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year 5, quarter 3
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Asael took a larger gulp of his champagne this time, and Genesis followed suit by draining his second glass. By this time, he was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol setting in, and everything had taken on a pleasant sort of numbness. He was about to suggest another drink--he doubted he could talk the man into a dance--but Asael made it clear that he was looking to leave. Genesis was a tad disappointed--while he had begun their encounter suspicious of their shared Jenova cells, it had actually been rather nice to meet someone new from Gaia who also had reason to hate Shinra. He wouldn’t try to persuade him to stay though. Again, if the man was anything like Sephiroth, then he would be too obstinate to stick around a social setting longer than necessary.
“Ugh. You and everyone else I know,” Genesis said with a roll of his eyes when Asael pointed out his dislike of crowds. Still, he paused in consideration when the man asked how he could find him again if he wanted to talk more. It was a fair question. It didn’t sound like Asael knew anyone else from their world after all, and it wasn’t as if cell phones were a thing in Torensten. They would have to meet in person.
“Here,” Genesis said after a moment, rooting around in the pockets of his red suit jacket. He eventually emerged with a pen--the better for underlining passages in Loveless--but he didn’t have any paper on him that wasn’t connected to a book, and ripping even the flyleaf out of a book felt blasphemous.
Gripped by a sudden humor, Genesis grasped Asael’s arm instead and scrawled the address for Zack’s apartment across the palm of his hand. “That’s where I live in case you ever want to talk more.” He hadn’t gotten the impression that Asael would be interested in anything more than that, but he’d drank enough that he didn’t mind giving the man a slight wink anyway as he leaned back against the bar. “Have a nice night then. ‘Even if the morrow is barren of promises, nothing shall forestall my return.’“
The man seemed content to merely eye him in suspicion for a moment, but when he finally spoke, it was with a rolling accent that Genesis wasn’t able to place. Unsurprising really, since it was impossible to say whether the man was even from Zephon or whether he was from some far corner of the multiverse like Genesis himself was. Regardless, he rather liked the brunette man’s voice. It somehow completed the package by making him sound quick-witted in addition to his handsome appearance. Whether he was actually anything more than a striking face remained to be seen, of course.
“Oh, I wouldn’t rely on me much if you’re looking for candor,” Genesis said as he continued to inspect the iron bars separating them. “But you’re right. I’m rather new to this whole affair.” He could have laughed at the man’s warning—he knew very well that he’d need to tread carefully here. X was certainly not a person to be crossed lightly, but Genesis didn’t intend to do anything blatantly against her yet. Still, he couldn’t resist the ironic smile that rose to his lips when the man asked if he were fond of treachery.
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation and your eternal slumber,” he quoted fondly before tilting his head as the man finally rose to his feet with a mild stretch. It seemed that he’d finally decided to make this a face to face conversation. It was about time, really. Genesis hadn’t removed his mask for nothing.
The prisoner started to explain what he had stolen, and Genesis felt his eyes light up in interest. Bahamut’s eyes? Perhaps they were quicker along to summoning the great dragon than X had led him to believe. Genesis wasn’t really surprised if he'd been misled. She was no fool. If she had any ounce of observation skills, she had probably seen that his interest in their operation had far more to do with the summon’s power than with any pious devotion or scholarly pursuit. There was only one goddess that Genesis served, after all, and he’d seen no trace of her here.
“Oh yes, pity that,” Genesis waved aside the man’s obvious concerns about what went on in their altar room. He had never personally stepped inside it yet, but he could guess as to what kind of rituals were performed. It hardly bothered him though. Genesis generally had a hard time caring about things that didn’t immediately affect him, and he was far more interested in these eyes at the moment.
“I imagine we were livid. I’m amazed you’re still alive,” he said with a slight laugh. “Luckily, I can guess as to their use.” He shifted his position a bit to support the wall near the makeshift cell instead. “I take it you were simply in it for the gil?” That somehow made this situation even better, and Genesis glanced down at his silver dragon mask a bit thoughtfully before he spoke again. “Tell me, what do you know of Bahamut?”
