The darkness that binds is everlastingly vague. There are far more things in life than merely love or friendship, as Cloud and Sephiroth prove during that fateful fight in Advent Children.
Disclaimers: I don't own Advent Children or any part of Final Fantasy VII, plus this gets me zero dollars. Just some practise.
A/N: Kadaj and Sephiroth's dialogue comes from the AC movie. A song for this exchange could be "Path" by Apocalyptica.
Through despised eyes
"Our Reunion… I will show the way."
Kadaj!
That name resonated through blood, bone and skin but never escaped. Perhaps by holding it in, Cloud Strife could fervently cling to the insistence that nothing else could change. Protect and imprison such desire, which seemed to suck his breath dry and exhale a twisted hope that was so quiet, it literally deafened him with the silence.
Hence the ex-SOLDIER did not hear the inevitable whisper of what was to come, as he plummeted through an airy veil of invisible conspiracy, while sundering it with his own hope. A hope that sought to free itself of the past… And lost.
"It's been too long-"
Horrifying surety was braced against shock, as something shriveled and died inside with that line.
A smooth brow was unaffected by the mildest lift of one elegant eyebrow. The effect was wintry, akin to a thin layer of frost surrounding steel. As a dumbstruck deliveryman continued staring, his nightmare finally looked up. With a purred hint of foul amusement, that action thankfully numbed everything else that had no place for being felt.
"Cloud."
Malevolent chill gazed into unblinking disbelief, even as the contact was broken with one ferocious sweep of a long-unused sword arm. The memories however, were not.
0------------------------------0
No! Not again! Idon'tHecannotImust… Calm down. I defeated him before, and I will do so once more.
I have to. For the children and everybody's sake, I shall do whatever it takes… even if I perish. I could have died for you once, but now I am prepared to die with you. Because….
How could I have ever admired, much less wanted to be you? When the butterfly emerges from a cocoon, it is supposed to be beautiful and does no harm. It plays a role that does not disrupt the natural order which birthed and brought about its evolution. You were that perfect metamorphosis, and then the accident happened. You mutated into unreasoning destruction, with the true trigger wilfully sealed between your hateful lips. Why? When? How?
Sephiroth, what really occurred for everything to go so wrong?
How did the thirst for upholding justice become mindless obedience? And how could I have ever been drawn by that powerful stench of barbaric bloodlust, our swords locked in struggle, with your face so revoltingly close to mine as one of us leant closer, strange eyes glinting with a danger colder than the furthest star? Yet why do I remember the fleetingly odd softness of silver hair trailing across my skin, as you murmured only death or desolation?
Your purpose comforted me. But your philosophy drove me away.
You offered me an empire once, and I turned it down. Despite the pull of clarity and pride in serving under you, your alienating decay could be sensed. And my faith died, along with respect and only strengthened the determination to survive in harmony with my conscience. Jenova only takes and does not give. There is no balance and hence, that is no way to live.
Ultimately, I need answers that will prevent my descent into your madness. Or allow me to know precisely when to end my existence, for I cannot permit the same painful cruelty —that took Zack or… her— to happen. Because…
I might not survive a second torment of such magnitude.
0------------------------------0
My inferior clone, my pathetic shadow; did you enjoy the relief while it lasted? All I could do was meander throughout the Lifestream and sense the geostigma's progression. Listening to sniveling hopes and desperate stupidity of the people ruining this planet, and tolerating the uselessness of an Ancient's presence. Although dead, she pollutes our purity with her refusal to- I forgot. You're no longer a good child, but a bad boy. You've betrayed our Mother.
I admit; I was brash to kill the woman you call "friend".
Instead, I should have obliterated all possible communication, and left her to rot inside her own body. Bones crushed, limbs maimed and tongue severed. Seen, but not heard; crying out, but unreachably muted; living, but better off dead… your unavoidable goodwill let me rest for a while, and see what wonderful creativity it brings?
You pierced me with your blade before, and I wish to return the favour. But I've changed. Where you were once not worthy to even die by my sword, now I've seriously considered the option… and the answer is still "No". As long as your flesh is adorned with skin, you will not experience the same joyful benevolence I gave whatever-his-name-was. I will take my time and bestow much gratitude upon your unforgettable generosity.
When you grovel for release, I will refuse. I like the idea, plus there are so many things you have yet to experience, and the possibilities to break you with are delightful.
You already have my undying loathing; now embrace eternal hate.
Come, Cloud. Taste the essence that fuels my purpose and bind yourself. Let it purify you, slowly but surely.
For one day, you will be me.
