#04t4 || In the Cage of Crystal and Greed [Thread]

[ghostofnibelheim]

[Four Seasons] In the Cage of Crystal and Greed

Closed Starter for the “Four Seasons” Divergent Megaverse!

Of how Project “S” (now named “Sephiroth”) and Rufus Shinra first met.

Involved Characters: Sephiroth, 11-12yo ( @ghostofnibelheim​ ), Rufus ShinRa, 15yo ( @thronelessprince​​ )

References: Before Crisis -Final Fantasy VII-

Settings: Midgar, September εγλ 1992

Plink. Plink. Plink.

The sound of the solution dripping from the IV bag beside the bed and into the tube that latched on the back of his hand. It was the only way the boy could tell that time existed in this room.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

Too faint to hear through the plastic equipment for most, but not for him. In here, this place with no color that smelled of antiseptic, it was all he could pay attention to. It drilled into his mind, and deafened the only coherent thought he could make.

‘I want to go home.’

Where was home, however? Why did the boy so fiercely believe he wasn’t there already, when his mind drew a total blank about anything prior his awakening on the surgical table?

This place, it was not home.

He didn’t want to be here, but he didn’t know where else to go, either. How convenient for whoever had put him in this foreign room where it felt neither warm nor cold.

Day and night, he sat in bed, and waited. Waiting for something to come to his memory, or for someone to come through the door. He knew he couldn’t open it himself. The ‘Doctors’ made sure to lock it every time. A heavy latch of steel bit fiercely through the door with the command of little plastic cards that they passed before a strange small box attached to the wall right next to it.

He hadn’t tried to ask to go out. In truth, he didn’t really want to talk to any of them. The boy didn’t know anybody here, and he could see the way they looked at him: like something that didn’t belong. Emotions he didn’t know what to name were plain in their faces whenever they came through to approach his bedside. They seemed more at ease when fiddling with the wires and equipment beeping and buzzing beside him, than the boy they were latched onto.

Maybe he was a machine, too. Was this how a machine was supposed to feel? It wasn’t like the IV could tell him anything about it.

Plink. Plink. Plink.

That’s all it said.

He wanted to go home, but how could he find it? This place seemed to be a closed box and torn from all existence. The only thing remotely close to a window was the long mirror on the same wall as the door. Any look the boy would cast to it would be met by an identical one with the same forlorn, empty-eyed expression.

Little did he know, more than one pair of eyes were gazing right back at him at that very moment.

~~

“There he is, Mr. President. Still alive and in top form, just as I told you. We transferred him last week.” Hojo had a smug grin on his face as he spoke. He was in a good mood today, even enough for his usually slouch and crooked posture to be a bit straighter, making him taller beside his most important investor.

“He may look a little frail at a first glance, but do not let appearances deceive you. He has yet to hit puberty, besides... But he underwent the mako infusion procedure like it was second nature. Almost no side-effects. A light amnesia, but his procedural memory was not affected in the slightest. He should be ready for performance tests very soon.”

A lot was at stake here. And while the man was still disappointed by the lack of Cetra-like talents in the boy, the prospective of the so-called SOLDIER program interested him. His acquired position at the head of the Science and Research Department left vacant by Gast Faremis was on the line... and he knew he still had competition.

If he could impress the President before the mess of theories Hollander was toying with back in Mideel bore any good fruit, the seat and all the benefits that came with it would remain as his.

And what a promising specimen this one was.