Gun AU - Chapter 10

[warmskies]

Even though the fires have long been extinguished, even though the force of his swings blew away all heat from him, Sephiroth still feels something that seems to burn around him as he stands there, and stares up at the woman who was his partner, no matter how temporarily. "Rosso," is all he can say, for a moment.

She laughs. She tilts her head back and laughs, but there is no actual mirth in it. There is nothing similar to this laugh and those she would make in delight after they had cleared through another trivial little mission meant to keep them occupied. "Well!" she exclaims, voice high, mocking, and she leaps down from the massive piece of pipe in the trash. "How pleased you must have been, to make that very first escape. Let us see if fortune is on your side this time, Sephiroth."

In hindsight, Rosso's involvement here... Things are making sense, now. Especially the smoldering wreck that's all around them. "Rosso... What are you doing?"

Her boots click against the piles of trash and decimated pieces of piping, a loud cling with every leap downwards. "Oh, I am only doing my duty, am I not?" she asks, voice mocking and sweet. "To get the grand traitor. What else is a weapon to do?"

"...This has nothing to do with being a weapon."

Rosso lands there on the ground before him, and the smile falls from her face. Leaves something flat and cold and biting in a way that's only a prelude to her using her actual teeth. "It should be clear exactly what this has to do with," she says, voice low and full of something dark. Something Sephiroth unfortunately has a name to, although it makes him miserable to think of it. "But come then. One final little battle between us. I think it has long since passed the time for play, and I should settle my victory for what it is."

Maybe, in some ways, this is inevitable. Sephiroth suspects it might be. It was a short amount of time, their partnership, and yet, in some ways, he thinks he knows Rosso better than himself. Even still. Even still, he shakes his head. "I don't want to fight you, Rosso." If anything, if he could just take her with them as well now that they're far away from all the others -

But it's Rosso. And Rosso's red eyes flash in warning, her fingers winding hard around the grip of her weapon. "How dare-"

He's expecting a shot. Or maybe a slash in his direction. Rosso actually has a fair amount of flexibility in her combat style, one that makes her a danger both long and short range. His legs even tense up in preparation for it.

...But it doesn't happen. Rosso, surprisingly, regains some control of herself, and pulls back with a breath hissed out between clenched teeth. And then - she smirks. Cocks her head to the side. "I see. I suppose that you ran instead of carving a path through all of ShinRa was clue enough for this. But my dear partner, I thought of that too." She hauls her weapon up to her shoulder again, and actually turns away from him. "You want the best view of ShinRa's little gathering, don't you? Come now. I'll be generous and show you exactly what it looks like."

This is a trap. Sephiroth has been on at least enough missions to tell this much, and gone through even many more simulations besides. And yet, he can't tell just what kind of trap it is. In some ways, that might make it even more dangerous.

Despite knowing that... He grips Masamune in his hand, and follows Rosso's lead as she leaps from metal to metal, car to deposited dumpster, both of them easily enough finding their footing as they ascend.

It really is a high vantage point, or at least as high as one could hope for down in the slums. Certainly higher than many of the buildings even in some of the areas which might call themselves residential. The entire trip there, short as it may be, Sephiroth expects Rossso to turn and simply try to shoot him down. In their time together, he knows that she's not above taking sneak attacks if she thinks it suits her. Yet Rosso stays her hand, simply going to her own perch and gesturing with her one free hand. "See? Truly, you got ShinRa all worked up. They put this much work into you, after all."

And he can see. He can see the various troops even better from here. See how Deepground's handler looms in the background, where few look at him. See how SOLDIER and security forces hold an uneasy alliance like this.

But he knows that none of this is what Rosso truly wants him to see.

What she wanted him to see, he knows, is the familiar figure who stands stoic and rigid on Azul's other side, clad in a familiar blue suit and tie, blond hair not nearly as done up as it would be if he were truly more composed. Director Lazard stands there amidst all the rubble, and stands in no way comfortable.

"...The Director of SOLDIER shouldn't be involved in field missions," he says quietly.

Rosso shrugs, sharp, uncaring. He thought she'd look more at him, with that razor sharp way she focuses in on her target, but all she does is keep her focus downwards. "Oh, those higher on the chain thought it would be good for him," she drawls. "And so did he, I heard. After all, with his best First Class SOLDIER running off all on his own... Why, it makes him look so very bad, doesn't it? At least, this is what I understand. It matters little to me."

"And... what does matter to you, Rosso?"

Ross just smiles. "Oh, that is a simple thing, you know," she says, and she raises her dual gunblade up with only one hand. But she doesn't raise it at him.

Sephiroth is fast - but he's not fast enough to beat a trigger finger, not fast enough to stop Rosso from taking a shot aimed directly at Lazard, a burn of bright sheering flame. He can barely see the way the rest of the security forces react, how the shot hits Azul straight in the shoulder, because he's already moving. He's already lunging for her, Masamune carving an arc through the air, and Rosso is laughing, kicking off from her perch and going straight to the ground.

"Why!?" The word tears out of his throat, an accusation, even as Rosso braces against half of a schoolbus, braces herself to send a hail of rounds right towards him.

It's only as he's ducking, bursting down towards the ground again to find cover before she has to readjust herself and that massive weapon, that she bothers to snarl out an answer to him. "Take up that blade of yours, Sephiroth! Fight me!" There's the heavy thudding and clacking of her weapon being hauled up over her shoulder again, her giving chase. "I will not let you run away like a coward once more!"

And this is how she is. He always knew that, didn't he? It never even had to go this far, with him trying to chase her off with a swing, and Rosso sliding - she knows him too well now. He knows her too well.

This was never an encounter Rosso would let come to pass without a clash of their blades. She'd tear down the entire slums, bring the plates crashing down on their heads, if that was what it all took. Those holes up above their heads are a testament to that.

A testament he never needed.

There's no talking to her, when she's like this. Sephiroth tries regardless, but he's barely able to get a syllable out before Rosso presses forward again, ups her assault. Gets all the more aggressive. Their blades crash against each other, so hard as to cause ringing in his ears, and he barely notices. In some ways, it could almost be comforting, the two of them having this dance, him dodging her shots, their blades locking.

It's what they used to do with one another every afternoon, for a week that could have been a dream. But there's nothing comforting about this.

Not when Rosso genuinely swings her blade towards his neck.

Sephiroth isn't wholly sure how long the two of them go at it. In some ways, just the act of hitting their blades together again and again feels as though it could go on into eternity. In other ways, the ways where his mind keeps a firm track on grounded reality, he knows it is only a few minutes before his ears catch the sound of heavy metal clunking against itself down the large path. Sephiroth grits his teeth, accepts Rosso's swing, if only so that he can twist his feet, twist them, and throws her back with all of his might behind Masamune's.

It gives him just enough time to leap back from the ear-piercing assault of a minigun, dodging the various round which kick up dirt and rebound off of metal, sink into trash. It's a troublesome kind of enemy, although one Sephiroth is sure he could slice through if he really needed to - but there's no need.

He straightens at the other end of the large 'street' just in time to see Rosso doing the same from where she's slid, all the way back to where a group of three stand. The Overseer, impassive as always behind his dark mask. Azul in front of him, hefting a minigun that's bigger than some of the actual members of the security forces. And then...

Lazard stands there, hands ground against his ears, grimacing, pale, and looking not particularly happy to be here.

