Alex's performance, broadcasting across all of Midgar, continued: upbeat music and ringing singing poured tirelessly from every speaker, softly enveloping not only the elite Upper City but the impoverished Slums as well. Every resident of Midgar found themselves completely immersed in watching this grand show.
It made no difference whatsoever where the citizens happened to be—whether they were sitting at home, working a shift, or simply out for a daytime stroll—absolutely everyone was enjoying, each in their own way, yet another spectacular concert from Alex. And yet, deep down, the people of Midgar were all asking themselves the same uneasy question: in which of the remaining seven Mako Reactors was this performance unfolding, and which part of the city would be left without electricity tonight?
Everyone already understood perfectly well: the moment Alex finished singing his song, another reactor would go up in the air. Only the Shinra leadership knew for certain that all this madness was happening right now in the Fifth Mako Reactor. But even the all-powerful corporation had no idea that Avalanche's true target was yet another reactor.
And while all the attention of the security forces and the leadership was fixed on the Fifth Reactor, Dean, Tonberry Steve, and Wedge slipped into the Seventh Mako Reactor without any particular trouble, disguised as ordinary workers reporting for their next shift. Having changed into stolen coveralls, Dean carefully hid his Pokémon Steve inside a sports bag and calmly walked out of the locker room together with Wedge.
"Listen, you really came up with a great idea stealing the local workers' clothes… Only this one feels a bit tight on me," Wedge said with an embarrassed look, lightly patting his protruding belly and glancing at Dean, who had pulled the brim of his work hard hat low over his eyes.
"Well, sorry, buddy, they simply didn't have size XXXL in the warehouse. And if it's tight—just unzip the coveralls over your gut and you'll finally be able to breathe properly," Dean replied with a smirk, tossing a construction hard hat straight into Wedge's hands on the move.
"Ugh… Still tight… Hope nobody notices us here," Wedge sighed, unzipping the top of the zipper and struggling to pull the hard hat onto his head.
"Don't piss yourself, man, I've done this a hundred times already! And it always worked perfectly. So, where do we go next? I don't remember the layout of this place at all," Dean answered with a confident smirk, actively looking around the long gray corridor.
"Jessie said the layout of all the reactors is practically identical… So I think we need to go that way," Wedge said in a thoughtful tone, confidently pointing a finger toward the right-hand corridor.
"Let's hope you're thinking in the right direction. And now—Allons-y!" Dean exclaimed with an eager grin, decisively stepping forward down the corridor.
Walking along the corridor, Dean slipped into the role of a simple worker who had simply shown up for an ordinary shift without the slightest difficulty. And he didn't stand out at all among the people passing by, who gave him slight nods of greeting. The same could definitely not be said for Wedge, who kept getting nervous every time they met another group of employees driving past and transporting giant tanks of liquid Mako on a forklift.
Moving unhurriedly across the plant grounds, Dean slightly lowered the brim of his hard hat whenever they passed Grunt patrols, while Wedge immediately tried his hardest to straighten up so as not to attract any unnecessary attention by accident. Having reached the main complex of the plant, Dean and Wedge stopped in front of massive locked doors that required a special keycard to open.
Leaning over the terminal, Wedge tried to figure out exactly what kind of access this system needed. He sincerely believed he would be able to hack the terminal quickly, just the way Biggs did it. Wedge counted on everything going smoothly and simply, the way Biggs himself had described, but after a couple of clumsy attempts the screen generated yet another irritating error.
Watching these struggles, Dean heaved a heavy sigh and carefully pushed Wedge aside with his shoulder. Pulling his phone from inside the work coveralls, Dean simply held it up to the electronic scanner—and the doors immediately slid open with a quiet hiss.
"You'll learn how to hack locks later… For now let's find the control room where we can trigger the emergency alarm," Dean said with a smirk, lightly waving the phone in the air and walking through the opened metal doors first.
"You never said your PHS could hack locks too… Where did you two even get a PHS like that?" Wedge said with genuine surprise, following Dean and showing undisguised interest in his gadget.
