Gun AU 8

[warmskies]

"They fell for the same trick twice," Genesis comments, barely contained amusement still managing to override whatever awe is there in his voice. "Incredible."

Perhaps it really does say something about ShinRa, or its Peacekeeper security forces, that Gillian and Genesis were still able to slip back to ShinRa headquarters with minimum fuss. No fuss, really. All it took was a pair of plain clothing, hats with the ShinRa logo on them that help cover their faces, and the trick that Sephiroth thinks is what Gillian used - acting as though it was normal for them to be here.

Perhaps this way was even easier than how Gillian managed it, honestly. There's no need for acting, when you're dressed so plainly and yet still walk forward with a casual sort of nature. People assume on their own that you're supposed to be passing through.

"You haven't gone nearly as far yet," Sephiroth comments quietly, scanning the area around them. It really isn't that far at all, in all honesty, which is a part of why he's still so on edge. It's only a "hop and a skip away" - a phrase he's heard some of the Thirds use - from the main frontal entrance into the first of many buildings that make up ShinRa... but this is the main one. And this is the enormous stairway that goes nearly all the way up the building - at least more than three quarters of the way, if he had to guess. "We should be clear... So let's hurry. Any security cameras should be taken care of now."

At least, so long as Lazard is "working overtime"... Hopefully he's managed to get them down, those cameras which would be pointed at the various exits which lead out from the stairwell. Sephiroth puts his faith in him that he has.

Sephiroth, like so many other people working in ShinRa, has never bothered to look at the main emergency stairwell. Why would anyone bother with that, when the main building is near 70 floors high, and they all have access to elevators? Sure, Sephiroth has a feeling that he probably could have run down the stairs faster than the elevator could have moved, but... That was unnecessary. So he had never done it.

Stepping inside now, however.... He has to admit that he can see why people would want to actively avoid it even if they could go up and down its steps so easily. Craning his neck back, he can only see hospitable slabs of gray concrete and metal handrails whose paint is peeling off, all the way up to multiple floors up.

Genesis whips off his cap almost the second he has the chance when Sephiroth makees sure the door is closed behind them, the redhead's nose wrinkled in distaste. "The things we do in order to succeed," he sighs, stuffing the hat into Gillian's large shoulder bag. Why he doesn't put it into his own backpack is a mystery to Sephiroth. "So just to reiterate, this stairway goes all the way up to the 60th floor?"

Going over the plan again right before it's put into action - Sephiroth is familiar with this particular practice. It makes him feel better, almost. Or, if not better, at least in familiar territory. "That is right. Due to the elite and classified nature of many of the floors past Level 60, it is locked by way of keycard. There are a rare few spares left in various places on different floors, but... I am afraid that I do not know where most of them are." Likely no one ever thought that it would be a problem with him. After all - "However, I have a keycard that can get me access to all the way to the lab rooms near the top of this building, and any other labs besides."

A request by Hojo, early on, when the custody battle between him and Lazard was waging and it was becoming frustratingly clear to him that ShinRa cared more about having a weapon than letting him continue his experiments in his own particular and exact ways. He made it work in the end, of course. Sephiroth's keycard was just one way of that.

Gillian adjusts her bag's strap, her gaze focused upwards just like Sephiroth's was a moment ago. "Indeed, they haven't changed that sort of thing even after this much time has passed," she comments. "Then, we will be relying on your card for the time being, Sephiroth." She looks back down to him and Genesis. "If anything happens, remember that it is best if you split up from us, Sephiroth. I know that you may still not have made up your mind on what you want to do with what I told you... And i know that you would be giving up a lot here." She smiles, apologetic.

This again.... There's a lot he could say on this matter, but Sephiroth knows that this isn't the time or place for it. They don't have that much time, not if they want to slip in and out with no problems. So he nods, to show his appreciation if nothing else.

There's something more important to address anyway. Reaching into his own bag, Sephiroth pulls out a carefully zipped plastic bag. He had to be careful packing it, so long ago. Knives and cheap plastic do not lend well to one another. "I managed to get a blood sample from the person that I fought down in the lower sectors," he tells Gillian, watching her eyes light up in a way that has little to do with the mako. "Is this sufficient enough to investigate it?"

"I should be able to pull some amount of information from it," she agrees, reaching out to accept the bag. As the item is exchanged, Sephiroth watches the delicate and yet certain movement of her hands. She moves like a scientist.

Of course, he knew that. He's known that. She told him with her own lips, her former occupation and the things that she did, that which she regrets. And yet he only knows scientists by white coats and empty stares that come alive only when doing experiments. It's hard for him to reconcile that image with the woman standing there before him, wrinkles near her mouth from where she's smiled often, garbed in plain unassuming clothing even when not breaking into ShinRa headquarters.

Did Gast have wrinkles around his mouth, too? Sephiroth can't remember. He was three, the last time he ever saw Professor Gast. His eyesight was already excellent then, enough so that he can still remember the scientists being excited about it. Yet in the face of the overwhelming brightness of the lab lights, so much of what he can remember of Professor Gast was in shadow.

He has a mustache. His teeth looked brighter, underneath that dark hair.

"Well, we had best not keep our good friend waiting," she says, and it takes him a moment to realize that she's referring to Lazard. "And there are a great many flights we will have to traverse."

Genesis has been peering around the railings as well, frowning at all the peeling paint, but he finally looks back to Gillian at her words. "Are you quite certain that you'll be alright?" he asks her, stepping off of the first step to the stairs and hovering about her. "It is rather high, after all."

It's a legitimate question, Sephiroth supposes. Gillian managed to traverse the sewers of Midgar, but he knows for a fact that stairs require more energy. Yet she waves it off with a laugh, pushing past the two of them. "Oh, I'll be more than fine, Genesis. In fact, you could even say that I'm up to something!" She pauses, right there on the first landing, beaming and.... waiting for something, Sephiroth thinks?

That would be Genesis, pressing one hand to his face and taking a deep deep breath as though to steady himself. "Ma.... Please."





Even with the benefits that mako injection gives them, and him and Genesis both being a part of their respective projects, it is nonetheless sixty floors they have to walk the stairs of. They have a lot of time to themselves.





"You know, since we do seem to have the time, Sephiroth, how did you manage to get a sample of that woman's blood? This appears to be a kitchen knife."

"Ma, I was telling you and Angeal constantly about what all the magazines were talking about. She's been seen cavorting about with him for a solid week now! Ever since we left him!"

"Her name is Rosso. ShinRa assigned us to be partners together, in the wake of your initial break in."

"I see. I suppose that makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Partners. Ha. Partners indeed! Ma, you should have seen some of the pictures that the magazines had of the two of them. She was hanging all about him. It was wretched."

"Was she? I had to keep a close hold on here to ensure that there would be no incidents which would reflect badly on ShinRa... But she seems to think the experience to be amusing for some reason."

"Ha, well, I'm sure she did. You heard him, didn't you, Gen? That is simply how it is."

"Regardless on if that is how he viewed it to be, can you imagine how it felt to be Lazard? Watching this sort of thing happen? And with how busy Sephiroth has been, I imagine that there has not even been a chance for them to speak with one another on their relationship!"

"Our relationship is fine....? We have been speaking to one another regularly, both in the morning when I receive my assignment for the day, and in the evening when I return with Rosso to hand it in. He's still been doing very well as the Director of SOLDIER... If you were concerned about if he would betray you, then you do not have to worry. Lazard isn't that kind of man."

"Oh, he isn't talking about a professional relationship, sweetheart."

"Sephiroth, you must be honest with me. Have you tried to confess your love properly to him at all in the time that we have been apart? You have to tell us if you have made any strides. We would not judge you if you stayed for love!"

"...Do we look as though we are in love?"

"I apologize, but we did happen to overhear the conversation that you had with Lazard, that night when you stayed in the apartment."

"Truly, all that did was put something out in the open instead of having my constant suspicions over so many little things between the two of you. Of course I could tell."

"...How do you assess if you love someone in the romantic manner that I presume you're talking about?"

"Oh. Oh, dear - Genesis!"

That would be Genesis, somehow missing a step and pitching straight forward with his jaw hitting the railing.





"...And so that is why we assumed that the two of you were in a romantic relationship, you see. When people speak to others of wanting to live a domestic lifestyle such as that, the most common - although not only - idea is that one would like to be romantically entangled with the other."

"I see. I suppose that I can see the logic in that."

"Mhm. It is something that is - socially expected, that connection."

"...Is Genesis going to be okay?"

"Oh, he is simply in shock. I imagine that he will recover in the next few flights, don't you worry now."





"I suppose if there is one aspect of this rather shocking news, it is that I can at least rest well knowing that if you were not aware of the intricacies and beauties of love before we managed to educate you properly, then that means I have no need to worry on any of those wretched tabloids being true."

"I assume that you are referencing any articles regarding myself and Rosso?"

"The very same. They had no shortage of scandalous things to ponder and remark upon. Well - that is the nature of those who make their living upon nothing less than pure gossip and speculation."

"It seemed as though you were engaging in gossip and speculation yourself, this past week."

"Ah ha, but the difference there, you see, is that I am not being paid to do so."





"Miss Gillian..."

"That isn't quite right, dearheart. And you can simply call me 'Gillian'. There's no need for formalities."

"Very well. Gillian, even if you were on an opposing project when you worked under ShinRa, you still seemed familiar with Professor Hojo. I wanted to know more about that time."

"I see... Yes, of course you would be curious. I can understand that. Then, it is only right that I answer any questions that you may have. Since I was not on Project S, if you have any questions about that in particular, then I cannot guarantee that I know all the answers, of course. However, anything else, I will do my best to answer for you."

"Thank you. Then, when you were explaining Project S and Project G, you mentioned that five scientists were involved. However, you only named three, yourself amongst them. Did you know of a man named Gast...?"

"Gast...? I... Why, yes, I did. It's been so long since I heard his name... Out of all of us, he was the most respected. It was easy to see why, because he was truly the most brilliant amongst us as well. In many ways, he was something of a mentor to the rest of us, although some of us took to that idea more readily than others. When it came to the initial project proposals, he was the one that helped organize everything, or welcomed others that might not have felt they had a true chance anymore. He checked in on Project G a few times in its early stages... I have no doubt that he did the same with Project S. What he did afterwards, however... I am afraid I couldn't tell you. I left relatively early in the stages."

"You did?"

"Yes. Call it - a burst of panic, I suppose. At the same time, I like to think I had some clarity. Ha... I would have stood out far too much if I was too long into the pregnancy. But that is a story for another time. What made you ask of Gast?"

"When I was very young, I could remember his presence. He visited me often. Even as young as I was, I could remember that much. Yet, one day, I stopped seeing him, and the only people who were a constant around me were Professor Hojo and various other scientists who worked beneath him. So I could not help but wonder this: did you ever see Professor Gast again, out there in the world beyond Midgar?"

