Loveless: Ato 1 – Cena 9

Mais uma parte de Loveless.

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Act I: The Ruby Dragon

Scene Nine

Reno eased himself into a sitting position, pushing the weight of his body against his elbows. His recovery was going well, due largely to the materia-based treatments he was receiving. Outside, day was breaking, but with the thick mass of gray clouds that blanketed the city, it was hard to tell that without knowing the time.
A brief succession of knocks sounded on the door; upon hearing them, Reno allowed a small smile to cross his face. He recognized his visitor by the staccato rhythm of his knuckles against the wood; it was someone who had promised to see him before he left town.
“Come in, Reeve.”
The executive, casually dressed in a white polo shirt and khakis, opened the door and walked in. After setting his work satchel and small suitcase on a chair, he came to Reno’s bedside. He stood there in silence, staring at Reno.
“You’re not going to sit down?” asked the Turk.
Reeve shook his head. “I can’t stay for very long. How have you been?”
“Not bad. Doctors are saying I can go home within a week.”
“Glad to hear it,” Reeve answered, smiling for the first time since he entered.
“And how are you? Looks like you’re all ready to go.”
“Yeah. I’m looking forward to seeing Costa del Sol again.”
“Have you and Kramler figured out what to do about that snitch?”
“Not yet,” Reeve murmured. “I can’t talk about that here anyway. I’ll tell you what went down when I get back.”
“Right. Tell Kramler I said hi.”
“Of course, and I’ll see if I can pick you up a little— something while I’m there.”
Reno’s eyes lit up. “Really? Just make sure it’s none of that Bone Village—”
“—hippie shit. I know, I know,” Reeve finished, smirking.
Reno returned Reeve’s smirk. The executive seemed a bit more relaxed than he had been these past few days.
“So, nothing else going on?”
“You’ve probably heard about President Shinra’s funeral, already.”
“Tseng told me about it last night.”
“The next big event coming up is that celebration of Rufus’ presidency.”
“Funny… I didn’t hear about that.”
“Not many have; Rufus told me about it just this morning. I went into the office to leave some last-minute instructions for my secretary and happened to run into him. He wanted my opinion on some banner designs before I left.”
“Where’s he having this thing?”
“Junon, a couple of weeks from now. Don’t think I’ll be able to make it, though.”
Reno nodded. He wanted to ask more about Rufus, but he wasn’t aware of how much Reeve knew of the young Shinra’s infatuation with him, and thought it better to leave the topic untouched. Somehow, thinking of Rufus made him think of Elena. She had called Reno last night, telling him of her acceptance into the Turks. He was happy for her, but sensed by her tone that there was something bugging her. He asked Elena if anything was wrong, and was met with a brief silence, interrupted by a, “No, nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?” Reno chose to wave off the topic and steer the conversation in another direction, but in a different manner than he was doing now.
“Reeve, can I ask you something?”
“What is it?”
Reno stared at his hands, resting palms-up in his lap. He looked up again. “Why have you decided to go skirt-chasing now, after all this time?”
Reeve sat down in a chair close to the head of the bed. The Turk raised an eyebrow.
“What did she tell you this time?” Reeve asked.
“She didn’t say anything when she called yesterday, but I could tell that something was up.”
“I’m only trying to take some advice a friend gave me… back when Scarlet first betrayed my trust.”
“Touché,” Reno countered. “All right man, do what you want with her.”
“Are you sure this doesn’t bother you? I mean, considering how you feel about me…”
“And how is that?”
“You know. It’s a way that you shouldn’t feel.”
“Why?”
“Because,” Reeve said as he got up. “you’ll only get yourself hurt. I have to go. I’m scheduled to meet the Highwind on the outskirts of the city a half-hour from now.”
“Reeve.”
“Yes?”
“I’m… not afraid of pain, you know.”
Reeve turned around and looked at Reno, who wore a determined expression. The executive gave a small affirmative nod, then picked up his things and started for the door.
“Reno,” he replied, “it’s not you that I’m worried about. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay…” Reno said, pondering Reeve’s words. “Have a good trip.”
Reeve nodded and left the room.

*****

Tseng spotted Elena walking toward the Sector Five gate only a few minutes before their scheduled meeting time. She stopped in front of him and saluted. “Reporting for duty, sir!”
Tseng and Rude exchanged glances before the former turned back to Elena. “No need for formalities here. We’re Turks, meaning that we operate according to our own rules. I can already see that you have much to learn.”
Elena didn’t reply as he turned his back to her and pulled out his Sector Five keycard. Tseng tried not to let Elena’s inexperience get to him, but she was somewhat green, and as such, would have to be lavished with extra attention. Her crush on him, which he was well aware of, would only make things even more difficult. Thank goodness Rude would be with them for this first job.
The Sector Five gate slid open, revealing four yellow chocobos chained to stakes, patiently waiting for them. As Rude and Elena loaded their bags and supplies onto the back of one of the birds, Tseng drew out a slip of paper with some numbers scribbled on it and undid the combination locks that kept the chocobos secure.
“How did these chocobos get here?” Elena asked.
“I had some MPs arrange them for our use,” Tseng replied. “I would’ve preferred black ones, which are faster and a bit more reliable, but these were the best they could do on such short notice.”
“So where are we going first?”
“Toward Kalm. It’s quite the rumor mill; a great place for gathering information. There’s a very good chance we can find out something about Sephiroth there.”
“What about AVALANCHE?”
“What about AVALANCHE?”
“Well… what if we run into them on the way? They’re wanted criminals as well.”
Tseng paused. “Our priority is Sephiroth. Understood?”
“…Understood.”
“Excellent,” Tseng replied as he mounted his chocobo. Rude and Elena followed suit, and soon, they were riding away from Midgar.

Early that afternoon, Kalm drew near; already, the Turks could see the parapets of the old castle walls that surrounded most of the town. Tseng cast a sidelong glance at Elena; as he had expected, there was a smile on her face upon seeing her hometown. He wondered if Kalm’s penchant for Shinra-influenced rumor-monging had rubbed off on her, then remembered what she had said about the Sector Seven plate. In Midgar, even the lowly slum dwellers had suspected Shinra of being behind the plate’s felling, but the “official” rumor that had been circulated was that AVALANCHE did the deed. He gazed back over the fields and let out a tired sigh. Elena was a Kalm girl at heart.
As their chocobos continued galloping across the meadows, the Turks came upon flocks of grazing sheep. Many yards away, a lone shepherd sat on a gray boulder, reading a book. The sheep didn’t pay any attention to the chocobos as they walked through the flocks. Then, all of a sudden, many of the sheep started bleating and running in all different directions. The Turks looked around them and saw packs of mutant wolves with indigo fur, running across the fields to attack the flock. Elena turned to Tseng, distraught.
“We should do something!”
Tseng said nothing. He looked at the scattered sheep, then at the frantic shepherd who had climbed on top of the rock to escape the wolves, which the locals called “Kalm fangs”. A small, ponderous smile crossed Tseng’s face.
“Yes. We should, shouldn’t we?”
As Tseng drew his pistol from out of the folds of his coat, Rude jumped off of his chocobo and ran toward the nearest fangs, pummeling them with his fists. Elena drew a small device from her coat pocket, which Tseng caught sight of out of the corner of his eye.
“What’s that?”
“A grenade. Scarlet supplied me with a few of them before I left headquarters this morning,” she said as she hooked her thumb in the pin to pull it.
Tseng reached over and clamped his hand over hers. “Do you want to blow up the sheep as well? I suggest you use something else—perhaps your gun or some materia.”
Elena bowed her head. “Sorry, sir.”
“It’s okay,” Tseng said as he removed his hands. “Now let’s get rid of these wolves.”
“Right!”
Tseng galloped off toward one pack of fangs, while Elena went after another. As his chocobo ran across the hilly field, Tseng drew his pistol and shot three of the wolves, catching one right in the skull. He maimed or killed another six in this manner, then rode back to his companions as the remaining fangs started to retreat. Rude stood by a small pile of bludgeoned wolves, while Elena cast a mid-level ice spell on one fang that had refused to run away with his brethren. She dusted her hands off as Tseng approached.
“Looks like we haven’t lost many sheep, sir!”
Tseng nodded as he looked away beyond her. “The shepherd’s coming this way. Let me do all the talking.”
“Y—yes sir.”
The shepherd stopped before the Turks and bowed. “Thank you ever so much for getting rid of those nasty fangs!” She turned to Elena. “Miss Elena, it is good to see you again!”
Elena smiled, and was about to reply when Tseng broke in, “I’m afraid we’re short on time. We’re the Shinra Turks, and we’re in pursuit of a man with grayish-white hair, dressed mostly in black. Our sources indicate that he was headed in this direction.”
The shepherd’s face froze as she whispered, “Is it true that such a man killed President Shinra?”
“Have you seen him or not?”
“I did yesterday. He gave me and my sheep quite a fright, but he just walked past as though he didn’t notice us.”
“In which direction did he go?”
“Toward Kalm, where I live. Funny thing is, once I got back into town yesterday, I didn’t see him at all. Maybe he had left by then.”
Tseng furrowed his brows. “I see. Well, thank you for your time.”
As Rude walked back to retrieve the pack chocobo as well as the one he had been riding, Tseng and Elena rode a little ways ahead toward Kalm.
“We Turks never, ever do things without a reason,” Tseng lectured. “We try to employ reciprocity whenever possible. As you just saw, our driving away of those Kalm fangs helped us gain a bit of valuable information. We must never overlook such opportunities.”
“Sir, why is that?” Elena asked.
“Because not everyone trusts Shinra,” answered Tseng. “Not even in Kalm.”
Elena nodded. Tseng wondered if it was because she understood, or because she was agreeing with him.
“Kindness is more persuasive than force,” Tseng continued, “and if we can temper the force of Shinra with a deliberate bit of kindness, all the better for us.”
Elena bowed her head. “Sir… but what if… I mean… can we ever do things out of our own kindness, without expecting something in return?”
Tseng turned to face her, a little bit shocked. He had not been expecting a question like this. As she met his gaze, he found himself troubled; not by her innocence, or her idealism, but by her naiveté. The world was a very complex place, and true heroism was far more trouble than it was worth. This he knew from experience. He was deeply saddened by her question, but tried not to let it show.
“We aren’t allowed to be heroes, Elena. That’s not our job.”

*****

Even though it had been well over a year since she had last visited her hometown, Kalm hadn’t changed much. It was still the same small, quiet village it had always been. As the Turks dismounted from their steeds and secured their reigns on a railing near the town’s wall, Tseng addressed his subordinates.
“Now listen: we’re here for information on ‘the man in black’, so don’t get too distracted by anything else. Most of the people here are supportive of Shinra, but there are a few who aren’t, so be tactful in your inquiries and don’t say any more than you have to.”
Rude and Elena nodded, then the three went their separate ways.

