For all the residents of Midgar—whether the inhabitants of the gloomy slums under the enormous shadow or the pampered citizens of the Upper Plate—the past twenty-four hours had turned into a surreal mixture of madness that seemed to have no intention of ending. Usually at dawn the city came to life: the streets filled with honking, and crowds of workers hurrying to their shifts packed the stations.
But this morning turned out surprisingly quiet and ominous. And yet people still dragged themselves to their workplaces, perfectly understanding the harsh truth: a nighttime nightmare does not cancel the need to feed one's family.
On the railway platforms an anxious whisper never ceased. The residents of the slums tried to grasp the scale of yesterday's catastrophe, while on the Plate the citizens looked around warily. Having barely managed to discuss either the blinding flash of light that had illuminated the sky over the city or the wild chases with the destruction of the expressway, the exhausted Midgar was confronted with news that crossed out everything else.
In one moment the screens of monitors throughout the megacity blinked in unison, displaying the emergency news intro. The gazes of the city dwellers glued to the displays instantly froze. From the screen a cold, impassive face of Rufus Shinra looked at them, behind whom Heidegger and Tseng stood motionless.
Seeing the corporate heir at such an early hour, and in an emergency broadcast format no less, everyone thought the same thing: finally Shinra would issue the official version of the nighttime incidents. The residents of the slums prepared to listen to another portion of lying propaganda, while the citizens of the Plate prepared to pray that their habitual little world still remained safe. But the moment Rufus began to speak, the eyes of every viewer in Midgar widened from absolute, freezing shock.
"Residents of Midgar. Last night a daring attack was carried out on the corporate headquarters by a group of dangerous terrorists. During this barbaric act of terror President Shinra was killed. And now, officially assuming the position of the company's new President, I declare: I, Rufus Shinra, will throw all the resources of the corporation into finding and destroying these killers. And Midgar will once again become a safe home for each of you," Rufus began in an even tone devoid of any emotion, looking into the cameras with the absolute confidence of a man who held the situation under complete control.
The moment Rufus's first words rolled through the streets of the megacity, the residents of Midgar stared at the monitor screens in mute shock—consciousness refused to believe what it had heard. Rufus continued his speech, confidently and cold-bloodedly hammering out every word in the status of the corporation's new head, while the city was still trying to grasp the terrible news: the permanent President Shinra had been killed that night.
This emergency news thundered no weaker than yesterday's mysterious magical circle that had illuminated the firmament over Midgar with blinding light. Avalanches of whispers, rumors, and the wildest assumptions instantly crawled through the streets.
The residents of the Upper Plate, frightened to the limit, immediately seized on the habitual image of the enemy, blaming everything on the radical cell of Avalanche and the government of Wutai. In the slums, quiet conversations spread at the speed of a fire until they reached the ears of Avalanche's main cell and the ordinary residents of Sector Five.
However, the poor under the Plate partially guessed the mosaic of what was happening: they remembered all too well the unexpected brutal raid by corporate operatives and the foray to kidnap orphans from the orphanage in Sector Five of the Slums. In the cozy kitchen of her home Elmyra was busy preparing breakfast for the still sweetly sleeping little Marlene.
In the background the radio mumbled as a habitual backdrop. But the moment Rufus's cold voice sounded from the speaker, Elmyra's hands trembled: the ladle slipped from her fingers with a deafening clang and fell onto the countertop. Holding her breath, Elmyra slowly turned her head toward the radio receiver. She knew perfectly well exactly where her adoptive daughter Aerith and all her friends had gone the day before.
But even knowing the reason for their trip to the headquarters, the news of the death of Shinra's very head became a complete revelation for her. Elmyra was sacredly convinced: neither Aerith, nor Alex, nor anyone from their company would ever cold-bloodedly kill the President. This led only to one habitual thought that tasted bitter on the lips—the corporation was once again shamelessly hanging other people's bloody sins on the shoulders of those who had dared to stand in its way.
"Aerith… I hope from the bottom of my heart that you all managed to escape from this damned city…" Elmyra muttered in a quiet, barely audible whisper. Hearing the sleepy rubbing of eyes and light little steps of Marlene in the corridor, she hastily stretched out her hand and turned off the radio receiver, not wanting to frighten the child with the gloomy news of the outside world.
