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Chapter Text

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There was a flash of blinding light.

A blink, and Cloud found himself falling. Further and deeper, past an amalgamation of stars.

Another flash of light, the blonde slowed at journeys end. He was floating, down, down, down.

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Reality settled and Cloud awakened, his eyes met the chilling mako of Sephiroth’s orbs. His nightmare made flesh, the man stood tall, waiting for his arrival.

Cloud continued to fall, the wind resistance doing little to stop his descent. The ground approached rapidly, the silvered man remained in place, unmoved by the blonde’s arrival.

In one fluid motion Cloud flipped and landed heavily on his own two feet before his enemy. A surge of dust rose upon impact with the husk of a planet. A deep breath, a beat of an instant, Cloud made to stand.

He caught a glimpse of dark boots and succumbed.

A sharp pain hit the back of Cloud’s eyes, clawing and persistent. All was white noise as he squeezed his azure orbs shut. There was a screech, the world screamed. His surroundings far too bright, far too loud, far too alive, ringing false and true all at once. A revelation, an enigma… erosive and empowering. Cloud grabbed his head, his suffering piercing, paralyzing. Vertigo took hold, he grunted. His hands tightened into fists, tugging his blonde hair in a vain attempt to ease the agony.

Suddenly, there was an inescapable grasp around Cloud’s wrist, followed by a gentle tug.

The pain ceased at the touch.

A glove clad hand pulled his own away from his head, coaxing and careful. Cloud followed the appendage up its connected arm, toward the armored pauldron, and came face to face with Sephiroth. The silvered man regarded him placidly at first, mako tinged eyes unreadable, analytical and seeking. The cyan orbs flickered, and for an astonishing moment, Cloud swore his enemy’s eyes were amorous and lucid – concerned even.

For his wellbeing?

Cloud pushed the thought away before it could root itself.

Another blink, and a sardonic smirk etched itself on the broader man’s visage, replacing the ephemeral tenderness. Slitted pupils blew wide, they filled with manic light, a different sort of ardor. The Sephiroth Cloud knew.

Sephiroth tutted, mocking the younger man. His voice deep, honeyed and smooth. With a biting undercurrent of… smugness? An emotiveness the norm for the man, callous and mocking. “Careful now.”

Another shift, Sephiroth’s expression softened, a mild chastisement upon his lips. His slitted pupils dilated again, thinning, exposing the glee of his cyan orbs. As if letting Cloud in on a secret meant for his ears alone, velvet and rich, he continued. “That which lies ahead… does not yet exist.”

Sephiroth’s smirk widened into a smile, searching Cloud’s slack jawed visage for a yet unknown answer.

Cloud was not forthcoming. Indeed, he knew not how to be.

Recalling himself the blonde’s azure orbs blazed in contempt.  He briskly pulled himself away from the silvered man’s hold. Sephiroth allowed it, his bejeweled orbs unrelenting. Cloud caught his eye and leaped back, putting space between them. The other man remained in place, watchful, analytical. Cloud stiffened, prepared for an inevitable clash. Sephiroth minded his reaction little, relaxing his hold on Masamune whilst he turned his back on the blonde.

Cloud was no threat, not here.

Never here.

The silvered man’s head tilted upward regarding the starry expanse, bearing witness to the ebb and flow of galaxies. Their energy vibrant, a contrast to the dead star under their feet. Unseen by the blonde, Sephiroth’s gaze gentled, returning to its amorous sheen, in awe of the majestic sight of light and life before him.

A Watcher in all but name.

A shallow wind blew, lifting the corners of Sephiroth’s ebony jacket like fluttering wings. The fleeting sensation bore the echoes of a caress, of slender fingers carding through the lengthy tresses. Love and life pressed upon his lips by another’s ghostly kiss, the sensation imprinted upon his very soul.

No, not here. Not anymore.

Though cyan eyes remained rivetted toward the stars, Sephiroth deigned to acknowledge Cloud. The heartless angel unwilling to release the thinning tether of mental clarity that imbued this sacred place. A place wholly of their future, far away from Calamity’s siren song. “Our world will become a part of it… one day.”

Sephiroth frowned, catching a glimpse of gold and white amongst the nebula, fleeting and familiar. His resolve was clear, resonant with finality. “But I… will not end.”

A pause, his cyan orbs widened, bearing witness to a miracle unseen by his reluctant guest. Sephiroth’s gaze tinged with longing, a promise in his every utterance as sanity etched itself unto his handsome features. Meeting the unseen eyes of another, he swore to his counterpart. “Nor will I have you end.”

Another beat, silence befell them.

A stillness settled.

Cloud frowned, his lips pursed. The surroundings disturbed him, an echo of unnatural rightness permeated his bones. Cloud’s fractured mind pieced a truth he should not yet know. Sensing a matter of import just out of reach. He hesitated, contemplating whether or not he should indulge the other man. Nevertheless, Cloud steeled himself and took a deep breath through his nose, decided. “This is…?”

The blonde knew the answer with a level of clarity he should not have. He waited for a response all the same, befuddled by the turn of events.

Sephiroth’s eyes befell Cloud, his present reasserting itself as he regarded him. Another pause stemmed between the pair while the silvered man rifled his cluttered mind for satisfactory words. The letters floated in and out of consciousness, debated and then discarded. His cyan orbs roved over the crease of the blonde’s brow, his counterpart appearing just as contemplative as he. Sephiroth suppressed a chuckle, amity evident in the molten heat of his gaze.

Another ghostly echo entered Sephiroth’s consciousness, this time welcoming. For they were the whispers of a trusted source, whose intents remained pure. He mulled the words over, satisfied with their revelation.

A pause veiled them, heavy with the weight of expectation.

Eventually, the silvered man answered, as if repeating a truth Cloud should already be aware of. Perhaps he was. “The edge of creation.”

The declaration struck a chord, azure eyes widened before a furrow settled once again on his brow. Cloud’s thoughts spiraled, at a loss at the rightness of this place, of Sephiroth’s answer.

Sephiroth approached leisurely, lest he startle the man across from him. Cloud froze at the approach, his frame shivered in anticipation. Sephiroth found what he was searching for in the burn of the other man’s fiery scrutiny, etched in his fetching sapphire orbs. “Cloud, lend me your strength.”

The silvered man stopped a mere meter before the blonde and lifted his hand, an offer of amnesty in the gesture. There was a plea in his whisper, soft and welcoming, seeking refuge in his soulmate. “Let us defy destiny… together.”

The proposal stupefied Cloud, causing his stare to fall toward Sephiroth’s outstretched palm. The blonde swore he saw his own pale digits rest within the other man’s grasp. The sensation of supple, worn leather electric against his skin. Sephiroth’s larger hand closed around Cloud’s smaller one as he tugged him closer. Losing his footing at the momentum, the blonde fell into the silvered man’s exposed chest. Strong arms encompassed him in a solemn embrace, the sheer rightness of the act took the blonde’s breath away.

For a terrifying moment, Cloud almost said yes.

His heart lamented in whispered despair when he chose otherwise.

Cloud’s fists clenched at his side, his reality settling around him. The blonde nowhere near the silvered man, let alone within the circle of his arms. Cloud reached behind him for his buster sword and leapt away a second time, a practical chasm between them. He unsheathed his blade and pointed the metal edge toward his… enemy.

Cloud shook his head, firm denial flowed from his lips. His azure orbs piercing and predatory, a wolf coiled to pounce at his foe. “Never.”

Sephiroth huffed, tickled by his defiance, as if expecting it. He lowered his hand, palm empty whilst he closed his eyes in contemplation. Sephiroth absorbed the moment and ruminated. Memories of a bygone time, another life, crossed his mind. An identical pair of azure orbs, piercing, avid, and filled with uninhibited adoration regarded the silvered man behind his closed lids. Sephiroth’s visage relaxed, at peace with himself and what was to come.

So alike… yet so different… stunning…

Sephiroth smirked. Mako orbs bright and fueled with untold passion, meeting Cloud’s glare gleefully. Adrenaline flowed through the silvered man’s veins whilst he lifted Masamune over his shoulder, the blade pointed toward his… everything. Sephiroth fell into a battle stance, the epitome of a coeurl’s dangerous grace.

A final pause crossed between them, the stillness serene. A renewed bout of anticipation settled.

In a blink Cloud leapt toward Sephiroth, their blades meeting in a deadly dance of steel. The blonde moved with purpose, nimble and forceful in his attacks. The silvered man met each strike with equal force, staying in place, immovable as he avoided and defended against the onslaught. The swordsmen weaved in and out of the blitz, intimately aware of the other’s next action before it occurred.

At last, their blades clashed, their respective strengths trapping them in a bind. Their eyes met, time infinitesimal and eternal. Fury evident in the grit of Cloud’s teeth, yet that too lasted little. Azure orbs widened; slack jawed at the sight which met him between the crossed swords.

Sephiroth was smiling.

Cloud’s gut roiled.

The silvered man became pleased at the shift in the air, he purred. “Not yet.”

His reaction burned in Cloud’s veins, causing him to loosen his hold on the buster sword. Doing so gave Sephiroth the opening he needed, he ended their bind with a broad swipe, overwhelming the blonde with the arch of the impact. Before the older man could grab him, Cloud took a mighty leap backwards, off-balance in his landing.

Victory at hand, Sephiroth rushed forward in a brisk stride, his legendary sword poised to strike downward. Cloud fumbled with hardly enough time to block. Shifting the angle of his strike at the last moment, Sephiroth swiped upward, disarming the blonde. The force of his new attack sent the weighted mass of the buster flying behind the shorter man. Cloud turned his back toward his enemy, watching his sword stab itself into the solid rock of the dead star.

The blonde’s frustration grew palpable, utterly at his opponent’s mercy.

Sephiroth stood tall, Masamune’s blade pointed toward the ground. His grip relaxed as he approached the other man’s defenseless back, his cyan orbs roved over Cloud’s form fondly – yearning evident in the caress of his gaze. The broad man huffed out a tiny laugh and leaned over the blonde, his smile sharpened into a teasing edge.

Sephiroth reveled in their closeness, breathing his svelte counterpart in. The strength of Cloud’s delicate shoulders, the fragility of his beauty, the refinedness of his limbs, the pureness of his heart… and the depths of his anger. He marveled at the miracle of his existence, the significance of Cloud’s presence in this place, in this time, not lost on him.

Sephiroth’s face neared, his lips brushed over the sensitive shell of Cloud’s ear, the touch forbidding, fascinated by the softness of his skin. His breath tickled the other’s neck, summoning another shiver from Cloud’s spine, pulling the blonde from his one-track irritation.

The silvered man wrapped his free arm around Cloud’s slender waist, his words another promise filled with expectation. “Seven seconds till the end. Time enough for you. Perhaps.”

Cloud’s downy spikes caressed Sephiroth’s lips. He noted the pinkness of his ear, the flush tantalizing. Another warm puff of breath extracted a different sort of shiver from his soulmate, along with a gasp.

One filled with want, with promise.

The silvered man felt his counterpart’s abdomen tighten under his hand. Cloud’s muscles contracted, suppressing a groan and a few other alluring reactions along with it.

Sephiroth wanted nothing more than to spirit him away. Far away, to never return. He satisfied himself with teasing him instead, his words a hum, a delicate sensation. “But what will you do with it? Let’s see.”

Cloud’s eyes widened at Sephiroth’s proximity, heat pressed against his neck. Sephiroth made silent contact, just above his collar where silken hair met skin. The kiss was chaste, the silvered man’s lips plush and feathery light.

Another echo of familiarity took hold. Cloud felt his knees weaken, his body reacting in practiced, yet unfamiliar ways to the tiny display of affection.

A flicker of an image, white and gold glimmered at the corner of his eye, a memory not Cloud’s own arose.