Elena’s first stop was the local tavern; she knew that at this time of day, there would be a good number of people about. As she entered, she was surprised to find that most of the crowd consisted of miners. Kalm’s biggest export was mythrill, dug out from the mountain caves beyond the Midgar Swamp; the miners had a camp there, and were usually away from town for months at a time. Just then, she spotted her half-brother, Steve, sitting at the counter, and snuck up behind him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he whirled around, almost falling off of his stool once they had come face to face.
“Elena! What on earth are you doing here?” He got to his feet and looked her up and down. “Don’t tell me. You made it, right? You’re a Turk?”
“That I am!” she answered, clasping her hands behind her back. “I’m on my first mission as we speak!”
“Congratulations! Are the other Turks with you?”
“Yeah, they’re around. We split up to gather information.”
“Information? About what?”
“A man wearing a black cloak. You seen him?”
A shudder visibly ran down Steve’s spine. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve seen him. Got long silvery hair and a big-ass sword, right?”
“That’s him.”
“I saw a guy like that earlier this morning. He was walking east, toward the Chocobo Farm. He looked really scary… Who is he, anyway?”
“He’s Sephi—”
Elena found her reply cut off by a hand clapped over her mouth. The hand was smooth, yet firm, and smelled faintly of gun metal. She tilted her eyes upward and found that her captor was Tseng.
“Elena, remember what I said about tactfulness. Say only what you have to.”
Steve looked up at the stern Turk leader. “Is that your boss?” he asked, pointing to Tseng.
Elena nodded through Tseng’s grip; he let her go and she turned to face him.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered.
“Do you know what for?”
“For saying more than was necessary.”
“Just don’t let it happen again.” He looked over at Steve, who had come to Elena’s side. “And who are you, sir?”
“Me? Oh, I’m Elena’s brother, Steve.”
Tseng eyed Steve’s hazel eyes, identical to Elena’s own, and his reddish-orange hair, which wasn’t.
“Her brother?”
“Well, half-brother, actually,” Elena explained. “We both have the same father.”
“I see,” said Tseng. “Elena, come to the inn when you have a chance. There’s something I want to show you. And remember, watch your tongue.”
The Turk leader turned to leave, then looked back.
“By the way, thanks for the information, Steve.”
Tseng left the tavern.
Elena sighed and climbed up on a bar stool. Steve sat on the one right next to her.
“So that’s your boss, huh? Seems like a real hardass.”
“No, I deserved that,” Elena muttered. “I’m still new to this job. I don’t know all the protocols yet.”
“Don’t they teach you that stuff as a Turk trainee?”
“Not all of it…” Elena was about to tell him the circumstances surrounding her quick hiring, but thought better of it. Instead, she took another look around the bar. “Hey Steve? Why are all these miners here? Why aren’t they at the camps?”
“I guess you haven’t heard. Monsters have been showing up in those parts lately. They say the biggest one is a serpent that measures thirty feet long.”
“Where did they come from?”
“No one knows. There’s a rumor going around that Shinra secretly makes them in their mako reactors. I don’t believe a word of it, myself.”
Elena just nodded, wondering to herself if this was true. She glanced at her watch.
“Oh! It’s getting late. Sorry Steve, but I really have to go.”
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re on a mission, right?”
“Yeah,” Elena said as she slid off the stool. She gave her brother a tight hug, then started toward the door. “Say hi to Dad for me, will you?”
“Sure thing! Good luck on your mission!”
“Thanks!”
Elena waved goodbye, then ran off toward the inn.

As she entered the front lobby of the Kalm Inn, Tseng and Rude rose from their chairs and walked over to her. Tseng motioned to the vacant front desk.
“There’s something in the register I thought you should see.”
Elena walked up to the desk and read the book. The most recently written pair of names were Tifa Lockheart and Barret Wallace. She looked back up at the two men wearing a quizzical expression.
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Barret Wallace is the leader of AVALANCHE,” Rude answered. “They were here last night.”
“Who is this ‘Tifa’, then?”
The bald man furrowed his brows. “The last member of AVALANCHE.”
“Back when I was doing my research, I thought it strange that I could find record of neither her nor Cloud,” Tseng said, “but after what Rude told me, it all made sense.”
“What did?”
“Their records were erased,” Rude replied as he started for the door, “Not only because they are natives of Nibelheim, but they also had the bad luck of being in Nibelheim five years ago, when the incident occurred…”
Elena watched Rude go, gaping into the small crack where his past could just barely be seen. Tseng crossed his arms.
“After I left you at the tavern, he told me the story of how he came to know Tifa. He spent the first seven years of his life in Nibelheim before his family moved to the Junon area. Tifa was an acquaintance from those days.”
“What about the ‘incident’ that he mentioned?”
“That’s an even longer story, but one I’m not qualified to tell.”
Elena nodded, wondering what Tseng meant by this. “So anyway, where are we headed next?”
“The Chocobo Farm, of course. Didn’t your brother say something about Sephiroth heading in that direction?”
“Oh, right,” she said, sheepishly scratching the back of her head.
“On chocobo-back, it’s only a few days’ travel from here. If we’re unable to find Sephiroth there, we’ll stay at the farmhouse for the night, then set out again the following morning with whatever new leads we’re able to pick up. I’ve already called Choco Bill to arrange for him to take care of our birds should we have to cross the Midgar Swamp.”
Tseng turned and left the inn. Elena followed him, and saw that Rude was busy securing the bags on the pack chocobo. The bald man furrowed his brows thoughtfully.
“Hey, Tseng,” he muttered. “Do you think Tifa and her friends are chasing after Sephiroth as well?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll call the President once we’re on our way to the Chocobo Farm and let him know they were here. Considering the nature of our previous encounters, I hope they don’t try to interfere with our work.” Tseng mounted his chocobo. “Let’s get going. Is everyone ready?”
Rude mounted his own bird and nodded an affirmative; Elena followed suit. As they left Kalm, she thought about the conversation they had just had. Tseng didn’t seem too concerned about AVALANCHE being on Sephiroth’s trail. Didn’t he want to get back at them for all the mayhem they’d caused? And what about what they’d done to poor Reno?
As they galloped toward the eastern grasslands, Elena thought about Tseng; more than ever, she wanted to get to know him.

*****

A soft cooing drew Zack out of his dreamless sleep. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, and was startled to see a large yellow and orange face staring at him. The frightened young chocobo screeched loudly and ran off.
Zack pulled himself up to the top of the rock against which he had fallen asleep and looked out over the green meadows, softly lit by the rising sun. Nearly a week had passed since he, guided by Jenova’s will, killed President Shinra and left Midgar. He was not sure why Jenova had wanted him to take this journey, nor where her ultimate destination was. Figuring that nothing worse could happen to him at this point, he let his will go, free for Jenova to control. She was his arms, his legs, his voice. However, even though she held dominion over his tongue, she could not completely disable his thoughts.
“Jenova, where do we go from here?”
“We must make our way across the wetlands,” she answered, her voice ringing in his ear, melodic in a minor key. “There is a military base on the other side, where we will find passage across the sea.”
Zack understood; their next stop was to be Junon. He stood up, brushing his long black coat free of the grass and dirt that had accumulated on it. As he took his gray hair and tied it into a ponytail, he stared down at the slender blade leaning against the rock, its tip digging into the dirt. It was not the Masamune; rather, it was a replica made from Jenova’s own flesh and bearing the sword’s aura. Like his Sephiroth-self, this mock-Masamune was merely camouflage for Jenova’s true form. He picked up the blade and began walking.
Less than a mile ahead of him, a ranch came into view. With the outer pen empty of animals, the place was fairly quiet. An old man sat on a folding chair in front of the closest building, a farmhouse, smoking a long pipe. Silently, Zack walked past the pen, then headed southward toward the stagnant waters of the Midgar Swamp.
“Hey!”
The voice came from behind him. He turned around to see the old man standing up, his hands cupped around his mouth.
“You aren’t gonna cross the swamp on foot, are you?”
“I was planning on it…”
The man started walking closer, obviously in an effort to save himself the trouble of yelling.
“You’d better catch a chocobo to help get you across. There’s a huge monster that lurks in these waters—scared off all of Kalm’s miners, it did.”
“A monster, you say?”
“Yeah. A big water snake called the Midgar Zolom. It moves faster than most people can run. You’ll definitely need the speedy legs of a chocobo.”
Zack’s Sephiroth-self smiled cryptically. “I think I’ll take my chances.” He turned around and continued his trek toward the swamp. As he walked, he heard the old man sigh.
“He probably thinks that I’m crazy,” Zack thought. “What if this monster of his is really as dangerous as he’s making it out to be?”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Jenova replied. “If we do run across this beast, we’ll take care of it.”

Deep in the swamp, with the Mythrill Mines just starting to come into view, Zack waded through knee-high water, thankful that Sephiroth always wore such tall boots. The bog was thick with algae, sawgrass, and mosquitos, but curiously free of wading-birds, lizards, and any other wildlife that would be typical for this environment. Zack thought that this may have been because of the Midgar Zolom. He wondered about all the monsters he had slain since leaving Midgar. In the past, the world wasn’t as populated with such malicious beasts. Where had they all come from?
A sharp pain hit his skull as this last thought materialized. He knew the answer—or at least, he should know. Someone had shown him something a long time ago… in Nibelheim. He fell to his knees, the pain overwhelming any control that Jenova had over him at that moment.
“Get up,” she demanded.
Zack shook his head furiously. “I can’t. It’s my memory that’s doing this to me.”
“Your memory?”
“Missing… something’s missing…”
“Ahh…yes,” Jenova replied after a brief pause, a sharper edge to her voice. “Of course.”
Zack leaned over, holding his head in pain. As he was about to topple into the water, he pushed his hands down beneath the surface and gripped at the mud and clay. He closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths. The bog fell deathly silent; not even a ripple could be heard. Finally, he stood up, algae clinging to his gloves and armlets, and looked straight ahead. As he started to take a step forward, he was pulled back into the water, then whipped high into the air.
His left leg was held in a tight grip by the forked, scaly tail of a massive beast. It was, like the old man had described, an enormous snake. The Midgar Zolom flicked out its purple tongue and flung Zack back into the water, where he quickly got back onto his feet, drawing his sword as he did so. Not bothering to wait for the Zolom’s next move, he stepped forward, swinging the Masamune in a wide arc. The Zolom’s grayish-green scales were barely scratched.
“This beast is tougher than I anticipated,” Jenova admitted. “I will need you in a more powerful form…”
Suddenly, Zack felt a strange sensation running through his body. Two large things burst from his back as his feet left the ground. His right arm turned into a pinkish-purple tentacle, and his left gripped the Masamune’s hilt tighter than before. He hovered before the Zolom as it drew itself to its full height, its forked tail twitching rapidly. Zack swooped forward, slashing at the Zolom’s head in a move that was more powerful than his first, before Jenova’s added mutations. The sword caught the Zolom in the eye; blood squirted out in a flailing stream, hitting Zack as the screaming serpent thrashed from side to side. With his adversary’s blood dripping from his hair and chin, Zack plunged the blade into the torn eye, straight through to the creature’s brain.
“Incredible…” Zack thought as he felt the beast’s final struggles through the vibrations of his sword.
“I see you are in awe of my power.”
“I must admit… it is certainly something.”
For a moment, Zack thought he could sense Jenova smile. “Now, puppet,” she answered. “Let us be rid of this nuisance and continue on our way.”
Still floating in mid-air, Zack twisted around the dead Zolom and dragged the beast behind him with the lodged Masamune. The waters of the Midgar Swamp began to recede as they neared the Mines, replaced by solid ground dotted here and there by the skeletal forms of leafless trees. Zack stopped before the first one they came to.
“We will leave the beast here,” Jenova whispered. “It will doubtless serve as a warning to all those who dare stand in our—”
“What?” Zack interrupted. “You mean someone is after us?”
“I have sensed two groups through my other puppets… A trio in dark blue suits, and those that you saw in the cells before you freed me.”
Zack nodded to himself as he impaled the dead Zolom on the chosen tree. The Turks—the “trio in blue suits”—he could understand. Doubtless, they were on a mission to catch the President’s killer. Why Cloud, Aeris, and their friends would be following him, he wasn’t sure.
As usual, Jenova was reading his mind. “Your friends from the laboratory… they do have their reasons. You will discover them for yourself once your memory is recovered.”
“You mean my memories will come back to me?” he asked as he wrested the Masamune free from the Zolom’s head.
“In due time, puppet. Just trust in me…”
Zack sighed as his body floated to solid ground. As his feet touched the soil, he felt Jenova’s “wings” retreat into his body and the tentacle reform itself into a human arm. He stared into the dark cave opening that lay a few yards ahead of him.
“I was afraid you were going to say that.”

