Chapter Text
Genesis would’ve liked to say he felt it coming. That he’d woken up in chills or that there had been anything more than the normal dread when Sephiroth took Cloud for training, or something equally poetic. Instead, it had been a normal day until a report came in that Sephiroth had decided to start burning down the world.
That initial report hadn’t been panicked, since the General’s warpath had only hit Wutai and Shinra didn’t really care what happened to them unless it would push them into surrendering faster. There had even been a boost in morale for most of the Soldiers present. The war had been going on eight years strong, after all. Anything that could end it even a day faster was a blessing.
For Genesis, and Angeal as well, it caused nothing but a stab of fear. Sephiroth hadn’t cared about the war since it started. If anything, Genesis had long suspected it benefited him. So while the others had celebrated the approach of victory, they went in search of where Sephiroth and Cloud trained together.
There hadn’t been a body. Angeal had been shocked at the blood, new and old, that seemed to coast the place, but Genesis had already known about that. He could only feel relief; thank the Goddess there wasn’t a body.
(Genesis prayed that meant Cloud wasn’t dead, because there was nothing else he could do. It was a sick routine, at that point)
Their timing had been lucky, too, in the most morbid sense. The Silver Demon had already returned to camp by the time they came back, and there hadn’t been a single survivor. There hadn’t even been anyone in one piece.
The situation normal since then had changed from the general misery of war to active hell on Gaia.
When they finally found a way to contact Shinra Tower in the remains of the camp, both Firsts had expected bad news. They were still unprepared for the reality of it. Sephiroth had already torn through every camp south of them and a half-dozen towns as he headed east, more like a natural disaster than an attack. The president had put out an order to kill him at all costs. Genesis would’ve loved to wish them luck on finding anyone foolish enough to try, but as the only Soldier Firsts currently confirmed to be alive and unmaimed the mission had unfortunately fallen to them. And Genesis…
If anyone would know where Cloud was it was that bastard. Genesis was more than willing to brush with death for the chance to know whether that kid was alive. Angeal had already more than proven he felt the same.
So, it seemed Shinra had their fools. Good for them.
Incoming information had only become grimmer as they waited for their transport to arrive. Sephiroth had finished painting a crimson streak across the western continent, forming a sickening pattern of destruction. Most places had been destroyed casually, seemingly just unfortunate enough to be in his path to his actual destinations. Evacuations hadn’t been effective since by the time they figured out where he was headed, he was already there. Some places, like Nibelheim, weren’t entirely unforeseeable, apparently having been the only place the monster had ever been before Wutai, but others were just… odd.
(Honestly, Genesis couldn’t fathom a reason a town named Gongaga would need to be so thoroughly decimated, but he supposed he’d rather not understand the mind of someone so unhinged.)
The sun fell and rose again as they were being shipped to Midgar, hoping to intercept Sephiroth before he massacred their largest city. That plan crashed and burned quite literally around sunrise as the reports of the plates falling one by one grew increasingly panicked up until they cut off entirely. It was horrifying, but at that point everyone was expecting it. If so many people weren’t dead, it might have been a sick relief for the anticipation to finally break; as it was, Genesis was just glad for a distraction from his shaking hands.
There was no real way to prepare to meet your death, he had found through that long night. They couldn’t exactly prepare for the fight as most of their supplies had been destroyed in the camp. The war taught them to carry what they needed on them, at least, so they both had their swords, including Angeal’s broadsword, and Genesis had his bracer along with a few ethers. The two of them couldn’t prepare a strategy, either. The General had never shown much interest in the war, and when he did enter battle he tended to do it with only Cloud by his side. Neither of them had ever seen him fight before.
Genesis had experience with the aftermath of his fights. However, that didn’t tell him anything on how he fought other than ‘viciously’, and that wasn’t anything seeing the decimation of their camp couldn’t have told them. Besides, Angeal still didn’t know why Genesis had taken such a sudden interest in healing, and Genesis had no interest in breaking his silence on that now.
