You climbed the stairs, nearly flying as you took three at a time.

Your hand gripped the handle and opened the door; you inhaled deeply, held it for a moment, and exhaled slowly.

The familiar sight unfolded before your eyes as you entered the virtual simulation room.

Your hair fluttered behind you as the wind swept and enveloped your form; you raised your arms to shield your eyes before the wind ceased its roar.

You lowered your arms and squinted your eyes as you watched your three SOLDIER friends.

"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,

"We seek it thus, and take to the sky,

"Ripples form on the water's surface The wandering soul knows no rest," the fiery-haired man recited in his calm, melodious voice.

"LOVELESS Act I," the silver-haired man hummed, opening a pair of clear emeralds; the cat-like slits glinted with amusement.

The former man snorted softly and snapped the book shut between his fingers. He hummed back, "You remembered."

The silvery locks danced lightly in the wind, glistening under the artificial lights as the General countered with a smirk, "How can I not?" His slender forefinger tapped his head twice, emphasising his point. "When you've beaten it into my head?"

"Don't take Sephiroth lightly," said the last man warningly, who seemed to be the most levelheaded and down-to-earth amongst these three particularly brilliant SOLDIERs; he was warning his childhood friend, Genesis, who could be short-tempered. He had carefully put the book aside, far away from the impending havoc, as though it were the most precious jewel.

Genesis snorted, rather beautifully, though evidently offended by his childhood friend's thoughtful warning. "Duly noted, Angeal."

Then, Genesis and Angeal charged forward; their towering heights and gigantic frames notwithstanding, their feet were as light as feathers.

You jerked your head to the side to see the man awaiting his challengers with such calmness—a calmness induced only by certainty that he knew and confidence that he knew he would remain undefeated.

You squeezed your eyes shut and lowered your head as the three swords—each of different shapes, lengths, and widths—clashed in cacophony, blindingly reflecting the fragments of light.

"Is that the best you can do?" Sephiroth scoffed, albeit fondly. All he needed was one slash of his trusted sword. It almost undulated fluidly, like a whip. The other two were forced to retreat. One smiled in resignation, fully expecting this moment. "All hail Sephiroth, eh?" Angeal muttered. Meanwhile, the other did not take it kindly. "Angeal, stay back. I'll take Sephiroth alone." Genesis stepped forward, unleashing his rapier once more. Its blade shone with flame resembling its owner's ferocity.

"Genesis..." Angeal shook his head in trepidation. He knew his childhood friend's distorted obsession with the hero. Once, it had been a small spark ignited in the child's pure heart. Then, it had grown into aspiration. Now, it was a fire—that fire Genesis held dearly, that fire that consumed him without remorse. That was the fire that seized the core of his heart and defiled it with yearning, envy, and bitter despair. "The world needs a new hero," was all Angeal would get from Genesis's sneer. It was a warning from him, telling him not to intervene.

"You may come and try, Genesis," Sephiroth said with a benign smile, which taunted the agitated man even further. "So smug... I, however, wonder... for how long?" snarled Genesis, leaping into the air. Sephiroth stood still, without flinching or blinking; he watched as his lone opponent approached with the sharp tip of the rapier. Clank, clank, clank, a series of noises—blades striking each other—reverberated screechingly. With a grit of his teeth, Genesis leaped once more, charging orbs of Firaga.

"Enough!" Angeal shielded himself from the incessant assaults with his Buster Sword, which he had dared not use, lest it wear and tear. The other two SOLDIERs halted, looking at each other with bated breath. The tension was palpable, as if ready to be slain by one of their swords.