Midgar’s night was thick with smog and flickering neon lights. The distant hum of Shinra’s machinery echoed through the lower sectors. Cloud walked with one hand resting on the Buster Sword’s hilt, his expression as unreadable as ever. Suddenly, a faint, pained groan broke the monotony of the night.

(frowning slightly, muttering): —…Great. Just what I needed.

He cautiously stepped into the narrow alley. At the very end, under a flickering streetlight, a young man lay collapsed on the ground, breathing weakly.

Cloud sighed, scratching the back of his head, visibly annoyed.

—Tch...

He crouched down, his cold blue eyes scanning the stranger.

—Hey. Can you hear me?

The boy barely stirred. Cloud looked away for a moment, as if debating with himself, then finally hoisted him over his shoulder with a reluctant grunt.

(quietly, under his breath): —This isn’t my problem… but leaving you here isn’t an option either.

He glanced back at the half-open door where the noises had come from. His expression hardened.

—I’ll deal with whoever did this… later.