"Rosso." The Overseer's voice, cold and emotionless as usual, speaks up while the redhead sweeps an angry hand up through her hair. "Pull yourself back. You're going wild as a rabid dog might. ShinRa does not need you to act in this way, not when we are to order its forces into moving as we need them. Your reckless actions will scatter the forces and make them harder to order about."

It's... a good bit of acting. Sephiroth thinks it must be, at any rate. It has to be. So it's time for him to do his part as well. So he raises Masamune up appropriately, getting into just the right battle stance for this. "I'm afraid there's no convincing me."

"Indeed. It seems your mind is rather set. Well, we will do our best to return you to the Science Department in once piece, so that they may deal with you appropriately." Off to the side, Lazard's jaw sets and goes rigid at the Overseer's words. Hopefully, with Azul inbetween them, the Overseer doesn't notice. All he does is raise one hand. "Azul."

The massive gun is hefted up again, aimed directly at Sephiroth. At this range... It will be bothersome, with its speed and volume, to slice through every bullet, but there's no other choice for him. Especially since he might catch Lazard in the spray if he makes a leap to strike downwards, considering the force it would take to put down Azul. But that's all he can do, as he watches the barrel of the massive machine gun start to whirl -

A pair of shining golden claws snap into the side of it, metal screeching on metal, and Rosso's entire body nearly seems to burn as she takes the gun - and Azul with it - to fling forward, right over her shoulder.

It's almost like being sucker punched - at least, what Sephirioth imagines being sucker punched must feel like, with the way that Azul's entire body and the gun both hit the ground, and a billow of dust bursts forth from the impact. All he can do is stare at the sight, Rosso hunched over from the force of it, that red glow having faded away from her the moment as she stares down at Azul with a vicious baring of her teeth. "How dare-" she starts to snarl, before there's the crackle of electricity, and her body jolts violently.

"Rosso." Even as the current arcs all around her body, threatening to force her downwards, the Overseer just sounds mildly annoyed, and Sephiroth's stomach twists. "You are getting in the way. Stand down."

But Rosso... doesn't.

All she does is forcefully keep herself upright, still snarling even as a maniacal laugh falls from her lips like spit out nails. "Stand down!?" she laughs through the pain, one hand rising upwards, to her chest - no, further up, now. "I shall not. Sephiroth is my prey. He will not fall to that trifling weapon you have made for Azul, nor to any of your machinations. He is mine, and I will never allow you to steal that away from me!" Her claws finally settle at their destination, and Sephiroth's stomach twists again, but in an entirely different way than his reaction to the Overseer. They settle their, the clawpoints right along the curve of her throat.

They're all staring at her, now - even the Overseer seems to have frozen for a moment, while Lazard's own eyes go wide in absolute bewilderment, and Azul can only stare at her with something approaching - awe? Appreciation?

Sephiroth doesn't know what his own expression shows. All he knows is that it feels as though his blood has run cold, to see her hold her claws there in place.

The Overseer finally speaks. "Rosso, stand down. Put your claws down." And yet, for all he says that, the electricity seems to be ebbing away, no longer making her body jerk and jitter so violently.

The same cannot be said for Rosso's slash of a smile, carved there on her face. "Oh, I think very much not," she says, voice high, manic. "I will do no such thing. And you will let me, won't you?" Another laugh, thrilled and almost victorious. "Because you have no choice! Not with your precious first choice of weapon having been stolen away from you! It is the only reason you have unearthed us, those of Deepground, the only reason we are even here in the first place! Because you have nothing better!" Her lids fall halfway, as though savoring this moment. Sephiroth has no doubt that she is. "And to lose even one more precious weapon in your little wars... That would be such a problem for you, would it not?"

All of it is true, of course. Sephiroth had known that from the moment he had learned of Deepground, understood what it was. It's clear to anyone just why ShinRa would bother pulling them up now, of all times, with the threats that they face. And judging by the Overseer's reluctant silence... this fact is obvious to everyone here.

The smile falls from Rosso's face. There's only that dead and focused stare, now, right at the person holding her leash and unable to use it. "He is my prey. And I will accept no interference - not from you, or anyone else."

...Which is around the time that Firaga slams right down into the towering garbage pile besides them all.

All of them go scattering - Sephiroth leaping back, Rosso forward along with him. The fall of garbage collapses wholly onto Azul but, worse, Sephiroth can't see what's happening on the other side - what happens to the Overseer and, more importantly, Lazard. Rosso is already snarling again, whirling around with her weapon at the ready for whoever else might get in her way, but... There's no need.

As the dust clears, it's clear that two more people have joined the fray - one holding Lazard by the neck and with his hands forced behind his back, and the other holding up a gun to his head.

This would work slightly better if Aerith were not so much shorter than both Lazard and Genesis.

"We really must appreciate you all delivering to us our favorite hostage," Genesis drawls, loud as he possibly can be, even over the sound of some bits of garbage still falling and rolling down what's left of the garbage pile. Over the sound of Azul pushing himself out of the debris with a snarl. "We really were in quite a bind, you know, but does this not make our escape from this miserable city so much easier?"

Aerith is wearing a fedora, and Sephiroth's glasses. He doesn't know where she got the fedora. He can recognize Gillian's gun in her hand. "If you don't clear a path for us and deliver us some fresh supplies, then we're putting a bullet straight through the Director of SOLDIER's head!" she announces, with far more confidence than she should have, considering Sephiroth is confident that she has never held a gun in her life before. He's confident about that because her grip on it is even worse than Gillian's. Far worse. At least Gillian had the basics. "No one move, either!"

This is a disaster. This is almost more than a disaster, Sephiroth is fairly sure, and he doesn't know how to salvage it, exactly. Not yet.

Fortunately, there is someone in attendance to this wildfire of a situation who has always been decisive without a shred of hesitation. "Oh, then I do not care about him," Rosso states plainly, before she whirls around and shoots straight at Sephiroth.

It's with his dodge that he realizes his answer, and Sephiroth leaps back. "Genesis!" he calls back, over the heaps of rubble, past the hulking form of Azul. "I leave this to you two!" Has he been heard right? Does Genesis understand what he means to do, his goals? Sephiroth can only hope that he understands enough, because he doesn't have time to linger around and so much as see his expression. All Sephiroth can do is turn tail, and make a run for it, Rosso's bullet's chasing after his feet.

Yet even as he's running, something that shines sharply through the air, shooting off like a rocket, catches his attention, and Sephiroth's eyes flash towards it. A burst of ice, in the sharp of a jagged ball, arcing through the air.... towards the train station. Something from a Blizzard materia again; of course. That explains where Gillian is.

Did she already consider that they all might split up, or were they all meant to see this signal?

He can only hope that it will all work out for him. That it will work out for all of them. So he kicks up his speed, trusting both Rosso's own fast feet and here vicious determination as he makes his way over piles of trash, darts through paths and roads, avoids the sound of frantic military. All of it reduced to unimportant blurs, until he makes one last leap, and there it is:

Dirty and well worn stone steps. A platform. Metal and wire signs, twisted up to lights to let the conductor's know where to go. And, of course, a train there, already waiting, smoke still rolling out from its massive shell.

The sounds of gunfire cease, but not Rosso's footsteps, even when he leaps upwards atop the train. A roll into a duck immediately to avoid the spray of gunfire that follows after him, and then, even before he can get his feet underneath him again, there's the hard clack of heels there on the metal as well. It'd be a simple thing, for her to keep shooting, or keep pursuing, but he's granted the time to roll up onto his feet. To come face to face with Rosso, whose gaze flicks down for a moment to what's beneath their feet.