Loveless: Ato 1 – Cena 8

Finalmente, depois de tanto tempo, lhes trago a cena oito de Loveless. ._.’

———-

Act I: The Ruby Dragon

Scene Eight

The Shinra Building never slept. Tseng kept this fact well in mind as he and Rude tried to come up with a plan for springing Aeris. They knew exactly where she was being held, so finding her would pose no problem. The real trick lay in getting there without drawing any unwanted attention to themselves. They needed an excuse for being in the Science Department cellblock, and a damned good one at that. Tseng leaned back into his swivel chair and meditated, hoping that by clearing his mind, an inspiration would come to him. Rude lowered his head and furrowed his brows, apparently focused on his own thoughts. The seconds ticked away on the wall clock.
Tseng’s PHS rang, but he didn’t shift from his meditative position. The phone ended up ringing six times before he picked it up from his desk and flipped it open. Whoever’s calling me at this time of night better have something really important to discuss, Tseng thought.
“Tseng Kawaguchi speaking.”
“Tseng! T-this is Palmer. President Shinra’s dead!”
“Where are you?”
“In his office. Please, come quick!”
Tseng grunted an affirmative and hung up. He stood up and leaned over his desk to shake Rude’s shoulder. The bald man looked up and asked, “What happened?”
Tseng walked over to the coat rack and removed his jacket and shoulder holster. “That’s what we’re going to find out. Make sure you’re well-equipped,” he said as he checked his pistol. “It seems that the President is dead.”
“What?”
“Looks like we have to put our current plans on hold,” Tseng said as he shrugged into his coat.

The twin stenches of fresh blood and flesh struck their noses as the two Turks stepped out of the elevator at the 69th Floor—the lower lobby of the President’s office. They walked over to the receptionist’s area and gasped in horror.
In his five years as a Turk, not once had Tseng seen a sight as gruesome as the one he now encountered. The clawed, mangled bodies of about a dozen or so secretaries, assistants, and other executive personnel were strewn about the wet floor. Mixed in with the puddles of blood were bits of organ tissue and bone; large red splatter marks defiled the smooth metal walls.
Tseng glanced at Rude. “We should head upstairs.” Rude silently nodded. The two Turks ascended to President Shinra’s chambers.
They were among the first to arrive in the 70th Floor office that night. Palmer stood before the President’s desk, where the impaled corpse still sat. Rude removed his shades and stared at the Masamune, eyes wide. Tseng himself was quite stunned; he knew for a fact that there were very few people capable of wielding that blade. As Rude walked closer to the desk to get a better look, the other executives trickled in, along with some paramedics. Scarlet and Heidegger were both dressed as they had been during the day, but Reeve, who had arrived just ahead of them, was a bit more disheveled, and his tie had evidently been left at home. The latter walked up to Tseng and asked what had happened.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” replied the Turk.
As the medical crew began to remove President Shinra’s body, a bright light shone in through the floor-length windows. It was Rufus’ private helicopter, coming in for a landing. Soon, Rufus himself walked into the office, holding his shotgun in one hand and Dark Nation’s empty leash in the other. He looked around the room and saw the four executives and the two Turks staring back at him. Upon first glance, Tseng could see that Rufus’ expression was stern and serious, but behind this mask, the redness lining his eyes was just barely showing through.
“Where’s Hojo?” Rufus asked Palmer. The Space Program chairman shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know. I tried calling his office, but I couldn’t get through.”
Rufus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. He waited for the medical crew to leave with his father’s body, then turned his attention to the executives and Turks.
“Now that we’re all present—well, almost all of us—here’s what happened. According to Palmer, Sephiroth came in here and had a brief altercation with my father. As you have seen, the results of that argument…” Rufus trailed off as he looked back at the desk and now-empty swivel chair. He ran a hand down his face and exhaled wearily.
“Sir—” Tseng started, but was stopped by the young Shinra’s raised hand.
“There’s more,” Rufus continued, “If there are to be no more interruptions, Tseng.”
Tseng deadpanned, “Of course not, sir.”
“Now, after Sephiroth’s intrusion, AVALANCHE somehow escaped and came up to this office. I fought against one of them, the ex-SOLDIER to be exact, and sent out some of our troops and mecha to take care of the rest. The entire group is being pursued on one of the Upper City’s highways as we speak.”
Tseng was somewhat relieved upon hearing this bit of news, but did not show it.
Scarlet folded her arms and asked, “You sent mecha? May I ask which kind?”
“The Motor Ball. It was the best thing I could get ahold of on such short notice.”
“So you sent a prototype.”
“Is there something wrong with that?” Rufus asked, glaring at the Weapons Dev. Chair. “It was my decision as President and Chief Executive Officer, and I believe it was the best one under the circumstances.”
There must’ve been something about his confident tone of voice, because she then shrunk back and replied, “Of course. Whatever you think is best, sir.”
Rufus nodded and quickly glanced at Reeve. Meanwhile, Tseng kept his watchful eye on the new President.
“If I may ask, sir,” the head Turk cut in, “what happened to Dark Nation?”
“She died defending me.”
“I see. Well then, if you don’t have any further announcements or orders for us, I will be going.”
“Just one order, Tseng. I want the Turks to track down my father’s killer.”
Tseng raised an eyebrow. “Track Sephiroth?”
“Yes. And I want all three of you for this job.”
“In that case, we have a problem. Reno’s wounds from the Sector Seven plate incident are a bit more severe than you might realize. He’s currently not able to travel, much less fight.”
“I suppose you’ll have to hire another Turk, then.”
Tseng stepped forward. “With the recent AVALANCHE bombings, I have considered such measures recently, but I keep asking myself: what will happen when Reno does recover, which he most certainly will? There can be no more than three Turks in service at one time—never has been, and never will be.”
“There’s more than enough money in the budget to support a fourth Turk.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Having more than three active Turks is a bad omen.”
Rufus folded his arms decisively. “I want three Turks for this job. If Reno is unable to work, as you say, then you will have to hire someone else to replace him. Whatever happens after Reno’s recovery is up to you.”
Tseng stood there, staring at Rufus and pondering his words. He didn’t like the idea very much, but realized the precarious position he would be in were he to defy the President’s orders.
“…I’ll see what I can do, sir.”
Rufus gave Tseng a curt nod and turned to the others. “I want funeral arrangements to be made as soon as possible. Also, my personal staff needs to be transferred to the President’s office. Of course, this mess—as well as the ones on the 67th and 68th floors—must be taken care of at once. I am requesting the cooperation of the Company’s executives in these matters, which we will discuss at length in a meeting tomorrow morning, nine AM sharp. Other than that, I have no immediate orders, nor anything else to say. You are all dismissed.”
As Scarlet, Palmer, Heidegger, Rude, and Tseng turned to leave, Reeve continued standing where he was. Tseng stopped at the top of the stairs and called over to him.
“You heard the President. Let’s get going.”
Reeve walked over to Tseng and replied, “But I can’t just leave him like this.”
“Trust me, it’s for the better if you do.”
Reeve stared at Tseng, his eyes slightly widened. “How can you say that?” he whispered as he came closer to the Turk. “Listen, you of all people must know the sort of pain he’s going through—”
Tseng could feel the executive’s stare burn into him as he hissed, “Yes, Reeve. Yes I do. I know it very well. And that’s precisely why I want nothing to do with Rufus right now.”
Without waiting for Reeve’s reply, Tseng sharply turned away and marched downstairs.

*****

As the executives and Turks trailed downstairs, Rufus turned to gaze out of the window of his new office. The lifeless body of his father having been removed, he felt a wave of serenity wash over him. After taking a deep breath and turning away from the window, he was surprised to see Reeve still standing in the otherwise vacant expanse. Rufus watched as Reeve walked toward him, the muffled clop of his leather shoes echoing across the marble floor. A small, weary smile crossed the President’s lips.
“You don’t have to stay here, you know. You’re free to go back home.”
Reeve stopped in front of the younger man. “I know, but… how can I put this?” he said, scratching his head. “I just felt like I should. I lost my own parents three years ago.”
Rufus lowered his eyes. “Yes, I remember. I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” Reeve answered, placing a hand on Rufus’ shoulder. “There was nothing that could’ve been done at the time.”
Rufus simply nodded. Reeve’s hand slid off of his shoulder.
“Listen,” Reeve said, looking Rufus in the eye. “Is there anything I can do for you?
Rufus shuffled closer to Reeve and placed his forehead against his shoulder, and his hands on his back. After a moment, he felt Reeve’s arms encircle him. Rufus turned his head, where he got a glimpse of Reeve’s neck and the side of his face. Reeve’s expression was stoic as he turned an eye toward Rufus, eyebrow raised.
“Not quite what I was expecting, but I understand.”
“Well, you did offer…”
“True.”
They stood in silence for a while, holding each other. As the tears began to flow down his cheeks, Rufus kept himself fully conscious of Reeve’s presence, taking in his bodily warmth, the evenly paced rhythm of his breathing, and the rich, musky odor that clung to him. However, he knew that the only reason he was experiencing this at all was because his father had been killed. With this thought, Rufus found himself locked in between a personal heaven and hell, and wasn’t sure whether he wanted to stay there, or escape from it altogether.
“Hey, Reeve.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this. Being President, I mean.”
“Nonsense. You’ll do a fine job.”
“You think so?”
Reeve pulled away from Rufus. “Yes, I do… Are you going to be all right?”
Rufus shook his head. “Honestly, no. Not for a little while, at any rate.”
“Didn’t think so. Listen, I’m really sorry but I have to go soon. I’m leaving on a trip shortly and I haven’t gotten any packing done.”
“Vacation?”
“Yes.”
“You aren’t going to be here for my father’s funeral?”
“Well, I was just getting to that. If it’s all right with you, I’d like to delay my trip so I can pay my respects to your father.”
“That’s fine with me. I’ll look into getting all the necessary paperwork done.”
“Thank you, Rufus.”
“My pleasure,” he said, smiling. You know I’d do just about anything for you…
Reeve smiled back, a smile that quickly morphed into a grimly thoughtful expression. He bowed his head momentarily, then looked back up to Rufus. “I have a bit of a personal question, if you don’t mind.”
Rufus tilted his head and gave Reeve a slightly quizzical look. “I don’t mind. What is it?”
“Well, it’s just… what’s going on between you and Tseng?”
Rufus’ expression flattened. “What do you mean?”
“I get the impression that there’s some bad blood between you two.”
“I… don’t want to talk about it.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Reeve said. “I’ll be going home now. You should as well.”
“Reeve—” Rufus said softly, grabbing his arm as he started to leave. “Thank you.”
Reeve turned to look at him. Once again, Rufus was stuck by the darkness of his eyes; to him, it seemed to be a restless darkness that wanted to absorb everything around it, but was forcefully restrained from doing so.
“It was nothing,” Reeve replied, giving Rufus a small smile. “See you in the morning.”
Rufus released him and watched as he turned toward the stairs. After Reeve had left, Rufus paced around the empty office. He looked back at the massive desk, his mind a whirlwind of thought. He was intimidated by this new task of filling his father’s shoes, yet excited over all the possibilities it contained. The Shinra Electric Power Company was his now, and as such, he was free to mould it to his personal vision. He thought about the exchange that had just occurred between him and Reeve—handsome, wonderful, sensuous Reeve—and concluded that things were definitely looking up. There was just one thing that bothered him:
What’s going on between with you and Tseng?
Rufus made a mental note to make sure that Reeve never found out.