Genesis finally had a name to go with the man’s face--or mask at any rate. He still had no idea what Asael actually looked like beyond his short silver hair and the shape of his jaw that reminded him thoroughly of Sephiroth. It was still unsettling to speak to someone so similar and yet so different from his friend. It renewed his suspicion that Hojo must have injected Asael with Sephiroth’s cells as he had Zack and Cloud. Still, Genesis felt as if he must be missing some piece of the puzzle. Zack and that cadet had never resembled Sephiroth so thoroughly after all. Something must have been different here.
“A.T.” Genesis mused aloud as he ran the initials against the people that he’d known in Shinra. He couldn’t come up with any matches upon a quick reflection, though that wasn’t really surprising. It was likely someone particular to Asael’s life after all. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,” he toasted instead. “I hope you manage to find this mysterious backer of yours someday.”
Genesis did notice that Asael had finally taken a sip from his untouched glass of champagne, which he was pleased to see. Perhaps he was finally loosening up and having some fun. If he was as close to Sephiroth in temperament as he was in appearance, then Genesis assumed that must have been a rare thing for Asael.
“Has this friend of yours suffered in the same way as I have?” Genesis was unable to contain a small, unattractive snort before he took a sip of his drink. It was almost as if Asael could read his mind and see the impossible situation that he was in right now. It truly was difficult to placate Sephiroth’s need to know what had happened to them without using the ‘Jenova’ word. Considering the spiral that it had sent the silver-haired man into before, Genesis had no intentions of repeating that mistake.
“Very similar, actually. He has a touch of amnesia as well, though not as severe as yours.” Genesis confided as he slid his empty glass across the bar counter for a refill. “And of course he’s handling it nauseatingly well. As if the ‘great General Sephiroth’ would be capable of anything else.” The last part was said mockingly. While he had great fondness for his friend, there was still quite a bit of jealousy and resentment that lingered, even if Sephiroth couldn’t recall what had happened between them. Genesis suspected that it would fade in time, but for now, his feelings were what they were.
“Ah. Shinra is rather fond of declaring people dead when they aren’t,” he clarified for Asael’s benefit as he received a fresh drink. They had declared Sephiroth as killed in action after the Nibelheim incident after all, so he felt that he should at least clear that misunderstanding up in case the man remembered that tidbit. Truthfully, he had been a tad reluctant to drop his friend’s name due to Sephiroth’s final breakdown, but the odds that Asael had been one of the few survivors of Nibelheim were slim. No, like anyone else, if he remembered Sephiroth at all, then it would probably be as a fallen war hero.
Oh, he didn’t mind being called in to deal with a threat necessarily, but he’d come all the way out here only to be told that they’d already handled the problem. Ugh. Why even call him in the first place if it clearly wasn’t serious? He had half a mind to complain to X herself, but he doubted that she was even present in the underground right now. He’d been told that the prisoner was locked up in the west end after all, and if Genesis had learned anything of X so far, it was that she was nothing if not efficient. The man would likely already be decomposing in a river if she were around. Unless she wanted something from the thief alive, of course.
It was the second possibility that drew Genesis’ curiosity.
There were two guards at the end of the hallway, but if they were alarmed at Genesis’ approach, it was only for the black wing trailing out behind him. The silver dragon mask that he wore mirrored the two that they had after all, so while they stopped him, they didn’t seem to be suspicious that he shouldn’t be there. Being X’s new favorite had its perks, it seemed.
“I’m to try my hand at him seeing as you lot haven’t had any results yet,” he said dismissively, with a dramatic wave of his hand. It was a pure bluff based on speculation of course, but it seemed that he’d guessed correctly. After a litany of Loveless quotes to follow his explanation, they seemed exasperated enough to let him pass. It wasn’t as if he and the prisoner were going anywhere anyway.
Genesis approached the makeshift cell, scoffing a bit at how the metal bars had been placed over a doorframe. Amateur work. Genesis himself had managed to install an entire cell block in an underground cave, so this room was really a poor showing with all of the cult's resources “So this is what passes for a cell here? I had wondered,” Genesis mused aloud, trailing one finger over the iron as he peered inside to lay eyes on the thief. The view wasn’t what he’d expected.
Styled hair--if a bit rumpled--fell into piercing hazel eyes. The man sat in a casual position that suggested he was refusing to show weakness, and Genesis’ eyes drifted from the jewelry at his ears to his tight-fitting vest and pants.
No one had told him the thief was handsome.
