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Chapter Text

Genesis swept into Sephiroth’s tent with all his usual drama.

“Sephiroth! I need any troops you can spare, immediately!” he said. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him. 

“We’re at the north-eastern front — which is to say we’re in the middle of nowhere. I can spare them all, though I’m not sure I should,” he said evenly. “You look like you’re Up To Something.”

“I can hear the capital letters in that,” Genesis sniffed. “That’s just the way my face looks. It’s a blessing and a curse,” he sighed. Sephiroth’s eyebrow twitched. He was feeling distinctly cursed, and not just because of Genesis.

“Fine, consider me baited.” He set his pen down and leaned back in his chair, the battered metal creaking ominously under his weight. “What do you need the troops for, Genesis?” 

“Procurement mission,” Genesis said smoothly. He dropped onto Sephiroth’s cot, making himself quite at home. He reached into his coat to withdraw a missive from some hidden pocket and flicked it open. “Lazard says Shinra wants something from some cave.” He waved the letter around and Sephiroth caught a glimpse of Lazard’s letterhead. 

“Why can’t your troops handle it?” Genesis commanded a battalion of nearly a thousand SOLDIERs, infantry, medics, and machinery from the Advanced Weaponry Division. Genesis’ immaculate brows pinched together and his mouth twisted in a scowl. 

“I was going to send some of my specialists, but that incompetent toad Palmer apparently commandeered them to test heat against some new synthetic alloy,” he huffed. “What if I had needed them for, oh, I don’t know, the war we’re fighting?”

“What’s the something in the cave that renders the other eight hundred or so men incapable of carrying out this task?” Sephiroth drawled. Genesis pouted at him.

“Sephiroth! Do you really think I’d stoop so low as to ask you if I had any other choice?” he grumbled.

He… had a point. Sephiroth would be able to lord this over Genesis’ head at least for the rest of the war, and since Genesis actually had applied for Lordship in various regions of the world, he wasn’t a fan of things being lorded over him. Sephiroth steepled his fingers.

“You’ll owe me, of course,” he said, which was as good as a seal of approval. Genesis’ face split into a grin and he flew off the cot and into Sephiroth’s lap, planting a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. Sephiroth shoved him off, but Genesis just twisted on his feet, remaining upright with all the agility of a cat. 

“Of course I’ll owe you, darling, you know I’ll always come through for you,” he cooed, looking terribly pleased with himself.

“You’re more likely to run me through than come through for me, but fine.” Sephiroth waved a hand. He didn’t miss the fact that Genesis had deflected when asked exactly what he was supposed to be procuring, but the prospect of Genesis owing him a favour had been like a Chocobo Lure materia. If Sephiroth had been a chocobo. “This had better be worth it.” Genesis tilted his head adorably, and then the most unsettling smile Sephiroth had ever seen crept across his face.

“Oh, it’s going to be worth everything. I can feel it.”

Sephiroth blinked after his friend as he breezed right back out of the tent. 

He had the intrusive, unbidden thought that the aftermath of a trip to see Hojo would be easier to deal with than whatever the hell Genesis was planning. 

By the time Sephiroth tracked down Zack, Genesis was gone, as were twenty of his men. Zack was methodically gluing molted chocobo feathers onto a Sweeper and had half of one leg completely covered. 

“Did you happen to see who Genesis took with him?” he asked. He plucked a chocobo feather out of Zack’s black spikes.

“Mhm,” Zack mumbled. He rattled off twenty names without hesitation, as if he knew each of them personally. He probably did. Sephiroth furrowed his brow.

“But they all suck,” he said bluntly. Zack looked up at him with wide, wounded eyes. Sephiroth sighed. “They’re inexperienced,” he amended. That seemed to settle Zack, and he nodded in satisfaction and went back to gluing the feathers to metal. Sephiroth poked the feather back into Zack’s hair. “I know for a fact that Hawson’s only been with the battalion for three weeks. I don’t think he’s showered yet.”

“Have you seen the tanks they store the shower water in? The rust on the inside turned the water orange and it smells like needles,” Zack snorted. 

“I never noticed anything amiss,” Sephiroth mused, glancing back toward the showers. Okay, so maybe the orange steam rising from it and the wet coughing drifting from the vicinity wasn’t exactly normal. He’d have to requisition a new water tank. “Though perhaps I’ve been a bit busy…”

“I think we’re just conditioned to smell syringes and check out,” Zack hummed. Sephiroth bit back a grimace. “Do you think Genesis plans to drive out whatever’s in the cave with the scent of unwashed privates?” He paused. “Literally.”

