"SOLDIERs are remnants of the past," the young president of Shinra had declared with determination on the glorious day of inauguration in order to open a new era for the enterprise. A new vision, a new regime... new, new, new... to arrive at the doorstep of the 'Promised Land.'

Wasn't the Promised Land also the ancient artifact? A double entendre. Smart, you chuckled to yourself as your hand loosely slung your sword across your back. After the series of desertions of First Class SOLDIERs, the reported demise of Sephiroth, and the missing Zack...

Bloody hell, simple as that. Or, f—

You grimly walked down the secret stairs that linked to the slums, the underplates of Midgar, where residents above the plates despised and contemned them, calling them filthy and depraved. Loads of bullshits, those goddamn entitled mother—

"Why do I have to be on patrol again?" you said into the radio.

"Well, technically, only you and I are left, my friend," the other SOLDIER on the other end of the radio laughed good-naturedly. You sighed, looking around at the quite fascinating scenery: the blinding light casting from the column where the gigantic, artificial spotlights were studded to imitate the natural sunlight above. The residents, so cheerful and resilient, bustled and rustled to go on with their day, despite the poverty and dim prospects of their lives. Home, my home, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"Whatever, Kunsel," said you, laughing right back at him.

Then, a series of incessant taps on your shoulder. What? You opened your eyes to regard the random girl with a basket of yellow flowers. You raised an eyebrow at such a rare commodity—a basket full of flowers... in Midgar?

"Hello, hello?" The girl continued.

"Hello," you greeted back.

"You... have the eyes of someone I knew," she said, gazing up at you curiously.

"Ah... Someone you knew? Most SOLDIERs have these eyes—" Your sentence was cut off as the girl stretched out her hand: a flower...? "Here," she said. "A token of our acquaintance!"