(Ironic, that he hadn’t told him to avoid Angeal doing something idiotic like challenging the General and dying. It seems the goddess’ plans can’t be foiled by mere men.)
Their final hour as they caught up to the trail of destruction was quiet, and it only got quieter as it neared the end. Most of the people that had been sending messages had been in Midgar, and those that weren’t had less and less to say. Maybe some were dead. Maybe others had realized that it didn’t matter what you said when everyone who heard it was either dead or would be soon.
Maybe Genesis was a fool for spending the end of his life listening closely to every report they do receive. Angeal certainly wasn’t, too busy staring at his Buster Sword so intensely that he probably wouldn’t notice a bomb going off, and whoever was flying them straight to their deaths (probably a member of the infantry, since their eyes didn’t have the glow of a Soldier, and a Turk wouldn’t look so afraid) was clearly only listening enough to head in the right direction. Genesis listened anyway; not because he particularly wanted to keep up with the devastation, of course. (Those few reports that spoke of Sephiroth’s location head south from Midgar, and there weren’t many places he could be going from there. Selfishly, Genesis hopes that it’s not Banora, if only for Angeal’s sake). He listens because any one of them could mention a blond-haired boy and Genesis would spend the rest of his life listening to people slowly giving up just to know that Cloud was alive.
(He probably was spending the rest of his life doing that, but that was a bit of a dramatic way to put it, even for him.)
Part of him was certain that Cloud was dead. They hadn’t been able to find a body, but for all they knew it had already been taken by Sephiroth or the Lifestream. Besides, as much as he wished that Cloud was somewhere safe, he knew that little idiot wouldn’t just let this happen. If Genesis heard anything, it would be him challenging the Silver Demon, and he’d already seen how those fights end.
The rest of him refused to believe he could be dead.
Genesis was about to get himself killed, but his worst-case scenario wasn’t his own death. His worst-case scenario was that Cloud was already dead, and he’s about to get his best friend killed for no reason. (His worst-case scenario would be if he survived and they didn’t.)
Eventually, the smell of smoke entered the air before becoming visible in the distance. Every other town they’d approached had been silent and still in death, but it seemed they’d finally caught up. The end was nigh, then.
(When Genesis was younger, in Banora, he’d been fixated on his and Angeal’s lives being like Loveless. The war had stripped him of that, taught him that the world was no story. That blood on your hands looked the same whether it’s from allies or enemies, and the only difference lay in whether you wanted the nauseating warmth of it to run cold. He’d recited the story he loved to comfort himself, to keep focused even when he’d cast enough that his vision lost focus, and that had stained it as red as everything else that was his.
At the end, Genesis hoped again that, if the world could follow that story, it went like this:
Cloud flees, never to be found by his tormentor, and he finds somewhere he can be happy. Angeal returns triumphant, a hero and honorable and all those things he believed in once and maybe even believe again. And if one of them must die to complete those verses?
Well, Genesis had already given up his chance to run, and he certainly wouldn’t certainly make for a great hero. That left only one role. He prayed to the Goddess that if one of them had to perish here, it would be him.)
Once they touched down and entered the town, it became clear why they were finally able to catch up; Sephiroth had stopped to wait for them. The fire had been burning for some time and there hadn’t been any bodies left. Everyone was either long dead or already fled. The only reason the Silver General was still there was for the two of them.
Genesis hadn’t truly considered that possibility. The only reason he’d ever done more than glance at them was because of Cloud, so what reason was there for him to care now?
Something else becomes clear the moment they see him. Cloud was alive. The bastard wouldn’t look so composed if he wasn’t. This wasn’t a furious rampage at the loss of whatever Cloud was to him. Instead, is was a methodical plan, though Genesis wasn’t sure of the purpose. (It couldn’t be to lure out Cloud, because how would the man have lost him in the first place?)
Sephiroth clearly knew exactly where they were, his eyes already fixed on them long before they’d come into view. Genesis wasn’t surprised; he always seemed to find them quickly when he wanted something. Orders were to attack immediately, but without the element of surprise there was little point. Besides, there was something more important.
“Where is he?”
