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         "I can't believe he did it," Tifa growled, reflexively curling her hands into fists as if she was going to hit the first thing that presented itself, as she paced back and forth in the now empty dining room. "I can't believe he actually did it."

         "There's got to be some other explanation." Cloud knew how fake his words sounded, even to himself. "Maybe he just went out for a little joy ride. Maybe he decided to camp out for the night instead of coming home for the reunion."

         Or maybe he decided to run off and join SOLDIER.

         "Do you think that makes me feel any better?" Tifa exclaimed, as she continued to pace around the room like a caged animal. "The only thing worse than Devin riding out into the wilderness alone and unarmed is Devin SLEEPING out in the wilderness alone and unarmed. You know how dangerous it is out there, Cloud! What if he runs into a pack of monsters? What if he gets mugged? What if ..."

         "Shhhh...," Cloud said softly, as he swept her into his arms and tried to calm her down. For a brief second, she resisted, and then she fell against him and wrapped her arms around her waist with a shuddering sigh.

         "God, Cloud, I hope he's alright." She resting her head on his chest, staring at the wall blankly.

         "He'll be fine," Cloud assured her soothingly, as much to reassure himself as to reassure his wife. "He's on a trained Chocobo, and he won't leave it. Devin may be a pain, but he's not stupid. Even a baby Chocobo is more than fast enough to outrun just about anything out there, and if there's anything Chocobos like to do, it's run. We've been camping before. He knows how to find a secure campsite and start a small fire without attracting the attention of any monsters or other travelers."

         "But why'd he have to do it?" Tifa demanded, pulling away from him despite his best efforts and turning away to start pacing again. "What haven't we given him, Cloud? Have we neglected him in some way? Have we been unfair to him somehow? Haven't we always done everything we can to be there for him, take care of him? Why in the hell does he have to be such a... such a..."

         "Brat?" Cloud hazarded.

         "Pain in the ass," Tifa clarified angrily, and Cloud grimaced. "And of all the days for him to run away..."

         "Actually, he couldn't have chosen a better time," Cloud pointed out softly.

         "What?" Tifa's eyes flashed angrily. "What do you mean, Cloud?"

         "Well...," he began hesitantly, "If he is headed for New Midgar, like Vincent thought, then we know exactly where he's going. And since Cid and his Airship are here, and Cid's returning to New Midgar tomorrow, we can catch a ride with him tomorrow morning and still make it to New Midgar hours before Devin does. If he is planning to join SOLDIER or do something equally stupid, we'll be there in time to stop him."

         "Assuming he gets to New Midgar at all," Tifa pointed out darkly. She shuddered at her own words. "And how do we know he was even going there? He could have been headed anywhere! Rocket Town, North Corel, Costa del Sol..."

         "He doesn't have any reason to go to any of those places," Cloud countered gently. "If there's anything Devin seeks out like the plague, it's adventure, and he won't think that he's going to find it on the beach or in a coal mine. New Midgar is where he's going. He's never been there. It's new, massive, the home of SOLDIER and it has the Gold Saucer smack in its middle to boot."

         "Along with just every panhandler, cutthroat and thief that moved there from Old Midgar," Tifa added darkly. "Not to mention all the down on their luck gamblers who owe Dio plenty of money, and will probably do just about anything to get it. He doesn't have the faintest idea what he's walking into, Cloud."

         "I know." Cloud found himself unable to argue with her. "But the people of New Midgar don't know what's walking into them, either. Hopefully we can find him and bring him back before he can do too much damage."

         Despite herself, Tifa giggled suddenly. "It would be just like him to pull off one of his pranks on those unsuspecting saps, wouldn't it?"

         "All we have to do is follow the trail of spray-paint," Cloud agreed solemnly.

         Anything Tifa would have said in response was cut off as the door to the dining room creaked open, and she spun to face the person who hesitantly entered the room. Of all the people Cloud knew, Tifa Lockhart-Strife was the only one that could make Barret Wallace come into a room on tiptoe.

         Seeing that they were both looking at him impatiently, he abandoned any attempt at stealth and cleared his throat. "He took a Chocobo, all right," Barret informed them. "The pick of tha' litter, too. The Chocobo Warden said Devin gave him a letter signed with your name and took out your Black, Cloud."

         "What?" Cloud exclaimed, unable to believe it. "Woody? He took Woody?"

         "'Fraid so." Barret grimaced.

         The look Tifa was giving him caused him to blanch despite his best attempts not to. "Woody is an S-Class," Cloud said dully.

         "That's right," she acknowledged with a grim nod.

         "S-Class can run. Fast."

         "That's right."

         "We don't have until tomorrow, do we?"

         "That's right."

         Cloud sighed and let his eyes rise to the ceiling in a silent appeal to whatever lay above.

         Why did my son have to be so goddamn smart? He amended that thought after a second. Why did he have to be so smart when it comes to doing things wrong and so goddamn stupid when it comes to doing things right?

         "We need to talk to Cid," Cloud decided immediately.

         "Talk about what?" the object of his assertion asked as he walked into the room with Red in tow. "Let me guess. You want to go back to New Midgar tonight."

         Tifa merely glowered in Cid's direction.

         "No skin off my back," he agreed hastily. "You wanna' go tonight, we'll go tonight. But ain't that jumpin' the gun a bit? If Devin took a Chocobo, he's got at least a day's ride ahead of 'em..."

         "Not if he took a Black," Tifa pointed out. "Which he did. Which means he's going straight over the mountains and straight into New Midgar."

         "Where in tha hell did that kid get a Black?" Cid asked in surprise.

