The air was thick, and stunk of pollution. It was late, probably close to midnight, but that made no difference. You couldn't see the sun down in the slums as there was no difference between night and day. They both melded together, illuminated by the lights of old, rundown buildings, and could be told apart only by the time. The crowds who filled the streets below were a never-ending, constant thing, made up of people who were too busy with their own problems to look around and take notice of another. Down in the slums, the people possessed no love, and no hate. No emotion at all, just a heavy sense of nothingness.

People drifted in and out of shops, whores called out to potential clients, the odd fight took place in an out-of-the-way alley. The strong got what they wanted, the weak didn't. On any given day, you could expect to see a young woman being sexually harassed by someone. It wasn't out of the ordinary, in fact, it happened all the time. Nobody ever did anything about it. They simply acknowledged it with dull acceptance. The indifference of it all puzzled her.

Things were so different in Midgar, compared to Nibelheim. There, the sun shone brightly, the air was crisp and clean, especially up in the mountains. Kids would play outside, while their parents sat on the front porch, keeping an eye on them while reading the paper. It was the perfect stereotype of a peaceful country town. But the perfection had been cruelly destroyed by a madman. Not only had Shinra destroyed her hometown, but they had also trapped her in this terrible city.

There was no escape from Midgar, seeing as how few people were permitted through the city gates located in each sector.

She had been in this prison for almost a year, working the evening shift as a waitress in a popular, but rundown bar in Sector Seven. Any other girl would have considered herself lucky to find a job that paid enough for them not to have to resort to prostitution, like so many other women in the slums. She felt no such honor. She was not living; so much as she was merely existing. Though Sephiroth had not physically succeeded in killing her, he had killed her spirit. She had no friends, and found herself no longer interested in boys, most of the ones her age here were only interested in getting laid anyway.

She rented a small apartment in Sector Four, though you could hardly call it an apartment. It was simply a large brick room, lit solely by three lightbulbs that were suspended from the ceiling. It had a sink, a fridge, a stove, and a couple cupboards. The only other room was a small, horribly dirty bathroom. Her bed consisted of an uncomfortable springy mattress laid out on the floor. She ate at a card table she had found in a garbage dump. It had been falling apart when she found it, so she had taped it together with duct tape. Having no dresser, her clothes were strewn about the room. The only window in the apartment looked out on the busiest street in the sector. The noise used to keep her awake, but she was used to it by now.

She stood with her back against the door, her eyes scanning the filthy room. This isn't living, she thought to herself, as she walked over to where her only pair of pajamas lay on the floor. She changed into them and walked into the bathroom to wash her face. Water dripped from the showerhead, which was hidden by a gray shower curtain. Under the sink, the morning's newspaper had been laid out on the tiled floor to absorb a leak from one of the pipes. Part of the paper hadn't gotten wet yet, and sections of an article entitled "Shinra Inc. Approves Corel Reactor" could be read. She glanced at it grimly as she turned the water on. Shinra is the strong, and we are the weak. The dreams of the weak never come true. There are no knights in shining armor to protect us and our would-be realities. Instead, we are exploited, used so that the strong may become stronger.

Cold water splashed into the rusty sink. She washed her face and hands with soap, then dried them on her shirt. She opened the cabinet above the once white sink. Inside, it contained a brush, elastics for her long, chocolate-colored hair, a small amount of makeup, and a bottle of sleeping pills.

She reached for the bottle and popped the lid. Removing two of the white capsules, she replaced the lid and put the clear plastic container back in the cabinet. Leaving the bathroom, she walked over to one of the cupboards, removed a glass, and filled it with water. Glancing at the two pills apprehensively before popping them into her mouth, she swallowed them with a large gulp of metallic-tasting water. Setting the glass down on the counter next to the sink, she turned off all but one of the lights before lying down and pulling the blankets up to her chin.

There are no heroes, no promises worth being kept. Life is like the ocean waves, violent, yet containing a rhythmic calmness. The waves will never cease. They shall always exist.

"Hey, waitress! Get me another drink!"

"Already? Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I'll tell you when I've had enough! Now get me my god damn drink!"

