Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > Center of the World
0545 hrs, Monday
Out of the corner of his eye, Zack can see the watery sunrise glinting off the waves. The sky is more blue than grey by now, but the loading dock is in the deep, clammy shade of Upper Junon. Cloud and the other blue-costumed regular are whispering nervously, huddled close to fend off the chilly fog rising off the bay. They are impatient and excited in the face of their first real mission. Zack folds his arms over his chest. He isn’t cold so much as damp, in the insidious humidity of early-August Junon, but he’s fighting off a shiver all the same.
Cloud’s sudden hush draws Zack back to his surroundings. They stand at attention as Sephiroth strides onto the dock, just over two minutes late. Zack can see he isn’t pleased; he wonders which sorry excuse for a bureaucrat held him up. The General’s is mouth is set in a thin, hard line.
“At ease,” he snaps.
He is ruthless and efficient in this as in all things. He outlines their itinerary-- by boat to Del Sol, then the Cosmo Canyon route by truck to Nibelheim. Estimated arrival is in three days, 1900 hours Nibel time. He doesn’t take questions.
Sephiroth isn’t the type for “hurry up and wait”. He leans toward “hurry up or I’ll leave you here,“ Zack thinks. Departure is at 0600. They hurry.
It’s just as well. Cloud’s already looking pale, and Zack’s been breathing shallow since he got to the dock. Midgar’s pervasive brown smog has desensitized him to the smell of the garbage floating just off-shore, but the smell of fish, of rot, bothers him. He’s eager for the fresh breeze over open water.
Out of the corner of his eye, Zack can see the watery sunrise glinting off the waves. The sky is more blue than grey by now, but the loading dock is in the deep, clammy shade of Upper Junon. Cloud and the other blue-costumed regular are whispering nervously, huddled close to fend off the chilly fog rising off the bay. They are impatient and excited in the face of their first real mission. Zack folds his arms over his chest. He isn’t cold so much as damp, in the insidious humidity of early-August Junon, but he’s fighting off a shiver all the same.
Cloud’s sudden hush draws Zack back to his surroundings. They stand at attention as Sephiroth strides onto the dock, just over two minutes late. Zack can see he isn’t pleased; he wonders which sorry excuse for a bureaucrat held him up. The General’s is mouth is set in a thin, hard line.
“At ease,” he snaps.
He is ruthless and efficient in this as in all things. He outlines their itinerary-- by boat to Del Sol, then the Cosmo Canyon route by truck to Nibelheim. Estimated arrival is in three days, 1900 hours Nibel time. He doesn’t take questions.
Sephiroth isn’t the type for “hurry up and wait”. He leans toward “hurry up or I’ll leave you here,“ Zack thinks. Departure is at 0600. They hurry.
It’s just as well. Cloud’s already looking pale, and Zack’s been breathing shallow since he got to the dock. Midgar’s pervasive brown smog has desensitized him to the smell of the garbage floating just off-shore, but the smell of fish, of rot, bothers him. He’s eager for the fresh breeze over open water.
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