         "One guess." Tifa gave Cloud a dark look.

         Cloud shrugged as Cid glanced at him knowingly. "So I like to take him out every once in awhile and don't want to have him flown in from the Ranch every time I do it. So sue me."

         "If Woody had been at the ranch with Goldie and the rest under the care of a PROPER Chocobo handler instead of some underpaid bum like the one working here, a seventeen year old wouldn't have been able to make off with him at all." She paused. "But that's beside the point. This is Devin's fault, not yours, Cloud. I'm not blaming you. I just want to make sure that everyone realizes how serious this situation is. What time does SOLDIER close it's recruiting office, Cid?"

         "He wants ta' join SOLDIER?" Cid asked in disbelief. "Why in tha hell would he want ta' do that?"

         "What time?" Tifa insisted through gritted teeth.

         "Six," Cid answered hastily. "Six at night. And they don't open till six tomorrow." Seeing Tifa visibly relax at his reply, he breathed a barely noticeable sigh of relief.

         "So he can't have made it to the office before they closed, even if he left before twelve, and we know that he was here at least until one because of that incident with the Rogers boy." Tifa seemed considerably more at ease now that she was sure that her missing son couldn't do anything rash before they arrived to stop him. "So we've got some time."

         "Yeah," Cid agreed heartily.

         "But not much," she amended. "So we leave tonight. As soon as you're ready, Cid."

         "No you don't," a voice cautioned from outside, a voice that Cloud recognized all too easily. The nasal drone and confident tone could only belong to one person that had unrestricted access to the Strife mansion. Stefan Tyrone.

         Of all the times for him to show up and start giving advice...

         "Yes we do, Stefan," Tifa insisted calmly as he walked into the room and glanced guardedly at Red, who caught the look out of the corner of his good eye and bared his teeth in what Cloud assumed was supposed to be some sort of grin. Managing to take his eyes off of Red and giving a glowering Barret a wide berth as he walked past, he approached Tifa with an awkward stride that was somewhere between a walk and a canter.

         "You can't leave tonight." Cloud's aide seemed unflappable. "Did you forget what's happening tomorrow morning?"

         Cloud groaned and slammed the palm of his hand into his forehead with a loud smack. "The Dyson meeting! I forgot about it completely!"

         "Screw Dyson," Tifa spit. "Our son is in danger, Cloud."

         "I know, Tifa, I know." Cloud shook his head gently. "And I know as well that you don't mean that. You know what this meeting tomorrow means for our town."

         Tifa glowered at him, but didn't immediately contradict him. She did know. Nibleheim was thriving, but Cloud had overlooked one minor legal technicality when he had rebuilt his troubled hometown from the ground up. Shinra had once owned the land upon which it rested, true, but during the period when they had been relocating to New Midgar and building their new city, they had needed all the money that they could get. And selling any insignificant chunks of Shinra land to the highest bidder was one of the best ways to make money quick.

         As they had been so rudely reminded a month ago by the sudden visit of a Dyson executive, the land on which Nibleheim rested and the area for approximately twenty miles in all directions belonged to Dyson Corporation. And now Dyson Corp wanted to build a strip mine right in the middle of where Nibleheim currently stood.

         Thanks to what seemed the cruelest trick of fate yet, the one and only time that the Dyson executives had agreed to meet with the representatives of Cloud's quaint little town to discuss an alternative to tearing down Nibleheim was the coming morning at seven o' clock. Chances were it would be involve nothing more complicated than selling the land immediately around the town to Cloud for a very hefty profit, but regardless of how it worked out, both he and Tifa had to be there. The Dyson Corp executive had made it clear that they would only deal if all of the parties involved were present at the negotiations and signing of the contract, and since he and Tifa had signed on as joint owners of Nibleheim when they had decided to rebuild it, that meant both of them had to be there.

         The meeting was scheduled for seven in the morning, and they would have to be at Dyson headquarters over near Utai by 6:30, at the latest. This would give them less than thirty minutes to stake out the pair of SOLDIER recruiting offices that New Midgar sported before they had to leave them unguarded, assuming they did manage to procure some lightning fast means of travel, such as Cid's Airship. And Devin knew where they had to be tomorrow as well as they did, and probably had a pretty good idea how long the meetings would take. Hours. Hours that would pass halfway across the world from where they need to be.

         Devin did pick a good time to run away, after all.

         "We can't let him join up with SOLDIER, Cloud," Tifa insisted plaintively. "I'd rather burn this entire town than let my son get killed in some useless squabble between Shinra and Dyson."

         Tifa's choice of words made Cloud shudder involuntarily, bringing back memories which he hadn't let himself think about in a long while. But she did have a point. As much as Cloud loved Nibleheim, he knew that joining up with the Shinra army right now was like signing your own death warrant. Anyone with even the smallest bit of political savvy could see that a full-scale war between the two rival Corps was going to break out sooner rather than later, and when that happened, the fighting was going to be gritty and ugly. Very ugly.

         If he and Tifa didn't meet with the Dyson execs tomorrow, the town that they had both worked so hard to build would be destroyed, and its people would be thrown out on the street. If they did meet with them, their son would become embroiled in a very nasty situation that, chances were, would result in getting him gruesomely killed.

         AVALANCHE had killed a large number of Shinra soldiers during their campaign to save the Planet, and at the time Cloud really hadn't thought much of it. But, many years afterward, when he had found himself saddled with children of his own, he had sometimes found himself wondering how many of the soldiers that he had killed in his valiant quest to save the Planet and bring down Sephiroth had been young, idealistic boys just like Devin.