Tifa sighed as she went around the bar to retrieve his drink. That man would come in every day at 5:30 and drink until he fell unconscious. He was going to get there faster than usual tonight, seeing as how he had already drank four beers, and it hadn't even been half an hour since he started.

There were two other customers in the bar at the time. They were sitting at a small table, talking over some food. Tifa studied them as she gave the man his fifth beer. Neither of them looked to be much older than her.

The girl had thick brown hair, lighter than hers, and held back in a ponytail. Loose strands fell over her red bandanna and framed her pale face. She wore a faded blue jean jacket over top of a plain black shirt. Her jeans were also very faded, and had a large hole in the right knee.

Her friend was quite round compared to many of the people in the slums. He had short, dark brown hair, most of which was covered by a red baseball cap. He wore a light yellow T-shirt, and dark blue jeans with an elastic waist, rather than a belt.

Though Tifa could not hear them, it was clear that they were involved in a debate over something. Often, the girl would throw her arms in the air, lean back in her chair, and eat in silence for awhile. Then, the conversation would start again, and end the same way, only to be started again minutes later.

With nothing to do, Tifa found herself curios as to what they were talking about. She looked around the bar, and decided that with her only other customer drinking his beer contentedly, she may as well wander over and see if she could get them anything.

"Argh! Wedge! You keep going back to the same things over and over again! I tell you, this reactor in Corel is gonna destroy the town!"

"Corel needs the mako reactor! They're not getting any business with their coal anymore. Everybody's using mako now. Most of the people there are out of work as it is. Why not employ some of them by building a reactor for them to work in?"

"Because Corel's coal mines have been around forever! They're a part of the town's history! The people aren't just going to sell them because Shinra tells them to."

"They HAVE to sell the mines Jess. They don't have any money."

"They're still exporting to Wutai aren't they?"

"Yeah, but that's not enough to keep the place alive."

"Excuse me," Tifa said, interrupting them. "Can I get you anything?"

They both stopped talking and looked up at her.

"No, thank you." The girl replied. "What do you think about this reactor in Corel?"

"What do I think?" She nodded. "I think Shinra wants to get a stronger hold on Wutai by owning the source of over half their power."

"See?" Jess said, turning back to her friend. "Shinra isn't interested in employing the people of Corel! They just want more of a choke-hold on Wutai."

"Yeah, but they'd be employing people in Corel while doing that. Those miners aren't gonna care that Shinra's using them. They're gonna care about having enough money to keep food on the table. That's why they'll sell the mines."

"I still don't think they'll fall for it."

"Well they will. Where's Biggs anyway?"

"Working, where do you think? He's got that new job in the weapon shop up in Wall Market. The crazy old man has him sorting through all his garbage."

"Why does he collect that stuff anyway?"

"I dunno, needs something to do I guess."

Tifa checked her watch and walked back over to the bar. It was getting close to six; the bar should start getting busier soon. Sure enough, less than five minutes later, three brawny men walked into the bar.

Tifa recognized them as her boss' buddies from the gym. She prided herself on the fact that there were very few people that came to the bar who's name and problems she didn't know.

The night continued, and more and more customers came in. At seven, her boss came in to give her a break. It was a couple hours into her seven hour shift, and Tifa got a ten minute break every two hours.

The owner was a big man, who was always in need of a shave. A former member of the Shinra army, he spent all his free time working out in the gym up in Wall Market. He was also the only reason that there were no fights in the bar, as he could deal lethal blows with his cast iron frying pan. He would often stick around to help her out with the customers until hired help came.

The night crawled on, eventually, eleven o'clock rolled around, and Tifa's replacement came. Just like every other night, Tifa left the bar at ten after eleven, caught the 11:30 train back to Sector Four, and walked the short distance from the train station back to her apartment.

A year ago, this all wouldn't have been so routine. A year ago, she would never have been able to picture herself living in Midgar. A year ago she had friends, family, and hobbies. Now all she had were shattered dreams and sleeping pills.

