Not her own. The fear of the two guards currently crumpled in the corner of the loading bay, their nightsticks lying uselessly next to their unconscious forms. Tifa Lockhart adjusted the leather strap of her glove, listening to the rhythmic hiss of the ventilation shafts overhead. She didn’t break bones if she could help it. A swift, precise strike to the carotid artery, a soft catch of their falling bodies—clean, quiet, and merciful.
Looking back at the monolithic tower, she allowed herself a small, hard smile. They had the most advanced security in the world. But they had never accounted for a bartender who could read a man’s next move in the twitch of his trigger finger.
He slid down the glass, unconscious.
She slipped inside.
The room was a gallery of nightmares. Glass tubes filled with murky green liquid, each containing a half-formed creature with too many teeth or too many eyes. Tifa’s stomach tightened, but her face remained a mask of calm. She wasn't here to save the monsters. She was here for the folder marked "Reunion Theory."
A soft beep came from her earpiece. Cloud’s voice, low and tense. "Tifa. They know someone is inside. Five minutes."
She didn't turn. She moved.
That’s the difference between us and them, she thought, stepping over a twitching hand.
Not her own. The fear of the two guards currently crumpled in the corner of the loading bay, their nightsticks lying uselessly next to their unconscious forms. Tifa Lockhart adjusted the leather strap of her glove, listening to the rhythmic hiss of the ventilation shafts overhead. She didn’t break bones if she could help it. A swift, precise strike to the carotid artery, a soft catch of their falling bodies—clean, quiet, and merciful.
Looking back at the monolithic tower, she allowed herself a small, hard smile. They had the most advanced security in the world. But they had never accounted for a bartender who could read a man’s next move in the twitch of his trigger finger.
He slid down the glass, unconscious.
She slipped inside.
The room was a gallery of nightmares. Glass tubes filled with murky green liquid, each containing a half-formed creature with too many teeth or too many eyes. Tifa’s stomach tightened, but her face remained a mask of calm. She wasn't here to save the monsters. She was here for the folder marked "Reunion Theory." infiltration mission tifa
A soft beep came from her earpiece. Cloud’s voice, low and tense. "Tifa. They know someone is inside. Five minutes."
She didn't turn. She moved.
That’s the difference between us and them, she thought, stepping over a twitching hand.