Chapter Text
There is something oddly nostalgic about Nibleheim that Sephiroth cannot explain.
The crisp cold air that carries the scent of pines and rivers. The jagged terrain that disappears into the misty distance. The calming sounds of the running waters and singing birds…
A woman’s voice, softly singing him a somber lullaby.
It’s like he’s been here a long time ago but there is no memory to reassure his emotions that long to reminisce.
He wonders if this is what Zack felt when he saw those haunting memories of him and Cloud in the dreamscape. Familiar yet foreign, akin to seeing one’s own reflection in the mirror do something else entirely different.
Tifa is leading them to the rocky terrain at the outskirts of town. Her strides are confident and she handles the uneven ground rather well despite the heels of her boots. She is quite young to be their guide in such dangerous wilderness, but Sephiroth finds himself appreciating her bold attitude. It’s refreshing to see someone not cowering in fear or eager politeness when interacting with them.
“Thanks for helping us with the flowers by the way,” Zack jogs up to be in pace with Tifa with his usual sunshine friendly aura. “Looks like the whole town is making an effort to maintain that memorial really well.”
It seems that the smart puppy is trying to fish for more information about Cloud, Sephiroth thinks amusingly. The others pick it up quite quickly too. Underneath Zack’s carefree appearance, they all know how intelligent and observant their puppy is.
“Yeah,” Tifa hums, unaware of the way they are planning their next words to direct the conversation to their Dreamer. “After the whole incident, everyone would put flowers on that memorial whenever they could. I took up the role of maintaining it and clearing away the wilting ones.”
“Are you a close friend of Cloud?” Genesis joins the conversation.
The girl pauses her steps, she looks momentarily lost on how to answer. “I… I guess you can say that we played sometimes as kids…”
Angeal picks up on the change of mood. “Did something happen between you and Cloud? The mayor told us he saved you during the incident.”
“He did,” Tifa smiles sadly. She takes a deep breath before continuing her pace. They are currently trekking on sloped terrain. The wind is warm as it breezes through them. “It wasn’t the only instance when he did.”
They wait for Tifa to continue in eager silence.
“My mom passed away when I was younger. Back then, I still didn’t believe in it and tried looking for her in Mt. Nibel,” Tifa shakes her head. “The other kids encouraged me but they all ran away when we had to cross one of the rope bridges like this one.”
They stop before an old bridge, hanging precariously by the cliffs with the strength of worn out wood and ropes to keep it together. Tifa stares at it blankly for a while before turning to them, apologizing. “Sorry, can we take another road instead of crossing this bridge? I know a longer way, if that’s alright.”
“Of course,” Sephiroth agrees as gently as he can. The others nod along too. They all notice how Tifa didn’t seem to have fond memories of such bridges.
“I went ahead to one of these bridges back then,” Tifa continues her story as she redirects them. “The other kids were too scared and ran off. Only Cloud stayed, trying to convince me to not go any further…”
Sephiroth’s heart flutters at that image. Cloud as a child, courageous and selfless enough to brave such dangers just to convince his friend to come home safely. Somehow, learning more about Cloud just makes his chest swell with bittersweet pride for his soulmate.
“But I was too stubborn and we both fell…” The frown in Tifa’s face is unhidden. “Thankfully, we both survived although not unscathed.” Sephiroth could not help but feel like this story is about to take a worse turn.
“Cloud hurt his ankle and had some bruises and I…” Tifa raises her hand to touch a part of her head. “I hit my head and fell into a coma for some time.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, dear.” Genesis says softly, offering his sympathies. Tifa shakes her head.
“I’d say it was worse for Cloud though,” she sighs. “I lost my memories about the incident and didn’t even remember why I went to the mountain at all. The other kids were too afraid to get in trouble and pinned everything on Cloud.”
Sephiroth takes a sharp inhale. Zack and the others did not hide their offended gasps.
“So my dad told me to never meet with Cloud ever again. His prejudice made things harder for Cloud in the village.” Tifa continues in a solemn tone. “But I guess I was insensitive and rebellious back then. I still tried talking to Cloud after everything, I didn’t know it gave him even more trouble.”
“And since you’re telling us all this now,” Angeal asks, unable to bear the thought that Cloud, upholding the honor of a hero, is treated unfairly. “Does it mean that you remembered and cleared everything up?”
Tifa’s almond eyes shake at the question. She turns away from them, but Sephiroth notices the way her shoulders quiver. “Cloud told me it was his fault for not being able to save me. That it’s better if we aren’t friends because he failed me.”
She looks up to the sky speckled by the pine leaves as they make their way into a grove. Willing her tears to not fall. “The day of the festival, he saved me again. Shielding me like his life depended on it. Making sure the dragon does not get past him even if he was bleeding all over.”
Something is shaking inside Sephiroth, along with the way Tifa's voice begins to tremble.
“You know what he told me as he was bleeding to death in his mother’s arms?” Her voice is as quiet as a whisper.
They wait in frozen silence. Unable to bring themselves to imagine it in their minds.
In Cloud’s last moments, what pleas and requests would he have said?
Sephiroth vows to keep it, fulfill it, and live by it.
“He said…” Tifa turns to them, eyes red with tears threatening to spill. “He said, ‘ Tifa, I did it… ’”
“‘I got to protect you this time.’”
Devastation shatters Sephiroth. He feels pieces of his heart falling out of his chest the same way Tifa’s tears fall down her cheeks.
In the countless battles he’s been through, Sephiroth would often try to imagine how he dies. What would his final words be? As a General, he’s revised his will countless times. He sees himself dying in a battle in the name of Shinra, using his last breath uttering curses to his enemies, hoping his soulmates would be alright without him, relieved to finally be free of Hojo’s clutches.
But Cloud says he’s glad he got to protect his friend. He’s glad that his friend is safe.