“Ripples form on the water’s surface. The wandering soul knows no rest,” he said with a laugh as he reached up to remove the dragon mask from his face. He flicked his red hair behind him to smooth it back before leaning casually against the cell door, his mask held under one arm.
“Seeing as you’re not anonymous, it hardly seems fair if I get to be,” he explained with a faint smirk, watching the man with some interest. “So you must be the thief that has them so up in arms. I’d be curious to hear what you stole. They appear to be keeping it rather on thedown-low.”
The silver-haired man responded that he wouldn’t know if he had been in Soldier or not, and Genesis pursed his lips slightly in response. “A touch of mako poisoning perhaps? That’s no good.” Unsurprising, however. He remembered all too well the comatose blond cadet that Zack had dragged around following their escape. No one fled from Hojo’s clutches unscathed.
While he was sympathetic to the man’s plight, Genesis wasn’t particularly interested in the problems of strangers. However, his attention was captivated at once by the language that he used to describe his memory loss. “Fragmented by the hand that the fates have dealt to me, I suppose.”
“Oh, I rather like that,” Genesis mused, pressing one hand to his chest as he took a languid sip of champagne. “My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains. The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.” Loveless, Act IV—or so he could have told him. Genesis could have also told him the page number that the quote appeared on in each edition under which Loveless had been published, but he didn’t want the man to think him obsessed. Being obsessed was for the non-committed, after all. Genesis was passionate.
The stranger went on to share that he hadn’t managed to find anyone he recognized yet and that he wasn’t even certain that the name he was using was real. Now that was a pitiable state to be in. Genesis offered him a few scant words of encouragement in return for the man’s earlier poetry. “There seem to be more and more of us all the time. Perhaps a familiar face will pop in someday.” He offered him a faint smirk before attempting to lighten the mood a bit. “Assuming you aren’t looking for a fresh start of course. I suppose not knowing anyone leaves you entirely free to follow your own pursuits.”
“Even something as small as a name may help me remember the details of my life.”
Genesis considered that for a moment before tilting back the remainder of his champagne and turning to face the man seriously. “Do you remember the stage play Loveless?”
It was probably in bad form to tease someone with memory loss, but Genesis was really only half joking. If he were the one with memory troubles, then he was certain that nothing would have brought him back to himself so much as hearing that name. He waited a moment to gauge the man’s reaction before laughing softly and setting his empty glass down at the bar.
“Alright, let’s bend the rules of this anonymous event then. Genesis Rhapsodos, though I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Perhaps it was best for him that his companion had amnesia. Genesis had launched several attacks on Midgar and the Shinra headquarters itself, so he doubted that public perception of him was nearly as glowing as it had been during his days as a First-Class Soldier.
“And the name that you believe to be yours? Truthfully, you look so much like a friend of mine that I nearly mistook you for him.” He felt like Sephiroth as well, though the initial shock of that had worn off enough for Genesis to consider the likely source. Zack and that blond cadet had been infused with Sephiroth’s cells rather than Jenova cells directly, hadn’t they? Perhaps this stranger was much the same as them.
I love that Genesis is from too early to know about the Sephiroth clones
Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess
“They’re of no importance to me.”
Genesis threw his head back and laughed before raising his glass towards the mysterious silver-haired man. “I’ll drink to that. We’ll get along just fine then.” Truthfully, Genesis loathed Shinra for what they’d done to him, though he didn’t sense the same passion coming from the man next to him. He may have just been practicing caution—for all he knew, Genesis could have been a Shinra operative after all—but Genesis didn’t assume that to be the case. He suspected that the man felt towards Shinra exactly as he had said—apathetic. Now that was curious. He clearly had a sizeable dose of Jenova cells, but perhaps he didn’t curse his fate as much as Genesis did.
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation and your eternal slumber,” he quoted before he raised the glass of champagne to his lips. It was perhaps his favorite line in all of Loveless since it described his own personal journey so perfectly, and he had never been able to resist quoting it whenever Shinra was mentioned. It was just a pity that he had been transported to Zephon almost immediately after his degradation had been cured. He would have liked to witness Shinra’s inevitable fall personally, but that didn’t seem to be what fate had in store for him.
Genesis grimaced a bit when the silver-haired man turned the question back around to him by pointing out the likelihood that someone who was transported to Zephon like them still aligned with Shinra.
