The music of the bar was more the feel of the vibrations than any true sound, the loud and thumping beat reverberating and seeming to shake the entire building, to the point where even the crashes of thunder in the skies above the city were dimmed into obscurity. A little storm was hardly enough to ruin the lively atmosphere inside the bar; the place had survived far worse after all. Sephiroth, Meteor, rowdy drunks. In comparison, the hurricane raging outside was nothing. Lights flickered with the beat of the music, shockwaves of different colours, ranging from red to purple, and down into the ultraviolet shades that caused white clothing to glow with an eerie light, one that was almost reminiscent of a Mako glow in its strange intensity and ethereal nature, if not for the actual colour.

That was one of the things that few even noticed however, since the bar promoted itself more to a lively party than quiet revelations considered over a drink or three. At least for most people anyway, since there were always exceptions. Just why this trio had come to this place was something known only to them, or then again, perhaps not.

"Why do we come here?" one of the three asked, a pretty blonde woman with intense brown eyes. Her gaze was traveling around the bar with a look of slight distaste, and a frown crossed her features as she turned back to her two companions.

The former of the two simply shrugged in response, evidently unfazed by the thumping music, flashing lights, or the woman's disapproval. Despite the darkness of the bar, broken only by the swirling lights that flashed in time with the music, this large, heavily set man wore a pair of sunglasses that concealed his eyes.

"The reason we come here, 'Laney, is it's the only place that doesn't care who we are, and it's too loud for anyone to hear us talk," the other man said, a lanky individual with unruly red hair and ice blue eyes that held an unusual glint; the sign of Mako for those who cared to look.

"Don't call me that Reno. Why does it matter if anyone hears us? It's not like we're planning anything," the woman responded, fixing the red-head with a stern look.

"Speak for yourself," the one dubbed Reno answered, shrugging his shoulders and then leaning forward onto the table that sat between them. He lifted his drink, idly swirling the almost empty glass and watching the golden liquid within.

"What's that supposed to mean?" came the response from the woman, her expression darkening as realisation dawned that her companion evidently had something on his mind.

"Careful. You don't want to do anything... silly," the hitherto silent man said, and it was difficult to tell whether his words were aimed at the red-head or the blonde.

"Come on Rude, you know me," Reno countered, his features twitching into a slight smirk.

"Precisely. Don't do anything silly," the bald man repeated. His own expression remained passive as he took a sip from his own drink.

"I'm not going to. I'm just bored alright?" the other man said, staring once again at his drink. 'Bored' wasn't quite a strong enough word however. There were no better words to describe the apparent joys of working in a supermarket, stacking shelves. During the long and boring evenings he'd contemplated on more than one occasion if it were possible to kill himself with a can of beans. Other than bludgeoning himself with death with it, he'd come up with no other options. It wasn't even like the job paid well either.

It was pathetic in a way. Reno, leader of the Turks, reduced to stacking shelves in the main supermarket of Junon. It was the only job he'd been able to get, so he had to stick with it. And he knew Rude and Elena hadn't fared any better; the bald man was working for a construction company, largely spending most of his day lugging bricks around, and Elena was a receptionist for one of the local accountancy firms. She definitely had the best of it, but her innocent charm had given her an edge the two male Turks had lacked.

No one wanted Shinra's elite assassins around, but Elena's bubbly personality had made her so much easier to forgive. Even Rude's silence could be taken for a form of quiet remorse, or at the very least, an indication of being trustworthy. Reno, on the other hand, was unwilling to behave in any way other than that which came naturally to him, which resulted in the fact that no one in their right minds wanted to employ him, or have anything to do with him.

The other two Turks being the notable exception however; there was very little that could truly separate the three, especially in a world that was so much more hostile towards them now. They lived in the same neighbourhood of Junon, which was as close to being the world's capital city as it was possible to get, now that Midgar lay in ruins. For the first few weeks, they'd lived together in one tiny appartment until each of them had found their feet, but essentially it came down to the fact that as close as they were, some space was needed.

That was almost a good thing, to Reno's eyes. He knew both Rude and Elena earned more than him now, and he could also sense that it was only the fact that he would object strongly that prevented them from offering him more help. It was embarrassing really. The supermarket paid just enough to live on, as long as 'living' didn't include more than one or two meals a day or a particularly nice place to live.

It was enough though, so long as any beer the red-head consumed was left to be paid by his former colleagues. His objections to assistance didn't quite extend as far as alcohol after all. But then, were it not for the combined enjoyment of his friends' company and the beer, Reno knew his life would be infinitely more miserable.