         He turned to Tifa slowly, helplessly. "What can we do?" he asked softly.

         The silence that followed that remark was interrupted rudely as the ringing of a PHS unit suddenly filled the room, and Cloud, Tyrone, Cid and Barret all simultaneously reached into their breast pockets. After a second of confused glances and button pushing, Cid spoke.

         "It's mine." He brought the PHS up to his ear. "Highwind. Go."

         Cloud was about to say something else, but the look of utter rage that suddenly sprang onto Cid's face stopped him in his tracks.

         "They did WHAT?" he practically screamed, as the veins in his neck bulged dangerously. His once blond hair, now streaked with gray, was practically standing on end as he shouted into the phone. "All of 'em? They got the entire ship?"

         There was a second of silence as Cid listened to the reply on the other end, and then uttered an almost incoherent cry of rage.

         "I'm comin' in. Highwind out." He pulled the PHS from his ear and slammed it shut with force that looked sufficient to break its delicate inner workings, and then jammed it into his pocket.

         "You want to go to New Midgar, Cloud, you better go right now," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Three of them Dyson Corp airships just shot down the Valiant."

         Barret's jaw dropped in disbelief. "They didn't," he sputtered. "They wouldn't."

         "You need ta' learn to have better taste in friends, Barret," Cid barked angrily as he spun and stalked toward the door. "I'm goin' to my Airship. Anyone who's comin' with me has got five minutes to pack their bags and get their asses out there after me. After that, I'm gone."

         The remaining occupants of the room merely stared at Cid's back in disbelief as he stormed out of the room. "Cain!" he roared up the stairs to his son, who had been working on his laptop since halfway through their rudely interrupted dinner. "Get yer ass down here on the double, or yer stayin' here!"

         "My god," Tifa whispered softly. "It's already started."

         Barret slowly closed his jaw and turned to face them, his eyes haunted. "Dyson and Shinra startin' a shootin' war." He shook his massive head slowly as if he could scarcely believe it, and then his gaze hardened.

         "I've got to get back to North Corel, Cloud." The dangerous rumble in his deep voice left no room for argument. "Marlene may be able to run things for a day or so, but there's no way she'll know what ta' do if any of them bastards, Dyson or Shinra alike, try to come in and do a hostile takeover. And now that they've started shootin' at each other, I ain't got no doubt that one of them is gonna' get it in their fool heads to deprive their rival of one of it's biggest resources. Our coal mines." He scowled angrily. "My people are in danger, Cloud. I gotta' take care of 'em."

         "I know," Cloud answered. "Go, Barret."

         "What you gonna' do about Devin?" Cloud was touched. Even with the host of worries about his daughter and workers that were surely tearing at him, Barret still didn't want to leave until he knew they would be all right. "If you can't go to stop 'em, who can?"

         "That seems simple enough," Red commented loudly, surprising everyone still remaining in the room. He was sometimes so quiet that it was easy to forget that he was even there. "I will go to New Midgar with Cid. Aeris will accompany me. The two of us should be sufficient to put a stop to Devin's foolhardy crusade."

         Tifa stared at him as if he had suddenly grown wings and started talking in tongues. "But Red, your students..."

         "Can pursue independent study for all of tomorrow, and this entire week in need be," Red purred confidently. "A few days of missed lessons is nothing to me in comparison to the future of your son, Tifa. I will go. And I will stay until we bring him back."

         Tifa looked at Red with a trace of something in her eyes that Cloud hadn't seen her show in a long time. Without warning, she dashed over to where Red stood and threw her arms around him, scratching him behind the ear just where he liked it best, which caused him to let out a contented mixture of a sigh and a purr. Looking at Tifa crouching there with Red, so vulnerable and yet so strong, Cloud found himself remembering suddenly why he loved her so much.

         "That does seem the most feasible route to follow," the nasal voice of Stefan Tyrone agreed calmly, shattering the heart- wrenchingly emotional mood that had momentarily overtaken the room like a bowling ball through a stain glass window. Tifa immediately straightened and glanced around self-consciously, suppressing a furious blush.

         "Red and Aeris will go," she stated into the sudden silence. "That's the only way we can do this and still cover all of the bases."

         "Quite right," Red commented agreeably. "So I had best get going, Tifa. As soon as we can find Aeris..."

         "I'm right here," she proclaimed loudly as she entered the room already dressed for travel, with her Buster sword safely in its sheath on her back. She still wore the shirt and shorts that she had worn to dinner, but it was no longer covered by a jacket. Instead, she was sporting the glistening armor of an Escort Guard. She smiled at the confused expressions on the faces of her parents.

         "I've been listening at the door for the past couple of minutes," she explained apologetically. "I knew somebody had to go after Devin, and I knew that the Dyson meeting was tomorrow, so I figured that it would be best to get ready to leave just in case. You don't mind that I borrowed your old armor, do you Dad?"

         Cloud slowly shook his head, staring at his daughter ruefully. "You're welcome to it, Aeris. Just be gentle with your brother, please."

         Aeris smiled warmly.

         "Don't worry, Dad, Mom," she said confidently. "Me and Red will bring him back in one piece."

         It was many hours past dark when a lone figure on the back of a muscular Chocobo as black as the night from which it rode came to a stop outside one of the many gates of New Midgar, his light-blue eyes staring up at the massive city which stretched away ahead in a mixture of awe and excitement. Rain was falling over the city and the plains around it, and the water had long ago soaked both mount and rider, but the young man astride the Black Chocobo quickly forgot all about the wretched weather.

         Ahead was, quite simply, the most amazing thing that Devin Strife had ever seen.