“I have the same suspicion, but you needn’t fear that from me. In case my earlier toast was too subtle, I’d burn their headquarters straight to the ground if I could.” He had tried as a matter of fact, but he wasn’t looking to scare the stranger off quite yet with that little tidbit. Maybe if the conversation got too dull by the end, then he’d share the tale of his ill-fated rebellion, but they still seemed to have a lot to learn from each other before that point.
“Surely you and I are not the only two with past ties to Shinra who now reside on Zephon?”
“I take it you haven’t come across anyone else yet then,” Genesis murmured, as he swirled his champagne a bit contemplatively. “I live with two others from Gaia, but you needn’t fear their allegiance to Shinra either. They’re in the same boat as the two of us, as it were.”
It was the first time that he had alluded so directly to Jenova, and he glanced over at the masked man to gauge his reaction before continuing with his own innocent question.
“Were you in Soldier, by any chance?” Genesis knew of no others who had been experimented on with Jenova cells by the Science Department, but that didn’t mean that he’d put it past them to use civilians. Still, even Hollander hadn’t been aware of any others besides Sephiroth, Angeal, and himself (at least, until Hojo had gotten his hands on Zack and that blond cadet). And yet here was irrefutable evidence that a sixth subject existed. It made Genesis wonder if something had changed since he’d woken up here.
Ugh, the man even spoke like Sephiroth. He accepted the offer to have a drink with Genesis in as few words as possible, and Genesis felt his eye twitch slightly at the familiar dismissive noise that he made. The resemblance to his friend was slightly uncanny, and he found himself looking the stranger over before responding. It was hard to tell what sort of facial expression he had behind his mask, but it didn’t feel like the silver-haired man had accepted his offer purely for the excellent company. It wasn’t hard to guess the reason why though. The man clearly had some amount of Jenova cells in him, so he likely felt that irritating pull the same as Genesis had. The only question was if the man knew enough to be dangerous.
“Excellent.” Genesis held out one arm towards the bar in a ridiculous flourish that always annoyed Sephiroth. “Champagne, then? Unless you prefer something stronger.” Genesis certainly thought that he might after this.
He led the way through the crowd, his large winged costume easily parting the sea of people in front of them, though he grimaced slightly whenever someone brushed against his actual exposed wing. He didn’t particularly like having the man at his back, but he at least expected some warning if he intended foul play. He couldn’t have had much materia on him without any visible weapons and armor, after all. Genesis himself had left behind much of his usual equipment, though he was sorely regretting that now.
“After you.” Genesis gestured to the masked man that he was free to tell the bartender his order first (that was only fair when he had been the one to invite him after all) and he was quick to acquire a new glass of champagne for himself afterwards. The liquid fizzed and bubbled near the rim of his glass, and he found himself eyeing it speculatively before he took a slow sip. The normally light liquid felt heavier than normal as it passed through his lips.
“Ripples form on the water’s surface. The wandering soul knows no rest,” he quoted as he swirled his glass before raising his eyes to look at the silver-haired man. “So tell me. Had you already left Shinra before you woke up in this world?”
Genesis had never been one to beat around the bush. If this man was anything like Sephiroth, then he might appreciate getting down to business too.
Genesis was beyond irked to find himself attending the masquerade alone. Two mysterious invitations had been delivered in the dead of night to their small apartment, and while Sephiroth had been suspicious and reluctant to attend, Genesis had practically swooned at the poetry written in gold, cursive lettering. Whoever was throwing this masquerade clearly had exquisite taste, and he refused to hear a word against them from Sephiroth.
Genesis had spent the next few days visiting the shops to try on different outfits and masks (he had to find the best combination after all) and he had forced Sephiroth to come along and do the same. It had been more than a successful trip in his eyes. Genesis had found something perfect for himself, and he thought that he had pulled together a black and silver piece that would have suited Sephiroth beautifully, so he couldn’t believe it when the man had backed out at the last second.
“My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains,” Genesis complained to the doorman, as he had been for the past two minutes. “Can you believe how rude Sephiroth is? I couldn’t even invite someone else on such short notice! What does he expect me to do?”
