Genesis Rhapsodos does not trouble himself with his detractors.

He is far above such petty squabbles. Ever since his first encounter with the poetry of LOVELESS, he had seen himself as one of the great heroes of this world. He was destined for far greater than any other. Only his companions, Sephiroth and Angeal, were fit to stand beside him. With their help, the trio would find their purpose beyond the cold, pristine walls of Shinra's headquarters.

The adaptation of LOVELESS' story into a widely successful play only further cemented its truth for him. Who else could its story be about but him and his allies? The audience wasn't cheering for characters in a story, they were cheering for him. Even if they weren't truly aware of it, they could feel it in their hearts. That much he was sure of.

So, who was this rowdy little civilian who thought it their Goddess-given duty to pester him, to find fault with his very being? He couldn't escape them. Whether it be during public appearances, fan meetups, or online forums even mentioning his name, they were there. Going by the online alias "RhapsoDUD" (very clever, very amusing. He definitely did not complain indignantly to Angeal about his anti-fan for an hour), they always had something to say about him. And it was never anything kind.

Seriously, where did they get off, criticizing his every move? He wasn't sure if they held that same distaste for his fellow Firsts and Shinra as a whole, or if it was just a him thing. Maybe this was one of Sephiroth or Angeal's more... unruly fans. The possibilities were as endless as they were frustrating.

And yet, he found himself inextricably tied to this stranger. This adversary, who ought to be no more than a footnote in his story, had him entranced. Rarely did he ever encounter someone so wholly dedicated to disparaging him. He had all but memorized their face from the many times he had spotted them jeering him from the crowd during public meetings. Even if they hated him, he could not deny that there was a spark there; true passion in their eyes when they glared at him like he was the worst thing to ever happen to Midgar.

Perhaps he found himself envious of that determination. Genesis knew his place in the world, knew that he was a vital player in Gaia's future. But he had not yet discerned what he had to do to truly become the planet's savior. As it stood, he was a hero without his oracle, without his guiding light. He could only do so much like this.

But his unnamed—he was not calling them RhapsoDUD—detractor? They had a goal and the steps in place to see it through. A part of him yearned for that certainty, that clearly defined path to follow. But even without it being given, he would find it. If he must, he would create it. And first on his list was to do something about this troublesome critic. He would consider it the first of his many challenges on the path to his final purpose: to win over this person and demonstrate his merit as one of the Goddess' chosen champions.

How convenient, then, that he could spot a familiar figure in the slowly dissipating crowd that had been congratulating him after his return from a particularly grueling mission. He came out unscathed, naturally, as any First should. But it was no walk in the park, even for someone of his caliber. When he finally caught their gaze, he almost relished the way their expression darkened. He couldn't stop himself from approaching them once his fans and the press had cleared out.

"You've never been so bold as to come so close," Genesis purred, eyes crinkled as he gave them a knowing smile. Of course, there was all of the anger and resentment that simmered underneath from their constant tirades against his character. But what burned brighter was his curiosity, his intrigue. What motivated them to pursue him in such a way? "To what do I owe the pleasure, my friend? Have you come to ridicule me? Surely, you've begun to grow weary of this thankless endeavor by now."

This could go on forever, for all he cared. After all, what was a hero without his trials?