Author's Note: The chapter where Sephiroth gets his own freak on. Oh, and has to deal with existential questions too. Meh. Warnings: lots of naughty stuff.

(For those who follow me in Ao3, I got artwork uploaded for each chapter now.)

CHAPTER 2: The Perfect Weapon – Two Weeks Later

Those irritating cameras again… Even in the dull lighting of his bedroom, with the blinders shut to block out the early red-blotched sun, his heightened senses could hear the electronic whirl of movement the lenses produced as they rotated and fixed on him. A pan here. A zoom-in there. Those mechanical eyes never left him. They followed him everywhere, from the rooms of his personal space to the public arena of Shinra's Headquarters. For twenty-four years, invisible watchers studied and catalogued his daily events, as if he were some lab rat. Perhaps he was. Perhaps his life had become someone's pet project; a project susceptible to mandatory evaluations and assessments based on captured visual data.

Sephiroth did not bother telling the woman with him about the hidden cameras in his apartment. The Director of the Weapons Development department was fully aware of the personal burdens he carried as a First-Class SOLDIER. She simply did not care. If anything, Ms. Scarlet welcomed the presence of cameras and an audience. It got her off.

They lay on his bed, repeatedly joining their nether parts together while the city of Midgar slowly stirred from its dormancy, signaled by a few car honks in the far distance. A prominent musk dominated the air in the bedroom; a combination of rosy perfume and oily ejaculated juices. Tangled sheets and discarded clothing had been carelessly tossed aside. An undone condom wrapper occupied the flat space on a nightstand where a razor and specks of blue dust remained.

They had spent the night fucking and it showed on their flushed and shiny bodies. Scarlet's golden hair swayed back and forth each time she dived in deep. That furry crevice between her legs kept Sephiroth slick, warm, and tightly secured.

"Mm, the Science Gods were good when they spat you out of their cunt, Sephiroth…" Scarlet murmured, unconcerned with her crude language.

While the rest of her remained nude and glossed with sweat, the jaunty woman still donned her thigh-high stockings and ridiculously expensive red platform shoes. Golden bracelets around her thin wrists jingled with each bounce she made. Meanwhile, a long leather belt was wrapped around her pale slender neck. She straddled Sephiroth with her long legs spread wide, filling herself with more of him.

"Mmph! It's like I'm being split into two," she uttered with a satisfied groan. "I love it. I fucking love it, hah… Hah! Tear me apart. Make me see stars. That's a direct order from topside, baby."

Focused on their rough pace, Sephiroth's hips shot upward. A low noise strayed from his throat. His well-defined pelvic muscles smoothly rolled in and out.

"Actually, Ms. Scarlet," he replied back with a soft grunt, "According to chain-of-command protocols, I am only obligated to answer to two people: President Shinra and SOLDIER's Union Executive, Lazard Deusericus. You may take your demands up to the Public Safety Division's secretary, however."

"Smart-ass. Stop giving me the rule book and just fuck me senseless."

"As you wish."

Their conjoined efforts increased in speed and harshness. Sephiroth yanked on the belt latched around Scarlet's neck, temporarily choking her. The woman flung her head back. A hoarse sound came out of her. Beads of sweat glided down her perked nipples. Scarlet's long and sharp nails grazed Sephiroth's chest, leaving angry red marks behind. Her insides tightly contracted around his hardened prick.

Gritting his teeth, Sephiroth pulled on the belt with extra force.

The Company party last night had been a dull affair for both of them. While its charity auction proved a success, Heidegger's annoying laugh triggered a migraine headache for Sephiroth. Fan boys and fan girls alike hounded him for photos and autographs. Likewise, the press constantly demanded comments over scandalous stories. The First-Class SOLDIER had heard it all. Was he still single? How much Gil did he annually make? Would he consider posing nude? Were the rumors of his mako addiction true? Sephiroth barely managed to get through that dreadful social gathering. Thus, when Scarlet offered him blue dust and a blowjob, it served as the perfect excuse to retire from the party early.

Sephiroth always knew the Weapons Development Director possessed a mean streak. Like the latest Shinra motorbike models she collected on the side as her hobby, the hot-blooded woman preferred speed and power between her legs. Thankfully, he had a knack for both.

Granted, many accused Scarlet of being one certified coldhearted bitch due to her overly ambitious nature and condescending mannerisms. Some even claimed she whored her way to the top, screwing all the top dogs in the Company – him included. Sephiroth didn't care. So long as she got him off and her department stayed out his department's business, her methods and actions didn't concern him. The woman had passion; she had fire. Sephiroth respected that. He attributed her provocative appearance as a means of getting what she needed for her division, mainly funds for research and projects.

Clever girl.

About the only habit Sephiroth could fault Scarlet for was that unique laugh that slipped out of her mouth from time to time. Heavens, it rivaled Heidegger's…

As for their random trysts, it had been interesting so far. Their elusive on-and-off again meetings had been going on for over a year. Both enjoyed a good fuck whenever the opportunity for it came up – whether in the stalls of a restroom or at a secluded booth of a classy restaurant. It seemed to work. For the most part. Sephiroth was well aware Scarlet had a slew of partners on the side. At times, his potent senses detected multiple unfamiliar scents on her ivory skin on the same day. It couldn't be helped. He was often deployed on various missions to fulfill her needs. Sephiroth took what he could, when he could. And that was that.

Sephiroth finally relaxed his grip on the belt. He slowed down their tempo to give the woman a moment to recover. Face flushed with red, Scarlet breathed. A half-formed, sloppy smile appeared on her face.

"Oh, baby…" she said with dilated and unfocused blue eyes. Her entire body trembled. "You are magnificent, Sephiroth. Nothing gets me more worked up than encountering a weapon with enough juice and power it makes the whole world quiver in fear."

"I would expect nothing less from a woman who constructs instruments of mass destruction for a living," Sephiroth noted, sounding amused. He pivoted into her one more time, hard and deep.

"Ah! What can I say? I'm a woman with an eye for detail." Bending down to kiss him wetly on the lips, Scarlet's breasts fell and pressed against his chest. Their tongues intertwined before she testified, "I can easily distinguish high-quality weapons from the shitty cheap ones."

Smiling, Sephiroth deepened their kiss until she eventually got off him and lowered herself. Scarlet swallowed as much of him as she could, despite the juice-laden condom that tasted of her essence. With great care, Sephiroth gathered her matted blond hair with his fingers and pulled it away from her face. They made constant eye contact while her soft suckle sounds echoed across the dark lit bedroom.