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A firm, nude body, muscled strength encompassed him from behind. The larger man slotted into place perfectly against the contours of his own nude frame, a curtain of silver hair fell over his azure eyes. Nimble fingers roved over Cloud’s abdomen, his rosy chest, and his ruddier shoulders. The adventurous digits slipped down the blonde’s waist and met their journey’s end at his hips. Plush lips followed in their wake, mapping out the svelte man’s spine and scars, tantalizing and no less venerating. The larger hands continued to caress and honor him, meticulous and gentle in their exploration of every limb. Cloud’s own fingers slid over the muscled arms which held him, ending their journey at the other’s larger hand.

Their fingers interwove, their legs tangled together, limbs slotted into place like matching pieces of a puzzle.

The blonde tugged and their positions shifted.

At his mercy, Cloud overpowered his partner and rolled their bodies, their bedspread a tangled mess below them. The other man laid on his broad back, his long hair a halo around him. Cloud found himself face to face with Sephiroth’s chiseled features and ardent cyan eyes, the other man’s sharp gaze feasting upon his flushed naked frame. The blonde straddled his hips, his toned thighs taut whilst he bound Sephiroth below him. The silvered man’s body vibrated below him with laughter, open and free, a willing prisoner. He freed his hands from Cloud’s hold and traversed the expanse of the smaller man’s outer thighs. Sephiroth’s strokes sparked an inner heat Cloud could not suppress, goosebumps stoking in the wake of his ministration. The blonde gasped as his lover fondled his abdomen next and teased lower, Cloud sighed at the sensation of those fingers roving up and away from their intended prize. Sephiroth instead squeezed his golden one’s hips in challenge, meeting his passionate stare head on.

Cloud’s lips quirked, impish. He rolled his hips slowly, the friction taunting.

Sephiroth sat up soon after, his arms tightened around Cloud’s svelte form once more. Cloud nuzzled into the intimate embrace, his willingness to remain in the other’s hold palpable whilst he settled on Sephiroth’s lap. The blonde’s athletic legs wrapped around his partner’s back, locking him in place. A different sort of battle of wills began and ended between the two.

An instance of a moment, a brief respite for what was to come.

Sephiroth’s digits found their prize, Cloud gasped at his lover’s victory, a willing recipient to his ministrations.

An eternity passed, or was it an instant? The blonde body was alight, a blaze of glory awakened and burned his nerves to ash. Its triumphant arrival released between their bodies.

There was a slow breach, followed by a piercing sensation, substantial and throbbing inside Cloud’s velvet heat. Sephiroth’s held his counterpart closer, statuesque at the feeling of the smaller man around him. Cloud was prepared to accept him, but Sephiroth was never satisfied by acceptance alone. Turmoil palpable, the only sign of life from Sephiroth was his ragged breathing, each puff against Cloud’s neck an oath of their own. The prospect of seriously harming his soulmate too real, too tangible in every twitch made by his rebellious form. Minor though they were thanks to the silvered man’s commendable restraint, it was a matter of time before his hips moved of their own volition. The urge to pillage the cavernous warmth grew as Sephiroth was swallowed, bit by laborious bit until he was sheathed completely.

Cloud held him closer, flush and exultant once they joined. The blonde murmured comfort in the broader man’s silver hair, his words ineligible and husky, absolving the other of unwarranted guilt. Sephiroth eased, his strong shoulders drooped minutely. Cloud rested their clammy foreheads together and nodded against the other man. He wrapped his arms around his strong shoulders, the blonde’s slender fingers carded through the lengthy tresses, his touch compassionate, gentle and sweet. Sephiroth nuzzled their noses affectionately and pecked his golden one’s rosy lips, the buds supple to the touch, love and life in every press.

The pair moved and found a rhythm, reuniting again and again. Their moans, groans, and cries of pleasure a harmonious symphony all its own, a rapture of its own kind. It was wanton and exposing for both men. The remaining barriers between them stripped away, hesitancy fading into the abyss.

Their lips met again, the kiss a homecoming.

Cloud was whole, he was safe… He was in the arms of his soulmate.

Vulnerable, desired, protected, accepted… loved. They both were… Cloud yielded to Sephiroth’s ardor and came apart in utter bliss; in the throes of –

There was a rush of air, then a void. The warmth of the silvered man’s frame disappeared from the blonde’s clothed back. Pulse racing and bereft, Cloud turned and caught sight of a floating, black feather as it fell to the ground. The plume all that remained of the other man.

He refused to acknowledge the feeling of loss that permeated the very fiber of his being. The memory of their passions slipped away from his mind, taken by the currents of time immemorial. Before long it was gone, nothing more than a bygone intangible dream of what will be.

It was at that moment Cloud’s azure eyes widened, his face tilted upwards in amazement. He absorbed the truth of the nebula for the first time, mortal at the edge of the universe, creation at his fingertips whilst he stood below the ephemeral form of the stars.

He felt paradoxically small and larger than life.

Cloud could scarce understand why. The future indiscernible in this hallowed realm.

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Chapter Text

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Some Time Later…

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The sunlight dappled in-between the canopy of verdant leaves. The wind blew through the bows of the trees, the branches danced in greeting as their party passed. The sky was a clear blue overhead, the weather mild and in their favor. The gravel crunched underfoot, the soil buoyant and bouncy with each step. Perfect wilderness conditions for traversal.

Cloud and the others were on their way to Bill’s Chocobo Ranch, their journey stalled thanks to the dangers hidden in the watery deeps of the marshes. To reach the Mythril Mines, and their next destination, they needed the large avian’s to pass through.

Or at least that’s what the girls wanted.

Cloud sighed at the thought.

I’m a real push-over, aren’t I?

And the others knew it too, much to his chagrin.

If only the start of our journey reflected the weather.

Avalanche’s escape from Midgar was nothing short of harrowing. Kalm wasn’t any better, not after Cloud’s traumatic trip down memory lane. His retelling of Sephiroth’s dark spiral no less painful than the night itself. No matter how much time passed, the flames of Nibelheim still burned hot against Cloud’s skin. The scent of burning wood, the headiness of charred flesh… the iron tinge of blood in the air…

Tifa, her father’s death… Sephiroth’s death…

The silvered man’s reappearance in the inn’s silent hallway afterwards was no less jarring. Cloud’s heart ached, the reopened wound from his recollection festered. Sephiroth’s presence a sharp reminder of the blonde’s loss, of his failures toward the man who was once his friend… his hero.

His village… his mom… the man Sephiroth once was… Cloud mourned them all.

I made it worse. Why can’t I save anyone?

The blonde didn’t have many people he cherished in his life, and talking about the departed made the loneliness too real. Too rooted.

Cloud shook his head and cringed, recollecting his private conversation with Tifa that night at the rooftop of the inn.

Goddess, I really fucked up.

Not all of his loved ones were gone, Tifa’s existence proved that. She lived and breathed… and had the fatal scar to prove she survived. He shouldn’t have let Sephiroth’s mocking get to him.

Cloud swore once the coast was clear, he would make certain to apologize to Tifa. Metaphorically kicking himself in the teeth by fumbling his talk with her was the absolute highlight of his journey.

Why am I like this?

What was he thinking, accusing her of being dead?

Maybe if Cloud asked nicely, Tifa would do him the honor of kicking his teeth out for him.

Not one of his greatest moments, to be sure. Then again, the ex-SOLDIER lost count of those instances far too easily. His moments of social stuntedness disappointingly numerous. Cloud hardly had time to lament his stupidity, however. Their party spent the night in the small town, and morning barely greeted them before they had to leave its secure walls. Shin-Ra hot on their heels, the party escaped unnoticed through Kalm’s underground tunnel system and departed to parts unknown.

Cloud mentally shrugged. At least the day was nice, the Grasslands were the epitome of fair today.

Barret and Red led the party up ahead, Tifa and Aerith followed suit in the middle, with Cloud trailing in the rear.

The wolf not far behind.

The blonde paused in his stride.

There it was again, in the distance just beyond the tree line. Cloud could hardly make heads or tails of why the creature was here, much less why it followed their rag tag team the way it did.

That wolf… it’s strange.

Or at least, Cloud assumed it was a wolf. It didn’t look like any of the wolves back in Nibelheim, and the species didn’t travel this far south into the Grasslands anyway. Not a coyote either, the shape of the muzzle and tail were different.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the creature was familiar. Pretty too, in that feral way certain wild animals tended to be. The wolf had long, golden fur, a slight yet toned build, and piercing blue eyes which seemed aglow in the shadows. Intelligent and observant.

Well, one of them had to be. Cloud certainly didn’t feel like the brightest bulb at the moment. Not after Tifa and Aerith’s cajoling him into renting a Chocobo.

The party trekked onwards as they progressed through the winding dirt roads, none the wiser to their lupine interloper. Even Red remained unawares while they continued on their way.

Why was it here?

Cloud was sure he saw it before.

At the outskirts of Kalm? Or was it at Midgar?

The Wastelands?

Yeah… The outcrop… where Za--…

A sharp pain hit the back of Cloud’s eyes, clawing and persistent. All was white noise as he squeezed his azure orbs shut. There was a melody, the worlds hymn. His surrounding far too bright, far too loud, far too alive, his blood pulsed in his veins.

An enigma, a revelation… an awakening.

Cloud groaned as the discomfort persisted whilst he shuffled forward, edging away from the party and meandering into the dark recesses of his periphery. His unfocused gaze skimmed beyond the dirt roads and into the tree line. Cloud’s unconscious stride led him to a clearing, uncovering the cosmic translucent waters of a lake. At the center of the luminously still surface, he caught a glimpse of the golden wolf.

A blink and the clear sky disappeared, leaving a glittering galaxy in its place. Cloud’s eyes trailed the constellations, meeting the meridian horizon of the still lake and the stars. The wolf waited for him patiently, meeting his regard unflinching.

No, not the wolf, a person. A person with azure eyes. The orbs entrenched in the deep reflection of the sky, gleaming with internal starlight... no, not stars, a sword? Or was it a …shield?

No, definitely a sword, and it wasn’t in their eyes, they held it in their hand. The shield was a… black bike?

Cloud was sure, it was definitely a person; a wolf can’t lean against a bike, let alone a shield.

For the briefest of moments, Cloud swore he’s ridden that bike before.

How? He’s never seen it until now. He would have definitely remembered a ride that gorgeous. Had to be custom, ebony bodied and gold rimmed.

Fenrir, her name’s Fenrir. I built her…

He did… didn’t he?

The stars receded, making way for a sunrise which surrounded them in all directions. The rays caught in the other being’s blond hair, gold in the light. The same gold as the wolf.

He wasn’t alone, not as far as Cloud could tell. He was definitely a man. A man surrounded by wolves, a pair of them, one raven and brawny, the other auburn and lithe. The man was slight yet toned. His svelte form held power immovable, immutable... Inhuman. However, he was still mortal at the spark of formation. The universe at his fingertips whilst he stood below the ephemeral form of the Grasslands trees.

No, not the Grasslands, the trees glowed.

The Planet was not dead below Cloud’s feet, though it was a close call. The pulse of life weak beyond this focal point.

We’re at the edge of creation… the touchstone between life and death… the beginning and the end…

The other blonde smiled, satisfied at the revelation. He was dressed in black… or was it white? The pale sleeves flapping and gossamer against the non-existent wind. A furred warrior’s mantle slipped off his firm shoulders, exposing a high collar and pale skin which glowed with an inner light.

Cloud blinked. The man was definitely in black, the complete opposite of white. A single pauldron bearing a silver wolf gleamed under the stars, Fenrir. His half robes billowed and shifted against his fatigues.

A sight Cloud’s mind could accept, a moment in time closer to his present.

