Archive of Our Own ^beta

It had been a day since the Chief had made the announcement of the formal dissolution of the Turks. For Cissnei, hours had never passed so simultaneously quickly and at such an agonizing crawl. Cissnei had gotten used to being well in control of her emotions, the swinging between incredible dread and childish sulking was a step backward. While it would never show on her face, it was there, hidden behind coy smiles and focus on her duties.

Kalm and the surrounding towns had agreed to allow space for refugees and Shinra employees there for the recovery efforts, including Cissnei and her fellow former-Turks. She had pulled herself away from the bed in the cramped motel room to monopolize the bathroom and its mirror before any of the other girls. She stared at her reflection, feeling her own brown eyes as though they were a world’s worth of scrutiny.

In her hand rested her Shinra ID, and she scowled at the name that didn’t match her photo. What was so important about a name? A codename or otherwise?

It was everything, and she hated that she was so fixated on it.

Cissnei heard rustling from the bedroom, and she quickly slipped the plastic card in her breast pocket before throwing on her black suit coat. “I’m done,” she said to the unspoken question, opening the bathroom door.

Predictably, it was Judet who was the first awake. Her hard face was haggard and tired, and her reddish-brown eyes dull and heavy as she staggered past Cissnei into the bathroom. While Judet was always awake first, that hardly meant she was a chipper early-riser. “Mornin,’” she mumbled as she pushed aside her dust-colored hair and leaned over the sink. “Couldn’t sleep well?” she asked in a gruff voice after washing her face.

Putting on her bravest smile, Cissnei lied, “Not at all.” Fitting her fingerless gloves on, Cissnei stepped back into the suite. 

“We’re having to share a bed and you think I don’t notice?” Judet asked after her.

Sometimes it was maddening that the group of them were so closely tied to each other. Secrets were next to impossible to keep. “Please don’t analyze me before sunrise. Or at least not before coffee.”

“When’s a good time for you?”

Cissnei paused beside her shoes, glancing toward the bathroom to note Judet’s perfectly straight face. “…Don’t keep your schedule open.”

Throwing her a smirk, Judet eased the door closed.

Their exchange had disturbed Freyra, who yawned loudly while Emma continued to snore beside her. Pulling herself to a seated position in the bed, Freyra blearily regarded Cissnei through half-open eyes. “Hoo boy. Daily check. I’m not in a coma again, right?” she mumbled, rubbing her face.

The way Freyra would bring up her past trauma so casually made Cissnei uncomfortable every time she did it. “You’re not. You’ve been awake for months and we’re in Kalm.”

“Cool,” Freyra said, stretching as she stood. She added a scratch to her midsection. “Just gotta keep making sure I haven’t dreamt waking up.”

A heavy sigh indicated Violet was unable to feign slumber from the suite’s couch any longer. “I think I heard something about coffee?”

“I’ll go get breakfast for us,” Cissnei announced, fitting on her work shoes.

From the bed, her face still buried in the pillow, Emma mumbled, “Muh? Izzere breakfuss…?” 

Cissnei closed the door after her without an answer. She didn’t have time to fall into thought again, hearing the door to the room beside the girls’ shut. Ruluf strolled toward her, pausing in their whistling when they noted her. Their eyebrows raised in surprise. “Where’s my breakfast buddy? You up before Judet?”

“Today,” she said flatly as they walked side by side in the hall. “It certainly won’t be habit.”

“Couldn’t sleep well, either?” Ruluf said, slipping their hands in their pockets. 

“I suppose not.”

“Finally got to call my folks last night,” they said, brushing their flared bangs from their eyes. “If transportation wasn’t jacked up right now they woulda been on a boat the second I called.”

Cissnei’s lips tightened briefly. It was difficult to empathize with those who had family, who hadn’t been a Turk so long that family still existed outside of the Shinra sphere. Cissnei had never had the luxury. “What did you tell them?”

Shrugging in clear discomfort, Ruluf said, “It’s not like they aren’t used to me not being able to talk about what I do.”

“But a months-long disappearance with us being assumed dead?”

“‘Special mission of highest secrecy’,” they replied, opening the door to the lobby. “Not worth trying to describe what actually happened.”

“I’m sure they took it well.”

“Hey, I said I had trouble sleeping,” they laughed. “I didn’t say I wasn’t on the phone most of the night.” 

