The rusted hinges of the glass door creaked as Sam pushed it open. It has been roughly a month since he was last here at this corner store. Everything about the place was the same. Slightly rusted shelves containing whatever junk was being sold. Walls with paint peeling off due to age. And the same earthy smell of marijuana that his sense of smell didn't really take a liking to. "Don't wanna be here for longer than I have to…" he said to himself. Sam headed from out the doorway and began searching through the shelves. His main goal here was just a pack of cigarettes. One should suffice. His eyes trailed across the shelves searching for what he wanted. With the way this store is managed almost nothing was organized. Things were just strewn across the shelves with no real order. Chips and various over-the-counter medications were also probably some of the four things this place even sold. Sam sometimes wondered how this place was still open. It took a few minutes of random searching until he found some semblance of 'organization'. One of the shelf rows had a few boxes with different brands of cigs. But once Sam got a little closer, he found that most of them were brands that he didn't really like. And the brand that he did like was nowhere to be found. Sam was tempted to leave. Perhaps try and manage for a week or so, then come and check again. Those thoughts were halted once his eyes caught the sight of something different. It was the same size as the other cig boxes. However, it was a lot more intricately designed. Adorning the box was a background of a desolate landscape with what looked to be a massive meteor falling onto it. Swirls of whites and blue were conglomerating at said meteor. And in the foreground was what looked to be a futuristic plane of some sort. All of this was behind the brand-name. A font that looked like a fancier Times New Roman with words reading 'Aeronautic Fantasies'. He reached out a hand and picked up one of the packets. "Little complex for a cigarette box, doncha think," he voiced aloud to no one in particular. It was also a brand that Sam had never heard of. In contrast there was an air of familiarity to the scene depicted on the box. He couldn't really pin it down though. He looked back at the other brands on the shelf. It couldn't hurt to give these a try… With his mind made up Sam headed towards the counter. The earthy aroma intensified the closer he got. God he hated the smell. The man running the counter looked fairly disheveled. A blunt, the source of that atrocious smell, was awkwardly held in his mouth. And judging by his dazed look, he was more than a little out of it. "Uh, hey. You there Logan?" The only response was a slight grunt. Sam sighed. "I'm surprised your business is still afloat…" he said under his breath. He placed a ten dollar bill on the counter and walked out the store. It was definitely more than needed to pay off the pack, but at this point he didn't really care. The city was dark with the night having taken it over. Sam wished he had gotten here a little earlier as nighttime strolls were a little anxiety-inducing. Luckily his apartment wasn't very far. The walk itself was fairly quick if not a little cold, his hoodie unfortunately being no match for the winter chills. Once at his apartment, Sam haphazardly threw the packet onto the desk beside his laptop. And once his eyes caught a glimpse of the laptop, the man instantly remembered that he had to get some work done for his boss before tomorrow. He rolled down the sleeve of his hoodie and stared at his watch before letting out an annoyed sigh. 9:50PM. Sam took a seat and opened the laptop, then promptly started looking through the documents his boss gave him. Hopefully it won't take too long to deal with everything. It was around 10:05 when his train of thought first derailed. Out of nowhere the box of cigarettes on the edge of the table came to mind. He tries to push the thought down though. He had to finish this… But that thought never went away. Something about them felt… alluring. Like he had to smoke one. Sam was hoping it was withdrawal, but he knew no kind of withdrawal he's ever experienced was like this. Every few minutes his eyes would look back at the pack of cigs. And every few minutes that temptation would grow. He could feel his heart rate rising as he kept thinking about them. And part of him felt a little scared about where this craving came from. He frustratingly pushed his chair away from the desk and eyed the complexly designed box. "Just… one…" Depending on the severity of the high he'd get he could probably still work on this later tonight. Perhaps even tomorrow if he had too… He took a hold of the pack and opened it. Taking out one of the cigs from the box, he noticed that the wrapping had a blue and green coloration instead of white and orange. He shoved his other hand into the pocket of his jeans, then pulled out his trusty lighter. "This better be worth it," he muttered. He then placed the cigarette in his mouth, the green portion being held with his lips with the blue portion hanging out. He uncapped the lighter and ignited it. Then finally, he lit the cigarette. Things started to get weird after the first inhale. The moment the smoke had entered his lungs it seemed to dissipate instantaneously. And shortly after, Sam's mind started to fog. A soft blue glow emerged in the man's irises as the peculiarities started to set in. "Ugh… what is in these things…" Sam could already feel a high starting to come on. Or atleast, that's how he interpreted it. Thoughts were getting muddled rapidly. Getting his work done was far from his focus now. What even was his focus anymore… He inhaled again. This time the smoke stayed in his lungs. Sam absentmindedly rolled the cig in between his fingers for a moment before taking it out and exhaling, a cloud of smoke erupting from the man's mouth. His eyes, glowing and dazed, stared at the smoke in bliss. With his mind blanking, Sam was unaware of what was beginning to occur in his body. A feeling of numbness has quickly coarsed throughout his entire being. And with that numbness came something… peculiar. It began where the cigarette met the flesh of his hand. In mere seconds the hand started to weather. Age creeped into it as calluses formed upon his palms. A few cuts then slit themselves into the skin before miraculously scarring over. Sam lifted the cig back into his mouth and inhaled again. While he did so the muscles in the arm started to bulk a little. Power coursed through the arm as it grew in width, and the bones steadily lengthened alongside it. With another inhale of smoke the man's mind continued to fall under a haze. Memories started to feel distant, reality not feeling like what it used to be. Something had felt… off, yet he couldn't tell what. While he tried to