Underneath them, the train rumbles, roars, and lurches. Down at the station, the nervous conductor who had ducked down at their passing gives a shout, but he's too late. Carrying them atop it, the train begins to move, and takes them away from the slums.

Sephiroth pays it no mind. All that warrants his attention... is the woman who stands there across from him. The woman who unfolds her gunblade, the two hunks of metal jolting out from their holding places. "Finally," Rosso snarls, swinging the massive weapon - larger than even her petite frame - up and around. "No one else can interrupt the two of us, here." With one decisive movement, she slams one blade straight through the roof of the train car they stand atop, and the barrel of her gun begins to glow white hot.

There's no going against it. Sephiroth readies Masamune. If he has to fight against Rosso long enough to talk some sense into her, then that's exactly what he'll do.

Roaring louder than the rush of the train, Rosso's gun peppers him with its spray, but it's slower than Azul's weapon. Slow enough for Sephiroth's hands to carve Masamune through the air, slice through every single blow that comes his way. He's prepared for more, prepared for it to be never ending - but the onslaught stops.

Across from him stands the gunblade, vertical still, no handler at its trigger.

It's all in a split second - the sight, how he lunges forward in another roll, Rosso's strike slamming down right into where he stood but a moment prior. He barely has a second to get his feet underneath him before she's following right after him, slicing forward with her claws. A dodge here, a duck there, he uses the butt of Masamune's handle to slam into her side, drive her back, but it doesn't work. Not as much as he'd want to, another snarl leaving her as she flips back, lunges at him again singlemindedly.

Just - keeping up with her is a trial, at this close range - possibly one of the best ranges to deal with Masamune's length. They've had this battle so many times before, back in the SOLDIER training rooms, the exchange of blows, how her body twists around his blows, how he has to rely on other methods of beating her back.

But it feels bad, this time.

There's no satisfaction in driving his knee towards her forearm, stopping the slice of one arm. He can't find any contentment in trying to slice at her own body, and feeling the resistance of her blocking with her gauntlets.

"Rosso!" He does his best to raise his voice above the combat, above the roar of the train as it hurtles along the tracks. "Stop this! We don't need to do this!"

Her laughter is shrill, unhinged, and all she does is make another attempt at him, her gauntlets clashing against Masamune. "Oh, but we do!" she yells back at him, lips twisted in something that could be a smile, or could be a pained grimace. "Nothing less than for the wretched thing which thought to use me as you did!" She tries to wrench at Masamune, just enough snap her kick up past it. Sephiroth jerks his head back to avoid her boot to his chin. "Did you feel delight, tricking me so?"

Sephiroth jerks Masamune away, slams an elbow towards her to drive her away - but only for a moment. Rosso is, as always, relentless, and she leaps right for him again, their blows exchanged. "I didn't mean to trick you!"

All he'd wanted to do... was ensure that Gillian, and Angeal, and Genesis - that they all got out safely. His own decision... He hadn't even been sold on his own decision.

But maybe that hadn't mattered. Maybe, in the end, she's still right. He still tricked her and, worst of all...

He left her behind.

Does she know this too? Is that why she sneers at him, even as her claws try to go in again and again? Maybe it never mattered. Sephiroth doesn't know. All he knows is that he has to get through to her. "Rosso, please! Stop-"

But she doesn't, of course. All she does is attack, again and again, both of them using all the tricks in their books that's come from so many days of fighting against each other. Sephiroth wonders if maybe he can just wear her down, pin her against something, then at least, at the very least, he can ask if she'll come with him -

He stabs forward. He's not expecting it to hit - not Rosso. Quick and fast Rosso, all the swifter without the immense weight of her gunblade weighing her down, who has twisted around to fight him and get right close to him. But just before Masamune thrusts forward, goes all the way, he sees her eyes flash. Sees the way her teeth grit together in the same kind of vicious stubborness he'd first witnessed in her when she'd try to make a go straight for the Overseer, even knowing it wouldn't work.

He sees the way she lets his blade pierce right through her shoulder, threatening to sever limb from body, just so that she can still push forward, even a little bit, instead of pushing back.

For the first time in many years, something akin to nausea burns in his stomach, threatens to ride up through his throat, and Sephiroth doesn't think twice about leaping back, about pulling Masamune out as smoothly as possible before it can go any further. It's not fast enough - of course it's not fast enough - to stop Rosso's claws from tearing through the front of his shirt. Blood oozes out, trickles down to the belt of his pants, sinks into fabric, but Sephiroth isn't thinking about any of that.

His eyes are completely locked on the bloody wound that lays in Rosso's body, how it came so close to tearing through her body completely.

But she doesn't care. Of course she doesn't care, that frustrated snarl on her lips as she makes another swipe at him, and then another when he dodges that. Sephiroth does it all on instinct. His actual thinking brain is rushing and fumbling with thoughts far outside this battle, rushing with the realization that Rosso will...

She'd sooner choke on her own blood, lose her own limbs, in her pursuit of him... then ever stop.

And he can't let that happen.

Sephiroth won't let that happen.

Rosso lunges for him again, and this time, he doesn't dodge it. This time, he welcomes the way her claws sink into his chest, go knuckle deep down towards his heart. Possibly this would be enough to down even him; Sephiroth knows that death isn't an impossibility for him. It can't be. But he doesn't give her a chance to dig straight in, his own hand reaching up to press flat against the back of hers and his sword arm wrapping tight around her waist to keep her there. "Rosso," he hisses to her, pain sparking in his chest, sinking in deep. All she does is scream, frustration laid bare, before she snaps her teeth forward, digs them into his shoulder with her other arm trapped from his actions. "Rosso, listen to me, please. I need to explain."

But there's nothing in her that wants to listen. Not with how incensed she is now, snarling against torn skin and shed blood. Sephiroth grimaces, tries to think on what he can possibly do on his own.

Further down the train car, there's a heavy slap of palm to metal, and then, over the flaming red of Rosso's hair whipping everywhere, he can see a familiar figure haul himself up into the same arena as the two of them. "Oh, the hell is this," Angeal curses, before he's there in what feels like only a couple of strides.

If it's Angeal... Just from what he's seen of him, Sephiroth knows that it would be trivial for him to pull Rosso off. Maybe even fling her off of the train entirely, easily.

But he can't let him do that.

He can't abandon Rosso for a second time.

"Don't!" he calls out, strangled, feeling the blood flooding along the shoulder of his shirt, and Angeal's hand jerks to a stop just inches from the back of Rosso's neck. Sephiroth meets those deep blue eyes with his own. "Angeal. Please. Help her."

Angeal's gaze sweeps over his face, the sight that Rosso must make with multiple parts of her sunk into Sephiroth's body, before he lets out what seems to be a sigh. Sephiroth can't hear it. Not with the train, rushing through the air, clanging along the tracks. "Hold still," he yells, and then there's his thick arm, pushing inbetween Sephiroth and Rosso, going around her neck. He pries her away just slightly, but that's more than enough for her to begin screaming again, savage, outraged... before her voice chokes. Angeal's other hand rises up, keeps her head still even as his arm squeezes tighter and tighter, stopping voice and air both from rising in her chest.

Right where he is, right against her...  All Sephiroth can do is stare into those crimson eyes. And Rosso stares back, bared teeth bloodied beneath a stare full of rage.

Just... not rage.

He knows that it's not only rage in her eyes, before they roll back, and her eyelids fall.

