Something terrible had happened here, but that was long ago.

So long in fact that no living member of the Guild could recall the memory, so long that the only mention of it lay within the Guild’s oldest logs. But where the human mind failed the world remembered, so Shin-Ra Industries persisted. Less inquisitive minds would have surrendered the hunt for more fertile grounds yet they persisted, delving deep into the jungle world armed with little more than a flashlight and questions that would not answer themselves, and one particularly grumpy Knight.

The excavation team had set up camp several miles out from the site itself. The scientists had since discovered that the dreadful fog surrounding the area did nasty things to external forms of magic which in turn forced them to rely on their Materia. It was theorized that the Materia itself acted as a focus that kept the fog from plying the thaumatic energies apart and while that was an interesting find it also severely limited their options. Every morning they hiked through the marshes to reach the excavation site that they set up and though there was grumbling to be had everyone unanimously agreed that things were better this way. Not because of the fog or because of the strange alien predators that prowled about but because the ruins were just plain creepy.

It did not help that the civilization they had unearthed bore a striking resemblance to their own, not at all.

Only Satori never wavered and it was that determination that they had latched onto. Though she was their sole guard she was rarely seen unless they had need of her, often times disappearing into the depths below or slipping into the surrounding jungle, moving with preternatural grace and familiarity. It was almost as if she knew the lay of the land. She did, that was true, but what they did not know and what they could not know is that Satori had absolutely no idea why this territory was so familiar to her. Her memory of this world was like a bubble, a vague thing drifting on the surface of her mind that popped the instant she stared too close, and where others may have been frustrated she was drawn.

Today was an unusual day as she was close at hand, crouched on one of the steppes and staring into the pits below with a ponderous look on her face. Since the Majesty Tournament had ended Satori had slipped into something a bit more comfortable. The brown one piece was the same outfit she had worn in prison, surprisingly durable and more importantly a part of her wardrobe that she was willing to part with, and save for the addition of a few frivolous pieces of jewelry and an unnervingly pink undershirt it was fairly bland. But then again it had survived a run in with the Twin Towers so maybe she was selling the jumpsuit short. It tucked into a set of thick black boots and the sleeves were rolled up to expose a set of surprisingly well-muscled forearms. Though she was nearly six feet tall Satori did not cut a particularly threatening figure and thanks to stalled aging she never would. Even if her face was pretty it was childish with a layer of baby-fat set into the cheeks for eternity, too wide eyes, and a button nose. It was a face that begged to be bullied which ran perfectly in line with Satori’s smartest-person-in-the-room mentality and coupled with a caustic disposition that refused to explain itself often set her very high on the list of people who needed to be hit in the face. Unfortunately for the world at large she was also a master of the martial arts. Her black hair was pinned to either side of her head and what wasn’t braided had been swept up into a comb that fell to one side of her head, behind her head the hair was encouraged to do the same but in an environment as humid as this fashion was at the mercy of nature.

A white fur coat dyed red at the throat hung from her shoulders though it must have been unbearably hot and was fastened in place by a series of golden chains. She claimed that the fur had been stripped from the hide of an Ogre who in addition to deserving his fate also provided her with a degree of protection from magic in death. Whether that was true or whether she just wanted to look like a pimp remained to be seen. Other weapons and tools hung on her person, most of them tucked into the series of too-many belts around her waist, the most notable being a white-sheathed katana at her left hip and a particularly large handgun dangling from her right. There was a hammer hanging from her rear, unseen to the world, acting as a taunting last resort. Sky Dancer had sworn to run her through if she ever surrendered to temptation which was add because the elf had otherwise sworn every aspect of his life to her service. And thus was Satori ready for anything that came her way.

“I can’t shake the feeling that I know this place,” Satori whispered to the darkness. “I need answers and I’m close. I just don’t know if the company is going to like what I find.” Surprisingly enough the darkness muttered back.