"Oh... Oh, no. I'm sorry, dear. No. After I left Midgar, I never saw any one of my old colleagues and coworkers again. Not even Professor Gast. No one in ShinRa ever mentioned him again?"

"No, not that I ever heard of. I asked Lazard, early on during my time in SOLDIER, but he had never heard the name beyond old newspaper articles.... and looking up anything about him was under a clearance higher than his, apparently."

"That isn't surprising. Gast was behind a great many things, in ShinRa. Of course they'd want to make sure any information about him or any projects he worked on were kept under the tightest of lock and key. At any rate, I am sorry that I can't tell you more about him. If I'd known that he had left ShinRa so long ago, then, certainly, I would have tried to find his whereabouts for myself."

"There is no reason for you to apologize. I understand that the chances were low before I asked you. Then, if you do not know Gast, then may I trouble you with another question?"

"Certainly."

"My mother died during my birth. I never had a chance to know more than her name. I thought that there could be a small chance that you may have known something about her, even though you were not personally involved in Project S."

"I suppose there's no harm in trying. Hojo always was an absolute controlling mess-"

"Ha."

"-even in regards to things that weren't related to the cutthroat and corporate inner workings of ShinRa... Unless he felt like gloating, that is, and even that had its limits. Yet the nature of both Project G and Project S meant that we were all rather reluctant and at many times discouraged from involving anyone outside of the company in their processes. That is why I was the one who ended up as a part of the process. Hollander and I both thought that it would be the best way to keep our processes and everything else secret, although neither of us could have imagined the choice that I would make in the end. I suppose I've gotten a bit off track and wordy - well! All that is to say that there is always a chance, since I know Hojo would have been even more invested in keeping things local, as it were. You said you knew her name... What was it, then, dearheart?"

"Jenova."

Gillian does not hit her chin on the railing when she misses a step. She does, however, slip so hard missing her step that she nearly slips right underneath the railing, and clings desperately to said railing even as Sephiroth and Genesis lunge for her.






"-I mean, it isn't as though he was lacking clearance, he had access, but he wouldn't go that far, would he?"

"..."

"No, no, that's nonsense. I know he would go that far. He has less morals than he has sense, and he never had the slightest traces of sense since I knew him."

"..."

"But that would be going too far, wouldn't it? Not that I think he knows what too far even means, but, at least, in terms of potentially contaminating his precious sample..."

"..."

"And that wouldn't even serve any purpose, that is the sort of thing that you would have to build up to. Right. Of course. Right?"

"...Genesis, is Gillian going to be.... all right?"

"Hm? Oh, well. I imagine so. Yet perhaps we should simply - give her a moment. Or a few more flights of stairs. I believe she still has a few more rants left in her to mumble through."





"Honestly now! Over sixty floors is just ridiculous! I always thought that it was ostentatious even with the inclusion of the elevators. What on earth do you need sixty floors for? You could manage with thirty."

"Yes ma'm."

"It's all merely an ego trip, and absolutely nothing more than that. Really! I bet he has some obnoxious little statue of himself set up as well."

"Of course ma'm."

"He does, actually, ma'm. It finished construction last year."

"Sephiroth, no."

"That full-of-himself two-bit hound! I bet that they still even included the mayor's office up on one of those floors, don't they? Too cheap to even build a separate building and pretend there's a difference between government and the massive corporation literally taking up 25% of the city at this rate, but more than enough to waste on an ugly vanity project."

"Mhm, ma'm."

"Also, they don't even do proper maintenance in any of these buildings, it's horrendous. And then they wonder just how people can break in!"

"I completely agree. Now, ma, do you feel just the slightest bit better now that you've had time to vent about how ShinRa is a terribly run company as well as being an immoral monument to mankind's greed?"

"...Genesis, dear, I must admit that I feel a bit silly when you phrase it all like that."

"Ha. You know I'm always here to bring you down to earth where you belong."

"Oh, now you are certainly teasing me!"





"....So, if I may bring up the prior matter, I am going to take it that Jenova is not my mother."

"Oh. Oh, no. I am sorry, Sephiroth, but to say that she is would be... twisting the reality of it somewhat. Jenova... is the name that we gave the Ancient which ShinRa has access to. Whose cells that we used for both Projects."

"...I see."

Gillian reaches out, and she takes his hand.





"You know, I have been thinking, Sephiroth, and I propose something: what do you think of a race?"

"A race, Genesis?"

"Indeed. You have been far too quiet that last set of stairs, and clearly something is needed in order to bring some life back to your eyes once more. Normally, I would challenge Angeal to a race - which he has yet to win against me, but I do like to give him a challenge to overcome, you know. However, considering that he is busy right now, I am left bereft. So race against me, so that both our spirits may lift up."

"Why? I think I would win. And we have Gillian to consider."

"....You see, now, we are going to race, and that is final. Arrogance is a sin, Sephiroth, and I think there is no better than me to drill such a lesson into your head."

"What? But why?"

"We go off on three, Sephiroth. Do try to keep up. One-"

"Genesis, I did not agree to a race."

"Two-"

"You really are determined, aren't you?"

"Three!"






Sephiroth beats Genesis in the race exactly as he said he would, but it was a closer call than he would ever have expected. Then again -

"You cheated," he says, in a way he knows must absolutely be level and calm even as the pair of them stand there at the top of the stairs, before the door leading onto the 60th floor. He has to reach back, push it away from his face so that it's no longer in the way. There is nothing about his words or his actions which is emotional. For better or worse, Sephiroth has found he's very good at not being emotional.

So why does Genesis grin, so bright and sharp, like he's managed to win something up over him despite being factually the one who lost in the race? "For me to have cheated, we would have had to establish rules of some sort saying what we could or could not do," he drawls.

He's not wrong. Sephiroth doesn't stop frowning. "You tried to kick me over the railing."

Genesis waves a hand through the air dismissively. "Oh, I knew that you would have been perfectly fine. Or are you telling me that the grand General Sephiroth can win a race but isn't quick enough to grab himself and swing over the railing again?"

There is no way that he can lie and no way he will lie on his own abilities. That doesn't change Sephiroth's expression much. However, he takes a bit of Lazard's advice in that moment: if he doesn't have a good idea on how to respond, then it is best to simply change the subject and leave people wondering. Not that he thinks Genesis is one to wonder....

"We should go back to retrieve Gillian," he says instead, and finally looks away from Genesis's satisfied expression. Gillian still seems to be a good half dozen floors down as far as he can tell, although that isn't deterring her at all. Still just a steady pace, like back down in the sewers.

Genesis settles against the railing right there with him, arms crossing against a section of metal with the most recent paint job. "Oh, no. She's fine with this." His fingers tap there along the metal, the sound ringing out and echoing throughout the long stairwell. "She knows that I wanted to do this. I would have gotten quite the scolding if I had done anything inappropriate. So." Those long fingers of his wrap around the railing, and Genesis leans back, hair falling from his face. "Here I stand, ready for any venting perhaps you may wish to spill forth."

Did Gillian know Genesis wanted to have some sort of private conversation with him? Sephiroth can't say, although he supposes that, rationally, Gillian and Genesis have known one another far longer than he has ever known either of them. For him, it has been at most and added all together a mere 24 hours.

Them? Even with what little Gillian has told him of her past, of what she's done.... He would guess that Genesis has known her nearly all his life.

Still, he is no mind reader in the end. Watching the patient way that Gillian treks up the stairs step by step, he inclines his head slightly towards Genesis. "And just what exactly would I spill forth to you...?"

"Oh, come now." Genesis sighs. From the corner of his eye, Sephiroth can just faintly see the way his hair waves and shifts when he shakes his head. "With all that we have talked to you about on this rather tiresome little journey, I imagine there must be something churning within your chest, aching to be released."

...He's not wrong. All this time, ever since the steps where he first learned so much, Sephiroth has been quietly packing away the thoughts which have been stirring in his head. It's something that he's extremely good at. Back down in the labs, his "emotions" and "thoughts" were not what the scientists wanted to see from him. If he was to ask any questions, then the questions that they wanted to hear from him were to do with the studies that they placed before him. How math worked, what the next step would be, how one organ influenced the rest of the body. Things of that nature.

Any other questions, different thoughts, emotions... Those were things he was expected to discard, or, if not discarded, then to hide them away deep inside of himself.

Even Lazard, who he cares about most in the world, had to patiently work at getting him to reveal his thoughts when he first began to take on missions for SOLDIER. It was only then, hidden away in that little office far away from the world and all other people, that he could even say a single sentence on his emotions. On what he thought. On if he wanted different missions, or different teammates. Lazard encouraged that, in a place of his own.

Nowhere like this barren stairway, the only sound being the breathing of three people, and Gillian's step echoing up along the walls.

Sephiroth doesn't answer him. At least, he isn't even entirely sure where to begin. Should he start with that event only a little over a week ago, when Angeal and Genesis first literally crashed into his life? Or that conversation with Gillian in the kitchen? What he was told not that long ago in this very stairwell? Or maybe it should be about other things... Like Rosso, their similarities, how he doesn't want to leave her abandoned to ShinRa and it's lab. Like Lazard, the first person who truly cared for him, who offered him that first step underneath an open sky.

No answer. Fortunately, this doesn't seem to be the kind of thing that stops Genesis. His fingers tap along metal once more, and he pulls himself forward against the railing. "Both of my blood parents were ShinRa employees," he says suddenly, and Sephiroth finally looks at him. "They never actually revealed it to me, of course. When I was still a child, I thought they were simply the owners of a massive Banora White orchard. An entire town. ShinRa was only known to me as something... conceptual."

Something conceptual... "I think I understand that," Sephiroth murmurs. How many times had he seen the ShinRa logo on labcoats? Thermos? Various pieces of equipment that he was never allowed to touch, only have used on him.

Genesis huffs out a laugh, but neither it nor the look in his eyes are particularly mirthful. "Oh, I imagine you could. In hindsight, I wondered if I ever would have learned about their true origins. It would have explained so much to me, so I can only conclude that they would have taken it to their graves. When Gillian finally told me the truth of the matter, of why my parents had me in the first place and what was behind my birth... I felt a great deal. So much that it felt as though I had fallen into a period of numbness, and it was only Angeal's hand on mine, and Gillian's arms around my shoulders, that kept me linked to the earth." And, with no pretense or subtlety, Genesis slides his hand to press right against Sephiroth's.

Even with his lack of social skills... Sephiroth can understand the meaning, here. What lays behind the simple act of one hand touching another, in a moment like this. He stares down at those fingers, so different from his own and yet which almost belong right there.

Where to begin? Where to begin. "Did you hate your parents, when you learned the truth?" he finally asks.

