This Is Your Chance
A Rufus Shinra story
--Chapter Two--
Forget it…
…not possible…
…where...
No, not there…
It’s gone…
…over…
It was the aftermath. Everyone was gone, gone for good. After the assault by Diamond WEAPON and the destruction of it right afterward, everything was believed to be dead now; the company, their spirits, their ambitions, but more importantly, their beloved President. But some failed to believe it. They did not want to believe that Shinra was completely over now. It couldn’t be. Not after all of this. Sephiroth was still under threat and they had to do something about it. But who could step up? What could be done? Their President was dead. Heidegger and Scarlet had been killed by the very own weapon they had crafted themselves – certainly the Turks were much too low to believe they could ever run such an operation. But now they didn’t even have anyone to take orders from. They had Tseng, of course, but Tseng couldn’t say much either without someone to look up to.
It had been several days now. Most of the Turks randomly decided that they should scout the premises of what remained of Shinra, just in case. Maybe, just maybe they’d find something to help them. To lead them on; on what they should be doing. Maybe, they could find their President, too.
As the few in numbers approached the dismantled area, tripping over rubble and staring upon the destruction of their home town, the only thing heard was the quiet murmurs and coughs, and the crunching of pebbles along the destroyed ground beneath their feet. Most had their heads hung, staring at the ground, trying to forget everything that had happened in the past few days. Everything they had ever grown up around was completely destroyed, just as it had reached its highpoint. They were still young, they didn’t understand; maybe, but they certainly weren’t fit to handle it. And now above all things, the world was going to end, and there was nothing they could do about it.
One male, still dressed in his imperfect style of his dark blue suit, crouched around the ground and picked up a large chuck of cement and bent steel pipes here and there and upturned them, turning them away and giving the constant reminder to himself that this job was absolutely pointless and that he would he finding nothing. He sniffled and rubbed his finger beneath his nose as dust rose into his senses, huffing slightly. He then ruffled his spiky red hair, pulling at his rat tail to suit it more comfortably against his skull. He was about ready to just give in and turn his back. But just like everyone else, he knew he couldn’t do it.
After up heaving several more chucks of rock, he kicked one out of frustration and instantly regretted doing so. Sitting down promptly upon a pile of powered cement and rock, he pressed down upon his dress boot to rid himself of the pain. His voice broke through the bleeding silence as he cursed the rubble. “Damn it! Why do we have to be around here, anyway? It’s just full of bad memories, yo! And stupid rocks, rocks, and more rocks!! Oh yeah, did I mention rocks?”
“Calm yourself, Reno.” Another taller Turk murmured bluntly; he wasn’t any happier to be here than the rest of them were. He wore the same dark blue suit as Reno did, but his was more properly tucked and straightened. He would brush away any bit of dust that attempted to come near. As if to match up with the rest of his seeming perfection, he had long sleek midnight hair where the shortest ends were tied in the back; the rest left undone. He also had a peculiar mark on his forehead that no one seemed to know the origin of. “Remember, we’re here for a reason. We have to see if there are any survivors, namely our President.”
“Hooligans, Tseng! He’s dead, how could he have survived that blast, yo? It completely destroyed the seventieth floor! No way!” Reno snapped back, shifting his weight upwards so that he could stand. He swerved a bit back and forth, dusted himself off and coughed a few more times. “There’s nothing here but junk, and a half broken building. We should just forget it. It’s over, it’s all over.”
Tseng stared back at the derelict building and sighed, crossing his arms. “It doesn’t matter. What if he is? It’s possible, although improbable…” The older Turk seemed to be having conflicts with coping himself. No one wanted to believe he was dead. But maybe that was just the truth. He wasn’t about to give up, however, as he raised his head in slight determination. “But we’re going to keep on searching. We’re Turks, we don’t quit out. What if one of you was in danger and everyone just gave up on you?”
Several of the other dark suited cronies looked up in recognition; they wouldn’t want to be left for the dead, they were thinking. This gave them the fuel to keep looking. They returned to their duties and resumed scavenging through the broken debris. Reno huffed in annoyance, patting down his jacket and turning away, doing the same.
Elsewhere, far off within the ruined remains of Shinra... It was much colder, much darker beneath the piles. There was a chilling stillness, but just below – a figure was slightly astir. But the remains were much too heavy, but too dark, and therefore left the laying figure in comatose – at least for now.
It’s so dark...
And cold...
Where am I...?But he would not be answered. Aside from darkness, that was. He desperately tried to open his eyes; unless they already were, he couldn’t tell. It was too dark. He tried to move, but he was paralyzed.
Why can’t I see...?
Or move...Suddenly, he heard a familiar sound. Something he hadn’t heard in a long while, or at least what he thought was a long while... He wasn’t sure; how long had he been asleep? How long had he been in the Lifestream? He knew that any amount of time could have passed when floating through there... There was no telling the passage of time in that plane of reality. None at all. All you did was float aimlessly, after all. Time didn’t matter.
“Ah, shaddap Elena! I don’t need smack from you!” shouted the all-familiar red head; he knew that voice anywhere. But why was it taking him so long to realize his surroundings? He opened his mouth to speak, maybe get some attention; someone to help him... but nothing came. “I’m looking over there! Geez!”
“Reno!! Aw, darn it...” That voice. That was... a female Turk... what was her name? Didn’t the carrot top just say it? “Fine! Mister, ‘Elena, do this, do that... Elena do this for me! Do that for me!! Jerk...”