Rejecting the early sun's light, Sephiroth kept the window blinders on. The darker the better. Unlike Scarlet, he valued his privacy. He didn't want their heated moments to appear in prominent display and become someone's analytical study. He already knew a camera was hidden inside the ceiling's fire detector above them; it captured a perfect downward shot of his bed. As Scarlet's head repeatedly bobbed up and down on his shaft, Sephiroth tried not to notice it.

The knowledge of being recorded used to upset him. In his younger reckless days, Sephiroth gashed out the eyes of every camera he came across with his sword. He tore the place up and thought it'd make some powerful statement to his superiors. It didn't. Instead, those dreadful cameras returned – in greater numbers – and he had to report to the Disciplinary Committee Board for punishment.

Privacy proved to be a non-existent matter as far as Shinra's Science Department was concerned. All SOLDIERs were regularly monitored. Allegedly, it ensured they functioned without any unwanted side-effects from their monthly mako injections. But Sephiroth knew there was more to that story. Any man who donned the SOLDIER uniform became Shinra's property. As such, the top heads scrutinized their activities and people they interacted with. Questionable material or companions were swiftly dealt with.

Once, when Sephiroth was fifteen, he had taken an interest toward his sparring partner; a boy with wonderfully shaped lips and blue eyes. They'd shared a passionate kiss in the locker room – his first. Their time together had eventually led to a different type of sword play. But within weeks of their affair, that beautiful boy abruptly disappeared. No messages. No phone calls. He'd vanished without a trace.

It was only months later Sephiroth had learned of his fate. Second-Class SOLDIER Found Decomposed in the Trash: that was the headline of Midgar Times when a body was recovered from the Slums' landfills below the Plate. By then, it was several months old and chunks of flesh had been devoured by the starved canines of the underworld. Only a Shinra ID card helped identify the remains. Those lovely lips that once pressed against Sephiroth's mouth and body… they'd been reduced to skeletal teeth and gum.

The investigators – those shady Turks – claimed it was foul play at the hands of anti-Shinra Slum gangs. But Sephiroth knew better. Finding bodies in the landfills was a common affair. Yet this specific one somehow made the headlines. An unrecognizable number had also sent Sephiroth the online article via text. Coincidence? He didn't think so. It was a message.

As the top SOLDIER of the First Class division, demands were made of him and his public image. Sephiroth had become the face of SOLDIER. Thousands of impressionable boys looked up to him. They gladly abandoned their homes to join the army in the hopes of becoming just like him. Shinra's recruitment capture rates increased ten-fold, those numbers still climbing. The Company had more than enough boys to replace the ones lost during bloody conflicts or who had perished from mako side effects. Because of this, Sephiroth had a reputation to uphold. The higher-ups wanted him to know the consequences of not abiding by Shinra's standards.

Point taken.

Since that gruesome discovery years ago, Sephiroth maintained his distance from any males that took a fancy in him, and he to them. It was better this way. So long as he kept up with a very heterosexual image, Shinra left his sex life and bed partners alone.

Below, Scarlet finally removed her lips from his length. She repositioned herself on top of him. Her large breasts bounced as she impaled herself again and again. Producing a low throaty moan, she frantically whispered, "Take it. Take it. Take my pussy. Take my wet hot pussy. Nngh! I want you to; I need you to. Go on. Take that fat cock and pound it into my wet hot pussy like a good soldier, baby…"

Oh, how Scarlet loved to talk, whether it was in the board room or during sex – especially during sex. No one could get her to shut up. Sephiroth bit back a chuckle.

While her dirty words always amused him, they did gain the desired effect. Sephiroth exhaled. The rubber-wrapped member inside her womb stirred. A coiling pressure that traveled to his tip signaled a release soon. His body shuddered in anticipation for it the more Scarlet mumbled vulgar nothings into his ears. Before it got to that point, however, he pulled out to alter their positions.

Sephiroth pushed Scarlet down on the mattress and rolled her onto her stomach. As the woman understood his intentions and rose on all fours, he mounted her from behind like a jock ready to ride his wild stallion would. For a moment, Sephiroth thought of the beautiful boy from his youth. They were ignorant and inexperienced but managed to come each time in this manner. Sephiroth inhaled sharply as he inserted himself inside Scarlet's small puckered entry.

His bed partner gasped. Scarlet's hands clenched onto the sheets. With their crude connection being made, she whimpered, "Split me apart, Sephiroth… Make it hurt… Make it spectacular…"

Sephiroth felt her rectal muscles squeeze all around him and briefly withdrew. Too tight – she was too eager and too tight. Even with his slicked condom, it wasn't enough. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Two fingers caressed the moist spot between her thighs, tenderly tracing the organic shape of vulva lips. When his thumb brushed against a tiny erect nub there, the woman softly hissed.

"I'll give you a lasting memory…" Sephiroth told her, sinking his teeth into her shoulder.

He repeatedly traced that hot spot with a finger until Scarlet began to relax. Her rim stretched out for him. Sephiroth eased forward, slipping the whole plump head of his cock inside. His fingers stayed on her clit while he slid in deeper and deeper.

Once he finally made it all the way in, a string of curse words erupted from Scarlet's mouth, both condemning and praising him. She half-laughed and half-cried. The ferocious woman started to buck her buttocks against him, permitting him to slip in and out of her constricted back entry. Sephiroth didn't waste time. Sitting upright on his knees for a better position, he gradually built up speed before ramming hard and fast between her cheeks. The back frame of the bed banged against the wall from his sheer force. Their groans escalated in volume. One hand gripped Scarlet's belt again while the other roughly pulled on her hair.

Tears streamed down Scarlet's blushed face. Being choked again, her voice crumbled and emerged only as a small plea. "Faster… Harder…"

Sephiroth yanked on the belt aggressively to shut her up for good, nearly snapping her neck. He wanted to hear only the sounds of her animal-like grunts. Their damped flesh slapped loudly. His pelvic thrusts became pistol-like; the abdominal muscles shined with sweat as they contracted and stretched in a consistent fast rhythm. Scarlet's fancy bracelets clanged from his non-stop pounding. Within seconds, her body violently shook. Her eyes rolled back until they showed only white. Foam collected at the corners of her parted mouth. Clear fluid dripped down her stockings and onto the fine linen sheets.