"Oh, I thought about burning down the entire house with them locked inside," Genesis says without the slightest bit of hesitation. "What betrayal they had laid upon me, then. Despite those burning feelings, however, I refrained. All I did was... run." He chuckles suddenly, and rolls his head to the side. "My friend, do you fly away now...? To a world that abhors you and I?"

What. Wait... He knows this. Sephiroth's brow pulls together as he digs through the massive amount of information that Genesis had dumped on him during their train ride. "Are you quoting Loveless right now?"

"When poetry fits the moment, is it truly such a crime to recite it?" Genesis says, and elbows him harshly in the ribs when Sephiroth just stares at him. "Oh, hush."

"I didn't say anything."

That earns him another elbow to the ribs. "At any rate... When I think back on it with the clearer eyes of an adult, there was more than merely anger, of course. If it were only anger, then it would not have bit at me so harshly as it did, that painful truth. After all..." For only a moment, there is silence, before Genesis sighs. "Well, in the end, they were still the parents that I had grown and known for all my life up until that moment. I would be a liar if I said there were truly no happy memories of that time back in that home. Most of them from the woman who birthed me, even."

"...Does it no longer hurt, then, to think of that betrayal?"

Genesis's laughter is quiet, bitter. "Oh, the hurt shall never truly go away, I believe. And neither shall the mystery of what their true feelings were to me - not unless I were to return to them, I suppose. Yet much like the hurt, the mystery will have to remain as well... for I told myself a long time ago that I would never return to them. So I accept those things equally."

Sephiroth turns the words over in his head, again and again. A mystery of their true feelings... "I don't even know her name," he finally says. Seems as though it is all he can say.

A gentle pressure goes down against his hand. "So, a mystery for you as well," Genesis says. "You shall have to make a decision on what you will do with it, although perhaps one could view it as a cruel kindness that you could wait until this time in your life to make that choice."

He's not wrong. Sephiroth knows that, if he truly put his mind to it, there is a good chance that he could snoop through the various files in ShinRa. It would be even easier for him than it would be for Gillian or any of her sons. He has the benefit of being First, he has the benefit of rank and obedience. If he tried, he could go through a great many files before anyone would find out. Maybe no one ever would.

But he would have to stay in ShinRa in order to have access to all of that information, and he would have to act exactly in accordance with ShinRa's wishes. On some level, it would be good, he supposes, even beyond his search for the truth. He would be with Lazard, still, and maybe even Rosso could be a constant, if Deepground allowed her more freedom. He would know exactly what to do in this kind of life. It's the only kind of life he knows. There is a kind of welcome simplicity to that, far more than the uneasy unknown which stretches out past Midgar. Past ShinRa, even.

Few people have ever given him a choice. Lazard has, and he knows what Lazard would say. He said it over a week ago, encouraging Sephiroth to leave.

Maybe... Maybe he should. And yet there would still be so much that he would leave behind.

Genesis makes it sound so easy, although it certainly can't have been. Sephiroth wants to ask him about it. Wants to know what made it so easy for him, when he was younger, that he could cut away all that he knew. He is about to ask him, as a matter of fact.

Yet right as he starts to open his mouth, Gillian suddenly appears at the landing, dusting off her clothing. "Alright, finally made it all the way up!" she says, and Genesis jerks his hand back while his mouth does.... some sort of rather interesting movement that doesn't seem particularly normal. Was his face a little pink before? "I'm sorry I kept you waiting, boys. So then, this is the way up past the 60th floor, is it?"

Sephiroth forces himself to stop staring down at his hand where Genesis had been touching just a moment ago. "That's right. At this time of night, there should be guards at the stairs leading upwards. The only problem is my distinctive appearance... but I believe we should be able to make that work."

After all, his appearance is also their ace card, so to speak. If there's something that a simple disguise can't get them through, then his authority should be enough to help.

....Probably, it should be enough to help.

It's just that he's never done this sort of thing before, and Sephiroth knows that he's always been a poor liar. So even though he isn't sure if he shows anything on his face or not, inwardly, he's feeling stiff and awkward as he steps through the door and out onto the floor proper. It is nothing special, this far down, so to speak. Most of it is just an open space designed to look pretty, with a few doors that lead into middle manager offices - places where people may be just close enough to promotion, if they can do a good enough jobs... or throw the right people under the bus.

The people who guard the stairwell to higher floors are just a pair of security guards - Heidegger's men rather than anyone from SOLDIER. Despite that, however - to be exact, despite the tension between the heads of their departments, and perhaps some of the more hot headed members of both - they still jolt up to attention when they see him striding forward. "General Sephiroth, sir!"

He's not a general-

"I didn't think he was a general," Genesis drawls from behind his back, drawing the pair of eyes onto him.

Hm. Perhaps he should stop having them look at Genesis. Even with that brilliant red hair of his tucked away for the present moment, he's still a rather striking person. "We need to get up to the other floors," he tells the two guards plainly.

That much is easy to say. What's a little more difficult is when one of the guards looks to him and says, "Oh, of course, sir. But, can I ask who these people are...?"

Sephiroth knows, technically, what the lie is that they've decided. He just doesn't know how to say it, honestly. Fortunately, he's not the only one here. "Oh, I'm sorry, we never did introduce ourselves, did we?" Gillian says, with all the casual cheer in the world. "I'm Cherry, and this is my boy, Travitz. We were just hired as janitors for some of the higher floors! However, unfortunately, it seems that one of the people who was supposed to give us the right cards sent us the wrong one. We were in quite a jam, really! So fortunate that Mister Sephiroth here thought to help us."

"What floor are you supposed to be helping at?"

"Well, that would be the floor... third from the very top, I believe? I heard that they've been having a rather poor go at keeping people hired there, but I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle!" The two guards, recognizing exactly what location she's referring to, are already starting to go pale. They've heard the horror stories, Sephiroth can tell. Gillian keeps going on cheerfully. "I used to be a butcher's wife, you know, so I'm sure a few science experiment oughtn't give me any trouble! But that's just for me, of course. My son is just helping for a little more spending money on that play he loves so much, so we all thought it best he just stick to the gym floor. It should be a lot of work, but still more enjoyable than a stuffy old lab."

It's kind of incredible, honestly. They've only been speaking for perhaps a couple of minutes at best, and yet the energy that Gillian has put in is almost dizzying. Sephiroth can't imagine doing the same for himself, especially not in a way that has the guards nodding along. "Miss, you should be careful," the other guard warns. "There's a reason that department goes through janitors a lot."

"Oh, I'll be fine, but thank you for showing such concern for an old woman." Stepping around Sephiroth, Gillian pats both their arms. "If anything, promise that you'll be a little easy on my boy if you see him taking advantage of the sauna services up there." Sephiroth can't see her expression, but he can see the way that Gillian tilts her head back and to the side a little. "He's trying to impress someone, you see, he's at that age."

"Mother."

Really, Sephiroth has to admire their acting skills. Genesis is absolutely pink, and refusing to look towards the guards now. Sephiroth could never manage that sort of acting.

And it's certainly doing its job, with the security guards nodding along. "Well, since you have the great Sephiroth with you, there's really no reason to object," says the first guard, although the smile on his face as he looks at Gillian doesn't seem to have anything to do with Sephiroth at all. "Just make sure to get one of the pencil pushers up there with a little free time to get you a card before you clock out for the night."

"Oh, have I been a little too chatty, then?"

"Just a little," the second guard admits, "but it's more for you than it is for us. The more time talking, the less cleaning, and all that, isn't that right?"

This... is probably a good time for him to get back into the conversation, he thinks. "Yes, that's right," Sephiroth says. "So I'll escort them to the next level up. Thank you both for your time."

He's not entirely sure how or when, but Gillian seems to slip right back behind him as they all go through the door. Even before they're entirely up the stairs to the first landing from this floor to the next, Sephiroth thinks he can slightly overhear the two guards still gossiping away. "I almost wonder if you truly needed me at all," he says as they continue up the stairs.

"You were necessary, I promise," Gillian says, adjusting the cap on her head. "Your appearance alone set the stage in a way that we couldn't have managed on our own."

Genesis bumps against his side, although he doesn't really nudge him off balance much. Sephiroth isn't sure it's for lack of trying. "Well, we've done it well enough before," he says, perfectly content in his pride. "But I will admit that you made it just a little bit easier.So, it's just a straight way up then, is it?"

"Yes. Some people without any of the proper authorized cards might find it difficult, but... mine should be enough to get us up to the proper floors." Now that he thinks about it, even when he was taken into SOLDIER, no one ever seemed to be bothered that he had such high clearance... Enough to go all the way to the top, even, so that the President could talk nonsense about how valuable he was to ShinRa, although Lazard always seemed convinced that it was more to admire the result of all his spending into the Science Department.

Yet no one had ever seemed concerned that he could do something terrible. Why would they? He was just one more tool, even moreso than all the others.

It's not as though he's going to go all the way to the top floor and do something wild such as murder President ShinRa, but... even so, he's doing something that they never would have thought their weapon could do. Even moreso than when he and Rosso went through all the different levels.

Not a single soul is around to stop them, as they ascend higher and higher through ShinRa's main building. Even when they step into the laboratories that are right there beneath the President's floors, most have left for the night. This isn't too much of a surprise. Sephiroth knows for a fact that the only person who would work tirelessly deep into the night is Hojo; most others are not so obsessed. Gillian doesn't seem particularly surprised either, only slightly hesitant as she looks through the halls. "Sephiroth... I don't suppose you know which part of the lab would be the safest right now, would you?"

Maybe Hojo wouldn't spare a glance at a pair of "janitors"... but it's another story if Sephiroth is there, he knows, and there's always the possibility that he might recognize Gillian. So Sephiroth leads them to a smaller laboratory, set to the side, a bit away from the holding cells, and Hojo's main haunt. The kind of place where assistants are sent to keep busy, and out of Hojo's way.

Gillian immediately gets to being busy all on her own, without anyone to point her in one way or another. She even almost seems to have an idea of where some things are organized, too. On go a pair of rubber gloves, on goes a mask over her face, everything in order as she takes out the bag with the knife in it. It's a simple enough job that doesn't need him hanging around her, Sephiroth supposes, although a part of him can't help watching anyway as she begins to delicately remove pieces of dried blood for better inspection. 

Genesis has other ideas, however, going about and digging through cupboards, and boxes, and all sorts of things. "They should have containers around here, shouldn't they?" he asks Sephiroth over his shoulder.

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, it would be a waste to be in here and not see what we can borrow - I'm sorry, disrespectfully rob from the alleged greatest minds of this generation." Sephiroth can't help a soft scoff under his breath, and Genesis's smirk grows. "So I think it would do them a fair bit of good if they were given a reminder of what nice equipment they have by not having any of that equipment at all. So help me find some things to put all of this equipment in when we're done here. I'm sure Ma can put it to much better use."

