Chapter Text
Sephiroth could remember every moment, with a terrible crystal clarity. The sharp spiraling notes of Jenova’s song and what it felt like to burn .
His long fingers danced across the white and black keys of the piano in a composition all his own, the notes filling the still air around him with a song that sounded more like a scream. Some of the tune was Jenova’s siren’s call, but more of it was himself, his hate and his anger, his heart as bright and hot as the Meteor, and just as destructive.
The song swelled and crested and broke, each complex harmony its own thread of passion or fury or ruin, until it had run its course, and there was silence once again.
Sephiroth let the quiet settle in the darkened room. The only illumination came from the lights of the city outside his window, glittering in darkness. From the piano bench, he could look out over the city they called Insomnia. It wasn’t the “real” Insomnia, of course, but rather a shadow, an echo, just like Midgar to the south. It belonged to another of the warriors Chaos had called into this realm.
“I didn’t know you wrote music,” Ultimecia said, in her satin-smooth voice. She stepped into the room, lazily letting an orb of light drift from her fingertips up to the ceiling.
“How do you know I wrote it?” Sephiroth asked.
Ultimecia smiled. “Just a guess.”
When she moved across the room, her long skirts rippled around her feet like a stream of water, her strides so small and even she seemed to be gliding over the wood floor. Sephiroth watched her, waiting. She was here because she wanted something--it didn’t take a sorceress’s enhanced perception to figure that out.
“Someone else from your world is here,” she finally said. “And he’s a serious threat. He almost killed Seifer, and he’s heading straight for Chaos’s throne. Against Cosmos’s wishes.”
Sephiroth ran his fingers over the black lacquered surface of the piano. He didn’t need to ask who it was. He knew.
My puppet.
“Like I told you,” he said, meeting Ultimecia’s gaze. “I don’t do that anymore.”
“So you said.” She crossed her arms. “I just thought you might want to know. They say Cloud Strife killed you three times. I thought you might want to watch Chaos destroy him.”
Sephiroth turned his attention back to the piano. “Goodnight, Ultimecia.”
He heard her sigh--no doubt she had hoped to bring him back into the fold with such enticing bait.
It wasn’t until he could feel the electric crackle of her magic dissipate into the cool night air that he turned around, alone again in his empty apartment above a city that was little more than a mirage.
His fingers spread over the keys, and then he began to play another song, a melancholy composition that spoke of a long journey far from over, a heavy sword and an impossible task, a country boy far from home.
If there was an answer to the question that was Sephiroth, it was very clearly written in the palm that held Cloud Strife’s sword.
Sephiroth got up, carefully pulling the wooden cover over the piano keys. He stepped out onto the balcony, put his foot up on the railing, and dove into the darkness.
A short time later, a single black feather drifted to a gentle landing on the street below.
#
Cloud Strife was pissed.
He’d woken up this morning, kissed the kids goodbye, hugged Tifa, and stepped out the door waving to their smiling faces. He’d made his way through Edge’s crowded streets, then let Fenrir devour the black stripe of open road before him all the way to Junon.
Except that halfway through, there had been some kind of weird electrical storm, and when it cleared, he was in a barren stretch of nowhere, craggy red rock and bare soil as far as he could see.
He was glad that Fenrir had made it into this strange alter-world with him, the package to be delivered still secure in one of Fenrir’s many compartments. With speed on his side, it hadn’t taken him long to find the tower where Cosmos explained the basics of the situation to him.
She had wanted to go into much more depth, but he’d heard enough. Eternal war sounded like a shitty way to spend his weekend, so he figured he’d try and put a stop to it. Killing the bad guy seemed like the simplest and most effective plan, so he set out to do just that. The few other warriors Cosmos had gathered warned him against it, telling him this “Chaos” guy was incredibly strong.
In their defense, it was probably true. But after you’d faced down Sephiroth for the third time, the God of Discord didn’t sound quite so scary.
And really, what did Cloud have to lose?
The answer, sadly, was not much more than it had been when he’d first asked himself that question, on their long quest to stop Sephiroth from summoning Meteor. Sephiroth had taken Cloud’s home and his family, and although he now had dear friends and more money than his mother could have dreamed of, he never really got those two things back.
So either I curbstomp Chaos and go home, or I get killed trying. Cloud hunkered down a little further and gunned Fenrir’s engine. Either way, I get outta here.
He glanced at the clock on Fenrir’s dash, but time was really wonky in this place, so it might have been wildly inaccurate. It felt like afternoon, at any rate.
When he looked up, there was a tall figure in a black coat standing about a hundred feet away, directly in his path.
“No,” Cloud said, shaking his head, pushing hard on the gas pedal. “No. No fucking way.”
The figure didn’t step aside until the very last second, and then only barely, so that Cloud felt the wisps of long silver hair brush past him, caught up in the wind he generated as he sped by.
He slowed his pace, swung the motorcycle around, and dismounted. Fenrir’s compartments opened, and Cloud pulled out First Tsurugi, twirling it in his hand as he advanced on his foe.
Sephiroth was unarmed, but that didn’t mean anything. “I keep telling people I’m not doing this anymore,” he said.
“Then why--” Cloud swung First Tsurugi in a fierce arc, which Sephiroth gracefully sidestepped. “Why the hell are you here?”
“For the same reason you are, I assume,” Sephiroth said.
Cloud’s lips pulled back in a snarl, and he lunged forward. The ring of steel on steel filled the barren landscape, and Cloud took a slight step back, jarred by the impact. It had been a long time since he’d fought someone with the same sheer physical strength as Sephiroth.
“I just wanted to tell you,” Sephiroth said, holding the Masamune with only one fucking hand because he was that kind of show off, “that if you kill Chaos, it’s not going to change anything. And he’s much stronger than you think.”
“Thanks for the warning.” Cloud swung again, and Sephiroth parried, then pressed the attack in a graceful flurry of blows that almost knocked Cloud off his feet.
Sephiroth had a quiet, private smile on his face as he fought with a finesse and cleverness he’d never had before. His fighting style as Cloud knew it was brutal and direct, relying on his superhuman strength rather than speed or strategy.
It took Cloud a few moments to adapt to this new, different foe. In every other battle they’d fought, Sephiroth seemed to be only half present, listening to a crescendo only he could hear. But today, he looked like he was fully immersed in the moment, and enjoying it too.
Like this, focused and thoughtful, he was much harder to beat.
“I thought you were dead,” Cloud groaned, backflipping out of the way of a sweeping slice of the Masamune.
“Maybe I am. Maybe this is what comes after.”
“No fucking way am I gonna end up in the same place as you,” Cloud growled, punctuating his complaint with a firm thrust of First Tsurugi.
“Hmm.” Sephiroth took two steps back and lowered his sword. “I don’t want to fight you anymore, Cloud.”
Cloud kept First Tsurugi raised cautiously. “Then get the hell out of my way.”
“Very well. I’ll leave you to a fight you can’t possibly win.” Sephiroth gave him a slight bow that almost bordered on polite, his great black wing appearing behind him. A few feathers drifted lazily through the air as his wing swept downward, pushing him into the sky.
Even if I lose this fight, at least you won’t be the one who kills me, he thought, watching Sephiroth fly away.
Cloud didn’t relax until his nemesis was a distant dark spot on the horizon. Then he put his sword back into Fenrir’s compartment and swung back astride the motorcycle. No matter how powerful Chaos was, there was no way he could be as annoying as Sephiroth.