The short, masked man looked slightly nervous by Genesis’ dramatic hand gestures, and he kept glancing at the line that had formed behind them. “Sir, I really just need your invitation…”
“Fine! Take two! It’s not like I have any need for the second one.” With a huff, Genesis tossed both pieces of parchment up in the air and strolled inside the marble archway before he could be stopped. There was an intricate courtyard that he had to pass through on the way to the main building, and while the red-haired man glanced at the various hedges and blooms surrounding a large fountain, he didn’t bother to stray from the path. Angeal likely would have insisted that they inspect each individual plant had he been there with him, but that was a train of thought that Genesis refused to go down right now. He had come here to have a good time tonight, not to dwell on the past.
Finally stepping into the foyer, classical music reached his ears, and he stopped to look a bit appreciatively at the dance floor. People clothed in every shade and variety of fabric swirled around the room together, while others lingered on the outskirts to sip champagne or watch the orchestra. It was a different experience to see everyone’s face hidden behind a layer of feathers and sequins, and Genesis chuckled to himself as he moved around the room to acquire his own glass of champagne. He had gone a bit over the top with his own outfit, choosing a blood-red tailcoat with his one wing exposed, and a false black wing sewn to the other shoulder. He had hoped for an avenging angel impression, though he supposed that it was up to the other guests on whether he’d succeeded or not.
As Genesis sipped on the bubbly liquid that he’d acquired from a waiter, he was just considering trying to find a partner to dance with, when a nauseous feeling swept across him so quickly that he nearly dropped his glass. That infuriating tug. Someone else with ties to Shinra was here.
He hadn’t known the pull of Jenova much on Zephon—from Sephiroth certainly and a weaker version from Zack—so Genesis was immediately annoyed that Sephiroth had clearly decided to attend after all. How he had even gotten inside without an invitation was beyond him, but he intended to go give the silver-haired man a piece of his mind. Slamming his empty glass down on a table, Genesis pushed his way across the dance floor as he looked around the flurry of masks for his friend. He grew more and more frustrated as the minutes passed, and it was more on instinct than anything when he finally reached out and grabbed a dark-clothed man by the wrist.
“There you are! Why would you tell me that you aren’t coming when-?"Blue eyes. Not green. Frowning, Genesis glanced between the man’s face and his silver hair that was far too short to be Sephiroth’s before he released the man and took a step back. "...Ah. My mistake.”
Even as he said the words out loud, Genesis wasn’t sure that he believed them. The stranger felt so much like Sephiroth that it was unnerving. Genesis was certainly no expert with Jenova’s cells—Shinra had deemed him a failure after all—but he was positive that the foreign sensation that he’d noticed was coming from the man in front of him as opposed to someone else in the crowd.
Something was wrong here. A slightly wintry smile crossed his face, and he spread his arms out in invitation. “Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,” he quoted Loveless innocently. “Care to have a drink with me, stranger?"
Genesis raised an eyebrow as Krile explained that Bartz was afraid of heights. She seemed a tad smug while explaining it to him, though he hadn’t the faintest idea as to why. Not that he had any desire to try to delve into the mind of a teenage girl, so he didn’t bother to ask. He was fine with accepting her apparent dislike of him. You couldn’t win them all over, after all.
“Of course he’s afraid of heights,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes. Trust the brunette man to come up with a way to make even this situation endearing. Bartz did seem terrified at the edge of the roof, but before he could address him, Genesis was briefly distracted by the glare that Krile sent him at the end of her explanation. He returned her hostile glance with a friendly smile. He could have been petty in response, but kindness would probably bother her more. If being friends with Sephiroth for more than a decade had taught him anything, it was the best ways to needle someone.
Genesis was a little surprised when his name popped out of Bartz’s mouth, and he frowned slightly when his aid was requested since he could fly. “You must be joking,” he said distastefully, picturing himself lifting sweaty, bleeding people who would cling to him as he carried them to the roof. Nothing sounded less appealing than that. He was prepared to decline, but with his next words, Bartz framed it instead as helping him to be less scared. Genesis stared at him for a moment, slowly crossing his arms as he turned his head to the side. “And who says I care about that? Because I don’t. Care that is.” That was his story at least, and he was sticking to it.