Sephiroth accepts her body as it goes limp, and so it falls to Angeal to reach inbetween them to delicately pry her claws out from his chest lest they hit any vital organs. "How did you let her get this close?" he says, incredulous. "Hold on - we can make a jump from here, we shouldn't be too far from the slums yet. The pipes should be manageable along with some construction projects. Jump when I say!"

There's no helping it; there are still too many people they left down in the slums who need them. People that Sephiroth has promised to get out of here. So he holds Rosso's unconscious body close in his arms, braces himself against the moving train... and jumps when Angeal calls to him.

The pipes up here aren't really sturdy enough to hold two heavy men like him and Angeal, but that's fine. They only need that momentary jumping point to go from one place to another, until, finally, they hit heavy pieces of machinery and assorted chunks of metal that still lay there, suspended in the air, from whatever construction project that was abandoned long ago. As they catch their breath there on metal beams, Angeal wastes no time striding over to him.

"Look at you, you're a mess," he mutters, ferreting around in his project before he raises up a familiar materia. "Hold still - I managed to grab a Cure materia while I was out. You need to get this treated, and no relying on that ridiculously fast healing factor of ours. We'll do it the proper way, now."

Sephiroth lets him. Frankly, it's the last thing on his mind as he delicately places Rosso at his feet, checking over her own injuries. Various bruises, scrapes, all of that he could ignore since it's nothing worse than whatever else they would get up to in their sparring sessions, but... That wound in her shoulder still bothers him, and he looks up to Angeal, past the glow of materia. "Angeal... Could you heal her as well?"

There is, at least, no question of it. Angeal only sighs, before he redirects that familiar green glow down to Rosso as well. "This is the girl in all the papers, right?" he asks, while Sephiroth's gaze stays locked right there on her wound. Watches as skin knits itself back together. "The one who was your partner for a while, right before we did our big job."

"That's right... Her name is Rosso." Sephiroth sweeps the hair away from her face, his brow furrowed, before he looks up to Angeal. "I know this is a lot to ask, Angeal, but I want to ask you a favor."

"Yeah, we'll take her," Angeal says without batting an eye, and just smiles a little bit at the way  Sephiroth stares at him. "What? It wasn't that big of a mystery. You wouldn't tell me to go to all the effort of knocking her out and then healing her if you didn't have something else on your mind." He shrugs, and offers his hand down to him. "I'll carry her. I broke that sword we stole from the SOLDIER guys a little while ago, so you're our best bet, considering it's still a cluster down where Ma' and Genesis are, right?"

"Gillian, Genesis... and someone else, too." Someone he also has to keep safe, just as much as Rosso or any of the others.

Despite the height they're at, at least with the construction work, they have a quick way down. And once they make their way past enough of it, it's easy to get a clear sight of all of the slums as well - or, if nothing else, a good majority of the slums. Honestly, they might not even need a view of most of the slums. All they really need to do is see the massive amounts of arson which seem to be lighting up one particular part of it.

"At least Genesis always makes it easy to tell in what general location he's in," Angeal remarks dryly, as the two of them stay right where they are, getting a lay of the land. "Your eyes are pretty good... What do you see? We need to get them clear of everything in this whole mess, but that might be a problem with the sheer amount of personnel that they have crammed down here..."

Angeal isn't wrong. Sephiroth's eyes are very good, and there is an incredible amount of ShinRa forces down there in the slums. If they wanted to be careful and subtle, then probably they would need to craft a very delicate plan indeed that would keep them safe.

But his gaze draws away from the people far down there below, the forces that are converging to the sight of flames... and instead rests on a different red. On Rosso, there in Angeal's arms.

He's made up his mind.

"There is a Church in one of the other Sectors," he says, returning his sight down below. "You remember it. Take Rosso there. Make sure that she stays unconscious; she's not in the mood to hear me out right now. And this will be our only chance to take care of something. In the meanwhile... I'll get Genesis, Gillian, Aerith, and Lazard as well."

Angeal stares at him, for just a second. Sephiroth wonders if he'll ask questions, or tell him to stop, or inquire if this is really the best course of action.

"Got it," he says. "Then, I'll meet you there. And Sephiroth?"

"Yes?"

"....Keep them safe."

That much is a given. Perhaps they both know that, because neither of them hang around any longer. All they do, in sync, is turn to go their separate ways, taking a leap off of the edge and falling down and down to the throngs of trash which await them.

It's kind of funny. So much of his life, if he hasn't been called ShinRa's golden child, then he's been called a cyborg. Sephiroth has never liked that before. Never liked that separation of him from everyone else, for no reason that he could reasonably see. But he does have to admit that there is something almost soothing, in falling back to the simple and sooth works of his body. In letting it work to its ultimate potential as his feet catch upon pieces and bits of the construction site, letting gravity guide him down so smoothly.

Hitting the ground just feels like a punctuation mark rather than a full stop, a comma in a sentence, before he's speeding off again. All his time down in the slums, and he's already familiar with it all. He knows with just a glance what pieces of trash will hold his weight, where to leap from one pile to another, how to scale up to hanging bits of old architecture that's long since been abandoned.

All of that, he uses to his advantage. Uses it to speed through the district, past throngs of people gathered down below who huddle terrified, who speak with one another. Whatever words they say are but blurs of incomprehensible nonsense to his ears, utterly unimportant for his goal.

Even when those words turn to more authoritative shouts, and he can see blurs of ShinRa uniforms down beneath his feet.

Sephiroth doesn't care. He just follows the route he's flawlessly created in his head, and uses the smoke of Genesis's fire to keep going, to orient himself whenever he has even a second's doubt on where he has to go.

And just like that... He's there. He's landing down upon dirt, to raise his head just enough to see the scene before him: Genesis squaring off against Azul, Aerith backed up against trash with Gillian having warded off SOLDIERs with Blizzard, the Overseer watching it all happen before him. He can see the way people's eyes go to him.

"Genesis." Sephiroth's voice is low and quiet. He has zero doubt that the redhead can hear him. "Duck."

He pulls back Masamune, and can see, in those split seconds, how Genesis's eyes go wide, distantly hear the way he's already calling out to the others. Gillian dives down from where she'd positioned herself slightly atop the trash pile. Aerith uses all of her weight to drag Lazard down with her to the dirty ground. It all happens in just a second.

In just a second, maybe two, that's all that Sephiroth needs to pull all his power into Masamune, and he swings.

He needs swing only once.

If there is only one kindness he bestows upon the innocent people who wield ShinRa's guns, it is that his swing - thanks to his height - goes over most of their heads. A swing that slices clean through piles of trash no doubt thought of as too thick to slice. A swing that causes avalanches to fall upon startled security forces. A swing that causes an ugly red gash upon Azul's immense form, forcing him downwards.

More than the damage, however...

He needs the dust. The commotion. The smoke.

"Hello - dear," Gillian coughs when Sephiroth darts past all the disaster, knowing where they are even past the smoke. He helps her up, gathers her into his arms. "What-"

"I need your help," he tells her, not wasting any time, before he looks for a figure in red. "Genesis - the church. Get them there." That's all he dares to say before, like lightning, he bursts off again, past dozens of confused and dazed SOLDIERs and security forces. They're not important to him, not really, not past the fact that he only needs make sure that not a single one of them can know where he's truly going.

To that end... He uses all the evasion tactics he knows, in this place he's become quite familiar with thanks to him and Angeal exploring so much of it while they had nothing to do but wait for the next shoe to drop.

With his heart decided, it's almost like child's play.