Gripping the belt, Sephiroth let Scarlet ride out her high. It didn't take long for him to reach his own blissful state. His gaze shot upward. Staring at the fire detector on the ceiling again, Sephiroth's green eyes illuminated brilliantly within the darkness of his personal chambers. Even as the lower regions of his body convulsed and the condom filled with sticky white-hot seed, he didn't look away from the one-eyed invisible God glaring back at him.

He came hard.

They'd collapsed on the mattress shortly after. Sephiroth released his grip on the belt and Scarlet spent several minutes coughing and heaving, learning how to breathe again. The air became thick and warm. Sephiroth's halfway closed his eyes. That drowsy euphoric effect from after-sex threatened to take hold of him, lulling him toward sleep. He rolled his head to one side and idly watched the lines of early morning light threaten to leak through his blinders.

His apartment was fifty floors up in Shinra's Headquarters. Even so, he could hear the sounds of his city. Those varied noises became more pronounced as the dark evening clouds began to part and brilliant purples and reds filled the sky. He could hear the squawking of birds on his window sills as well as the roaring rush of early-shift city buses. Somewhere in the distance, a train's whistle blew.

According to the clock on his wall, it was still too early. Sephiroth had at least two hours before this morning's briefing. Either he used that time to get some much needed shut-eye or forgo sleep altogether and hit the gym to get ahead on today's schedule. He'd conclude his work-out with a nice hot bath before meeting his superior.

The woman beside him stirred. After wiping the tears and sweat off her face, Scarlet leaned over to his nightstand. She gathered the specks of blue dust there with the razor and offered, "I got enough for two hits. Want one?"

"Some other time…" Sephiroth sat up at the edge of his bed. Slipping off his condom now, he tossed it into his trash bin and glanced back at her. "You realize getting debilitated this early is an ill-advised idea, yes? You have a meeting with President Shinra at 0600 hours if I recall correctly."

"I do," Scarlet confirmed. She loudly snorted up the line of blue dust anyway and winced when the chemicals kicked in. Her next words came out fast and higher in pitch. "But I'll need this to get by today. Especially today. Fucking Heidegger is going to issue my status report on Sister Ray's development to the President. He's going to make himself look like the imbecile he already is."

"And that's a problem for you?"

Rubbing her nose with the back of her hand, Scarlet muttered, "Damn right it's a problem. I'm the main developer of this project, Sephiroth. I know what's required to alleviate Sister Ray's issues. Its current Terfenol-D alloy structure has proven unstable and will likely result in excessive overheating before we can even fire a damn shot. Either we need to implement a different ventilation system or reskin it with a different metal. I also suspect we'll need a substantial amount of materia, far more than originally speculated, to supply her with enough juice to reach our desired energy output percentage."

"You have your work cut out for you, then."

"Yea. And if I don't acquire the necessary funds for this expensive face-lift, all of my efforts will be for naught. My reputation as a weapon's developer blows up along with the Sister Ray." Scarlet narrowed her blue eyes. "It should be me presenting the report, not that jolly-fat-ass man. Why President Shinra keeps letting Heidegger run the show is beyond me. That clueless, pathetic dork couldn't find his dick even if I grabbed it for him."

"I'm surprised you haven't already."

"Screw you, Sephiroth."

"Apologies, Ms. Scarlet, but you just did."

That snarky response earned him a glare and a punch on the arm. Sephiroth scoffed. Before Scarlet could land another hit on him, he instantly grabbed her wrist. The expensive gold bracelets violently jingled. Scarlet cursed. She was ready to slap him with her other hand until Sephiroth snatched that too and pulled her toward him. The First-Class SOLDIER smashed their lips together. They settled into a familiar embrace.

"You're an asshole sometimes…" the woman in his arms mumbled in between their rough kissing. "I fucking love that about you."

"I know."

She reached below and grabbed his spent member. Squeezing it tightly, her inch-long manicured nails sunk deeply into the warm bulky flesh. Sephiroth sucked in air.

Scarlet had a nasty habit of resorting to physical violence whenever someone overstepped their boundaries. She already threatened to slice off his cock during his sleep if she ever found him with another woman. Her hypocrisy and lack of self-discipline were endearing to Sephiroth though. Scarlet's terrible flaws entertained him. Likewise, her impulsive nature kept him on his toes.

He liked her.

Pulling away from her at last, Sephiroth rose from his bed. His semi-erect cock dangled while he gathered up his tussled silvery hair. As he secured his high ponytail with an elastic band, the long loose bangs fell to the sides of his face.

Sephiroth looked back at his bed partner and announced, "I doubt I can sleep after this. I'm heading out. I'll be back in an hour for a bath though. You're welcomed to rest here and join me on my return."

"Heading to the recreational center for a nice work-out after a night-long fuckfest?" Scarlet remarked with a brow raised. When he nodded, she grinned and shook her head. "You're a well-oiled machine, Sephiroth. Any normal man would've called in sick and slept the day off after having a night like ours."

"Coming from the Weapons Development Director, I'll take that as a compliment."

Scarlet chuckled. Under the influence of blue dust, she laughed louder and longer than necessary. Her face filled with a warmer color. Consequently, she made that peculiar laugh that always annoyed Sephiroth. He winced. Turning away, he searched for his PHS and soon discovered the device next to his abandoned trousers on the floor.

"Mm… I imagine nurturing the perfect weapon must cost the Science Department a pretty penny," Scarlet professed later.

Thankfully, the woman had quieted down. She now cocked her head to one side and observed Sephiroth bend over to grab his phone. A crooked grin shaped her lips as she surveyed his fine, toned ass.

"I estimate monthly expenditures, alone, run in the six digits – excluding supplementary costs," she declared, "Not that I blame the Science Department. You definitely are an investment, Sephiroth; every inch of you is…" Scarlet's smile widened. "And to think, I can fuck you whenever I want."

Phone in hand, Sephiroth stood at full height. He stared at her. "I imagine you get a rise out of that."

"Why, yes," Scarlet admitted with a laugh, "Yes, I do. I've obtained the most dangerous biological weapon in the Planet; one that has the body of a God. It's certainly a rush."

The silver-haired man responded with a scoff and briefly scanned his missed messages.

"It's also not often I find a man who can keep up with me," resumed the woman. "Most bore me to death, but not you. You're on a different class altogether."

"Interesting. I thought something similar about you, Ms. Scarlet." Sephiroth looked up from the PHS' screen and took a step forward. "I've a proposition for you, by the way."

"Oh?" At this, his lover lay on her side. Scarlet propped herself up by an elbow while her free arm rested casually on a raised knee. The bizarre-shaped lips between her spread thighs glistened. "Tell me what's on your mind, baby."