All in all, things could be worse, the eternal optimist had to admit. He was alive, he wasn't alone, and when he really thought about it, his standard of living now was better than it had been in his days before Turk life. He'd let himself grow too accustomed to Shinra taking care of his every need and whim, that was the real problem. He would adapt, as he knew Rude and Elena would; he would have been very mistaken to think they weren't also finding life hard, despite their marginally better current circumstances.

"You're bored?" Elena asked, and then broke into a smile. "Not enjoying your job?"

"No, actually. I'm a Turk, not a damn shelf stacker. If it wasn't for the fact that it'd look suspicious, I'd torch the whole place. I mean, it puts me off my food you know, working around it all day. I swear if I ever see another can of beans..." the lanky red-head trailed off, leaving the threat hanging.

"You're working tonight. There will be plenty cans of beans remaining," Rude pointed out, ever the voice of logic and reason.

"I know. Sucks, doesn't it?" Reno commented, finishing off the last of his beer and studying the glass with an almost mournful look. "I miss being a Turk. I miss Shinra," he reflected, placing the glass down onto the table with a soft thump. He pulled himself to his feet, eyes fixing on Rude and then to Elena. "I guess I'd better get to work before boss threatens to fire me for like the fifth time this week. Make sure you have plenty fun tonight on my behalf."

There was a nod in response from Rude, and a murmured affirmative from Elena, both of which Reno responded to with a flash of a grin, before loping casually out of the bar and into the stormy street outside. It was dark, with no sign of the moon or stars in the sky, both concealed by the thick and heavy clouds that hung ominously in the sky. The wind whipped around, pulling already unruly hair into a variety of new directions as the heavy downpour of rain soaked his clothes almost immediately.

Cheap clothes, with no resistance to water. Black, for the simple reason that it was possible to look good in the colour without much effort or expenditure. Black went with everything in the end. It was deceptive too, since from his choice of clothing it might have been thought that the former Turk was suffering from depression; very few chose such morbid colouration these days.

But come on, it wasn't like he'd dyed his hair black or anything. Reno was far from depressed, such a state of mind being very difficult for him to achieve, although for the first few weeks after the 'saving' of the world he had tried. He couldn't hold with it however, the optimism and fire of his personality unwilling to be dulled. So he flowed with it, remaining his usual cheerfully irritating self.

His intensely boring job couldn't change that, and the weather couldn't change that, despite how much both seemed to be trying at the moment. The supermarket was open at all hours, but since it was quietest during the night hours, this was when Reno had been instructed to refill the shelves. This was in preparation for the next day's flow of shoppers, and also because it seemed as if the owner of the place was trying to conceal the fact that he'd hired a Turk.

Hired likely out of pity, Reno reflected with a disgusted snort. He, Rude and Elena had arrived in Junon bedraggled, injured and hungry, looking distinctly the worse for wear after a dramatic escape from the falling Midgar and a long journey from there to the other large city of the continent. It had been a slightly limping Rude that went to the construction company for a job, Elena had been near tears as she'd pleaded with the accountants for her receptionist position, and a half-starved Reno had turned up at the supermarket, intent at first on finding some way to buy or steal some food.

The owner, an older man in his mid-fifties had recognised the Turk, and despite a generally harsh personality, couldn't bring himself to let the red-head starve. The offer of the job stacking the shelves had evidently been a spur of the moment gesture of kindness, one that the man had come to regret perhaps. Once Reno was no longer near starved, his natural personality had began to shine through once more, and the last thing a popular and profitable supermarket needed was an arrogant Turk making smart-assed comments at the customers.

Three months of night work had resulted in Reno feeling distinctly nocturnal, so he couldn't actually sleep at night anymore, even during his days off. This meant that his only contact with his friends was confined to the evenings, when they descended upon the bar for a drink after work in Rude and Elena's case, or before in Reno's, and in the mornings when Reno would join one of them for breakfast, or dinner, depending on how they looked at it.

It could be better, on the whole, but then it also could be worse. Reno counted himself lucky, despite his constant complaints about boredom or the way his boss treated him. And yet, he had spoken the truth; he did miss life as a Turk, and he did miss Shinra. Those kind of things were those best not mentioned aloud in any location where he might be overheard however, hence the answer to the original answer to Elena's question. In that bar, Reno could say what he liked without repercussion.

He could out here too, he realised. No one in their right minds would be out in this weather. It was going to be one very quiet night at work, which was perfect. Reno had the perfect idea for idling away the dull hours of the night, and he couldn't help but smirk at the thought of it as he pushed open the back door of the supermarket, heading into the office.

"What're you grinning about?" the voice of his boss questioned, the man's brown eyes regarding him with something between amusement and contempt.

