Disclaimer: No own, no sue. Poor college student. 'nuff said.
Summary: The true mastermind behind Meteor, the Reunion, and all that has occurred on Gaia for so many years lays bare her mind and records her thoughts really were concerning Shinra, Sephiroth, and the Remnants.
Queen's Quornor: Let me just go on the record here by saying that I despise JENOVA. I mean, she's personally responsible for just about everything in FFVII as well as Advent Children, a source of madness and deceit the likes of which I cannot find comparison. Seph, Kadaj, and Yazoo might not like it, but I blame her for every single thing that happened to them and sincerely think that she deserves nothing less than to be blasted right into the center of the sun and thus explode into a zillion fiery pieces. So here's my hate-rant against her, sort of. Trust me, it reads better than it sounds.
Mommy Dearest
The Calamity from the Skies.. Heaven's Dark Harbinger. The Catastrophe. Mother.
I am known by many names, but more than likely, you know me as 'JENOVA.'
That is a suitable name. Mentally-suppressed mortals such as yourselves could not begin to pronounce my true name.
I watch from this planet's Lifestream, and I can only laugh at your foolishness. Do you honestly think that my puppet alone is responsible for all of this? That he is the one who thought to call down Meteor and attempt to attain the powers of a god?
I see that you do.
Foolish mortals. Feeble humans.
You understand nothing.
All that was done was at my bidding.
Everything.
The reports of that power company state that I was discovered by two men, Professors Hojo and Gast. That I was the scientific discovery of the century. So foolish, for all their brilliance. They have no idea that I called them to me. I knew these men would serve as my tools, spreading my power throughout their fellow humans like a plague. The thousand-cursed Cetra had sealed me so none of their number could ever release me from my stone prison, so I would be unable to corrupt them. But the humans, ah, the humans… They are so vulnerable to my machinations. There was only one Cetra left, and her protests went unheard in the wake of my discovery.
The Cetra have long since passed from history, and been forgotten. Yet I remain, intact.
How deliciously ironic.
The humans injected with my cells made interesting tools. I learned to manipulate them, in secret; they never detected my subtle manipulations of their thoughts and actions. And I discovered that through gentle suggestion, I could make them do whatever I desired.
The romantic tableau between Hojo, Vincent Valentine, and Dr. Lucrecia Crescent was the greatest of entertainments, and a perfect opportunity. The humans beneath my control were useful tools, but they did not possess the power necessary to call Meteor to this planet. Yes, that was my goal all along. To destroy this world using the power of Meteor, exactly as I had my own world, and countless others, so long ago.
I needed a tool capable of wielding my power in full measure. A second body, if you will. As my own was locked within its tank, rendered immobile due to passage of time and the spells the Cetra had laid upon it, I required a body that could move where I could not, speak and act as I was unable. And were Hojo and Crescent to come together, an appropriate vessel could be formed. With the proper application of my cells to stiffen the child's mind and body, of course.
So I manipulated the three. I was fortunate that Vincent's father had perished due to Crescent's experiments, leaving her wracked with unceasing guilt. That made her easy to manipulate. Hojo was also simple to control; he had injected himself with my cells, after all. Vincent was a problem that required extermination. So after the two scientists came together, I whispered a plan of murderous intent within Hojo's mind.
But I digress. I had been correct about the result of Hojo and Crescent's mating; a child of superior intellect had been created within the female's womb. However, superior intellect was not enough for my purposes. So I suggested to the expectant pair that they inject my cells within the spawnling while it was still forming. Hojo, of course, easily took my suggestion. Crescent was more hesitant, but gave in at last and allowed the experiment. My cells enveloped the spawnling and merged with its existing genetic code, modifying it as I saw fit.
I suppose it could be said that I made it my child, my son. But that was not my intent. Merely a byproduct of my ultimate goal, that I erased the majority of their genetic contributions and made the spawnling my own.
And so, as a consequence, I had a son.
But I also had a tool.
The child was birthed on schedule and named Sephiroth. As I had expected, the application of my cells had made him far stronger and sturdier than any other child in this world.
Powerful.
Unique.
Exactly what I needed.
Hojo followed my recommendation of removing him from his dam immediately after his birth, denying him the chance to form a mother/child bond with her. I have observed what this connection can do to human children; it makes them dependent upon the ones that birthed them, weakens them and gives them someone to go to when they require aid.