Even if he is bleeding and in the face of death.
He is still thinking of other people’s safety.
How can such a selfless person exist?
How dare the planet take such a kind soul away so soon?
“And it was only after that,” Tifa hurriedly wipes her tears. “That I was able to remember what happened all those years ago.”
“Oh, Goddess…” Genesis mutters, heartbroken. Zack’s lips turn into a pout in an attempt to hide his frown. Angeal takes a deep breath to himself.
“The other kids in town finally admitted everything too, feeling bad about what happened to Cloud. My dad tried making amendments but it was too late.” Tifa’s voice cracks.
“He’s gone now. And his mother left us too.”
Tifa turns away from them once more as she wipes more tears from her face, a weak attempt to hide her sadness. Sephiroth and the others stay on a respectful distance to give her a moment but she continues to share. Tifa talks like she doesn’t want the memory to fade away in time.
“I was so happy that day too,” she says in a feeble voice. “We finally had a proper conversation while preparing for the festival. Talking about our plans for Yule.”
“Yule?” Zack asks in gentle curiosity.
“Oh right,” Tifa makes a small wet chuckle. “Yule isn’t really something celebrated outside this place.” Tifa glances back at them. “It’s a year-end celebration. One of the oldest Nibel traditions—giving handmade gifts to loved ones.”
Sephiroth listens to every word intently. Drinking in all the little details and culture that his Dreamer grew up in.
“Cloud…” Tifa’s lips are quivering in an effort to keep her voice steady. “Cloud was telling me how he plans to learn swordsmithing soon. How he wanted to make some swords for Yule since his soulmark had sword symbols.”
Sephiroth takes a sharp breath. His eyes shake at the mention of soulmarks.
Tifa is absentmindedly tapping a part of her chest just below her clavicle. A spot that Sephiroth knows is where Cloud’s soulmark is located. Her own soulmark is proudly displayed on her right arm where her deltoids meet her biceps. Flowers surrounded by weapons of all kinds.
The mark is entirely black. Indicating that every soulmate is still alive.
Sephiroth cannot help himself but feel the pang of sour jealousy at the sight.
“He said that he’s been learning sword fighting from his mom too—that he wanted to make his soulmates proud,” Tifa hurriedly wipes her eyes before any tears get to fall past her lashes again.
“But he never got to meet or dream of them in the end…”
“ Gaia, ” Angeal sighs. This is too much for him to bear. Zack is sniffing, his own lips are trembling in an attempt to hold back his cry.
“ My friend, the fates are cruel, ” Genesis laments. “Cloud deserved so much more.”
“Indeed,” Sephiroth takes a deep breath to try and calm his breaking heart. “The least we could do is to not make his death in vain. Investigate the reactors and surrounding areas; make sure this never happens again.”
He turns to Tifa. “And perhaps a renovation on the local bridges? I shall include a budget request on that in our report.”
Tifa laughs at that, wet with red-rimmed eyes. “You have my thanks for that, General.”
Their trek comes to a halt right before a steep cliffside, some of its crevices and ledges are smeared with paint, bright but worn down by the weather. Tifa gestures to it.
“We just need to climb through these cliffs and the reactor’s entrance will just be ahead.”
*
Having visited multiple mako reactors his whole life, Sephiroth knew what to expect.
After all, Shinra has the tendency to reuse blueprints and floor plans to save budget, disregarding the unique geography and nature of the different regions. Sephiroth remembers hearing Reeve Tuesti, the executive director of Shinra's Urban Planning division, protesting with President Shinra once during a meeting. About how important it is for mako reactors to be designed in consideration with the local geography and nature to maximize safety.
But the President was more concerned with giving a uniform impression of majestic power and saving money. Hence, all mako reactors had the same layout and appearance. Monotone metallic giants with the eerie green glow and nauseous stench of mako.
Sephiroth expects no difference from Nibelheim’s reactor. Even if it was the first ever reactor, he knows that the inevitable glow and smell would welcome them all.
Nothing prepares him for what he sees.
“What on the planet happened here?” Genesis exclaims with disdain.
The reactor’s exterior is horribly rusted and overgrown with weeds. It is terribly unmaintained unlike any other reactors Sephiroth has ever seen. But that is already the best condition. The interior is entirely in shambles.
“Oh my gods,” Angeal takes in the disaster-stricken surroundings.
“This… This does not seem like simple abandonment to me, guys.” Zack says in a hushed voice.
Inside the reactor, everything is in different states of being destroyed and damaged. Signs of intense battles are strewn all over the failing structure. Bullet holes and violent gashes run all over the walls and floors. Burnt marks from magic combat blacken what should have been the mako-resistant materials of the reactor’s architecture.
“Only someone of high caliber with materia and close hand combat can do this much damage,” Genesis inspects one of the burnt trails on the hallways leading to the core of the reactor. The magic dealt here is definitely at its maximum level and output. “There’s no record of such a person near this area. None under Shinra nor from any reports on Wutai either.”
“Do you know what happened here?” Sephiroth turns to Tifa for an answer.
Tifa looks just as lost and surprised. She shakes her head. “No… No one’s been up here ever since the last of Shinra’s employees left years ago. Dad even made it a strict order to not go anywhere near here. I don’t know anyone back home who’s capable of this either.”
Sephiroth frowns. Something akin to a bitter and violent fight must have happened here, yet there are no traces of who or what sort of parties were involved in this.
The ruins look relatively fresh, given that the stinging smell of burnt mako and metal is still in the air. Sephiroth assesses the place one last time, disliking the idea of bringing an innocent civilian any deeper into the ruined reactor.
He turns to Angeal. “Angeal, you and Zack stay behind with Tifa. Genesis and I will go on ahead to the core of the reactor. I estimate that whatever happened here was only within the recent months. Whoever did this may still be nearby—we must never underestimate them.”