It’s Angeal that asked the question that was haunting them both.
Sephiroth smiled just a bit, and the threat of it had nothing to do with the bearing of teeth. It stemmed instead from the impression that he was suddenly entertained.
“Oh, such devotion. I wouldn’t have thought you two capable of it.”
He ignored the question, and Genesis just hoped that meant that he didn’t know either somehow. It was unusual that he’d responded to it at all, though. In the past, even when he’d bothered to speak to them, he never seemed to care for their input. It never felt like he was speaking to them either; when he looked at them, they never truly had his attention. Genesis supposed they weren’t relevant to bother giving more than a moment’s thought, and whenever he’d been forced to interact with the Silver General, it left him feeling both thoroughly frustrated and cold to his core.
Now, he just understood that the General was probably right in thinking that; whatever Sephiroth was seemed past their understanding. He didn’t have to pay attention to them because even if they had attacked, they’d be little more than nuisances.
In that moment, though, it seemed like he was fully addressing them for the first time. There was something there, a tone Genesis didn’t recognize, at the thought of the being devoted.
“I suppose my Tempest has a tendency to gain the loyalty of those who don’t know their place.”
Was it just because of the connection to Cloud? He spoke of the idea that they could care about Cloud, that he could have their loyalty, like it was laughable, but since when had Sephiroth ever bothered to have an opinion on them?
He was wrong about them, but there was one thing he was right about. Genesis had no particular interest in knowing his damn place.
There was no point in talking if it wouldn’t get them answers. Genesis responded instead with the first strike, and the clash of blades and magic began.
The fight went on longer than they could have hoped, and it was clear to both of them that it was only because Sephiroth was playing with them. Worse yet, he was playing with them and they still couldn’t so much as graze him. It seemed that almost anything they did, the demon saw it coming. Genesis has no idea how the man got so familiar with how they fought, but it made this already one-sided fight into a show only the General knew the script of.
It became apparent as the fight continued, though that they had one advantage. However Sephiroth had learned their fighting styles was a double-edged sword; he might know most things, but he didn’t know everything, and he wasn’t prepared for them to do anything else.
Genesis first saw it with something that, by every possible measure, Sephiroth of all people should have been aware of.
A strike from Angeal went poorly, with his Buster Sword’s strike being redirected by Masamune from Sephiroth to where Genesis was standing close behind in preparation to strike. Genesis managed to dodge quickly enough that he didn’t get his head taken off, but Angeal was still set off balance by the move and Sephiroth, moving almost too fast to be seen, drove Masamune’s hilt into the back of Angeal’s head.
The momentum of the Angeal’s strike followed by the hit plowed him straight into Genesis, and even though he’s able to keep them both from flying straight into the nearest wall, it’s a close enough thing that it was yet another moment that would have been the end of them if Sephiroth were actually trying. As it was, it pushed them out of Masamune’s (absurdly long) range, and he didn’t pursue, just watched like he was trying to preserve the sight of them at his mercy.
Sephiroth’s lack of interest in moving from his spot worked in their favor, so Genesis wouldn’t complain about the humiliation of it. Angeal wasn’t moving to get off him, and with the force behind that blow Genesis wasn’t surprised. Luckily, Angeal was nothing if not hard-headed, and it only took two Curagas in quick succession for his Sense to confirm that he was well enough to push over. Normally he’d cast a third one, but he couldn’t muster the magic for more than the necessities; he’d been lightheaded a dozen spells ago, and the only thing that kept his vision clear and his movements fast was enough adrenaline to kill someone unenhanced.
Weirdly enough, though, when Angeal finally got moving again, Genesis noticed that, for the first time since this fight started, Sephiroth didn’t seem to have expected it. It’s small, just a cock of the head and a slight shift to his smirk, but it’s a strange reaction. It couldn’t be that he hadn’t expected him to still be able to cast, since every other spell hadn’t even been blinked at. It couldn’t be that he had been expecting him to choose not to heal Angeal, since that would be absurd enough that he hadn’t even considered it.