"Ah, this thing… Well, Alex made it. As for exactly how he made it—I have no idea. He was explaining something about some smart crap, but I didn't understand a damn thing. All I know is you can open any locks with it and watch funny videos. And that's more than enough for me," Dean answered with a smirk, tucking the PHS into an inner pocket of the work coveralls.
"Cool… Now I get why Biggs was so upset about that," Wedge said with a chuckle, quickly catching up to Dean and falling into step beside him.
Having entered a new section of the Shinra plant, Dean and Wedge began encountering fewer and fewer workers who were routinely going about their usual business. Passing through the giant Mako distillation workshop, Dean and Wedge stopped for a while to watch the technological process.
They saw how enormous metal tanks continuously rolled along incredibly wide conveyor belts, filling to the brim with processed liquid Mako. Observing the entire process from the height of the upper balcony, Dean caught himself thinking that he had somehow ended up at some familiar oil refinery. And at the same time he felt a deep, burning disgust at what he was seeing.
He knew perfectly well that so-called Mako was the true lifeblood of the planet, which he himself was also capable of hearing. And being someone who had already saved his own home world more than once, Dean felt strong irritation at the way the people of Gaia so stubbornly and purposefully destroyed their own home.
He was well aware that beyond the walls of Midgar, for many miles around, stretched only a vast, barren desert where nothing grew at all. Wedge, for his part, stared at this endless Mako conveyor with eyes wide open in amazement. He could never have imagined that everything here would turn out so colossal and large-scale.
The sight of hundreds of barrels filling with tons of liquid energy in a single run stirred extremely heavy, unpleasant feelings inside him. And while the two of them silently watched everything happening below, two Grunts who had been patrolling this workshop walked out onto the balcony from the other side of the span with a calm gait. Noticing two unfamiliar employees by the railing, the Grunts briefly exchanged glances and immediately approached decisively, keeping their weapons ready.
"Who are you? And what are you doing here?" one of the Grunts asked in a rough, sharp tone, leveling the barrel of his assault rifle straight at Dean's back.
Hearing the rough shout right behind his back, Wedge instantly tensed—especially when the dry clicking sound of a chamber being racked followed clearly. Swallowing hard, Wedge slowly turned his head and saw two Grunts standing literally two steps away from him and Dean. Dean himself completely carelessly adjusted his construction hard hat, put on the friendliest smile, and unhurriedly turned around, looking at the guards without the slightest hint of panic.
In that same second a highly plausible lie about exactly what they were doing here surfaced in his head—the perfect cover story to continue the infiltration without extra noise. The Grunts, on the other hand, frowned almost imperceptibly under their sealed helmets, clearly registering how strongly Wedge had begun to get nervous.
"I'll ask one more time: what the hell are you doing in this workshop?" the Grunt repeated just as roughly, continuing to keep Dean in his sights while the second guard aimed steadily at Wedge.
"Here's the thing, guys… We were sent to deliver some necessary tools straight to workshop 'C'. So we just got a little distracted looking at the production on the way," Dean answered in an absolutely calm, everyday tone, generating on the fly whatever nonsense came into his head.
"Open the bag and show those tools! Because of the last terrorist attack every single employee has to go through a thorough inspection," the Grunt cut him off, demandingly waving the barrel of his assault rifle toward the sports bag hanging from Dean's shoulder.
"Yeah-yeah, we understand… That Avalanche are real assholes! My neighbor even lost his job because of these bombings… What bastards," Dean said sympathetically, putting on a sincerely irritated face and slowly reaching for the zipper of the sports bag.
"Fewer words! Open the bag! Immediately!" the Grunt ordered in a barking tone, jabbing the barrel of the assault rifle toward Dean.
Giving the Grunt a dry, indifferent look, Dean carelessly shrugged and began slowly unzipping his sports bag. The Grunt who had demanded that Dean show the contents watched every one of his movements intently, never taking his eyes off Dean for a moment. After all, they had received the strictest order from headquarters itself: to thoroughly check absolutely every suspicious worker at the plant—even in cases where a scheduled inspection of belongings had already been carried out.