Everyone gives an affirmative response. Genesis lights up a small fireball to guide them into the dark hallway.
“Even the emergency lights are out.” Genesis notes with a frown. “It’s almost as if the entire power supply disappeared from the reactor.”
“Yes, whoever did this, was out to destroy the reactor and entirely shut down its functions. I am surprised the company did not get notified of this,” Sephiroth purses his lips. This is a serious matter. “I suspect that the intel might have been intercepted to prevent this incident reaching the company.”
“ Infinite in mystery. ” Genesis sighs as they continue to trudge along in the dark. The stench makes everything even less exciting.
*
There is no core in the reactor.
Or more like the room where it’s supposed to be is entirely blown up to the point beyond recognition.
Had it not been his knowledge of the standard floor plans of the reactor, Sephiroth might have even doubted that this place is where the core should be.
The entire room is burnt into a crisp, blackened and falling apart. The walls had more holes than structure, the ground is littered with what appears to be destroyed tanks and wires, the ceiling is long blown away allowing sunlight to stream in. Not a single drop of mako can be found, although its burnt smell lingers in the air as if someone boiled the entire reservoir to the point of evaporation.
“Goddess, it reeks here.” Genesis does not hide his displeasure. “Absolutely putrid.”
Sephiroth’s nose also begins to hurt from the smell, amplified even worse with his enhancements. It reminds him of the labs a bit too much for his liking.
Hojo has always enjoyed playing with fire after all.
They make a quick scan of the area until their senses cannot take it any more. Their bright viridescent eyes begin to water from the odor. The foul smell clings onto them as they take their leave after one last glance.
Simply thinking about how he should word his report about this is already giving Sephiroth a headache.
*
Other than a handful of Nibel wolves, there haven't been many large or threatening fiends anywhere near the area. Not even a single trace of dragons or the like.
They trace the tracks of the reactor’s mako pipes, theorizing that any leaking mako may have been a breeding spot for the abnormal variants. The pipes are indeed damaged but the mako has long been gone. A small creek of crystal clear water runs through it, washing away whatever could have influenced a mako-induced variant.
Sephiroth frowns. Things are lining up too conveniently.
“You mentioned that ever since the harvest festival’s disaster last year, there haven't been any more sightings of unusual fiends, is that correct?” He asks Tifa.
“Yes,” The girl nods. “A few months after that, even the wolves in the mountain have gotten less aggressive. We were able to celebrate a peaceful Yule. It’s been around seven to eight months of no sightings now.”
Sephiroth and the others share a look. Eight months of peace. The destruction in the reactor is recent enough to fall into that timeframe. The draining and cleaning of the mako pipes could have only been possible if the reactor stopped working. The lack of mako-induced fiends which should have been the result of the pipes leaking would have only been possible after everything else had already happened.
And Cloud died eight months ago.
Someone had come and did all of these before them. Knowing exactly what was the source and how to make sure a berserk variant never descends upon the village again.
Someone powerful enough to destroy the reactor and kill multiple wild fiends.
“You also mentioned,” Sephiroth says slowly, unsure of what to make out of his own conclusions. “That Cloud was learning sword fighting from his mother?”
Tifa blinks at that, not understanding the connection at all. But she answers honestly, “Yes, Mrs. Strife is from a family of old Nibel warriors. I heard Cloud’s father was a great hunter as well when he was alive.”
She frowns, eyes widening at the realization. “Surely, you’re not thinking that Mrs. Strife did all these?”
“It may be a possibility that we can neither prove nor disprove,” Angeal says, sighing softly. “One must never underestimate the strength of mothers.”
Sephiroth’s chest aches at the words. Should that truly be the case, he wonders if his mother ever fought for him like this. Fought for his freedom from Hojo. Fought for his life away from Shinra. Fought for his future as a human rather than a living weapon.
He shakes the bittersweet thoughts away from his mind before it could drown him any further.
Wherever his mother is, all he hopes is that she’s living a better life than he is.
*
It has been a long day. Not that the hike to the reactor and investigation of the surrounding wilderness drained his stamina. As frustratingly unfruitful as it was.
But— Gaia— the stories and memories about Cloud he’s heard today are like daggers piercing his heart.
How else should he feel when strangers remember him so fondly in memory but he has nothing other than dreams about his soulmate?
The regretful thought that they may have left Cloud’s only remaining family struggling and fighting all alone makes it an even harder pill to swallow.
Sephiroth lies down in bed with a sigh. He closes his eyes wearily and the next moment he opens it, he is outside the inn—standing in the town square.
The entire village is on fire.
“Sephiroth!” Genesis calls to him. He turns to see the rest of his soulmates making their way towards him. Everyone is equally confused and alarmed.
Are they under attack?
Before anyone could say anything else, a furious cry catches their attention.
“Sephiroth!”
They all freeze at the angry tone. Four heads turn to find a middle-aged man holding up an old rifle pointing at them. Sephiroth recognizes him as one of the townspeople who greeted him this morning. A couple of other men join him with the same threatening intent. All with eyes that burn of betrayal and rage.
“W-Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Zack jumps in front, arms out ready to mediate.
Sephiroth frowns. He’s received countless looks of such nature in Wutai. But he’s done nothing in Nibleheim to gain this reputation.
Angeal steps in. “There must be a mis—”
“You son of a bitch!”
“Murderer!”
“You… Monster!”
Sephiroth opens his mouth about to speak up. His throat is dry at the fear of having done something that displeased Cloud’s people. Something cold passes right through him that stops him from speaking.
Suddenly, another Sephiroth emerges into their view.
Passing right through the others like a ghost, he walks calmly towards the three men. Masamune glints under the heated light of the flames around them. The three gunmen adjust their aim as their target approaches.