Wings of light and dark spread afar…

The image shifted like the gleaming pool beneath their feet. For it was the same blond man, a man who stood both in, and out, of time. His gaze celestial, overwhelming and intense. In spite of that, it fit his delicate visage, pretty even. His eyes were a familiar blue tinged with mako, no the ebb and flow of the Lifestream.

But isn’t that what Mako was? The Lifestream made manifest?

A distant reflection, startling identical to him, to Cloud.

Wait… it was him; he is Clo-

No, the man had his face, except he was a goddess? A goddess’ eyes.

A warrior manifested in flesh and bone. The sky - the stars, in his regard.

Azure and bright. Because I chose to be this way.

A star shower… rejuvenating rain… life resting on her shield… and death upon her - his blade…

Supple lips moved without a sound, his intonations resonated deep within Cloud’s very soul. The words slipped from Cloud’s lips like a gently lapping stream, paradoxically ancient and youthful. Foreshadowing and his current reality.

Time overlapped. In an incandescent moment, the future became the present.

Cloud was whole, was one.

A mortal man’s oxygen entered his lungs, a goddess’ breath escaped him in its stead.

The inheritor of Her sword and shield, her gift everlasting in his very blood, coursing through his veins… the Lifestream itself.

No, not the Lifestream – not yet… soon.

Cloud’s voice wrang in his own ears, his mind clear and bright. His very being mended as he stood firm, within creations reach at the center of the still waters.

“The Reunion… our… Sephiroth… please… save h-- stop h--…”

A wringing in his ears, another blink.

The words were frustratingly intangible, unknowable as Cloud met his own azure eyes tinged with mako in the expanse. The younger man stood at the water’s edge; first class SOLDIER uniform worn like the false cloak it was. Cloud mourned. His orbs brimmed with unshed tears at the wretched sight before him, his past immutable. Old guilt bubbled in his gut and caused his heart to stutter for the irrefutable.  

In order to grow, one must be tempered by one’s follies.

Shame eased itself into loneliness at the thought, the loss of his soulmate an unbearable agony. He was here, he could tell. He just missed him by a small bit. Cloud’s breath hitched at the sheer prospect of coming so close, of risking himself like this, and it being for nothing. Unable to hide the stab of betrayal from himself, his counterpart gone from his side for too long.

Had he arrived sooner…

Or was it too late?

After all this time, so many clashes, so much progress, gone in an instant because Cloud allowed himself to… to love again.

A love reciprocated was a dangerous force.

Transformative and life changing.

Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul…

Just as suddenly as it was found, clarity was lost, his wings stripped away.

He didn’t have them, not yet.

Cloud blinked, fraying at the seams. The man to be – the goddess made mortal and manifest – was gone from the lakes center. His wolf companions with him, spirited away to parts unknown.

He was too broken… too shattered to keep the Lifestream in his veins… only blood remained.

Mortal, malleable, mercurial… human.

It felt wrong, to be human. Was he truly that?

Human?

Cloud needed to be human. If he wasn’t, he would never be what he will-be.

He reached out toward the edge of creation, unable to step into his future.

He clasped a feather instead. Pitch black against the starry sunset.

It was at that moment he became a silent witness to a reunion of a different kind.

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For you are beloved by the goddess…

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Her heir… the inheritor of her gift…

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Hero of the dawn…

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Healer of worlds…

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Chapter Text

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“You just don’t get it at all, there’s not a thing I don’t cherish…

…including you…”

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Sephiroth refused to leave him – the Planet’s newly crowned goddess. He returned to the blonde again and again, his immortality practically Sephiroth’s own. They fought, they killed, they conquered one another. Until eventually, his goal was in his grasp.

Much to his own surprise, at the final moment Sephiroth denied himself the touch of creation, the universe within reach. For what he coveted belonged now to another. To obtain it, Cloud would need to be cut down.

Sephiroth was shocked to discover he hated the thought of that.

His goal was no longer worth it. The sword and shield in Cloud’s regard an unexpected hurdle, far too costly, far too heavy a price to pay.

Cloud was all he had.

So, Sephiroth went away. Leaving his better half to his peace -- to his family and friends.

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Many decades past and Sephiroth, the once nightmare made manifest, was practically forgotten by the living.

The Planet began to heal.

That is until the blonde fell into solitude at his companion’s natural end. Love and loss in tandem, resonant in the Lifestream.

Wrinkled and gray, Cloud started to seek Sephiroth out instead. The elderly man desired an end to it all. Listless after decades of the same, the dearly departed long gone and one with the flow he guarded.

Sephiroth refused him, unwilling to be an accomplice to his self-destruction. His denial did not deter the other man. Cloud went beyond his expectations and continued to seek him out, this time for his company. Sephiroth allowed it, finding it a passing amusement, at first.

It was simply another way to break his nemesis.

The world held its breath.

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Bit by bit time flowed on, the decades morphed into centuries. Another multitude of lifetimes passed the pair by, and on the generations went. The flow of it smoothed out Sephiroth’s jagged edges, his guard as withered as his own wrinkled visage. It took little effort for Cloud to penetrate the last of his defense’s vestiges, and touch vulnerable warmth.

The greyed man could barely recall who reached out to whom first, it hardly mattered. For Sephiroth had the universe within his reach, and it was Cloud all along. They simply… fit together. Gravitated and in orbit.

Perhaps they were both simply... lonely.

They became friends, their link built on mutual respect and adoration. Developing a close companionship in their twilight days.

A mercy Sephiroth did not deserve, Cloud was too good for him.

For the first time he put down his blade and parted with his warrior's garb.

Sephiroth felt lighter.

The world released a sigh.

...

...

He found himself at the elderly blonde’s side again and again, their connection irrefutable. A bond not even death can sunder. Sephiroth insisted he trapped Cloud to him. Alas, Cloud did not see it that way, believing the greyed man deserving of a rebirth, of his regained humanity… his heart.

With time and healing, the madness caused by their pasts and the Calamity’s influence were washed away, his sins absolved in Cloud's eyes.

Relearning how to be – well – human, was a challenge. Sephiroth was once isolated, only good as a weapon to those he once served. One to be unsheathed and used to fell his enemies, then stored or discarded once his usefulness came to an end. Too few bothered to penetrate the steel and unearth the man underneath. Those that tried all perished one way or another.

Cloud simply held Sephiroth’s wrinkled hand at his quiet admittance, commiserating in his woes, in his loneliness, in his desire to be accepted by another.

Reciprocal and so alike, yet so different.

Their differences mattered little.

Cloud refused to let go of Sephiroth’s hand since, Sephiroth held on just as fiercely.

The Lifestream flowed on, old allies and enemies returning and departing the Planet's surface in their destined cycle of death and rebirth.

'Hate breeds hate, a cycle which can't be broken...'

But it was.

The world offered Sephiroth a little compassion.

He would be remiss not to reciprocate.

...

...

There were many discovered firsts for Sephiroth. Many lessons learned, both alone and with his chosen companion. Many moments the once heartless angel could scarce fathom experiencing before meeting Cloud. What was common for others, a luxury for himself.

Humanity, life itself, the greatest of teachers.

The world showed him grace and he basked in its blessing, wary of the day this peace would be ripped away.

...

...

By the time the aged angel realizes he was in love, it was far too late to stop himself from falling. And fall he did, bruising and hard. Sephiroth was at an utter loss on how to express it, let alone how to determine whether or not Cloud reciprocated his ardor.

The elderly blond was just as emotionally stunted as the greyed man. At least, according to that Cetra friend of his, Aerith, whom occasionally communed with them both from the Planet’s flow.

He needn’t wait long for the answer.

The world healed, and so did he.

...

...

Perhaps his fumbling’s were plainer than Sephiroth realized, or perhaps their departed allies took pity on the men from their rest in the Lifestream. He couldn’t place when exactly the shift between them occurred. There was hardly a foreshadowed sign, nor a whisper of an inclination to foretell Cloud making the first move.

Blushing far redder than what was healthy, the elderly blonde was… cute in his efforts to pull Sephiroth’s face closer to his, the taller man bent to his shorter partners level gladly. The pair of immortals sealed their blooming affections with a chaste kiss, love and life in every press. One kiss, turned to two, two to three, and three to an innumerable more. Falling upon one another like the cleansing rain. Their vitality restored as consequence, returned to their physical peak in that simple gesture of fealty. The burden of their previous lives washed away, wrinkles faded into dewy skin, greys saturated into silver and gold, muscles and limbs rejuvenated into corded strength.

It was as if the very stars awaited this learned first -- this revelation. The pair’s returned youth their reward for mastering this lesson.

Sephiroth hardly needed incentive to proceed further.

It was the first time of many the pair joined, their bodies slotting into place as they made love. An intimate creation of universes all their own thanks to their renewed vigor, reacquainting and rediscovering themselves in the act. Cloud was stunning - he was always stunning. His delicate face so enraptured, so elegant in the throes of passion, so willingly taken again and again by the other. Sephiroth wanted more, Cloud reciprocated. He brought the silvered man to his metaphorical knees, practically making him beg the golden man for his benevolence. Another newly discovered mercy Sephiroth fain to comprehend he deserved.

The pair were one. Meant to be in the most unexpected of ways.

Unexpected, but not unwelcome, he and Cloud complemented each other. Deeply devoted, as lovers were want to do.

The world flourished, Sephiroth's horizons widened.

...

...

It was Cloud’s idea they be wedded; he’s done it before, and he was adamant in making an ‘honest’ man out of Sephiroth. The silvered man was hardly husband material. Nevertheless, he consented. Another first for him: a life partner.

Their union was etched on ink and parchment some time later, familiar strangers supporting them all the way. The marriage legal and binding in the eyes of whatever human chose to care. It was only a piece of paper; an item destined to fade and crumple with age. Alas, what it represented was eternal, another lesson Sephiroth learned and accepted gladly.

Nevertheless, Sephiroth wanted a symbol of permanence, Cloud agreed readily to the sentiment but was at a loss on what to do.

Their giggly female neighbors (and one very persistent flower seller), insisted the silvered man gift something unique. The local bar keep -- another familiar stranger, a woman who was Tifa no longer-- suggested jewelry.

The middle aged woman laughed at the face of Sephiroth's befuddlement. "Something tell's me that chocobo brain of a hubby of yours would like an item he can carry. He's sentimental that one."

it was a nugget of knowledge carried from her previous life, one Sephiroth accepted gratefully.

She pointed him in the direction of the metalworks.

The lesson of spontaneity well received, the silvered man surprised the blond with a set of rings. The pair of adamantine bands were etched with the icon of Fenrir on the inside, the legendary wolf a symbol of his husband. Representative of the one person who held the silvered man’s heart in his smaller, yet sturdy, hands.

Sephiroth’s mood swelled at the sight of his husband’s tears, each drop brimmed with happiness.

And together they remained for eons after, exploring the world and its vastness hand in hand, living amongst those who also dwelled upon it. The Planet turned, life breathed unto its surface and inside its core: fauna, flora, and humanity.

Her cycle unbowed, unbroken, the pair became Watchers of her star.

The world was saved.

...

...

Until Cloud went further, his selflessness going a step too far.

At the end of days, at the edge of all life, death soon followed. Her cycle broken and at its fated end. Except Sephiroth could not die, could not be one with the Lifestream, could not end.

Alongside, but not a part. Beholden, but not united. Weighted by the remnants of his false mother’s cells. An ironic purgatory.  

Gaia desired to punish Sephiroth. He agreed he deserved it. It mattered little if his actions were done under the Calamity's influence, under her puppeteering. He could have fought, could have done more.

But he was too weak, and Cloud was too good. Too good to a man who has fallen from grace... too unworthy of the redemption his beloved gave him.

