Final Fantasy VII: Reflections - Book 1: Descent

TWO

Time passed, the weeks and months going by as they always have a way of doing, and while I grew more accustomed to working at Shinra, it always felt like there was something not quite right about the place. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, though. Cait sometimes came to see me, but often I was alone in my little cubicle. The ones that were on either side of me never did get occupied, and I wondered about that at first. But then I realized Reeve must have had something to do with it. It made Cait's visits less noticeable and less prone to being overheard. I sometimes felt like I was the only person on the floor, but it was nice to know he and I could talk freely, too.

Whenever I was on my breaks, I took to sketching out designs for all manner of different guns and bombs and other weapons—the more outlandish, the better. The war with Wutai had finally ended earlier in the year, but there were always monsters prowling around the badlands and creeping into the slums. Fortunately, none ever seemed to make it up to the plate itself. I was glad I didn't have to live down under it with the constant threat of those things over my shoulder. At least, that was how I had felt in those days.

I knew about weapons because of my father. It was one of the only things we could talk about, one of the only interests we shared, even if our motivations for it were vastly different. He lived for his power, and I could tell that even back then. During the war, he had often overseen things from Junon, Shinra's military city far south of here. I remember going there once when I was little and seeing the soldiers on parade. It was one of the only times that I've ever left Midgar. I'd love to go visit more places if I can. There's so much I want to see.

For me, the weapons were about keeping everyone safe, protecting those important to me, and that's why I started designing them. I didn't know then just what it would get me into, both at Shinra and also later on as well. If I had, I never would have done it. Watching your dreams being twisted into something murderous and terrible is something you don't ever forget, trust me.

I was up on the 60th floor again one day with some of my drawings spread out on the table I was having lunch at when I heard the clacking of high heels on the green marble floor behind me. I turned around to see a woman in a blood red slip dress and matching shoes leaning over my shoulder to look at the drawings, her blond hair pulled back into a short tuft with long bangs swept to one side.

"Is there something I can do for you?" I asked.

Her blue eyes narrowed as she folded her arms across her chest. "Is that how you address your superiors, young lady? Stand up!"

I swallowed and did as she asked. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

"Save it, girl. You're Heidegger's little whelp, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded.

She tapped her finger against her arm. Her nails were painted with dark red polish. "I thought so. Do you know who I am?"

I shook my head. "No, ma'am. I don't."

"Hmph!" she fumed. "I can see your father hasn't bothered to teach you very much about the company. But he did mention your interest in weapons design to me. I am Vera Scarlet, Director of Shinra's Weapons Development Division."

I reached out my hand. "Jessica Heidegger, ma'am."

"Well, at least you have manners," Scarlet took it. Her grip was like iron. "So it seems you're not a total loss."

"Thanks... I guess," I winced as she let go.

She frowned. "Not much of a spine, though. We'll have to work on that, I suppose. Don't let anyone talk down to you, Jessica. I don't. They try and I slap them down. Hard."