The two passed through the lobby, exiting into town square and getting in line for a food truck. Everything was being handed to Shinra employees and the Midgar homeless for the foreseeable future, so the pair loaded up on trays of coffee and bags of hastily-prepared egg sandwiches for the entire SpecOps team. 

As they cautiously walked with their burdens, Ruluf let out a long huff. “It’s still kinda…surreal. The entire world changed in what we thought was the blink of an eye.”

Cissnei shook her head firmly, pushing aside any agreement. “We all knew following a summon into its own space would come with consequences. It’s not worth fretting over.”

“I mean yeah, but I didn’t expect to get out and find out Rufus was killed while we were gone,” Ruluf mumbled. “Then Alvis…”

Cissnei didn’t react. She had spent all of her mental energy on surviving their previous mission, escaping certain death within a summon’s space only to face a suddenly unfamiliar world: a world with Sephiroth alive and the threat of Meteor looming above Gaia. Then came the repeated upheaval in Shinra—the only thing remotely close to a family she’d ever known. In the fog of it all, she could find little processing power left for fallen comrades. It was a bit distressing when she realized it. Cissnei had heard many others in Shinra call their Chief soulless. She wondered if Chief Dragoon had simply run out of emotions to give for those he lost. Being a Turk as long as he had meant watching so many comrades fall before him…

Ruluf awaited a response as a motel employee opened the lobby doors for them. “Hey, Cissy. You okay?” Ruluf asked gently. 

She clutched the bags slightly tighter. “D-Don’t call me ‘Cissy’…” she mumbled.

“You never told me your real name. I don’t think any of us know it. Wanna give me something else? Y’know, since we’re not supposed to be using codenames?”

Stopping in front of the girls’ door, she rapidly tapped the toe of her shoe against the door, her brow hard. “My last name is Tian.”

“‘Tian’?” they repeated, a smile growing across their face. “I feel downright hono—”

As the door opened, Violet immediately took the tray of coffees from Cissnei and disappeared back inside. “Thank every spirit, I was about to commit murder off the clock.”

With a glance over her shoulder to Ruluf, Cissnei followed Violet in. “Don’t feel honored, Ruluf. It’s all you’re getting. See you at the morning meeting.”

The troupe of former-Turks arrived with Veld already waiting in the meeting room, leaning against the table and flipping through files. This portable building had skylights in the ceilings of most of the rooms, allowing minimal mako use for lights—and currently casting the SpecOps commander in a halo-like glow.

“Good morning, SpecOps,” Veld said firmly as they entered and stood beside chairs, none taking a seat until given the order. “I got the word from the salvage teams that you all were invaluable yesterday. Well done. At ease.”

Wordlessly they obeyed, the shifting of chairs quieting as they settled. Cissnei anxiously held her hands on the tabletop, her mouth a thin line as she inwardly prepared what she hoped to say to Veld.

“Everyone,” Veld began with a heavy sigh. He closed the folder he held and began fanning himself with it as he stood straight. “I hate to have to do this, but I must leave the Midgar area. It should only be for a few days, two weeks at the absolute most.”

None asked for any explanation. If Veld wasn’t going to say openly, then it was not something they should concern themselves with.

“I have your assignments for during my absence. Though, before I begin,” he said, a half-grimace turning his face. “We have a request from the Senior Director. Keep your eyes open for a boy named Denzel. He’s between eight and nine years old, used to live on the Sector 7 plate, and during Meteorfall would have been living with a Ruby Tuesti.” Veld allowed a pause to drag out, then sighed heavily. “Unfortunately, that’s all we have. No photos, no physical description, no surname.”

Cissnei tossed a confused look to others around the table, meeting their gaze as they did the same. The only one who didn’t appear baffled by the lack of information was Emma, who only shook her head gently and knitted her hands together.

“He may be with any refugees who went through Sector 5 the day after Meteorfall,” Veld finished. “Tuesti is well aware that there’s almost nothing, and he’s not expecting a miracle. If nothing is found, he’ll understand. Just keep an eye open while you’re in the field.” 

Leaving that there, Veld’s face grew firm and he straightened. “Corin, Maur, Emma,” Veld began, gesturing to them. “All of us are aware of the heightened presence of beasts around Midgar. Recovery efforts can’t go into the night. This is wasting valuable time. Get yourselves ready, tonight you’ll be escorting salvage and rescue teams along with Security Division units. I expect the civilians to feel perfectly at ease doing their work. Absolutely nothing will get near them.”