Sephiroth was all that was left of the Calamity, after all. Though her consciousness was long dead, her cells remained... she was half of him... a bastardization of motherhood. He was her susceptible, weakling of an heir. One who failed to pull against her strings and succumbed to her whims. Whose hands dripped with the blood of her enemies, of the Planet's children. The second coming of Jenova... her legacy...

It mattered little that Sephiroth never wanted her throne to begin with.

He was a fool who lived a fools dream long enough, and it was time for him to wake up.

Gaia's justice made itself manifest, and Cloud disagreed with Her judgement. He refused to leave him, stubborn to the last whilst the fetters coiled from the Planet's arcane circle. Sephiroth stepped forward anyway to face his fate.

Cloud reached Sephiroth first and held his larger hand in both of his. The couple's eyes met, loving and loyal. The blonde smiled, reassuring and courageous. "I love you Sephiroth."

The slighter man tugged Sephiroth down and kissed him. The silvered man reciprocated, drowning, desperate, and passionate, expecting the exchange to be their last. The taller man murmured sweetly upon Cloud's rosy lips. "I love you Cloud." 

His beloved did the unthinkable.

A different arcane circle formed around them, Cloud's eyes began to glow. He pulled Sephiroth into another kiss before the other could question it, amorous and soul-wrenching. The silvered man felt himself light ablaze down to his very molecular level, and yet he felt no pain, only the molten heat of his partner's ardor. The pair's veins became luminous below their skin, phosphorescent. Sephiroth's a sinful black, and Cloud a divine white.

Slowly the tarring black drained away, leaving an evergreen hue in its place. Whereas the purity of the white became sullied, gaining a hellish red gleam. Cloud groaned but did not stop, his slender fingers tangled in his lovers hair, keeping him in place as he re wrote the very fabric of Sephiroth's essence. The silvered man fell into a euphoria, unable to resist as his mind fell into a haze. He sensed, more so than felt, his full weight fall into his Cloud's stalwart arms. 

The arcane circles merged, Gaia's might encroached. 

Cloud hugged Sephiroth close, feeling his husband come to from the haze. He cupped his cheek and kissed the taller man's forehead, a consecration as much as a baptism. "And now, you're free."

The goddess made flesh pushed Sephiroth away, the arcane circles overlapped, trapping Cloud within its boundary.

By purifying the silvered man of Jenova's remnants, by taking on the burden of the Calamity’s cells into his mortally divine form, Cloud trapped himself by fates design. He too had cells, once, purified by the Lifestream itself. Cloud did not care and sullied himself anyway, and made himself the world's enemy.

Cloud rejected his destined voyage as the goddess, preferring instead to free his soulmate from his purgatory. He willingly stripped away his own freedom out of love for Sephiroth, turning his back on the peace which was promised by the Lifestream, refusing to rest alone.

All to liberate Sephiroth from Jenova's memetic prison.

The Planet's sentence made itself manifest, the blonde tangled himself in the fetters of creations making, banishing himself from the Lifestream in the process as the mythical shackles seared themselves on his skin. And in doing so, took on the silvered man’s punishment for himself.

For the first time Sephiroth's pupils rounded, cyan became oceanic. He saw the world unfold through the unenhanced eyes of a human's perception. His wings clipped.

He was mortal and infinitesimal. 

Cloud's agonized screams etched itself in Sephiroth's bones. His beloved fought against the maelstrom of the Flow all the same and lost, paradoxically larger than life and yet so small against Gaia Herself. In a moment of weakness, Cloud reached for him through the storm, Sephiroth's name falling from his lips.

Sephiroth did not hesitate, his new fragility did not matter. Not in the face of his soulmates pain. Instincts in overdrive, the broader man pushed through the cutting gusts and took the brunt of the vortex's onslaught, the Planet screeched against his rebellion and lashed out.

He did not care.

Sephiroth forced his way into the whorl and grazed Cloud's hand, staining himself once more with a drop of Calamity's sin. His eyes regressed to slits, cyan corrupting its natural oceanic beauty. Alas, just as suddenly as it appeared, the maelstrom ceased to be. 

All was silent, the silvered man bruised yet unbroken. Mere ilms away Cloud teetered, the iridescent fetters faded and vanished. Weakly the blonde reached out toward his love, his hand shook. "...Seph..."

Cloud lost consciousness soon after, battered and torn he collapsed. Sephiroth barely caught him before his delicate frame hit the dying ground. Sephiroth cradled the smaller man close, and he too cried out, his sobs a reflection of his own agony. Cloud bled sanguine, his essence soaked their bodies and the parched earth. Under the waning light of the stars above, the ichor of the Lifestream reflected in its crimson surface. 

The Planet did not care.

It was a martyrdom Sephiroth did not ask for, did not desire for the one man who fought so diligently, and so long for his hard-earned respite.

Only for the very world to so willing punish him for a kindness undeserved, turning Her back on Her long-time savior, on Her own reforged goddess.

Sephiroth refused the turn of events, desiring naught else than to take destiny into his own hands and change his beloved’s fate. To grant him the freedom nature refused to give.

Cloud was a person. He was not just a sword and shield. He was not a weapon to be unsheathed and pointed toward the Planet’s enemies, only to be stored or discarded once his usefulness came to an end.

Cloud deserved better than that.

Deserved better than him...

Cloud loves him, and Sephiroth loves him too.

The silvered man murmured brokenly against his soulmates dampened crown, his tears infinite. "...I'm so sorry..."

His world shattered.

...

...

...

Sephiroth healed his body, Cloud recovered under his care but he was not the same again.

Cloud never blamed him, Sephiroth wished he would. 

His beloved was frailer in his banishment from Gaia's grace. The golden man frayed and unbound, floating without anchor, unable to rejoin Gaia's flow as all other souls born on the Planet could. His birthright stripped away.

Sephiroth could not free him from his purgatory, powerless that he was against the worlds order. So he chose to float with him instead, turning his own back on his gained blessing.

He will not fade into the Lifestream... not without Cloud.

Together they continued their Watch on the waning Planet. Sinners cast out from the heavens.

Their ardor greater still, in spite of their suffering.

His world darkened.

...

...

...

The silver man devised a plan: to defy the very fabric of nature itself, diametrically opposed to Gaia's last guttering will.

Sephiroth shall return to the past, to the point of confluence, to devise a Reunion of his own making.

For if creation’s design refused his soulmate his due, he would simply rewrite the very fabric of nature itself.

To free his beloved goddess, he will become a true god – and Her antithesis.

He will save the world... his world.

"Cloud..."

...

...

...

For the first time in too long, the silvered man bore his warrior's garb, intent on his mission. He took a moment to observe his partner; the peace of his brow, the gentle slope of his nose, the lovely length of his lashes which touched his cheeks, the pout of supple lips, the golden spun down of his hair...

Despite his fragility, the blonde was luminous and divine under the moonlight, his true strength beating deep inside his heart.

Sephiroth kissed Cloud chastely whilst he slept, a gentle goodbye. His beloved continued to dream, undisturbed as his soulmate disappeared in the cloak of night. Leaving naught but an ebony feather behind.

The one winged angel flew.

…

...

...

...

...

...

...

Cloud's world shifted in a blink. The synergy between the pair disrupted by a familiar force, lured in by the golden one’s tenuous line.

A new presence, a tutting voice, deep and smooth as velvet. With a biting undercurrent of… concern? An emotiveness not the norm for the man, inhuman in a different sort of way to the goddess made flesh.

The golden one suppressed a smile, triumphant in his exhaustion. Not caring a whit about the newcomer’s frustration. The air charged, expectant.

Suddenly, there was an inescapable clasp around Cloud’s wrist, followed by a tug. Off kilter, the being pulled him away from the still waters, away from the figure of his future, from the truth of who he was, who he was meant to be. Unable to fight, unable to resist, the younger man could only lament his weakness with each step.

In a vain attempt to catch one last glimpse, the blonde veered away from his captor, petulant to the last, only to find his view obstructed. The kindred spirits of mortal and goddess hidden from one another thanks to a taller, broader frame cloaked in black leather. “Did I not warn you before? Careful now. That which lies ahead… does not yet exist. Nor will it, should you keep on this path.”

The tension was broken by a single whispered word, longing, wanting. Spoken by a voice Cloud recognized as his own, though the utterance did not escape his still lips. He abandoned his sword and shield. “…Sephiroth.”

The other immortal dropped their blade, the heavy steel landed with a clatter.

Another blink and the being vanished from the mortal’s side. The human an eavesdropper, an interloper, to the pair of supernovas beyond. Unable to act, unable to sway the events to come, a bystander to the revelations unfolding before him. Cloud’s mind fell into a haze, absorbed in his future.

A flash of silver strands at the edge of creation, of ebony feathers formed into a solitary wing. Covetous and protective whilst it surrounded the blond man – the goddess – who remained cloaked in white fabric and a warrior’s furred mantle. The purity a stark contrast to the black corruption encircling him. A gloved hand reached out in an invitation, one accepted by pale digits resting upon the silvered one’s palm.

He tugged the golden one closer, momentum pulled the other forward. Stalwart arms wrapped around ivory shoulders and svelte waist, breathing his salvation in. The future Cloud fell into Sephiroth’s arms willingly, yearning for the broader man’s hold as he rested his cheek against his armored pauldron. He wrapped his own arms around the other’s strong back, his grip white-knuckled on the man’s ebony jacket. The silvered man’s stoic visage melted, amorous and lucid, distant from the younger Cloud’s present, free from her Calamity…

An echo of what the taller man would become, what he once was, and what he could be…

Were it not for Je--

Sephiroth glanced over the downy spikes and met the past blonde’s gaze, the vastness of the universe between them as he embraced the future Cloud closer. His deft fingers roved the shorter man’s form, whether to reassure himself or his partner was unclear. Sephiroth’s stare remained unbroken, unnervingly so. The longer he met the ex-SOLDIER’s gaze, the more the former general’s past nipped at his heel like a malady. Madness shadowed his cyan irises, oscillating his pupils into thinner slits.

It was a mere heartbeat of a fear, one Sephiroth swore he left behind. A price he was willing to pay to succeed on his mission.

To be pulled so suddenly from his duty… he grew careless, placid even, in the familiarity of the past.

He should have known his beloved would not leave well enough alone. Cloud was stubborn, whether it be the past, present, or future.

Sephiroth glanced between the two blondes. So alike, yet so different. The younger trapped by his own delusions, as clouded as his namesake. His reality shattered, the pieces of himself waiting to be mended through the care and self-worth found in others. His freedom just out of reach.

On the other hand, you have the older Cloud, his Cloud. Willingly shattered and remade, tempered by the self-worth found within himself. Cloud was reborn anew, blood reforged into Lifestream in his veins.

Minerva’s sword and shield his inheritance.

Sephiroth should have known his own partner would make this difficult. Cloud had a talent for self-harm, for the convoluted. A magnet for trouble if there ever was one.

To be lured back to their present by such simple means?

Sephiroth could not resist the tether connecting them, the pull sonorous. Past, present or future, it mattered little, he would always be bound to the blonde. Upon sensing Cloud’s delicate mind waver and fracture, the imminent danger to his fragile life, Sephiroth flew forthwith to his side on instinct. Intent on saving him.

And flew straight into the future, his present, and into his One and Only’s gentle trap.

Only Cloud would put himself in danger like this to get his attention, and it worked. Who knew Sephiroth would end up saving him from himself?

Fondness bloomed, warming him. The silvered man smirked.

How manipulative, calculating even. The minx.

His own influence on him after all these innumerable years together, perhaps?

The distant Calamity screeched at the turn of his thoughts, horrified at the knowledge another held greater sway than she upon her once vessel.

The silver man shook his head, dispelling her clawing mental grip. Now was not the time to lose control.

Sephiroth focused on fueling his own righteous ire instead, visage flat and cold. “That was careless. You nearly shattered your own existence. And all to find me?”