*****

Rude was impressed with the precision of Rufus’ arrangements for President Roland Shinra’s funeral. Surely, he thought, this new President doesn’t waste any time in getting things done. In a mere two days after the President’s assassination, Rufus had arranged a dignified memorial service for his departed father.
As the midday sun struggled to shine out from beneath the heavy mass of clouds, Rude left the Shinra Building with Tseng, both of them dressed in crisp black suits. They walked toward a Shinra motorcar parked nearby.
Tseng took the driver’s seat and inserted the key into the ignition. The car roared out into the streets of the Sector Four plate.
“Nice of the company to loan us these cars for the procession,” Rude said.
“Well, President Shinra was always preoccupied with showing off the Company’s technology. For him, a funeral procession with Shinra motorcars looks better—and says more about him—than one with, say, chocobos.”
“That’s true,” Rude glanced out his side window. The streets were bustling with people, many of them onlookers on their way to the same church where the Turks were heading. “By the way, have you heard anything about Aeris since AVALANCHE’s latest escape?”
“Nothing. Scarlet’s pissed about the loss of the Motor Ball, to say the least.”
“Are you worried about her?”
“Who, Aeris?”
“Yes.”
Tseng didn’t answer right away. After a brief pause, he said, “A little. Maybe not as much as I ought to be, but enough so that I don’t stop wondering about her. That’s part of the reason why I’m looking forward to this next mission; I’m hoping we’ll run into her while we’re tracking Sephiroth.”
“Speaking of the next mission,” Rude put in, “you still haven’t told me who Reno’s replacement is.”
“Fair enough. It’s Elena Terry.”
Rude sharply drew in a breath upon hearing that name. For some reason, he honestly didn’t believe she’d make the cut, though he secretly wished that she somehow would. He looked at Tseng, who himself turned an eye away from the traffic for a moment to give his subordinate one of his rare genuine smiles.
“I thought you’d be pleased to hear that.”
Rude cleared his throat. “What makes you say that? And what about you?”
Tseng once again focused on the traffic, his countenance businesslike once more. “She’s the most qualified candidate for the job. That’s why I’m hiring her. Realize that both you and her have to put your respective feelings aside in order to do your job.”
“I’m well aware of that, but what I want to know is if you’re capable of doing the same, what with Aeris gone and Rufus the new President.”
A new expression formed on Tseng’s face. Rude recognized it as his most dangerous one; the one he would wear right before killing a man in cold blood. They drove on in silence, and Tseng’s hardened look eventually toned down. As they pulled up to the front of the church, Rude asked, “So when’s the initiation?”
“Tonight, seeing as how we must leave Midgar early tomorrow morning. By the way, I’m sorry for my reaction back there. Your observation was a fair one… As your leader, I should set an example.”
Rude nodded, not saying another word.

After the main ceremony, the public procession through the upper sectors, and the private burial service at Shinra’s military cemetery near the coastline, Tseng and Rude drove back into Midgar. They made a brief stop at the Shinra Building to change back into their Turk uniforms and pick up some supplies, then took the train into Sector Two and entered Elena’s apartment building.
“Do you think she’ll be home?” Rude asked as they got off the elevator.
“Well, we’re about to find out.”
Tseng knocked on the door. After two rounds of knocking, it finally swung open. On the other side stood Elena in a t-shirt and sweatpants, a towel draped around her neck. Her hair was dripping wet, and her eyes were wide.
“Oh! Tseng, sir. What brings you here?”
“Official business. May we come in?”
“Yes, yes of course.”
Tseng walked past Elena and into her living room. Rude nodded a hello to Elena, and she politely returned the nod before turning her attention back to Tseng. Rude pretended not to notice as he walked into the apartment, clutching onto the small suitcase he held in his right hand. He set it on the floor and sat down on the couch, next to Tseng. After closing her door, Elena came into the room and stood before them.
“C—can I get you guys anything?”
“No thank you,” Tseng replied. “Please sit down.”
Elena promptly sat in an adjacent armchair.
“Now, I know you are aware of many of the problems which have befallen the Shinra Corporation as of late, the most recent being the President’s assassination. Did you see the procession?”
“Yes,” Elena replied. “I was able to see it.”
Tseng nodded. “The new President, Rufus Shinra, has charged us Turks with a very important mission. However, the nature of this job is such that it requires three Turks, not two. Our associate Reno, as you are well aware, is still recovering from his injuries.”
Elena said nothing, but Rude could sense the anticipation in her silence.
Tseng continued, “As you may or may not be aware, the ways of the Turks are to have no more than three active at any given time. Since Reno is currently unable to work, I would like to promote you, Elena Terry, to the title of Turk, provided that you accept all of the rights and responsibilities that come with this title. However, please be aware that we may pull you from service at any time, especially once Reno recovers.”
Despite these cautionary words, Elena grinned from ear to ear. Rude looked over at Tseng, who maintained his stoic expression. He wasn’t entirely sure if this decision of Tseng’s was right, but if not, there was no turning back now.
After a moment’s elation, Elena settled back down and faced Tseng. “I accept.”
“Are you certain? I highly recommend that you think this over some more.”
“Yes, I’m absolutely sure. There’s nothing else that I ever wanted so badly in my life than to be accepted into the Turks.”
Rude frowned. I could think of a few things…
“Very well,” Tseng said as he stood up. “Let us commence with the initiation.”
“I—initiation?”
“Of course. It’s a little ritual, required of all inductees, which is specifically designed to ensure loyalty and fellowship among Turks.”
“All right…”
Tseng nodded to Rude; the latter drew the suitcase in front of him and opened it, pulling out two small knives. He removed the sheath from one of them, revealing an opaque blade made of green materia. Tseng unsheathed the other knife, which also had a green materia blade, and addressed Elena.
“According to tradition, a Turk initiate receives two scars from the current Turks, in order to bind them into the brotherhood– or siblinghood, in this case. Where these scars are placed depends on the location and date of birth of the initiate.”
“So those scars below Reno’s eyes… they’re from his initiation?”
“Yes. Mine are just below my clavicles. Rude’s are by his ankles.”
“Where will mine be?”
“Well, going by the biographical information I have gathered from your files, and in line with our procedures, Rude and I will place the scars on your lower back.”
Rude tried not to let the blood rush to his face, and could see Elena was having the same dilemma. They happened to glance at each other at the same time, and she smiled nervously at him. Rude quickly diverted his eyes from behind his dark shades.
“Now,” Tseng continued, “let me tell you about these knives. One of them has a blade made from mastered destruct materia, which, as you may know, is capable of casting Death upon its target. The other blade consists of mastered revive materia, which, of course, has the opposite effect. As you can see, these two blades look exactly alike. There is no way to tell who is holding which blade until we actually use them. The Knives of Eternity and Mortality, as they have been called, represent the strength of the bond between Turks. When we use these knives to cut your scars, we will be doing so simultaneously, so the effects of each other’s spells will cancel out. A mantra of the Turks is that we live and die simultaneously. We must accept this concept as a condition of our status as Turks, and keep it in mind at all times, whether we are helping others or hurting them. That is the meaning behind the initiation. Elena, are you ready?”
Elena nodded solemnly.
“Very well. We’ll need you to lay down on the floor.”
Rude moved some of Elena’s furniture out of the way and stood off to the side. Elena kneeled on the floor and looked up at Tseng quizzically.
“Shouldn’t we put something down first, like a towel?”
“No, since there won’t be much bleeding.”
“Oh,” Elena replied as she nervously lay down, face first. “All right.”
Tseng looked at Rude and nodded. They kneeled on either side of Elena and glanced at her. Tseng leaned over and whispered, “Are you going to be all right? I know you’ve never performed the initiation from this side, as a Turk.”
“I’ll be fine,” Rude answered. “I remember everything you showed me yesterday.”
“All right. I’m counting on you.”
Rude nodded. He knew the potential risks of screwing this up, which included accidentally killing the initiate with a poorly-timed cut from the Knife of Mortality, but he put all such thoughts away as Tseng lifted up Elena’s shirt, exposing her back.
“So where do they go?” Rude murmured.
Tseng seemed to examine her lightly freckled skin as though the small brown dots were legible text. “A little lower,” he concluded, pulling the waistband of Elena’s sweatpants down to the small of her back. Elena lay rigid on the floor.
“Breathe normally,” Rude told her, in the most reassuring tone he could muster. Elena took a few deep breaths and noticably relaxed.
Tseng licked the tip of his index finger and, with his fingernail, lightly scratched two symmetrical, slightly bent lines on either side of Elena’s spine. He looked up at Rude.
“Are you ready?”
Rude took the knife in his hand and held it over the top of the line he was to cut. “Yes.”
Tseng nodded and picked up his own knife. “On the count of three. One… two… three.”
Rude and Tseng plunged the knives into the marks the latter had made on Elena’s back, pulling them down and across at a steady, even rate. Small gasps could be heard coming from Elena as the wounds opened; a black, festering scar on Tseng’s side, and a white, sizzling scar on Rude’s. So, Rude thought. I have the Knife of Eternity. He recalled his own initiation as he and Tseng sealed the scars; the indescribable pain, coupled with an equally indescribable vigor, he had felt when his own scars were cut in. It was the strangest, and also the most life-affirming, experience he had ever had.
Tseng and Rude finished off Elena’s branding by touching their blades to the others’ fresh incisions. The black mass in Tseng’s cut faded to a solid, fleshy red as Rude’s blade made contact; likewise with the hot white lava that had bubbled up from Rude’s mark. The two Turks stood up and sheathed the blades, then they looked down upon newest comrade.
“It is over, Elena, and your marks have begun healing,” Tseng said. “You may get up now if you wish.”
Elena continued to lay prone for a moment, then slowly edged up on her knees, followed by her feet. She smoothed her shirt down and shook her head as if trying to recover from vertigo.
“Wow,” she gasped. “That was unbelievable…”
Tseng glanced over to Rude, and they shared a smile before turning their attentions back to Elena.
“Elena Terry,” Tseng said, “welcome to the Turks.”