The moment the radio's toggle switch clicked, sleepy Marlene quietly stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with her little fists and looking around anxiously. Noticing how her gaze anxiously searched the room for her father, Elmyra smiled softly and soothingly.
"Barret and the others haven't returned yet, sunshine," Elmyra said quietly, anticipating Marlene's questions.
Hearing this, Marlene nodded sleepily and sighed heavily. She had long since grown used to the fact that her father often disappeared for an indefinite time, and despite her young age she perfectly understood the main thing: Barret risked himself for a good cause, protecting the planet and its residents from the greedy, heartless Shinra corporation.
Wanting to distract the girl from sad thoughts and waiting, Elmyra affectionately suggested that they prepare breakfast together. Hearing the unexpected proposal, Marlene sweetly tilted her head to the side, and her sleepy gaze instantly changed to enthusiasm.
Nodding readily, she immediately began to chatter, proudly boasting that during the last get-togethers she had managed to peek at several cooking secrets from Tifa—all so that one day she could pleasantly surprise her father with her culinary talents. Listening to the childish boastful speeches, Elmyra caught herself realizing that a tender, deep smile was blooming on her lips.
The freshness with which Marlene shared her little kitchen victories reminded her with painful yet incredible warmth of Aerith's own childhood, when she had likewise enthusiastically told about all her beginnings.
Continuing to smile, Elmyra pulled a small wooden stool up to the table and took from the depths of the cupboard a neatly folded children's apron embroidered with delicate floral patterns. The moment the fabric appeared in the light, Marlene's eyes lit up with an enthusiastic gleam at the sight of such beauty.
Watching this sincere radiance, Elmyra froze for a moment: in that very instant little Aerith in her memories merged with Marlene—her gaze had shone exactly the same way on the day when she first put on this apron and, carelessly ringing with laughter, refused to take it off from dawn to dusk.
"Oh… How beautiful! Did you make it yourself?" Marlene asked, holding her breath and carefully touching the embroidered petals with her little fingers in Elmyra's hands.
"Yes, myself. I embroidered every little flower with my own hands especially for Aerith when she was just a tiny thing. She then didn't take it off for a whole week, can you imagine? She even went to sleep in it; it was impossible to persuade her to part with it," Elmyra answered with endless tenderness in her voice, helping the little one climb onto the stool, draping the apron over her shoulders and carefully fastening the ties on the back.
"A… And can you teach me to embroider? I really want to try too…" Marlene asked quietly, bashfully lowering her gaze and fidgeting with the edge of the apron, raising trusting eyes from below.
"Of course I can… But tell me, why did you suddenly want to master handicrafts?" Elmyra nodded with a soft smile, slightly leaning toward the girl to look her straight in the eyes.
"I want to make a gift for Dad… My dad does so much good for everyone around. And even when he comes home completely tired, with heavy hands, he never forgets to read me fairy tales before bed… So I thought I want to please him with my own hands," Marlene admitted, shyly rubbing her little palms behind her back and looking at her with hope.
"You are such an incredibly kind girl… Just like Aerith in childhood. Of course I will teach you to embroider with the greatest pleasure so that you can prepare the best gift for your dad," Elmyra whispered, feeling a lump of tenderness rising to her throat, and carefully, barely touching with her fingers, ran her palm over Marlene's tousled hair.
Hearing the promise to teach her handicrafts, Marlene instantly lit up, bestowing on Elmyra a sincere, endlessly warm smile. Watching this childish joy, Elmyra sighed softly and tenderly smoothed the little one's tousled hair. And while an incredibly cozy, homely atmosphere reigned in Aerith's house, the rest of Midgar continued to sink into cold chaos.
Rufus's speech before the press was coming to an end. With his carefully calibrated speech he had from the very first seconds made clear both to the citizens of the megacity and to the residents of distant regions: under his leadership the Shinra corporation would become far more powerful and effective than under his father. Prone to subtle manipulation, Rufus quickly convinced the public that he was the only worthy candidate for the post of company head.