The rest of his words remained unsaid; the one-winged angel found they were unneeded. Cloud already discerned Sephiroth’s suppressed disquiet at the mere mention of his reckless actions.

Sephiroth’s sanity returned as the blonde tightened his hold, Cloud’s full weight resting against him. The goddess world weary and exhausted, straining against the pain caused by the Lifestream in his veins. Soft puffs of breath tickled Sephiroth’s exposed chest, golden strands silken against his skin, tangible and real. This was a mere respite, Sephiroth knew this. It echoed in Cloud’s anguish, his other half’s desperation palpable as they remained in one another’s embrace. Each transient moment a refuge from the madness. His soulmate’s presence a soothing balm; a beacon.

Regrettably, the silver man’s clarity shall melt into the edges of the shadows soon enough. Though Calamity’s cries were a faint whisper in his ear, it was too late to prevent the inevitable. His connection to the past was already cemented into place with his rebellion. His being already began unifying with his past self’s corporeal form, deep in the Northern Crater. The Sephiroth of this time was fading, this present as fleeting as their embrace.

Cloud cupped the heartless angel’s cheeks, the metal of his wedding band a comfort against the other man’s skin, a waypoint for his psyche. Light and insistent, Cloud’s touch coaxed the broader man, prodding Sephiroth to acknowledge him beyond mere chastisement. Sephiroth turned away of his own volition from the past, from the younger blonde in the distance. He instead gazed upon his future, clarity reasserting itself by his golden partner’s ferventness. His Cloud was the purest of temptations, imbuing Sephiroth with renewed humanity. His withered heart pulsed, each beat an awakening.

Their eyes met and devastated the silvered man. Sheer willpower kept him from turning away again out of guilt. The azure currents of the other man’s orbs cracked through cyan stone, wearing them down to translucent smoothness. Sephiroth’s eyes softened, molten in its heat, laid bare in his lover’s regard. Despite his transgression he was welcome here, he was home.

Cloud’s intonations were a blessing and no less beseeching for it. “Sephiroth, this is my fate. Leave the past behind, stay with me.” A pale thumb grazed over petal lips, tempting the angel into surrender. “I miss you, please don’t go back. You’ve suffered enough.”

Sephiroth took a deep, patient breath, treading old ground. “I’ve suffered? You would rather punish yourself?”

The other shook his head and bit his bottom lip, forlorn. “Hypocrite. And what would you call this then?”

The silvered man raised an eyebrow, placid. “It changes nothing. I refuse to remain a bystander to your pain. Idleness does not become me, and I cannot accept this to be your fate. Not if it is in my power to ease your burdens, your agony.”

The crease of the blonde’s brow was a burden of their own. “The longer you remain in the past, the greater her influence over you becomes.”

Sephiroth said nothing, his silence sufficient admittance.

Cloud saw it then, the softening of his partner’s rigidity. Cyan eyes lidded, a match to his own wistfulness. He continued his entreaty. “Please you’ve come so far, you’re free. Don’t let yourself get corrupted a second time. I… I don’t want to lose you.”

Sephiroth kissed Cloud’s palms and held on tighter. Promise in his grip as his gloves creaked at the strain, his own wedding band dug into his skin under the leather. “Have I grown so predictable?”

Cloud froze in his hold, eyes widening as the realization settled. His shoulders slumped, his beautiful blue orbs watering. Unashamed at the show of weakness before his past self, he didn’t care. “Not at first, no. But… the signs… and when Aer-.” The golden one sighed, put upon. “This isn’t how I wanted this to end, and I know you don’t either.” He bit his bottom lip. “I just wanted you to be happy, to get the peace denied you for so long.”

The picture created was too grim, too much for Cloud to ignore. As the goddess, it prompted him to act. Only for his own actions to condemn the man he loved, furthering Sephiroth’s plans in weaponizing his Planet given gifts for his own machinations.

He should have never sent the Whispers… he should have trusted his friend more.

Sephiroth hummed, seeing right through his husband. “So, it was you. You helped her on her way.”

The golden man met Sephiroth’s eyes unflinching, dissatisfied by the turn of events. “If anyone can do it, she can… it’s…”

Cloud’s stare fell, resting on Sephiroth’s chest. His hands slipped from the other man’s hold and slid downward, stopping to rest on a leather-clad pectorals. Feeling more so than hearing the taller man’s heartbeat.

Azure eyes squeezed shut, refusing to allow his tears to fall. “…it’s too late for me… I’m not worth it. I don’t want you to die, not like this… There has to be another way.”

Sephiroth balked at the mere thought of refusing his other half, of hurting him more than he already has. Still, he would not yield, not this time.

Cloud was worth it.

More than he may ever know.

Perhaps that Cetra and I had more in common than I realized.

Sephiroth remained firm in his stance, practically begging in his own way. “… You once said the end was nigh… Cloud. But I will not end, nor will I have you end. I will fight against fate for us both. You will be set free.”

Sephiroth rested his forehead against Cloud’s own, the two men breathed each other in. Long silver tresses obscured the pair from the past blonde’s sight, a glimmering waterfall in the sea of black.

The younger Cloud heard Sephiroth’s fervor all the same, the syllables uttered from the angel an oath to his future self. Sephiroth cradled the back of the goddess’ head, coaxing the other to meet his eyes. “Destiny will be defied… I will save you.”

Save him? From what?

More words were exchanged between the lovers, floating and fading into the cosmos around them.

The ex-SOLDIER swore as he watched Sephiroth’s lips brush his future-self’s own. He involuntarily swallowed, feeling the light press of the kiss upon him. The younger blonde shivered, disgust and desire paramount, the haze fading from his mind.

Why would he allow the other man so close?

He burned down his home, killed his mother and so many innocents!

What could have changed between us in the future?

No, Cloud was sure nothing will change. This – this vision wasn’t real! It had to be Sephiroth’s doing, it had to be one of his tricks! To torment him again!

But why was the man gazing at his look-alike like that? Sephiroth was besotted and tender… his heart on his sleeve and in the blonde’s smaller hands, kissing one another chastely again and again. The shorter man cradled close to his muscled frame, treasured and precious.

Cloud heard it then, both past and present. Another kiss exchanged, drowning, desperate, and passionate. A vow of fealty none can deny. An irrevocable truth slipped in-between inhales and exhales of breath, filled with conviction from the silvered man. “I love you Cloud.”

A selfless declaration. Resounding and real.

The ex-SOLDIER turned away from them, desperate to reject the reality of their union. Their ardor numbing and cold, splintering his fragile heart into tiny shards. Much to his future-self’s disappointment -- much to Sephiroth’s triumph.

Upon this simple act of denial, Sephiroth had Cloud’s past-self right where he wanted him.

And so, the unravelling between eras began, the pair of blondes no longer of one heart and mind. The tenuous line which kept Sephiroth and Cloud’s past self in the future sundered.

Leather clad fingers slid away slowly from his husband’s familiar and firm body, the white fabric and furs otherworldly as they slipped through his fingers. Every bit of the slighter man ephemeral, transcendent, a reminder and reaffirmation of Sephiroth’s resolve. The silvered man released his golden half, sensing their time together at an end, Cloud’s future uncertain.

A future that will never become reality if Sephiroth had his way. For the blonde’s hatred was the key to his success.

Cloud’s frown deepened, Sephiroth smirked. He reveled in the presence of the man Cloud is and may not be. Or perhaps the goddess made manifest will-be, if the stubborn set to those bejeweled, azure orbs were an indicator.

The silvered man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. His golden counterparts face smoothed out. Cloud glanced at his past and nodded toward him, a blessing of sorts at their impasse, an acceptance of the hostility his younger self once felt toward their soulmate.

Sephiroth’s smirk widened into a smile at their commiseration.

He liked a challenge.

Cloud met Sephiroth’s gaze one last time, he reached for the straps of his jacket and pulled him down into a rough kiss, stealing the silver man’s breath away. A reminder of his fidelity, of his burning ardor. Stubborn to the last as he loosened his hold on the tethers keeping his younger self in this time.

Cloud’s youthful follies will not be his own downfall. The goddess’ past self will learn with time, once he came into his own, into his true self. Cloud was lucky the first time to have loved and loss more than once. He came into his own by Aerith’s reciprocated, coaxing affections. Her belief in him guiding the shy man out of his shell to stand on his own two feet. Later in life Tifa’s adoration mended Cloud, pulled him away from his false identity, recognized his brokenness. She patiently helped to mend him, making him a better man, a better husband, and a better father to those who needed him. Accepting all of him, the good and bad, gifting him stability and normalcy.

Cloud never dreamed lighting would strike twice, only for the miracle of a third strike to happen beyond the years of his mortality. The blonde was prepared to spend eternity alone, only to find a companion and equal in Sephiroth. Fully formed, he could be himself with the other man, unabashedly Cloud. Coming into a reciprocated love different from the others, but no less deep. They were each other’s strength, and each other’s salvation.

Sephiroth completed him. It was a rapport of a different kind, their paths crossing at the best time in their respectively lengthy lives. The pieces of who Cloud truly was unearthed and made whole from the fractures. Sephiroth too rediscovered himself, no longer was he just a weapon, he was a person.

The pair at last got to live, not just for others, but for themselves too.

This younger version of Cloud didn’t have the advantage of eons. He has yet to benefit from the life changing force love of all forms can bring. He was still ignorant of the profoundness of a found family, of children to call his own. Nor the wisdom gained with the passage of a life well lived, of peace well earned… a soulmate to share it all with.

Nonetheless, Cloud will; and his younger self will beat some sense into Sephiroth while doing it.

Cloud met Sephiroth’s regard one last time. Another stolen moment. Practically a dream as his past-self faded, returning to his own time. The golden one’s manner tinged with finality. “Not if I save you first… No matter what happens, no matter what you do, I will stop you…” His tone fell to a whisper, earnest and true. “I love you Sephiroth.”

The silvered man stared, the other stared back, equally determined. Sephiroth laughed jovially, practically full-bellied, before kissing Cloud’s temple. His lips lingered, his breath warm against the shorter man’s skin. His every action screamed of his reciprocal adoration for his One and Only. “Cloud…”

His departing words were no less than a dirge. “Come and try.”

In a blink Sephiroth was gone from Cloud’s side, black feathers all that remained where the other man once stood, following in the wake of the blonde’s past self. Leaving the inheritor of Minerva’s legacy at the edge of creation, preferring instead to pursue the ghosts of their tragic history.

Naught remained of the taller man, save for the echoes of the bruising press of their lips.

Cloud heard it then, the wails from the Flow, the Whispers churned.

He fell to his knees and sobbed, mourning his loss, lamenting his actions. His interference playing right into his lover’s hands. His efforts to pull Sephiroth back from the brink in vain, reflected in each translucent teardrop which slipped down his cheeks.

I made it worse. Why can’t I save anyone?

The arbiters of fate flew, reflected in the stars, streaked in cloaked ivory. Intent on their duty against their corrupted ebony counterparts.

Alas it was too late. One way or another, Sephiroth already won.

…

“Let’s go… Cloud.”

…

Cloud wiped his eyes with his sleeve, swallowing a choked gasp. He shook his head and steeled himself, sword and shield embedded in his eyes, the Lifestream painful in his veins. “Fine, we’ll do this your way… Aerith.”

He found his resolve, his celestial gaze befalling the clear expanse, suppressing the growing helplessness brewing inside. Bound by his destiny, his freedom to act out of reach. “Go to her… make sure she succeeds… save him.”

For one nebulous moment, Cloud’s heart stuttered, unsure of who he meant.

All he could do was remain at his vigil. His wings long since clipped.

His duty to the Planet nearing its end.