0--------------------------------0
A foggy puzzle did a dizzying somersault as it shook from side to side and landed, while buzzing chaos swam itself into confusing loops.
Nothing was more usefully re-orienting than the white-hot sharpness of an enemy's enmity stabbed through his bicep. Trying to restrain agony from showing but failing, a wounded individual gritted his teeth while glaring balefully at his aggressor. A nemesis who appeared fresh where he was weary, a demon who swore undivided mercilessness; a lunatic who promised rationale bordering on obsession and a pursuer's consistency that in some warped universe, could have passed for tender consideration… At this rate, Sephiroth would ravage his mind and soul beyond recovery.
The eyes of a once-respected supreme general could have been carved from slate, and was shadowed with bluish-grey that had been worn away by time… and madness. There was an almost dreamy look on extraordinarily pale features, as a commanding gaze seemed to arrest the man who was slumped against a chunk of remaining wall.
"What is important to you?"
The question could have been mistaken for kind curiosity, but the tone reminded one of a hellish disaster barely waiting to occur.
"Will you give me the happiness of taking that away from you?"
Al last, the hidden gist of mockingly humble words throughout their whole encounter became exposed to Cloud.
The damage was too deep, the genetic poison too unchangeable. Sephiroth's madness preserved Jenova's goals. Such insanity kept one sane and in a way, dementia made sense. In a manner of speaking, what everyone else had been led to believe wasn't true. Shin Ra's scariest experiment wasn't crazy or a freak, but fulfilling his true nature. It was the only way that monster could live, for regardless of which side he chose, each path only led to implacable despair for always denying essential duty. And to understand that, alongside remembering all that had been taken away drove the blond warrior to the brink.
There he tottered for one perilous second, as various perspectives inside him fought for dominance.
Then Cloud found strength that was once considered to be lost, and he welcomed and regretted what had to be the end. Not a permanent one but as a respite, it would be enough. And six ethereal swords were released for the final stroke.
0-------------------------------0
It finishes here. No more unnecessary sacrifices, no more crying children, no more indulgences of your selfish terror.
There are no words for Nibelheim.
You. Must. Die! Please give in, for I won't beg, and you will be happy knowing that I might ensure Jenova's evil by living on. No matter what happens, I can never be free but all I ask is for you to… vanish back into my darkness and sleep.
0--------------------------------0
Have you ever looked into a mirror, little lost avenger? Ever seen your own eyes changing, outward appearance shifting and roiling with the mood? It was such a fawningly insipid blue when following my every order, until you killed. Then it was fiercely glorious potential that might be ready to stand beside me, when we could finally roam the galaxy to fulfill our Mother's yearning.
But what do I find now? You are more trapped than ever, and the lack of decisiveness shows. How thrilling it was, to see dark blue dullness jolted out of lethargy and into anger. And it was even more satisfying to see a thin watery film lighten that stubbornness while the pain flashed across your boring visage, after I impaled you with graciousness.
It is the complete opposite of when we sparred once, back when I was preparing to fully extend Jenova's truth to you. I slashed, hacked and parried but never stabbed, for you were so far beneath me that you were insignificant and undeserving of such respect. But the growth was there, incredible promise that is now a useless lie.
Finally knocking away your weapon and tainting my victory with your life, I offered redemption. You were confused and so easy to crush, face pale and chest heaving with barely-contained fear and excitement… like a child uplifted with a sudden upsurge of power. And I let my blade drink further, allowed it to bathe in blood that seeped from the wound so close to your heart. Your stiff hands enclosed my mercy and darkened the redness already present, letting more drip from between your fingers as I spoke of the only choice that mattered. Then you started to tremble, as I leant a little closer in front of your sprawled self… and do you remember what you did, that surprised us both?
I won't forget. I doubt you can. Cherish and regret foolish boldness to your eternity, as I will to mine.
It was once believed that the wings of an angel are translucent, feathery and filmy, whereas the wings of a devil are leathery, clawed and black. As a result of all that has erupted between your treachery and my loyalty, I know what mine are.
Do you know what yours shall be?
0-------------------------------0
Masses of storm-darkened clouds dissolved like a spool of unwinding thread, dissipated by invasive radiance that gladly reclaimed its right to shine. A tint of various colours lingered, as streams of sunlight wove flawless tapestry between earth and sky. Remarkably scenic, save for the lone figure suspended by an invisible force, and who was gazing down at the other man that stared up at history.
Each neutral word was imbued with Cloud's dread.
"I… will not remain a mere memory."
With that, the vanquished became a cocoon, and then drifted away into dust.
Leaving the victor to reflect on everything that had gone before but first, there was one thing to deal with.
Now.