Having answered only a couple of key questions from the invited reporters briefly and cold-bloodedly, Rufus restrainedly raised his hand, making it clear that the press conference was over. Accompanied by Tseng and Heidegger he unhurriedly left the hall. While the trio moved along the panoramic corridor to the elevator, Heidegger kept trying to strike up a conversation, desperately attempting to demonstrate loyalty to the new boss.
However right at the entrance Rufus, without even turning around, merely raised his palm and regulated the distance in an icy tone, making it clear: now was not the time for empty chatter. Swallowing the offense, Heidegger merely nodded gloomily and slipped into the elevator cabin, standing behind the backs of Tseng and the young President.
While the elevator rapidly rose to the 70th floor, Heidegger carefully touched his broken nose—the memorable souvenir left to him by Claudia during their escape from the headquarters. Clenching his teeth from a flash of pain and anger, the head of the Security Department burned with shame mentally.
He was sacredly convinced: Rufus's coldness was connected exclusively with his failure—he had not only failed to protect the old President but had also allowed the fugitives to leave alive. While Heidegger feverishly scrolled through plans for currying favor in his head, Tseng leaned toward Rufus's very ear, addressing him in a barely audible whisper.
"President Rufus, sir… Shall I order pursuit squads to be dispatched immediately?" Tseng asked quietly, leaning closer to Rufus so that Heidegger would not overhear their conversation.
"There is no need for that yet. I think it would be extremely impolite on our part to open a hunt for him so quickly," Rufus answered with a light, barely perceptible smile, turning his head toward the head of the Turks.
"Do you have another plan, sir?" Tseng inquired, slightly raising an eyebrow and catching that unambiguous smirk.
"One could say so. I have one rather well-founded assumption," Rufus drawled thoughtfully, running his fingers over his chin and watching Midgar floating past through the glass walls of the elevator.
"May I know what it is about?" Tseng clarified with professional interest, wishing to learn Rufus's further plans.
"Considering the explosive nature of our new friend… I am practically one hundred percent certain: once free outside Midgar, he simply will not be able to sit quietly in the bushes. He will definitely arrange his next grandiose performance," Rufus explained with a quiet chuckle, turning his gaze to Tseng and looking him in the eyes.
"And that means as soon as he shows himself, we will know their further route exactly," Tseng spoke, slowly nodding his head and instantly catching the essence of the idea.
"Exactly. And we won't even have to spend resources on searches. They themselves will lead us straight to the Promised Land that my father so wanted to find," Rufus summarized with cold mockery, placing his hands behind his back and directing his gaze at the boundless wasteland spreading beyond the concrete walls of the megacity.
Hearing Rufus's true design, Tseng hastily nodded, expressing full agreement with the chosen strategy. He himself had repeatedly witnessed how Alex turned any of his actions into a large-scale show before the next diversion.
Analyzing Alex's dossier and his habitual schemes, the head of the Turks was practically certain: this guy would never miss a chance to arrange a grandiose performance for the whole planet. However, Tseng considered it his duty to once again remind the young President how dangerous Alex really was and what consequences his provocation could lead to.
A vivid confirmation of the service risks remained the bodies of eight Deepground fighters found in the elevator shaft with specific stab wounds on their necks. Tseng perfectly remembered with what exactly those blows had been delivered—that very collectible fountain pen that Alex had laughingly pulled from his office during yesterday's visit, calling it a "memorable souvenir."
Having listened to Tseng's warning, Rufus nodded understandingly. He himself was fully aware of the colossal threat their opponent represented, especially when the destructive power of the Red Materia ended up in his hands. While Rufus was immersed in his thoughts, Tseng's PHS briefly vibrated. Pulling the device from the pocket of his strict jacket and running his gaze over the screen, Tseng leaned toward Rufus.
"Sir, Reeve, Scarlet, and Palmer are already waiting for you in the new office. With the exception of Professor Hojo—he is currently in his laboratory assessing the scale of the damage received," Tseng said in a quiet whisper, holding his PHS in front of himself so that Rufus could see the message.
At the mention of Hojo Rufus's face for a short moment distorted from deep, freezing disgust toward this mad scientist whom his late father had valued so highly. Rufus would have given the order with open pleasure to liquidate this walking nightmare on the spot, but dry calculation prevailed: the crazy professor still remained too valuable a resource to simply write him off.