         Just visible in the distance were the towers and giant circular domes of the Gold Saucer, standing barely taller than the length of his index finger. Around them, like a massive metal quilt lain below a Christmas tree to catch falling needles, stretched the sprawling metropolis of New Midgar.

         The city was surrounded by a giant black wall of armor thicker than the entire length of Nibleheim, gun turrets manned by alert- looking Shinra troopers jutting from the top of the wall in a solid line ten meters apart, which stretched away into the distance far further than Devin could see. Colored light from the various neon signs and windows of New Midgar glistened from the long banks of solar collectors, which paved the top of the armor wall and the ceiling of virtually every building in the sprawling metropolis. The collectors strained for every last electron of solar energy they could obtain, even with the moon covered by the thick black clouds which were currently soaking the city in rain. To Devin, the entire city looked like a vast, black beast covered in glistening, reflective scales, curled around the towers of the Gold Saucer as if to guard it even in sleep.

         The gate was not unattended. In fact, Devin was considerably surprised by the unusual number of Shinra soldiers which stood at alert outside the closed gates. There were at least four times as many as there should have been, judging from what little Devin had heard of the city from Cid Highwind, whenever the washed up old pilot had come to visit.

         He wondered briefly if his parents had figured out where he had gone yet. Most likely not, he decided, satisfied. This was not the first night he had not returned home, and they were surely waiting back in Nibleheim for him to show up the next day, so that they could scold him for his foolishness and punish him for whatever various things they decided that they did not like.

         Ha. Well, they'll never be able to punish me for anything again. His excitement increased as he brought Woody to a stop at the insistence of one of the Shinra guards, who raised his hand warningly, the rifle which rested easily in his other a sharp warning of what would happen if the first gesture was not obeyed.

         Devin gave the reins a short snap to tell Woody that now was the time to stop, and the Chocobo did so without question, seeming to sense that their long journey was finally at an end. Without further fanfare, he jumped down from Woody's back, still clutching the reins in one hand, and waited patiently for the lone guard to approach. In addition to the light-blue uniform of the Shinra regulars, the soldier also wore a vest of thick body armor, something else which immediately struck him as unusual.

         Did something happen since I left that I should know about?

         "State your business here and produce identification!" the trooper ordered sharply as he approached. Devin regarded him calmly and, without looking down, reached to the belt that held up his gray riding pants, frayed and worn from many years of rough living. The Shinra guard stiffened, evidently thinking that he might be going for a weapon, but Devin kept his movements slow and deliberate, undoing the belt pouch and retrieving the requested items.

         "Devin Strife, here to join up," he replied coldly, holding out his identification papers and plastic ID card for the soldier to peruse. The other snatched the papers from his hand and slid the ID card into a reader attached to his belt, looking the papers over intently while the reader on his belt interfaced with the New Midgar computer system, and tracked down Devin's ID.

         He knew that his records were there, and was not worried. He had been to New Midgar before, with Cid and his parents, and so he wouldn't have to deal with the complicated admissions process that new visitors to the mighty city had to endure. The card reader beeped impatiently seconds later, but the soldier ignored it, still looking intently at Devin's papers.

         Something's up. He was sure of it, now. Normally, once the card cleared a gate guard would give identification papers barely a second glance. This guard, however, seemed as intent on the papers as if he were reading a trashy romance novel.

         "Something wrong?" Devin inquired innocently, resisting the urge to glance nervously around. What if his parents had figured out where he had gone? What if they had somehow gotten here before him, and gotten Reeve to put an alert for him into New Midgar's computer system? He knew without a doubt that neither of his parents would let him join SOLDIER willingly--it was one more aspect of their attempts to control his life, make him the kind of person that THEY wanted him to be.

         He tried to control his sudden alarm, knowing that it was groundless. There was no way they would know he was here, not yet, not until it was too late for them to stop him. He had told the Chocobo handler back in Nibleheim that he was taking Woody out for a camping trip, and had given the man a pair of official looking clearance papers signed with an almost perfect replica of his father's signature. A lowly Chocobo stable-hand wasn't going to question the orders of the Mayor of Nibleheim, after all!

         Then why was it taking so long? Why didn't they just clear him and let him be on his way?

         Although it seemed like an eternity, it took barely a minute longer for the soldier to finish checking over Devin's papers. With a grunt of satisfaction, he handed them back and pulled the ID card from its reader, catching the green glow it was giving off out of the corner of his eye, assuring him that Devin's ID was valid.

         "There's no animals allowed in the city," he warned Devin calmly, as he turned back to the wall and gestured Devin to follow him. "You'll have to check your Chocobo into a stable once you get inside. He'll be taken care of."

         "Thanks. Know of a place I can stay for the night?"

         The soldier gave him a sidelong glance. "You say you're here to join up, huh?"

         "That's right," he answered proudly.

         "Head straight up the main road for about a half-mile and turn right on Dodge Street. Follow that into Sector Twelve and you should run across a place called the New Shinra Inn. It's all right, and it's mainly a soldier hang-out, so they should take you. If they don't, tell 'em Clyde sent you."

         "Thanks." The soldier waved his words off with a practiced shake of his head.

         "Don't thank me yet, kid," he grumbled. They had finally reached the gates, one of which had slid open about a meter to admit him. "If this mess gets any bigger, you may wish that you hadn't signed up."

         "What mess?", Devin asked, but the soldier was already out of earshot, heading back to his post. Devin briefly considered going after him, but decided against it. He was here, now, and he didn't want to give the New Midgar guards any reason to kick him out. He headed through the large doorway, leading Woody along behind him, and as soon as they were through it slid shut and slammed with enough force to send a powerful echo roaring down the concrete tunnel through which he walked. It was dry, which was a relief, but smelled musty and artificial, which he didn't like.