The second Grunt, for his part, never took his sharp gaze off the twitchy Wedge, down whose paling face large drops of sweat were rolling. Seeing a bead of sweat roll down the cheek of the panicking Wedge, the second Grunt gave a slight snort to himself, mentally filing the man under the category of especially cowardly newcomers who had only just started working at this giant plant.
And at the very moment that thought flashed through his head, one key circumstance suddenly dawned on the guard: there had never been any workshop "C" at this plant. And as soon as that simple truth reached him, he immediately stepped back and instantly swung the barrel of his assault rifle straight into Wedge's face.
"There is no workshop 'C' at this plant! Who the hell are you?!" the second Grunt barked loudly, staring intently at Wedge and Dean.
The moment the second Grunt's shout rang out, the first guard immediately panicked and stepped back, aiming the barrel of his assault rifle straight into Dean's face, loudly demanding immediate answers and threatening to open fire to kill if otherwise. But instead of any justifications, Dean, still wearing the same carefree expression, calmly opened his sports bag wide.
And the moment he did so, a cute green face with bright yellow eyes peeked out curiously from the bag, a tasty piece of dried meat sticking out of its mouth. The moment Steve appeared, both Grunts froze in place with animal fear on their faces. They instantly recognized this creature and would never have been able to forget it.
After all, at every Shinra briefing all the commanders repeated clearly: if anyone encountered a Tonberry while on patrol, they were to drop everything immediately, run fast, and call in heavy reinforcements. Both Grunts clearly felt their hearts begin to pound madly in their chests. They simply could not wrap their heads around what the hell a living and dangerous Tonberry was doing in an ordinary work bag!
Steve himself, with his usual slightly bored expression, began slowly raising a tiny paw, which caused an even greater fit of wild panic in the two guards. And when Steve finally stretched out his paw, it held nothing more than a nearly empty pack of dried meat. Blinking slightly, Steve looked sadly at the packaging of his snacks and slowly put it back into the bag.
At that same instant both Grunts took off with wild screams, running full tilt toward the doors on the other side of the balcony and thinking only about how to save their own lives. And while the security was panicking and fleeing, Steve unhurriedly pulled out his signature oil lamp and directed its light at the two running soldiers. The Grunts managed only a few desperate steps before a dense purple fog closed around them in a tight ring, completely paralyzing their bodies.
Realizing that they were no longer able to move or even cry out a word, the Grunts began mentally saying goodbye to life. Quietly chuckling at the frozen, panicked faces of the two Grunts, Dean gently patted Steve on the head and cracked his neck slightly, preparing to let off steam. Walking up to the paralyzed security, Dean, without any extra words, kicked the first one hard in the chest with a full swing, sending him into a long flight.
Having sent one Grunt whistling toward the metal wall, Dean immediately spun nimbly and delivered an excellent, juicy uppercut straight to the second Grunt's chin. Wedge, who had been watching this instantaneous takedown from the side, breathed a sigh of relief and mentally promised himself that after this mission he would definitely buy Steve more of the best dried meat.
"Damn, what kind of idiotic plant is this where there's never been a workshop 'C'?! It should be everywhere, isn't that logical? Workshops 'A', 'B', 'C'… That's how it's set up absolutely everywhere!" Dean vented in an irritated tone, lightly kicking the unconscious Grunt's head with the toe of his boot.
"You're telling me… We were really lucky Steve was with us. Otherwise our entire stealth plan would have failed spectacularly," Wedge said with a sigh, trying to pull himself together after such a tense situation.
"Ha! I always have a good backup plan ready for a case like this," Dean answered with a confident smirk, affectionately rubbing the Tonberry's face with his palm.
"And what plan did we have for this case?" Wedge asked with curiosity, knowing perfectly well that their current scenario had been improvised literally a couple of hours before heading out.