It was Elena. He tried and tried again to say something, but again nothing would come to him. But he had to keep trying; he had to say something, if even a groan; anything to get their attention.
I want out of here, he thought. Out of this darkness... Pain after all was beginning to make its slow creep up his spine, and through his legs and arms... Ah, feeling. How he had waited for the feeling of extreme pain to course through his fragile and broken body... Not.
This time he tried with all of his might. He felt his jaw move, and if he choked out hard enough, maybe a sound would come out. He twitched, shifted a centimeter or two, and forced what little air he had in his broken lungs out.
“..eeell..”
Well, it was a good shot. But at least now he knew that he could produce sound of some kind. He tried again.
“Eeeel... eeellaaa...”
There was a shift in the rocks, as if someone was walking by, but stopped. “Hey, did you hear that?” the young blonde called out. She received a negative response. “I think I heard something!”
Yes, they could hear him! At least one of them could... that’s all mattered. It fueled his determination to live. “Elllaaa.. Nn... ellaaa...naa..” He gasped and choked. He was choking now; he could feel it. Heavy weight all around him. His chest, his back, his legs... In mentioning his legs, they seemed to hurt even worse. In fact, if he tried hard enough, he could tell that they were not shaped quite right. Possibly completely out of place and bent in ways they shouldn’t be. Maybe that was what cold liquid he was feeling... possibly, blood. He most certainly hoped not. But then as his nerves further awakened throughout his body, he felt that there was a slight gap. One area of his body that was not covered in heavy weight. His left arm. He shifted his head another few centimeters, and forced his fingers to twitch.
Boy, was this the most extreme workout he’s ever gotten. It was so much more difficult when you’re possibly broken into several dozen pieces, he established.
“Forget it! It’s not possible!” shouted the red head. He made a mental note to force him into his position and see how he liked it some day.
“I swear, I heard something!” apparently, she had mentioned that before when he wasn’t paying attention. But their voices were rather faint. But then, he heard the crunching of rock once more. “Oh god!! President!”
Maybe they had noticed him. “That’s a severed pipe, Elena!” Maybe not. “Stop imagining things!”
Suddenly, there was a shift in weight. A great amount of pressure was lifted from his back, and suddenly there was a crack of light out of the corner of his eye. “Oh god! Mister President!” Elena never seemed to wear that word out. He felt himself crack the smallest smile, and more weight was shifted off of his body. “Reno, come quickly!!”
“What are you– Oh Jesus! Okay, I’ll help you!”
Maybe now would be the suitable time to rest easy. With that thought, he again fell into the sinking darkness.
--
Just as he had been adjusting to that welcoming, cold and embracing darkness, he slowly began to stir again. But this environment, unlike the last, was very much different. It wasn’t cold or dark, it was actually very bright and warm. However, his nerves woke up much more quickly this time. Pain instantly shot up his spine and all throughout his body, and his instant reaction was to raise his lip and twitch in a disgruntled manner. “...ngh...”
“Mister President?” This time, voice recognition also came much faster, but it still took him a second to realize. She seemed to turn away, which he wasn’t noticing being that his eyes were still closed. She spoke to another person. “Will he be okay?”
At first the voices were too faded for him to understand. But eventually his radio tuned into the proper station. “...suffered a lot of damage, his brain isn’t functioning properly...” more fuzziness. “...broken, his arms aren’t broken but they are badly fractured... his legs are the worst, however..” Oh screw it, he wasn’t going to waste his precious concentration on this babbling doctor. He was just fine, he just stung a little.
He moved his right arm to gesture something. “Aaaghk!” his brain screamed in pain. He knew that if he was properly conscious he wouldn’t had spluttered that out. Immediately a caring hand held his arm down.
“Oh, mister President, please don’t move. You’re badly hurt.” Elena pleaded quietly, patting his arm gently. Ow, ow, ow. “You’re so lucky though, we all thought you were dead.
Oh yes, just ice the cake, Elena. Add some strawberries and flowers, why don’t you?
“You died twice in the ER...”
Just shut up...
“..but the doctors managed to save you. But they think you won’t make it by tomorrow.”
Why would the President of the world (in a matter of speaking) care for such nonsense? Why couldn’t he stay dead? Why did he have to be damned and return to the very world which he brought upon its very destruction? It or they (the neanderthals that lived upon it) would eventually kill him off anyway.
“It’s been three weeks since we found you...”
There weeks!?
Three weeks!?
“The world nearly ended...”
Good news.
“But it was saved by AVALANCHE, supposedly.”
Elena never really did learn how to shut up. And out of the very suctioning black hole that it had crawled into, his voice exposed itself a little clearer. “God damn... Elena... shut up...” How he managed to spurt a few brain cells at the most convenient moment was still beyond his understanding, but at least he overcame another grueling task.
“What?” Apparently, Elena wasn’t exactly used to receiving responses from the dead. She had been used to talking to the unanimated body, for possibly the entire three weeks he had been in a coma. He pitied his poor ears. He wondered once more how it was possible he wasn’t deaf by now, from his ears just closing up entirely from the constant sound of Elena’s a annoying voice. But at least it was better than...
“Hey! Elena! Is Ruff boy awake yet? Or are you still talking to dead people?”
Oh god, no... Not carrot top. Please, please, let the Lifestream take him back.
“No, he’s awake.”
(More to come.)