It's almost like he hadn’t expected Genesis to be able to heal Angeal.
After that, Genesis watched for it. There were little things that he didn’t expect them to do, and they were always so basic. He thought that the constant surprise at his healing would be the weirdest thing, since Sephiroth should know how good of a healer he was after four years of leaving him to stitch Cloud back together. However, even that was topped by Sephiroth’s reaction to Angeal using the Buster Sword. It didn’t strike Genesis immediately, it wasn’t like Angeal used the thing outside of emergencies, but the way Sephiroth’s counter of it kept changing stuck out.
How Sephiroth responded to Angeal seemed to depend entirely on whether Genesis was also attacking. When Genesis was also giving it his all to at least draw blood, Sephiroth blocked and deflected it like it was a much smaller sword. In fact, he was treating like it was the broadsword Angeal still had sheathed at his hip. That alone was exploitable, but even more exploitable was that the second Genesis backed off to cast a spell or use one of his ethers, Sephiroth started treating it like a sword of its size but wielded differently.
Goddess only knew what it meant but it was something. It was a weakness. Genesis would be a fool not to use it, and he had done enough of that in choosing to be here.
Genesis backed off for a moment, and a slitted eye flicked to him. The delight in Sephiroth’s demeanor increased a fraction. He knew Genesis was planning something, but that worked to his favor this time; since Sephiroth had yet to notice his own mistake, he wouldn’t be expecting him to exploit it.
Angeal noticed too and began pushing forward than before until Genesis finally saw his chance. Sephiroth blocked a half-second too early with just a touch too little force, like he was fighting someone a faster but a bit less strong than Angeal, and Genesis moved in. If he thrusted at him like he normally would, the demon would probably push the Buster Sword away to block, so instead Genesis went for a different angle; he took a shot he knew Sephiroth could block without pushing Angeal away, and, for the first time today, something went right.
Sephiroth angled Masamune to block them both at once, shifting it to put more strength towards blocking Rapier. The move would have worked fine with the lighter broadsword, but the Buster was instead given room and power to strike towards his face.
Genesis didn’t have to tell Angeal to act, and he especially didn’t have to tell him to move as far back as possible afterwards. It went fluidly, and for just a second, Angeal’s sword slashed into Sephiroth’s right cheek.
The cut was thin, but it bled the same off-red color Cloud did, and for just a moment the Sephiroth seemed to be caught off guard. Then, the shock dropped like it had never been there, and the Silver General struck first for the first time since the fight began.
The fight got fiercer after that, but Genesis had been expecting that. If anything it was a good sign; Sephiroth was putting in some effort, and they still weren’t dead yet. It was undeniable that they were feeling the pressure, with every strike getting harder and faster and drawing more blood than the one before. It took everything they had to keep pace, and Sephiroth was still clearly not giving it his all.
Despite the challenge, though, they kept drawing blood. A miniscule amount compared to how many times they’d been sliced into, and it healed fast enough that it really didn’t have an effect, but each one was deeper than the last as they got better at reading him.
Until, it seemed, that pattern ended as Genesis managed to push his luck just a bit too far.
Angeal had been pushed away, was somewhere behind the demon, but Genesis was busy trying to keep his head on shoulders and couldn’t focus on where he had landed. Masamune pushed against his Rapier with enough strength that it kept creeping closer to his neck, even with Sephiroth only using one hand. Genesis wished it was the blood loss or overcasting that had left him so overpowered, but it was more likely the Demon was just ceasing to find them entertaining. Then, with some movement that was too fast to catch, the aim of Masamune shifted down and pushed Rapier out of Genesis’ hands.
Sephiroth’s face lit up with glee as he shifted to run him through, Genesis , panicked, used his bracer to cast a Firaga, and by some miracle it worked. Sephiroth hadn’t expected him to cast with his bracer, and he had to shift back in order to avoid the spell. He was off balance for just a moment, but it was long enough for Angeal to strike; to the surprise of both their foe and Genesis, the Buster came from behind, and went straight through Sephiroth’s chest. Straight through his heart, if he even had one.