"Stage a total rampage and act strictly according to the situation! And now stop standing there like a statue, help me quickly hide these two curious idiots. You take the second one, and I'll drag this one," Dean ordered with a smirk, confidently grabbing the unconscious Grunt by the leg and pointing Wedge toward the second soldier who had been spectacularly slammed into the wall.
Having hidden the two unconscious Grunts and thoroughly searched their pockets beforehand for the needed keycard, Dean and Wedge began advancing further toward the security post. Using the keycard that the knocked-out guard had unwillingly handed over, Dean and Wedge entered a special technical corridor, access to which was available only to a certain category of repairmen.
This technical corridor was literally filled with dozens of thick main pipes through which liquid Mako flowed with a quiet hum, heading straight to the conveyor below in the workshop. Having walked along this technical span and met no one on their way, Dean and Wedge climbed a metal ladder upward. Stopping at locked doors, Dean nevertheless decided to look at the complex map on his phone in order to finally understand where they even were.
Because it was already starting to seem to him that they would be wandering these endless corridors and workshops for a long time yet before they found the security room. Pulling the phone from inside his coveralls, Dean opened the complex map and immediately realized with annoyance that he understood absolutely nothing about these diagrams.
"What the hell did they build such complicated complexes for?! Where the hell are we even located?" Dean vented in an irritated tone, fruitlessly trying to make out anything on the screen.
"We're currently in the technical corridor of section G-6," Wedge said calmly, patting Dean on the shoulder.
"How did you figure that out?" Dean asked, looking at Wedge with genuine surprise and thinking that the other had somehow miraculously managed to decipher this tangled map.
"It's written on the wall… Look, right there: 'Technical Corridor of Section G-6'," Wedge answered in a cheerful tone, pointing a finger at the clear stenciled inscription on the concrete.
"Mmm… Cool. And we need section F-7. Here, look," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes and showing Wedge the screen of his phone.
"So we're really close! It's located literally right above us. We just need to find the service elevator," Wedge said, squinting and jabbing a finger at the map.
"Oh yeah! So we need the service elevator… And it's located in section G-5 and leads to section F-4… What a bitch! What bastard even designed this plant?! I'm definitely shoving a boot up his ass!" Dean barked with even greater irritation and kicked the nearest metal pipe with a juicy clang.
"And from section F-4 we get to section H-5, and from there already to section F-7. Look, it's all really close!" Wedge explained enthusiastically, pointing with his finger at the supposed route.
"Just shut up before I hit you… To hell with this entire maze! We're taking the fastest way," Dean cut him off in an irritated tone, raising his gaze to the ceiling.
"And what way is that?" Wedge asked in an embarrassed tone, stepping slightly back from the irritated Dean.
"Through the damn ventilation… Fuck, how I hate ventilations!" Dean muttered, starting to climb quickly up a technical stepladder onto the upper platform.
Having climbed onto the metal platform right above the main pipes, Dean looked with genuine irritation at the narrow ventilation shaft. Thinking about the fact that he would once again have to crawl through similar dusty places, Dean only heaved a heavy and irritated sigh, after which with one habitual motion he ripped out the ventilation grate together with a decent chunk of concrete.
Pulling his Tonberry Steve out of the sports bag, Dean carefully set him on the metal platform and gently pushed him toward the opening, considering that the little pot-bellied creature would make an excellent living flashlight in the completely dark shaft. As soon as Wedge climbed up with difficulty, Dean immediately crawled into the ventilation and began moving after Steve, who was slowly walking forward, lighting their way with his oil lamp.
The longer Dean crawled through the narrow pipe, the stronger his inner irritation grew—and not only because of the turtle-like speed of their progress, but from the very fact that he once again had to deal with this nonsense. In those minutes Dean thought only about how he should have refused this idiotic stealth plan in time, abandoned the idea of doing everything quietly, and, just like last time, simply stormed in through the main entrance with a fight.