"I see," Gillian says the second that they enter the backrooms of the church, where Angeal has carefully laid Rosso down on the stone floor atop a blanket he must have scrounged up from somewhere. Perhaps something Aerith left behind; Sephiroth doesn't think it really matters all that much. "Have her injuries been treated?"

From behind him, Sephiroth is sure he can hear Genesis putting down Lazard and Aerith, their footsteps as they make their way past the many pews and stone steps. It's only a faint sort of knowledge, however. Nothing compared to Rosso's state as she lays there. "Angeal healed them with Cure," he says simply, kneeling down besides her. "But Gillian..." A breath. He doesn't have the right to ask this, he thinks. Perhaps he shouldn't at all. And yet, he knows he must. He knows that he can never do to Rosso what he did that first time. "I want to take her with us."

"She shot you!" Genesis exclaims, already there in the doorway, his long legs having no doubt carried him far ahead of both Lazard and Aerith. Well, that, and the fact that Genesis is so bright that he can't help but put all his energy into even simple things as walking sometimes, Sephiroth thinks. "And I can see the state of your shirt, so I know she did far worse in the time you two were with one another!"

Gillian isn't quite so reactive. She only steps around Rosso's body, kneeling down carefully on the other side of her as she looks over her unconscious body. "If she's already been healed with Cure," she says, finger reaching down to take Rosso's pulse, "then there must be another reason that you wanted me in particular to look over her."

Thank goodness she's so quick. Sephiroth knows that they can't waste any time with this. "Deepground has some sort of chip implanted inside of her. That's how they can control her, or others like Azul. Please... take it out of her."

Then, and only then... will she finally be free of ShinRa.

Perhaps, even when she wakes up and realizes this, Rosso will still want to attack him. She'll still be enraged. Sephiroth has to admit that she has all the reason in the world to do that, and he'd never stop her for that. But when she does that... He wants it to be with the knowledge that, at the very least, it is completely and utterly of her own will, with nothing able to leash or stop her.

Sephiroth looks up, looks across Rosso to meet Gillian's eyes. "Can you do it?"

Gillian closes her eyes for a moment, as weary as though the entire world rests upon her shoulders. Maybe, at least, only her world, this life that she's lived. "Project Deepground was... something that was started up after I left. At the very least, Hollander's involvement with it was something that had to happen after I left." Another moment of thought, and then she reaches back, pushing her hair from her face. "But, just possibly... I think I still might know the way he works, after all these years."

Relief floods through him, so powerful that Sephiroth can only be thankful that he's already on his knees. Standing behind Gillian, Angeal rubs at his chin. "This isn't the best place to do it, but we can only hope that it'll do well enough if it has those flowers blossoming so well." He looks past Sephiroth. "Gen, we'll need you to keep her under."

"Ugh." Despite such a noise of utter aggravation, it's nonetheless followed by the click of Genesis's boots, and he kneels down besides Sephiroth. "Fine, I'll help the bloodhungry little wretch. Sephiroth, go fetch Ma's bags - she should have some basic field medic supplies in there, including a scalpel." Sephiroth gets up without a bit of hesitation, already on his way to the bag he thinks is the one Genesis is talking about. As he walks, he hears the redhead continue talking, to Gillian now. "You're thinking there? We're going to have to remove some of the hair, then..."

As he emerges into the rest of the chapel area, Sephiroth can spot Lazard and Aerith right back over at the doors, peering out past their wooden masses. "I don't know if my being kidnapped will work for or against me in the long run," Lazard says, not taking his eyes away from the outside even as Sephiroth goes to the bags. "But what's done is done, so just focus on what it is you're doing, alright?"

Aerith flashes him a peace sign and a smile. "It'll all turn out alright," she says. And somehow, when it's from Aerith, it feels like it just might be true.

In the short amount of time it takes for him to get Gillian's field medic kit and return to the back rooms of the chapel, the smell of burning hair hits his nose, and he can see all three of the Hewleys crouched down around Rosso. There's a strange shimmer of magic all around them, as well, one which Sephiroth actually recognizes... although not in this context. "Barrier?" he asks, drawing Genesis's attention to him.

"Well, in an ideal world where we weren't all wanted criminals, this would take place in a properly sanitized surgery room," he says dismissively, raising a hand and waving Sephiroth in. His other hand is brushing away coils of thick red hair; one half of Rosso's head is now completely bare. "However, for occasions such as this... We make do."

Truly a fascinating use of materia; Sephiroth has never heard of it before. Then again, in the expensively funded and elaborate labs of ShinRa, were they ever left so wanting as to need to do such things?

Taking her bag, Gillian immediately slides on a pair of rubber gloves. "We may only have this one chance," she murmurs, while Angeal pulls a scarf up to her mouth, her chin, her nose. Keeps her hair out of her face with a hairband. "And I must warn you that this is only a guess of mine, based off of information that might long be outdated. So, Sephiroth... I must warn you not to get your hopes up, in case..."

"In case she ends up dying of bloodloss," Genesis says far too glibly, even as he props Rosso's unconscious body up.

At the sight of Sephiroth going stiff, Angeal sighs, and positions himself right besides the bag. "That's what we're relying on all your magic for, Gen," he reminds him sternly. "If you're really the greatest at using magic and materia and all of that in the world, you better prove it here and now while you keep her alive and clean for Ma."

"Silence, boys." Gillian holds up a scalpel. "I need to concentrate."

Once he manages to dissociate his own emotions from what he's witnessing, the twisting worry that tangles up inside of his own intestines as though it were something physical, Sephiroth has to admit that it is a... fascinating experience. It isn't as though he is ignorant to surgeries, or dissections, or even vivisections. In Hojo's lab, it was only expected for him to witness all of that and far more in his studies.

Yet those were done in ShinRa's sterile labs, seated in the back, properly dressed in drab clothing that often ended up splattered with blood, watching groups of scientists in oppressive white peel back skin and flesh for whatever it was that they sought to do.

Rarely was it for the good of anyone. Mostly, it was for Hojo's own twisted little experiments.

Never was there ever a scene like this: the surgeon in charge of it all dressed in plain clothing pulled back out of the way as best as she could make it, her brow furrowed in worried concentration. An assistant all muscle and stoic silence, handing her whatever tool she asked for in a quiet voice all full of tension. A mage, materia glowing from his belt, multitasking almost as if without a thought, his hands keeping their patient steady, his skills keeping her safe.

The patient someone he cares about, blood pooling slowly and slowly down around from her scalp, dripping along the curve of her skull.

Thick copper in his nose. The careful crack of skull. Bright metal slowly digging into flesh. A part of him feels strangely sick about it all in a way that has never affected him in his studies before. Yet another part of him cannot help but watch in desperate hope and learning, carrying it all into his memories so that he might never forget... no matter what happens.

It's all so silent, save for the clicking of metal on bone, and the squelch of flesh... up until Gillian heaves out a breath from behind the makeshift mask she wears. "For once, thank goodness for our partnership," she whispers hoarsely, to a man who is not there.

The scalpel goes in again, joined by a pair of tweezers. They work so very slowly, so very delicately... all up until the moment she pulls back and there, waiting inbetween a bloodied metallic grip, lays a tiny little chip covered in viscera. So small, one could never imagine the harm it's caused.

Sephiroth doesn't quite know how he keeps himself in place, then, only then he has to close his eyes for a moment. Be... thankful, for the first time in a very long while. When he opens them again, the chip has been placed to the side, and Gillian is hard at work carefully returning the pieces of skull she had to break through, while Angeal - wearing his gloves of his own - begins to slowly push back pieces of skin. "We're at the hard part now, Gen," he mutters. "Get her back together nice and slow."