Genesis had healed a lot of people and killed many more; he knew a lethal blow when he saw it.
For one glorious moment, they’d won. Angeal pulled out the Buster Sword, and they both just stopped, trying to catch their breath despite the smoke and exhaustion. Genesis grabbed Rapier from where it had been thrown from his hands and managed a pair of Cures without blacking out for more than an instant. Neither had any major injuries, anything to grievous having been healed during battle where he could, but both of them were covered in enough blood from when they had been there that it was best to avoid risking that he’d missed something.
On a good day, he wouldn’t have let a cursory Cure pass as an actual check after most of the injuries they’d sustained. On an average day, he would have at least made it a Curaga. As it was, the adrenaline was probably the only reason Genesis wasn’t fainting like some kind of damsel.
They’d been preparing to get moving again, hoping to find some kind of radio intact in the burned wreckage. Then, whatever triumph they’d felt, even the little hope they’d had during the fight, it all died in the way it seemed the Demon couldn’t.
Genesis’s instinctive response to the singing of a sword speeding towards him was the only thing that kept his head on his shoulders. The arm he’d used to block was only saved by his bracer, which cracked straight in half.
The world stopped making much sense after that. Sephiroth was alive, and attacking, and his face was elated past anything they’d seen in the fight before. The wound from the blow to his heart wasn’t just gone, but erased, even the blood spilled gone. Every other wound had similarly disappeared, and despite that fact that his body should still be cooling on the ground his actions were only faster and more vicious.
There was little you could do when the reality ceased to seem real. In their case, all they could do was not die, and try to find some way to win.
They had already failed at the latter. With fatigue, overcasting, and blood loss from wounds that were healed as fast as possible with what remained of Genesis’s bracer, it was only a matter of time until surviving became impossible as well.
They tried. Genesis would swear until the day he died (if only it weren’t today) that they tried to kill him. From some perspective they even succeeded at killing him, the bastard just wouldn’t stay dead. Once, twice more they managed to down him for just a second, but he only got up faster each time. Genesis stopped counting quickly, unable to follow the battle and fight it at the same time. Eventually they couldn’t even manage to strike a lethal blow. They could barely draw blood by the time the Demon decided to finish them off.
Angeal managed to block a blow from Sephiroth with his sword, but the sheer force behind it plowed him off his feet and straight into one of the few buildings that hadn’t completely crumbled. It collapsed on top of him.
He wasn’t getting back up from that.
And Genesis couldn’t win this alone.
There was no time for him to even try to see if Angeal was just unconscious or already dead before Sephiroth pounced towards him. He managed to dodge the first stab, but Genesis knew he couldn’t block a blow at this point. Angeal had barely managed to keep from being disarmed during each clash of swords, and even if Genesis’s right arm weren’t completely numb from continuing to overcast with a broken bracer, Angeal had always been the stronger of the two.
Sephiroth moved to thrust again while Genesis was still off balance from dodging, and he knew he couldn’t block it. He brought up his sword anyways.
They tried. He swore it, with the Goddess as his witness. It didn’t help. Masamune still goes through the right side off his chest, but at least Genesis won’t have stopped fighting to the end.
The blow had far too much force behind it regardless, because despite the absurd length of the sword, Genesis had been impaled to almost the hilt. Rapier drops from his grip, and his hand uselessly grabs at the Demon’s sword as he tries to think of anything he could do that would at least spite the bastard before he died. Sephiroth glanced down at that show of final desperation and back up to him, and, for the first time, Genesis could tell that the demon’s full focus was on him. Sephiroth had clearly been enjoying the thrill of the fight before that, but with the battle over he was seeing something other than an obstacle or an opponent.
In that instant, Sephiroth looked almost satisfied.
Then he twisted Masamune so the sword’s edge was faced away from Genesis’s heart and sliced to the side.
Burning pain and the warmth of blood spilled came immediately, and he fell to his knees almost as soon as the sword was no longer holding him up. A gasping inhale turned into a cough, as his lungs tried to get rid of blood that invaded them more and more with every passing second. He couldn’t even breathe past it, his mind phasing into a haze as he kept failing to inhale. It wasn’t a survivable wound, not with his clarity fading and his magic spent; he’s failed to save enough people to know when it was time to give up.