It wasn't the darkness, she decided, so much as there was no natural light. The plate above blocked out everything the sky had to offer. The beautiful sunrises, the sun, the rain, whether it be a light shower that would give you a rainbow, or a violent storm with thunder and lightning, a clear, cloudless day, the glorious sunsets, the moon, the stars…

The stars. There were so many memories to be had under the stars. She could clearly remember stargazing with her mom during a camping trip up in the mountains. But even more prominent was the memory of a promise made by the well on a cool March night.

There was to be a meteor shower that night, but few were seen. Tifa remembered seeing one though, right after she had pushed Cloud into making his promise to her. It had been a stupid, childish act. Cloud had every reason to ignore the promise all together, and she couldn't blame him for doing so. She had been trying to cling to someone she barely knew, even though he was her neighbor.

"If I'm ever in trouble, my hero will come rescue me. I want to experience that at least once." It was perhaps the stupidest sounding thing she had ever said. She wanted a hero, a knight in shining armor, someone who would sweep her off her feet and carry her away on his white horse to his beautiful castle. Cloud was hardly the type of person to do anything like that. He was the withdrawn, quiet, brooding type. So why had she made him promise to protect her?

Not that the promise did her much good anyway. Her home had still been burnt to the ground, her life had still been shattered, and she had still nearly died. Where was her hero when she needed him? Most likely hanging out with some of his SOLDIER buddies, not worrying or caring. How could he have known that his idol was destroying his hometown?

Promises are made to be broken, loves to be lost. Friends are made to be there for you, except for when you need them. Families are made to care for and guide you, but leave you high and dry when you need to be cared for and guided the most.

There are no such things as heroes. They exist only in fairy tales, along with the unicorns and dragons. The people of this world don't care about one another; they have more important things to worry about. You can't depend on anyone but yourself. Midgar had taught her that. The city had worn away her country ideals and exposed her to the truth of the harsh, cold, and uncaring world. It was perhaps the most important lesson she had ever learned.

Another night working in the bar. Another night helping others drown their sorrows. Another night wishing she could drown her own.

There were seven people in the bar at the time. Three of them being Jessie, Wedge, and someone who Tifa assumed to be Biggs, their friend.

The three of them were sitting there; eating the chef's special and talking about Shinra. That's all they ever appeared to talk about. They seemed to hate the electrical company almost as much as she did. Tifa wondered what the corporation had done to them, other than trap them here in the slums.

Tifa looked up at the door as five men wearing Shinra uniforms walked in. She frowned. What could they want with a bar in the slums? She thought to herself. To keep from staring, she began rummaging around behind the bar, trying to look as if she were searching for something.

The commander walked up to the bar and glanced down at a piece of paper before speaking. "We're looking for a Jess, Biggs, and Wedge. I was told we might find them here."

Tifa looked up past the guard. Her eyes focused on her nervous customers. She studied them for awhile, wondering what they had done, until the commander pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Do you know if they're here?"

Startled, Tifa looked up at the tall guard. Lost in her thoughts, she had almost forgotten they were there. "N-no. I try not to know too much about my customers. I have my own problems." That, of course, was a lie. Though Tifa was often in her own world, she knew her customers very well. Turning her attention to the commander, Tifa studied him, searching for the humanity she believed to be absent from all those who worked for Shinra.

He was wearing the regular brown commander uniform. His face showed no emotion, as if he couldn't care less about what he was doing. Tifa found herself resisting a sudden desire to kill him. That soldier represented Shinra, the company whose general had destroyed her hometown. But he was armed, and not alone. Tifa forced herself to unclench her fists. Perhaps, one day, her time for revenge would come. Until then, she had to act civil to these people. They could close the bar if one of them so much as felt an air of rebellion around the place. Shinra didn't need a reason for doing things. They could buy their way out of sticky situations.

She glanced down at her watch. It was 6:35. Damn. The boss won't be here for another 25 minutes. Guess I'll just deal with them myself then.

"Uh, sir?" A trooper broke the silence, and brought Tifa out of her thoughts once again.

The guard standing at the bar turned around. "What?" he snapped.

"Isn't that them sitting at the table over there?"

His eyes followed the trooper's finger pointing to the table where Jess, Biggs, and Wedge sat trying to look calm. They aren't doing a very good job at it. Tifa thought to herself. Any fool can see they're hiding something.

"Good work soldier. Arrest them."