As unpleasant as it was for him, Rufus decided to temporarily keep Hojo on a short leash—exactly until he exhausted his usefulness or until an adequate replacement was found. However, perfectly understanding the scientist's complete unpredictability, Rufus nevertheless decided that it was still worth taking out insurance.
"Send your people to watch Hojo's every step. Whatever he plans and wherever he goes—report personally to me. It's time they once and for all understood who now holds the reins of control of Shinra," Rufus ordered, turning to Tseng and pronouncing every word while the latter had not yet managed to put the PHS back into his pocket.
"It will be done, President Shinra. Will there be any further instructions?" Tseng nodded quickly, already typing the order for the operatives on the keys.
"Not yet. First we will hold an unforgettable meeting with the Board of Directors," Rufus answered with a cold, predatory smirk, once again directing his gaze forward and placing his hands behind his back.
Putting the PHS into the deep pocket of his jacket, Tseng nodded briefly and threw a warning look at Heidegger, who was looming behind their backs in the spacious elevator cabin. The head of the Turks perfectly understood: the main internal problem for Rufus could become precisely the members of the Board of Directors, who were quite capable of trying to challenge the authority of the young leader.
However, in what Tseng did not doubt for a second was that the first to side with the new President would be precisely Heidegger, ready for any humiliations for the sake of preserving his post and the opportunity to curry favor. However, Tseng did not even need to voice these thoughts, since Rufus himself perfectly calculated every one of his steps.
He had thoroughly studied the psychotypes of all the directors and knew exactly which "carrots" or threats needed to be waved in front of their noses to force them to unquestioningly carry out any orders. When the President's personal elevator stopped with a soft rustle on the 70th floor, the doors silently slid apart.
Rufus stepped out first, followed by Tseng, and the procession was closed by the gloomy, hunched-from-anger Heidegger. Entering the spacious Presidential office, Rufus immediately saw Reeve, Scarlet, and Palmer, who had lined up in front of the massive desk awaiting the new master.
Sweeping this trio with an assessing, icy gaze, Rufus unhurriedly crossed the room, placing his hands behind his back. Every one of his movements radiated absolute confidence and heavy, pressing authority, as with his entire appearance he made it clear that from now on this empire belonged exclusively to him. Slowly walking around the desk, Rufus settled into the wide leather armchair and carelessly propped his cheek with his fist.
Tseng silently took a position behind his left shoulder, folding his hands behind his back, and Heidegger sharply straightened up like a string, standing next to the other directors as befits a devoted head of security. Looking at the frozen top of the corporation before him, Rufus allowed himself a predatory, barely noticeable smirk, for what he had so long dreamed of had finally ended up in his hands.
"Well then… Let's begin," Rufus said with a cold smile, slowly sweeping a piercing gaze over the four directors.
While a ruthless change of power was taking place in the depths of Shinra, the true catalysts of this coup were enjoying relative peace in a completely different place. On the rocky wasteland, just a couple of kilometers from the bristling concrete walls of Midgar, stood an impressive armored personnel carrier.
In the shadow of the vehicle a large company had settled, whose communication more resembled friendly get-togethers after a long separation. Claudia, Tifa, and Barret were enthusiastically retelling Biggs and Wedge all the madness they had experienced, including the daring escape from the corporate headquarters. Nearby Aerith with a radiant smile was chatting with Valerie, Heather, and Angel, sincerely wishing to get to know better those whom Alex called his family.
Yuffie, as usual, was asking a dozen questions per second, having arranged a loud argument with Nobukatsu—he was proving to her with foam at the mouth that ninjutsu was complete crap, and real men relied exclusively on the power of taijutsu. By the driver's door Dean had settled, having found an excellent conversationalist in Falco against the background of a shared love for cars.
Falco himself, however, knew Winchester's reputation perfectly well from Guild reports and was conducting a very lively conversation, not at all hiding his interest in the talk. Meanwhile on the opposite side of the APC Alex was trying to hide behind the massive door in order to change the clothes that smelled of dust and dirt for a clean set—his previous outfit after all the astral adventures was already impossible to wash without magic.