Maybe he's right. Or, rather, Sephiroth has decided that he's right. "I think they'll be in one of the storage rooms nearer to the elevator that goes up from one of the lower warehouse areas," he tells him. "Hold on."

It doesn't take that long, honestly. Various crates, sturdier plastic or metal containers... No matter which laboratory it is, no matter which building it is, there are always plenty of such things around. Sephiroth has known this since a long time ago. It's just that it was always background knowledge that he never thought would be of any use.

If there was any a time he was glad to be wrong, it would be now, as him and Genesis begin to pack various pieces of equipment large and small into the containers. "How are you going to get these out with no one the wiser?" he asks Genesis.

"Oh, we'll manage well enough," Genesis says casually, wrapping up a piece of equipment in a spare labcoat that he found. Probably he could use some of the gowns that are meant for people undergoing tests, but... Sephiroth thinks his idea is better. "If anything, this is a much calmer way of getting our equipment than we've done before."

Sephiroth wonders what that says, coming from a man that went to rescue his mother by slamming a giant dragon summon up against the main building of the most powerful corporation in the entire continent if not the world.

He wonders if he could have gotten away with so much of it if ShinRa wasn't so otherwise preoccupied with its war on Wutai.

Over from the other side of the lab, a hiss slides inbetween Gillian's teeth, drawing his attention. She's pulled away from a microscope, a fist loosely curled against her throat, brow furrowed. She isn't saying anything yet; Sephiroth knows better than to interrupt a scientist at work. "Will she be alright?" he asks Genesis, voice low as he continues working.

Sephiroth isn't the only one looking over to Gillian with a frown on his face; Genesis is very much the same before he forces himself to look away. The smile he puts on in place of the frown seems well practiced. "Ma knows what she's doing," he says, hands back into action. "Whatever it is, she'll be able to figure it out, and in no time at all. For now, well, our work is going to take much longer." And he's right about that, Sephiroth supposes. If nothing else, they have far more to do.

Or, rather, they have just as much to do with all their packing. Gillian is just as busy, taking papers of her own so that she can write down her observations on them. They get folded up carefully, tucked away into thick envelopees and put inside one of the boxes before Genesis and Sephiroth can close it. "Did you find something out about Rosso's blood?" he asks, looking up at the wrinkles which have formed around Gillian's frown.

"With just a blood sample, the only thing I can make are a few theories based on others that I've seen," Gillian explains, although she's still frowning. "I'll be sure to tell you both my own educated guess, but... perhaps not here."

Not here, while they're all right in the lion's den of things, and at risk of being caught out even if the hallways had seemed empty earlier. Sephiroth understands. It just has him wonder when he'll be able to hear this theory, if ever. If this will be the last time that he will see Gillian and Genesis.

His choice looms ever further on the horizon, and Sephiroth knows that sooner or later he'll have to stop just looking.

"Well, it is what it is," Genesis says decisively, standing up and dusting his pants off. "For now, lets finish getting everything we can, and see if we can't perhaps use that elevator Sephiroth mentioned to get us down to the warehouse - I imagine it may be a little easier to get all our very ill-gotten gains out through that rather than a more dramatic way." He sighs. "Unfortunately."

Gillian shoos him off. "Yes, yes, firebrand. Now, go find a trolley or something along those lines, it would look more natural and make things easier to boot."

That only leaves Sephiroth, then, in there with Gillian, and he opts to keep himself busy with stacking the various boxes together methodically. There are so many questions churning within him, having him wonder. "What will you use the equipment for?" he decides on in the end - both because he truly does want to know, curiosity at least something that his childhood fostered well enough, and also because he has no idea how to ask any of the other questions in himself.

"Oh, just about everything, I suppose," Gillian says, moving around the lab and wiping things down - doing her best to get rid of fingerprints that she may have left behind. Sephiroth has a feeling that this is far from the first time she's done such a thing. "Angeal and Genesis need a lot more observation as they grow up, considering everything behind their births." Her voice twists just a little wry. "However, while I was able to steal a fetus with considerable ease, considering that it was growing inside of me, I decided to opt out of carrying laboratory equipment inside of my womb."

Sephiroth makes a noise. Despite his extensive education and knowledge of language, he can't possibly describe what it is.

At least it makes Gillian smile a little, and she glances back over to him. "Quite," she says, as though Sephiroth had made a coherent sound with his mouth that could be understood by other human beings. "But at any rate... For a project like Project G, I was highly tempted to just... hope for the best, and leave it all behind me." Her smile fades, and her attention drifts back down to her cleaning. "I suppose in another life, I would have done just that. This sin of mine... is a great thing to bear."

A sin that weighs down on her heavily... Sephiroth thinks of the detached and cruel ways Hojo goes about his experiments. He thinks about the little he's seen of Hollander, and that Overseer, how neither of them blinks an eye at inflicting cruelty onto another human being so that they can gain - what? Power?

Nonsense, really. Things that Sephiroth has never found to be truly valuable, even as he's been able to cleave through entire platoons of the enemy forces.

Sin. It seems to be a heavy thing, that Hojo and Hollander and so many others in ShinRa never ever bothered to pick up, because why would they? Why would they ever dare to truly take responsibility for that which they have wrought with their own hands?

Gillian looks frail, from where she stands there, her shoulders thin and wrinkles having worked their way across her face from a lifetime of guilt and work.

Gillian looks strong, carrying that which no one else has ever bothered to, of her own volition.

Sephiroth stacks up one more box onto the pile, and finds himself wishing that he had gotten to meet her sooner. That maybe she could have been a part of Project S, and how would his life have changed then?

Something hits the floor outside, and it shakes the ground beneath them.

"Stay here," Sephiroth says immediately, not even thinking twice about taking control as he moves straight to the door. Hojo has plenty of bizarre experiments that he keeps about his various laboratories. Many of them are monsters, things that have been picked up from all over the world that he can poke and prod and discard whenever they bore him. Sephiroth supposes he should count himself lucky that he is one of the few that weren't tossed aside... and now, in hindsight, he supposes he can guess why.

But there's no monster waiting outside when he slips into the halls, his hand on Masamune's hilt. In fact, the hallway directly outside of the lab is completely empty. Sephiroth steps through silently, keeping all of his senses focused on his surroundings.

Noise. Talking, down one hallway, and around the corner of another. He approaches it, deathly silent, and strains his ears.

A voice. Genesis. "As I told you, my good sir, I am simply one of the janitors that has been assigned to help clean the labs up here." Despite the fact that he's supposed to be lying, Genesis almost doesn't seem to be making much of an effort to it, with how dry his voice is. "Were I in your way?"

There's the sound of that falling - no, it's not something falling. It's footsteps, heavy, large. Slow, but more in thoughtfulness, it seems. "Do all janitors speak in such a flowery way?" a deep voice asks, unfamiliar to Sephiroth. Certainly it can't be a scientist, can it?

And only scientists should be up here. Hojo loathes anyone else intruding upon his domain, finding them unworthy of appreciating his work - and he barely finds his own subordinates worthy, to be quite frank.

"Oh, only the very excellent ones," Genesis drawls. "Although let us simply say that my true love is in the arts, and that this is simply a side job that I am taking on as a necessity. Now then, sir, is there something you need of me? A toilet that is unseemly, or a hallway that has particularly offended you?"

Should he step back? Genesis can surely defend himself. Probably, he can defend himself, if he is the kind of man who can summon the King of Dragons himself. But one being skilled in magic does not mean that they are able to defend themselves in hand to hand combat, and the corridors of the science department... Hm. They are certainly large enough for multiple people to fight in them, but that means drawing attention to himself. Would Genesis do that?

...He thinks that Genesis would very possibly burn the entire floor all the way to ground level, now that he thinks about it.

There is a low scoff - dismissive, deep. High? And he means that not in terms of tone or volume, but literal height. Just by judging from the direction of it coming around the corner, the person is certainly taller than Sephiroth. "Someone like you is beneath me, now... But there was to be no one in this upper level, from what I understand. So why are you here?"

No one was supposed to be on this level? Sephiroth frowns to himself, and Genesis must be doing the same. It shows in his voice. "Well, then, that wasn't news that I ever received. Perhaps the grapevine should be expanded a little bit, hm?"

Will this be enough of an excuse? Sephiroth doesn't know. He doesn't know who it is that Genesis is speaking to, and that lack of knowledge rankles at him. Gillian is back in the lab; he can't just abandon her when she doesn't even have her gun on her. But he can't just abandon Genesis either, can he?

And then, interfering before he can make a decision... Another voice, this one just faintly more familiar, speaks up from behind the unknown one. "There is hardly any reason to think on it, Azul. This is Hojo's lab, after all. I wouldn't be surprised if his help turned out to not be very much help at all." There's the click of dress shoes, dreaming far above their current station, and Hollander speaks up again. "Now then, sir, you'd best leave immediately. There is something invaluable happening tonight, and it wouldn't do to ruin such a momentous occasion."

Hollander... Then, if he is here, is the Overseer? Azul... Sephiroth reflects on that. It sounds similar to Rosso's name. Is that a coincidence? She had never mentioned much about such a person... But then, it is Rosso. She rarely has mentioned much about her compatriots in Deepground.

Still, they can work with this, he thinks. He'll run back to Gillian, take the objects himself, get it down to the warehouse while her and Genesis exist through the main entrance-

"Or, actually, why don't you stay?" Hollander says suddenly, as though spurred by an impulsive little thought. "Science is of no use if it is not shown off to the uneducated masses. I am sure Professor Hojo would have no arguments on it." There's a kind of quiet malice in his voice that makes it clear he knows Hojo will have arguments for it, and he's looking forward to the confrontation.

Sephiroth is suddenly understanding exactly why Gillian was able to use Hollander and Hojo's nonsense against one another. They do it of their own accord.

There's the faintest scuff of shoes against hard tile, Genesis's unease clear to him even out of sight. "As honored as I am that you'd want me to see such a grand bit of science, sir, I am afraid that my poor old mother must be feeling quite a fuss, with me being one for even a minute longer than I said I would be. She and I were to clean some of the labs together, you see...."

"Then we can go fetch her. The more eyes for this, the better. I'll make Hojo see that his time in the spotlight has overstayed its welcome."

Blast. Well, the choice is obvious, now. Sephiroth turns, and, with all the silence he's capable of from years of front line warfare slipping into the best position to cause maximum destruction, rushes back to the lab he left Gillian in.

"Genesis ran into Hollander, and someone else with him," he says the second he's through the door. "They're coming this way - he didn't find out about Genesis, but apparently he wants witnesses for something going on between him and Hojo."