         I'm here. He could scarcely believe it. I'm finally here.

         It had not been easy for him, growing up in Nibleheim, which his parents and older sister had moved into barely two years after his birth. Once he had entered school, he had immediately noticed that he was--different. He hadn't known why, and at first he hadn't inquired, but everyone at the school, even his teachers, treated him differently than the other kids. It hadn't taken him too long to figure out why.

         He was the son of the Mayor. People either refused to acknowledge him at all, jealous of the wealth and fame of his parents, or followed him everywhere, pretending to be his friend in hopes of currying favor with his father. His teachers were not immune. They refused to punish him for anything, which let him get away with things that the other kids could only dream about, further driving a wedge between him and his peers. And they seemed to hover over him like nervous Chocobos over a prized hatchling, never leaving him alone, never letting him think or get out from under their watchful gaze.

         He hated school. Why was it even necessary? All he learned was useless stuff, algebra, history. All he had ever wanted to be was a soldier, and what use did a soldier have for useless subjects like those taught in school? You didn't have to know how to solve a quadratic equation to fire a rifle.

         The other boys in his classes had been the worst. They had always been competing with him, trying to measure themselves against the highest standard they could find, the son of the Mayor, the son of a man who had saved the world, even! He had learned quickly to defend himself out on the playground, where the other boys would often try to pick fights with him, either because they were jealous of the money behind him or hopeful that they could show that they were tough, by beating up the son of the great warrior Cloud Strife.

         Most of them regretted it, of course. After Devin had sent a few of them running off the playground in tears the security around him had been doubled, and then the distance between him and everyone else had gotten even bigger. A bodyguard was always in sight somewhere, wherever he went, and the others knew it. Of course, he had to deal with the taunts and jibes, the cries of "Poor little Devin, hiding behind his big bad bodyguards." Devin had picked more than a few fights of his own over taunts like that, and unlike the school, his parents had been more than willing to punish him as a result.

         But that's all over, he thought with satisfaction. I'm in charge of my own life, now. It felt good, very good, to be out on his own. It had taken him nearly two years to prepare for this day, but the effort had been worth it. He had taken odd jobs around town, whatever was available, to earn the money he would need to start his own life once he arrived at New Midgar.

         He could have obtained the money by easier means, of course--his parents gave Aeris a moderate allowance, but of course had suspended his indefinitely after he had beaten up one too many of the neighborhood kids, in retaliation for a number of insults and slights. Despite what his parents thought of him, he would not steal, and had set out to earn all of the money he would need honestly. It had taken him nearly two years to save up an amount that he thought was sufficient, almost 5000 gil, and then all that was left was to find the right time to escape. The scheduled meeting with Dyson Corp had been the perfect opportunity, and Devin had taken it.

         The tunnel split ahead, stretching off to his left and right as well as straight ahead, and he made a quick check of the signs that hung from the ceiling to find out where he needed to go. Stables were to the right, so he was going right.

         "Wark." Woody chirped, cocking his head at Devin curiously.

         "Don't worry, boy, it's only for the night," he assured the Chocobo with a practiced grin. "As soon as I get signed up, I'll tell Dad to come pick you up."

         The lone stable-hand who greeted him as he approached looked bored to tears, not at all happy at being relegated to the graveyard shift. The New Midgar Stable Office wasn't much, just a room set behind bullet-proof glass, with a small hole for money to exchange hands. As Devin and Woody approached, the stable-hand straightened and glanced at them sharply, obviously surprised to see a rare Black gracing the stark concrete tunnels of New Midgar.

         "Dropping off?" he asked uncertainly. "How many days you need?"

         "Just one."

         "ID," the man ordered, and Devin promptly handed the card over. The stable-hand scanned it through a reader and then punched absentmindedly on his keyboard, logging Devin's mount into the system. "That'll be 300 gil for the night."

         Devin grimaced, but counted out the required amount and handed it to the man, tucking the ID card back into his money pouch as soon as he finished. The New Midgar stables charged an arm and a leg, but they were the only service available in the city, and with that monopoly they could afford to be expensive.

         The stable-hand counted Devin's money one more time, as he waited impatiently, slightly irked that the man would think that he would try to short him. The stable-hand grunted as he finished counting the money, dropped it into his register, and depressed a small yellow button on his desk.

         With a hiss, a previously invisible door cracked open in the wall to the left of the office and slid to the side, revealing a long hallway with rows of numbers, closed stables stretching into the distance as far as Devin could see. The place smelled of disinfectant and looked cold and unforgiving, not at all like the pleasant, hay-filled stables at Choco Billy's Ranch, which his father had taken him to many times when he was younger.

         That's over now, he reminded himself sternly. He didn't hate his parents. They were simply misguided, trying to control his life instead of letting him live it the way he wanted. After he joined SOLDIER, after he proved himself as a man, they would finally have to treat him as an equal and not as a child. Then, finally, they would understand that they had been wrong.

         Woody's head swiveled to face Devin, and he blinked, letting out an anxious warble. Frowning slightly, Devin reached over and patted the Black roughly on the flank, trying to reassure him.

         "Easy boy, it's only for the night."

         Woody chirruped something that sounded quite disparaging.

         "Well, chances are where I'm staying won't be much nicer," Devin said defensively. A stable-hand was waiting impatiently a few feet away, and so he stepped back and let the man snap an electric marker around Woody's right leg. The Chocobo was used to such handling, a veteran of many races at the Gold Saucer, so he submitted to the treatment without complaint and let himself be led into the stables with little more than an angry chirp in Devin's direction.