"It's raining," Reno responded, continuing the grin. Reveling in such inane comments was part of what kept him going. His hair, usually a fiery red, was darkened with moisture and clung to his face, while his clothes hung wetly over his shoulders, dripping rhythmically on the cold concrete floor of the tidy office.

"I see. You know where the towels are. Get dry and get to work. You're on your own tonight. It's my wife's birthday so I can't stay, and Joanne's called in sick. That means you're to watch the store while you're restocking the shelves."

"No problem Freddy," Reno replied, keeping his expression neutral at this news but inwardly celebrating. Joanne might have interfered with his plans, and he certainly could never get away with them while the boss was in the building.

"How many times have I told you? It's Frederic, not 'Freddy'," the supermarket owner said, his voice darkened with reprimand, but also resigned to the fact that neither his tone nor words meant anything to the rebellious ex-Turk.

"Yeah, alright Freddy. You'd better get going. I'll bet the wife's waiting. Tell her I said hi," Reno said, strolling out of the office now and in the direction of the small kitchen area of the back rooms. He pulled open the cupboard under the sink, crouching down to root through the contents in search of one of the towels he knew to be kept there, not making too much effort to maintain the tidy order of the cupboard.

Finally he found one such towel, and stood up as he vigourously ruffled his hair to dry away most of the moisture. As he did so, he turned around to lean back against the counter, knowing Frederic would be watching him, even if Reno couldn't see him from underneath the towel.

"Just don't do anything stupid kid," 'Freddy' said warningly. "You're in charge for the night, and I want you to act like it."

"No problem Freddy, I'll be good," Reno promised as he finished drying his hair and moving the towel to absorb as much of the water soaking his clothes as possible. If his hair had appeared scruffy before, it was nothing in comparison to its state now after the rough drying Reno had given it.

At least if no one else was here, he'd be able to laze around at the checkout for a while, where he knew for a fact there was a heater. And a heater meant drying off and staying warm, since the combination of wet clothes and the cold concrete of the back rooms made him shiver involuntarily.

The promise was evidently enough, and soon Frederic was on his way, leaving Reno alone in a very large supermarket, all on his own. And true to his word, the red-head behaved, simply making his way over to the checkout to settle by the heater and warm up.

It was remarkable really, how the world adjusted to life without Shinra's domination, Reno reflected as he watched the lighting of the supermarket, clean white light holding perhaps just the faintest flicker. No more burning Mako for electricity, not when there was plenty of coal around, and those weird environmentally friendly power sources like wind and waves and sunlight and such. Not much sunlight today, but plenty in the way of wind and waves.

Each town seemed to be in control of its own energy sources, and Reno'd heard a rumour that somewhere in charge of Junon's power issues was Reeve, the former Head of Urban Development of Shinra. Fucking tree-hugger, part of Strife's gang. If the rumours turned out to be true, Reno wouldn't have been surprised.

Sometimes, especially on lonely nights like this, he wondered about Avalanche, and what they were doing with themselves now there was no Shinra to destroy, no Meteor to stop and no Sephiroth to kill. "Bet they're less bored than me right now," he commented aloud, smirking at that thought.

Cloud was probably lounging around in that villa in Costa Del Sol, Tifa hanging off his arm adoringly. Barret was likely back in North Corel, taking advantage of the world's renewed interest in coal. Cid and Red XIII would be back at their respective homes, doing whatever it was they thought would make them happy. Yuffie would be out stealing some poor guy's materia. Vincent was probably... doing whatever it was that freaky ex-Turk vampires did; Reno wasn't entirely sure about that one. And Reeve was evidently taking an interest in Junon's electricity.

All in all, they probably had better lives than the Turks did right now, and in a vague flash of pride, Reno was glad none of them were around to see him here. There were few fates he considered worse than the likes of Cloud Strife and his tree-hugging buddies seeing him working in a supermarket stacking shelves. There would be comments about how the Turks deserved to be far worse off, or something similar.

While Reno himself held no hard feelings for Avalanche, simply because it wasn't in his nature to do so, at least not for any length of time, he was certain the feelings were not mutual. And he genuinely felt that since the demise of Shinra, he'd fallen a long way. He didn't intend to encounter any former enemies until he'd climbed his way back up a little way. No way was he staying in this job for the rest of his life, and he didn't doubt for a moment that he would be able to get through life without at least stumbling across one of them.

Turk or not, Turk Pride still remained, and always would. This job was purely a temporary setback, a stepping stone across the river of life, or some shit like that. Reno didn't deal well with the philosophical and metaphorical concepts, at least not in a sensible way. His 'butterfly religion' could possibly have counted as a philosophical idea, but it also counted as plain weird.