Left in just jeans, he had already reached for a black T-shirt when he distinctly felt someone else's fingers sliding over his bare skin. He didn't even have to guess about the source of such insolent intrusion. Turning his head, Alex met Jessie's gaze; she stood behind him with a triumphant, extremely sly smirk and shamelessly continued to draw patterns with her fingers on his back.
"How long are you going to keep groping me? I actually need to get dressed, if you don't mind," Alex said with a light sigh, looking at Jessie with a slight smile.
"Well, first of all, your body is a pure ten out of ten, it's a sin to complain. And second, I didn't even know you had such a tattoo on your back. What do these intricate signs even mean? Is this some ancient Cetra dialect?" Jessie spoke in a coquettish tone, completely losing all sense of measure and beginning to feel up Alex's muscles even more insolently.
"It's not a tattoo, but a protective blessing… And actually there are no drawings on my chest…" Alex tried to object, feeling how Jessie's nimble fingers had already unhinderedly migrated straight onto his chest.
"Really? I'm just checking whether you have any fresh wounds! Pure medicine and safety technique, nothing personal. Honest-to-goodness," Jessie waved off cheerfully, not even thinking of removing her hands.
"Alex, have you finished changing yet?.. Hey, stop getting handsy! Get in the general queue, Jessie!" Aerith called out indignantly, peeking out from around the corner of the armored vehicle and catching this piquant picture.
"I'm not groping him, I'm studying artifacts of antiquity! Aerith, have you even seen this?" Jessie parried laughing, turning Alex's back to Aerith so that she could evaluate the mysterious inscriptions with her own eyes.
Seeing Alex's naked torso, Aerith nodded several times with the dignity of an expert, mentally assessing the result. However, she had never seen him without upper clothing before, although during their kisses she had managed to study the relief of his body quite sufficiently. Having confirmed that reality fully matched her expectations, Aerith concentrated all her attention on the mysterious writings on his back, the existence of which until that moment she had not even guessed.
Stepping closer, she ran the tip of her finger over the complex patterns with genuine, almost childlike interest. Tracing the lines, Aerith slightly tilted her head to the side, catching a strange, deep vibration.
The energy emanating from the runes differed strikingly from the habitual currents of the Lifestream—it wafted of something ancient, alien, and unconditionally divine. Alex, noticing her thoughtful look, was not at all surprised: through the thin attunement with the planet she intuitively sensed the echoes of the blessings of Hestia, Freya, Loki, and Hephaestus.
Watching how Aerith was overly enthusiastically drawing with her finger on Alex's back, Jessie couldn't hold back. Beaming with a smirk, she leaned forward and whispered a couple of caustic little phrases into Aerith's ear. In response Aerith narrowed her eyes slyly and likewise whispered back that actually she had managed to evaluate all this much earlier and in a far more intimate setting.
From such a frank statement Jessie was taken aback for a second and stared at her in astonishment, completely losing her habitual role. All this time she had sincerely considered Aerith a sweet, kind, and naive simpleton.
But now, looking at the sly spark in her eyes, Jessie realized: Aerith was excellent at wearing masks. Noticing Jessie's stupor, Aerith merely shrugged carelessly, silently making it clear that she had never particularly hidden her secretive "witchy" essence.
"Hey, girls, I'm of course very flattered by such attention, but maybe you'll let me finally get dressed? I have no desire at all to sunbathe half-naked under the scorching sun," Alex interrupted their whispering with a sigh, shaking a clean black T-shirt in his hand.
"Of course-of course, change, we'll just stand nearby and observe," Aerith nodded with an innocent smile, casting a glance at Alex's abs.
"Yeah, we're in no hurry. Continue the show," Jessie supported with a wide smirk, lazily leaning her back against the open door of the armored vehicle and making it clear that she would not move from the spot.
"You both understand that I'm definitely not going to take my pants off here?" Alex clarified with a quiet chuckle, sweeping Aerith and Jessie with a cheerful look.
"Tch, what a bore… And we had already gotten our hopes up for premium content," Aerith drawled disappointedly, clicking her tongue and sweeping Alex with a playfully offended gaze.