But… somewhere here was Angeal, unconscious under a crumbled building. If Genesis died now, Angeal would as well. Their transport had likely already left, and Shinra wouldn’t send anyone to retrieve them, If there were even enough people left to try.
Somewhere out there was Cloud, who had feared this exact scenario. Who had told them every step of the way that loving him would get them killed someday. Who already had nightmares they never spoke of about losing the people he cared about.
Genesis was selfish, but even he wasn’t cold-hearted to do that to them. To let Angeal die, and to leave Cloud more alone than when they’d met.
He might have been out of magic already, but if it could save him now he would just have to handle casting far, far past his limit. The worst that could happen was that it would kill him, and that would still probably be better than suffocating on his own blood. (It would mean he kept trying).
The world blurred past that, nothing left but the use of magic and all the stubbornness he had left. His vision had long since darkened, and his hearing was faded even ignoring the ringing that he couldn’t use the sound of his heart to pass the marking of time. His head spun too quickly to even really think. The only thing he was really aware of was the pain. It was hard to tell what hurt more; the wound itself, his lungs with every forced breath, or the horrible sensation as his right arm went from entirely numb to burning agony that only spread as he kept trying to heal.
There was no telling how long he spent trying to knit himself back together, but eventually Genesis was at the point where, if he didn’t breathe too deeply, the suffocating catch in his breath tapered off. He wasn’t any less dizzy, but it finally stopped worsening. It wasn’t perfect, healing magic was only as good as it was directed to be, so being able to breathe at all was as good as he was going to get currently.
His vision didn’t clear as he’d hoped once his body stopped actively dying, but with some focus he managed to gauge his surroundings.
Genesis was on the ground, luckily on his uninjured side, and he wasn’t quite sure when that happened. Last he’d remembered, he’d been on his knees. Sitting up was a struggle, and he may have blacked out for a moment in the process, but he managed it. The area was empty now, Sephiroth having left at some point, but so long as he didn’t return to finish them Genesis would just consider that a blessing.
(If the bastard did return to finish them off, Genesis was fighting the Goddess herself in the afterlife)
Since death was no longer imminent, his first priority was getting Angeal. That would require standing, though, and considering the struggle just to get upright there was no chance that would go well. Genesis searched to his side in an attempt to find Rapier in hopes of using his sword to help himself up, but it wasn’t where he half remembered dropping it. It wasn’t even out of reach, simply gone, and he knows he hadn’t somehow sent it away on the brink of death.
At some point Genesis would have to seriously wonder where the hell his sword was. For now, though, he simply resigned himself to getting to Angeal without the crutch. He probably wouldn’t have been able to hold it with his hand as it was anyway.
Standing was an arduous task that, in all honesty, Genesis wasn’t certain how he’d managed. The actual effort was just a gap of lost time. If he stayed on his feet, though, he wouldn’t have to figure it out. He couldn’t hear Angeal’s heartbeat from here (it was only because of the ringing in his ears, it had to be), so he had to try and remember where exactly he’d been thrown through thoughts that refused to work with him.
He got lucky that time, because one spot had already been partly dug up, exposing Angeal’s hand. It seemed the Buster had been stolen as well. The only one who could have done that was Sephiroth, but why would he want their swords? Actually, Genesis didn’t even want to know; more importantly, Angeal was located and somewhat unburied. He’d just consider that his first win of the day.
His hands were less coordinated than they should have been. Genesis knew, from ample experience, that there were a variety of reasons that could be happening; overcasting, crash from an adrenaline high, limited oxygen, blood loss, shock from said blood loss, and on and on. Really, knowing the reasons only made it more frustrating as he struggled to move rubble that wasn’t even heavy. He didn’t have time to be less than his best. It didn’t help that the blood covering his gloves made it even harder to lift them, but he couldn’t take of his gloves because then there’d be blood on his hands and-
Genesis’s head barely worked with him in the best of circumstances, and he could not risk fully falling to panic.