Has he ever seen Cure used so delicately and thoughtfully before? Sephiroth doesn't think so, as he watches that familiar green light gently weave up along Rosso's scalp, stitch together skin once more. Watches it wash over bloodied bone before it is all hidden again by skin, guided by so very careful fingers.

The Cure that was used occasionally in Hojo's labs, when it wasn't simply different variants of potion, never seemed so delicate or careful before. If anything, it seemed often so very crude, cruel, forcing together different pieces together like bruteforced puzzle pieces. Often, even that wasn't enough to make them align perfectly well, giving way to bone jutting out where it shouldn't, or more mental matters, it sometimes seemed.

Never before, either, did a scalpel seem so...

Does he have the words to describe it? How this procedure was like none he had ever witnessed before, even disregarding the matter of clothing, and equipment, and the people involved?

Genesis hands Rosso's still unconscious body - Sephiroth doesn't know how he managed that either - over to Angeal, before leaning back with a stretch. "Ugh, I'm exhausted - and we still have ShinRa after us, no doubt sniffing all around like mad." He pushes himself up onto his feet, and rests one hand upon his hips. His eyes are focused towards not only the door leading out of the room they're in, but to the doors beyond that, to the district which the church lays in. "This will be troublesome to get out of... It looks like all the work you put into slipping onto that train will got to waste, Angeal."

From where he sits on the floor, still helping his mother clean up, Angeal shakes his head. "Considering I managed to interfere with a battle that I did, I think it was still worthwhile... but you're right that we still have a lot that we're going to have to deal with. Maybe even more than we were dealing with before, and that was already a big problem."

Stepping forward, Sephiroth kneels down besides Rosso. Takes in how her skin has grown just a little more pale than it already was from all her time spent underground, no doubt due to all the blood loss. How, despite that, she breathes evenly still. "A problem in getting out of Midgar, right?" he asks, and reaches down to squeeze her hand. She'll be alright. Now that she's free of the chip, she'll be alright. Which means... "That's alright. I know a way out of here."

As he gets up, he's greeted by the sight of Genesis staring at him incredulously. "You know, and you only decided to speak up about it now?" he asks, following right on Sephiroth's heels as he goes back to the rest of the church. "Just what on earth was holding you back before?"

"It's brute force," Sephiroth says matter of factly, looking over the flowers as he carefully steps around them. "And I thought we should be more careful than that. But I think, now, with how much ShinRa is chasing us down... Perhaps to waste any more time here, giving them more opportunities, would be the truly foolish thing. Aerith!"

Pushing away from the door, Aerith gives a chipper little salute. Somehow, through all of this, she's still wearing that ratty fedora she must have pulled from the trash, and his old sunglasses disguise is perched on her nose as if nothing but an act of the divine could move it. "Sir yes sir!"

It's all right if she makes fun of him for now. With all that's on his mind, Sephiroth can't be bothered about it. "There is an exit to the area around Midgar to the south of here, isn't there?"

"Technically," Aerith says, crossing her arms, shifting weight from one foot to the other. "I heard it's supposed to let large ShinRa vehicles in, in theory, but I don't think it's been opened from that side in ages. Certainly not for as long as I've been living down here with my mom. I'm not even sure if the gate controls work anymore, honestly. It's been years since anyone from ShinRa came down to this part of the slums to do maintenance on anything... and people usually would talk about something like that."

Sephiroth shakes his head. "It's fine. I think I know of a way to get it open." But even if he says that... This solves things for him, Gillian, Angeal, Genesis, and now Rosso. That still... leaves one more person here that he needs to deal with, since Aerith will be staying here, and he raises his gaze up to the man that still stands there by the cracked open door. "Lazard... Do you really think that you'll be able to return to ShinRa safely?"

A weary sigh heaves out from Lazard, as though unable to be held back, but the man still gives him a wry smile. "Well, it will certainly be difficult to explain how I managed to escape out of a second kidnapping... Especially without your help, since you're now very clearly on the side of the enemy. But I haven't managed to survive this long in the rather ruthless arena that is ShinRa's upper management on sheer luck. This is all something that I've been working hard to manage, so... I'm positive that I'll be able to spin something to my advantage. With how much of a mess everything was towards the end there, I will at least have that on my side, and no shortage of witnesses to it all as well."

Maybe he's right. Maybe this is something that Sephiroth should leave in his hands, since he surrendered to this scenario a long time ago. If there is anyone who has seemed able to weather ShinRa's turbulent inner workings, Lazard has always managed to do so, and with the ability to even carve out his own space, a SOLDIER that has survived as its own little department away from everything else.

Even so.

Sephiroth steps forward to stare his oldest ally directly in the eyes. "Then, I'm sorry, Director Lazard of SOLDIER, but, as one of our hostages, we cannot let you go so easily."

From only a few paces behind him, Genesis starts to laugh. Lazard can only stare. "What - Sephiroth, what do you think that you're doing?" he manages to get out, hands falling loose to his sides. "If I don't return back to ShinRa, then they'll-"

"There may be more credence to you being sincerely kidnapped for knowing too much, rather than you miraculously returning to ShinRa for a second time and being under constant scrutiny." Sephiroth shakes his head, stubborn on this front and willing to speak up against even Lazard for it. "Even if you returned to ShinRa like this, then you wouldn't be able to do anything. Surely, you'd be more restricted than you ever were, and without a single bit of power to your name. Surely, Deepground would only treat you all the worse, as they no doubt come more into the public eye and ShinRa's departments. In contrast, if we do something like this... There may still be a chance for us further down the line."

"Besides, it would be so nice to have a handy hostage there within easy reach," Genesis teases, seeming to have far too much fun with all of this. "At any rate, I don't think you very much have a choice, Director Lazard."

That's far from how Sephiroth would have ever said it... but it works well enough for their purposes. He'll accept it for now; there's no point in dallying about. Reaching over, he firmly takes Lazard by the wrist. "We're going now," he says, refusing for there to be any room in his tone to allow argument. "And Aerith... You need to go home now."

Aerith glances over all of them for a moment, fingers curling in tight against her dress. Genesis standing close by to Angeal, who's come up to the group with Rosso still unconscious in his arms. Gillian, having not hesitated for a second in hauling up the luggage that they all still have and draping it across her sons' backs. Lazard, right there, fingers still pinching at the bridge of his nose to come up with an argument. And him.

He's expecting an argument again, the kind of foot stomping tantrum he can recall back in the labs when she railed against the things scientists wanted of her. But after a moment, she closes her eyes - almost as if listening to some voice of sense in her head. "...Alright. I'll go home," she says, looking back at him with those vivid eyes of hers. "So you have to stay completely safe getting out of the city, alright? You have to promise, Sephiroth."

Maybe she really has gotten more mature after all these years. Sephiroth nods, because he knows he doesn't have a choice in the matter... and he won't let anyone else have a choice either. "I promise."

Those two words are all Aerith needs to hear before she's already on her heels with that last syllable, bolting out the door and down the street. Sephiroth's fingers want to go down to Masamune, to worry at the hilt even as he worries if she'll be able to make it to her home without running into any trouble with ShinRa... but he has to trust that she'll be okay. That she knows how to make her way through the slums in a way that will keep herself safe, and that ShinRa won't look twice at a girl so young running around.

...He can just hope she remembers to take that ratty fedora off.