“… What in Gaia…” Genesis takes a sharp breath.
“Wait—What???” Zack pauses in confusion.
“… Another memory…” Angeal murmurs. Sephiroth agrees silently. Unable to speak as horror insidiously creeps into his guts.
In three smooth motions, Masamune sends blood splattering over the burning ground. Three bodies fall. The sounds of its impact are soft amidst the loud roaring fire devouring the village.
Sephiroth does not bother to spare the corpses a glance, the same way he wouldn’t mind the dead insects crushed under his heels.
He slowly turns around. The howling flames dance around him like children of hell celebrating the devil’s return. His silver hair swaying eerily with the swirling fire, casting an ominous shadow over his face lit by the crimson glow.
He smiles. Dark. Twisted. Mesmerized by a vision no one else can behold.
Slitted pupils sharply contrasting the glowing mako green irises. Staring ahead like a moth drawn to deadly light.
With one last turn, he walks away. Masamune in his hand follows the movement. Its trajectory cuts through space like an imaginary line.
Drawing a point of no return.
The inferno engulfs him into an embrace.
Hell welcomes another fallen angel.
“Who was that!?” Zack spins his head to look at Sephiroth. Eyes wide with fear and worry and confusion. So much confusion. “That is nothing like Sephiroth at all!
“Someone’s imposing him!” Genesis hisses, one arm wrapping protectively over Sephiroth.
Sephiroth feels his own gut twisting at the sight. He’s seen thousands of images and footage of himself thanks to Shinra’s campaigns. Sometimes framed in violence and bloodshed to give power to the company’s propaganda.
But this. This is so sickeningly wrong to look at.
He knows that this is another one of Cloud’s memories. Just like Zack’s case, it is something that never happened to him.
It will never happen in the future either. He vows it in his life.
Yet deep down he is afraid.
He remembers Zack saying how his own actions according to Cloud’s memories are something he would have done.
Sephiroth dreads the idea that deep down he is capable of doing this.
Because despite whatever goodness in him his soulmates see, he knows that he is a monster. A murderer. A living weapon.
The scenery drowns itself in the fire. The flames part halfway like curtains unveiling a tragic play.
They are now inside the Nibelheim reactor.
But unlike what they saw up in the mountains this morning, the reactor is not yet in ruins. Not that its abandoned condition is in any better state. The air is far more chilling compared to the temperature this morning. There is something ominous hanging in the air.
The sound of heartbroken sobs rings across the metallic walls. Sephiroth and the others feel another wave of dread for what is to come.
“Dad! Dad…” Tifa is kneeling on the floor beside an unconscious mayor.
Brian Lockhart is in a pool of blood. There is a wound on his chest. He is unmoving.
He is dead.
Sephiroth and the others run to the scene in high alert. He knows it’s a dream. That none of this has happened. But it still feels horribly wrong to see someone who just greeted them mere moments ago lying dead before them.
The closer they got, the clearer the details became. Sephiroth catches a glimpse of the wound on the mayor’s body, bleeding like a freshly dug spring.
Recognition makes Sephrioth’s blood run cold.
“Impossible…” Angeal whispers beside him in disbelief.
“What in the Goddess is this!?” Genesis hisses.
“That’s… that’s…” Zack’s voice quivers.
“It was Sephiroth… wasn’t it? He did this, didn’t he?” Tifa asks through tears, her body shaking with unprocessed grief. No one answers her.
“Sephiroth… SOLDIERS… Mako… Shinra… I’m sick of all of this!” Tifa clenches her fists, screaming her agony out into the empty hollow walls of the reactor.
On the ground not too far from her father’s body lies a long blade. She gives herself another moment to hold onto her father for a final embrace before slowly, shakily getting up. She picks up the weapon and makes her way into the room where the hall leads up to.
Sephiroth stares into Tifa’s disappearing back. The blade in her hands is not anything else but his sword. Masamune.
But how can that be? Sephiroth never leaves his blade so haphazardly like that. He barely even allows others to wield it.
Something is very disorientingly wrong with what they are seeing unfold before them.
They follow Tifa’s figure into the next room. Inside, the temperature drops even further. The ominous red glow and the sickening smell of mako makes the atmosphere feel even worse.
Tifa is already walking up the stairs. At the end of which Sephiroth stands. His lone silhouette is bathing in the artificial glow emitting from whatever lies in front of him. His arms are outstretched as if he just finished talking about something grand. Yet there is no one else inside the room other than Tifa who his back is turned to.
“You murdered my dad… you burned my village…” Tifa says in a trembling voice dripping in fury. There is a fire that burns in her eyes. Flames of anger and eagerness for death.
She charges towards the General. Movements clearly unfamiliar with handling long weapons such as Masamune. Sephiroth calmly turns to her, catching the blade in one hand and pulls it up.
But Tifa is strong willed and determined. She doesn’t let go of the weapon even when the General lifts her off her feet with it. Maybe deep down she also wants it all to end for her too. Join her mom and dad, cross the Nibel mountain and never return.
In a single smooth motion, he takes the blade off her hands and spins it to a slash. Tifa falls off the stairs, her blood trailing behind her in the air.
Sephiroth takes a sharp breath as he takes in the scene. Gaia knows he will never do this to Tifa who bravely guided them through the mountains just this morning. They even had a heartfelt conversation about Cloud. How could he ever bring himself to turn his blade against the person his soulmate died to protect?
Sephiroth looks down at the tumbling figure. Unimpressed. Above him, reflecting under the cold light of the room, is a metal plaque, clearly labeling whatever glows underneath it.
JENOVA.
Sephiroth forgets to breathe.
“… Mother…?”
What is this? Just what on the planet is he witnessing?
“What is this!?” Genesis echoes his sentiment in an offended hiss that is unable to hide his shock.