It didn’t take nearly as long as he’d feared to uncover Angeal enough to get him out. The larger problem was that didn’t seem like he was regaining consciousness anytime soon, which meant that Genesis could either move his dead weight or try for a healing spell. As much as he wished he could dismiss the latter idea immediately, he wasn’t certain he actually could lift Angeal. Angeal was a bit taller and far larger than Genesis was, and while his friend was able to (and often did) sweep him off his feet one handed since they were Seconds, Genesis struggled to lift Angeal on a good day even as Firsts. No one would accuse today of being good by any stretch of imagination.
The day proved itself even worse when he attempted to cast a Cure and the dizziness he’d been ignoring spiked into full vertigo, nearly putting him back on the ground. His hand, which had gone cold and numb as he used it, had lit up in bright agony again. Magic would no longer be an option. It was frustrating to be stripped of his greatest skill, but he had to admit it had already gotten him further than should be possible. Still, it seemed he was stuck doing this the hard way.
Getting Angeal off the ground pushed Genesis to his knees under the weight, and through labored breaths he decided that next time they lost a fight, Angeal got to deal with the aftermath. The only consolation was that, this close, Genesis could finally feel a heartbeat.
(The difficulty getting up was more than worth it, to know he’s alive)
Once he’s vaguely upright, Genesis discovered that (for once) Angeal’s insistence on carrying that broadsword had helped them. His harness was easier to keep ahold of than his uniform. It was still sheathed at his waist as well, meaning, at the very least, there was one weapon between them. Admittedly, Genesis probably wouldn’t be able to beat a particularly skittish infantryman at the moment, yet it eased his mind all the same.
The topic of getting the pair of them anywhere was easier to solve with a steady grip. Genesis pulled Angeal’s right arm over his shoulder and uses his left hand to hold the harness with all the strength he can manage. It put more of the strain on his uninjured side and his good hand right next to the hilt of the broadsword. His right hand protested being used, the pain passing burning and becoming blinding, but so long as he managed to keep using it Genesis was considering it a nonissue.
(Everything was already painful already, so none of it could matter until he gets some actual medical attention.)
Genesis… wasn’t sure what to do after that. The next step of his ‘to-do if not dead’ list was to find Cloud, but it was becoming apparent that there were a fair number of logistical issues to be dealt with before then. Namely, staying not dead. They couldn’t stay here, he knew that. The ash in the air was not helping either of them. So, first priority; get out of this area. He could make a plan while he walked.
Finding some way to contact Shinra was a must, unfortunately. Sephiroth was absolutely not dead, but if he hadn’t kept up the massacring, they could say he was to get on Shinra’s good side. What was left of it was the company wasn’t going to be looking kindly on what remained of Soldier, considering their highest-ranking officer just racked up a higher body count in 24 hours than the Wutai War did in 8 years. Two Commanders getting rid of the threat might buy them time to recover before the new leadership had them executed.
If Sephiroth was still slaughtering the world for whatever reason, they’d be better off cutting their losses and becoming hermits in the Nibel Mountains. They’d still need to find a radio, in case Cloud did pop back up somewhere Shinra could find him. They’d have to fins a surviving doctor outside Shinra, too, somewhere in that plan. Not that there were many alive with Shinra, either. Most of them were with Science, and they definitely hadn’t survived the massacre, so silver lining and all-
Genesis’s next step failed to meet the ground, and there was a feeling so similar to falling that he braced for a landing that didn’t come as the world seemed to shift.
The sensation only lasted for an instant, but he was already disoriented enough that he lost his footing, Angeal going down with him, and suddenly they were somewhere else.
It was a moment before Genesis could begin to parse out that last part, but the sudden lack of fire was hard to miss even with his senses shot. It was night here, darkening things further, and he couldn’t figure out if that meant time had passed; had the sun gone down at some point during the fight, or while he was pulling himself together? He hadn’t paid it any mind at the time, and the only reason he noticed now was because in an instant there was little else to notice.
