The Beginning of the Battle of Sector Seven

As Cloud, Aerith, and Tifa emerged from the sewers into the train graveyard, their nostrils were filled with acrid smoke from burning fires and gunpowder. Panicking, the three quickly slipped through the maze of trains, one of the radios flicking to life from the signals nearby.

"Plate separation code is ... .... Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course I do!" Reno barked back. "We can drop the damn thing whenever… It's just that..."

Thousands of feet above, Reno aimed the machine guns at the revolutionaries standing on the metal stairs. He scowled.

"You got a **** wish or something? Because I sure as shit don't." His boss's voice crackled through the comms.

"Reno, what's happening? Do we have a problem?"

"Not really. Small arms fire from some local boys trying to defend the pillar."

"More would-be heroes, huh? Sending reinforcements. The more players that take the stage, the better."

"So that's what we are, huh?"

"Contact me when the mission is complete."

Meanwhile, Tifa stared at the radio in the train dumbfounded. Cloud hugged her tightly. He didn't know what to say.

"Tifa…"

"They're really gonna drop the plate."

"They won't if Barret and the others have anything to say about it."

"All we can do now is keep moving," Aerith said.

"Please… Please let us be in time," Tifa murmured, then broke into a sprint towards the pillar.