“Jenova? But… But that’s…” Zack mumbles, lost and confused.
“This shouldn’t be… what is this name doing here?” Angeal’s arm wraps around his shoulder protectively, as if he wants to shield Sephiroth from bearing this dream any longer.
This nightmare.
The scene glitches like a broken VR simulator. Suddenly, violent blade marks and burnt steel appear in the metalic room. An evident sign of an intense battle. Blood splatters are everywhere. Broken tanks and wires act like fountains of fireworks, crackling dangerously with electrical sparks.
A weak cry of pain catches their attention. They turn to find the source and freeze at the sight of—
Cloud.
Cloud is covered with injuries. So many injuries. His trooper gear is torn and damaged beyond recognition. Blood and dust decorate him all over. There are tears streaming down his face, mixing with the bloodied cuts of his cheeks.
Buster sword shakes in his grip.
“WHAT!?” Zack is looking between Cloud and Angeal. “Angeal—That’s—!”
“I don’t understand…” Angeal’s brows furrow as he frowns. Nothing is making sense. Why is Buster with Cloud?
He charges ahead, swinging Buster sword into an attack but the edge of Masamune meets it with an unshakable block. Sephiroth swings his blade and sends Cloud flying away. The trooper lets out a pained cry as he crashes all the way into another room from the impact. Buster sword falls from his grip with a sharp clang.
Numerous cuts and injuries bleed open as he lies on the cold metallic floor. He struggles to get back up. His bright blue eyes blazing with determination through the pain. Sephiroth stumbles over to him, his own injuries taking its toll on him. Masamune, bloodstained, glints under the sickly green mako light.
“Oh my gods…” Angeal mutters under his breath.
Zack’s eyes are watering from the sight and Genesis’ bites on his lips with worry.
Sephiroth wants nothing more but to scream but he feels his own body shutting down. He stands there, frozen in apprehension.
Sephiroth looks angrily at the trooper and his struggles. He pulls his sword and thrusts it forward inevitably piercing right through—
Sephiroth flinches despite the arms wrapped around him. He wants to throw up. He wants to rip his skin. He wants to disappear into nothing.
“No! Don’t—!” Zack yells. The voice doubles like an echo. The rest of them turn to see another Zack Fair, covered in bleeding wounds, collapsed on the stairs.
Angeal and Genesis could not hide their surprised gasps. Sephiroth stares in horror as his other soulmate crawls on the cold steps. The blade work of Masamune decorates him like a bloody piece of artwork.
Masamune pierces through Cloud’s chest. Dangerously close to his heart. Sephiroth watches as the trooper struggles with the blade running through him.
But Cloud is a stubborn fighter. A warrior who has something precious to avenge. Someone left to defend.
Someone to kill.
Deep down, Cloud still refuses to believe he admired the wrong person after all these years. The hero he’s looked up to, the man who inspired him to be a fighter, the general who he longed to fight side by side with…
Burned his village. Killed his Ma. Now he and Zack are at the mercy of his violence too.
He has nothing left to lose. But Zack cannot die.
Zack still has so much left in his life. His girlfriend and their flower wagon. His parents to make proud of. His honor and dreams as a hero.
Unlike Cloud who has nothing left to live for. No people to protect. No dreams to pursue. No promises to keep.
It shatters his heart on so many levels. To be the victim who experiences the destruction he once praised his hero is capable of.
Amidst the chaos in his heart—in the grief for Ma and his home, in the fear and anger and betrayal of Sephiroth, in the daunting face of his own death—a single thought unites his senses in clarity.
Zack has to live.
So Cloud grips the long blade that sticks out of his chest. With all his might he holds Masamune, his trooper gloves are drenched in dark crimson, blood dripping from the thick fabric with his effort.
He slowly lifts the blade, carrying Sephiroth with it.
“That’s—!! Cloud! That’s insane!!” Zack is yelling, hands gripping his raven spikes tightly.
“… Goddess…” Genesis wobbles on his feet, feeling faint from what he is seeing.
“Sephiroth… Don’t look anymore…” Angeal continues to hold Sephiroth. His eyes are shining with tears and hurt.
But Sephiroth cannot turn away. Even when the memory begins to blur in red. Even when the scene begins to crack at its seams.
Cloud holds up the blade, slowly raising Sephiroth off the ground. His posture is akin to an Ancient priest raising his staff towards the sky. A ritual in prayer to Gaia—
Sephiroth’s eyes widen.
—for the safety of the people,
“No…” The General refuses to let go of his weapon.
—for the bountiful blessings to come,
“Impossible!!” Disbelief drips from Sephiroth’s words.
—for the continued good life in the future.
Like the priest who turns to scatter blessings over the crowd after prayer, Cloud makes a powerful swing to the side, causing Sephiroth to let go of Masamune and crash—
There is a dying cry but its sounds are muffled out by the crackling noise of mako powered electricity.
It rings like fireworks in celebration of some joyful event.
Perfect for a victory in battle.
Perfect to drown out the mourning cries of survivors.
The scene erupts into flashes of sparks before any of them can see what happened at the end. But the image of Cloud’s figure struck with Masamune continues to haunt them like an afterimage. Azure blue eyes, burning of hurt and betrayal brands itself into Sephiroth’s mind.
“Whatever this is. This is definitely not happening.” Sephiroth swears. He feels warm arms wrapping him into an embrace. The weight grounds him.
A fleeting “what if” crosses his mind.
What would have become of him if he didn’t have his soulmates?
Angeal who taught him how to make his first home cooked meal. Patient and understanding of Sephiroth’s awkward manners and social skills. The ever calming anchor in his troubled life.
Genesis who taught him how to warm his baths and take care of his hair. His dramatic and competitive personality are always the most colorful highlights of Sephiroth’s day. The fire that lights up his monotonous life.
