Warning:  Darkfic Ahead
PM Productions Presents
A Phillip Masters Fanfic
Eugenics
Chapter One (B): The One Who Time Remembered

Japan, Nerima, Septmember 21, 1996

     Ranma ran down the tattered remains of what used to be a road.
Craters, from pothole size, to house size peppered the blacktop.  His
lungs burned as hot as the surrounding buildings as he inhaled too much
ash.  He couldn't believe that just yesterday Nerima was a thriving
community, and the sun shone brightly down upon it through blue skies.
It was as if in twenty-four hours paradise had been balled up and tossed
into Hell's incinerator.  
     Occasionally, Ranma heard the cries of survivors, though they were
few and far apart.  It was taking him much longer to travel, being that
his usual route was a blazing inferno.  His trip did take him by Dr.
Tofu's.  The office was a smoldering pit, along with most of the block.
He didn't know if Dr. Tofu himself had made it to shalter or not... but
surely a listing of those who made it, and those who didn't, would be
posted when the government could get a hold of the situation once more.  
     Finally, after what seemed like hours, Ranma arrived at Ucchan's.
Like every other standing structure in the city, the shop was on fire.
By this point it looked ready to collapse in on itself, all the supports
showing through the non-existant walls as black charcoal.  
     Ranma fell to his knees, causing two small clouds of ash to rise
from the road.  A single tear made its way down his cheek, and fell into
the grey powder below.  He shut his eyes tightly and denied everything,
but when he reopened them Hell still remained.  His head swiveled
suddenly, his ears straining to pick up anything over the dead silence.  
     A faint cry brought him to his feet in an instant.  He took off in
the direction of the sound as fast as he could run.  He only made about
twenty meters before stopping to relocate the source of the voice.  Now,
he could pick up more than one, and he reoriented himself on them.  A
few more moments later he was standing in front of a broken down
building at the end of the street.  It had long ago burned out, only a
pitchy skeleton remained.
     Ranma looked around the area, trying to see where the noise was
coming from.  He could now clearly hear the sound of multiple children
crying.  He looked down.  At the base of the building was a concrete
floor, presumably below that was a basement.  Entering the building, he
was careful to keep an eye on the integrety of the structure.  It seemed
sound, but any moment another aftershock could hit and bring the whole
thing down on his head.  His head had taken a lot of blunt trauma in its
day, but he doubted whether even he could survive an entire building.  
     After looking through four of what used to be rooms, he stumbled
upon the enterance.  Two doors made a hatch in the floor of what looked
like a utility closet, as the burned remains of various cleaning tools
had become part of a melted metal shelf.  He reached down, took a hold
of the door handle, and quickly snatched his hand back as the pain of
heat shot through it.  He looked around for something to cover his hand
with, and found nothing.  He pulled his shirt off and wrapped it around
his still sore hand.  The first yank of the handle proved to be futile,
as the door was obviously locked.  Putting his back into it, Ranma
pulled with all his might.  The door groaned, fighting against the
strain.  With a final effort the lock gave way and he opened the panel.
     First thing Ranma saw was a face, covered in blood, staring up at
him.  He didn't recognize the person, but the look in his eyes was that
of everyone he had seen so far.  One of desperation, fear, trepidation,
and a little hope.
     "How many survivors do you have?" Ranma asked the man.
     "Not many... about fifteen or so I'd say.  Do you have any
information?  We didn't have a radio with us."  The man lead the way
down the stairs and Ranma followed.
     The scene that greeted him as he reached the bottom was not that
different from the one in his own shelter.  People were tending to the
injured and mourning the dead.  In the far corner, tending to an elderly
man who had a broken leg, was the person Ranma was looking for.
     A wave of relief and joy swept through him as he called out,
"Ucchan!"
     He could see her freeze, her hands shaking slightly.  She put down
the bandages she had used on the man's leg and turned toward him.  Her
face showed a mix of disbelief and hope.  
     As her eyes fell on him he smiled.  Tears that she had thought were
all dried up began to pour anew.  "Ranma," she whispered, and ran toward
him.  She felt her arms wrap around him, and her doubts vanished.
"Kami, I thought you had died," she said as she held him for all she was
worth.
     Though his ribs protested, Ranma just held Ukyou that much closer
to himself.  He shushed her and reassured her that he was okay, and so
was most everyone else.  He told her about Nabiki and his father.
     She backed away from him, but didn't let go. "I'm sorry."
     Ranma shook his head.  "A lot of people died...."  He looked to the
man who had brought him in and yelled out for everyone to hear,  "Listen
up!"  He panned his gaze around the room as people quieted down.
"According to the radio, an asteroid hit somewhere in China.  Tokyo is
almost completely destroyed... no one seems to know much more than
that."  
     He let go of Ukyou and began to turn away.
     "Where are you going, Ranchan?" she asked, almost desperately.
     "I've got to go see if Shampoo is okay... are you coming?"
     She nodded, and they both headed back out into the street.  