         Almost as an afterthought, Devin walked after the man and tapped on his shoulder to get his attention.

         "What?" the stable-hand asked irritably, turning around to face him.

         Devin reached into his money pouch and gave the man ten gil. "Make sure he gets taken care of, okay?"

         The stable-hand looked down at the coin in his hand and blinked once, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter. Devin frowned, his temper rising.

         "Kid, if you think that tipping ten gil is going to get you places around here," the stable-hand said between laughs, slapping his knee in mirth as he led Woody past the doorway and into the stables, "you're more of a country hick than I thought you were."

         Before Devin could reply, the door slammed shut. Devin just stared at it for a second, caught off guard by the quickness of the man's exit, but his surprise quickly gave way to anger. He marched over to the desk, planning to demand his 10 gil back, but the stable-hand who had checked him in had mysteriously disappeared. A sign had been placed by the small hole in the glass with the words "On Break" scrawled in red.

         "Bastards," Devin cursed under his breath. Well, he could either wait around here until the man reappeared, which could take hours, or let the matter go. Sighing, he tried to calm himself, turning around and taking several deep breaths. He had let his anger get the better of him one too many times in the past. He wasn't a child anymore, he was an adult, and throwing a tantrum at the stable-hand's insult would do little to further his goals here at New Midgar.

         It was just ten gil, he reassured himself. Still, the fact that he had given it up for nothing galled him, and so he forced himself to begin walking back to the fork in the tunnel, deciding that standing around fuming would get him nowhere. By the time he reached the junction and turned right to head out of the wall and into New Midgar proper, he had managed to put the incident at the back of his mind, if not out of it.

         He stopped momentarily as he exited the tunnel, unable to move as he stared in silent reverence at the metropolis which sprawled around him. To his right was a large metal building easily five times the size of the Strife Mansion in Nibleheim, wet and slick looking with rain. The many colored lights of the city glistened from the solar collectors on its roof, those which were visible over the edge. To his left, a massive strip of small stores with a wealth of blazing neon signs above their doors wound away down the street ahead, advertising everything from weapons to lawn furniture.

         Someone bumped him from behind, roughly, and he spun on the figure as it stumbled past.

         "Don't stand around like an idiot," a rough, husky voice ordered him from inside a black hood, evidently pulled up to ward off the rain and chill night air.

         "Sorry," Devin mumbled involuntarily, red rushing to his cheeks, as the figure hobbled away, its form largely invisible under the black cloak which covered everything to its feet, which were clad in red leather boots.

         Stop acting like a country hick. You're a soldier now. Or will be, soon.

         He took a step forward, looked around quickly, and then remembered the gate guard's instructions. Well, this looked like the main road, and he was supposed to head up it until he hit Dodge Street. No use waiting around here.

         Unconsciously, aware of the sudden lack of weight on his belt, his right hand reached down to finger his money pouch and touched nothing but empty air. In sudden alarm, he looked down at his side to find the pouch missing, and for a second his mind balked at the strangeness of that concept.

         Then his eyes leapt back up to the retreating form of the black-covered figure, which was just disappearing into a nearby alley.

         "Hey!" he cried angrily, immediately regretting his outburst as the black figure ceased its crippled hobbling and broke into a full-fledged run, darting into the alley. Shouting curses that would have made his mother ground him for a year, he rushed after the unknown thief as quickly as his tired legs could carry him.

         The thief had a hefty head start on him, but the son of the great Cloud Strife hadn't spent ten years of hunting with his father without building up a healthy amount of stamina, and as he had learned after several narrow scrapes when the neighborhood boys had outnumbered him, he had been blessed with a good amount of his mother's agility as well. Even after almost twelve hours of riding, he felt he still had enough stamina to run whoever had had the audacity to rob him down.

         He tore into the alley just in time to see the black clad figure leap from the top of a closed dumpster to the retracted ladder of a fire escape. He heard a curse from whoever was hidden behind that black coat as they noticed him and scrambled up onto the first floor of the fire escape, and he smiled grimly as he dashed toward the retracted ladder, less than a block down the alley.

         You picked the wrong country hick to rob tonight, whoever you are.

         The figure was already darting up the third story steps by the time he neared the retracted ladder, and he knew that if he wanted to catch him he'd have to make up for lost time. Tensing his legs, making sure he had enough of a running start, he leapt over the dumpster and into the air, stretching his arms skyward as far as they could go.

         "Yes!" he cried triumphantly as one of his hands just barely managed to catch the bottom rung of the retracted ladder, and clamped down upon it in a grip of iron as he swung his body around in a tight arc, twisting his arm in time with the motion. Concentrating with an almost zealous fervor, he used his momentum to throw himself up into the air, and flipped onto the narrow metal floor of the fire escape. He barely made the landing, sliding onto the fire escape on knees and shins, but he saved himself from a nasty fall at the last moment by snagging the guard rail with the crook of his arm. Taking only a half second to catch his breath, and ignoring the rush of adrenaline charging through his veins, he glanced upward as he rose to check on the black figure's progress.

         Belatedly, the figure two stories up turned away and dashed up another flight of steps, and Devin leapt into pursuit, realizing that the thief had actually stopped to WATCH him.

         Beginning to regret your choice of marks tonight, aren't you?