Zack who taught him how to pull off harmless pranks in Science labs as little acts of rebellion. Doing little mischievous actions that made Sephiroth feel more powerful and courageous than any battles he ever fought. The lasting warmth in his cold life.
And Cloud. The soulmate he’s never met. But he learned to love nonetheless.
Cloud who taught him how to appreciate the small things in life. To pause and just watch the sunlight, the moonlight, the trees, the flowers, the stars, and the skies. A breath of fresh air in his mako-stenched life.
Each and every soulmate completes him in ways words cannot express. He knows that without them he might’ve had the same crazed look in that Sephiroth's eyes. Lonely. Lost. Lifeless.
The thought sends a shiver down his spine.
Their surroundings shift, lighting up with dull sunlight. The air is dry, devoid of any temperature at all. It holds a weary atmosphere that Sephiroth cannot quite name.
Sephiroth fears to see what else comes next.
He does not want to see any more violence created by his own hands.
Sephiroth and the others take in the new environment. His heart sinks at the realization that it is a place all too familiar.
Midgar is in ruins. The skeleton of a once arrogant giant.
“I understand nothing!” Zack scratches his head frustratedly. “This is not supposed to be Midgar, right?”
“It probably is,” Genesis is inspecting a building. “I’d recognize that tower everywhere.”
The Shinra tower is in a very sorry state. It is more like a towering pile of debris than anything else. The plates of Midgar are in all kinds of ruins. It is a jarring thing to see how the city that is known to be the company’s pride and heart lies at the brink of collapse.
“Something… must have happened…” Sephiroth winces. He doesn’t want to believe this is a memory worse than the previous one but he cannot help feeling that it is.
A worn down poster flies past them, carried by the dusty wind.
It’s the logo of Shinra and its reactors marked by a large X mark. Angry bold text frames the image.
“Shinra is killing the planet. End the reactors now…” Angeal reads the poster’s contents out loud.
“The reactors did this?” Genesis gestures their surroundings in disbelief. “As much as I hate the smell, I find that hard to believe…”
Plumes of smoke erupt from one of the abandoned buildings. The four of them shared a look before hurriedly making it towards the commotion.
One of the abandoned towers is collapsing from the top as if blown by a bomb. There is a figure hanging by the edge of it. A man in a dark suit is standing on a giant sword that is struck on the building acting as a makeshift ledge.
“It’s Cloud!” Genesis points.
“What is he doing in there?” Angeal raises his voice in panic. The structure’s falling debris is hurtling towards Cloud who is standing there, watching it fall.
They are finally closer to the scene, running past obstacles like they are simple holograms. The view becomes clearer.
Cloud moves his feet on the Fusion sword, stepping on one of its hidden mechanisms. Another handle inclines to an angle and Cloud pulls out a second blade from his sword. He wedges it to a spot next to him and steps on it so that he has one foot on each handle.
Then he drops himself in between the blades, hands catching the handles in ease. He twists his body, feet kicking the wall. Taking advantage of the momentum, he spins and pulls both swords out of the building’s wall.
He slices through the falling debris. Dually wielding his blades, cutting through thick concrete with singular swings like they were made of foam.
“Holy shit.” Zack’s jaw is on the floor. “That’s the most badass thing I have ever seen.”
Genesis smirks with pride. “That’s our soulmate for you.”
But their smugness disappears as soon as they see a second figure emerging.
A large chunk of falling concrete explodes before it reaches him. A single long sword emerges with a dark cladded figure. Silver hair wildly dancing against the dusty winds.
Sephiroth. Masamune in his hand, aiming towards Cloud.
“Whoa—What!? Another fight with Sephiroth??” Zack’s hands are in his hair again. Disbelief painting his face.
“Not our Sephiroth.” Angeal adds. His hands find Sephiroth’s shoulders, rubbing circles.
“Definitely.” Zack corrects himself. He looks at Sephiroth and gives his hands a squeeze.
“This is absolutely absurd!” Genesis makes an angry cry as he watches the fight unfold.
Cloud counters every attack with familiarity. They waltz around the falling structure, not letting the chaos hinder their heated battle. The dual Fusion swords blur into smears as it matches Masamune’s terrifying speed. Chromatic sparks flare from each heavy exchange between the two fighters like tiny fireworks.
If it weren’t for the shrill crushing sounds of metal against metal filled with killing intent, one would have easily mistaken this as a practiced dance between the two rather than a fight to death.
“Oh, gods,” Angeal mutters feebly. “This puts our sparring sessions into shame.” Sephiroth cannot help but agree. He does not know how to feel about this. Should he feel pride seeing his soulmate being able to match him in a fight?
Or should he feel dread at the fact his precious weapon is used against his precious soulmate with the intent to kill.
After what felt like an infinite series of countering each other, Cloud turns away, merging his sword into whole again and lands on one of the rooftops.
He makes a pained groan and falls to his knees.
“Cloud!” Zack runs to him but his body passes right through Cloud’s figure like a ghost.
“You did so well already, dear.” Genesis whispers. “It was a really good fight.”
But Cloud cannot rest. Not until the world is free of its threat.
Cloud struggles back to his feet just in time to dodge Sephiroth who caught up to him. Fatigue is starting to slow Cloud’s movements down as he dodges and blocks Masamune’s attacks. Sephiroth notices this. With a handful of lunges, he sends Cloud flying back, crashing into the broken structure.
A puff of dust shrouds Cloud. His injured grunt is the only thing that indicates he is still alive.
Sephiroth does not wait for Cloud to stand. He positions Masamune into a familiar stance.
Zack, Angeal, and Genesis cry out at the ominous pose. Sephiroth feels his own stomach twisting at the inevitable damage.
