Hours had passed since Margaret left for her shop. Alfie was home alone with his brothers—not an unusual situation. Their father, Falco, often traveled to deliver weapons to the Shinras. His forging skill was well-recognized, yet poorly compensated. The Shinras had a saying: "We fight, you forge, we pay just little."
Despite the low pay, Falco loved his job. He had once tried to become a Shinra himself but failed. Becoming a blacksmith was his way of contributing to the fight against the darkside spirits. He believed that if he couldn't destroy them, he could at least help others do so. Deep down, he and Alfie shared the same dream, but Falco assumed his son would fail just like he did.
At the edge of a dense rainforest in the southern part of the country, Falco arrived at a Shinra camp with a delivery.
"Hey, blacksmith! What are you doing standing there like a tree stump? Bring us the weapons!" a Shinra in a black cape shouted.
"My apologies, I sometimes space out," Falco replied as he approached the camp.
"Here they are—all the weapons you ordered."
"You're lucky you're not a Shinra. Spacing out like that on a battlefield would get you killed," another Shinra said, this one wearing a red cape and stepping forward to inspect the gear.
"I already tried the battlefield life when I was young. It's not my path," Falco replied with quiet confidence.
"Hah! Quit whining, you lowly blacksmith. Take your coin and get lost," sneered a voice from inside the camp, hidden from view.
"I'm leaving, but let me warn you—" Falco paused and glanced around. "I have a sharp sense of hearing. Something is approaching. Sounds like radio waves... strong ones. You should be on alert."
"Didn't I say get lost? What do you know, anyway? Your ears must be messing with your brain," the hidden Shinra snapped. The others laughed.
But the captain—easily distinguished by his ornate black cape—raised a hand.
"Enough of that. Never underestimate someone just because they aren't a Shinra," he said. "All defense units, be on alert!"
"You're going to take orders from this blacksmith now?" the rude Shinra protested. "If anything was out there, our sensory unit would've picked it up by now."
"Hearing and sight are two different abilities," the captain said. "Those with enhanced hearing can detect things long before they're seen. Some say they can even hear thoughts. I trust what he says."
The captain watched Falco as he calmly walked away, still able to hear every word from behind.
"Stop praising me, Captain. Just do what needs to be done," Falco called back, waving a hand.
But then he froze. His legs trembled.
"What is this sound?" he muttered, eyes wide. The vibration in the air was getting stronger—closer by the second.
He spun around and shouted, "GET READY! It's coming—fast!"
He sprinted back to the camp, panic on his face.
"All units, prepare for battle!" the captain ordered. "Sensory unit—report!"
"Nothing, sir! We don't see anything coming from any direction!"
"You see?! This is nonsense! He's just seeking attention!" the rude Shinra barked.
"Shut up and prepare yourself!" the captain snapped.
"I'm not helping out of goodwill," Falco said, standing firm. "I want to stay alive for my family. Say whatever you want—I don't care. And trust me, I get more than enough attention at home."
"Tch. I'm only following orders because of the captain," the Shinra grumbled.
Then came the cry from the sensory unit.
"ATTENTION! A swarm of darkside spirits is approaching from all directions! Beta-levels—but there are so many of them!"
"What the hell—he was right all along!" the rude Shinra gasped.
"I told you not to underestimate others!" the captain roared. "Positions, now! We can't let these creatures reach the villages!"
"If we fall—we fall fighting. Don't die before taking every last one of them down! Do you understand?!"
"Yes, Captain!" the entire unit shouted in unison, bracing themselves for the onslaught