And yet, after a couple of minutes of crawling through the ventilation shaft, Dean and Wedge reached a place where the channel abruptly went vertically upward. Seeing the long-awaited internal ladder, Dean carefully seated Steve on his shoulders and began climbing confidently up the metal rungs. Having climbed to the upper tier and continued crawling further, Dean finally spotted ahead the long-awaited light breaking through the lower grate.
Crawling closer to the hatch, Dean carefully looked down and saw the security post, in which about ten Grunts were lazily watching the feeds from numerous surveillance cameras. Realizing that they had finally reached the needed place, Dean sincerely snorted, feeling enormous satisfaction from the mere thought that he would no longer have to crawl through this damn ventilation.
"There are about ten Grunts down there. I'll go down first and take care of everything, and you wait for me here for now," Dean whispered, turning his head back when Wedge crawled up close.
"Be careful," Wedge nodded understandingly, encouragingly raising a thumbs-up.
Nodding his head, Dean crawled a little further along the shaft and immediately knocked out the ventilation grate with one powerful blow. The heavy metal structure fell with a dull crash straight onto the head of one of the Grunts, who instantly lost consciousness from such an unexpected blow to the crown. The remaining Grunts reacted lightning-fast: grabbing their assault rifles, they all at once aimed the barrels at the breached ventilation shaft.
At that same instant Dean easily jumped out of the shaft, landing with a satisfied white-toothed smile right on the work table—neatly next to the head of the knocked-out Grunt. Seeing the weapons aimed at him, Dean completely calmly raised his hands above his head, continuing to smile widely. The Grunts, for their part, frowned heavily under their helmets, looking in bewilderment at the stranger in a worker's coveralls who had so suddenly fallen right out of the ventilation.
"Keep your hands in sight immediately! And answer, who the hell are you?!" one of the Grunts shouted loudly, carefully approaching Dean with the barrel ready.
"I was just passing by… And if you lower your weapons, I'll show you a great trick!" Dean answered with a cheerful smile, unhurriedly looking over the Grunts who were slowly closing the ring around him.
"Don't move! And keep holding your hands above your head!" another Grunt barked, having come practically right up to the table.
"Whatever you say, buddy… Only I don't need to lower my hands at all to show this trick," Dean answered with a cocky smirk, barely noticeably twitching his wrist.
The moment Dean's cocky words rang out, the Grunts instantly racked the bolts of their assault rifles, preparing to open fire to kill at any moment. Dean himself was not the least bit worried about the fact that a dozen barrels were aimed at him—in his current state he himself didn't really know what could even hurt him. But what he was absolutely certain of one hundred percent was that ordinary lead bullets would simply bounce uselessly off his body.
While Dean continued standing completely motionless, the Grunts briefly exchanged glances and with quick gestures showed each other that the intruder needed to be detained immediately. Two of the guards began slowly approaching Dean, but the moment they took literally one step they noticed that the tips of his fingers had darkened slightly and thick black fog had begun pouring from them in clouds.
None of the Grunts even managed to raise their weapons and pull the trigger before a sharp snap of fingers rang out in the silence of the security room. At that same instant absolutely all the Grunts flew in a huge wave in different directions and crashed into the concrete walls with a deafening roar, instantly losing consciousness. Having knocked out the entire ten guards at once, Dean lowered his hands with a satisfied smirk and lightly blew on his fingers still covered in Darkness, as if on the smoking barrel of a discharged pistol.
"Now I understand perfectly why everyone likes snapping their fingers so much… It's damn convenient!" Dean said with a laugh, nimbly jumping down from the table and making a joking pistol gesture with his fingers.
"I'm sincerely surprised you didn't do that from the very beginning," Amara's calm, velvety voice suddenly sounded right in Dean's head.
"That's completely different… And anyway, aren't you busy restoring our Universe right now?" Dean answered, clearing his throat dryly and trying to quickly change the subject.
"I've almost finished… I just had a couple of free moments to take a look at what you're doing here… Eco-terrorist Dean Winchester—that's just really funny," Amara answered in a cheerful, ironic tone, sincerely chuckling at Dean's current status.