Sephiroth didn't immediately respond. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Unlike so many buffoons who spent half an hour going around the issue before finally getting to the point, he preferred to choose his words carefully.

"I have two weeks' worth of vacation coming up," he addressed at last, "And as you know, it's mandatory I take it, despite my insistence that I don't need one."

"Yea? And?"

"I've decided to travel to Costa del Sol this year." Sephiroth set his phone down on a dresser beside him. His blaze-green eyes softened when he turned to her. "I want you to join me."

It logically made sense. Sephiroth enjoyed Scarlet's company and suspected she felt the same way. Of all her lovers, she kept coming back to him. That surely had to mean something. Granted, they didn't see each other all the time. Nor did they see eye-to-eye on many issues. Scarlet was rash and explosive while he was subtle and reserved. But Sephiroth thought they complimented each other well enough. He welcomed their stark differences. The more time he spent with her, the more he entertained the thought of their relationship – if that's what this was – evolving into something more.

The main obstacle, of course, was time. Between their careers and priorities, they had limited time to see each other. SOLDIER's constant demands also didn't help Sephiroth's predicament. If he wasn't being deployed halfway across the world to stop a rebel group, he was being sent out to ensure the construction of a new mako reactor went smoothly. Sephiroth wanted to make the most of his upcoming vacation. Quality time with Scarlet was all he needed to determine if they had potential. On paper, they were already an ideal match.

On the bed, the woman remained silent. Scarlet stared at some empty spot on the mattress. Her red-polished fingernails quietly clicked together. After what felt like a century, she looked up at him.

"Well, I'll have to see what my schedule looks like," came her answer. "My department has a lot of groundwork to cover during this fiscal year. Not to mention, your Director keeps hounding me for weapon upgrades – as if I can pull out materia-enhanced weaponry outta my ass like that." Scarlet snapped her fingers. "And with this Sister Ray project looming over my damn head, many modifications are needed to get that girl properly running. I need to outline a detailed spec sheet for all the retards who can't fucking distinguish a flange from a K-Lock nut. So long story short? I don't know."

Taking in every word she said, Sephiroth slowly nodded his head. "Understandable. You have a lot of priorities at the moment. I don't wish to impose my schedule onto yours. However, just know I don't need an answer right now. I haven't decided on a time to take my leave yet. Therefore, I can still adjust accordingly to whatever window of opportunity arises from your end."

Scarlet blew air out of her mouth. "Suit yourself, angel-face. But, personally, I'd take your vacation now and not wait for me. I can guarantee you nothing."

"Regardless, I will wait for a more definite answer."

"Sure…" Her last response sounded flat. The Weapons Development Director looked away and leaned toward the night stand again. Scarlet loudly snorted up the last line of blue dust.

While Scarlet's noncommittal answer did irk him some, Sephiroth could not contest it. Nor did he want to. If anyone understood the complicated lifestyle of a top-ranked company employee, it was him.

He stood in silence and watched a small smile form on Scarlet's red lips just as the dust took its hold on her again. She moaned and lied back down on the mattress. Spreading her long legs apart, Scarlet faintly combed the fair hair there. She began fingering herself.

Sephiroth observed the lazy up-and-down motions her fingers made while hearing the non-stop thumping of her heart. It had doubled its rate since her previous hit. The beads of sweat that leaked from Scarlet's pores smelled sweeter than usual too. Unlike a super enhanced man like him, her frail body had to work twice as hard to sustain the effects of cerulean chemicals.

Sephiroth knew this woman wouldn't last long. Scarlet lived life too much on the edge. At the rate she was going, she'd become another pretty face who carelessly killed herself over something ridiculous; some tragic story related to the vices of this steel-made city in the sky. If Scarlet was lucky, she'd go out with a big bang before it reached that point. Sephiroth made a mental note to send her blue roses on that unfortunate day. Blue roses would match the color of her lovely eyes.

Scarlet licked her ruby red lips. Still touching herself, she suggested in a half-dazed voice, "I'm hungry. Let's get some breakfast."

"I'm not hungry," Sephiroth pointed out.

"Fine, I'll eat. You just sit there looking pretty while picking up the tab for this lovely lady, like the proper gentleman that you are."

Sephiroth's lips eased into a smile. "We both know I'm not a gentleman and you're not a lady, Ms. Scarlet. We belong to another category altogether. That aside, I already indicated my intentions to you."

"Yeah, to hit the gym, take a bath, and clock-in like the trooper you are," Scarlet reaffirmed with a growl. When she noticed Sephiroth not budging from his spot, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. If you're not going to have breakfast with me, then at least eat some of this before you leave." Scarlet spread her moist vulva lips apart with two fingers. A slick nub stuck out. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, remember?"

He knew he had to hit the gym soon if he intended to make good on that desired hour long bath. Nonetheless, Sephiroth approached the bed and joined the woman anyway. He positioned his face right above her mound. Between Scarlet's legs, he looked up and noted with a smirk on his face, "Crude."

Then he followed the path of her slit with his tongue and lapped up the juices there.

By 0700 hours, the three cups of coffee Sephiroth had hoped would sustain him for the morning's briefing wore off. A struggle to keep his eyes opened and appear composed ensued. Fully dressed and groomed, he sat at a conference table surrounded by other First-Class SOLDIERs on the 49th floor. His fine black leather fitted snugly against his lean and tall shape. He didn't bother strapping on his armor plates today. Without the extra weight, the upper part of his torso felt relaxed; a most welcomed sensation given his current lethargic state. Sephiroth kept his arms crossed as he listened to his Union Executive's words. Having not slept at all, the elite SOLDIER did not speak throughout the hour-long briefing unless directly addressed.

At the end of the conference table, Lazard Deusericus rambled on about the state of the Slums and what procedures were needed to secure the area from rogue beasts and the eco-terrorist group, AVALANCHE. For the latter, they had yet to locate which sector housed their base of operations. Plenty of rumors circulated and attested that the group was planning something big. However, intel on that remained few and sparse. Because President Shinra viewed AVALANCHE as a threat, the Turks were brought in. SOLDIER had no choice but to sit tight while the Suits conducted their investigation to locate the rats.

It had all become a waiting game.

So far, everything seemed at rest. Wutai remained quiet during peace talk negotiations. The construction of the mako reactor in Junon was nearly complete and faced no opposition – as if a village of fishermen could ever pose a threat – and President Shinra did not require an escort since he wouldn't be traveling outside of Midgar for a long while. That left only AVALANCHE to deal with.