One of the troopers began to move towards the table where Tifa's customers sat, desperately trying to come up with a plan.

"What did they do?" Tifa found herself asking. The trooper stopped, and turned to face her.

"They were seen blowing up a manufacturing plant in Sector 3," he answered.

"Are you sure? They don't look like the type."

"Of course they're the type! Everyone here in the slums is the type! You're all good-for-nothings. Ain't a decent one in the lot o' you."

Tifa's eyes flared. "I'd watch who you're calling a good-for-nothing. The only reason we're down here is because you're company decided it would be fun to trap us in the slums. You don't need to take them away to prison. They're already in one. And it's far worse than any punishment you guys can cook up."

"Do you have a problem miss?" The commander asked. His hand reached for his mako gun, and the four troopers followed his lead.

"Your company is my problem! If you're looking for corruption, just go to your own Headquarters! None of the people there give a shit about us down here in the slums. This air is gonna kill everybody! But they don't care. They just pretend like they haven't noticed. They want us dead. That way there'll be no more slums, and the whole city will be beautiful and clean, or whatever the hell it's like up there."

By the time Tifa finished, everybody in the bar was watching them. The commander glanced around the bar. Finally, he decided to ignore Tifa's comments, which made her even more angry.

"Arrest the rebels and lets get out of here." He said, turning away from the bar.

Before Tifa was fully aware of what she was doing, she had climbed up onto the bar, and jumped onto the commander's back. Wrapping her left arm around his neck, to keep herself from falling off, she began pounding his head in with her right fist.

Everything started happening fast. Several people in the bar stood up and took Tifa's side, including Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge. The moment Tifa leapt on the soldier's back, the four troopers drew their guns and began shooting. The commander was busy struggling to get Tifa off, and in doing so prevented the troopers from getting a clear shot at her.

Biggs jumped over the bar and withdrew the frying pan often used by the owner when things got rowdy. He lowered it on the back of a troopers' head, killing him instantly. Grabbing the soldiers' gun, Biggs also began shooting.

Tifa felt a bullet graze her arm. Instinctively, she pulled it back, falling off the commander's back as she did so. As Tifa got up, she saw that one of the regulars was now using him as a shield for bullets. Out of the corner of her eye, Tifa saw one of her customers fall dead, dropping the pistol he had been shooting. A soldier, trying to flee the bar, accidentally kicked it in her direction. He was shot by Wedge, who had managed to get a mako gun, and fell down dead close to the exit. Tifa picked up the handgun and was relieved to find that there were still bullets. She aimed and shot at the struggling commander, who immediately collapsed in the man's arms.

The customer dropped his shield as it died. Tifa handed him the gun, she preferred fighting with her fists, she had more experience with them, plus it gave her more satisfaction.

Tifa turned, searching for another opponent. She saw the two remaining troopers trying to flee the bar. Jess saw them too. It appeared that during the fight, Jess had also picked up a mako gun. She quickly killed the two troopers.

The fight over, Tifa surveyed the destruction. Tables had been overturned, chairs thrown, and guns fired. Six people died that night. Only one of them was a customer.

But what Tifa found most surprising of all, was not that everybody had come to her side, but rather after everything was cleaned up, they went back to what they had been doing before. The dead bodies having been dragged out and dumped behind the bar, Tifa set about mopping up the blood. She noticed that Wedge had gathered the remaining mako guns and hid them under his seat. Tables were returned to their regular state, the chairs as well. Nobody said anything to anybody they normally wouldn't talk to. People acted as if the fight were a regular thing, when it was really far from normal.

Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge left shortly after the fight without saying anything to her. At 7 o'clock, Tifa's boss came in. By then, everything had been cleaned up. Since he didn't notice anything, Tifa decided not to mention it.

Though the bar was anything but silent, Tifa found it unusually quiet. While reflecting over the night's events, she came to the conclusion that everybody in the slums had a reason to hate Shinra, if only for the reason that they lived in the slums. After discovering this, Tifa found herself wondering what could be accomplished if everybody would just come together and fight the electrical company. It was stupid, thinking that such a thing could ever come to pass, but the thought that something could be done gave Tifa a new hope, if only a faint one.