two simple words, "Define 'missing.'"

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The Drybed, it turned out, was called that because years ago it had been a lake. After Shinra came in, it dried up. Nobody really knew why, but it was probably Shinra's doing, according to Barret. It was now a barren wasteland, hard-packed dried mud and silt that had been robbed of all its moisture and nutrients, barely supporting a few patches of grass and an occasional pack of Fangs roaming nearby.

It was just past noon by the time the six of them spotted the trail leading towards the outpost, which turned out to be a tiny hamlet with scarcely a dozen homes. A truck stop served as an inn, restaurant, supply depot, and source of obtaining transport, but the next passenger vehicle wouldn't be going to Kalm until the following morning. The six of them took the opportunity to eat and obtain supplies, eliciting quite a few surprised looks when Red sat down at a table and ordered from the menu. They also took the chance to get what was arguably the first uninterrupted night's sleep any of them had since before visiting the Corneo Mansion, three whole days prior.

The next morning, Ranma showed Red her party trick, and poured a cup of hot water over top of his head. Red watched as Ranma's body didn't so much transform as shift, moment to moment, between a clearly female form, and a clearly male form, without so much as a whisper of sound, a poof of clouds, or any other form of ostentation. The entire process took just over a second.

"But…" Red began, taking a long time to collect his thoughts. He paced around Ranma's feet, head lifted, and sniffed Ranma curiously, trying to make sense of the events in front of him. "You were female. You smelled like a female. Now you're male, and smell like a male." Red shook his head in confusion. "You can't do that! You shouldn't be able to do that! Nobody should be able to do that!"

"Wish that were true, buddy," Ranma replied. "Woulda made the last two years of my life a lot easier if I could disbelieve it strongly enough to make it not happen. It's real though, and this is the real me."

Red huffed, a sound made more impressive by his canine build. "No wonder you were insistent on the 'mister' back in Shinra Tower. I take it that the others are already informed of this… peculiarity?"

"They know about my curse, yeah," he answered. "It's been a lot of trouble here, because in the last several days, actually getting access to hot water when I needed to was… difficult."

"And this is… what you normally look like? How you identify, rather?"

Ranma nodded. "I was born a boy. I think of myself as a boy, even when my body isn't one. And if I ever find out how to get rid of this curse, I'll be a boy then too. I'm usually okay being referred to as female, though, when I'm a girl on the outside."

Red stared at him. "You are remarkably mature to have such an outlook."

"Shoulda seen me last year," he replied. "I was a jerk. Took me a while, but I grew past it. I still don't like it, but I've…" he trailed off, considering his words carefully. "I'm not at peace with it, but I found balance with it. It ain't perfect, but I can work with it and accept it for what it is."

Red nodded, and Ranma went to get his morning shower.

An hour later, just before dawn, their transport departed for Kalm.

A/N: Sorry, folks, we're skipping Motorball. Honestly, three unsatisfying, non-plot-advancing, mechanized tank boss battles, in a row? Yeah, no. Ranma was getting sick of them too. Seriously, Scarlet must just sit at the planning table all day drawing them up and getting them into production. She's Shinra's version of Fenster. And if anyone else actually gets that reference without looking it up I will be legitimately impressed.

As you can see, we've got more changes inbound. SOLDIER is being sent after AVALANCHE, or at least after Ranma. We have five specialists being sent out. You'll meet them and find out more details as we run across them. Suffice it to say, these guys are going to be hunting down the Midgar Wrecking Crew, even as they attempt to chase after Sephiroth. And... well, there will also be some further issues as we proceed.

There are more changes coming now that we are out of Midgar. The stage is set, the players are in motion, and now we can get down to business (to defeat... the Huns). We've got one more chapter ahead that is primarily backstory, including, finally, what happened to Ranma to change him from the arrogant and somewhat sexist but talented martial artist he used to be, to the somewhat more introspective, less impulsive, and more socially aware warrior we've mostly seen thus far.

Hope you like it! Comments and feedback welcome!