The heavy quiet in Seventh Heaven stretched on, broken only by the clinking of glasses as folks slowly started to find their voices again.
The shock of Arthur's story was a bitter pill, but with it came a strange, fierce pride.
They had done the impossible. They had changed fate.
Far above, in the gleaming heights of Shinra Tower, the mood was anything but celebratory.
President Shinra paced his office like a caged beast, the opulent furnishings doing little to soothe his rage.
The news from Sector 7 was a disaster. The charges on the pillar, meant to bring down the plate and crush the rebellion, had failed. Neutralized. Just like that.
"Explain this!"
He thundered, slamming a fist onto his polished desk.
Rufus, his son, stood by, a smirk barely hidden.
Heidegger, head of Public Security, blustered, sweat beading on his forehead.
"President, we… we don't understand how this happened. Our best engineers, our most secure systems… they were all in place."
Scarlet, head of Shinra's Advanced Weaponry division, chimed in with a sneer.
"Perhaps your 'secure systems' aren't quite as secure as you claim, Heidegger. My bombs were flawless."
"Flawless?!"
Heidegger roared back.
"Then why are they still intact, you blithering idiot?!"
President Shinra cut them off with a furious gesture.
"Silence! I don't care whose fault it is! The fact remains, my plan failed. And worse, those Avalanche rats are still scurrying around. This is a direct challenge to Shinra's authority, to my authority!"
His eyes narrowed, gleaming with cold fury.
"Find out how this happened. Find out who was responsible. And bring them to me."
He knew one thing for sure: the public would have questions. They had promised security, prosperity, and now a major operation had gone spectacularly wrong.
The whispers would start, the doubts would grow.
Shinra couldn't afford a loss of face, not now, when their Mako reactors were sucking the planet dry and dissent was bubbling beneath the surface.
He needed a win, and he needed it fast.
Back in the lower plates, a different kind of anger was brewing.
Avalanche wasted no time. With the immediate threat neutralized, they began to spread the word.
Copies of Shinra's internal documents, detailing their intent to drop the Sector 7 plate, were carefully distributed.
These weren't easy to get, but Avalanche had their ways, their network of sympathizers and informants quietly working in the shadows of Midgar.
Flyers appeared in back alleys, tucked into market stalls, and even slipped under the doors of apartments in the upper plates.
Digital files, painstakingly copied, made their way onto public terminals, appearing for brief moments before being scrubbed by Shinra's watchful eyes.
The message was stark: Shinra intended to murder thousands of innocent citizens.
The reaction was mixed, a chaotic symphony of disbelief, terror, and outrage.
"It's a lie! Avalanche propaganda!"
Shouted a vendor in Sector 8, clutching a flyer in a trembling hand.
"Shinra protects us! They wouldn't do this!"
"Of course they would!"
A grizzled old mechanic retorted, pointing a grease-stained finger.
"They bleed the planet dry, why wouldn't they sacrifice us for their own gain? It makes perfect sense!"
In the crowded lower markets, hushed conversations turned into heated arguments.
Families huddled together, fear etched on their faces. The idea that the very company that powered their homes, that provided their jobs, would intentionally cause such a catastrophe was unthinkable for many.
They had lived under Shinra's shadow for so long, trusting in its omnipresent authority. To question it was to question the very foundation of their lives.
"They're just trying to stir up trouble,"
A woman whispered to her neighbor, glancing nervously at a passing Shinra guard.
"Don't listen to them. It'll only make things worse."
But for others, especially those who had felt the brunt of Shinra's indifference or seen the decaying slums firsthand, the documents resonated.
They had always suspected the corporation cared more about profits than people. This, they felt, was proof.
"This is it,"
A young man said, eyes burning with quiet fury as he read a flyer by the dim light of a street lamp.
"This is why Avalanche fights. This is why we need to fight."
Shinra's public relations teams worked overtime, issuing swift and forceful denials.
They called Avalanche "terrorists" and their claims "outrageous fabrications."
They plastered pro-Shinra messages on every available surface, painting Avalanche as dangerous extremists who sought to destabilize Midgar.
For a time, it seemed to work. The sheer audacity of Avalanche's claims, coupled with Shinra's immense power and control over information, made many hesitate.
But the seed of doubt had been planted.
The image of the shining company, the benevolent provider, had been tarnished.
And in the shadowy corners of the lower plates, where desperation was a way of life, that doubt began to fester and grow into something far more dangerous for Shinra: rebellion.
The fear of a falling plate was gone, replaced by a new, more insidious fear: the fear of the truth.
As President Shinra fumed and the city buzzed with conflicting rumors, an unexpected development landed squarely on his desk.
Dr. Hojo, the eccentric and morally bankrupt head of Shinra's Science Department, appeared in the President's office, a manic grin stretching his thin lips.
"President, I have fascinating news!"
Hojo practically bounced with barely contained excitement.
"My research has yielded a significant breakthrough. It appears our initial assessments were… incomplete."
Shinra, still seething from the pillar incident, merely grunted.
"Get to the point, Hojo."
"Yes, yes, of course!"
Hojo adjusted his glasses, his eyes gleaming.
"It concerns the Cetra. The Ancients. You recall our efforts to locate a pure Cetra, their invaluable connection to the Lifestream, their potential for locating the Promised Land?"
Shinra nodded slowly, his fury momentarily forgotten, replaced by a predatory interest. The Promised Land.
A legendary land of boundless Mako, a treasure trove beyond imagination.
Shinra had poured vast resources into finding it, believing it held the key to infinite power and ultimate control.
"For years, we've tracked potential candidates, but none possessed the pure lineage, the true connection we sought,"
Hojo explained, practically vibrating with glee.
"However, based on new data, coupled with… shall we say, a rather peculiar energy signature detected recently in Sector 7 during the pillar incident…"
He paused for dramatic effect.
"We have pinpointed the location of a genuine, living Cetra. A female. Her name… is Aerith Gainsborough."
President Shinra's eyes widened. A pure Cetra.
All this time, she had been under their noses, living in the lower plate, associating with the very terrorists who had just thwarted his plans.
The irony was almost amusing, if it weren't so infuriating.
"Are you certain, Hojo?"
Shinra's voice was low, laced with a dangerous anticipation.
"Absolutely!"
Hojo cackled, pushing a holographic display forward. It showed a grainy image of Aerith, her distinctive pink dress and staff visible.
"Her unique genetic markers, her resonance with the Planet's spiritual energy… it all aligns perfectly. She is the last of her kind, President. The key to the Promised Land. And she is currently residing in Sector 7, in a place called Seventh Heaven."
A cold, calculating smile spread across President Shinra's face.
The pillar failure, the public unrest… all of it could be offset by this. The
Promised Land would bring unimaginable wealth and power, silencing all dissent.
And he knew just how to get his hands on her.
"Heidegger,"
Shinra barked, his voice regaining its authoritative edge.
"Mobilize every available unit. The Turks. SOLDIER. I want every elite operative you have. I want Aerith Gainsborough captured. Bring her to me, unharmed. And if anyone, anyone from Avalanche, tries to interfere… eradicate them."
Heidegger, suddenly energized, snapped a salute.
"Yes, President! Consider it done!"
The message went out immediately. Shinra's elite, their highly trained SOLDIER operatives, and the shadowy Turks, their intelligence and infiltration specialists, were all put on high alert.
Their target: a flower girl from the slums.
But to Shinra, she wasn't just a girl; she was the ultimate prize, the key to a future where Shinra reigned supreme.
The hunt for Aerith Gainsborough had begun once again.
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Craze: X-men time! The vote will end on this Friday.
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