Gillian does not swear. She does, however, appear to get very close to it, with the way her skin pales and the sharp inhale between her teeth. "Well," is what she says in the end. "We can't let him see what we're doing here, so I'll step out to meet them. Sephiroth, as quickly as you can, get these packed away, and over to the elevator. We'll work out things as they happen."

Even as he starts packing up the boxes, Sephiroth can see the nerves in her. The way her hands tremble slightly as she pushes more of her hair back underneath her cap, and tugs the bill further down over her face. Makes it harder for other people to recognize her.

Makes it harder, hopefully, for two very specific people to recognize her.

Sephiroth steps to the corner of the room hardest to see from the doorway before Gillian opens it and steps outside - right into the group coming this way, judging by the sound of footsteps coming ever closer. The door clicks shut behind her; Sephiroth holds his breath so that that the sound of his lungs doesn't get in the way of his eavesdropping.

There's some whispering, and then Genesis's voice, louder, a little more counseling - a show for Hollander and the other person. "No, mother, we're not in any trouble. One of the scientists here just wants us to see an experiment, I think. You don't think I'd cause so much trouble just on a quick trip to the bathroom, do you?"

Hollander laughs. Says something inconsequential. There's no shock or surprise or anger or anything of the sort, as far as Sephiroth can tell. No recognition.

Safe.... For now. In a way. But maybe in even more danger than ever.

Sephiroth doesn't think twice about stacking as many of the boxes on top of each other as possible, ignoring weight but not balance. He could go through any of Hojo's labs completely blindfolded, and know every single nook and cranny. Some boxes are hardly an obstacle. Still, he feels so slow. Still, he feels as though he won't be in time enough when he dumps the boxes in the elevator, and then leaves them there. This late at night, he knows no one else will bother with them. Then again, they thought it would be empty this night, too, didn't they...?

ShinRa's grounds are massive. The main building is enormous. Hojo's labs even in this single building could house a small neighborhood, a mansion - the list goes on. Yet despite that, Sephiroth knows exactly where to go, for a man who talks of going to bother Hojo.

The main observation lab. The place where he makes sure to visit the long way around, away from any of the automatic doors. All the way to the manual door, often unused, often forgotten, but much quieter than the hiss of robotics. Even as he steps inside, as he starts to scale up various pipes and equipment to get up to the walkways high above, he can hear the tense conversation going on between the two scientists.

"-rupting my research just for this sad and flimsy display?" Hojo says, arrogant dismissal in every single syllable. A familiar tone; Sephiroth heard it often when Hojo talked about almost anything. Never him. Sephiroth almost wishes he had, but, then, he'd be dead, wouldn't he? "And you've gone and brought mice into my labs. Truly, your presumptuous nature has never known any bounds, Hollander. Even with how far down you've fallen. Even now, I must wonder just how you managed to keep any semblance of dignity..."

Sephiroth pulls himself up onto the metal catwalk, hand moving behind himself automatically to steady Masamune, guide it gingerly between bars and away from any other metal. This is a good view - an aerial of nearly the entire lab, save for what's hidden inside the control center itself. Control, heavily modified so that it can withstand attacks.

And there's everyone he's looking for, right down there in the center.

Hojo, of course, face tilted completely downwards, absorbed or wish he could be in his latest bit of research. Sephiroth assumes that's what's on the clipboard he's studying, at any rate, because it's never anything else. And then there's Hollander, not quite invading Hojo's space but very nearly close to it, Sephiroth thinks. He can't see his face from his angle, but he can see the lowkey tension in his shoulders. No wonder Hojo hates him; he can normally get rid of people who bother him with minimal ease but not when they're a head scientist in their own right. A murder would have to occur, Sephiroth supposes.

And there's the mystery man that he'd heard before. He stands right there behind Hollander, maybe around his or Genesis's age? Angeal's? Certainly he has Angeal's build, tall and muscular. Blue hair, swept back. A stern sort of expression, from what Sephiroth can see.

Most vitally, he's wearing a similar uniform to Rosso, sans the clawed metal gauntlets.

The people most important to him, however, are far behind both men. Gillian seems to be doing her best to hide behind Genesis, head bowed, hand curled up to her chin. Obscuring as much of her face as possible. Genesis is doing likewise, nodoubt to hide the mako in his eyes, although Sephiroth can tell from the tilt of his head that he's still watching everyone carefully.

They're keeping to the outskirts of the face off so far, positioned in the best way to keep an eye on everywhere else in the lab - emergency escape routes, where everything goes, where things come out from, and, of course, the people responsible for keeping them here.

Neither of them have seen him yet. There's no way to ensure they see him, either, because every sound he makes is one that could be heard by -

Sephiroth takes another step. It's deadly quiet, because he knows it needs to be, but, logically, every movement makes noise. He knows that. Most people just can't hear it.

Genesis jerks his head up while no one is paying him any mind, and looks straight up where Sephiroth is standing.

It is only for a brief second, long enough for their gazes to meet and Genesis's eyes to widen in understanding. And then, just like that, Genesis looks back down. Doesn't dally at all. Sephiroth lets out a slow breath, not realizing it'd been something held. Well. He hadn't expected it, but it works out to their advantage, he supposes.

As long as Genesis knows, that's what matters. They can work out everything just with that.

Hojo and Hollander are still arguing. Sephiroth finally tunes back into that conversation, although the arguing seems to be mostly on Hollander's end of things. Hojo rarely seems to degrade himself to the level of arguing. Just arrogance and demeaning others. "So uneager to see true scientific process, are you, Hojo? Now I have to say that's very unlike you. Or perhaps you have to acknowledge that your time is coming to an end up here in this laboratory? I'll admit, I can't fault the quality of the machines."

That finally seems to at least stir Hojo enough to turn back to Hollander, a sneer upon his mouth and nose crinkling. Sephiroth knows exactly what it looks like, even with a vantage point that doesn't actually see it. "Delusional so soon, Hollander? Your little Deepground project, from what I understand, has failed to produce true fruit. I had assumed that so much would become clear after putting your failure of a project next to Sephiroth."

Sephiroth breathes in deep and hard, and holds it. He's talking about Rosso. He knows that much. And this is not the first time, technically, that he has heard Hojo speak ill of her, or any other project which is not Sephiroth.

And yet, something about hearing it now burns white hot in his veins.

While he reins himself in, Hollander scowls over across the man, an expression which carries in his voice. "It's quite something for you to boast of fruit, I have to say, when your own fruit seems to be rotting when it comes to the task at hand. From what I've heard, it seems like your own couldn't even handle a few stray fools who got into ShinRa - whether it was that initial attack or trying to track them down in the aftermath. From what it sounds like to me is that your fair flower is finally starting to wilt. What will you do then, I wonder?"

Silence comes between them, then, and what hangs in the air is not only various cables and steel beams but a far heavier thing that calls itself a bitter little name people gossip about behind the science department's back.

In that space, Sephiroth breathes out again, and it feels a trifle cooler from where it shifts out from his lungs and onto his tongue. As usual, all those passionate feelings of his sink back down into the background of his mind, the mud of his existence, and he can ignore it all again as he focuses on the scene beneath him. It doesn't take long before Hollander speaks up again. "Although I suppose I should be generous. It's why I'm here in the first place, after all, not to get into a silly argument with you. You didn't even ask about the strapping young gentleman that I have with me today."

"There's a reason for that," Hojo drawls pointedly. "And I am far more annoyed at the fact that you have brought rabble into my labs than your latest elementary science project."

Hollander barks a laugh that sounds as though he bit and spat it out. "Can't even remember your own janitors, can you?" he says, and all the little muscles along Sephiroth's legs tense in preparation. At the idea that this may give away Genesis and Gillian, down there below. "Oh, who am I kidding. Of course you wouldn't let anyone into your personal labs." And the tension seeps away again. Hollander is right; janitors are not only beneath Hojo but certain sections of the labs don't even let some security in without good reason. "I simply thought it'd be a little more interesting if there were other people to help collaborate on what I've been saying all this time."

Interesting... What does that mean, exactly? Sephiroth can really only wonder, honestly. He doesn't know much of Hollander, besides that he is an unpleasant man in more ways than one and Sephiroth doesn't like him for deeper reasons than that.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for everyone involved in this moment, Hollander has a mouth and an inclination to use it. He keeps going. "What you've always decided to ignore, Hojo, is that science needs an audience, as much as anything else does. And I think you've become so used to being... secluded that you've missed the fact that you're no longer in the height of your life or your talents, my friend." It's said with a smile, Sephiroth thinks, but said like bile is dripping out from between the teeth at the same time. "Perhaps having some outside sources to witness the difference in our efforts will help you come to terms with that."

Ah. He  wants an audience. Sephiroth understands now, and his gaze flickers briefly to Hojo's unimpressed figure there down on the lab floor as the scientist surveys his would be rival. Although, if it's gotten to this point, then... Perhaps, whether he likes it or not, Hollander essentially is one.

Not everyone can just waltz into the labs like this. Not every "project" can be put into a "trial phase" like Rosso was allowed to be. Clearly the innards of ShinRa are being organized, a messy little vivisection of sorts.

Just imagining himself getting dragged into such a thing, as would inevitably happen, as has been happening... Sephiroth pulls himself away from those thoughts, right in time to hear Hojo respond. "If you think that any difference will occur when you are still lagging so pathetically behind, then I am afraid that you have been isolated from everything far longer than I. My research is far more than yours ever will amount to." There's a pause, and Sephiroth knows the sort of aggravated yet analytical look that Hojo has. He's seen it many a time, when someone from ShinRa's actual business side of things came to interrupt him in the middle of all his experiments and research. It hasn't changed in over a decade. Ever since Sephiroth can remember remembering. "Yet I suppose you will stubbornly insist on showing off the scant amount you have accomplished, won't you?"

"I don't think you would change your mind on a bit of showing off," Hollander says, proving that he does, it seems, know Hojo to some degree. "No, I'm thinking on a bit of a contest, Hojo. Something to prove just what progress has really been made, between the two of us. I mean, look at all this!"

Hollander spreads his arms wide, gestures to the laboratory in all its immense complexity. The machinery, the cables, the wires. He, fortunately, does not look up.

"You have so much at your disposal, but what progress have you really made since you got to this point?" he asks, the challenge clear in his voice. "When was the last time you made such a major breakthrough such as with Sephiroth? When has ShinRa really profited from all your research? In contrast, well..." One hand falls to his side. The other, it goes back to the hulking man standing behind him. Perfect military posture and everything. Sephiroth has to give him credit there, at least. "My Deepground has been making all sorts of strides."

Has it? Sephiroth wonders, since it has never seen the light of day, at least not to his knowledge. He's sure that if it were noteworthy news, then it would have reached the ears of SOLDIER... especially since Rosso, at the very least, seems to not be lacking any combat prowess. Just self control. But then, there's more to ShinRa than the obvious.

