We're the divine.
He's a demon.
Sefirot. The way to God.
My personal guide to hell.
I am the One.
Not that I need one.
And you, with your self-loathing and demon's wing...
With my weak will, and weaker heart...
You must be the fallen angel. Lucifer.
I'm just an arm for a sword, whittling my survival down to clashes of steel.
Still striving to overthrow that which is omnipotent.
Sephiroth has the confidence to let me live.
How the devil plays at folly...
Because he and I both know...
For his strength comes from that same God he loathes.
My strength is just borrowed power.
He is a wretched creature who, without anyone to hate...
But weak as I am, I'll settle things with him...
...would soon rend himself to pieces to avoid the gaze of perfection.
...and then I'll rest, because I'm tired.
A peerless abomination.
A perfect waste of life. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, and nothing in the middle.
But take some pathetic comfort, Cloud.
But I will never hurt anyone again.
A God requires his devil.
And neither will he.
So His people will remember to pray for mercy, though He sparingly grant it.
A small miracle for the people who gave me kindness and mercy.
Together...
By myself...
We are that which is divine.
I'll prove I'm still human.