Because Lazard wanted his strongest men on standby, ready to flush out AVALANCHE at a moment's notice, Sephiroth knew he wouldn't be deployed any time soon. Instead, he'd be stationed in Midgar until some disaster demanded his immediate attention. Sephiroth was glad. It meant more time getting his personal affairs sorted. However, the lack of action between now and then also annoyed him.

Lazard had a terrible tendency of assigning his top First-Class SOLDIER to mundane tasks whenever he was placed on standby, namely overlooking the training of lower ranks. It mostly served as an effort to boost company morale; the Director wanted the army to remember what they were striving for. Sephiroth cared little for Lazard's tactics though. He was a weapon designed to infiltrate and destroy, not a babysitter. Either these boys did the work and survived the program or washed out. End of story. Regardless of the outcome, it wasn't his problem. Sephiroth suspected the other First-Class SOLDIERs in this room felt the same way.

Among Sephiroth's company were two notable faces. First-Class SOLDIER Genesis Rhapsodos and First-Class SOLDIER Angeal Hewley. Aside from being the only swordsmen capable of making Sephiroth break a sweat during a scrimmage, they were also the only two people he confided in.

Sephiroth was admittedly relieved to see Genesis this morning. After weeks without incident during peace talks in Wutai, the auburn-haired man had finally been permitted to return to Midgar and await new orders. He arrived late last night and skipped the Company party despite the PR Department's insistence.

By the looks of it, Genesis was still adjusting to this time zone. In his seat, he leaned heavily to one side and held his chin up with an up-raised hand. The fingers from his other hand quietly tapped on the chair's armrest. He blankly stared at the holographic image of Midgar that projected in front of him. Briefly, Genesis closed his eyes. Then he removed a dumbapple from his coat's pocket and took a large bite of it. No doubt, it was an effort for him to stay awake.

Angeal fared better. Sitting beside Genesis, he directed his eyes at the red sections Lazard highlighted on the holographic map. His thumb idly stroked the coarse black hairs of his chin. On the outside, Angeal's muscular form and prominent face made him intimidating. Sephiroth, himself, initially mistook him for a rough character when they first met years ago. He quickly learned otherwise.

There was a reason why so many men regarded Angeal as the heart of SOLDIER. Whereas Sephiroth and Genesis loathed mingling with lower ranks and outsiders, he reached out to anyone. He acted as a moral compass to those who needed it. Largely stationed at Midgar, Angeal mentored potential candidates and assisted Lazard in disciplining the bad apples in the group.

Content in seeing his comrades-in-arms together again, Sephiroth swiftly retrieved his PHS the moment Lazard had his back to him. Under the table, he typed a quick text message.

SilverElite (07:06AM): Training Room tonight?

Straight ahead, Genesis shifted in his seat. He looked down, likely to check his phone. Angeal did the same. Almost simultaneously, both men glanced up at Sephiroth after they read his message. A glint appeared in Genesis' icy blue eyes while Angeal's brows slightly furrowed. Sephiroth saw them type a response when Lazard looked away from them. Moments later, his PHS quietly buzzed.

RedLeather (07:07AM): Affirmative.

KeeperofHonor (07:07AM): No texting during the meeting. The rules…

Sephiroth's mouth contorted into a grin. He typed an immediate reply.

SilverElite (07:07AM): You just broke that rule by texting back, Angeal.

Across, Genesis covered his mouth to suppress a small laugh. He intentionally coughed when his action drew unwanted attention from nearby SOLDIERs. Meanwhile, Angeal frowned and stared directly at Sephiroth. The big man rolled his eyes. He finally consented to tonight's plans with a silent nod.

By this time, Lazard started to wrap up their briefing. He rose from his seat and eyed each man in the room with him. "Thank you, gentlemen. You'll find further details with regards to our current agendas and this briefing in your inbox. I'll be meeting with each of you soon to discuss your assigned tasks so keep all channels opened. With that said, if you have further questions or comments, please address them to me at any given time. This now concludes our meeting."

Every First-Class SOLDIER present rose from their seat. They began to disperse and exit the Briefing Room. Sephiroth joined Genesis and Angeal at the other side of the conference table. All three were prepared to leave together until Lazard approached them.

"Rhapsodos, I'm pleased to have you back," the Director expressed. He removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with a handkerchief he'd extracted from a chest pocket. "We didn't get a chance to talk due to last night's charity event. I heard you had a helluva time dealing with some hostiles in Wutai. What are your thoughts on the negotiations there so far?"

"Inconclusive," was all Genesis said. "You'll have my report on Wutai's current status this afternoon."

"What about off the record?"

"Off the record?" Genesis gave a half-hearted chuckle. "Off the record, sir, President Shinra's methods in buying the people off with materia and other valuables are proving effective. Wutai's War Council is divided. Rebel fractions remain, but have significantly lessened in numbers. I surmise Wutai has one good fight left in her before finally succumbing to Shinra's influence."

"Yes. I thought that was the case…" Lazard murmured. He stopped wiping his glasses and slipped them back on. "Good work, Rhapsodos. Things have been quiet here in Midgar since your departure, so enjoy some down-time before I issue you your next orders."

"Much obliged, Director."

Lazard turned to Angeal next. "How are things going in your end? Have you amassed a list of potential Second-Class candidates for my consideration yet?"

"Yes, sir. I'll send it over right away."

"Wonderful. Any particular names I should look out for?"

"Third-Class SOLDIER Zackary Fair," Angeal answered without hesitation. He took a step forward. "With your permission, sir, should Fair be elevated to Second-Class rank I'd like to take him under my wing. This young man shows tremendous potential."

"Oh?" There was a lively beat in Lazard's voice now. "You regard this boy highly enough to make him your apprentice. I can't imagine why I wouldn't give you permission."

"Thank you, sir."

Lazard nodded. His expression gradually turned to a solemn one when he next inquired, "And what's the progress on that First-Class cadet?"

At this, Angeal crossed his arms and stood more rigidly. "Cadet Strife is a tough one to crack. He still hasn't talked. I've moved him from isolation though since he's been otherwise cooperative. Meanwhile, Cadet Mason remains in ICU."

Lazard developed a tight-lipped appearance in reaction to Angeal's news.