*****

Elena was too excited to do anything the rest of that night. She stared at the uniform Tseng and Rude had left her, along with a week’s supply of shirts and socks, gloves, shoes, a bulletproof vest, a pistol, spare ammunition, and a shoulder holster. Her first mission was tomorrow morning; she was to accompany Tseng and Rude to the Kalm area, where President Shinra’s alleged killer—the long-missing Sephiroth—was last seen. Even though she had to be up early that next morning, she just knew that she wouldn’t be able to get any sleep. Adventure was just on the horizon, and she was going to face it as a fully-fledged Turk.
Just then, Elena heard the elevator doors opening, followed by some footsteps and a jangling of keys. She immediately recognized these sounds as the distinct trademarks of Reeve, and ran out into the hallway to greet him. Stopping right in front of him as he found the key that opened his apartment door, she held her arms behind her back and said hello.
“Oh, hey Elena.” She was at once struck by the weary expression on his face; then she remembered the funeral.
“I’m sorry for rushing out here like this! I’m sure you must have a lot on your mind right now,” Elena said sheepishly. “Thing is, I had to tell you about what happened today.”
“I heard,” Reeve said with a smirk. “So you’re a Turk now, huh?”
“Sure am!”
Reeve leaned over and, before she could do anything about it, gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Elena was taken aback; her eyes widened and her cheeks grew warm.
“Congratulations, Elena. Wish I could take you out to celebrate, but I really need some sleep, and I’m sure you do as well. Good luck on your mission tomorrow.”
Without looking back at Reeve, she quietly replied with a “Thanks”, and retreated to her own apartment. She shut her door, then walked over to the living room window and gazed out at the bright lights of Midgar. Perhaps getting out of the city for awhile with Tseng and Rude would be good for her; besides giving her a chance to get to know her fellow Turks a bit better, the fresh air might help to clear her troubled mind.

Guitarrista mais rápido do mundo é Brasileiro

O___O

Isso mesmo que vocês veem na imagem, o cara vaiatés 320 bpm. ._.

Esse camarada tá no guiness. ê_e

Agora simplesmente vejam o vídeo. .-.

Loveless: Ato 1 – Cena 7

Act I: The Ruby Dragon

Scene Seven

Reno stared at the blank wall in front of him, bored out of his mind; he was tired, but not enough to fall asleep. His eyes gravitated toward the clock. It was only a quarter past seven. With a sigh, he shifted his head around, causing his neck to crack out of its stiffness.
A soft knock came at the door. “Yeah?” replied Reno.
The door opened and Reeve poked his head into the room. “Thought you might’ve been asleep. May I come in?”
“Sure.”
Reeve promptly entered the room and closed the door behind him. He walked over and sat in the same chair he had occupied that afternoon. Reno turned his head to face him, eyelids heavy with exhaustion.
“How are you doing?” Reeve asked. “Not in too much pain, I hope.”
“Nah, ‘cept that the stitches are still a little itchy. But enough about me—you just coming back from work?”
Reeve nodded. “We had a meeting about Sector Seven. It didn’t exactly go the way I would’ve liked it to.”
Reno examined Reeve’s face. Since Reno had last seen him earlier that day, Reeve had been in a state of numbness. Apparently, it hadn’t completely worn off yet.
“What happened at the meeting?” Reno inquired.
“For starters, Shinra isn’t going to rebuild Sector Seven.”
“Why not? Would it be too expensive?”
Reeve chuckled ruefully and shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Now that the Company finally has the Ancient back in their custody, they’re restarting the Neo-Midgar project.”
Reno’s eyebrows raised for a moment as he processed Reeve’s words. “They’re going to go out looking for the Promised Land?”
“Yes. Of course, provided that they actually find it, it’ll be a great opportunity for me and my department. They’re even raising the mako rates to help fund the project.”
“How much?”
“Fifteen percent.”
“Oy, that’s a bit steep.”
“Tell me about it. I tried to argue against the rate hike, but President Shinra simply ignored me. I pretty much gave up after that.”
Silence filled the room. Reno lowered his eyes. “Look, I’m sorry about the plate,” he said, echoing words that he said to Reeve that afternoon.
“It’s not your fault,” Reeve said, waving it off. “You were just doing your job.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean that I had to like it. You think Tseng liked the mission he had today?”
“Heh, not one bit.”
“You know, most of the time I don’t mind my work, but then there’s days like today where being a Turk just plain sucks.”
Reeve nodded. “I think I know what you mean.”
“I don’t know, man. At least you execs get a great deal of power and influence. We Turks don’t have any, not where it counts, anyway.”
“I have power and influence? With the way things have been going today, I’m starting to doubt that…”
Reno shrugged. Reeve stared at the Turk’s bandages.
“Listen,” the executive said. “I’m going to take a short vacation. With everything that’s been going on, I need to get out of the city for awhile.”
“Yeah, you look really beat. When was the last time you took a few days off?”
“About a year ago.”
Reno froze, staring at his friend. Reeve’s expression didn’t change, nor did his eyes divert from the bandages.
“I’d like to visit Costa del Sol this time,” continued Reeve.
“Going by yourself?”
“I was planning on it.”
“Gonna visit your buddy Kramler?”
“Probably. Which reminds me, I got a call from him today.”
“Oh yeah? What’s he up to?”
Reeve leaned in close to Reno’s ear. “Some of his in-laws found the guy who snitched me out to Scarlet.”
“Glad to hear it. So what happens now?”
“Not sure yet… we’ll see,” Reeve answered as he got up from his chair. “I should get going. Tomorrow’s my last full day of work before I leave and I need to start packing. I’ll try to drop by sometime tomorrow.”
Reno nodded and watched his friend as he walked toward the door. “Okay. Oh, and one last thing…”
“Yeah?”
“How’d your lunch with Elena go?”
Reno said this very straightforwardly, trying to make it seem nothing more than a harmless question. Still, there must have been some accusatory tone in his voice that he hadn’t intended, one that Reeve happened to notice, because then the executive averted his gaze from him.
“She tell you about it?”
“Called me from work a few hours ago.”
“What did she say?”
“She didn’t know how to take your advances. You know, the whole playing footsie thing.”
Reeve turned to face Reno once more. “She wanted your advice?”
“I told her I had none to give her.”
“I see. Listen, Reno. I have to tell you something… some advice of my own, if you will.”
“What, to stay out of your business?”
Reeve scratched his head. “Exactly.”
“All right. I’ll leave you alone.”
“Hey Reno,” Reeve muttered.
“What?”
The executive’s dark brown eyes flitted away again. “Nothing. Just… take care of yourself, all right? I have to go.”
Confused, Reno replied, “Okay. Good night, Reeve.”
“Good night, Reno.”

Only about an hour after Reeve had left, Reno was startled by another knock at his door. “Come in,” Reno called.
Tseng strode into the room, closing the door behind him as swiftly and silently as he had opened it. “Hello, Reno. I trust you’re doing well?”
“For the most part. The stitches are still itchy as hell.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tseng said as he walked up to the side of the bed opposite of the one where Reeve had been.
As he had done before with Reeve, Reno quickly changed the subject. “So, anything new and exciting happen at the Shinra Building?”
“The surviving members of AVALANCHE came to rescue Aeris,” Tseng reported, quietly adding, “as I thought they would.”
“So what happened? Did they get away?”
“No. Rude and I were ordered to stop them. All of them, including a lab specimen which lent its assistance, are now imprisoned on the 67th floor.”
Reno’s face drained of all its color. He motioned for Tseng to lean in closer, which the head Turk did.
“They were your only hope as far as freeing Aeris goes, right?”
“Yes, they were. Rude and I are meeting later tonight to discuss what we should do.”
“Wish I could help out.”
“I know, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Unfortunately, we have little control over circumstances the way they are now.”
“You aren’t just talking about my injury, are you Tseng.”
The head Turk shook his head and smiled. “Is it that obvious?”
Reno managed a smirk. “It was just in the way you phrased it, that’s all.”
“I’ve taught you well, Reno. You’ll make a fine head Turk when the time comes.”
“Heh, when would that be?” Reno replied, still smirking. “We both know it’ll be a long time before that happens!”
Tseng simply returned the smirk, not saying another word.

*****

A few minutes past midnight, Zack crept out of the Shinra Building’s main fire escape stairwell into the 59th floor lobby. He moved amidst the shadows toward the elevators for the upper levels, being careful not to set off the motion-detectors of the various Shinra mecha that patrolled this floor. As he entered an elevator, he took out a keycard that he had happened to find in the stairwell and swiped it through the elevator controls’ card reader. The device identified the card, authorizing Zack to take the elevator as far as the 69th floor. On a screen just above the card reader, a description of the chosen floor scrolled on.
“The lower lobby of the President’s office, huh? Might as well start there and work my way down. I’m sure I’ll find out where Aeris is eventually.”
He pressed the button for the 69th floor.

After he made a thorough search of the 69th and 68th floors, Zack took the stairs down to the 67th. Upon leaving the stairwell, he looked around, surprised at what he saw. This floor was more dimly-lit than the others, and overhead, he could see exposed pipes and wiring. Much to his surprise, a familiar voice whispered in his ear, louder than ever.
“Turn right, and walk down this corridor.”
“You!” Zack whispered. “But how are you speaking to me? There’s no wind in here!”
“Never mind that. Just do as I say.”
Zack sighed and followed the directions, soon finding himself at one end of a long hallway. At the other end stood a lone MP.
“At the end of this hall are a number of cells. You will find your friend there… but first, you will need to take care of the guard.”
“Agreed. What do you suggest?”
“Go into that room just up ahead, to your right.”
Zack sneaked further down the corridor and inside the room. It was the Sample Maintenance office, and it was currently unoccupied. From the neighboring storage area, low hissing sounds and the rattling of cage bars could be heard. Zack grinned.
“I get it. We unleash the lab’s specimens on the guards, then slip down there home free.”
The voice didn’t reply as Zack fiddled with the computers, in an attempt to unlock the cages. He succeeded, and soon, many genetically-mutated monsters were roaming about the floor, preying on the 67th floor’s unsuspecting workers. After waiting a few minutes, Zack walked out into the main corridor again, back toward the hallway that led to the cells. He passed the freshly-killed guard and examined the set of doors in front of him. There were small slits near the top of each door. Zack peered through the first one and gasped.
There she was, sound asleep; his girl Aeris.
Suddenly, he felt himself pushed up against the opposite wall by an invisible force.
“I have found her for you… but, dear boy, you have yet to fulfill your end of the bargain.”
“You know, you’ve never told me exactly what this deal entails.”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Now, take the keycards from the guard.”
Zack picked up the guard’s keyring and walked back toward the cell doors. He was startled when his feet carried him, not to Aeris’ cell, but to the one next to it. With the quick glance through the slit that had been afforded him, he was able to see an attractive young woman sleeping on the bunk; opposite of her was a guy with spiky blond hair fast asleep on the floor. Zack recognized the latter immediately.
“Cloud!” he whispered.
Controlled by the unknown force, Zack pushed one of the guard’s keycards into the electronic lock on Cloud’s door and swiped downward. There was a low electronic hum as the door swished open. The keycard was pulled out again, and the keyring placed back onto the dead guard’s belt. Zack’s mind overflowed with angry thoughts as the voice told him, “Come to the storage area. Don’t worry about your friends…”
The deadpan voice reverberated in his mind as his feet—which were no longer his own—walked toward the storage area.
“After I see what this is all about, I’m coming back here.”
“If you so will it…”