Sephiroth would have only himself to stand on. Due to the experiments I suggested Hojo perform on him, he would be unable to trust. Secretly, he would long for someone to believe in, someone who would love him. Someone he would do anything to please.
In other words, a mother.
Once more, I manipulated Hojo. I whispered into his mind that it would prove beneficial if Sephiroth was never told that Crescent was his dam. Instead, he would be informed that his mother was named Jenova, and that she had died mere hours after his delivery.
The puppet believed it.
So many years alone, unable to trust others. So many years longing for acceptance, for someone who would love him and whom he could protect.
It was so easy to enter his thoughts, almost laughably so, when he entered the area of Nibelheim. He rejected my advances at first, without even realizing it. His mind was strong, almost indestructible.
But I persevered. I led him to the library beneath the old manor, and directed his attention to certain books. The ones I wanted him to read, Hojo's research and notes. All of those notes had been penned beneath my control; the foolish professor would be astounded to discover the contents of those books. He has no memory of ever writing them.
And thus the noose slowly tightened around the puppet's neck.
His entire existence was in question; he was confused, shocked. His mental defenses were down.
Such a simple matter, to slip into his mind and tell him what I wished him to know.
And he believed me.
From that moment on, he was my second body. His actions were no longer directed by his mind, his brain; I had total control over his form. Why, you ask, did I tear off my own head in the reactor? Because my head was the only essential part of my original body. Everything I needed to keep him beneath my control was in my head; I had no need of useless limbs and tentacles. Not when I had a new body, more physically powerful than the original. And why did I throw his body and my head into the mako?
I was ensuring that my control would be permanent. No matter how hard his mind struggled, it could never throw me off. Oh yes, he realized the truth of the matter. But due to the cells bound within his own, due to the merging between my head and his body, he could never rid himself of me. He could not even break free of me long enough to tell someone what had happened. There is no power known to humans or Cetra that could have saved him from me. He was my puppet, and there was nothing he could do about it.
To the very end, he fought against my control.
But he was never strong enough.
I yet find it amusing that my second puppet and his companions never figured out the truth of the matter. The yellow-haired fool was so focused on Sephiroth that he never even considered the implications of my appearance whenever he battled the semi-physical manifestation of my new body. And his followers were so devoted to him, they did not see what he was missing. It was so painfully obvious that this was all my doing rather than Sephiroth's, and yet they never realized it.
Humans are so stupid, little more intelligent than the animals from which they spawned.
But in his fumbling, the blond puppet did manage to sabotage some of my efforts. When I influenced the mako-crazed Hojo to transfer energy from Shinra's Mako Cannon to me, the blond and his companions managed to kill him before the process was completed. No true loss, I believed. I had enough raw power that I did not need the power of the cannon's mako to accomplish my goals.
Hojo was long overdue for his death, anyway. He was all but useless to me at that point, and I had to concentrate upon forcing Sephiroth's mind to the rear of his consciousness. I was in control of his body, but he never stopped fighting me. Poor son of mine; he never will be free of me.
Never.
Still, I never expected the blond puppet to make it so far. I felt certain that I could destroy him, absorb his life-strength just as I would the entirety of the Lifestream when Meteor arrived. But it did not go as planned; first he destroyed my original manifestation, and then my second form, the Seraph. And just when I believed I could annihilate him, with Sephiroth's body as powerful as I could make it, he used a single attack to defeat me.
Sephiroth was cheering my nemesis on as his body was shredded.
And Meteor was destroyed by the infernal Cetra mongrel's prayers, by a combination of Holy and the Lifestream. All I had worked so long for, lost in a single fell swoop.
But I still had a secondary plan.
Under my whispered guidance, Hojo had cloned Sephiroth before he attained the rank of General. There had been many clones grown to maturity, trained in the various forms of combat and taught the art of battle. Most of these had been destroyed soon after the manor in which they were concealed and studied was abandoned, or at my own hand in the Northern Crater, but three had managed to escape and survive to that day. I sought them out, and began prodding at their minds, whispering to them in the darkness of their dreams. The elder two were strong, powerful, but not of Sephiroth's caliber. They would make excellent servants to my cause, but no more than that.
The one that caught my interest was the youngest, Kadaj. He had acted as their leader in their years of solitude; in doing so he had exhibited an intellect and strength far beyond that of his 'brothers.' Furthermore, many of the mental traits I had cultivated in Sephiroth's mind had been duplicated in him.
Vulnerability.
Pain.