As Bartz prepared to jump off the side, the younger brunette boy next to him went back to curing the wounded while Krile rummaged through her pocket and pulled out a crystal that looked similar to the one that Bartz possessed. Genesis blinked slowly as she changed clothes in a flash of light too, and he made a mental note to try to find one of those Materia later. If nothing else, it would certainly be convenient in the morning to not have to manually change clothing.
Bartz suddenly jumped up at least twenty feet in the air, and Genesis shaded his eyes to watch his progress while whistling under his breath in appreciation. He hadn’t known that he had it in him, but then he hadn’t exactly seen the man’s combat skills the first time that they had met in a dance club. As Bartz came hurtling back towards the ground, a guttural scream escaped him, and Genesis cursed under his breath before rushing forward to the rooftop’s edge.
“Good luck then, team,” he said a bit dryly to Krile and the brown-haired boy before allowing himself to fall backwards off the roof. His wing caught the swell of the wind until he was able to soar underneath of Bartz, grabbing the man under his back and knees and landing on the ground while carrying him bridal style. He probably could have caught him in a way that would have left him more dignity, but really, where was the fun in that?
“My friend, do you fly away now? To a world that abhors you and I? All that awaits you is a somber morrow, no matter where the winds may blow,” he quoted fully before he set him down on his feet. “It’s been quite a while since I was called upon to play the role of the hero,” he added as an afterthought, shooting Bartz a faint smirk as he brushed some of his own hair back from his face. “I'll help you, but I do suggest working on your landings. It helps if you look in front of you rather than at the ground creeping up on you. Oh, and bend your knees upon impact unless you fancy having shattered legs.” With that advice given, he strode forward and scanned the landscape around them for people they could grab. Hopefully Bartz wouldn’t take too much offense that he planned to carry people by the backs of their shirts. He wasn’t about to let people touch him after all.
"If you need any further encouragement to land on your own, then I will drop whoever I'm holding if I have to come help you," he prompted him helpfully before getting to work. It was the sort of harsh reality check he would have given the cadets back when he had been in Soldier, which might have explained why he was rarely called upon to train them as much as Angeal had been. Oh well. Bartz would learn faster that way.
Zack couldn’t remember what had happened between them. Genesis stared at him for a moment, wondering if he was joking, but his face remained serious for a change. Genesis laughed, touching a hand to his forehead at the cosmic joke that this was. Was he really the only person here with all of their memories? It appeared so, because neither of them were treating him like they should. Sephiroth couldn’t remember how their friendship had fizzled and died during Genesis’ efforts to cure his degradation, and Zack couldn’t remember that they hadn’t ended on bad terms. That’s why Sephiroth was acting the same as he always had before Genesis had dropped the ‘Jenova’ word and why Zack was still treating him like his mortal enemy. It was all so laughable.
“I suppose a few years with Hojo will do that to a person’s brain,” Genesis said with a wave of his hand. “I’m happy to fill you in on what happened between us if you so desire.” Genesis couldn’t guarantee it would be the whole story, but it would be enough. Zack didn’t need to know that he’d won their final fight, after all. Until someone remembered otherwise, Genesis was going to do his best to forget that particular humiliation.
Sephiroth started to relay the story of how he’d been attacked near the coast, and Genesis stopped listening closely since he’d heard this part from his friend already. His attention drifted back towards the notebook on the couch where he’d been writing down the entire four act structure of Loveless from memory (along with his own interpretation of Act V of course). He had been so focused on the next line that he was startled out of a near reverie when Sephiroth dropped the same scientist’s name that Genesis had earlier. Hojo. Sephiroth hadn’t yet shared with him that particular theory that he thought that insane man was wandering around somewhere.
“My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salvation, and your eternal slumber,” Genesis mused, falling back onto the middle of the couch with one leg crossed and his arms spread over the top of the couch backing. “Don’t blame me that he’s alive. I would have killed him if not for one insufferable hero.” He gave Zack a slightly pointed look, though Angeal had technically done more to stop him when he had broken into the Shinra building. But that particular line of thought only led to pain, so it was much easier to blame Zack.
“Though I suppose if there is a scientist prowling around, it is likely to be Hojo. In case either of you forgot, I can confirm that Hollander’s dead.” This time, he gave Zack a slightly innocent smile. “I do have to congratulate you for that one. I suppose it almost makes up for stopping me against Hojo.” Hollander had already been half dead from degradation before he had fought Zack, but really, those were just details.