Satisfied that he was now as dry as he could get, and that for the immediate future no one would be coming in to buy anything, Reno wandered into the back of the supermarket, returning in a few moments towing a wooden plat on which hundreds of cans of beans stood. It was time to get creative with his time.

Once he reached a fairly open space, he ripped open the tough plastic wrapping holding the cans in place, and quickly began construction, placing the cans in a large circle on the floor and building it up a few levels, before creating eight spires around the edge, and a far larger tower in the centre. A little more work, and Reno stepped back to survey his work.

That was way more interesting than the usual pyramid or cube shaped stacks; a near perfect replica of the city of Midgar in all its glory, albeit constructed of tin cans. Even so, it was impressed, spanning a diameter of some ten feet, and standing three feet tall in the centre, where the bean can Shinra Building stood, looming ominously over the eight plates. Reno wasn't quite sure if anyone but him would appreciate this particular outlet for his imagination, but he was pleased with it. It put him in mind of the model of Midgar in the Urban Development offices; he'd had fun playing with that on more than one occasion.

One time, the most memorable of them on account of being the one in which he'd gotten into the most trouble afterwards, he'd taken some rats from the science labs and released them into the model city. His reasoning had been that Midgar was full of monsters, and so for the model to be a realistic representation, it required monsters to attack the fictitious inhabitants of the model. The multi-headed, multi-tailed, fanged, clawed and generally monstrous rats from the labs had been ideal. Certainly monsters, and about the right size to roam around the streets of the models.

It had been funny, although Reeve hadn't agreed when one of the rats had bitten him, nearly taking off his entire hand in the process. The rats had promptly escaped from the model during the resulting confusion, and disappeared into the ventilation system. Over the course of the following week, until the creatures had been recaptured, Reeve hadn't been the only one to suffer severe bites and poisoning from the rats' infectious fangs.

Reno glanced at his watch; well that little exercise had killed an hour or two at least. Only another ten hours to go until he could go home. Ten hours of mind-numbing boredom to deal with. Perhaps he could get creative with some other items of stock too? Yeah, that could work. Although it would mean he'd have to think of some more ideas for tomorrow.

That was sad really, wasn't it? The fact that the most interesting aspect of his life was coming up with interesting shapes to stack various food items in. It really indicated that he now had absolutely no life at all, but twelve hour night shifts at a supermarket didn't exactly allow him much in the way of a social life.

I am definitely not spending the rest of my life working here, he thought to himself as he went out to the stock room once more to find some other suitable types of food to build with.

Three hours later, and the reconstruction of Midgar had been joined by a tinned pea model of Junon, a Northern Crater built entirely of loaves of bread, and Wutai had been emulated with the use of several hundred boxes of biscuits. And now he was beginning to run out of space, so it was back to merely stacking things on shelves in the usual boring way.

As Reno wandered back over to the unoccupied checkout, he noticed movement outside. He had barely time to react before three men erupted through the doorway as the automatic doors slid open, moving quickly with weapons drawn and faces concealed by black ski masks. Seriously, this was the best they could do these days?

"Hey, look, you guys are wasting your time," Reno drawled casually, smirking in amusement as they whirled around to aim their weapons at him. The correct course of action for the usual supermarket attendant would have been to raise his hands in surrender and allow them to plunder the till. Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen.

"Oh, and why's that?" the larger of the three men asked. He was a heavy built, stocky individual, and taller than Reno by a clear foot. The eyes visible from the holes in the ski masks were a bright green, something the former Turk recognised instantly as a Mako glow. So this was what the now unemployed members of SOLDIER were up to. Somehow, the red-head couldn't quite hold it against them; wouldn't he be doing the same if he hadn't found a job? Wouldn't he rather be doing the same?

"Well, firstly there's been no one here tonight, so there's nothing worth taking in the till. Secondly, you know full well that I can take you, even if there are three of you. Thirdly, you'll wreck the most productive thing I've done all evening," Reno commented, ticking off his points on his fingers as he held up a hand to illustrate to the three would-be thieves. "Of course, if you feel like being sensible about it, I'm sure I could get away with letting you take some food, since I bet you guys are hungry."

"We don't want any charity from a fucking Turk," one of the other men said darkly, his golden brown Mako eyes fixing darkly on Reno, who simply glared back.

"No, we don't want charity. Unlike some, we don't sink so low as to accept pity from others," the leader said, and it was clear this statement was aimed at the red-head. "Now, hand over the cash, or we'll kill you."