Distrust of humans.
A need for acceptance, for love without judgment.
A desire to please, to validate his existence.
A wish for something to believe in.
The longing for a mother.
He was the perfect replacement. Until I could resurrect my Sephiroth-form using his body, of course.
Kadaj was not easy to influence. He did not believe me to be his 'mother' for a long time, nearly two years. At last, his mental defenses broke down and I was able to slip into his mind, rearranging his thought-processes as I saw fit. I possessed him, in a certain sense; the seeds of my resurrection in the form of Sephiroth were fertile within him while they were dead within the other two, and I had possessed Sephiroth. Kadaj was younger, less experienced than his original self. He was strong, but not as strong. Like Sephiroth, he attempted to throw off my control once he realized the truth. But as he was weaker than Sephiroth, he was even less successful in that endeavor than his genetic 'father.' And the other two were so used to obeying their younger brother's commands that they did not question his sudden driving need to find 'Mother' and initiate the Reunion. Kadaj's word had always meant survival to them, and he had never led them astray before.
So now I had three puppets, together the equal of Sephiroth at his –ahem. My – peak. And they all were now searching for my head. My resurrection would not be complete without my cells, and the only remaining ones were in my head at the Northern Crater. The rest of them had been disposed of by Shinra following the Meteor incident. My body, of course, had been destroyed in the attack by the Ultima Weapon. There were a few other viable cells still available, but my head was the best option.
But the damnable Turks had laid hands upon it by the time my puppets arrived, and smuggled it out to their president. Of course I knew where my head was. But for some reason, I was unable to convey this knowledge to Kadaj. I suspect that Cetra mongrel had something to do with it, but I am unsure.
Something else was influencing his decisions after that. It is unclear exactly who; I suspect that Sephiroth may have attempted to lead them astray so I would be thwarted. After all, he was the genetic original. Should he have attempted it, he could have spoken with Kadaj and the other two just as easily as I. And I was distracted enough, I would not have detected his interference.
But whatever happened, it made no difference in the end. Kadaj recovered my head, merged with my cells, and Sephiroth was reborn.
The transformation was complete. I know this because, when I reentered his mind, Sephiroth was already screaming.
The blond puppet had grown weaker with the affliction of Geostigma. Even though the mongrel had healed him, his strength was not what it once had been. He would be unable to defeat me, I was sure. In fact, so certain of victory was I that I decided to torture him a little.
"Tell me what you cherish most," I demanded behind the veil of Sephiroth's smooth voice. "Give me the pleasure of taking it away."
Oh, how he would suffer for stalling my plans for this planet. Even in death, he would writhe in torment.
But determination and hatred flared in his eyes when I said that. Still under the belief that I was Sephiroth, he told me that he pitied me and that I 'didn't get it at all.'
Well, if he cherished everything, then I would just have to take away everything.
I was ready to act upon that thought when he came at me once more, utilizing that same attack from two years ago. What did he call it again? Oh yes. Omnislash. And just as before, I had no defense against it.
Once again, he had defeated Sephiroth. Defeated me
Even as I faded from existence, I could hear Sephiroth thanking the blond, even though he knew he was unable to hear the calls of gratitude.
But I will have another chance. So long as a single cell exists in this world, I can still return. And my cells yet live in many of the descendants of those injected with them. I spoke truth when I told the victorious puppet that I would never be a mere, harmless memory.
Kadaj and his brothers are no longer of any use to me. They are with the mongrel and her purple-eyed whore, protected by their power. I cannot reach them. And why would I wish to resurrect them anyway? They failed me. They are worthless to me, pathetic little boys.
I have no need of such useless 'sons.'
I already have another plan. The blond will soon impregnate one of his comrades, the dark-haired female. And within their child shall be a number of my cells, the few that were once within its sire's body. The mongrel truly believed that her healing waters removed my cells from him. His Geostigma was eliminated, that much is true.
But that does not mean he is free of my influence.
I truly have to thank Hojo for one thing. He is the one that injected the blond with my cells, after the events of Nibelheim. He did so without my say-so, completely of his own free will. It was a spontaneous decision, but it will eventually lead to yet another resurrection, several years down the road, when the puppet is too weak to make use of Omnislash.
Besides, what father could possibly find the heart to destroy his own spawn?
And so, he will never be free of me. Not him, not Sephiroth, and not the Planet.
I will succeed. Sooner or later, I always get what I want.
Always.