“Sir,” the three affirmed. 

Letting out a short sigh, Veld rubbed his face tiredly. “The increase in monster activity is not natural. We all have an idea what is happening. Judet, Ruluf,” he said, sliding folders to each of them. “The Shinra Building has been without power for five days. Even during the day salvagers and rescuers are saying they’re hearing distressing sounds from that husk.”

The two exchanged looks, and opened their files. Taking in its contents, Ruluf was the first to speak, “Layouts of the Science Division floors?”

“Among other things,” Veld said with a nod. “Who knows what’s waking up in there?”

The others around the table added uneasy glances to Ruluf and Judet. Violet spoke up, “Sir, if we’re already making a move on Shinra Tower, shouldn’t more of us be going?”

His brow growing hard, Veld folded his arms across his chest. “They won’t be going alone. Judet, Ruluf, you’ll be going with Security Division teams as well. I’m making sure it’s understood the two of you are considered the commanding officers for this mission.”

“Yes, sir,” Judet said without question, while Ruluf shifted in their seat uneasily.

“You may have more help,” Veld said firmly. “At least one of the heroes of Meteorfall has agreed to join you. Vincent Valentine. You’ll find he’s worth a handful of you.”

A light went off behind Balto’s eyes. “He has the exact same name as a Turk who fell in action thirty years ago.”

Veld frowned. “You’re well-read, I see. It’s the same Valentine. He will not look his age, he will not want to speak on it, and I expect all of you to respect that.”

Ruluf’s eyes widened and they let out a long whistle. “Yes, sir.”

(Cissnei noted that Judet wasn’t surprised by this.)

“It is not guaranteed any of the others will join,” Veld continued, rubbing the back of his neck. “But Kisaragi Yuffie and Nakanki have offered aid. I can’t allow either of you to cause any difficulties, Balto, Violet.”

The two he named stared at the table in front of them. Balto adjusted his glasses while Violet’s jaw visibly tightened.

Then Veld locked his gaze on Claude. “I also cannot allow the daughter of Kisaragi Godo to potentially learn she’s fighting alongside the Red Reaper. If international incidents can be avoided, then it’s for the best.”

Claude made no reactions to this, still leaning far back in his chair with a foot resting on his knee. However, the slightest grin tugged at his lips.

“Thus, the three of you will be starting our hunt.” Veld passed folders to Violet and Balto. “These are names and dossiers on high-ranking Science Division researchers who have gone missing. It’s certainly not a complete list,” Veld grumbled bitterly. “But it will get us started.” Pausing in front of Claude, Veld held out a file to him with a scowl. “I expect them to be taken in alive. They cannot be made an example of unless it’s done publicly. Do we understand each other?”

Lowering his sunglasses enough to meet Veld’s eyes, Claude at first gave no response. The rest of SpecOps waited, uneasily expecting scathing defiance from the temperamental Red Reaper. However, he only smirked and took the folder from Veld’s grip gently. “Whatever you say, old man.”

Shocked looks darted between the others. Each of them had faced a piece of themselves on their prior mission…but something in Claude had drastically changed. Cissnei imagined everyone could see his abrasiveness easing and his indifference receding just as much as herself. And any of them could only wonder to themselves what exactly the resident outsider had seen while fighting Zirconiade.

Passing an impressed smile to Claude in response, Veld nodded to him firmly. “Good.” Having passed out all the folders, he then rested his hands in his pockets and strolled to Freyra. “You’re going to be handling an important mission, Freyra. With me gone, I need someone keeping an eye on Senior Director Tuesti. The two of you already get along well.”

Sheepishly, Freyra grimaced and shrugged. “Can’t say I have a great track record protecting him so far…”

“What happened during Meteorfall couldn’t have been prevented,” Veld assured her. “The likelihood of anything so extreme happening again is slim.”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a nod. 

“Thankfully,” Veld said, “he’s well taken care of where he’s currently living. Every other time, be nearby. And get used to knocking him out of his thoughts,” Veld added, grinning. “He’s got too much he needs to be concentrating on.”

Giggling, Freyra gave him an eager thumbs up. “Roger, roger.”

Cissnei’s anxiety grew as Veld finally placed his eyes on her. He began gently,  “Agent Tia—”

“Permission to speak to you privately, sir!” Cissnei blurted.