Zack walked back down the hallway and to the right, past the Sample Maintenance room to where a vast storage area lay. Amidst all of the crates and scientific equipment, there was a large, round containment unit, with numerous pipes emanating from it. Welded into this unit was a solid mythrill door with a steel nameplate that read “JENOVA”. Inexplicably, Zack found himself drawn to this door, especially the small window located just above the nameplate. Peering inside, he could see what appeared to be the headless body of a woman, albeit one who was terribly deformed, with bizarre-looking wings protruding from her back and an eyeball lodged into her right breast. Zack pinched his eyes shut as a terrible stabbing pain penetrated his skull. He fell to his knees, grabbing his head with both hands, the high-pitched sound from before flooding his ears louder than ever. He tried to scream, but nothing came out of his mouth. The only sound he could hear was the beating of his own heart.
“Zack… free me…”
“Wha—what is this thing?” Zack thought to himself. “Have I seen it before?”
“Don’t concern yourself with my identity now. Just free me…”
“You can read minds…” Zack thought again.
“Yes. Now free me, my puppet. I’m growing impatient.”
“Puppet?”
As Zack thought this, a will stronger than his own made him stand up and grip either side of the door with his hands, pulling at the hinges and locks.
“What are you doing to me?”
“I need you. More specifically, I need your body.”
“Listen, I have no time to deal with headless perverted freaks!”
The voice, who he now recognized as the thoughts of this “Jenova”, explained, “Your physical being is no longer your own, ever since Hojo made you a part of me. As you can clearly see, you are my slave, created to do my bidding.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Zack fumed as his arms yanked the door off of the containment unit. Inside, Jenova floated limply in a smelly gelatinous substance. Zack picked up the strange body, pulling it loose of the various tubes and cords that were connected to it. From these reopened orifices, blood began to drip out.
Dragging Jenova behind his back, Zack started walking toward the freight elevator. Just then, from directly behind him, he heard a man’s voice.
“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded. “You’re the one who let the Zenenes and Vargids loose, aren’t you?”
Zack, his body completely under Jenova’s control, whirled around to face the man, a grey-suited lab assistant who was busy entering a security code into his PHS. Zack rushed toward the man and punched him hard in the chest. His fist came out through the other side, splattered with blood and pieces of flesh and bone. In his mind, Zack was completely horrified. Ignoring Zack’s reaction, Jenova directed, “Now, to the freight elevator. We haven’t much time…”

Much to Zack’s dismay, he killed numerous people on his way back up to the 69th floor. Executive assistants and receptionists fell like flies as Jenova guided her puppet through the upper floors. Finally, after the last employee collapsed, Zack’s head swiveled to a display case shadowed by one of the massive staircases that led up to the marble-floored office of President Shinra. Walking closer, he could see that it contained a long sword, forged in the Wutaiese tradition. Without reading the brass nameplate that accompanied it, Zack knew what the sword was, and whom it once belonged to. It was the Masamune, the legendary blade of Sephiroth, Shinra’s greatest warrior. Zack turned to wondering what had become of Sephiroth, when he felt his fist break through the glass, and his hand clench the sword’s hilt. Sirens immediately started to go off, but with the guidance of Jenova, Zack was able to quickly locate and slice through the alarm system’s wiring.
“My puppet, you are probably wondering what this is all about. This sword, which I have just given to you, is only a part of the answer.”
“How do you have any right to give me this sword? It doesn’t belong to you, it belongs to Sephiroth!”
“Yes… yes it does. Sephiroth, the greatest, most powerful slave to my manifest destiny. Come, let us assume a new identity…”
A bright light surrounded Zack and Jenova. Zack felt a searing heat in his back, as though something was melding into his body. When the light subsided, he felt the weight of Jenova gone, and in its place, an unbelievable strength. His feet began ascending the stairs.
“Jenova, where are we going?”
Jenova didn’t answer. Even though he could no longer feel her physical weight on his back, he felt that somehow she was still with him. His swiftly moving feet, dashing toward President Shinra’s desk, were proof of that.
“No, Jenova… you can’t make me…” thought Zack as he realized what her plans were. “I won’t—”
Unfortunately, his defiance was to be in vain. Zack leapt high into the air, landing on top of the President’s desk. A fat executive in a brown suit started running for the nearest exit, pulling out his PHS as he did so. Zack pointed the Masamune toward the fat man and said, in a voice that wasn’t his, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The executive whimpered and edged closer to the desk, finally choosing to hide behind a pillar.
President Shinra spoke. “What is the meaning of this? You disappeared five years ago and have finally returned only to barge in here like some crazed maniac! What’s gotten into you?”
Zack bent down and held the sharp edge of the blade to the President’s neck. “You want the Promised Land… and I can’t have that. I will do everything in my power to keep it out of your hands.” He pulled the sword away and leapt off of the President’s desk; in his mind, he was feeling utterly confused by the goings-on.
“Sorry, but I’ve committed my resources to finding the Promised Land and establishing Neo-Midgar. You honestly don’t think that you…”
President Shinra trailed off as Zack walked around the desk, behind the President’s chair, and jumped up into the air. He kicked the President’s head forward, then plunged the Masamune sword deep into his back, which is where he held it. Looking over to the terrified brown-suited executive, he smiled wickedly and pulled something loose from the sword. He couldn’t see it… but he could feel it.
“What’s happening to the sword?”
“We are leaving the physical form of the Masamune with Shinra, but the sword’s spirit will need to come with us. That is what you pulled out of the Masamune. Now, we must leave. The Reunion will begin soon… and it will not benefit us to stay any longer.”
“You’ve mentioned this ‘Reunion’ earlier… What is it?”
“You will find out before long, puppet. Now, to the roof.”
Zack walked out to the rooftop patio. He wasn’t sure what Jenova was up to, but it was undoubtedly evil… and he was entirely helpless to stop it. As he walked over to a parked helicopter, he happened to turn and glance at his reflection in the plate glass window. What he saw took him completely by surprise. He had long silver hair, eyes turquoise like Junon’s Dolphin Bay, and incredibly taut and sculpted muscles. The black outfit that he now wore was all too familiar.
“I’m… Sephiroth?“
Jenova didn’t reply, but in her silence was all that he needed to know.

Loveless: Ato 1 – Cena 6

Act I: The Ruby Dragon

Scene Six

The little Cait Sith prototype sat in the empty hot tub in the Lover’s Room of the Honeybee Inn, not paying much attention to its elderly roommates. They were the grandparents of some Shinra department manager who had apparently deluded them into thinking that the Inn was a high-class hotel. Keeping to themselves, the old couple didn’t think anything of the toy’s presence; they just accepted it as one of the quirkier aspects of the room’s decor.
Suddenly, the dim yellow light that streamed through the keyhole was cut off. The toy’s optical lenses zoomed in at the keyhole and saw an eye on the other side. It was a stern, serious-looking eye, with a blue iris tinged with mako green. The prototype started bouncing in place to get a better look from over the side of the hot tub.
A few miles away, in a nondescript apartment building on the Sector Five plate, Tseng sat at his home computer, examining the stills he had captured with the prototype’s camera. After using an iris identification program to compare these images to the security camera stills of Cloud, he found that the eyes matched. For some reason, Cloud was in the Honeybee Inn and had happened to take a peek inside this room. Tseng keyed in the command that turned off the Cait Sith prototype, then shut down his computer. He started walking toward the front door, picking up his coat from the back of the couch along the way. He sighed as he left his apartment; finally, it was time for him to carry out his assigned mission. Having spied on Aeris’ home earlier that night, he happened to see Cloud’s silhouette in one of the windows. Knowing Aeris, he thought, she took him in for the night because she didn’t want him traveling home by himself. Tseng glanced at his watch. It was 1:32 AM. It looked like Cloud had sneaked out.
Tseng took the train down to the Sector Six slums, watchful for the rogue SOLDIER. He had to establish that Cloud was alone before continuing on to Aeris’ house. Then, he spotted Cloud coming out of the materia shop and hid between two nearby shacks. As Cloud passed, Tseng noticed that the blond’s face was made up with lipstick, mascara, and eye shadow, but what was even more shocking was seeing Aeris following him from behind, quietly chuckling to herself.
“Damn,” Tseng exclaimed under his breath. In order to bring Aeris to Hojo, he had to get that spiky-haired kid out of the way. But how? Tseng decided to trail them and wait for an opportunity.

A few hours later, Tseng had wandered into Sector Seven, having lost Cloud’s trail once he and Aeris entered Don Corneo’s mansion. Doubtless they’d learn there what would happen to the plate, and would come to this sector to warn everyone. The streets were quiet and dark, save for the soft neon glow of the sign over the Seventh Heaven bar. At first surprised that even a place like this was open so late, Tseng walked inside and sat at a table. The only other person in the room was a girl with light brown hair, who was standing behind the counter. She paused in her work upon seeing the lone customer. After a moment, she approached Tseng’s table carrying a small pad of paper and a pen and asked, “Can I get you anything?”
“Coffee.”
“Sir, I’m afraid we don’t serve—”
Tseng looked her straight in the eye, giving her his best murderous glare. “Coffee.“
“…Cream, milk, sugar?”
“Black.”
Tseng rested an elbow on the table and followed her with narrowed eyes, well aware of whom she was: Jessie Kaufman, former Shinra technician turned terrorist bomb builder. So, he wondered, is this AVALANCHE’s hideout? Suddenly, as if on cue, the bar’s pinball machine descended into the floor. Tseng raised an eyebrow and looked over to Jessie, who had anxiety written all over her face. A large black man with a gun-arm and two others popped up from the hole in the floor where the pinball machine used to be. Just as the black man began to speak, Jessie pointed out the Turk.
“Just got a call from Tifa, we gotta head out to—What th’—Shinra!“
Tseng’s face remained stoic. “Barret Wallace, I presume?”
“How do you—”
“Know your name? It’s simple, really. Just did a bit of research once I’d gotten security images of you and your AVALANCHE friends, including Biggs, Wedge, and Jessie, here. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find any records of the others—Cloud and that girl with the dark hair.”
Barret clenched his hand into a fist and shook it at the Turk. “I just found out what you Shinra got planned, and we’re gonna put a stop to it!”
“Is that so. Well, I suppose I should let you all go, though your efforts will be in vain.”
“Why you goddamn motherfuckin’…”
Tseng looked pointedly at his watch and smiled. “You’re running out of time. My associate Reno should already be at the top of the pillar.”
Barret looked toward the door, then Tseng, then back at the door. “Shit. We gotta go.” He fired a few rounds from his gun-arm at Tseng’s feet. “You get the hell outta here. Now!”
Tseng deftly jumped out of the bullets’ way, his lips twisting up into a snide curl. “As you wish.” He strode over to the saloon doors and pushed them open, calmly walking out into the streets as Barret and his friends raced past him, toward the Sector Seven pillar.

As Tseng left Sector Seven, he glanced at his watch; if all went according to plan, the charge would go off at 7 AM, a little less than two hours from then. He returned to Sector Six and idled in the playground to kill time. Just as he was about to leave, Aeris walked out from the Sector Seven entrance, struggling with a sleeping toddler in her arms. Tseng strode up to her.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
Bowing her head, she said nothing and continued walking.
“Aeris, what’s going on?”
“You know about it, don’t you,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. “The plate…”
Tseng shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yes… I know. Who’s this child?”
“A friend’s daughter.”
“Here, let me help you with her,” he said, taking the little girl from Aeris.
“Thanks Tseng.”
Tseng felt a sharp pang in his chest upon seeing Aeris’ grateful smile. Turning away from his friend, he started to walk toward Wall Market. “Hojo knew I couldn’t catch you. I just hope that this girl will be a suitable substitute.”
“What?“
He swiveled back to face Aeris. “I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be. Either you come with me to the lab, or I take this girl in your place.” Quietly, he added, “I wasn’t given much of a choice… I must not fail this time.”
Aeris nodded solemnly. “All right. I’ll go with you. But first, I promised that I’d take Marlene somewhere safe.”
“We can leave her with your mother, just as long as you come with me to the lab. Agreed?”
Aeris hesitated. “He… Hojo isn’t going to do anything to me, will he?”
Tseng whispered. “I’ll do my best to see to it that he doesn’t. Now let’s get going. We’re short on time as it is.”