think straight the cigarette started up another change, this time in his head. His previously soft jawline lost it's roundness, instead becoming chiseled and more well-defined. Specks of stubble then grew out of his chin; scratchy brown hairs materializing around it. A few of his facial features had more single changes; his facial structure thinning slightly, the tip of his nose dulling, and his ears changing their position a bit to look more prominent. The changes halted temporarily once he took the cigarette out of his mouth with the unchanged hand and exhaled again. His focus wasn't on the smoke this time, however. He stared down at the table continuously trying to realign his thoughts. Confused, he used the changed hand to try and grab the pack but lost his grip causing them to drop onto the ground. He then instantly forgot what he just tried to do. He didn't even notice that his laptop was gone. Now making contact with the cig, his other hand shifted to match the changed one. Palms hardening, scars etching into it. Arm gaining a bit of muscle and growing longer. Years of combat training was materializing onto the man's skin. Years of wielding that spear of his… Brown leather then proceeded to come into existence and encased both hands with hard gloves. The changes soon reached his shoulders, kick-starting a continuous shift. His shoulders broadened, his body gaining a more boxy appearance. A new surge of strength ran through his chest as his pectorals hardened. His belly lost a bit of it's gut as it became flatter with some visible muscle. This was followed by a subtle trail of fuzz that dusted his chest. Sam(?) placed the cigarette in his mouth again and inhaled. New memories started to piece together in his head, albeit faint ones. What seemed to be a… rocket launch? He had always wanted to see space… While all of this went on, the box he dropped on the floor was starting a new cascade of changes. The carpeting on the floor changed from plain brown into a green diamond pattern. The remaining portions of the floor shifted to a smooth wood pattern while the walls became beige bricks. A subtle warp of reality could be seen as things changed, however Sam was unaware of it all. A pair of goggles then strapped themselves onto the man's head. And where the leather touched his hair, the coloration and style of the follicles shifted. A bright blonde rose from the roots while the strands straightened and spiked. While still dazed, the man neglected to take care of the ashes. A few of those ashes proceeded to drop onto his clothes. They then seeped into the fabric. The green of his hoodie darkened to a navy blue as the fabric hardened to denim. The hood then shrunk into a collar while the zipper slunk into the thinning denim. A lapel then folded itself from the split. The sleeves of the new jacket rolled themselves up, patches then stitching themselves onto them. A few belt-like bands started to hang from both sides of the jacket, dangling precariously over newly forming pockets. Beneath the jacket his already dark undershirt grew a bit to feel more comfortable on his body. A white scarf snaked around his neck and comfily clung to it. His pants were next. A black leather belt slithered around the belt loops and snapped on perfectly. Where leather touched the denim of his jeans, the coloration changed to a deep green. The jeans grew baggier with large pockets on both legs. The legs lengthened a bit and once they touched his shoes it started changing them too. The white of the sneakers stained with a large splotch of brown that quickly overtook them. The topline of them raised and covered the bottom of his pants. Laces and straps then formed and tied themselves, completing the final changes in clothing. Beneath his pants the last of his physical changes were coming to fruition. Much like his arms, both legs muscled up and grew longer. A tremendous amount of strength filled what seemed to be unimpressive muscles, perfect for jumping to great heights. Especially in combat. His feet then grew larger to fit his boots. He put the cig back in his mouth and did another inhale. At this point the cigarette had seemed almost burnt out. Smoke held in his lungs, memories continued to fill out his mind. Blank spots getting years and years of aeronautic training. Subtle engineering knowledge, although not enough to really notice anything major. Combat expertise, especially with that spear of his. Even a new name had pushed out the old one. Then there were the memories of his life. Those years leading up to that failed rocket launch and the years before that. The years after he'd spent holding that rightful grudge towards Shinra. The years he'd spent looking up at the stars hoping to reach them some day… The high was beginning to wear off as the remaining blanks were filled. Cid's vision was beginning to catch the weird warping effect of reality, but not enough to think too much of it. He was oblivious to the table changing from rectangular to circular. The small kitchen area setting itself up on the side of the room. Doors materializing on the wall adjacent from where he sat, a hall then expanding beside them. Cid blinked for a moment. The cigarette was almost burnt out, the last of his memories coming to light. Getting roped in with Cloud and his gang of numbskulls. The whole debacle at the Temple of the Ancients and the constant fear he had of getting killed. Then there was the euphoric high he was experiencing when the group hijacked the Highwind. And finally getting to live his dream out and see the vast expanse of the cosmos with his very eyes… and getting proven wrong by Shera… But after all of that, he was here back at home in Rocket Town. The threat of Meteor still loomed over them. This could very well be their last week alive. He took the cig butt out from his mouth and noticed the box of them on the floor. Must've fallen off my goggles, he thought to himself. He bent over and picked up the unimpressive brown box, then promptly fastened it back on the side of his goggles. For some reason he couldn't quite remember the last few minutes. Those things weren't that strong. But back to the problem at hand. There was no use just sitting around and smoking! The planet needed saving after all. He got up and adjusted his jacket a bit before heading out the door. The night sky was barely visible due to Meteor's imposing appearance. Large and bright, deadly. Could definitely kill them, at least if Sephiroth didn't first. For once Cid looked away from the sky. Heading towards the town's main entrance his mind began to drift in thought. If they do die it would be to save the Planet. The Planet is just a little kid after all… Sick and trembling in this huge universe. In need of a protector. And if that protector had to be him and the group of numbskulls… So be it.