The wind whipped across the dusty dead lands, stirring the blonde warriors' hair as he sat in quiet contemplation. 5 years. 5 years since his mother was ripped away from him, town burnt to ashes, and a Silver God fell from his lofty pedestal and into the depths of madness.
He sighed gently, the sound almost matching that of the wind. Suddenly, a quote, long lain dormant by his shattered mind, in the dark recesses of his memory, asserts itself. "My soul, corrupted by vengeance Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey In my own salvation."
The man, one clad in leather, red as the dragon in the Temple of the Ancients, escapes his thoughts, before a name is dredged from that black abyss of his memory, Genesis. The memory, he realises, is not his, but one of his most treasured friends, from the memories of a man that he, too weak to face the world, took shelter behind, the infallible recollections of Zackary Fair.
The breeze blows again, but this time, the blonde swears that he can hear words of encouragement upon it. His lost love, one that he allowed to die, the one Sephiroth murdered, telling him that it's alright, just as she did long ago. In his mind, she is joined by Zack, always having his back, even in the Lifestream, even death not stopping the bond that the men share.
He smirks as he walks towards his motorcycle. This time he swears, this time, I won't fail to protect everyone.
And with that thought planted in his head, Cloud Strife boards Fenrir, and leaves Zack's rusted Buster Sword as he rides away from the lonely cliff where Zack tasked him to carry on, as his living legacy.