"Until now, Cadet Strife has had a clean record," revealed the thickset First-Class SOLDIER, "Aside from a bad case of motion sickness, his superiors all tell me he's an outstanding cadet and has garnered the respect of his peers. I also learned from Strife's squadron that Cadet Mason has had a long history of harassing him." Stroking his chin hair with his thumb, Angeal observed aloud, "This could be a case of self-defense, sir."

"And yet, no reports of harassment have been brought up to my office."

"True. Then again, cadets are reluctant to seek help, let alone, file a report."

"And why wouldn't they?"

"With all due respect, Director, there's a common mentality among the troops that, by reporting on another, they're ratting out one of their own." Angeal lowered both hands to his sides. His voice became quieter. "Furthermore, boys like Cadet Strife don't want to appear as weak among their lot; they can't afford to. The barracks is a dog-eat-dog world. Principles like loyalty and strength are demanded and expected, anything less means immediate excommunication."

"I see your point. Unfortunately, I can't exonerate Cadet Strife until I can confirm it was self-defense. I need to know what transpired between these two boys and why. Without Cadet Strife's account of the events, if Cadet Mason succumbs to his injuries then I have no choice but to expel Cadet Strife and place him into custody." With a soft exhale, Lazard shoved his hands into his coat's pockets. "Continue your investigation, Hewley. But please, put some sense into that boy and get him to talk. For his sake."

"Yes, sir."

The Director turned his attentions to the final member of the trio. He didn't immediately speak to the silver-haired SOLDIER. Instead, Lazard and Sephiroth stood face-to-face and stared at each other.

"Sephiroth," the Director announced after the silence dragged on for too long, "Please accompany me to my office. I have an important matter to discuss with you."

The tone in his voice sounded low and even, but that small familiar smile had made its way across Lazard's lips. Sephiroth didn't question the purpose of this meeting. He'd been called up before on various occasions. Anything subject for debate or detailed discussion was always handled in private anyway, away from prying eyes. Sephiroth nodded in agreement. He followed the Director out of the Briefing Room. Angeal and Genesis walked a few steps behind.

Once outside, Sephiroth remained by Lazard's side as they headed for the elevators down the hallway. One became available and opened for them. Lazard was the first to step inside. Before Sephiroth entered after him and parted ways with Angeal and Genesis, the latter man managed to lean in close. Genesis whispered a few words into Sephiroth's ear.

"Poor little Sephiroth. You're being sent to the Principal's Office for detention… Naughty boy."

Sephiroth briefly glared back at him. He entered the elevator and watched the glassed doors silently shut on Genesis' smug face.

Standing side-by-side with his superior now, the elevator trip up to the 51st floor had been a silent one for Sephiroth. Not that he minded. He preferred silence over idle, meaningless talk. Too many people spoke too many words. Thankfully, Lazard wasn't that type of man.

With wavy fair hair that reached to his neck and delicate features, the Director of SOLDIER initially looked young and inexperienced. He didn't rule his division with an iron fist like the other executives. But what Lazard lacked in appearance and attitude, he made up with in action and a level-headed mind. The Director preferred to listen to his men and offered input only when necessary. And while he didn't exactly inspire greatness, he created a well-balanced environment that allowed everyone to perform amicably. Sephiroth didn't doubt Lazard's compassion toward those who served under him resulted in minimum casualty losses. Had it been Heidegger in charge, they'd all be sent to the meat grinder.

Of course, it took Sephiroth awhile to get used to Lazard. His questionable fashion sense caused the First-Class SOLDIER to raise his brows on numerous occasions – those white gloves looked absolutely horrendous with that penciled suit. He also thought the man was too sensible for this line of work. Whether that came from gullibility or ignorance, Sephiroth couldn't tell. The Director's credentials remained solid but he lacked the conviction to thrust a sword into an enemy's heart without flinching, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. The Director of SOLDIER was no fighter.

Still, Sephiroth respected Lazard enough to entertain some of his ideas and suggestions. He had his strengths and charms. His attractive face also made him pleasant to look at.

The elevator finally arrived to its designated floor. Lazard allowed Sephiroth to step out first.

As with all his visits to the Director's Office, the room appeared spotless, spacious, and very bright. Lazard kept to the bare minimum: book shelves that lined the walls, a large semi-circled desk, a secondary workstation with a long table, and a few seating arrangements. There were no photos. No lively green plants. No quirky statues or posters. With the absence of sentimental values, the Director became an enjoyable mystery for Sephiroth to solve.

"Please, have a seat," Lazard said and gestured toward the chair across his desk.

Sephiroth preferred to stand but complied anyway out of obligation. He occupied his assigned chair and placed one long leg over the other. As he waited for the other man to speak, Lazard wandered to the coffee machine by his desk. He poured its hot contents into two porcelain decently-sized cups. Already familiar with how Sephiroth took his beverage, the Director kept it mostly black.

"You look tired, Sephiroth," the Director mentioned as he offered the cup to the silver-haired SOLDIER. "I imagine you bit off more than you could chew last night."

"Intermingling with multiple people with multiple interests always taxes my patience," admitted Sephiroth and took a sip. He quietly hummed to himself; Lazard had the right mind to use only high-quality grains than that instant-ready powder crap.

Lazard took the seat across Sephiroth. The iconic Shinra Electric Power Company logo appeared directly behind him on a glass wall. He cast his eyes down while he stirred cream and sugar into his coffee. "I was surprised you left the party earlier than usual."

"I got bored."

"Understandable. Events like that drag on longer than they should." Lazard laughed when he soon disclosed, "Things did escalate quickly after Heidegger got drunk. He took his aggression out on a few infantrymen. Four Turks had to escort him back to his quarters. I hear he's still sleeping it off."

Sephiroth took another gulp of his coffee but said nothing.

Still mixing his cup's contents, Lazard commented in quieter voice, "I also heard you left with the Weapons Development Director… Some say you two have become close."

Sephiroth glanced up with his green eyes. As he observed the other man, he noticed the Director kept his gaze low. Lazard's finely shaped brows shifted a bit while his lips formed a thinner line.

"Catching up on today's gossip, I see," Sephiroth replied at last. His voice sounded mirthful. Noticing the frown on Lazard's face, he set the cup away from his lips and demanded, "Is that why I'm here? My personal affairs concern you?"

"No, that isn't it. But since we're on the topic, I will say you getting involved with Scarlet is a bad idea."

"Oh?"

After setting his spoon aside, Lazard took a long sip from his hot beverage. He licked his lips afterward and stared at the man across him. "That woman is a gambit. She has a habit of getting close to key players in this Company. It's rumored she's gathering information on behalf of the President to get dirt on them and ensure everyone is falling in line."