Hojo seems to know more about this than he, however, or maybe he just assumes that he knows more. The man scoffs at the declaration, his glasses catching the harsh light of all the fluorescent bulbs hanging over their heads. "Your progress, as always, is merely flashy and nothing else. What would you know of true scientific progress? Still, if you would like to be reminded of just what your place truly is in ShinRa, well... I will have no objections. There are plenty of experiments of mine which might do fine with a minor field trial."

Other experiments.... Sephiroth can only wonder about them, truly. After all...

He knows that no other experiments which pass through Hojo's labs tend to survive, if they were once living creatures at all.

But this seems to be exactly what Hollander was looking for in the first place. Even from his vantage point, Sephiroth can spot the self-satisfied way that his chest puffs up in satisfaction. "Excellent. I suppose the labs are big enough for us to settle things right here, aren't they? If you'll escort me to your control room... Ah, but not you too." This is directed towards Genesis and Gillian, who'd both shifted in preparation to follow him. "No, I think you'd be better off here. After all, we'll need people down here on the ground who will be able to tell us just how things look in person!" There's something shallow and fake in the way that he laughs, even as he heads towards the stairs. Hojo, of course, ignores them almost completely as he follows suit.

Well, it wasn't as though Sephiroth was expecting anything less, honestly. But that does leave them in an awkward situation, and he frowns towards the ground floor where only three figures remain.

If it were just Gillian and Genesis... Maybe he could risk it. He knows this laboratory, like all of Hojo's haunts, like the back of his hand. Once upon a time, it used to be his entire world. Used to be all he ever knew, before he knew what the sky looked like, or what it meant to stand in the cool chill of the rain. On the way towards the control room window, there are at least more than a few blind spots that he could take advantage of, especially with Hojo's tendency to hunch. Hollander doesn't seem to have the same bad habits... but Sephiroth isn't entirely sure if he can see anything past that desperate ego of his.

Azul is the problem, however, even if he barely seems to spare a glance towards either of the two figures that are there with him. While he might not care about them... Sephiroth can tell what kind of person he is just by looking at him. The kind of stiff military personality that might not care about the civilians there with him, but would object, regardless, to them suddenly disappearing... or to someone dropping down from the walkways up high to try and whisk them away.

Just what is he supposed to do? Maybe... Maybe the best thing to do is to just wait for a little bit longer. Depending on which of Hojo's experiments he brings out, that could be enough of a distraction, or made into one, that he would have an opportunity.

It's funny. Sephiroth has been on many a mission, since Lazard helped him escape to SOLDIER. Yet he can't think of a single one that has had his heart in his throat like this, body itching to act before reason.

Towards the center of the room, the reinforced transparent container shudders, and the floor beneath it slides apart with an artificial hiss. Even the air seems to jerk and clunk as the machinery turns along itself, raising up a platform from down below one of the lower levels where all the storage and holding containers are kept. Sephiroth hesitates for only a split second before he moves again, going closer towards the enclosed and raised metal box which constitutes as the control room. There's no getting a good view by just staying in one place.

He needs to know what he's working with.

And what he's working with is.... something wretched. Something the shape of which he can't even distinguish, at first, because it's like no monster that he's ever seen before, no creation of ShinRa's that has been sent out to the warfront. Cobbled together pieces of flesh, stitches ugly and glaring against the harsh shine of metal and glass. Machinery, forcefully attached, the place where it connected still red and sore and scabbed over.

Sephiroth can't tell if it is anything. He can't tell if it knows what it might have once been, ages ago in another lifetime. There is only patchwork pieces crudely pulled together, and a shrill howl as the lights of the lab shines upon its eyes. Sephiroth thinks it still has eyes, at any rate.

Another Hojo experiment.... Another thing all cruelly pulled together, and for what? This isn't the first time that Sephiroth has seen just what Hojo is capable of, but it leaves a far worse feeling in his mouth than he could have imagined.

Maybe it's because, in the end, little separates his fate from that of the creature inside the cage other than simple luck.

Another yowl, the kind of thing that instinctively makes his body react with hairs on the back of his neck standing up electric even if Sephiroth feels no fear in himself. With the way that it's moving, the blood set in its eyes, it must be in unimaginable pain. Unfortunately, he wonders if that means it's incapable of being ordered around as well. Whatever his hesitations, Hojo has none of it, and the door slides open.

"Off you go, then," comes Hojo's voice over the electronic system, nasal in all the worst ways as the speakers squeal unpleasantly; Sephiroth can see Genesis grimace down where he stands.

But there's no need for even a single order. Half mad in pain and the other half in terror, the creature is already in the process of lunging out. Yet it does not go towards Azul's hulking form. Of course not. Why would it, when Gillian and Genesis present a far more appealing set of targets, all slim and dressed so plainly?

Sephiroth grips Masamune. Genesis shoves Gillian behind his back, one arm raising as though to brace for impact, or maybe something else. Materia in his pocket?

It doesn't matter, in the end.

Azul suddenly lunges forward, the immense length of his arm making up for his lack of speed, and his fingers are there at the creature's throat instantly.

Something animalistic in its own right is yanked violently from his throat as his feet slam into the ground, muscles tense and rippling as he hauls the creature out from midair and throws it across the entire lab. For just a brief moment, as he's turning his head, his body, Sephiroth thinks he can see something on Azul's face. A kind of violent joy, the kind belonging to men who adore war and nothing else. He's seen that face many a time, out on the battlefield - both opposite of him, and besides him.

Well. Judging by Rosso and now Azul, Sephiroth supposes that Hollander has at least made the right choice in his subjects.

The expression vanishes in an instant, replaced by sheer concentration, as he approaches the monster that's already up on its feet. With the two of them preoccupied, Genesis and Gillian waste no time. Sephiroth makes sure to watch their backs as the two immediately rush right over to the door they came through. Yet it's no use. Even before Genesis hisses out a swear underneath his breath, Sephiroth can see how Gillian's hands strain against the doors. They're locked.

Of course they're locked. By Hojo or Hollander, it doesn't really matter. It's all in the name of the same thing. Sephiroth narrows his eyes, gaze flicking back to where Azul and the experimental patchwork of a monster are both fighting. All sorts of complex mechanical things, hidden in its new additions. Some of them look... dangerously close to straying.

Should he lunge down now, while Azul is preoccupied with fighting against that monster? Slice the door straight open? But if he does that, it may very well become clear just who is responsible for the escape. Nothing cuts like Masamune cuts, after all.

A burst of fire suddenly bursts through the air, slamming high into the wall high above Genesis's head, and the man curses much more loudly. "Can your wretched excuse for a science experiment do even a simple thing like aim!?" Genesis snarls out towards the room at large, taking position at Gillian's back so that nothing can get to her. With how panicked the monster seems to be as it lashes out not only at Azul but anything in reach, it's a wise choice. "What sort of nonsense is this!"

A click, static, that high squeal like something that should be dying. Genesis's jaw twitches as the speaker comes to life once more. Of course they're listening in on all of this. There's nothing less surprising. "While such high level academia may be beyond you," Hojo drawls, just as unable in the end as Hollander to resist the call of arrogance, "there is more to an experiment than what you can comprehend."

Azul is lasting quite a while against Hojo's monster, speaking of which. Probably longer than Hojo would like, if Sephiroth knows the man, and he unfortunately knows him quite a bit. It'd be nice, hearing that thinly veiled tension in his voice, if not for the situation. But the situation is still at something of a draw, down on the floor...

"Oh, so the fool's gold of a scientist dares speak of comprehension," Genesis mocks, voice carrying higher than the smoldering embers which are falling down to him and Gillian from above. Fortunate that they're wearing hats. "There is no experimentation on display  here, for either of you ignorant pigs wallowing about in your own filth! All there is would be copied work, put up again and again with no thought, and trash thrown together in a pile of glue. And this is what ShinRa is giving all their money to?"

Silence and the faint crackling of electricity is all that emerges from the speakers for a few moments. Sephiroth smiles. Down on the floor, engrossed in his battle, Azul manages to get closer and one massive fist snaps around the creature's maw.

Hollander seems to regain his composure first; impossible to tell if he and Hojo are fighting over one mic or if there's another one being used. "Well then! That's quite a mouth you have, for someone in a janitorial position."

"You trapped us in here while a death match was going on, you fucking backwards turnip."

Just a hint of some sort of accent clips at his words, there, but Sephiroth is only paying that so much mind. Rather, he's focusing once again on the battle happening, where Azul has managed to gain the upper hand. Blood rivers down his exposed shoulders. Saliva coats and drenches the strained fabric of his shirt. Nothing, not a thing, stops him from hauling the beast up over his head to slam it hard and cracking against metal floors. Sephiroth's ears ring. It keens high and long there in his skull, nearly blocks the sound Azul's boot makes when he slams his foot straight into the creature's throat, further, presses down until the crisp snap of its neck breaks through all the ringing.

Hollander makes a noise, all hollow curiosity and interest. At Genesis's words? At Azul's victory? Hard to say, without seeing the man's actual expression. "And here I had thought you would be more grateful, getting to see the advancement of science at this stage when you're working such a menial job. Well, it's as that old saying goes: there's no accounting for taste."

There's something else on the speakers, some sort of background muttering that must be Hojo. Hollander's own voice grows fainter, clearly directed away from the mic and towards his unwilling fellow scientist.

As though Sephiroth needs to hear his exact words in crystal clarity to foresee the next words that come over the speaker. "Still, I hope you do understand... If you can't appreciate all the work that I've done-"

More hazy commentary in the background from Hojo, the insults carrying all the sharpness in the world even if distance from the microphonee dulls them. He's objecting to Hollander commandeering things, or maybe arguing about the purpose of his experiment, or a dozen other things.

Hollander just keeps going, voice rising, the squeal of the speakers matching him. "-Well, it's only natural to make sure that you don't end up like those spies which got into ShinRa but a few weeks ago! Can't risk such important information like our experimental process getting out, whether to the public or corporate rivals, you know."

Genesis goes still. His shoulders grow tense, and he seems to lift himself up, almost, with how deep his breath is. "You were always going to get rid of us like this," he says, voice eerily calm despite how fiery he is.

Because of course. Of course. Sephiroth looks to Azul, straightening up and rolling his neck with the creature spasming still at his feet. If Azul had lost, no doubt that Hojo and Hollander would have simply refused to unlock the doors, and allowed it to maul - or try to - Genesis and Gillian.

Yet Azul did win. And so when Hollander speaks again, it is directed not towards the two faux-janitors, but rather the hulking man who's observing this with the kind of disinterest reserved for dull concrete. "Azul. Get rid of our unappreciative guests. You should be able to do that much, even after a minor tussle like that."