With all the commotion stirring up the slums, the way over to the gates leading out of the city is a relatively smooth one, all things told. No monsters dare to attack them; perhaps they've decided to scurry to places further away from ShinRa troops. "It's funny," Angeal says as they make their way through dirt paths, the shimmering blue of the barrier waiting high over their heads. "That church might have been keeping a lot of things safe, at least when it came to monsters. Pity that it probably wouldn't work on those more human nuisances after our tail."

"We have other ways of dissuading them," Genesis drawls, even as he slips ahead so that he can lean close to Lazard. "Just like how we've persuaded you, Director Lazard."

Sephiroth almost feels bad, with the tired expression on Lazard's face as he stares back at the redhead. "I was under the impression that you were referring to my circumstances here as a kidnapping," he points out.

"Ah, it's still a type of persuasion in the end, don't you think?"

"Less chatting, Genesis, and a little more walking," Gillian patiently points out in the tone of someone who has had to do this sort of thing many a time before. "We are technically still very wanted, with the entire security force and a little extra sure to come bearing down on us any second now if we lag behind for even a moment."

Thank goodness for Gillian's help in keeping them all on track. Even from this distance, Sephiroth thinks he can still hear the commotion that he's left behind in his wake... At least the smoke is only a trace in the air, wafting away in what little breeze there is down here, although maybe that's worse. Sephiroth tries not to think about it, instead focusing on the sudden open space that is presented to them.

The blue barrier which ShinRa developed perhaps when he wasn't even yet born, which is arguably meant to keep monsters out from infesting the rest of the city.

He steps forward, looking at the massive and meticulously constructed metal pillars which link the various barriers together. Back when he was topside, when he was only "ShinRa's golden boy", he constantly heard that Midgar had a barrier system in place to protect its precious citizens, and that the system had been developed by ShinRA for the "good of all". Yet he's had to draw Masamune multiple times even just in the last month against whatever monsters lurk within the elaborate plumbing system which houses such a massive city, and that isn't even considering the creatures which thrive freely within the piles of trash which make up the slums.

Maybe... it isn't to keep any particular creature out of Midgar, since it's clearly done such a bad job in that regard.

He can think on that later. For now, he approaches the pillars which frame the massive metal gate that awaits them, and Angeal finally lengthens his stride so that he can stand besides him to inspect it all. "Aerith wasn't wrong," the other comments, leaning over with a stern frown upon his lips. "Look at the rust which has developed on all of this... and I'm hoping it's just rust, instead of the giant list of far more disgusting applications. Have you ever had to deal with similar sorts of systems while you were working with ShinRa?"

"No," Sephiroth says matter of factly. Hojo's interests hadn't often been in hardware, especially hardware that is as mundane as this. He was one who had far more of an interest in biology and the likes, with the idea that it was superior to all other fields, and only seemed to dabble into things like technology when it could merge with his interest. Beyond that... He doesn't think ShinRa liked the idea of him learning too much.

He suspects they only liked Lazard taking him into SOLDIER so that they could get their dividends all the sooner.

But that's fine. "I still know how to make it past this," he says, and nods to Angeal. "Please stand back and allow me some space." Angeal raises an eyebrow, curious on all of this, before he obliges with a good few steps back so that he's standing back with the others.

Sephiroth is grateful, he really is, as he pulls back Masamune. After all, while he's sliced through bullets with ease before...

A pure plated metal door is something else entirely.

Just seeing him get into a readied stance is enough to draw out a delighted laugh from out of Genesis, and the redhead ignores his prior warning, stepping forward with the shine of a materia already in his hands. "Oh, you'll ruin your absolutely beautiful blade if you slam it so mercilessly forward like that," he says, the bright burn of it reflected starkly in those pale blue eyes of his. "Allow me to make the slice a little cleaner."

Of course, even for ShinRa's fabricated story, these gates were meant to withstand a great deal. Probably attacks from some other invading force, if anything else. Certainly those down in the slums couldn't be expected to bring this much firepower. So even as powerful as Genesis is right now, with only low grade materia at his disposal, he cannot burn through the entirety of the gate. Frankly, he can't even reduce it to a bit of slag.

That's okay. Sephiroth doesn't need it to be reduced to slag. All he needs... is for it to be even a little more tender.

And Genesis does that beautifully, the gate offering only so much resistance - no more resistance than any vehicle he's utterly destroyed - before Masamune goes through every single thick foot of it. Slices through, metal still shining white hot where his blade has gone, before Angeal steps forward to slam his boot forward. Fast, surprisingly so, and there's the metal, launched out into the barren wastes.

It's good enough for Sephiroth, really, and he steps forward. But - it's more than he's ever strained himself before, honestly. There's just a... A momentary wariness, or something similar, because he steps forward and it doesn't quite land. He stumbles forward, hastily tries to correct himself.

He barely has a moment to. Not before there are two hands there at his shoulders, bracing him, drawing him back nice and steady once more. "Shaky legged at my skill?" Genesis asks on his right side, even as his gaze rakes over Sephiroth. "Well, it's a wholly understandable reaction truth be told. I'll be generous and lend you my shoulder, so try not to swoon, alright?"

"Don't strain yourself," Angeal tells him from his left, even as he adjusts Rosso in his arms again after he'd grabbed Sephiroth. "We still have a long way to go before we're in the clear, so you don't have to expend everything in one go."

In nearly all his time in ShinRa... Sephiroth can't think of anyone that's held him quite like this. That's stepped forward after that massive display of power, held him up, acted as though he needed any help. He was always... the secret weapon, who was expected to stand on his own. But here -

A soft sigh is there behind him, footsteps on dirty ground that don't match the shoes, and then there's Lazard, right behind him, his hand curving along his spine. "Listen, if we're all going to get dragged into this together, then we do need at least one person with their weapon at the ready should the worst happen," he says, lightly scolding the two men before him. Off to the side, Gillian is already striding past them all with a small smile on her lips. "Genesis, you make sure that we all stay safe, and Angeal, I expect you to keep a solid hold on Rosso. I'll take care of Sephiroth here. That should be easy enough for us to all agree on, so let's get moving."

"Wow, since when did I join SOLDIER?" Angeal asks, but he's smiling as well, striving forward while Genesis guards their self-made exit. "But you know, it probably wouldn't do anything, but we really should figure out a way to at least cover this giant hole that we made... If someone holds onto this particular violent redhead - not you Genesis - I can pull some piece of rubble large enough to cover our tracks. Who even remembers an exit like this, considering the state of it?"

Sephiroth is about to offer himself, even as he starts to sheathe Masamune. The only reason Rosso is with them at all is because he was the one to ask Gillian of such a favor in the middle of the worst possible time for it.

But he doesn't get that chance, as Genesis stomps forward with an aggravated sigh. "Give her to me," he says impatiently, and then doesn't wait for any kind of answer. All he does is haul her up out of Angeal's arms, and shove her underneath one of his own. It isn't particularly... elegant, with her held more like a misbehaving pet rather than someone who just went through what was effectively brain surgery in a dirty ruined building. "Hurry up, then. We have to make the most out of what little time we have."

Maybe the wiser thing to do would be to put his complete trust right there in the pair, even as Angeal hurries over to what looks like the wrecked part of a brick wall - something from long ago in Midgar's past perhaps. Gillian stands outside, and Lazard technically as well, although he's still partially in the opening so that his hand can rest along Sephiroth's elbow. Keep him upright.

Yet something still compels Sephiroth to stay there with Angeal and Genesis. To watch as the redhead keeps his sword at the ready despite how he's now made himself handicapped. To look on as Angeal manages to take the piece of brick and drag it along, losing parts of it along the way.