Sephiroth charges. His momentum cuts through the smoke, revealing Cloud’s figure enveloped in the faint blue glow of a Limit Break.
He is unfazed as he charges forward, meeting Sephiroth’s blade with his own.
All five devastating strikes of Octaslash are countered by Cloud’s Omnislash in perfect accuracy and unwavering strength.
“WHAT!?” Genesis is hitting Angeal’s arms in rapid succession as he points at Cloud. “Angeal! That’s—”
“It’s perfectly done.” Angeal agrees in a whisper. “A perfect counter for Octaslash we’ve been trying to pull off.”
Sephiroth dodges the remaining lunges of Omnislash. Cloud jumps to land his final attack but Sephiroth sees an opening. He thrusts Masamune, piercing through his chest.
Cloud lets out a cry in pain. A familiar and overlapping memory flashes before his eyes.
“No! No! Not again!” Zack cries, pulling on his spikes to keep himself sane.
“What in Gaia is wrong with you!” Genesis yells at the dreamscape’s Sephiroth. He turns to Sephiroth with a tender voice. “Not you, dear. Goddess knows how horrible this is to watch for you.”
Sephiroth remains quiet as he stares at the scene as it unfolds. He belatedly registers that Angeal has his arms over him and Genesis is squeezing his hand.
“Is this the pain you felt before, Cloud?” Sephiroth smirks like a predator toying with its prey. He watches Cloud’s figure dangling from Masamune with sadistic amusement . Cloud’s pained struggles are music to his ears. “Let me remind you. This time, you won’t forget.”
Suddenly, a singular feathered wing springs from his back, scattering black feathers at its wake.
“WHAT!? WHAT??” Zack is yelling now. “This is getting crazier by the minute!”
“Gaia.” Genesis gasps. Angeal bites on his own lips, afraid that anything else he says would hurt Sephiroth.
And Sephiroth’s mind is blank. He feels his own humanity shrinking away inside him. As if the scene unfolding before him is a truthful testament to his own speculations that he is truly a monster.
Sephiroth flicks his sword upwards, sending Cloud spiraling into the air. He flies towards Cloud, his blade hungry for blood.
Cloud, despite the injury and the loss of stable ground, tries to parry the coming strikes but a single opening is all it takes for Sephiroth to cut through his defenses. He thrusts his blade, piercing right through Cloud once more.
Wingless, Cloud flinches midair from the pain, unable to block the next move as gravity pulls him downwards. Sephiroth launches a series of attacks, stabbing through skin and bones.
Again and again. Masamune calls forth a bloody rain as it pierces Cloud. Again and again.
Despite the literal pain of a thousand blades cutting his flesh, Cloud does not give up. Amidst the flurry of attacks, he catches the tip of Masamune that stabs through his leg. Sephiroth, unamused, flicks him off with the blade. Sending Cloud spiraling downward from their midair battle.
He falls with a wounded cry. Like a bloody shooting star cratering upon impact on the cold hard ground.
Cloud struggles to his knees with his sword as a support. He gets back up as his injuries paint the dull gray concrete in crimson.
“Tell me,” Sephiroth’s voice drips with sickening sadism and mockery. “What do you cherish the most in the world?”
He looks down on Cloud from the ashen skies. The wind blows on his silver hair and dark coat. Dark feathers dance around him like fallen angels. “Give me the pleasure of taking it away?”
“That is not how Sephiroth talks,” Angeal makes an offended gruff.
“Exactly!” Genesis yells angrily.
“Not cool going around stabbing people and wearing someone else’s face, man!” Zack’s voice is loud and upset.
Cloud looks up, breathing heavily from fatigue. There is a cut on his cheek, its blood sprinkled over his blond hair, making his skin appear paler and blue eyes bluer.
For a moment, he just looks so tired. So incredibly tired.
Tired of fighting. Tired of being a hero. Tired of it all.
A voice calls to him in his mind. Light and cheerful. It’s a voice from deep within his soul that is not his own but part of him nonetheless.
“You can do it Cloud!” Zack cups his hands around his mouth as cheers on him despite knowing he cannot be heard. He takes a glance at Sephiroth before yelling, “Beat that fake Sephiroth’s ass for us! The real Sephiroth here with us is so much more better!”
Cloud is mumbling something under his breath. So softly and gently that Sephiroth and the others cannot catch it even with their enhanced hearing. As if Cloud is having an intimate conversation with a spirit no one else can see.
A spirit who lights up a newfound fire in those bright blue eyes.
Cloud jumps to meet Sephiroth once more. Blades sparking as it kisses one another in quick devastating exchanges.
“I pity you,” Cloud’s voice is mellow and soft against the howling winds. “You just don’t get it at all.”
There is sadness stained in the determination that shines in his eyes. And love. So much selfless love to give that it bleeds.
“There is nothing in this world I don’t cherish!”
Sephiroth feels his heart shake at the words. It pulls the urge in him to cry but his body remains frozen, refusing to listen to his senses. He knows it's his body’s learned response. Shutting down and refusing to feel anything. A habit he picked up in the labs that cut open his skin and flesh, again and again.
A cycle of pain and misery that taught him nothing but hate. Hate for Hojo. Hate for the labs and its cold lights, the smell of mako and the needles on his skin. Hate for this world that made him suffer.
Had it not been for his soulmates, he doubts he will ever know what cherishing something ever feels like.
He doesn’t think there is anything in this world he will ever learn to cherish.
Fusion sword gleams dimly amidst the dust and dull skylight.
Cloud twirls his sword into a stance. The azure glow of a Limit Break envelopes him as he defies gravity, jumping high up in the air.