Gillian is still slamming at the control panel with whatever she has available -  mostly her elbows, and her fingers trying to pry it off its place on the wall. It's no use; nothing can dislodge that. Certainly nothing about her actions seems to worry Azul, with the slow and confident way he strides forward. There's not even a glimpse of hesitation, a moment's thought, to the fact that he's being asked to kill someone simply for the crime of being asked to be in a place and then getting punished for it.

Sephiroth renews his grip on Masamune, and he steps forward, ready to leap down, get rid of the enemy in a heartbeat. It would take one swing. Even from here, he supposes he could do it, and, amidst the confusion of the scientists, slice open the door, make a break for it-

Stepping forward, Genesis shakes his head. One might argue it is for Azul. Sephiroth knows that it is for him. His hand stills. Masamune stays sheathed.

And Genesis says, with a deceptive casualness to his voice, "You know, I had always heard that ShinRa forged such obedient workers. Made me wonder just who on earth would work there, that they wouldn't even question a single order. I suppose with you, I now have an answer. Before you raise a hand to me and my dear mother there behind me, won't you allow me one final question to ask?" Genesis doesn't wait for an answer; Sephiroth suspects he doesn't wait for answers even in non-threatening situations. "What exactly would make you obey the order to kill an innocent mother and her son, without a single bit of hesitation? I can't imagine the ShinRa pay for lab experiments is that good."

The words don't make Azul stop in his steadfast and slow walk, not immediately, although he pauses there not too far from Genesis. His head cocks to the side. Perhaps partially in curiosity. Perhaps partially to see if any further instruction or refusal comes forth from the speakers.

None do. Perhaps the scientists there in the control room see no reason to deny such a thing. Perhaps they're so busy bickering with one another and over what a true victory is. Either way, when nothing is instructed to him, Azul seems to actually speak just for himself when he answers, "What you are hardly matters to me. This is a world ruled by the powerful, as I'm sure we both know... and in this world, there is nothing more powerful than ShinRa, with all its weapons and all its progress." He raises up one hand, clenches it into a fist. Every bloody tear the monster had dug into his arms in their battle has already healed, for the most part. "SOLDIER is no better example of that, is it not? Producing such people such as even General ShinRa."

"He's not a general," Genesis mutters. Sephiroth smiles.

Azul doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps care. "And to be chosen for a project that will produce something even greater than SOLDIER? Something stronger? It could be nothing less than the purest honor."

What a shallow answer. What an unsurprising answer. Truly, Sephiroth has seen so many men like him, down in SOLDIER. Lazard has never been particularly impressed by them. ShinRa has only found them to be useful tools. Perhaps Genesis thinks similarly, because he crosses his arms in front of his chest for a moment. "So just that," he says at last. "Well then. As I said. Reach for me, as you wanted to do from the start."

Anyone else would see it for some sort of trick. Yet Genesis looks like nothing there, superficially, with his hands fluttering to the side in a "go ahead" gesture and his janitorial uniform so simple and plain. Azul seems to think little of him, truly, although he at least has the intelligence to reach fast, a small lunge all its own.

Unfortunate that he lunges right into Genesis's own boot.

The boot that has slammed in right between his legs, with Genesis having sidestepped that hand completely with it but a few inches away.

Whatever noise Azul makes is.... unintelligible. Choked and strangled most thoroughly. "Ah, but I am afraid that all you are permitted to do is reach," Genesis drawls. "Like a bug towards the sun shining bright in the sky. To fully grasp me is rather above your station." And just like a whip, his arms snap around Azul's own, and, as though he were but a simple and heavy sack of potatoes, he whirls around and flings him right back to where he stepped from. Azul bounces with the effort, grunting and snarling, hitting the monster where it lays.

Even with what had just happened, Azul still tries to get up - but unfortunately, Hojo's experiments prove to have some merit after all. Whether from death spasms or to something more profane that was done to its body, it jerks, electric. Limbs that were twitching and helpless but a moment ago suddenly latch onto Azul's body. Blood wells and spills out from the unbridled force where claw and metal dig in.

Dead yet not yet gone, the monster gurgles, and drags a snarling Azul back down to the floor.

By then, Genesis is already moving, whirling around and pulling - of course - a materia out from his uniform pocket. In the blink of an eye, Gillian dives downwards, and pure fire blows apart the doors that have kept them trapped all this time.

"Let's go!" Genesis calls, dashing forward to scoop Gillian up onto her feet. Yet, somehow, it doesn't feel like just her he's calling out to. Down in the control room, there's yelling, bits of it coming piecemeal through the speaker system, a door slamming open - and this is his chance, he can tell. Sephiroth swings himself over the railing, braces his foot against the very edge of the platform, and bursts downwards, hits the floor in one off those perfect little blindspots he knows so well. Azul is still prying the experimental monster off of him; Sephiroth doesn't give him a chance to so much catch a glimpse of his hair before he bursts through the still smoldering doorway as well.

With his and Genesis's speed, they manage to nearly make it all the way to the elevator before the alarms start blaring. "I'm sorry," Sephiroth says, as the three of them nearly crash into all the boxes that he had placed there earlier. "I should have acted sooner."

Gillian pats his arm. "There's no need to apologize for the evil actions of others," she says, while Genesis jabs his elbow into the buttons and the door slides shut. When the redhead's arm pulls away, the button for the highest floor shines bright. "Besides, well, sometimes you can't help but have hope that things will turn out neatly even in the face of fools and braggarts."

Fools and braggarts. Sephiroth wonders which of those is for Hojo, and which of those is for Hollander. Perhaps both. Likely, it's both.

That's not really the concern right now, however. Instead, Sephiroth's hand finds Masamune once again, staying there as the elevator shudders to a stop. The doors slide open to nothing but vast and dark space, however, residue light from the city past massive windows proving the only thing to fight past all the gloom.

"Apparently, the good President ShinRa is rather preoccupied tonight with a little get together," Genesis says from behind his back, before the elegant drawl of his words is broken up by a faint and discontent grunt as he pushes their boxes of things forward. "Something to do with slicking up the press again, working up ShinRa's power, downplaying all problems." When Gillian and Sephiroth step out of the elevator as well, Genesis turns with the materia raised high in his and once again.

The flames, this time, are a little more... focused. Careful and narrowed into a thin beam, sealing shining metal shut and making it so dull that not even city lights can make it shine again.

Genesis smiles, the expression like a gash upon his lips, all vicious and sharp. "If only I could see the look on his face when he gets the message that his little tower has been broken into once again. Oh, the imagination just does not do it justice." And that single word, justice, sounds as sharp as his smile looks.

While Genesis covers the entrance, Gillian is already at their exit, unlocking the door and gesturing for Sephiroth to come over with all the boxes. "Well, I had hoped it wouldn't come to this," she says, as they all step out into the chill air above the city. "But I had to assume that it might. I suppose I should be glad we got as far as we did." She reaches up, tugs at her cap so that it sits a little more snugly about her head again. ShinRa's main building stretches high up; the wind threatens to yank things away. "My little firebrand, I think we'll have to amend some things. You and Bahamut, you should take everything and go ahead, out of the city. Get it on the right track back."

Just the start of those words has Genesis bristling upwards, head jerking to stare at her in wide eyed shock, something almost like betrayal except a little softer. A little more delicate. "Ma, no, I couldn't! That would leave you here, in this wretched city."

Tongue. Teeth. Vocal chords. They all jumble together, a disorganized mess, before Sephiroth remembers how to speak as well. "I'll stay with you," he says, suddenly, almost before he quite realizes what he's said. What that means.

It's just... Maybe he's always known this was the choice he was going to make, even with all of his hesitation.

Genesis stares at him, as though dazed from whiplash. Probably, repetition isn't what's needed here, and yet Sephiroth repeats himself - as though enough of the same words will make it something tangible and real. "I'll stay with you." A breath. Did the air up here feel cold? He can't remember. It's hard to focus on such trivial things. "And I'll go with you as well. But... I won't let you stay behind, and be at so much risk."

So long ago, when he couldn't even walk properly, couldn't even be considered a person, the man he'd cared for most in his small little life had left. Left, and gone somewhere unknown to him, somewhere even now Sephiroth isn't sure he'll ever find again.

He'd been too young, then, to do anything about it of course.

He's not young now. And he thinks.... He thinks that if he lets all of them slip through his fingers, Gillian and Genesis and Angeal, then he'll never be able to find them again. He'll never be able to get any answers, and he'll never be free of ShinRa.

Both routes have people he has grown to care about, care more intensely and sincerely than he's ever been allowed to in his life. In this, knowledge, and freedom... Or familiarity, and comfort... Those are the only differences. And maybe, just maybe, if he is fortunate, then he'll be able to return to ShinRa one day, and Lazard and Rosso will still be here.

If he is fortunate.

Sephiroth isn't sure if he was ever born fortunate. But perhaps it is proof of fortune enough that he can look at Genesis and Gillian and say, "So please, let me come with you."

Shock fades away from Genesis's face, and he smiles at him. A warm kind of smile, as though it belongs at a campfire. "Well, who are we to ward off a weary traveler," he says, and tucks the first materia he used away into his jacket pocket again. What he pulls out next is a materia of a different sheen.

"Not that you ever had to worry about leaving her behind," says a voice from somewhere behind Sephiroth, somewhere low, and he whirls around. With wide eyes, he stares at the sight of one broad hand reaching up onto the ledge, and then there's Angeal, hauling himself up over the edge. Just like the night that they first met, his mouth is covered, and he's dressed all in blacks and grays, his hair pulled back into a short ponytail. He sweeps stray strands of his hair out of the way as he straightens up. For all that his mouth is hidden, there's something brighter than mako in his eyes as he looks at them. "I was always going to be here, although it looks like Genesis fussed."

Genesis scoffs, stepping up onto a ledge and flourishing his materia hand. "Oh, you're an absolute liar," he says decisively. "I simply worried that you had gotten all mixed up as you'd climbed the entirety of the building, or a bird may have flown into your head."

Down in the immense office and showcase that is President ShinRa's office, there's the whirring of the elevator. The strain of metal trying to pry itself apart to do the proper duty of doors in the face of molten metal.

Gillian's hands clap together, sharp and decisive, before she uses them to haul up some of the boxes. "Well, things are all decided, so get ready, Genesis. Lets get you all ready to go. I think that ShinRa, alas, seems to have ideas on how to get past melted shut doors."

They do, as it turns out. Even with three sets of hands getting the various boxes all set up on the ledge, metal begins to scream at the pressure from inside. Azul, or another monster? Hard to say right now, not when Sephiroth's attention is focused more on handing over the last box. "Are you sure that Bahamut will be able to carry all of this?" he asks.