"Maybe I should also perform a striptease for you, ladies?" Alex threw mockingly, raising an eyebrow and playfully snapping Aerith on the tip of her nose.
"And can you? Wait a second, I just happen to have a couple of large bills for a tip lying around in my belt pouch…" Jessie perked up with genuine excitement, immediately beginning to frantically rummage through her pockets in search of gil.
"All right, all right, I was just joking," Alex, tired of his own chatter, rubbed the bridge of his nose, finally confirming that in the company of these two girls it was better not to wag one's tongue extra.
Hearing Alex's words, Jessie stopped frantically rummaging in her belt pouch and turned to him with a mischievous smirk, making it clear that she too had just been joking. Quietly sighing, Alex finally pulled the clean black T-shirt over his head and reached for the sports bag for shoes.
Taking out a pair of sturdy sneakers, Alex sat down on the edge of the APC's pull-out step and began changing his footwear, half-listening to the hum of voices coming from the other side of the vehicle. While he was tying the laces, Valerie's head pushed out from behind the open door on the cabin side.
"Hey, bro, how long are you going to mess around there?" Valerie asked loudly, sweeping Alex with a sly look and cheerfully wiggling her eyebrows.
Turning his head, Alex merely silently pointed a finger at his sneakers, showing that he was already on the home stretch, and preferring to conceal the fact of the recent "medical examination." But Valerie merely threw him a sly, full-of-mischief look, with her entire appearance making it clear: she had perfectly heard every phrase from this piquant exchange.
Rolling his eyes, Alex lazily waved a hand, shooing away the persistent younger sister. Quietly giggling, Valerie pulled her head back in, throwing a short reminder on parting that they still had a serious conversation ahead of them. Nodding to himself, Alex tightened the last knot on the laces and began pulling his habitual leather shoulder holster onto his shoulders.
Noticing his movements, Jessie instantly jumped closer and obligingly helped straighten the straps on his back. Accepting her help, Alex with a habitual gesture sunk the heavy pistols—Jackal and Cassull—into the holster, then took from the bag and threw over his shoulders his favorite thin black coat.
Finally finishing with the equipment, Alex stretched sweetly, clicked a light on a thin cigar, and picked up the bag with the reserve of gil and personal gear. Throwing the bags over his shoulder, Alex in the company of Aerith and Jessie stepped out of the shadow of the APC toward the rest of the group.
Crossing glances with Dean, Alex understandingly winked and suggested that he also change his dusty outfit for a clean one. However, Dean merely carelessly waved it off, making it clear that nothing would damage his jacket anymore. Not insisting, Alex dumped the bag with the loot right at his feet and headed toward Valerie, Heather, and Angel standing nearby.
"I see you've finally gotten fully into it, Cheryl. I'm really glad to see that you're living a full life again after all that hell in Silent Hill… By the way, does Harry even know where you're disappearing to right now?" Alex spoke with a soft, warm smile, affectionately stroking Heather's hair.
"School is complete crap, and Dad knows perfectly well what and with whom I'm busy. But since you yourself brought up Silent Hill… I have one tiny but damn urgent little question for you," Heather countered with a light smirk, bestowing a cheerful look on Alex.
"And what is it, Cheryl? What has you so agitated?" Alex clarified with sincere interest, slightly tilting his head to the side and looking into Heather's eyes.
"What the hell didn't you warn me that these monstrous creatures have now officially registered in my own shadow?! I nearly had a heart attack when that damn Pyramid Head with his giant cleaver silently crawled out right from under my feet! Do you even realize what that's like?! Do you have any idea how creepy it is—you lower your gaze to your own shadow, and from there someone's bloody eyes are staring at you?!" Heather suddenly roared, switching to a shout, grabbing the lapels of his black coat with her fingers and beginning to continuously and with feeling shake Alex.
Hearing Heather's thunderous accusations, Alex hastily covered her mouth with his palm so that the stormy outpourings would not attract unnecessary attention from the rest of the company. But even with her mouth clamped shut Heather continued to furiously shake him by the collar, showering him with muffled but no less angry curses.