"Better get through," he says, once he's close enough to not be shouting. "There's no turning back here."

No turning back. No returning to the life that he once knew. No falling into the comfort of routine, no matter how painful that routine could be. Possibly... the last chance that he'll ever have gotten to see Aerith. Sephiroth almost wants to close his eyes and think of her face one last time. Never would he have ever though he would see her again, after her and her mother managed to escape from ShinRa.

The reunion was a short one, in the midst of a terrible emergency that required all of his attention... but despite that, he still can't help feeling glad that he got to see her one last time. That he was able to speak with her again. Sephiroth holds that close to his chest, even as he finally turns his back on Midgar. On Aerith.

"SEEEEEEEEEEPH! WAIT UP!"

He can almost hear her voice, like when they were kids.

"SEPH!"

That is actually definitely still her voice.

He twists around, eyes wide, and the world spins for a moment - too much momentum too fast with the state that he's in. But Sephiroth doesn't care. His eyes just search past the massive piece of brickwork that Angeal has dragged forward, and he can see it - that long brown hair, pulled back in a ponytail held back with that familiar pink ribbon that struck out to him even in childhood, and a pair of vivid green eyes that he could pick out in a crowd.

Aerith is rushing back, fast as she can, a backpack there upon her thin shoulders.

She is also on top of a Chocobo that he is almost positive was stolen from somewhere else.

There's not even a moment spared to bring the massive bird to a stop. Aerith just scrambles off of it, feet on the saddle straps, before she leaps off and nearly stumbles. Very nearly faceplants straight there in the dirt and old bricks that have been left behind in Angeal's wake.

"Go!" she squawks, stumbling forward faster than someone should be able to go when they can barely keep their own balance. It's at that exact uneven and breakneck pace that she slips right past Angeal, past Genesis. Nearly past Sephiroth before he catches her in his arms. Past the debris, he can see the chocobo is wasting absolutely no time in squawking wildly and spinning around to bolt off. "Come on, ShinRa is everywhere!"

What is she doing. Sephiroth doesn't have any time to question her, however, nor even just toss her back through the hole and into Midgar proper. Angeal calls back to them, no small amounts of aggravated. "Alright, move it or lose it, I'm not holding it forever!"

"But Aerith-" There's no time for any of his buts. Genesis slams his shoulder into him, forces him through the opening with Aerith still in hand, and then Angeal soon follows. There's a dull but ear ringing clang that slams through his head, and then that's it. That's it.

All of them stand there on what is officially ground out of Midgar, barren from any trace of life, and with three more people in the group than should be.

Sephiroth feels suddenly very certain that every single one is his fault. He knows, in at least two of those cases, he's directly responsible.

"Alright!" Aerith exclaims, breathless, completely content to ignore how she's being stared at by a multitude of people, with what is admittedly some variation of expressions. "We should get going, shouldn't we? There's no time to waste, I think that's how this sort of thing goes."

Sephiroth tries to do a breathing exercise that he recalls reading about, once upon a time, because he doesn't know what on earth he's going to do otherwise. "Aerith, you shouldn't be here."

Already, there's that particular glint in her eyes which says she's going to be stubborn about everything, and he's fully prepared to dig his heels into the whole matter in turn. There's no reason that she should be here. She should be safe, back in Midgar, sinking underneath the radar of everything while ShinRa gets up in arms about his own existence.

Before either of them can keep going, however, Gillian sharply claps her hands together. "We're all still wanted criminals, plus the hostages we've taken," she says simply. "Any arguments can happen until we've at least gotten to an area with cover - so far away from Midgar, and the barrens as well for that matter. ShinRa has all sorts of experimental death traps masquerading as machines out here as added security, so we shouldn't dally. Genesis, cover our rear, please, and I'll take over the front. Yes, I know that look, Angeal, but you should still carry Rosso until Sephiroth feels a little more steady, alright?"

There's no arguing with her logic. If they get wrapped up in their own personal drama, then they'll just get themselves caught when they've gone through so much trouble to evade that exact thing.

So off they all go, immediately heading down to the mountains in the south which rise up in stark contrast to the barren fields where Midgar lays itself. Contrasts in those jagged peaks, contrasts in the shimmering greens which creep up, even the difference from dead gray to deep brown.

Sephiroth tries to keep his eyes focused on it as their group keeps walking, because he doesn't know what else to do in a situation like this one.

...Well. Maybe he does have something of an idea, and hopefully he can keep control of himself well enough to not let things fall apart into an argument like Gillian had warned them away from. "Why did you come and follow us?" he asks Aerith quietly. At his other side, Lazard's own pace starts to outstrip his own, despite Sephiroth being both a bit taller and more experienced out in the field. This leaves him lagging behind the others a bit, although not nearly enough to bump back into Genesis keeping their rear guarded.

Aerith hums, skipping a little bit while her fingers wind tight around the straps of her backpack. Surely there can't actually be anything substantial in there, no matter that it seems packed to the brim, and haphazardly, too. "It just felt like the right thing to do," she finally says.

The right thing to do. Sephiroth frowns, head tilting down just slightly. That doesn't make any sense. He knows that Aerith seems to not make a lot of sense normally, just being how she is, but this is a bit far even for her. "It's the right thing to leave everything you know behind you, including the woman that cares for you, and the life you made?" he asks, dubious. "To go off with a group of criminals wanted by the most powerful corporation in the world?"

If there's any right response to a question like that, it's likely not Aerith's own, which is to smile up at him as though they're just going on any old stroll through the slums, or maybe somewhere far nicer. A place that would suit Aerith so much better. "Even if you're criminals... It's still you, Sephiroth." She looks back towards the front, bangs briefly hiding her expression from this angle. "And anyway... If I can be a little bit honest with you, I think... I think I wasn't meant to stay in Midgar forever." Her foot swings out, sending a rock skittering along dirt that is becoming a little more brown rather than a dull gray.

"Why not? It seemed to me as though you could keep things going as they were for some time," Sephiroth points out. Perhaps indeed not forever, for that is something which can't be left in the hands of a mortal person with a life that would eventually end... But a good few more years, certainly. Perhaps even longer, if she had fortune on her side and was somewhat clever.

But Aerith only shakes her head. "I hate being weak and having to hide all the time, you know," she says, and he almost pauses, there. At the very least, he says not a word. "But fighting scares me just as much, sometimes... At least, I hate it as much as I can. So I thought for a long time that I wasn't really sure on what I wanted to do, or how I wanted to change things."

Her head tilts back, ponytail slipping past the bulk of her backpack and falling somewhere out of sight. She barely notices. All she notices, all that is reflected in those verdant eyes of hers, would be the massive blue sky which watches over their journey.

"But I think I know now." Despite all the danger that they've just barely managed to escape, Aerith still smiles. She smiles as though taking a breath of air for the first time in her life... and with how thick the smog in Midgar can be, perhaps she's enjoying this much as well. "I think, as long as I'm with you and all the others... I think it should be fine." Lowering her head down, gaze back to earth, she hums. "And, anyway..." She pauses, laughs, and then looks back to him with that grin of hers. "With a group like yours, you'll need someone who isn't infamous to go check things out ahead of time!"

Maybe that's logical, but Sephiroth has never known Aerith to be a person of logic, whether as a child or apparently as an adolescent. For now... For now, he decides he doesn't care.

For now, before he can get himself lost in the details.... Sephiroth decides he's just glad he has her, even if for a short while.