"Is that actual fact or mere speculation?"

Lazard's jaw visibly reset itself. He set his coffee down and grew quiet.

Sephiroth chuckled. "Forgive me, but speaking ill of another executive without any conclusive evidence to support your claims is in poor taste. I expected better from you, Director." He placed his cup on Lazard's desk. Sephiroth's newly formed smile demonstrated a smug quality to it. "But thank you for sharing your concerns with me anyway. For a moment, I thought you were simply upset I left the party to fuck someone that wasn't you."

Lazard instantly sat upright in his chair. His brows drew evenly together.

"Male-on-male relations are strictly forbidden here," Sephiroth supplied afterward as matter-of-fact. "Of course, you already knew that. There's no point in me addressing company regulations… Is there?"

Briefly shutting his eyes, Lazard lifted his glasses high enough to massage his closed lids with a finger and thumb. "Sephiroth…" he muttered. "…Why are you always like this?"

Sephiroth's laughter instantly filled the room. He sat further back in his chair and eyed the man as a cat eyed a bird. "Perhaps it's because this game we've been playing for a long time is amusing."

Lazard glared at him now. His mouth halfway parted, as if to say something. Sephiroth cut him off before he got the chance.

"It's not my fault you're attracted to me," the silver-haired subordinate testified. Sephiroth slowly rose from his chair and leaned over the desk. Without notice, his hand reached out and snatched Lazard by his necktie. He jerked the Director forward until they were face-to-face; their lips only inches apart. "It's not my fault you imagine my mouth on your cock each time I'm called up to your office. It's not my fault you want to spread yourself on this desk and have me ride you until you see only electric-blazed lights."

In Sephiroth's grasp, the Director of SOLDIER didn't move, speak, or breathe.

Sephiroth kept his unusual mako eyes on him. The jade color in them intensified. "The crude thoughts and desires kept within you are not my responsibility. I'm merely expressing them out in the open. Take that as you will."

Sephiroth finally released him. Lazard fumbled backwards while the elite SOLDIER calmly reclaimed his seat. He drank up the rest of his cup's contents.

Lazard's infatuation with his top First-Class SOLDIER was a well-guarded secret to everyone but Sephiroth himself. He had recognized the telltale signs long ago. During their morning briefings, the Director's eyes typically wandered to him. His stare always lingered a second longer than necessary. Even the way Lazard addressed him, the words spoken slowly and with great care, possessed a subtle detail only lovers would recognize.

Each of their private meetings had consequently become a dance. Because no one else had caught on, it was a matter exclusive to them. On most days, Sephiroth played ignorant. He pretended not to notice Lazard's heated glances or the brief moments of contact whenever the Director passed him a document or cup of coffee. But on moments like this, when Lazard became too invested in his personal affairs? Sephiroth relished in acknowledging the truth.

"You can be cruel sometimes, Sephiroth…" claimed Lazard as he sat back down, unable to meet the other man's eyes. He readjusted his tie. "Your failure to empathize with anyone continues to be a thorn on your side. No wonder you're seeing Scarlet – you're perfect together."

At those words, Sephiroth's smile faded. He finished his coffee and set the cup aside. "I see the world for what it is: an unmerciful playground."

"And yet you've never had someone spill your unrequited desires out in the open for sport. How could you possibly understand the world, Sephiroth?"

The decayed image of his first lover briefly flashed in Sephiroth's mind. His voice was nearly lost to silence when he whispered, "You'd be surprised by that answer, Director…"

Admittedly, Sephiroth enjoyed the complex relationship he shared with Lazard; it gave him a release. A raw dangerous energy always dominated the air whenever the Director requested his presence. It held the potential for obscene actions and words; things that were destined never to pass given their high status and predicaments. For Sephiroth, spilling Lazard's lust toward other men out in the open like this was as much an act of exposing his own. And it wasn't an act made out of sport either.

It was an act of mercy.

"Let's move on to the purpose of this meeting," Lazard quickly suggested, trying to sound as aloof as possible. As if to settle his nerves, he reached for his cup of coffee.

In silence, Sephiroth watched him take several sips of it. He mentally noted the subtle trembling of his hands but said nothing.

"I realize a man of your talents must find certain work dreadfully boring," his superior finally assessed. "Doing paper work and evaluating the talent of our lower ranks doesn't give you a challenge. Am I correct in saying this?"

A blank look painted Sephiroth's delicate features. "What do you think, Director?"

Lazard nodded. "Yes. That's what I thought… You've exercised your right as a First-Class SOLDIER to refuse a mission on multiple occasions. I know that whatever I throw at you won't stick if it doesn't meet your expectations or standards."

"I access the situation, Director," Sephiroth promptly explained himself. "If I conclude the lower ranked SOLDIERs would benefit the most from a particular mission, I pass on it. Not only do they gain actual combat experience, but it also gives you the opportunity to survey them in action. My presence would only hinder their progress." He crossed his arms and later alleged as a second-thought, "Not all missions are dire enough to demand my assistance anyway. Half the time, the request comes from some overly ambitious fool who wants my number or photograph."

That last part made Lazard smile. "Yes, I agree. That's why I've never questioned your judgement. You're not like some of the other Firsts, intentionally passing missions because you don't feel like doing them."

Inwardly, Sephiroth drew up a list of names that matched that profile and fought back a snicker.

"However…" resumed Lazard and set aside his coffee.

Sephiroth frowned at the mention of 'however'.

"I do think this organization would thrive better if its top SOLDIER interacted more with his fellow men."

Sighing, Sephiroth stopped short of rolling his eyes and blurted, "With all due respect, Director, you have Hewley for that. He is more than sufficient in boosting company morale."

"Indeed, he is. But Hewley is already burdened by his own assignments, on top of providing guidance to the men." Lazard readjusted his glasses and stared directly at his subordinate. "Now that Hewley has expressed an interest in taking on an apprentice, it's only fair I give him the time and availability to pursue that goal – which means Genesis and you are going to have to pick up the slack."

"I'm not Hewley," Sephiroth reminded the Director, "His actions are driven by principles he holds strong to, not out of Company obligations. While I commend Hewley for that, those aren't principles I prioritize. Ensuring the success of our missions is my priority. Guiding men through their woes and trials goes beyond me. We have counselors for that."

"I don't expect you to be Hewley, Sephiroth. But your expertise in other matters, such as analytical study, could be applied in this situation."