The other members of the group, hearing the scuffle behind them, warily turned around, observing the amusingly dramatic picture of how Heather was furiously shaking Alex while he himself unsuccessfully tried to calm her. Catching the questioning looks of the group, Alex guiltily waved his free hand, putting on a cheerful smile in the style of "everything is under control, continue resting."
Attempts to call Heather to silence verbally failed, and Alex hopefully looked at Valerie and Angel, seeking support. They merely smirked in unison and demonstratively spread their arms to the sides, silently making it clear that he was to blame himself and had to deal with the consequences of his own surprises. Sighing heavily and pursing his lips, Alex allowed Heather to let off steam to the end.
After a couple of minutes of furious shaking Heather finally exhaled through her nose, contemptuously released his lapels, and stepped back a pace. Having confirmed that the storm had passed, Alex calmly explained: this entire creepy suite from Silent Hill headed by Pyramid Head had been attached to her shadow exclusively for safety—in case she decided to take off on another journey through the worlds.
Bestowing on him a destroying, empty look, Heather as a final argument smartly kicked him in the leg for the absence of preliminary caresses and warnings. Alex merely smiled softly and conciliatorily ruffled the top of her head; Heather demonstratively snorted but did not push his hand away.
"By the way, girls… Am I understanding correctly that you don't plan to return to Orario for now?" Alex inquired, changing the subject and continuing to soothingly stroke the sulking Heather on the head.
"Unfortunately, no. We hadn't even managed to spend an hour in this world before we were instantly buried under assignments. You can evaluate the scale of the catastrophe yourself," Angel answered with a heavy sigh, extracting from her pocket and holding out to Alex her smartphone.
"Whoa… Well, they really loaded you up, to put it mildly, from the heart. Here's a whole treatise. So, alcohol for Loki's drinking parties—that's clear. Snacks for everyone from Hestia… Collection of samples of local fauna, judging by the handwriting, ordered by Red and White… And judging by everything, the others also put their hand in," Alex said, slightly whistling as he ran his eyes over the endless list of tasks.
"That's putting it mildly. Bro, do you by any chance have something in the stash that could optimize this nightmare?" Valerie inquired, rolling her eyes, taking the gadget from Alex's hands and returning it to Angel.
"Of course there is. Find a guy named Chadley in Midgar—he can greatly simplify your life with these tasks," Alex suggested with a sly smile, pulling out his phone and showing the girls a photo of the young gifted techno-geek.
"What is this pretty little kid? He looks about twelve. What use can he be?" Heather leaned toward the screen skeptically, raising an eyebrow and transferring a suspicious look back to Alex.
"He's an artificial android created with specific access to Shinra's networks, including the global beacon system around the world. Besides, he has developments on searching for abandoned ruins and ancient Cetra temples that I need very much," Alex explained calmly, putting his phone into his pocket and lighting a fresh thin cigar.
"First you clearly explain why you need these ancient temples and how much you're ready to shell out for the trouble, bro. And then we'll already think whether it's worth getting involved in your adventure," Valerie spoke with a businesslike, predatory smirk, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jacket.
"Demand whatever your soul desires, within reasonable limits, of course. And as for the goal… I need the Red Materia. If simpler—these are the embodiments of ancient 'Pokémon.' There are eleven of them in total, and five of them are already in my collection," Alex answered, conspiratorially lowering his voice and slightly stroking his chin, at the same time taking from the pocket of his coat a shimmering Red Materia in order to demonstrate this item to the three girls.
To be continued...
(At first, I thought about leaving Midgar right away and heading straight for the town of Kalm. But then I changed my mind—I felt it needed a proper conclusion before finally departing the city to set off on an adventure. This will also help ensure that Valerie, Heather, and Angel get to meet Ciri, who is set to appear in the story—all while Alex saves the world and enjoys the adventure, and so on. I also haven't forgotten that I want to include Sam, GIR, MIMI, and Stitch in the plot. After all, they'll gain a new friend in Steve—plus some new "moms" they can pester for snacks! Though, I have a feeling they might end up fighting Yuffie for those treats... and Yuffie definitely won't be the one coming out on top. Hehehe. Anyway, time to get some sleep; it's quite late now that I've finished this chapter. Peace, love, and Alex is off to the beach—yahoo!)