"And I'm, by the way, even a little offended," Dean said with a heavy sigh, wearily rubbing his eyes.
"Your problem… All right, we'll talk more later," Amara said in a soft tone, gradually fading in Dean's consciousness.
Chuckling at Amara's last words, Dean slightly shook his head with a warm smile on his face. He had been in this new world for almost a week and in all that time had never once left the limits of enormous Midgar. But from Alex's numerous stories Dean had already managed to understand that the planet Gaia was an incredibly beautiful and picturesque place.
And knowing that in the very near future they would have to leave Midgar behind anyway, Dean was sincerely pleased: he had always liked being on the endless road, moving from one city to another, just like in his past. The only thing he truly regretted at that moment was that Sam was not beside them, who could have habitually grumbled once more somewhere in the background.
Slightly chuckling at his thoughts, Dean picked up from the floor a metal screw from the knocked-out ventilation grate and tossed it sonorously back into the pipe to give Wedge a signal. Wedge himself at that very moment was playing intense staring contest with all his might with Steve, who was silently staring at him with his unblinking yellow eyes while appetizingly chewing another piece of dried meat. And as soon as a sonorous metallic click rang out in the pipe, followed by Dean's restrained click, Steve slowly blinked, turned away from the pale Wedge, and unhurriedly walked on his short paws toward the opening.
As soon as Steve jumped down onto the table, Wedge breathed a sigh of relief and wiped a drop of sweat from his forehead. Even knowing perfectly well that Steve was currently completely not dangerous, Wedge was in no way eager to remain one-on-one with a Tonberry in a narrow space. Climbing out of the ventilation shaft after the little pot-bellied creature, Wedge tried to jump down as carefully as possible.
But in the end he still clumsily stumbled and crashed off the table, falling flat right onto the half-forgotten parquet. Rubbing his bruised side, Wedge rose to his feet with a sigh and looked around. Scattered Grunts lay picturesquely around him, practically embedded dead into the concrete walls.
And while Wedge examined the consequences of the quiet takedown with an open mouth, Dean had already carefully seated Steve on the main control terminal and himself sat down proprietarily in the chair—sincerely considering that operating the local surveillance systems was in no way fundamentally different from what he had encountered before. And indeed, after a couple of confident key presses Dean realized that the interface worked exactly the same as on ordinary computers.
"Maybe we should try to find the girls through the monitors? What if they need help right now?" Wedge asked, worriedly leaning on the back of the chair Dean was sitting in.
"Hmm… I can try. But there's a damn ton of cameras here! It feels like these Shinra idiots shoved lenses in every couple of meters," Dean said with a smirk, starting to quickly switch the feeds on the main screen.
"There they are! Back, switch back! I just saw Jessie!" Wedge suddenly exclaimed and immediately jabbed a finger at the central monitor the moment he noticed a familiar silhouette.
"Ha-ha-ha! Well that's it, looks like somebody is officially having the unluckiest day of their life… I don't even sincerely envy these poor bastards!" Dean laughed loudly the moment he switched the image to the camera of the lower tier of the plant.
Seeing what heat was going on with Aerith, Jessie, and Yuffie on the lower tier of the complex, Dean enthusiastically put this feed on the largest wide screen and luxuriously threw his legs right onto the control panel. For him a spectacle like this had always been the best entertainment in the world. The only thing Dean sincerely regretted at that moment was that he hadn't brought a bucket of popcorn with him for such a perfect occasion.
Even Wedge literally opened his mouth in shock and silently sat down on the nearest free chair, staring fixedly at the monitor. At that very time on the lower level of the plant Aerith, Yuffie, and Jessie were fully dealing with a squad of Grunts who in their stupidity had accidentally noticed them. Yuffie with incredible agility dodged whistling bullets, knocking one Grunt after another off their feet on the fly.
