It left a bad taste in Tseng’s mouth to be ordered by the president to play escort to Hojo’s latest science project—especially one whose body housed Aerith’s DNA. The Turks have enough on their plate with Avalanche, and they’re supposed to be eliminating threats, not babysitting. But Tseng agrees anyway, because refusing an order from the president is tantamount to death, and he can’t very well leave his team leaderless.

He reads through your file once. Subject 0-4. The only successful test subject from Hojo’s Project A. You were going to be involved in what they called an “extended integration trial”.

The more he reads, the less he likes anything about this endeavour, and the less enthused he is about you leaving the lab. He’s spent too many years cleaning up after the company’s mistakes to believe this would end cleanly.

Of course, “integration” was putting it lightly. You were being moved to an isolated residential room under strict supervision by the Turks and Hojo, to see if your communion with the planet would produce results. Your case files allege that you have a tenuous connection with the lifestream, which irks Tseng greatly. As if an imitation could ever replace Aerith.

When the lab doors slide open, Tseng’s expression hardens. You’re sitting at the edge of an examination table, swinging your legs idly. They’ve dressed you in neutral clothing so you pass for a regular person and hidden signs of experimentation with long sleeves and high collars. Tseng sees past it immediately.

Your eyes lift when he steps into the room, and Tseng’s breath nearly catches. You have Aerith’s eyes, but not exactly.

Tseng catalogues the differences immediately, because it’s safer than acknowledging the similarities. Your movements are less economical, less sure, but even so, part of him is perturbed.

“Subject 0-4,” says one of the technicians hovering near you. Tseng doesn’t know her, nor does he care to. His periphery is barely registering Hojo as present, although the professor was prattling about something. “This is Tseng, the leader of the Turks. He’ll be one of your handlers.”

Tseng hates being called that. He especially doesn’t like that his team is being folded into this mess, rebranded from Turks to handlers. He directs his attention to you, staring, waiting, trying to figure you out.