         The clanging of the unknown figure's feet on the steps of the fire escape ended a few seconds later, as he leapt onto the roof and out of Devin's sight. Cursing, he rushed up the third story of steps, taking them three at a time, praying that the thick treads on his boots would not slip on the slick metal of the fire escape and send him tumbling into what could possibly be a back-breaking fall.

         Another four seconds and he was at the roof. He leapt off the fire escape and looked around frantically for his quarry, but the figure had disappeared.

         No! he cried silently. He can't be gone. I refuse to accept that!

         In the space of a second, he took in the whole of the small roof upon which his chase had momentarily come to a stop. Ahead and to his right was a bank of solar collectors, eight in all, their reflective surfaces pointed skyward in a vain attempt to gather any light that managed to penetrate the thick cloud cover above. Without the moon to provide illumination, it was menacingly dark up on the roof, and the rest of the space around him was a mass of vague shadows and the occasional glint of stark grey metal.

         No way off the roof, though, not that Devin could see. The thief had probably been planning to make it up the fire escape before his victim had noticed that the pouch was missing, and hide out there until the coast was clear. It was poor planning, for a thief, retreating to an area with only one way in and out. The fire escape that Devin had just finished climbing.

         He smiled again, staring into the darkness around him defiantly.

         "There's no way off this roof, 'sides the way you came up, you know." He shouted as loud as he could, dropping a cautious hand to the knife that he had strapped to his belt. He wouldn't draw it, yet, because that could spook the thief into doing something rash.

         Without warning, he had a disturbing thought. Suppose whoever had robbed him had a gun? Suppose they were taking aim at him right now from the darkness, lining their sights up with his head? He hadn't really thought that far ahead, he realized with chagrin, not much further than tracking down and beating up the unknown thief who had taken his money. But now, far from home, standing on this black empty roof in this giant city with rain pouring down on top of him, he suddenly wondered how good of an idea it had been to go chasing after some unknown figure into a dark abandoned alley.

         Stop it! he ordered himself angrily, pushing aside his momentary fear, ashamed at having even let it surface. A future member of SOLDIER shouldn't be afraid of a petty thief.

         The roof was silent, and so Devin inched forward cautiously, giving his eyes time to adjust to the darkness around him, keeping one eye on the fire escape at all times just in case his quarry should decide to double back.

         "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he muttered softly.

         As his eyes finished adjusting, he managed to make out the rest of the roof. The only other features on its largely empty expanse besides the bank of solar collectors were two metal boxes, lost in shadow near the far rear wall, barely large enough to hold the closed metal doors which were set into their forward walls. They most likely led into the building itself.

         For a moment, Devin wondered if the thief had disappeared into one of those doors, but he quickly dismissed the idea. The thick bulges of the electronic locks which held them shut assured him that neither door was accessible from the outside, so that left his quarry only so many places to hide. Either behind one of the boxes, or in the solar collectors.

         He paused between them, glancing back and forth, momentarily frozen in indecision. He listened as best he could, hoping to catch a rustle of cloth, ragged breathing, anything, but the only sound that greeted his ears was the soft patter of rain on the slanted surface of the roof, as it trickled down to the numerous storm drains scattered around the roof's perimeter. Grimacing, he absentmindedly brushed at the water pooling on his brow and decided on the boxes. They were the darker of the two possible hiding places, and there was a chance that the thief, frightened by the pursuit, would have instinctively gone for the darkest hiding spot possible.

         He approached the two boxes cautiously, alert for any sign of life. Nothing but silence. One eye warily glanced back at the fire escape and solar collectors, but there was no movement from those quarters either. Belatedly, he wondered if there was some other exit off the roof that he had missed. What if the thief had jumped?

         That thought spurred him into action, and he quickened his pace, praying that his dawdling hadn't allowed the thief to jump buildings and get away from him scot-free. He darted between the two boxes, alert for any appearance of the black cloaked figure, and quickly ascertained that no one was hiding behind them. That left the roof of one of the boxes, or...

         "Dammit!" he swore, as he rushed up to the side of the rear part of the building and stared down angrily at the second fire escape, which led down to another alley that didn't intersect with the first one. He'd missed it because it had been hidden behind the boxes.

         Once again, a fleeting sense that something was wrong gripped him.

         Wait. I would have heard the sound of those boots on that metal. Even if the thief was skilled enough to mask the sound, he could only do so by going slow enough that he'd still be on the fire escape. So if he didn't go down it, that means...

         He spun around just in time to catch a glimpse of the bottom of a red leather boot as it dropped from the air behind him and smashed into the side of his face with enough force to cause a horde of black and red dots to leap into a macabre dance before his eyes. He stumbled backwards and crashed against the raised wall of the roof's concrete perimeter as the black cloaked figure landed on the wet surface, and then spun around and darted for the opposite edge, toward the solar collectors.

         Ambushed! Son of a...

         He stumbled forward, blinking like mad to clear the rain and swirling dots from his vision. He brushed at his brow to clear it of rain water as the figure reached the edge of the perimeter wall and skidded to a stop, and as he continued to rush forward he noted that his hand had come away slick with blood.

         Oh, you're going to pay for that, you back-stabbing little son of a bitch.

         It was then that he noticed that the thief had taken the wrong direction. Why hadn't he headed for the other fire escape? Had he decided that he couldn't beat Devin down it? Probably. But why had he let himself be cornered at the other edge of the roof? A third way out? No building had THAT many fire escapes!