There was a grin from the ex-Turk as his left hand dropped to his side, tightening around the weapon hanging at his hip. Just because he no longer killed for a living didn't mean he was going to walk around unarmed; there were enough people who recognised his identity to keep life dangerously interesting for him, and so Reno had resisted selling his weapons or materia, no matter how poor and destitute his situation became.

"How about we rephrase that?" Reno suggested as he lifted the Electro-Mag Rod, casually flicking the switch on the weapon's handle. It charged, electricity sparking from the tip, and he could feel the hum of it vibrating slightly in his hand. "How about... you leave right now or I zap the living shit out of you?" he offered with a smirk.

"That's the way you want it?" the leader of the ex-SOLDIERs asked, dropping back into a fighting stance and holding his sword before him in preparation for battle.

"That's the way it's going to be," came the response from Reno, and even before any of his opponents could swing an attack at him, he'd let loose with a burst of electrical energy from the end of his weapon. He had enough time to see it strike into the chest of one of the SOLDIERs before he had to move quickly to the side to avoid the blade slicing through the air at neck height.

Were this a firefight, he would have been inclined to duck behind some shelves and simply blast these men into oblivion, but the trouble with sword fighters was they tended to come at you when you tried to hide. Reno didn't like swords, especially not after some very unpleasant experiences on the receiving end of Strife's overgrown butcher knife he liked to call a sword.

Instead the lanky red-head began relying on his innate speed and agility, using that to dodge the blades sweeping through the air towards various parts of his anatomy. SOLDIERs were strong, but compared to the Turk especially, not particularly dexterous or fast. If they caught him, they'd have the power to severely hurt him, but first they had to catch him.

Ducking and weaving about them, and jamming his nightstick into them whenever he gained the opportunity, Reno focused more on not getting hurt than causing any harm himself. It'd look bad when Freddy came in tomorrow morning to see corpses lying around a destroyed shop floor. But then, having said that, since when had the Turk ever cared if he destroyed something while fighting?

He darted about, inflicting damage as the opportunity arose, and thus far only receiving one injury as the leader's sword glanced across his side; the blow might have done more damage had Reno not been actively dodging about, ducking just in time to avoid the worst of the blow. He laughed lightly, really somewhat enjoying himself as he sent a vicious jolt of electricity through the gut of one of his opponents. It had been a while since anything this interesting had happened to him, and it was certainly a challenge.

The leader renewed his attack, driving forward more relentlessly now, and the former Turk was pressed enough to stay out of harm's way that he didn't quite catch the sound of a spell being cast until it was a little too late. Or two spells, if the swirling effects around him were any indication. The silvered clock coming to rest over his head indicated a time-based spell; Slow perhaps, in the vague attempt of ending his lightning fast movements? The other was one he didn't recognise, a storm of black around him that soon formed into a circular black chasm beneath him.

He struggled against the pulling feeling that emanated from below him, sensing himself being sucked into the black hole even as the Slow spell worked on reducing the speed of his movements. Was it really fair to inflict two spells on a guy at once? There was only so much he could deal with after all. But he wasn't about to give in, retaliating against the two spells with a shout of 'Neo-Turk Light'. The lightning based innate ability of the Turk shot out, hitting all three of his opponents with enough force to send them flying backward, and causing Reno to grin despite the dire nature of his own situation.

With the three SOLDIERs no longer fighting him, he was able to concentrate more thoroughly on fighting the black pit below his feet and the time spell around him. He was almost succeeding too, perhaps through pure strength of will alone, before the black pit shifted a little, sucking the reconstruction of Midgar towards it with almost frightening speed. With the effects of the Slow spell beginning to affect his movements, Reno couldn't quite dodge the can of beans flying towards him.

"Fuck..." he swore as the can hit him roughly on the side of the head, forcing his sense of consciousness to fade into a blackness that matched the magical hole pulling at him. No longer able to fight the effects of the spell, the former Turk was pulled into the black hole.

Disclaimer - Reno, and the rest of Final Fantasy VII, belongs to Square. That, on the whole, covers it. Never was very good at writing these things.

Author's Notes - Well, here's the beginning of Ouroboros, although I imagine for most the name means very little. All will become clear in next chapter. Or maybe the chapter afterwards.

My eternal thanks to Phoenix for being my beta-reader for this, in addition to poking me to keep writing. Poking me to start the next chapter right now, for that matter. Let me finish my Author's Notes first okay?

Anyway, please review, because reviews are much more motivating than being poked by one's beta-reader. Ktrenal loves reviews, and promises not to leave the cliffhanger too long if he gets lots of them.

Update - Just fixed some formatting errors...