“The President tried that at the beginning of the war. The casualties on our side were enough for the investors to withdraw their support so they sent camouflaged dog groomers in for damage control.”

“Is that why Midgar smelled like a wet dog for two months back in ‘92?” 

“The investors wouldn’t consider donating again until something was done about the scent, so the President decided we had to go south and bring up a flock of Tonadu. We tethered them above the city for a week so they could blow the stench out.”

“And that worked?”

“No,” Sephiroth sighed. “The odour dissipated on its own, the Tonadu shit all over the place and ate the triple crown winning chocobo, Bartholomew, and President Shinra was praised for his eco-friendly solutions.”

Zack shifted around on the ground so that he was wedged under the Sweeper and applied a generous amount of glue to the other side of the leg. “That tracks.” He carefully began to stick the feathers into the glue. “You think Gen’s trying something similar?” Sephiroth snorted.

“I doubt it. He led the party that collected the Tonadu while I brought the groomers back to the city so they could take care of the dogs. When I saw him again, he was wearing a plague doctor mask stuffed with synthetic flower petals.”

“So what do you think his MO is, then?” Zack asked. 

“Beats the hell out of me. Why does Genesis ever do what he does?” Sephiroth countered. It was a rhetorical question, but Zack paused what he was doing and stared up at Sephiroth with a look that gradually went from ‘why are you asking me?’ to ‘oh sweet mother of Shiva'. 

Sephiroth arrived at the relatives of deities around the same time, and they spoke their fearful conclusion all at once. 

“Loveless.”

—

When Sephiroth finally tracked Genesis down three days later, he was lounging in his palatial six-room tent in the centre of his encampment in a floor length robe of red silk. He looked terribly smug as he lounged on a divan, a book propped open in his lap. 

“What did you do, Genesis?” Sephiroth asked wearily. Genesis blinked innocently. 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“That procurement mission —”

“Oh, that. It went splendidly. They were very satisfied with my offer and the transaction was completed to the benefit of all parties,” Genesis said. “You're terribly kind to ask.”

“Where are my — transaction? Did you barter with cave people? Did you trade my troops to cave people?” 

Sephiroth was going to develop a twitch.

“Oh calm down, you're going to develop a twitch,” Genesis said dismissively. Sephiroth twitched again. “I didn't give your troops to cave people. Honestly, what would cave people have that I'd want?” he huffed. “They're fine.”

Sephiroth felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Perhaps he'd been wrong; Genesis was a decorated commander, after all. His battalion trusted him without question, and he upheld a remarkable survival rate in combat. He was a SOLDIER, and a charismatic and pragmatic leader. 

“I traded them to a book collector for his eight hundred year old copy of Loveless and his glass blown figurines of the Three Friends.” Genesis gestured to a nearby shelf, where three delicate little statues were displayed in their own glass domes. “He assured me he would treat them with the utmost care.”

Distantly and somewhat muted, Sephiroth heard a sharp snap. 

“Oh dear, your forehead has spontaneously bruised. You're under far too much pressure if your veins are bursting unprovoked,” Genesis crooned. He stood up and took Sephiroth by the hand, leading him over to the divan and pressing him down into it. He settled behind him and brushed thick silver hair out of the way as he began to knead at his shoulders. “You know what always soothes my troubled mind? Some poetry.”

A thousand miles away, Aerith Gainsborough winced in sympathy as the agonized shrieking of the Planet pierced her skull. She knelt down and pressed her palm to the dirt and promised to plant some new flowers that evening. 

Chapter Text

Dear Diary,

It’s me again, Commander Zack Fair, SOLDIER First Class. I know it hasn’t been all that long since I’ve written, but so much has happened! I don’t even know where to start! Deep breaths, Zack. Okay.

So, you know about the war, right? We’re fighting Wutai, which is like, a total drag. It’s taking FOR-EV-ER! I don’t see why they can’t just catapult Seph into enemy territory in the middle of the night and let him do his thang. They’d probably just see a streak of glowing green across the sky and think it’s a shooting star or some materia geyser or whatever and then BAM! Sword in the FACE! 

At least I get to live out my dream - I’m a HERO! Legit, a real hero with fans and at least six troopers who always volunteer to do my laundry for me. There was even a fight over a pair of my gloves last week. I had to break it up, becuz I’m a leader and all that jazz, but it made me feel sooo good about myself. I bet Archie from Intro to Hand-to-Hand doesn’t have anyone fighting for his gloves. Dumb slut.