Fusion sword breaks into six smaller pieces, surrounding Sephiroth in a ring formation. In lightning speed, Cloud jumps from one blade to another, using each to deal devastating attacks at Sephiroth who is trapped in the center of the formation. His movements are too fast, leaving lighting bright afterimages following his actions, creating the illusion that he is wielding all six blades at once.
Sephiroth, caught off guard, takes in every blow helplessly.
“Please,” Sephiroth finally finds his voice, hoarse and weak. He feels gazes from his soulmates on him, worried and concerned. “Just end it all...”
The blades of Fusion sword fall into the ground like shooting stars. Tips of the blades hit the ground first, five of them landing, forming a hollow throne awaiting for its king.
Cloud lands effortlessly on his feet, surrounded by his fallen swords. He catches the last one with a single raised hand. His lonely figure amidst the blades akin to the image of a sole survivor in a great war.
“Return to my memories where you belong.” Cloud looks up to the defeated Sephiroth. His sapphire eyes devoid of anything that a victor of a hard won battle should have.
Sephiroth is fading. Dark dust swirling into the air as he disintegrates. But a disappearing body does not stop him from smiling ominously. Evil incarnate.
“I will never be a memory.”
.
I
Will
Never
Be a memory
.
.
.
.
.
Sephiroth wakes up in cold sweat. The hollow promise of his own voice from the dream is still echoing in his head.
He feels sick. Terribly sick. He feels disgusted with himself. Horribly disgusted.
How does one even begin to reconcile with unfamiliar memories of himself?
He remembers sympathizing with Zack in such thoughts when they first saw Cloud’s memories in Modeoheim. It had already been such a horrible feeling to see all the “could-have-beens” dangling before their own eyes. The good moments they could have had.
But this. This is on another level of excruciating agony.
How does one reconcile with the sight of themselves hurting their own soulmate?
“Sephiroth!” Genesis sits up from his bed and runs toward Sephiroth’s bed. Genesis pulls him into a crushing hug.
“Whatever we just saw—I swear to Gaia we know that’s not you.” Genesis holds up his face. “Do you hear me? Breathe, dear. Breathe.”
The door bursts open. Zack and Angeal from the other room tackle the two of them in the bed. Sephiroth feels like he is no longer in control of his own body. His senses go numb along with his muscles. A wave of self-disgust crashes into his system. He knows this feeling very well; it’s the way he shuts down after every lab session that had Hojo playing around his body like a child’s doll.
He knows the drill. His soulmates know the drill.
“Grab a bucket!” Genesis yells and Zack does not need to be told twice before he bolts out of the room.
“Sephiroth! Seph—look at me,” Angeal combs back the sweat-slicked silver hair from his face. “Take a deep breath. Inhale as I count. You have to hold it in, alright?”
Sephiroth doesn’t know if his nod made it through his muscles but Angeal smiles reassuringly. Raising one hand for Sephiroth to look at.
“One… Two… Three… Four… Hold it in for one… two… three… four… five…”
“Bucket is here!” Zack slides to the floor on his knees.
Sephiroth empties his guts in miserable gurgling noises.
*
After what feels like an infinite lasting hour, things are finally calming down. His soulmates are all quietly listening to his breaths that slowly begin to be stable again.
Genesis leans on him with a comforting weight. Zack’s fingers are lightly tracing the soulmark at the back of his right hand. Angeal is rubbing circles on his back in a slow steady manner.
They stay like that quietly in the dark. Only the waning moonlight from the open window casting a faint glow over them. The cool night wind envelopes them in its calming embrace.
“What would you like to do?” Angeal asks softly.
“I…” Sephiroth’s voice is calloused and tired. “I’d like to visit the reactor again.”
He needs to confirm some things with his own eyes.
*
The hike back to the reactor is quiet, with only occasional side comments about the environment or the weather. Sephiroth knows that his soulmates are being considerate of him. Giving him the silence he needs to think, but also pulling him back to reality whenever they sense his thoughts becoming too loud.
Truth to be told, had it not been the presence of his soulmates that keeps him grounded and sane, he might have truly lost it.
The ruins of the reactor appear in their view once more. Its desolation and destruction is the same as when they left it yesterday, but a new sense of dread creeps into Sephiroth’s skin.
He cannot bring himself to imagine what might have happened to his mother if she was truly in the reactor.
The stench of burnt mako in the air pricks their senses. Sephiroth fights the urge to vomit knowing that his stomach has already been empty since long ago. He feels warm and reassuring hands holding him. It steadies his steps as they make it inside the core of the reactor.
There is indeed a metal plaque that has a semblance to what they saw in the dream. Its engraved texts are far too damaged to be recognized. Sephiroth finally recognizes the charred object standing beneath it. Were it not for his familiarity of it in the labs, he knows it would have been beyond recognition for any of them.
It was a mako tank. Specifically one for a human test subject.
Ice forms in Sephiroth’s heart.
“J…… something…… V-A,” Zack attempts to read the marred text.
“Jenova.” Sephiroth says. His insides are already twisting in agony, bracing for the worst impact. “My mother was here.”
He slowly makes his way to the shattered tank. One step at a time, trying to imagine what it must have been like for his mother—
“Watch out!”
Genesis pushes Sephiroth out of the way. A bullet shoots right where Sephiroth had been. It grazes Genesis’ shoulder instead leaving him hissing in pain.
They all turn to the source of the fired bullet. Weapons out in a fighting stance.
A man clad in a red coat emerges from the darkness. The dawn light glints faintly on the golden gauntlet that covers his arm, holding up a gun. He aims it at them. Ready to shoot again.
Sephiroth is reminded of the nightmare where the townsfolk were also aiming their rifles at him. Eyes full of rage.
He becomes afraid at the thought he did something horrible after all.
But there is no anger or hate in the man’s crimson eyes; only wary caution. His voice is deep and guarded as he speaks.
“The answers you seek cannot be found here, Sephiroth.”