Tseng and Aeris returned to Sector Seven a little while later, after leaving Marlene with Elmyra, Aeris’ foster mother. They heard the sound of gunfire reverberating from up above as they reached Reno’s helicopter, which was parked just outside the fence surrounding the Sector Seven pillar. Tseng climbed into the pilot’s seat, telling Aeris to get in. Without another word, she did so, and the helicopter took off.
As it was rising, Tseng spotted Reno jumping over the side of the railing of the pillar’s uppermost platform, only to catch on to the staircase railing with one arm, over which he unsuccessfully struggled to pull himself. Tseng maneuvered the helicopter toward his second-in-command and called out to him.
“Get in, or you won’t make it out of this sector in time!”
Reno grunted an affirmative and leaped onto the small metal platform that was attached to the side of the helicopter. He struggled to stand, yelling over the whirring blades, “What the hell’d you go and take my chopper for?”
Tseng yelled back, “Just get in here! I want you to pilot this thing!”
Reno started moving toward the cockpit door. It was then that Tseng noticed for the first time that Reno was clutching one side of his body, where his coat was stained dark with blood. “Tseng, I don’t know if I can…”
“It will only be for a minute. There’s something I need to do.”
Reno nodded and climbed into the pilot’s seat. Tseng moved out onto the helicopter’s platform, dragging Aeris along with him. Still putting pressure on his wound with one hand, Reno pulled the collective stick with the other and the chopper ascended. He stopped it when it was just above the pillar’s uppermost platform, leaving it to hover. Tseng looked down on the AVALANCHE members who had fought Reno. He quickly thought up a brief speech, secretly hoping that it would motivate them to do the one thing he was no longer able to do: save Aeris from Hojo.

Tseng watched the angered and stunned looks on the AVALANCHE members’ faces as the helicopter flew off toward the outermost edge of Sector Seven. He smiled thinly as he escorted Aeris inside the chopper.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll come to rescue you.”
“Is that why you presented me to them as a hostage?”
“Ahh, you know me too well.”
As the helicopter left the sector, Tseng could hear the sound of an explosion, followed by creaking metal above them; sitting in the back seat next to him, Aeris’ skin had paled, and she wore a blank expression on her face. As they came out from under the plate’s shadow, shortly before it fell to the ground in an ear-splitting boom, Reno’s wavering voice broke in from the cockpit. “Excuse me Tseng, when are you gonna take over the piloting? That kid Cloud cut me pretty deeply.”
“Land over there,” Tseng said, pointing to a bare, rocky plain just outside of Midgar, “and I’ll take a look at you.”
Reno did as Tseng instructed, enabling him to take his left hand off of the controls to join his bloodstained right, still clutching his wounded side. Tseng went outside and opened the pilot’s door, activating a Cure Materia slotted onto his Dragon Armlet. He gently pulled Reno’s hands away, then placed his own, glowing with green curative magic, over Reno’s wound. The redheaded Turk closed his eyes and relaxed his muscles, taking deep, slow breaths as the bleeding stopped. However, once the spell’s effects had ended, Reno howled and gripped his side even tighter than before. His blood resumed its slow trickle from between his fingers.
“Oh goddamn it, it hurts!“
“I know, I know…” Tseng said, his forehead breaking out into a sweat. “I’m doing the best I can. It’s a pretty bad gash…”
“Maybe Aeris can help?”
“I’d rather she didn’t. If any evidence of her particular healing magic is found on you—”
At that moment, Tseng noticed Aeris out of the corner of his eye. She was standing next to the helicopter with her arms at her sides, eyes fixed upon the huge dust cloud where Sector Seven once was. Reno twisted his head to get a look at the city himself, joining Aeris in her silent staring; likewise, Tseng followed their lead. After several minutes had passed, Tseng broke his gaze from the ruined sector and motioned to Reno that he should climb out of the pilot’s seat.
“We have to get back, and more importantly, get you to the military hospital.”
Reno nodded and carefully climbed into the back seat, where he was soon joined by Aeris. Doing his best to ignore the small puddle of blood that had collected onto the pilot’s seat, Tseng took the controls and lifted off, guiding the helicopter back toward Midgar.
After placing a quick call to the hospital, he heard Reno ask Aeris, “When Tseng gave his whole spiel to AVALANCHE… he didn’t really slap you, did he?”
“Yes, but it was very slight. He just made it look worse than it actually was.”
“A stage combat technique I learned a long time ago,” Tseng cut in, “back when I was studying acting.”
“Oh… that’s cool… never knew that you were an actor,” Reno replied, his voice growing heavier. “Hey man… I think I’m gonna pass out.”
Tseng tried to keep focused on his driving, pushing back all thoughts of what would happen to Aeris if AVALANCHE hadn’t escaped from Sector Seven in time, and fighting the urge to look into the back seat to make sure that Reno didn’t die on him. As Shinra’s military hospital came into view, Tseng guided the helicopter toward the rooftop’s landing platform, where a stretcher and a team of paramedics were waiting for them.

*****

It was Reeve who had told her about Reno’s injury. He was calling from the hospital, having rushed there since receiving the news from Tseng. She replied that she’d stop by in a few minutes, after wrapping up her report for Heidegger.
Elena walked out of the Shinra Building and toward the military hospital, which was only a few blocks away in Sector Four. The receptionist gave her directions to the room, adding that Reno had just gotten out of surgery only a couple of hours ago. Tseng, sitting in a chair across from Reno’s bed, gave her a welcoming nod as she came into the room. Rude leaned against the wall next to the bed, and Reeve was busy staring out the window. Both men turned and said hello.
She returned their greetings and looked at the pale figure of Reno in the hospital bed. An IV was connected to one arm, and his torso was wrapped in bloodstained bandages. He opened his eyes partway as she came to the side of his bed.
“Hey Elena… glad you could make it.”
Her eyes wide with shock and worry, she replied, “Are you all right? What happened?”
“Looks pretty bad, eh? It’s a wound from a Buster sword, courtesy of that renegade SOLDIER who’s in AVALANCHE.”
Tseng explained, “Reno was on a top-secret mission and ran into some trouble with them.”
Elena nodded. “Did it have anything to do with the Sector Seven plate? I heard that AVALANCHE destroyed the pillar that held it up.”
Reeve turned away from the window to glance at Reno, but didn’t say a word. Reno watched him for a moment, then replied, “Yeah… it had something to do with that. Fortunately I got out in time.”
“Well, as long as you’re going to be all right.”
“I’ll be fine. Just give it a few weeks and this sucker’ll be healed right up.”
“Bet it’ll leave a nasty scar, though.”
Reno’s eyes traveled back to Reeve, who had resumed gazing out of the window. “Yeah, well… doesn’t make much of a difference to me. I already have some old scars in that area.”
“Reno’s a tough one,” Tseng cut in. “I anticipate he’ll be back at work within a month.” Rude nodded in agreement. Reeve shifted his weight to his other foot and let out a tired sigh, not taking his eyes from the window once.
Tseng stood up and addressed the other Turks. “Rude and I should get back to the Shinra building. Reno, I’ll give your proposal some consideration.”
Reno nodded a reply as Elena pondered the meaning behind Tseng’s words. Tseng turned to Elena.
“Will you be coming with us?”
“I think I’ll stick around here a little longer.”
“Are you sure?” Rude asked.
Elena nodded hesitantly, wondering if there was something strange about her staying. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
After a moment, Tseng replied, “Very well. See you around.”
Tseng and Rude left the room. When Elena turned back to face Reno, she was startled to see that Reeve had moved away from the window, and was now in a chair beside Reno’s bed. The two men talked to each other in low tones. Reno’s eyes shifted toward Elena, causing Reeve’s head to do the same. After an awkward moment of silence, Elena said, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?”
Reeve shook his head. “No, not at all. To tell you the truth, I was just about to leave myself. Reno’s been up all night on this AVALANCHE business, and has barely had any sleep.”
Reno confirmed this with a small yawn.
“You should get going as well,” Reeve told Elena.
“I guess so. Still, I can’t help but feel bad for you, Reno. You’re going to be left all alone!”
Reno replied, “Ahh, don’t worry about it. I’ll be all right by myself.”
Reeve stood up and walked toward the door, mouthing some sort of message to Reno as he stood in the doorframe. He then turned to Elena.
“C’mon. We should let Reno get some rest.”
Elena nodded and followed Reeve out of the room. The executive closed the door behind them.

“You hungry at all?”
“A little. I haven’t had lunch yet.”
“Neither have I,” Reeve replied. He and Elena were walking through Sector Four, toward the Shinra Building. “There’s a diner on the next block… haven’t been there in awhile. Would you be up for something like that?”
Elena shrugged. “Sure, sounds fine to me. Is it good?”
“Yes, it’s a nice place. The food is all right—better than what they have in the company cafeteria, anyway.”
They reached the restaurant, Burman’s Diner, a few minutes later. After being seated, Reeve lit himself a cigarette and scanned the menu. Elena turned to her own menu, and after making up her mind as to what she wanted, set it back down, only to notice that Reeve was now staring at her from across the booth with his weary, reddened eyes. She raised her eyebrows.
“Hmm?” Reeve replied.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“I see.” Reeve took a long drag and knocked the resulting ashes into a glass ashtray. “Got a lot on my mind these days…”
“I can imagine.”
“I’m not sure if you can. I’m really stressed out.”
Elena just nodded.
“I mean,” Reeve continued, “it’s bad enough with all this shit happening to Midgar, but now Reno gets hurt, and who knows if AVALANCHE got away again. Maybe President Shinra was right… maybe I do need to take a few days off and get away from this mess, if only to clear my mind a little.”
“Are you going to?”
“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot to do here.” Reeve shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”
At that moment, the waitress came and took their orders. Elena stared out the window at the drab streets.
“Hey, Reeve?” she asked tentatively. “Tseng mentioned something to Reno about a proposal. What was that about?”
The executive smirked at her. “You’re being awfully nosy.”
“I’m just curious!”
Reeve’s expression grew dark as he murmured, “Curiosity can be dangerous.”
“Really.”
“But anyway, the Turks were discussing the possibility of a temporary replacement for Reno while he’s in the hospital. Tseng doesn’t see a real need for it right now, but he said he’d give the idea some consideration regardless.”
Elena broke out into a small smile as she felt the anticipation welling up inside of her. Reeve pressed out the end of his spent cigarette.
“Don’t get too excited. Tseng hasn’t decided anything yet.”
Elena nodded. “That’s true. Is this what you mean by curiosity being dangerous?”
“Sort of. Still, I can’t blame you that you couldn’t help yourself. Like any other being on this planet, you have to harbor at least a little bit of curiosity…”
At that moment, Elena felt one of Reeve’s leather shoes brush up against her foot. She froze. Reeve looked her straight in the eye and continued, his voice having taken on a considerably different tone.
“Curiosity can be dangerous, but depending on the circumstances, it can also be beneficial.” His foot lightly caressed her ankle. He smiled; a little nervously, she thought. “Know what I mean?”
Without a word, Elena stared down at the table for a couple of minutes, mulling over Reeve’s words and actions. Finally, she shifted further into the booth, away from Reeve’s wandering foot. She felt a slight warmth in her cheeks; from embarrassment or something else, she wasn’t sure.
She felt the presence of his foot recede as he took out another cigarette. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“No, no… that’s all right. It wasn’t—” Elena paused.
“It wasn’t what?”
“…Nothing.” She raised her head to face Reeve once more. The kind expression on his face only filled her with more confusion. She found him to be a generally nice guy, but there was something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it had to do with the wedding band on his right ring finger, or the fact that he was about ten years older than her, or something else entirely. All she knew was that there was this tiny little voice in the back of her mind, filled with doubt, and next to it was another, whispering Tseng’s name.