Having defeated the next opponent, Yuffie sharply rolled aside, avoiding a dense automatic burst, and forcefully threw her giant shuriken, which seemed to fly past the target. Seeing that the deadly weapon whistled to the side, the Grunt only chuckled mockingly and was already about to aim his assault rifle at Yuffie. But Yuffie in that same instant literally vanished into the air and instantly appeared right behind the stunned soldier's back, delivering a sharp spinning kick exactly to the back of his head.
Having received a crushing impulse to the head, the Grunt tumbled aside and additionally crashed face-first into the metal wall with a roar. Jessie, meanwhile, cheerfully threw trophy electric grenades recently stolen from the Shinra armory. The next grenade she threw rolled with a ringing clatter across the metal and stopped exactly in the center of a group of Grunts hiding behind a massive metal container.
Seeing the sparking surprise at their feet, the guards only managed to cry out in fright before a powerful electrical discharge struck them all simultaneously. Having used another spell to create a shimmering barrier, Aerith suddenly heard quiet hurried footsteps behind her back. Sharply turning around, she swung her magic staff in a wide arc.
The Grunt who had counted on quietly taking Aerith hostage only managed to see the round metal tip approaching his face at enormous speed. And already in the next instant followed a dull, blinding pain when the metal knob crashed crushing into the bridge of his nose. Having floored the guard with one precise blow, Aerith without pause began beating him with her staff.
"Don't you know at all that you can't sneak up so brazenly on girls?! And especially try to take them prisoner!" Aerith said in an incredibly sweet and gentle tone, delivering another ringing blow to the Grunt's protective coveralls.
"I won't do it anymore! Please, just stop hitting me! You broke my nose!" the Grunt cried out muffledly, panickedly covering his bloodied head with his hands.
"Really?" Aerith asked in an embarrassed tone, slightly tilting her head to the side and looking at the lying soldier with sincere interest.
"Really! Look, blood is flowing all over!" the Grunt sobbed, for a second removing his hands from his face and showing his broken nose and bloodied chin.
"Well… That'll heal quickly! And anyway, you really shouldn't have taken your hands away. Because a concussion takes a long time to treat," Aerith said with an incredibly angelic and sweet smile, gripping her metal staff tighter and cheerfully rocking her head from side to side.
The Grunt's eyes instantly widened in wild shock. He would never in his life have thought he would meet a girl who with an angelic smile and an incredibly sweet tone would completely calmly talk about the fact that he was about to receive a severe concussion right now. And before he managed to cover his head with his hands again to protect himself from the next crushing blow, Aerith laughed sweetly and again raised her metal magic staff.
Seeing the carved tip rapidly approaching, the Grunt simply could not bear this horror and immediately blacked out, leaving bloody foam on his lips. Having managed to stop the staff at the very last moment right in front of the nose of the knocked-out soldier, Aerith slightly tilted her head to the side. Realizing that she had defeated the enemy alone and without a single scratch, Aerith furtively looked around to make sure Jessie or Yuffie were not nearby.
Having made sure there was no one nearby, Aerith with the most tender smile pulled a snow-white handkerchief from her pocket, carefully and thoroughly wiped the blood from her magic staff, and then carefully covered the face of the lying Grunt with this bloodied handkerchief. Quickly erasing all visible traces of her small "crime," Aerith immediately stepped a couple of steps back so that the poor guy's condition could in no way be linked to her.
After all, she still needed to strictly adhere to her sweet, innocent image—only that way could she continue to play the role of a fragile girl who desperately needed Alex's protection and care. Quietly chuckling into her fist at her clever plan, Aerith headed with quick, light steps toward Jessie and Yuffie, who by this moment had already finished dealing with the remaining Grunts.
To be continued...
(I just thought I should show the situation with the second group, and how simple everything is for them. After all, Shinra's attention is focused on Alex and the others. Although, I'd previously wanted to show that Din can still talk to Amara, even if they're in other universes, but I never found the right moment. So, what else... Hmm. Aerith is still a cutie, even when she beats someone senseless. Hehehe. And now it's time to eat and rest. Peace, love, and Allons-y!)
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