His vision cleared a bit after a few (admittedly shallow) breaths, now without smoke or ash. Genesis was indoors, the floor beneath him wooden and badly gouged in one spot. The wall on his right had been almost entirely torn out, letting wind in. It was night, but there was a bit of light on the horizon, like it was bordering on dawn. And closer than the horizon-
Was a city. He recognized the view, from when he’d been a new Third and hadn’t been sent to the war yet. It was Midgar, and that would put him in Shinra Tower. That couldn’t be though, he’d heard those reports, even if some of the plates were still standing, it wouldn’t still be so intact. There was none of the telltale glow of flames, no silhouettes of rubble, nothing but a normal city except for, every once in a while, a flash of light in the distance, quickly growing farther from the city.
The shift was too much to wrap his head around. They weren’t dead yet, they’re in a city that was reduced to debris, they still don’t know where Cloud was. It’s all nonsensical enough that for a moment, he wonders if he’s gone and died of his wound, dragging Angeal down with him.
That can’t be the case, he eventually pulled himself together enough to decide, because if he’d died (if this never-ending hell of a day was finally done with him), then he wouldn’t still feel so horrible.
Genesis stayed there, trying to pull himself together, reminding himself that falling apart wasn’t an option right now; it was never an option, not when it wouldn’t help anyone or anything. It was harder without a solid goal, when the world didn’t even make enough sense to start planning for what happened next. He should be able to just get back up and keep going again. Nothing’s stopping him; the pain of his injuries had faded into an unfocused constant again. Yet, even as he willed himself to try again even once more, it just didn’t happen.
He didn’t know what to do.
Genesis had no way to know how long he stayed there. It couldn’t be more than a few minutes, since dawn never crept over the skyline, but he would’ve been there longer if he didn’t hear something. Footsteps, closer than they should have been able to get without his notice even now, quiet in the way only Turks are.
Genesis likely couldn’t defeat a Turk at the moment, but what he could do wasn’t important; he had to, for Angeal, so he would.
They weren’t in immediate view of the door, so he slipped Angeal’s arm off his shoulders and brought him to the ground as quietly as he could. The noise seemed to be unnoticeable to someone without the hearing of a Soldier, based on what Genesis could observe from sound alone. The footsteps don’t change their speed or direction. They were getting closer, but not in the way of someone seeking out a noise; it’s steady, moving forward slowly and with caution, occasionally stopping for a moment before continuing.
Whoever it was, they were checking the area with the surety of someone who knew it. It was only a matter of time before they reached the room they were in. Genesis pulled Angeal’s broadsword from its scabbard, slowly enough that the sound wouldn’t catch attention, and prepared to end this quickly.
He didn’t succeed. It was becoming a theme.
His strategy was simple; hide until they came to this room and aim to kill with one blow. It wouldn’t be hard to time successfully, not when he could still hear their footsteps, especially as they grew a nearly unnoticeable bit less cautious with room after room proving empty. Genesis only had to wait, and sure enough, they finally came close enough to stand outside the door of the room, before stopping.
Not stopping like they’re merely checking, but like they’ve already seen something and were on guard. Was there a sign of them he’d left in view? Angeal was tucked away just a bit out of sight, so it wasn’t him. Genesis couldn’t check the rest as thoroughly as he wanted to with his vision spotty at best. Hell, it could even be the giant hole in the wall, which had nothing to do with them. Made his life harder regardless, but no choice but commit now.
They eventually moved again, venturing into the room only a step before Genesis saw them and moved. He went for the chest; even if the kill wasn’t guaranteed, he’s had some very recent firsthand experience on how effective it could be to end a fight.
However, since Genesis had apparently been forsaken by the Goddess, his target moved back quickly enough to make the strike only glancing. Their caution had been enough to give them the chance to retaliate the way Genesis had been trying to avoid.
It took one strike, joined by the slight crackle of electricity, for him to lose consciousness and stay that way.
(Just like that, a hellish day was finally over, marked by first rays of sunrise in the distance).