*****

Zack slowly walked toward the massive expanse of Midgar, still feeling a bit disoriented on account of his recent resurrection. He pushed away all thoughts of the mysterious voice who had summoned him and dug into his memories, in an attempt to recall how he got here. He remembered that he was in a coma for a few years, and that once his friend Cloud had awakened, they started planning their escape. They broke out of two large tubes in the Shinra Mansion in Nibelheim, and had managed to get pretty far away. They even made plans to become mercenaries once they arrived in Midgar. However, upon reaching the city’s outskirts, they were attacked by MPs, and Zack was shot. He fell unconscious and somehow, his Buster sword went missing. He had no idea what had become of it, or of Cloud.
But the real question was, why was he in a coma to begin with? He knew that he had been traveling to Nibelheim for some mission, but couldn’t remember any details of the trip. Zack concentrated, digging into his memories even further. He had been stationed in the Midgar region throughout much of the Wutai War. While there, he met a pretty girl named Aeris Gainsborough. He dated her for a while before being promoted to First Class and receiving orders to go to Nibelheim with Commander Sephiroth and a couple of MPs. He remembered the trip on the ferry from Junon, where he befriended one of the MPs, a kid named Cloud who desperately wanted to be accepted into the ranks of SOLDIER. He couldn’t recall a damn thing that happened after that.
There was something about this gap in his memory that troubled him. He was certain that this was not mere amnesia. He felt that he ought to know even the most vague details of what happened in Nibelheim all those years ago, that whatever happened there was something of extreme importance, the kind of experience that one would never forget. So why couldn’t he remember?
Zack stopped mulling over his memories and looked up; he now stood before the Sector Five gate. Digging around in his pocket for his standard-issue gate key, the thought struck him that perhaps these memories were being shielded from him on purpose. Or maybe someone physically took these memories away from him, like they might have taken his Buster sword. He shook his head, realizing how ridiculous this last theory sounded, and unlocked the Sector Five gate.

Midgar had changed a lot from the last time Zack had been here, back when half of the plates and reactors were still under construction. He thought of the tales he and Cloud had heard from various Easterners while they were on the road, about how the metropolis was near completion. Now he was seeing it for himself; with the exception of the urban infrastructure of Sector Six’s Upper Plate, Midgar was now a full circle of eight sectors.
He walked past the old abandoned church, trying to remember the way to Aeris’ house, when the wind picked up and that familiar voice whistled in his ears.
“The one you are looking for… she is not there.”
Trying not to draw attention to himself, Zack whispered back, “Are you sure? I should at least see her mother.”
“There is no time. Besides, I know where she is.”
“And where would that be?”
“Men from Shinra have her held captive. She is in their headquarters.”
Zack was startled by these words. He knew that the Shinra had long been after Aeris, for reasons unknown to him. However, he never thought that they would actually catch her. “What? How?”
“The one named Yoshiro, son of Tseng, who has appropriated his father’s name and inherited his position.”
This was getting to be too much. It was through Aeris that Zack first met Yoshiro, whom she introduced as her oldest friend. He couldn’t believe that Yoshiro would ever betray her, not even if he did become a Turk like his father wished.
“How can I be sure you’re telling the truth?”
The voice on the wind whispered, “I know all, and see all, even in my current state of confinement. Penetrate the headquarters of Shinra and you will find that I do not lie.”
“You’ll guide me to her?”
After a brief pause, the voice answered, “Yes… I will show you the way.”
Zack walked on. By this time, he had reached a densely populated part of the Sector Five slums. As he passed a large drainage pipe, he thought he saw someone sitting inside. Upon walking closer, Zack saw that it was a man, and he was nodding as though he had severe Mako sickness; the pipe appeared to be his home. As Zack’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he examined the man. There was something familiar about him, but Zack couldn’t remember where he’d seen him before. Maybe, he thought cynically, he’s a part of that lost gap in my memory. Zack was about to turn and leave, when he caught a glimpse of the man’s right hand. Tattooed on the back of it was a large Roman numeral II.
Suddenly, Zack felt a sharp stabbing pain strike his skull, while a high-pitched tone filled his ears. He gripped the side of his head and pinched his eyes shut. A blurry vision filled his mind: there was something large… sculptural… pipes… wings…
The vision disappeared as abruptly as the pain did. Zack opened his eyes and scanned the man’s living quarters. He needed to conceal his identity if he was going to sneak into Shinra’s headquarters. He found a roll of black canvas in a pile of junk behind the man’s television and tore off a large sheet with little effort. After wrapping the canvas over his head and shoulders as an impromptu cloak, Zack left the pipe and followed the direction of the wind to Sector Six, where he would find an accessible route to the upper plate, and the Shinra Building.

Garoto Índigo(Interessante)

Em 11 de Janeiro de 1996, uma criança incomum nasceu na cidade de Volzhsky, na região de Volgograd, Rússia. Sua mãe, Nadezhda Kipriyanovich, descreve o trabalho de parto: ‘Foi muito rápido e não senti nenhuma dor. Quando me mostraram o bebê, ele me olhava fixamente com seus grandes olhos castanhos. Como médica, eu sei que não é habitual entre naciturnos esse olhar concentrado. Exceto esse fato ele parecia um bebê normal.’
Quando saiu da maternidade, de volta ao lar, Nadezhda começou a perceber que o menino, chamado Boris, tinha um comportamento singular: raramente chorava e nunca solicitava qualquer alimento. Ele crescia como as outras crianças, mas começou a falar frases inteiras aos oito meses. Com um ano e meio, lia jornais. Os pais deram a ele um jogo de peças para montar figuras e ele começou a elaborar peças geométricas combinando diferentes partes com precisão. ‘Eu tinha a impressão de que nós éramos como aliens para ele, aliens com os quais ele estava tentando se comunicar’ – disse a mãe de Boris ou Boriska, como é chamado pela família.
Boriska começou a desenhar figuras que, à primeira vista, eram abstrações nas quais se misturavam tons de azul e violeta. Quando psicólogos examinaram os desenhos, disseram que o garoto estava, provavelmente, tentando representar a aura das pessoas que via ao seu redor. Aos três anos, Boris começou a conversar com seus pais sobre o Universo. Ele sabia nomear todos os planetas do Sistema Solar e seus respectivos satélites. Ele falava também nomes e número de Galáxias. Isso pareceu assustador e a mãe pensou que seu filho estava fantasiando; por isso, resolveu conferir se aqueles nomes realmente existiam. Consultou livros de astronomia e ficou chocada ao constatar que Boris, de fato, sabia muito sobre aquela ciência.
O menino sofre com o conhecimento prévio de desastres naturais ou sociais: durante a crise do Beslan, recusou-se a ir à escola enquanto durou o ataque. ‘Eu sabia que o caso todo teria um final terrível’ – disse Boriska.

Sobre o futuro do planeta, ele adverte que a Terra passará por duas situações muito perigosas nos anos de 2009 e 2013, com a ocorrência de catástrofes relacionadas à água.

Especialistas dos Instituto de Estudos do Magnetismo Terrestre e Ondas de Rádio da Academia Russa de Ciências (Institute of Earth Magnetism and Radio-waves of the Russian Academy of Sciences) fotografaram a aura de Boriska que mostrou-se forte, nítida de modo incomum. O professor Vladislav Lugovenko analisa: ‘Ele apresenta um espectograma laranja, O que significa que é uma pessoa alegre, positiva, com um intelecto muito poderoso.
Cientistas de todo o mundo têm-se se empenhado na pesquisa desses fenômenos a fim de revelar o mistério destas crianças extraordinárias, como o garoto Boris. Um dado interessante é que nos últimos 20 anos, bebês dotados de habilidades incomuns têm nascido em todos os continentes.

Os especialistas chamam estas crianças de ‘indigo children’ ou’crianças azuis’, possivelmente uma referência ao avatar indiano Khrisna (figura ao lado) que, segundo a lenda, era azul. ‘Boriska é uma dessas crianças.
Aparentemente, as ‘crianças azuis’ tem a missão especial de promover mudanças em nosso planeta. Muitas delas têm as espirais do DNA notavelmente perfeitas, o que lhes confere uma inacreditável resistência do sistema imunológico capaz de neutralizar a ação do vírus da AIDS.
Boriska, aos nove anos, relata aos seus parentes e amigos tudo o que sabe sobre a civilização marciana, informações que ele recorda de uma vida passada.
ENTREVISTADOR – Boriska, você realmente viveu em Marte como dizem as pessoas da vizinhança?
BORISKA – Sim, eu vivi, é verdade. Eu tinha 14 ou 15 anos. Os marcianos faziam guerra todo o tempo e eu tinha de participar daquilo. Eu podia viajar no tempo e no espaço, podia voar em naves espaciais e também pude observar a vida no planeta Terra. As naves marcianas são muito complexas e podem se deslocar pelo Universo.

ENTREVISTADOR – Existe vida em Marte atualmente?
BORISKA – Sim, existe, mas o planeta perdeu sua atmosfera muitos anos atrás, como resultado de uma catástrofe global. O povo marciano ainda vive em cidade nos subterrâneos. Eles respiram gás carbônico.

ENTREVISTADOR – Qual é a aparência dos marcianos?
BORISKA – Eles são muito altos, uma altura média de sete metros. Eles possuem capacidades inacreditáveis. Boriska fala de Marte mas também tem lembranças de suas observações sobre Terra naquela existência passada: ele foi testemunha da destruição da lendária civilização da Lemúria, ‘a maior catástrofe que já aconteceu neste planeta. Um continente gigante foi engolido por terríveis tempestades oceânicas. Eu tinha um amigo lemuriano que morreu na minha frente esmagado por uma rocha. Não pude fazer nada. Nós estamos destinados a nos reencontrar em algum momento desta vida.’ Sobre o Egito, Boriska diz que existe um conhecimento precioso oculto sob uma
pirâmide que ainda não foi descoberta: ‘A vida vai mudar quando a
Esfinge for aberta. A Esfinge tem um mecanismo que aciona uma abertura secreta. O mecanismo está atrás da orelha.’

Quanto ao aumento de nascimentos de crianças especialmente
dotadas, o garoto informa que isto é decorrência do fato de que ‘chegou a época’ propícia para que elas venham à Terra porque o ‘renascimento do planeta se aproxima… Eles estão nascendo e estarão preparados para ajudar as pessoas… Amar seus inimigos, essa é a Lei.
A URL desta reportagem, no site em inglês do Jornal PRAVDA, Rússia:
http://english.pravda.ru/science/19/94/378/16387_Boriska.html

Outra reportagem sobre Boriska pode ser vista na seguinta URL:
http://english.pravda.ru/science/19/94/377/12257_Martian.html

Bem…isso é realmente, no mínimo interessante. o.o

Tem algumas coisas nas quais não acredito, mas tem outras que não devem ser rejeitadas. /hmm

E você, acredita? :O