ANYWAAAYS. My battalion is doing super great! There’s a lot of really cool peeps in it — like, super cool peeps, and they all look up to me. Clark’s got HUGE MUSCLES (I’m still stronger becuz I’m SOLDIER and he’s just in the infantry, but they look SO GOOD) and a really cool tattoo that wiggles when he flexes his arm. And, omg, I watched Daniels field strip her rifle in like, fifteen seconds flat. How cool is that? Seriously, my peeps are the BEST.

Get this — I was sent on a super secret mission recently! I couldn’t even take any of my own peeps with me… they sent a TURK. They tried to tell me it was just a normal mission, but I know better. Turks aren’t sent out on normal missions. They get the ultra top secret scary BADASS MISSIONS. And I GOT TO GO ON ONE!!! I want to tell you all about it, Diary, but I don’t think I should… I might get in trouble for sharing top secret secrets :(

Oh! We got some chocobos in! They’re soooo cute! All fluffy and yellow and soft! We’re going to work extra hard to make sure these don’t get eaten by monsters. I don’t think I could handle seeing Cloud cry again. 

Aside from the Super Top Secret Ultra Cool Spy Mission, I also led a squad into the forest to track down some meanies who were stealing our food. Not cool :(((( We got our food back, made sure the bullies knew what they’d done was VERY WRONG and that they should NEVER STEAL AGAIN, and no one got hurt! Gold star for us! I went to the store and bought some gold star stickers for everyone, becuz I didn’t want to disappoint my peeps, so I guess I gotta get my money back from the Prez for that. 

Omggg I can’t believe I almost forgot! Seph, Gen, Angie, and I all got OFFICIAL SUMMONS. LOL, no — not like a summon materia, silly! (but omg how cool would that be?? Official Zack Fair Summon Materia!) The PRESIDENT wants to meet with us! All of us! I wonder what it’s for? Maybe he’s going to give us all trophies for being badasses 8) ← That’s sunglasses btw, becuz I’m fly af, LOL. 

That’s all for now, Diary! I gotta pack for my trip to see my new BFF — THE PREZ!!!

Love,

Zacky

Sephiroth scanned Zack’s latest report into his computer. He attached the file into an email addressed to Lazard, Heidegger, and President Shinra, but didn’t send it. He stood from his desk and made his way over to the package that had been delivered earlier in the day. It was a small metal box that smelled like tortured children and moral bankruptcy when he opened it. 

Nestled within packing foam was a canister containing the latest of Hojo’s ready-made mako death juice supplements. It glowed blue and made his stomach churn. He lifted the canister from its spongy nest and stuck his head out of his tent. 

“Corporal Schwarz,” he said. The corporal jumped half a foot in the air and spun around at attention, looking equal parts eager and terrified. 

“General, sir!” 

He held up the canister and gave it a little shake. The blue glow intensified disconcertingly. “Tell the company clerk that I’m unavailable for any calls, emails, smoke signals, carrier pigeons, and all other forms of correspondence while I sacrifice my bowels in the name of science.”

“Sir, there is no company clerk,” Schwarz said.

“I explicitly recall having one. He was demoted for trying to sell timeshares for the barracks at the underwater reactor in Junon,” Sephiroth said.

“Yes, sir, but he was dishonourably discharged for successfully selling the personal information of seventy-six troopers on the black market,” Schwarz said. He looked a little crestfallen. “Mine was one of them. I don’t know if my credit will ever bounce back.” Sephiroth frowned.

“Who is in charge of the communications in his absence?” he asked. 

“Corporal Beddington, sir.”

“Dare I even ask what his qualifications are?” Sephiroth asked tiredly. Schwarz brightened.

“We held a contest, sir. He was the first person to fall asleep listening to Commander Rhapsodos recite Loveless.”

Huh.

“Very well. Inform Corporal Beddington that I’m not to be disturbed, no matter what Heidegger threatens to do to his person or his family,” Sephiroth said. Schwarz saluted and marched off to relay his orders. Once the Corporal was out of sight, Sephiroth left his tent and strode out of camp. Upon reaching a nearby stream, he opened the canister and dumped its contents into the water. In a day or two, his troops could fight the mutated fish and crustaceans as a training exercise, and his gastrointestinal tract would be spared whatever brutalities R&D cooked up for him. 

When he arrived back at his tent, he zipped the flaps shut and cast Barrier and Silence for good measure. With a small smile on his face, he sent the email and closed his laptop. He put his PHS on silent and retired to his cot with all the petty satisfaction of being un-fucking-touchable.