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Sephiroth’s ebony wing flew faster and further, deeper into the darkness, into despair. The manic haze encroached, rooted itself anew the closer he slipped into the past. His true purpose fading like a distant star, he succumbed to Calamity’s grip.

Jenova’s siren song wrung in his ears, her cells reasserted themselves.

Sephiroth was a heartless angel once more.

His pure love, endless and eternal, became mired by tarring corruption. Calamity’s son drowned in the depths of his counterpart’s deep hate. Obsession rooted itself and he welcomed it into his bosom.

For there was no other way.

Only the Fallen remained.

…

…

…

She held the truth of the future in her grasp.

She will make certain to punish her son for his transgressions… and she will do so by using the holder of his heart against him.

She has done it before, in the boy’s village, she will do it again.

Minerva’s son will be hers…

A vessel she will despoil for granting her new body free will and a heart of his own…

A puppet whose strings she shall tug through the will of her calamitous angel… a goddess who will never be, destroyed by the very bonds manifested between them by the Planet’s design.

Her revenge against those who sealed her will be complete…

Jenova stirred.

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“Good to see you… Cloud.”   

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Cloud found himself on his knees once the ringing ceased. He shook his head, clearing the maelstrom of his scattered thoughts, the light breeze billowed around him. The blond stood and stretched, noting the group had not left him too far behind.

He made to follow, yet his steps slowed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, the air shifted. Cloud stopped in his tracks and stared beyond the foliage, the wolf met his gaze unflinching, its orbs identical in shade to his own, intelligent and insightful.

The lupine creature should put him on edge, should make him wary… he felt none of that. As Cloud met its - his – gaze, he saw no malice, no hunger, nothing to hint at predatory behavior. Just… protectiveness and… regret? No, maybe lament? Grief even.

Cloud head tilted to the side, completely befuddled by the four-legged creature.

If he stared at the canine a little longer, perhaps he can puzzle him out. The flash of a hazy dream niggled in the recesses of his mind, the edge of creation just out of reach. Silver and gold intermingled too bright to perceive, Cloud squinted against the dazzling supernova, but to no avail. The revelation long buried, too unfathomable to grasp, an event which can happen, which hasn’t happened.

A future which may never happen.

Curious, Cloud neared the noble beast and knelt before him. Behind him he noted the vague silhouette of two other four legged creatures. Wolves too?

So, he travelled in a pack. The prospect put Cloud at ease. Alas the blonde could not quite fathom why.

The wolf prodded his cheek with his snout, prompting the ex-SOLDIER to meet its identical azure gaze… a gaze tinged in mako?

Cloud’s orbs widened in surprised, flabbergasted at the sight before him.

Maybe he can read minds, or maybe he was bored, still the creature chose that moment to sit on its haunches and huff. His glimmering eyes caught the sun’s rays, seemingly amused.

Cloud didn’t even know wolves can express amusement. Yet here we are.

Ma always did say they were smart creatures.

Wolves; the servants of Fenrir. Or was it the Goddess Minerva?

Cloud shrugged and mumbled to himself “Whatever.”

The golden wolf grumbled in agreement. The blond refused to linger on the prospect.

Behind the ex-SOLDIER a familiar voice called out to him. “Let’s go Cloud!”

Cloud glanced over his armored pauldron, meeting Aerith’s inquisitive emerald stare. The flower seller offered him a genial smile. “What’ cha looking at?”

The blonde balked. “Me? Oh just…” He turned back toward the tree line, the golden wolf and his pack gone without a trace.

Cloud frowned and shook his head. Was I… seeing things?

His heart ached, hollow at the prospect.

Aerith raised an eyebrow, contorting herself to meet his azure eyes. “Just…?”

Cloud huffed and stood, dusting his fatigues of grass and dirt as he walked away. “Nothing, forget it.”

The claret haired woman shrugged; her eyes remained on his retreating form. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

She made to follow, but paused. Her head tilted, listening to the whispers of the world. Aerith felt the weight of Her sword and Her shield surround her. The last of the Cetra glanced over toward the tree line. In her periphery she caught a glimpse of blonde hair, sturdy white fabric, and a warrior’s furred mantle. A future goddess, radiant in mortal flesh and blood.

The gift of inheritance, the Lifestream, the promise, in his veins.

Cloud?

Aerith glanced back toward the blonde’s fraying frame and found her resolve. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what that resolve was.

Not yet.

…

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Chapter Text

...

Some time later... Much later...

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The sunlight dappled in-between the canopy of verdant leaves. The winds blew through the bows of the glowing trees, their branches danced in greeting as Cloud passed, adamant in their desire to join him on his stroll. The breeze swirled around him, toying with the white fabric and furs of his clothes, vying for his attention. The air permeated with the Lifestream’s flow, sonorous yet no less feeble. After reaching its pinnacle the current ebbed, reacting to the blonde’s presence. The Planet greeted him affectionately, a mother welcoming her child to her bosom.

All appeared normal in the Sleeping Forest. That is if one were to avoid peering above their heads. Curiosity was an inevitability. Sadly, one cannot remain in ignorance, in denial.

That was not an option, not anymore.

The canvas of clear, blue-sky overhead was torn. The seams of reality’s fabric ruptured through the otherwise sunny day, scarring and luminous. Nevertheless, the weather remained mild and in the slight man’s favor. 

The gravel crunched underfoot, the soil buoyant and bouncy with each step. The foliage and flowers grew to reach him, blooming in the last throws of survival – their swan song, desperate for Cloud’s succor. Gaia groaned, the reverberations exhausted and suffering. Her wails were filled with anguish, the remnants of Her strength tenuous at best as She gripped the tethers of the natural order.

Alas, the threads were worn. The minor changes frayed the bonds, allowing for greater ones to mangle them further. This pivotal moment in the Planet’s history the focal point, used to sunder the ties that bind reality together. 

Were he deaf to Her cries and blind to the truth, Cloud would think the fair weather, the peace of the forest, and the clear skies the perfect conditions for traversal. 

But he knew better.

Cloud continued on the overgrown path and toward the source of the aberration. The emanation of gaping loss weighed heavily in his heart, his former companions mourning palpable in the distant clearing.

For Aerith had just died.

Killed at Sephiroth’s hands…  and Jenova’s.

The Whispers floated in-between the trees, accompanying the dandelion fluff and the winking particles of Gaia’s lifeforce, ebony and ivory in unison. Where once the specters clashed, now they were of one mind.

An unneeded clash if you asked him.

Leave it to Sephiroth and Aerith to sway what were essentially the Planet’s correctional officers to their respective sides.

Or were the Whispers more like auditors? There to make certain everything was as it should be, redacting what should not exist and inserting what was convenient.

Well… put them in suits and they may as well be Turks.

Cloud snorted to himself. He was the one who sent the Planet’s guardians to the past in the first place. He practically asked for this discord to happen. The Whispers were created to maintain Order, as in with a capital ‘O,’ they existed outside of space and time to keep reality and destiny on track. As consequence, they did not differentiate between true anarchists and allies of the Planet. Nevertheless, Cloud knew the risks in sending the entities to follow Sephiroth, but he was desperate. He was aware of his duty to the Planet, even if Gaia turned Her back on him for his choice.

A means to an end.

He still kicks himself for not trusting Aerith more. They stopped Sephiroth from destroying the world before, they could have done it again without the use of literal divine intervention.

Not that she was helpless. What did that make Sephiroth’s and Aerith’s use of the Whispers then?

No, neither were helpless, much less powerless.

For this diatribe to exist between the Whispers… it must mean that destiny has split its course. The spindles thread came undone, the angel and Cetra catalysts to this change.

And Cloud lit the spark… a spark which can grow into a raging inferno consuming all life in its path.

It’s my fault.

The blonde paused before the clearing, coming face to face with his lupine attendants, Skoll and Hati. Cloud nodded toward the pair in greeting, expectant and patient. 

The auburn wolf, Skoll, approached first. His raven counterpart, Hati, followed suite, ever at his partner’s side. The pair of wolves glanced at one another, cerulean and sapphire orbs met in silent confidence. After a beat Skoll offered Hati a smirk, the victor in their muted debate. Hati huffed and moved to sit before Cloud.

Cloud raised an eyebrow. Hati shook his head and broke the silence, an undercurrent of a growl shaded his answer. “You may be right. The creature your friends fought was definitely Jenova.”

The condemned immortal stiffened, tensions rising as if expecting a blow. Silence befell them again, the air stilled.

Skoll stepped up to continue in Hati’s stead. “There is more, my goddess. Though it be brief, we saw your angel amongst them. He… clashed with your past self and… the puppy.”

Cloud’s breath caught in his lungs, his azure eyes searched their canine faces, seeking solace. His words were strained in their release. “…Puppy?”

Could it be? No, it can’t. Because that would mean…

Hati butted his head against Cloud’s hand, his presence grounding and reassuring. Unable to resist, the blonde accepted the comfort, petting the wolf’s head. “Yes, we’re sure of it. It was Zack. He stood by your side at the edge of creation, and together you both faced…”

Sephiroth.

Cloud need not say it out loud, much less hear his name to discern the truth of the matter. He knelt before the pair of wolves and silently offered his free hand to Skoll, keeping the other occupied within Hati’s dark fur. Skoll did as bid, allowing the blonde to rove his fingers through his auburn coat. Cloud blinked, the azure of his irises illuminated by an inner spark. The dwindling remnants of the Lifestream in his veins flourished, lustrous in the dark depths of his pupils, activating the power of ‘glaukopis.’

Soon the whites of his sclera gave way to the inner luminescence, until the very stars glittered within them. Cloud blinked again, his irises and pupils gone from his eyes. In their stead were pearlescent orbs, the secrets of the universe floated in their dazzling sheen. Both Skoll and Hati’s own eyes glowed in synchronicity, attuned to their goddess’ vision, imparting their sight to him. Cloud saw through their eyes and retraced their footsteps.

The Sleeping Forest awoke from its slumber, the fluorescent trees brightened.

…

…

Everything was white, blinding, brilliant and blank.

Distantly there was an echo of a running stride, heavy and sure.

A pause in the motion, a breath. Then a voice, quiet and forlorn. “White as far as the eye can see…”

Another step, a skid – or perhaps a turn? The same voice called out in the white abyss; its tenor tinged in desperation. “Hey, anybody there?”

More running, this time set apace.

Then an abrupt stop.

His sight sharpened, and revealed the frame of a tall man. Broad shouldered and dressed in a SOLDIER’s uniform, first class. His fluorescent sky-blue eyes were unmistakable, as was his slicked back ebony spikes and the buster sword slung on his strong back.

‘Zack…’

Zack’s orbs widened, expansive and clear. A silhouette stood frozen in the distance, surrounded by ivory Whispers floating about in a gentle sway. Zack blinked and the wisps departed, revealing a slight frame, athletic and lithe. The stance of the individual adamant and tense. They held a blade in hand, a large one.

The running resumed and slowed. The closer he got, the clearer the other form became.

A SOLDIER uniform, first class. The figure aglow in golden, prismatic light.

Blonde hair, styled in downy spikes.

The steps stopped beside the blonde… Cloud?

Zack took a sharp inhale of breath, hands on his hips. He closed the distance between he and his frozen friend, his ebony spikes bounced with each step.

Another pause. His sky-blue orbs fell away from his friend and landed upon the white middle distance in disbelief. “How about that.”

The former SOLDIER turned and regarded the blonde. He studied the younger man, brows furrowed in contemplation. Zack noted Cloud didn’t look very different from the last time he saw him. And yet his presence held an air of power and confidence never before seen. Curiosity piqued, the raven’s eyes squinted.

Sure, Cloud was sturdier all around now. Filled out the uniform pretty nicely too…

Still a short king though, the cutey. 