         He walked forward cautiously, and his hand unconsciously reached to his side to draw his belt knife, but he held back, even though every fiber in his body was urging him to draw it. The thief had had a clean shot at his back, and the worst he had done was give him a sound kick to the head. That meant that he was either unarmed, or unwilling to kill in cold blood, and either way, it meant that he wasn't a threat to Devin unless he turned his back again. However, if he pulled out his knife and gave the thief no other options, this whole incident could escalate rather drastically. Devin was willing to give the man a good beating, but his mind balked at the thought of killing, and if he drew his knife, chances were he might end up doing just that.

         Corner a snake and it will strike out in self-defense. Corner a thief and he'll do just the same.

         "There's nowhere to go," he insisted calmly as he inched forward, one hand near his belt knife just in case he did have to draw it to defend himself. "You're caught. Give it up. Give me my money back, and maybe I won't beat the piss out of you."

         The cloaked figure glanced around warily, his features still concealed underneath his drawn hood. A crack of thunder rolled across the rooftops as if in response to Devin's words, and the rain began to fall in thick sheets, but he merely grinned, evilly, staring into the darkness of the thief's hood, searching for his eyes.

         A drop of blood fell into his right eye, and he blinked to clear it. No sooner had he done this than the thief spun around and leapt up onto the concrete perimeter in time with a brilliant flash of lightning, and another echoing tremor of thunder.

         "Hey, don't!" Devin cried. The thief's arms windmilled suddenly as the wind picked up in a mighty gust, tearing at Devin's hair and clothes. He dashed forward as fast as he could, forgetting all attempts at caution. If this damned thief fell off the building because of him, if he died because of him...

         The figure righted itself, gave Devin a furtive backward glance, and leapt out into the night just as he came within grabbing distance.

         The edge of his outstretched fingers barely caught the trailing edge of the thief's long cloak as he leapt off the edge of the building, and Devin clasped to it like a drowning man to a life-preserver, desperately trying to drag the suicidal jumper back to the roof.

         Of all the stupid, insane, goddamn crazy things to do... !

         Caught in Devin's grasp, the cloak made a snapping sound as it was pulled taut, and the figure who wore it was jerked around in mid-leap, letting out a sudden shriek of horror. Devin was yanked forward as the coat began to slip off and the figure began to fall, straight toward the hard concrete ground five stories below.

         His chest smashed painfully against the concrete perimeter and he was jerked to a halt, but he somehow managed to maintain his grip on the cloak, praying that the thief would do so as well.

         He can't die! I didn't want to kill... !

         After an agonizingly long second, he realized that the cloak was still taut, not limp like it would be if the figure inside it had slipped out of it completely. Slowly, cautiously, he pulled himself up from where he had crashed to a stop against the perimeter wall and peered over the edge.

         The first thing he noticed was the roof of the building a story below the one on which he was now standing, just within jumping distance. So the thief hadn't been trying to kill himself, as Devin had thought. He had been trying to escape, just as before.

         He berated himself for jumping to such an illogical conclusion. He had obviously messed up the thief's jump by grabbing his cloak, but this was a mixed blessing. He had prevented his robber from making a getaway, certainly. But he hadn't wanted to do that if it was at the expense of his unknown assailant's life. Tearing his eyes from the roof, he finally managed to look down at the coat he was holding, praying that what he would see would not be the motionless body of the thief laying five stories below against the pavement.

         His prayers were answered. Someone was dangling from the left arm of the cloak, very much alive, clad now only in a soaked red tank-top and maroon skirt, her long brown hair tossing and turning in the thick mess of rain and wind. At that Devin's eyes widened. HER?

         The unknown woman stared up at him defiantly, brilliant green eyes burning with a fire the like of which he never seen, taunting him, daring him to let go of his grip on the cloak.

         She can't be much younger than Aeris!

         "Hey!" he sputtered, suddenly, his anger forgotten. "Don't panic! I'll pull you up!"

         "Like hell you will!" she shouted back. A deafening crack of thunder broke almost on top of them, as if to accent her furious assertion.

         Devin blinked once in disbelief.

         "What the hell do you mean?" he shouted. "Do you WANT me to let you fall?"

         She was already moving, kicking out from the wall with a powerful push of her long, muscled legs, swinging out to the left in an arc centered on Devin's aching arm. The edge of her hand snagged the side of one of the round metal gutters that were fastened to the wall, and she pulled herself over to it quicker than seemed humanly possible.

         "Hey!" Devin cried again in protest, and then he suddenly fell backward as the audacious thief let go of her cloak and grasped the gutter with her other hand, the sudden absence of weight catching him off-guard.

         "Goddamit!" He relinquished the cloak and jumped to his feet, rushing once again to the perimeter fence. He looked over just in time to see the woman finish sliding down the slick metal gutter and hit the hard concrete below with a practiced flex of her legs and feet.

         She glanced up at him, rain pouring onto her face and cascading down her long hair and bare shoulders, and then raised his money pouch in the air triumphantly, a wry smirk suddenly breaking through the anger that had previously clouded her features.

         Then she turned and dashed down the alley, back toward the street, and Devin only had to take one look at the rickety gutter to decide against trying his luck on it. Besides, even if he did manage to slide down it without killing himself, the woman, whoever she was, was already long gone.

         He took a slow step away from the perimeter roof and sank to his knees, staring blankly at nothing. He'd been in New Midgar for barely ten minutes. And, in that short time, he'd managed to get insulted by a stable-hand, thoroughly soaked, kicked in the head, and lost his ID card as well as all of his hard earned gil.

         Defeated, exhausted, he lay back against the mildly slanted surface of the roof and stared up into the roiling black clouds that waged a vicious war above, closing his eyes dejectedly to stop the stinging, cold rain from falling into them.

         Screwed, he thought, darkly. I am completely and totally screwed.

Continue to Chapter 3