A wink isn't exactly a solid answer, but Genesis fortunately follows up with actual words. "Oh, the claws of the Dragon King are far larger than you might think. This paltry amount of items will be safe and sound with us." He pauses, briefly, and then reaches out to rest his hand on Sephiroth's shoulder. "I'll be gone, for a bit, to get all of this squared away... So do take care, and not be in a worse state than I see you right now when next we meet."

When they next meet... Sephiroth's heart does a peculiar little flutter in his chest. When he and Genesis next meet, there is a high chance that it will be out of Midgar. That they will meet on the barren lands directly outside of the city, or the massive expanse of plains all across the continent, and there will be no leash from ShinRa on him.

"I will see you then," he says, smiling right back at him.

Metal screeches and crumples, crashing against all that nice tile which makes up the President's office. That's Genesis's cue, runes and magic circles burning brighter than any city light which glimmers beneath them. And Bahamut, whose scales reflect all those light - he's bigger, in some ways, than the city. Genesis is on his back in a heartbeat, those massive claws indeed able to take in all of the boxes well enough. It's... far from the most secure way of travel, but that's not Sephiroth's problem for now.

His, and Gillian, and Angeal's problem is the figure who hunches down through the elevator entrance, pushes his way through. There's a sort of golden glow to his eyes that makes him look more intimidating than Sephiroth thinks he is. "So... This is where you've gone." To his credit, as he looks past them to where Bahamut launches away, there's no signs of any fear or hesitation. A proper soldier, even if not SOLDIER.

Angeal steps forward, stays there right before the doorway that leads out to the rest of the massive balcony the President so often gets to enjoy. Enjoy a little less, maybe, with massive clawmarks in the concrete. "It's where they've gone," he confirms casually. Sephiroth takes Gillian by the arm while Angeal has their opponent's attention, takes her away from the door. "Not that you'll get to see much more past all of that, I'm afraid. Now, I'm a man of honor. I'll give you this one chance to just... stay right there. Don't get involved with us, and it will be far easier for everyone involved. Especially you."

As Sephiroth takes Gillian away from the conversation, Azul going out of sight, he doesn't hear exactly what the man answers in response. He doubts it will be a surrender, but who knows? Not him.

Not him, because there's an explosion suddenly ringing in his ears, and brilliant flames catch his attention. A look over to his left, and there's a helipad with smoldering wreckage burning there brightly. The nearest helipad to all of them, as a matter of fact, and which Bahamut is flying away from.

That's one way to take care of any potential pursuers.

"I suppose there's only one way to go down, now, isn't there?" Gillian says, leaning over the ledge with a frown. "I know there's a lot that you have been trying to be slow about, Sephiroth, so if you simply wanted to do some leaps down..."

That would likely be a perfect fine way to make their way down. Angeal, after all, very clearly scaled the entire tower in preparation of meeting the group this way, or going down to see them if things had turned out better. Sephiroth and Gillian most certainly have a much faster journey if they simply plummeted, with him only stopping with the occasional grab of a window or ledge or anything else.

Behind them, around the corner, there's the sound of flesh and bone cracking into something a lot more solid. When Sephiroth looks behind them, he manages to just barely see a part of Angeal's person as the man shifts his grip - an open palm sliding around Azul's wrist, hauling him around as though he's but a doll. The last Sephiroth sees of Azul, the man is sailing over the ledge on the opposite side. Likely he'll recover - but it's a pleasant sight regardless.

"No," Sephiroth says, and carefully takes Gillian into his arms. Takes her in a perfect mimicry of how he saw Angeal do it, holding her secure and careful. "There's an easier way to do it." A way that will make sure he doesn't drop her for even a second.

His decision really was made a long time ago. His normal SOLDIER uniform doesn't account for three wings, stretching wide and out as they do now in the city air, but the shirt he'd put on for tonight? Those... have been modified, just a little bit, enough that there's nothing which stops them, nothing that restricts them. All that greets them is the air of the city as he dives down, off the opposite side of the building, so that Azul will not be able to spot a single thing if he's somehow managed to cling to the side of the building still. A heavy beat of wings, and he can tell that Angeal follows him.

By the time they finally land - a distance away, atop various thick pipes that lead to one of the nearer reactors - the entirety of the ShinRa building is alight and screaming with its alarms.

"Hoo!" Gillian plucks off her hat and fans herself with it, although it doesn't seem to do much for the sweat that's gathered upon her brow. They'd all made a mad dash in their escape, but Sephiroth doesn't think that's the reason there's a sheen there which has all her softly curling hair stick to it. "They'll be sending a good deal after us. Tuck things away, boys, and lets keep going. I'm not sure how much time we really have for ourselves, even if they'll just be sending out last minute troops."

The wings slide in, smooth and easy. At least one thing will be, tonight. "Then lets go," he says, and lets Angeal pick her up this time. Gillian may be able to run, but, well, he doesn't think she has military training - or whatever it is that Angeal and Genesis have done to get as good as they are. "We can stay on the pipes like this. They'll get us into the underbelly of some of the plants around here, and make it harder for them to track us down."

What, with their mobility by air now slightly burned and most cars on the ground not able to follow where all the pipes go... It is their best course, at least for right now, as far as Sephiroth can tell.

The downside, of course, is that a small group of people running along the pipes is rather conspicuous. Sephiroth can hear the distant sounds of boots stomping, yelling, the clatter of guns and armor. "You're a pretty distinctive guy, you know," Angeal calls over his shoulder, as they leap off the junction where pipe disappears into concrete. There's a door right down there, and Angeal kicks it open without a single moment of thought. "Are you sure you're not worried about how everyone is going to recognize you?"

"It can't be helped." There was no time to properly prepare for this sort of thing; the situation didn't allow for it. "I'll change my appearance once we get out of all of this."

And at this rate, this may be the building they've run into as much as the entire situation. Alarms suddenly begin blaring through the building, a lower and more stuttering sort than the high class ones which ShinRa's main building boasts. Monsters start to scramble and claw their way up over pipes, creatures that were probably kept stored away for emergencies like this just in case the plants were targeted as well... Or maybe there were always plans to keep them as an updated security system, after Gillian's first break in. SOLDIER never heard anything about it, but the other departments don't have to tell SOLDIER anything.

There's no problem no matter how many creatures scramble out wildly for them. Masamune finally is unsheathed, after so many close calls tonight, and not a single thing lasts with one swing of his hand. "The walkway here leads to an outside section," he calls back, the vanguard for the two of them as they keep running. "And there should be a route leading to the right that will get us out of here."

Plans, however, don't always go according to plan.

The air rushes past him as they break out into the intersection, and Sephiroth makes that sharp right turn only to stop, immediate, abrupt. Public security forces are slamming open the door, guns and swords already raised. "Well, damn," Angeal says behind him, and Sephiroth manages a quick glance back. His companion had made a go at the left choice, but it's the exact same scenario there.

Too slow. Or maybe ShinRa had more people prepared just in case than they expected.

"Put your weapons down peacefully and surrender yourselves," the man in front of him barks, before there's a moment of hesitation, of recognition. "Sir?"

And this is it, isn't it? The point of no return. Sephiroth breathes out, patient and steady, backs up until he can hear Angeal's own footsteps right behind him. Can hear the way that Gillian is set down onto the walkway by the impact of her feet. "I have an idea," Angeal says to him. Neither of them are looking at each other. "Give me a blade."

Sephiroth lunges forward, Masamune tucked away so that its blade finds no one, no flesh, stays perfectly out of the way as he whirls around with his boot going straight into the Security Force soldier that stands in his way. Behind him, there's the clatter of feet, heels hitting metal stairs deep within the stairwell all these forces came from, but the soldier goes crashing through so many of his compatriots from the force of Sephiroth's kick. There's yelling, cursing, something distantly familiar snarling past it all, but Sephiroth is already pulling back the sword that he'd grabbed from another soldier's waist.

"Catch!" he calls back, throwing the sword first, and then following it quickly after with a hard leap that takes him right back to the others. With him and Angeal together, they could probably tear through all of this in a heartbeat. Tear through the entire building at the same time, with as little resistance.

But he doesn't want to do that. Doesn't want to tear through people just doing their jobs, people who could never have expected this.

He can only hope that Angeal has a plan that isn't violence.

Angeal's plan is this: "HOLD ON TIGHT!" And he slices through the very floor beneath their feet.

Under Angeal's hand, even a simple Security Force regulation sword slices through metal as though it were mere child's play going through air. Sephiroth's heart lodges into his throat from sheer surprise and perhaps movement as his entire body jerks down along with the metal platform. On either side of them, the soldiers scramble back as the metal beneath their feet creaks with the sudden absence of something that was theirs. There's more yelling and snarling from the side Sephiroth is facing.

One more slash, the final severance of where the metal clings, and they fall. Him, and Angeal, and Gillian holding on tight.

And as he falls, the person who has been snarling all this time finally shoves her way past so many security bodies to the point that she nearly tosses two different people over the railings. Leaps over heads, body checks shoulders, scrambles to the edge where jagged metal lays, but he is already falling.

He is already falling as he stares up and meets Rosso's eyes, her expression incomprehensible.

Her expression in shadow, framed by the red of her hair. Pierced by the red of her eyes.

Sephiroth feels nothing else, thinks of nothing else, while that burning red figure still stands there at the edge of the metal walkway. And then, finally, that red figure disappears, through simple and sheer distance.

And that is around the time that Sephiroth's shoulder clips a jutting piece of machinery which makes up so much of Midgar's innards.

Existence, reality, hits him with that little reminder, and another thing that hits him would be a piece of falling debris that tumbles off of somewhere. He reorients himself, takes in the sound of Angeal's yelling, and finally, finally, remembers to adjust himself so that he is getting hit with significantly less things as he dives through everything that Midgar is.

Midgar is metal. Midgar is spaces so cramped that they can't unfurl their wings. Midgar is emptiness, emptiness which swallows them neatly, welcomes them through the cracks, until they fall into such wide open space.

But it's too late to stop. Sephiroth isn't even facing downwards when he hears the sound of Angeal's body crashing through something fragile, something wooden, and then he's following right after, making the hole even bigger. Following right as he hits not cruel stone or unforgiving metal, but something softer. Something that send softness fluttering about their faces, their bodies, and Sephiroth coughs, staying right there on the ground with his only movement being to lay on his back.

He opens his eyes to find sunlight filtering through. To a giant hole in a wooden ceiling held up by stone that's been here longer than he's been alive. To flower petals, gently wafting down from the air they'd been tossed to, and coming to a rest on his face, in his air.

Footsteps. A shadow over him, blocking out the sunlight.

Aerith reaches up, moves Sephiroth's sunglasses from her face to the top of her head. "You ruined my garden," she says, matter of fact, before she smiles. "I knew we'd see each other again."

Breath. Sephiroth remembers it, and closes his eyes. "Hello, Aerith."