[ 003 - Videostream ]
[ A bright electrical flare causes the Forge to switch on and begin recording, but it takes several moments before the audo-adjust feature is able to correct the brightness and contrast. In the meantime, a crackling and screaming hiss-like static-can be heard, and accompanying it, the low and crooning moan of a creature that has been injured.
When the last of the crackling subsides, when the camera has properly focused, the world within view is on a tilt. A rather tall bird is collapsed on the ground before the Forge, mist rolling over its body, feathers singed, flightless wings twitching as its eyes roll, first toward Yazoo who is standing over it, resonating green materia in hand, and then toward Zack, standing on the opposite side of the Phororhacos's head. ]
"If you're hungry... kill it. A true SOLDIER wouldn't hesitate."
[ And here is Zack, small Zack, five years old and not in school yet, listening to the wails of this injured animal. His eyes are wide, frightened; he knew where food came from, sure, but he hadn't ever-couldn't-Mom just made him a sandwich when he was hungry. Or soup. He liked soup.
The expression on his face said that he didn't like this. ]
"I... don't... I can't..." [ There's a pause, the hiccup of a sniffle, and the clear intention to cry was held back by the thinnest of threads. ] "...I wanna..." [ ...go home, but he doesn't say that. Not in front of a real...hero. ]
"Oh? This again, hm...?"
[ Yazoo rolls his eyes, armored shoulders rising and falling with a heavy and exasperated sigh. It wouldn't be like this if the bird had just attacked Zack instead of him, but the youth was hardly an appetizing meal for the eight-foot-tall avian behemoth. ]
"It's already on the verge of death, you see?" [ A knife procured from the boy's home is slipped free from Yazoo's sleeve and passed toward Zack. ] "The longer you wait... the more pain it will be in."
[ And, more impatiently- ]
"Do it already... it won't remain paralyzed for much longer."
[ The knife was a ten ton weight in the boy's hand; the second his fingers curled around the gift, Zack's arm dropped bonelessly at his side, the point scraping next to his leg. His face was eight shades whiter than ever before, and he looked on the verge of passing out right there, a bundle of sticks and stones. Instead, he took a step forward, hand shaking, muttering the words he had wanted to before but had been too afraid to whisper. ]
"...iwannagohomeiwannagohomeiwannagohome..."
[ But he was a boy, a small boy that was far too impressional, far too eager to please, far too afraid. That big monster had gone after the SOLDIER and he was trying to teach him a lesson and he had no choice, right? None. So he raised the knife up with the tears rolling down his cheeks-call him a wuss, call him a pansy, call him what you will-and he cried out his mom's name like a prayer, an apology, before he brought it down. ]
[ A spray of crimson is the last that is seen, red painting the lens of the camera and dribbling down, obscuring man and boy, and fallen beast from view. ]
"Now... you are a real hero."
[ The connection terminates. ]
When the last of the crackling subsides, when the camera has properly focused, the world within view is on a tilt. A rather tall bird is collapsed on the ground before the Forge, mist rolling over its body, feathers singed, flightless wings twitching as its eyes roll, first toward Yazoo who is standing over it, resonating green materia in hand, and then toward Zack, standing on the opposite side of the Phororhacos's head. ]
"If you're hungry... kill it. A true SOLDIER wouldn't hesitate."
[ And here is Zack, small Zack, five years old and not in school yet, listening to the wails of this injured animal. His eyes are wide, frightened; he knew where food came from, sure, but he hadn't ever-couldn't-Mom just made him a sandwich when he was hungry. Or soup. He liked soup.
The expression on his face said that he didn't like this. ]
"I... don't... I can't..." [ There's a pause, the hiccup of a sniffle, and the clear intention to cry was held back by the thinnest of threads. ] "...I wanna..." [ ...go home, but he doesn't say that. Not in front of a real...hero. ]
"Oh? This again, hm...?"
[ Yazoo rolls his eyes, armored shoulders rising and falling with a heavy and exasperated sigh. It wouldn't be like this if the bird had just attacked Zack instead of him, but the youth was hardly an appetizing meal for the eight-foot-tall avian behemoth. ]
"It's already on the verge of death, you see?" [ A knife procured from the boy's home is slipped free from Yazoo's sleeve and passed toward Zack. ] "The longer you wait... the more pain it will be in."
[ And, more impatiently- ]
"Do it already... it won't remain paralyzed for much longer."
[ The knife was a ten ton weight in the boy's hand; the second his fingers curled around the gift, Zack's arm dropped bonelessly at his side, the point scraping next to his leg. His face was eight shades whiter than ever before, and he looked on the verge of passing out right there, a bundle of sticks and stones. Instead, he took a step forward, hand shaking, muttering the words he had wanted to before but had been too afraid to whisper. ]
"...iwannagohomeiwannagohomeiwannagohome..."
[ But he was a boy, a small boy that was far too impressional, far too eager to please, far too afraid. That big monster had gone after the SOLDIER and he was trying to teach him a lesson and he had no choice, right? None. So he raised the knife up with the tears rolling down his cheeks-call him a wuss, call him a pansy, call him what you will-and he cried out his mom's name like a prayer, an apology, before he brought it down. ]
[ A spray of crimson is the last that is seen, red painting the lens of the camera and dribbling down, obscuring man and boy, and fallen beast from view. ]
"Now... you are a real hero."
[ The connection terminates. ]