The Road to Junon

The ridge outside the Mythril Mine gave way to a long descent through rocky foothills. The party moved in single file, the Buster Sword a dark line against Cloud’s back. Behind them the mine entrance dwindled to a black notch in the stone. Ahead the land opened toward the sea.

By afternoon the air carried the first scent of salt. The path joined an old Shinra supply road that still bore the scars of heavy transport. Abandoned crates and rusted signage marked the way. Boot prints continued along the same route. The Turks had not tried to hide their passage.

Barret kept a steady pace at the rear, gun-arm ready. Tifa walked near the front with Cloud, eyes scanning the higher ground for movement. Aerith stayed in the middle, quiet, the ribbon in her hair stirring in the coastal breeze.

They made no camp that night. The open ground offered little cover and the sense of being followed remained strong. The group pushed on under moonlight until the dark shape of Junon rose against the horizon. The upper city lights glittered along the cliffside. The lower undercity clung to the rock face below like a second, poorer settlement. Between them the massive cannon and the fortified walls stood as a clear reminder of Shinra’s reach.

At a final rise overlooking the approach, the party stopped. The main gates of Junon would be watched. The undercity routes offered better odds of entering unseen.

Barret studied the layout. “We go in low. Find out if the black cloaks passed through. If Sephiroth is here, or if he already moved on, we need to know before we show our faces in the upper levels.”

Cloud nodded. Tifa checked the fit of her gloves. Aerith looked toward the distant lights without speaking.

They left the rise and descended toward the undercity entrances, keeping to the deeper shadows. The road to Junon had brought them this far. Whatever waited inside the coastal fortress would decide the next turn of the hunt.