The First-Class SOLDIER kept his arms crossed. "And what, exactly, does that entail?"

Lazard shifted forward in his seat and placed both palms on the desk. "You could pinpoint which areas need work on. If these boys are falling short of company expectations, you can create a curriculum that contributes to their success." Lazard noticed the glower Sephiroth made and quickly raised a hand. "If your priority is to ensure the success of a mission then realize the better motivated and trained these boys are, the higher the mission's success rate goes. Even you can recognize that correlation."

Much to Sephiroth's annoyance, he did. The Director's logic proved sound. It still didn't ease his nerves though. Rousing up the men with motivational words and advice wasn't his forte. He'd also rather take on an army of Behemoths while blindfolded than sit behind a desk creating a training regime for the lower ranks. When the Director fell silent again, Sephiroth took that as his cue to speak again.

"Am I to assume this will be my assigned task while I'm stationed here?"

Lazard sat back in his seat. With elbows placed on the armrests, his gloved fingers intertwined. "That depends. I will leave it to Hewley to assign you to a task of his choosing. He will determine if he demands your assistance." When the frown on Sephiroth's face returned, he chuckled. "Who knows? Once Hewley takes on his apprentice, he might adjust accordingly and not need you after all. In that case, it will be business as usual for you."

Doubtful of that, Sephiroth refrained from releasing a grunt from his throat. Not a day went by Angeal didn't urge him to intermingle with the other ranks or assist in their training. Each time Sephiroth rejected his offer, the man went on a lengthy lecture about honor and dreams; the sort of nonsense that inspired a headache. Angeal was a man of many principles, Sephiroth learned. And he now possessed the power to dictate the actions of Shinra's most reclusive SOLDIER. Oh, how irony just loved playing with his head, Sephiroth bitterly reminded himself.

"For now," resumed Lazard, "I'm going to assign you to another task."

At this, Sephiroth withdrew from his thoughts and raised his head.

"I want you to gather information on the whereabouts of AVALANCHE's home base."

"AVALANCHE?" Sephiroth paused. Slowly, he recalled with narrowed his eyes, "But the Turks…"

"Yes, I know…" Lazard sighed. "Since President Shinra brought them on board, we're all going to have to watch whose toes we're stepping on. However, letting them do all the investigative work while SOLDIER idly sits by and does nothing isn't what we're known for. Besides, by the time the Turks kick over the rock AVALANCHE is hiding under and bullets begin to fly, we'll be the ones scrapping for leftovers."

"Your orders then, Director?"

"Interrogate persons of interests in the Slums to gather clues. Start with Don Corneo. He's one of our informants so don't go too rough on him if he gives you any funny business."

Sephiroth made a low throaty noise that resembled a growl. As if visiting the flea-infested shithole below the Plate was bad enough, he now had to talk to the underworld's most irritating man alive: Don Corneo. His name, alone, upset the nerves under Sephiroth's skin. Perhaps he would evaluate the training of lower ranks after all… Anything beat being in the same room as that repulsive worm.

"Because I don't want to jeopardize the Turks' own investigation or have AVALANCHE catch whiff of our presence, I'm assigning only you to this task." Lazard began inputting information into the computer next to him. "It goes without saying that you'll need to be discrete during your dealings below. Meanwhile, I'll provide you a list of other potential persons to talk to."

Sephiroth didn't doubt Lazard knew his way around the Slums or its key players. He had learned from Second-Class SOLDIER Kunsel that the Director was born and raised there. It explained a lot. Even when he climbed up the social ladder, Lazard remained a strong advocate for the Slums' children. Half the proceeds from last night's charity auction went to foundations intended to feed, clothe, and educate them. This, alone, had probably given Lazard more contacts than the Turks could ever dream of.

"Will that be all?" Sephiroth inquired, ready to leave. With his official objective finally given, there was no point in staying here any longer.

Lazard's hands froze in place over his keyboard. He stared at the computer's screen. His shoulders sagged when he bobbed his head. "Yes. That will be all, Sephiroth. Thank you. You are excused now."

The First-Class SOLDIER sensed his reluctance to release him; he could hear it in his voice. That became Sephiroth's cue to depart before the atmosphere in the room changed. He rose from his seat and turned, making a straight line for the metal-enforced door.

"Sephiroth…"

Lazard's voice called out to him when he'd reached the halfway point of the office. He stopped. Sephiroth kept his back to Lazard but attentively listened to his next words.

"I know things are complicated between us. It's true I covet many feelings toward you – it's actually frustrating, really." The Director broke into a choked laugh. "Still. None of that matters. Despite the circumstances I'm faced with, my focus remains in fulfilling my priorities here in SOLDIER. Among those priorities is to ensure that each person under my command reaches their true potential."

So far, Lazard's words didn't provoke a response from Sephiroth. The tall silver-haired man continued to stare at the exit. However, he didn't move from his spot either.

"I'm tired of filling out the paper work when a body bag returns to me," Lazard exasperated. "I'm tired of worrying over how many men will not come back because they either lacked the resources or survival skills. I guess what I'm saying is… I can't achieve my mission without your help."

Sephiroth could practically feel his eyes on him.

"You may be the perfect weapon whose sole function is to execute and defend, Sephiroth. You may not be Angeal. But that doesn't mean you don't carry the legacy of SOLDIER within you. No matter where you go, who you are, who you're with, or what you do, you will carry it. I want you to remember that."

Sephiroth tilted his head back. Their eyes briefly met each other's. A lingering silence filled the room. When Lazard said nothing else, Sephiroth looked away. He headed out of his office without a word.

Whether Lazard's words were intended to make him rethink his role in SOLDIER or his priorities, Sephiroth insisted to himself that it did not matter. It wasn't his problem. Thus, by the afternoon hours, he managed to purge those burning questions out of his mind with pleasurable distractions.

In one of the vacate offices at the Weapon's Development sector, Sephiroth stood at a dark corner with Scarlet. She was pinned to a wall facing him. They kept eye contact. Her skirt hiked up, one long leg was held high for him, offering easier access. Scarlet whispered many tasteless words to him while he repeatedly drove his sturdy length into her. Each thrust produced a soft wet-like sound in the room.

At some point, Lazard's final words echoed at the back of Sephiroth's head, among other things – that woman is a gambit. Daunting questions resurfaced. But by then, he couldn't bring himself to care. It was all irrelevant. Inside Scarlet's warm slick womb, Sephiroth found himself one with the universe. His hips rolled faster; his breath hitched. To him, this was all that mattered.