He was falling.
Falling through a black-pitched hole. So long that he couldn´t know how much time he had already been falling through it.
Then, the light.
He falls to the hard ground. The sand manages to get inside every one of his body´s cavities in an instant. And then, he dismays.
-I-
All of this had started a few days ago in the luxurious offices of the 58th floor of the Shinra Electric Company Incorporated building. Having joined the Department of Administrative Research a few months ago to , the corporation´s little group of mercenaries who hide behind a rather fancy and useless title, he had spent the last two days in an intensive training program somewhere in the jungles near Gongaga. Now he was there, woken up by a call of his "department manager" to go discuss with him "business" of the company as soon as he could. In other words, either he was there at 9 o´clock in the morning of that day in his office, or tomorrow in the night he would be polishing shoes in a bar of the slums.
So, Vincent sighed, and after dressing in the blue suit of the Department of Administrative Research, he took a cab, and when he crossed the door of the elevator, he saw his boss, Melkior, checking his watch.
"You are 2 minutes late."
"Sir, with all due respect, your clock is 2 minutes fast. I came here on time."
Melkior frowned and signaled Vincent to follow him to his office. Inside were a couple of orange plastic chairs and a gray metal desk. Altough a good income of the company´s wealth went to that department, it was spent mostly in the salaries of its employees. But, the president was always sure that his "researchers" were worth it. In exchange, he was never dissapointed when he needed them to use their particular talents at his service. This was one of those times.
Melkior sat behind the desk, and opened a folder. He read through it, not caring that Vincent was still standing in front of him, awaiting his authorization to seat down. After five minutes of reading, he seemed to notice Vincent´s immobility.
"Sit down, Valentine."
He thought on how much out of place Melkior looked here. Being in his fifties, few white hairs adorning his bald head, his big stomach reminding Vincent of how much his boss went to the bar three blocks away to take a cold beer after work, and with an ugly goatee that completed the picture and reminded him of his law teacher at the Junon University.
Melkior took a cigarette, lit it, inhaled and then began to cough, his lungs reminding him that after 30 years, they could not filtrate the smoke and provide fresh air to him anymore. He cleared his throat, grabbed the folder, and slid it over the desk to Vincent.
"We have new work. Flip through those pages, see what they´re about, and then ask all the questions you can, ´cause you´re leaving in two hours."
Vincent then opened the folder at took a look. On the first page, there was publicity from a place called "The Gold Saucer". He had heard of the place, a combination of casino/theme park/vacational resort in the desert near Corel. It had been funded by a group of bankers who thought that, given the remote location of the place, they would be safe from any intervention from the Shinra. Apparently, this had worked until now. Next, he found the picture of a rather atlethic guy, fighting in an arena against two other men. The name "Dio" was on the bottom of the picture, reminding him who that man was; he had heard of him a couple of months ago, a wrestler who performed every week at the battle arena of the Gold Saucer and had become very popular among the visitors. And finally, the last thing in the folder was a picture of a rather old man, dressed in an elegant suit presiding a blackjack table, at the casino area of the Gold Saucer. Obviously, the picture had been taken without him noticing. Vincent took a good look at the man´s face. Distinguished, and somehow tough, his face was that of a man who had worked for a long time to achieve his wealth, and would do anything to protect it. At the bottom of the picture was the name of the man, "Royale".
Vincent closed his eyes and in minutes, he had memorized the features of that man. It couldn´t be him. Not after all those years.
"Any questions?" Melkior said, interrupting Vincent´s thoughts.
Vincent sat straight, and looked into Melkior´s eyes. Since they had met, Vincent always tried to hold his look more than Melkior´s. It was a way of reminding him that, unlike all the other employees, he was not under his control. As always, Melkior blinked first. Vincent then spoke.
"Why? How? When? Where?"
"Why? Does it matters to you?"
"Just curious."
"It seems that Royale, the Gold Saucer´s manager, refuses to accept the presence of the company there."
"He doesn´t give the company a piece of the cake." Vincent translated.
"Yes. So, the company has decided that it would be better for everyone if there was a more reasonable person as a manager of the place."
"You mean, someone who will give into the company´s demands."
Melkior revolted uncomfortably in his chair.
"Anyway, you´re going into the Gold Saucer to kill this guy. As you may know, there has been a little agitation at the town named Corel, where people take the monorail to the Gold Saucer. It seems that there are some groups of "concerned citizens" who are not happy with the way things are done there."
"The local mafia asked for a piece of the cake too, and they were rejected." Vincent said.
"We´re going to use this to our advantage. You will enter the Gold Saucer, contact with our man inside, kill Royale and make it look like it was a job from the criminals at Corel, and get out of there inmediately. Understood?"
"Yes. Who is our man?"
"That wrestler, Dio. It seems he wants to be in a job where he can still get paid after he´s fifty years old. He contacted the company, and promised that, if he would be the next manager, he would make sure all of his electrical power would come from the company´s new Mako power plants."
Vincent nodded, and made some mental calculations. A casino uses a lot of electricity to be run every single day. That meant a lot of money to the company who provided the electricity.
"So, now that all your questions are answered, you can go. Do not fail to me in this one. There are a lot of suits up and down the power ladder who would be glad that you failed. And if you fail to me, I fail to the President, so don´t ever think of coming back if that happens. The best thing you could do would be shoot yourself in the head. If you don´t, I will do it myself before someone "suicides" me, okay?"
"Yes, sir. I will not fail."
"As you may guessed, this is also a good chance for a young, talented man like you to stop being in the playfield and move here to the offices. A higher salary, a pretty secretary, and maybe a chance of being part of the executives you admire so much."
Vincent just stood there, thinking. Finally, he thought, a chance to leave this life behind, and maybe, finally to gain some respect. Everytime he went down the halls of the building, he could hear the other employees refering to him as "lapdog" or "underling". He could feel their disrespective looks when he passed at their side. Now, he could have their respect. He smiled at this thought.
"Well, you´re dismissed now. Your flight leaves in two hours, so make sure you have everything you need before you leave."
"Yes, sir."
Vincent then left the room. Melkior waited until he heard his footsteps sound dying, before he grabbed the phone.
"Sir, it´s done. He´s off to the Gold Saucer."
The voice at the other side of the line asked a few questions. Melkior then assured him that everything was going according the plan. Then he hanged up the phone. He reclined, and facing the roof with the eyes closed, he asked in silence to Vincent to forgive him.