That determined stare wasn’t any different to Cloud’s expected M.O., pout and all. His pretty boy looks matured too. Zack could tell that pout and that face would make a dangerous combo, and break a world’s worth of hearts if left unsupervised.

Not like Cloud cared much for other people’s attention. The older man wondered if the little guy was still that socially awkward grunt deep inside.

And his eyes…

Wait, what?

Zack gasped and rushed closer to stand before Cloud, disbelief stoked his inquisitiveness. He bent forward, practically nose to nose with the blonde. At the younger man’s eye-level, Zack scrutinized the mako-tinge in the other’s gaze. The luminescent green seeped into the still lake of the azure, giving Cloud’s eyes an almost nocturnal air - wolf-like and predatory. 

From the muscle mass, the ease of wielding such a large sword – his own like as much – and the glow-in-the-dark-eyes, it was safe to say Zack’s little buddy was no longer dealing with mako poisoning.

If he didn’t know any better, the raven-haired man would presume his friend really did become the SOLDIER he always wanted to be.

Zack chuckled and leaned back. His own sky-blue orbs roved the blonde’s frame up and down, getting another eyeful. Zack became gleeful, unable to resist the temptation. Mischievousness, shaded with pride, evident in each word. “Well, nice to see you too.”

He circled the younger man, appreciative of the new angles, recalling Bigg’s and Marlene’s words forthwith. The raven stopped beside the blonde, eager to tease. “So… I hear you’ve been pretty busy.”

In his usual affable way, Zack punched Cloud’s exposed shoulder.

The universe wailed and shifted.

Ebony Whispers burst forth at the point of contact, worlds collided and weaved. And from their confluence at the edge of creation, a miraculous meeting between soulmates of a different kind came to be.

Zack yelped and took a cautious step back, lest he be swept up by the Whispers. He scoped out his surroundings as he unsheathed his buster sword, the weight of his former mentor’s blade reassuring. Zack stood tall, battle stance at the ready.

The stars twinkled above, distant galaxies swirled. The enfeebled planet hardened under his feet, sapped of its vitality and in the throes of death. The Whispers swept themselves into a maelstrom, surrounding the pair of friends.

Cloud’s azure orbs widened, the winds of the storm suffocating and disjointed. The keens of the Planet and the screech of… another… were palpable and overwhelming. The blonde took a step back, bumping into another’s muscular warmth. 

The younger man’s eyes grew wider still, in utter disbelief as he met his long dead friend’s gaze over his shoulder, his hold on his own sword slackened. “Zack?”

Suddenly, a black feather drifted to the ground, capturing their attention. The pair of friends regarded the interloper in alarm. The gusts increased and lashed their hair around their faces, their clothes whipped about like punctured sails. A new feather fell and joined the first. Then another, and another. Soon they were surrounded by an innumerable amount of feathers, ominous and unwelcome. Cloud and Zack scoped the area, tense and expectant.

Zack was the first to comment whilst he bent his knees, prepared to leap into action at a moment’s notice. “Uh, how’s about we save the catching up for later?”

Cloud tightened his grip on his blade and nodded in agreement. The plumes flew and formed a vortex in the sky, the ebony Whispers joined them.

The dark abyss morphed into a shadowed man in its core.

There was a flash of silver. A wide arched slash from a long, thin blade, split the vortex asunder. The storm dissipated and the air stilled, revealing Sephiroth in all his one-winged glory. Dark plumes fell in his wake like tainted droplets of rain, perverse and damning.

The older man floated imperiously above the pair, absorbing the sight before him. The arcane breeze billowed gently around him, toying with his silver tresses. Sephiroth’s slitted gaze roved over Cloud, the blonde gilded veneer dented and dulled to his sight. He was a cracked vessel, empty of substance and primed for repair – once so, Cloud will be filled again.

 A puppet whose strings wove into Sephiroth’s fingers deliciously.  

Cyan eyes widened in surprise at Zack’s presence beside the blonde, if only briefly. The silvered man’s brow furrowed, contemplative. He expected Cloud to be alone in this realm, sumptuous and ripe. A harvest for Sephiroth alone to plunder and reap.

Zack should not be here.

The pieces fell into place, the revelation of the SOLDIER’s presence struck a chord.

If Zack was here, then that meant…

Another world reunited. His once friend alive and well; the result of its merging. The raven’s existence filling a void once left behind by the very same man’s death.

Sephiroth caught a glimmer of white and gold. The shimmer manifested in the shape of a person, their form familiar and missed. The silvered man’s chest constricted, lament tightened its hold.

His slitted orbs lit up in contentment, meeting the regard of the one he desired to see above all others.

His beloved goddess, whom stood rooted in the Sleeping Forest, out of place and out of time, was in the fallen angel’s sights. Divine glaukopis reflected in his once azure eyes, draining the last vestiges of Cloud’s strength.

And he wasn’t alone.

Sephiroth’s visage softened, his cold demeanor undone. A beatific smile grew, pleased at the turn of events. A reunion of a different sort unfolded before his very eyes.

And it will be glorious.

Minerva’s heir gasped at the unexpected exposure, the boundaries time and space porous. Cloud attempted to shield his attendants from Sephiroth’s probing stare, but it was a useless endeavor.

Jenova knew they were here.

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…

Cloud sensed, more so than felt, Sephiroth surround him. His lover’s synergy with the Calamity near completion.

In a blink the one-winged angel stabbed the condemned goddess through the abdomen with Masamune, hardly allowing the other a moment’s respite. The sword ripped through the thick fabric of Cloud’s clothes, tore asunder muscles, ligaments, organs and veins, piercing cleanly through the blonde’s body and exit his back in a wet squelch.

The long blade glinted maliciously, swathed in the rich crimson of his counterpart’s blood. Cloud choked out a gasp, his once pristine white attire sullied by a growing pool of red. The god-to-be raised the condemned goddess higher, impaling Cloud further upon the long odachi.

Blood gurgled up the blonde’s throat, dribbling from his paling lips. He huffed out a small laugh, glaukopis flickered from his sight. “Haven’t we… been here… before?”

Sephiroth’s smile grew, sharp and predatory. His glacial beauty a far cry from his once kind and tranquil etherealness. “I hope you don’t mind indulging me.” The broader man twisted his wrist, causing Masamune to cut into Cloud deeper, gravity weighing the blonde’s frame further. “I am in a nostalgic mood today.”

Cloud coughed up more sanguine, his chin and the front of his warrior’s garb stained. The blonde groaned. “I-is that all? Fine… let me remind… you… how… we got here.”

The goddess gripped Masamune’s blade and pulled, moving bodily forward. Inch by agonizing inch, Cloud neared, the Nibelheim reactor flickered into his periphery before it faded from the edge of creation. “My family… and my hometown.”

Blood dribbled onto the ground from his abdominal wound, agony pulsed in his veins. It slid down the extensive blade, the pommel coated and slick. Cloud did not care and continued. “You’ve done it all, right?”

He slid closer, satisfied at the sight of Sephiroth’s cold demeanor cracking. Cyan orbs widened at the blonde’s determination, rooted in place.

Cloud cried out, indignant. “I will… never… forgive you!”

The shorter man’s feet touched the dead ground. His clothes stuck to his skin whilst a greater amount of blood flowed down his legs, pooling around the pair in an opaque lake of life. “…you will…not have him… I will… end you…”

With a mighty cry, powerful and commanding, Cloud bodily swung around. The one-winged angel’s grip on Masamune came undone by the momentum, and he was flung away. His broad form smacked the ground and collapsed like a rag doll, dark feathers fluttered in his wake, his silver hair splayed around him.

Sephiroth did not move.

Cloud hobbled over to his angel’s prone form, a trail of his blood in his victorious wake. He fell to his knees, his breath left him in throbbing pants. A wheeze escaped him in his efforts to pull the odachi out of his abdomen. Bit by painful bit, the sword was unsheathed from his body. Sanguine gushed out, no longer staunched by the cold metal. With all his strength Cloud stabbed Masamune into the compact dirt, triumphant in spite of the increased crimson pool beneath him.

His ichor flowed, encroaching Sephiroth’s still frame. It touched the dark leather of his jacket first, then stained his iridescent hair a macabre rouge. The tacky substance caressed the pale skin of his cheek next, until the life-giving essence soaked the plumage of his ebony wing.

A morbid baptism of its own kind.

Cloud’s blood absorbed into Sephiroth’s being, the crimson giving way to crystalline waters below them. The blonde coughed into his tarnished sleeve and wiped the drying rust from his lips and chin. His disdain for the creature before him dripped from his every word. “Stay where you belong, in my memories.”

Cloud received no reply. His wound knit itself together, numbing him.

Jenova will not go down so easily, Cloud was certain.

Without hesitation the blonde refocused on Sephiroth and crawled closer on all fours. He tugged the larger man near with a heaving grunt, cradling him on his lap. Their bodies fit in together, a paltry comfort. The slighter man’s shoulders eased, using his divine essence to sideline the Calamity’s overbearing existence. Her tarring presence tainted the waters and disappeared, gone yet not forgotten from the edge of creation.

The silvered man remained, bathed in the sanguine of his lover, and unwashed by the waters.

Cloud rested his palm on Sephiroth’s expansive chest, the man’s skin chilled to the touch. He foolishly reached out to the last remaining flickers of the other’s humanity, desperate to save whatever scrap of his husband remained.

However, it was all for naught. The core of Sephiroth was… mutilated. Pieces of him ripped asunder and cast aside long before Cloud reached him. The silvered man was hollowed out and decayed, a willing recipient of Jenova’s influence.

Where did those pieces of him go?

It was maddening for the blonde, he sensed Sephiroth’s humanity near, it was whole!

Nevertheless, the core of the man’s true self barely remained…

Cloud gasped, realization settled. “Why?”

Sephiroth’s eyes slowly opened and met his beloved’s gaze, his silence his answer. The man’s smile widened adoringly as he rested a gloved hand over the blonde’s pale digits, splaying Cloud’s fingers on his paling skin, leaving rouge prints in their wake. Emboldened Cloud swallowed and dove deeper into Sephiroth’s essence. Bypassing the rot and ruin, he touched Sephiroth’s soul, tender and devoted in his caresses.

Sephiroth returned the coaxing inner touch, his presence fluttering and frail, but no less reciprocal.

The stars settled and it was just the two of them, the dead planet below their feet.

Time stood still. Gaia and Calamity silent. 

Sephiroth and Cloud’s faces neared, not a single word passed between them, their regard tethered to their beholden. Their lips met in finality, deferential and slow, forgoing their impasse to live in the moment. The kiss was chaste, tender and sweet, stars winked out and faded around them. The caresses of their lips seeped warmth into every fiber of their being, their very souls alight in a waning, gentle glow.

An eternity passed, and it was far too short.

Sephiroth rested his heart in Cloud’s hands - the last vestiges of his humanity. Cloud cradled him reverently, raining delicate kisses upon his abused, frayed existence. He traced the silvered man’s regal features with his supple lips, venerable and consecrating. Cloud kissed his relaxed brow, his proud forehead, his regal nose, his sharp cheeks, his lovely chin, his expansive neck, and his stark adam’s apple. At the end of his journey, Cloud returned to the other man’s plush lips, his love and devotion pressed upon the cooling buds.

If only he could change it, if only Cloud could save him.

Alas, all he could do was give his soulmate the peace he longed for.

Sephiroth’s pulse slowed.

Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.

Lub-dub, lub-dub.

Lub-dub.

Lub…dub.

Lub…dub.

…lub…dub…

……lub…..dub….

……….lub…………

………………………………

His heart at last stilled, shriveled and died. Its life drained away and integrated into the separate being he will become.

A silent sacrifice… willing and brave… Beloved by his goddess until the very end.

Cloud’s tears fell, the droplets landed upon his soulmates remains, fogging his vision.