Nibelheim, March 14, 4125

     Darkness, pain, anger... they all played a role in his life.  Yet,
somehow they were all familiar to him, and he didn't mind.  Ever since
he had become aware a little over four months ago, he had been...
learning.  
     Master Hojo's idea of learning being an education in more efficient
ways to kill.  The Master had been ecstatic when he found out how well
he could learn.  Fighting seemed to come almost naturally, and he picked
up weapons training at a rate that far surpassed his expectations.  Due
to this, R-86, his designation, was treated better than most.  He still
felt his share of the Machine... and the drugs Hojo used almost seemed
to be made to be as painful as humanly possible.  
     Now, the Machine... the Machine was one of Master Hojo's more
prized creations.  It was designed as a "learning suppliment" for the
SOLDIER Project.  It seems a person who was infused with Mako energy was
more advanced than a normal one, so greater steps had to be taken in
their training.  It dealt with Virtual Reality and what Hojo termed
"adequate" use of the pain centers of the brain.  All in all it was
damnation in a box, and most did what they were told and did it well to
stay away from it.
     R-86 knew he was different.  Other than the fact that he had no
name, and had no memory before four months ago when he woke up, it was
still obvious.  He did everything better, faster, and more efficiently
than anyone else.  He also turned into a woman when hit with cold
water... but for some reason, given Master Hojo's surprise, he didn't
think that had been expected of him.  This had proved to be a mixed
blessing.  On the one hand he gained more of the Master's attention...
on the other, he was used for more experiments.  
     It seemed Master Hojo could not figure out why he turned into a
woman.  No matter how hard he tried, it continued to stump him.  Now, in
R-86's experience, Master Hojo knew just about everything there was
about Genetics and Molecular Biology.  He had heard the Master
hypothesize that Magic was most likely involved, but it was of a nature
that couldn't be detected by modern day devices.  
     R-86 was not alone in his training.  There was another who was kept
in the cell next to his, that was suposedly born under similar
circumstances as himself.  They were told their mother's had not wanted
them, so they were sold to Master Hojo as infants to be used in the
SOLDIER Project.  
     His name was Sephiroth.

Midgar, August 10, 4126

     "Now, listen up!" General Heidegger bellowed at the troops lined up
before him, "Today is to be the happiest day in our life!  For today you
become soldiers in the Shinra army!  You are the best the SOLDIER
Project had to offer, and only the best become part of the Shinra army!
Do you understand?"
     "Yes, sir!" rang through the ranks.
     Heidegger nodded.  "Very good.  You will be issued weapons and
assigned quarters.  You need but remember *two* things while in this
army!  One, the man next to you is your best friend, for your ass
depends on whether he does his job or not!  Two, do your job, and do it
right, or your ass will be mine!"  He looked up and down the line a few
times, letting his words sink in.  He grinned at the fresh, proud men,
all ready to lay their lives on the line for Shinra.  "Very well!
Dismissed!"  
     R-86, who was named Ryle by his friend, Sephiroth, stood in the
doorway of his new room.  After over a year of straight training he
easily passed the SOLDIER enterance program test.  Master Hojo had been
as proud as Ryle had ever seen him, and had told him to make him even
more so in the battlefield.  
     He threw his pack on the bottom bunk and hefted the sword he had
been given.  It was as tall as he was and almost as wide, weighing
almost three times as much as he did.  He swang it around a few times,
showing the grace and control of a sword master.  It also had four,
connected slots for Materia, but they had said they would distribute
that as needed.  He opened his pack and took out the two Materia Hojo
had given him, a FullCure and Fire.  They clicked into place on the
sword hilt and glowed briefly as they molded themselves to their new
home.  
     Materia was the biggest mystery of the modern age, though it was
also the most widely used tool.  No one, at least as far as Ryle knew,
was sure exactly how it worked.  
     "Hey!"
     Ryle was knocked out of his ponderings and turned to the familiar
voice.  "Yo, Seph... what's up?"  
     Sephiroth grinned and threw his pack next to Ryle's.  "Guess they
thought we were just too  damn good together... gave us the same room!"
     Ryle smiled.  "Damn right we are!"  He hefted his sword.  "Care to
join me in a little training?  We should acclimate ourselves to these
larger swords."
     Sephiroth nodded, picking his own up and waving it around a bit.
"Bulky things... I rather liked the katana I trained with."
     "Yeah, but they can cut through four inches of reinforced armor
like butter!"
     "In other words, I couldn't, say, chop your head in two?" Sephiroth
asked innocently.
     Ryle laughed, and punched his friend in the arm.  "Yeah, in other
words.  Come on, let's go!"
     They ran out of the room together, shutting the door behind them.  

END Chapter One Draft
Well, that's the complete Chapter One.  In the next one, Ranma of the
past will go to the Nekohaten, or what's left of it... and future Ranma
will find out what being a SOLDIER means.  Please send comments and the
like to this address.
Thanks for reading,
PMasters (10-21-98)                   

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Babylon OVA 1
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