All present faced Cissnei, and she felt her cheeks burn. Veld only looked at her for a few moments, the weight of the air growing heavier the longer he pondered her. He then held up a hand. “The rest of you are dismissed. You have your assignments, SpecOps.”

All of the SpecOps agents other than Cissnei called out, “Yes, sir!” Chairs shifted as the group pulled themselves from their seats, and while no one added looks to Cissnei, she felt their attentions on her as they filed out. 

Swallowing hard, Cissnei’s hands clutched tightly on the tabletop. Her face grew tense as she waited through the sound of the doors. As the room finally fell still, Cissnei took long, deep breaths to steady herself.

His eyes soft, Veld propped himself against the table near her. “Agent Tian.”

He wouldn’t say her first name. He knew. Of course he knew. He would have been responsible for every bit of paperwork she’d had over the last six years—ever since she’d been put in the field at fourteen. Several times Cissnei’s mouth opened to speak, but each time her voice dried.

“While you consider what you’re going to say,” Veld said in a comforting voice. “I have your assignment.”

She nodded silently.

“You are an excellent judge of character, Agent Tian,” he offered. “I’m told that you failed a very simple mission during my absence as commander. Chasing down two of Hojo’s test subjects who escaped the Nibelheim labs together. One of them was suffering from mako addiction. It would have been impossible for them to make good time.”

Cissnei’s eyes drifted to her hands. “Yes, sir. It was a failure on my part. It was an easy mission, but I lost them.”

“Did you now?” he said with a knowing grin. 

Clearing her throat softly, she nodded.

“And because you did, one of those subjects ultimately destroyed Sephiroth and all of us are still alive,” Veld continued, his tone warm. “If failing to capture them had actually been a judgement call on your part, I would respect that tremendously.”

Finally, a smile began to creep over Cissnei’s face. “I would be honored if that were true, Chief.”

“I need someone who can make those kinds of judgement calls,” Veld said. “The Public Security Division’s loyalty is growing more tenuous by the day. After Chairman Heidegger’s death many deserted, and unfortunately, we’re still leaking soldiers. I’m not a fool. I know none of the ranks are thrilled to take orders from me, and are even less so at the idea of taking orders from Tuesti.”

This was an uncomfortable truth, and Cissnei had personally heard the grumbling from the rank and file. “Yes, sir.”

“What Shinra will become needs someone to replace Heidegger, someone who can take command and be respected when they do it. As we speak, many of his immediate subordinates are already eyeing the spot. I trust not a single one of them. They’re ready to stab each other and Tuesti in the back, and I will not allow that to happen,” Veld said firmly, folding his arms. “The job I’m assigning you is possibly the most important task I’m giving out. I need you to look through what’s left of the Shinra employee databases and find someone for that position. Whoever they are, they have to be high-ranking, well-respected among their subordinates, and even better if they ever got on Heidegger’s bad side. Someone who perhaps wasn’t willing to follow every order they received, if you understand what I mean.”

“An officer who saw integrity to uphold in the position,” she clarified.

Nodding, Veld grinned. “Precisely. I know I may not be in Midgar for longer than I’d like, but I need this mission completed immediately. I want you to understand, you do not have to contact me to approve of your choice. I trust you implicitly.”

The enormity of that level of trust caused Cissnei to gawk up at him in shock. “S-Sir…”

“Find an officer who will honor what Tuesti’s trying to accomplish. Present your selection to him. He’s extremely intelligent, but at times extremely naive. He’ll need someone like you to look out for his best interests.”

Veld hadn’t said “us,” he had said “you,” driving home how much he was depending on her. “I will never refuse an order, sir.”

“But you feel like you’re not up to it?” Veld asked.

Wincing visibly, Cissnei closed her eyes briefly. “I…feel as though I’m not as level-headed as usual.”

His face still gentle, he waved for her to continue. “Is there perhaps something you’d like to bring up with me that would ease your mind?”

Tseng had tried his best to replace Veld, but surely no one ever could. Her face softening, Cissnei shifted in her chair and slowly pulled out her ID from her pocket. “I…I have depended on Shinra for everything…” she said gently.

“If there’s something you don’t want to talk about, I will never force you,” he reminded her. “Feel free to skip any details you like.”