Jenova’s raucous laughter echoed in utter bliss, a funerary dirge in the man’s ear.

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…

“Shut up!”

Cloud heard himself yell, Aerith’s cooling body in his arms. “The cycle of nature and your stupid plan don’t mean a thing!”

The blonde felt the Cetra stiffen, rigor-mortis settling. “Aerith is gone…” His chin fell upon his uniform covered chest, turning away from his enemy, rage giving way to desolation. “Aerith will no longer talk, no longer laugh, cry… or get angry…”

He pulled her corpse closer, unable and unwilling to let go. “What about us… what are we supposed to do?”

Nerves won out, he was cold. The blonde’s strength drained away as he loosened his hold. His words a mere whisper. “What about my pain?”

Aerith slipped from Cloud’s lap, he rested her on the cold floor of the dais. He flexed his gloved hands, extremities numb. “My fingers are tingling.”

Tears continued to fall unbidden, the blonde gasped. Throat tight whilst he sagged, wilting with her. His azure orbs flicked this way and that, unable to find purchase. He heaved, his chest near bursting. “My mouth is dry. My eyes are burning!”

Cloud sobbed, heart-wrenching and echoing as he cradled Aerith in his arms again. His lithe frame curled around her body, coiled and mired by anguish. Cloud squeezed his eyes shut, crystalline droplets landed like pearlescent jewels upon her lengthy claret hair.

His mind fractured.

Reality slipped away.

…

…

Cloud hardly had a chance to mourn Sephiroth before he was cast from the edge. Glaukopis careening him far away from the danger to come, buoyed by the echoing remnants of the love of his life.

The battle of wills a distant memory.

…

…

Sephiroth’s eyes refocused as he floated unabated in the air. His slitted gaze fell on Zack and Cloud standing upon the star’s carcass.

Minerva’s son spirited away.

The pair raised their twin blades, their buster swords deadly and poised for battle.

The heartless angel landed gracefully onto the ground, silent and coiled to pounce. The ebony Whispers stirred and flew away in a whorl until they were no more.

Sephiroth met his opponent’s ire head on, his orbs bright in a maddening sheen. His smile tipped into a sneer, his face inhuman, a detached beauty, exuding arrogance.

For Calamity won, her son in her grasp. A willing supplicant; beloved by his mother until the very end.

And they were, at last, one.

Symbiotic, he was her, and she was him.

A reunion… subsumed.

Sephiroth was one step closer to his goal.

He will save this world, and everyone on it. He will rule over eternity as the Planet’s new god.

And he will save Cloud.

He will give him salvation… in despair.

…

…

It was dark, then clarity settled. The stars winked above them, the only source of luminance in this fogged reality.

Sephiroth’s fingers tightened around Masamune’s pommel. He raised the blade high into the air. “Just as worlds unite, so too do they part.”

He swung his blade downward, judge and executioner.

…

…

Another glimpse, a red sky loomed.

One was now two.

The flowers long withered and dead.

Meteor neared.

…

…

A flash of light, bright and pure.

The church… flowers in bloom… vibrant and alive.

Zack’s prone form sat amongst the pews, safe and sound. Spirited away by the remnants of Aerith’s power.

Slowly he regained consciousness. Dazed and confused he stared at his lap. “Did I…?”

He raised his gloved hand into the ray of light. He murmured, flexing his fingers. “Nah, I couldn’t have dreamt that.” Zack’s hand balled into a fist soon after; his brow furrowed. “It all felt way too real.”

The raven-haired man gazed at the flower’s, contemplative. “Just as worlds unite, so too do they part…”

He huffed and leaned back, resting in his seat. His lips curved into a smile, his orbs glimmered, a reflection of the sky above. His gaze rose, his new reality cemented. “But who’s to say they can’t unite again?”

…

…

Sephiroth purred. The vibrations guttural as they reached the blonde’s ears. “Alone at last, shall we?”

…

…

Cloud gasped and faltered, vertigo taking hold of his senses. Unable to maintain his hold, his hands slipped from Skoll’s and Hati’s fur. Cloud’s palms landed heavily upon the ground of the Sleeping Forest, limbs shaken and struggling to keep himself upright. His surroundings darkened at the edges, nauseatingly bright spots flickered across his vision.

In a few painful blinks, the pearlescent sheen of the universe faded into mortal sight. Azure irises and dark pupils bereft of the glimmer of stars once more, rooted in the present. Unable to sustain the mana required for the divine magic, the power of glaukopis slipped away.

Gaia’s invisible fetters ignited the quivering goddess’ skin, his blood boiled whilst his energy burned out. Cloud clawed at his reserves to no avail. Drained and weighted, he struggled to breathe. Cloud wavered, gravity the victor as the blonde tipped sideways.

A pair of burly arms caught the slighter man before he collapsed. “Easy, don’t push yourself.”

Cloud swallowed, his lungs filled with oxygen anew in short bursts. Another pair of hands, elegant and slender, readjusted him into a sitting position. Cloud found himself resting his full weight against another’s lithe frame, a focal point to his disoriented state.

The blonde’s vertigo eventually cleared, revealing not the lupine Skoll and Hati, but the concerned faces of an auburn and raven-haired man in their place. Cloud’s hazy mind took but a moment to catch up to the present, his lips pursed. 

In Cloud’s distracted state his companions shed their pelts for their true human forms.

His husband’s friends, former first-class SOLDIER’s Genesis Rhapsodos and Angeal Hewley.

Genesis sighed as he ran his dexterous fingers over Cloud’s wrist, checking his pulse. He tutted at its rapid pace, fluid and graceful in his crimson and ivory trimmed duster. His pauldrons blended seamlessly with his dark feathered and furred collared wrap. The material flaring behind the man’s right side, as if prepared to stretch and take flight. “What are we going to do with you? Even you have limits.”

Angeal nodded in agreement whilst he pet the blonde’s downy spikes fondly. The thickness of his sleeveless, dark blue and ivory vanguard jerkin, along with his matching greaves were hardly cumbersome. His white feathered and furred tippet trailed around them in a semi-circle on his left, ever protective of his charges. “He’s right. You need to conserve every ounce of strength you have left. We’re in the thick of it now.”

Cloud sighed, far too weary to argue. His lips quirked in reassurance and a touch of gratitude. “I’ll try.”

The redhead snorted and shook his head, his tone arid with snark. “You weren’t making efforts before? In that case I have a mind to lecture you myself on restraint.”

His raven counterpart barked a laugh, canine’s barely visible amongst rows of pearly teeth. “You? Give a lecture on restraint? The world really is coming to an end.”

Genesis’ veneer of maturity gave way to a raspberry blown over Cloud’s shoulder. “Bite me, Angeal.”

Angeal raised an eyebrow, succumbing to a rare bout of playfulness. “Keep that up and I just might. Starting with that loose tongue of yours.”

Cloud huffed out a laugh and captured the pair’s attention in the process. Genesis and Angeal stared, equal parts fretful and exasperated. Unperturbed, the blonde found his feet and stood on wobbly legs. His knees buckled, but Cloud found the inner strength to right himself before either man could assist. The shortest of the trio raised his palms in supplication, silently gesturing at the clearing ahead.

Angeal frowned as he too stood and crossed his arms in disapproval. “And what do you plan to do now? Sephiroth isn’t here anymore.”

Cloud made his way passed the pair, his steps assured and adamant. “To pay my respects.”

Genesis remained seated, mulling the blonde’s words. He then rested his hand on his raven counterpart’s wrist and shrugged, addressing Cloud nonetheless. “And us?”

The blonde paused in his stride and glanced over his shoulder. “We have a stray to find. Do what wolves do best, track him down. Knowing Zack, he won’t sit idle for long.”

His brawny attendant shook his head, fondness evident. “No, he won’t.”

The red-head sighed, put upon. “Where do we start? Puppy puns notwithstanding, it’s not as if he left a trail to follow.”

Cloud turned to face the pair completely, a single word floated from his lips, decisive and assured.

“Midgar.”

Genesis crossed his arms, his feathers shifted, curiosity piqued. “Midgar? So, you saw beyond our own limited perspective then? No wonder you swooned.”

Angeal glanced Genesis’ way, Genesis returned his glance, the pair’s eyes met briefly in commiseration.

The raven-haired man nodded once, his gaze returned to Cloud forthwith. “Where?”

The blonde regarded him steadily, mulling over his vision. “The Sector 5 slums. You’ll find an abandoned church where flowers bloom. Last I saw, he was sitting on one of the pews. He looked…  eager.”

Angeal nodded, sapphire orbs gleamed, recalling a bygone time – a memetic memory. “Ah, yes. I know the one.”

He pat his childhood friend’s back in comradery and walked away. His tippet trailed with the breeze, its feathers fluttered. The raven-haired man disappeared amongst the verdant foliage, loose white plumes floated in his wake.

Genesis stared at Cloud meaningfully, his cerulean eyes sharp. Lithe frame taught like a bowstring. “I need not be a part of that reunion. Not if we want to keep the puppy from baring his fangs.”

Cloud’s visage gave nothing away, his azure gaze practically aglow and omnipotent. Though it be brief, Genesis swore he came face to face with Minerva instead, exposed once more before divinity. Only this time, he stood before the altar of her Gift made flesh – her heir. The red-head softened, beholding her son in all his celestial glory. 

The blonde nodded in silent agreement. His lips quirked, the taller man just as bare to him as he once was to his predecessor. Genesis’ connection to them palpable in their stirring, even from this distance. “Fine. Deepground then.”

Genesis unfolded his tall frame and stood at the gentle command. He rested his hand upon his heart and swooped into a bow, head low and venerable. Accepting of Cloud’s judgement, and his task. “Behold, the Gift of the Goddess. By your bow shall I, your arrow, fly. And by your providence, I seek the beasts thus, and take to the skies.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “Do you have to do that?”

The auburn man smirked, gazing at the other through his lashes. “But of course. The occasion warrants it.”

Cloud rested his hands on his hips, unamused. “Reconnaissance.”

Genesis righted himself, his smirk grew into a teasing smile. “By your will oh Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds.”

The red-head back-stepped slowly, his wrap danced in the wind, dark feathers buoyant as he too disappeared within the verdant glow of the trees.

Cloud stared after the men, a black and white feather landed together upon the enriched earth.

He steadied himself, the press of Sephiroth’s corpse still weighed in his arms.

Cloud’s resolve solidified and he kept moving.

…

There was a spark. A glimmer within.

Two hearts beat as one, side by side within a fragile frame. 

He and his soulmate finally of one mind, the fated pair broken and shattered.

And yet… mending. Tethered to one another once more in inexplicable ways, a rebirth of their souls.

Cloud will give Sephiroth salvation… and stop him once and for all.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

Distantly, at the Forgotten Capital’s lakeside, the younger Cloud sat with his companions. His psyche broken, the fractures etched in all the wrong places, blissful in his denial.

He ignored the mournful faces of his party and met Aerith’s ghostly smile with a grin, the Cetra dear and departed from this world.

None else can see her, none save Cloud.

Unbeknownst to the blonde, his connection to the Lifestream cemented itself. The veil between realities lifted, awakening the mortal man to Gaia’s flow, to his ability to perceive the truth of life and death. Attuned to Her hymn, cognizant to Her presence. Cloud was a blank slate, primed for his coronation as Minerva’s heir. The tempering of a new Sword and Shield triggered by his despair.

By Sephiroth’s design, the rite began far too soon.

Cloud remained blissfully ignorant, preferring the sweet cocoon of his dream, turning his back on the harsh reality that loomed ahead at journey’s end.

The Clear Materia remained in his pocket. It, like him, a primed vessel waiting to be filled.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

“I… will not end… nor will I have you end.”

Irredeemable at last.

…

…