“You already know when I was first taken in by Shinra, I was not considered my correct gender,” she said in a low voice, tapping her ID on her knuckles. “To think…Shinra has the best technology available, they can change nearly anything in a person…but getting just a…just a simple name changed was next to impossible…”

Sympathetically, Veld half-smiled. “Shinra has always been very fond of its records. I’m aware of how difficult it can be to change any of them.”

“I…before you and I even met, I felt comfortable in my skin finally…forever…but every time I look at this ID, I…” She frowned at it bitterly. “Every time I had to deal with accounting, HR, medical…It was always such a fight. I think…I think it’s one of the reasons why I loved being a Turk . You gave me the first name that ever sounded like my name. I had a name I could use any time, and no one…ever questioned what I gave them. No one had any reason to ask, to pry, to demand I justify it. I…gave up on trying to make it official. It almost became a little game, having this secret that no one who mattered to me knew. ‘Cissnei’s not my real name,’ I’d say…”

Veld said nothing, calmly waiting for her to continue. His presence was soothing, the closest to a real parent she’d ever known, and never expecting her to be or give more than what she could handle. 

Her smile growing pained, Cissnei looked away. “But then…then you took that away from us.”

“Us? You mean from you.”

Her lips tightened. “…None of the others care about code names. I don’t even think they care about suddenly being SpecOps.”

“I think you’re mistaking any conscious effort on their part for apathy. I believe they do. I do,” he admitted. “I’ve been a Turk for nearly forty years. Do you think it’s easy for me to make that decision?”

Feeling childish, Cissnei’s gaze remained on her lap. “Of course not. B-But does it change who you are when you look in the mirror?” she whispered bitterly. “Does it make you feel like something fundamental is being taken?”

“Is that how it feels?”

“Of course it does!” she snapped in frustration, turning back to the table to lean her head in her hands. “And I hate that it does. I’m me. I’m me, and it feels so right, and being anything else would…!”  How poorly she could gather her thoughts only made her more frazzled. “Now what do I do…?” she groaned.

Veld silently planted a finger on the ID laying in front of her. He eased it to himself, and her head snapped up as she nearly snatched it back by reflex. However, a sharp arch of Veld’s eyebrow caused her to sink back in the chair. He studied the photo and information on the card, turning it several times in his left hand, causing the daylight from above to send flickers of reflection along the walls. Then a green hue emanated from his palm and the card instantly warped and the smell of burning plastic rose.

“It’s a pity how much damage the Shinra building has taken,” he said grimly. “So many records have been destroyed. I’m sorry all of yours were lost. There’s no choice but to redraw up everything. Birth certificates, adoption notices, perhaps even any records of department changes or medical records.”

As he casually tossed the useless plastic into the meeting room’s waste bin, Cissnei’s face lit up. “W-Wh…you’d do that?”

“There’s no choice,” he said, a dark grin spreading across his lips and shifting his many scars. “We have to make sure you’ll be getting your paycheck, after all. It’s quite a burden on archives though, I suppose I’ll have to make some requests personally before I leave.” 

A crushing weight released from her, Cissnei jumped to her feet and flung her arms around Veld’s shoulders. “Chief…Chief, I…Thank you!”

With a soft, rumbling chuckle, Veld patted her shoulder. “If I didn’t believe in the power of a name, I wouldn’t be asking our team to change ours. Since all of your records were lost…I’ll need you to provide what you remember. Is that acceptable?”

Squeezing him tighter, she laughed as she buried her face in his suit coat. “Y-Yes, sir. I can do that.”

Easing her back from him gently, Veld smiled softly at her. “Now. Agent Tian. This is very important. Do you remember your name? Or do you need a little time?”

Blushing deeply, Cissnei held her hands in front of herself shyly. “It…It’s the strangest thing…You gave me a codename that was identical to my real one,” she whispered. “It was a good thing, too…nothing else has ever sounded so right.”

His smile growing, he patted her shoulders. “One hell of a coincidence.”

“I always thought so too,” she giggled.

“I’ll make sure everything is taken care of before I leave, Agent Cissnei Tian.”

Taking a firm step back, Cissnei straightened and gave him a crisp salute. “Thank you, Chief. The mission is in good hands.”

“I know it is, Cissnei,” he said. “I am an excellent judge of character as well. You should know that, Cissnei.”

The way that he was repeating her name, he was doing it on purpose, and she couldn’t be happier, like she felt when she was officially weaned off treatments for good. She was a whole person, completely. “I’m proud to be a part of SpecOps, sir.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Cissnei.”