In the basement of the Shin-ra mansion in the town of
Nibelheim, a lone figure sat on the cold, stone floor, a book
open in his lap. He leaned back against a book case that made up
the wall behind him, his knees folded up in front of him to
support the dusty, thick book he read. Several stacks of similar
books surrounded him, partially blocking out the dim light of the
narrow room.
He'd been reading the old books from the tall shelves of the
mansion's basement, one after another, for a long time now, so
long that he no longer knew the day or the hour. His emerald
green eyes skimmed over the yellowed pages of this book, just as
they had over the dozens he had already finished with alarming
speed. He'd always been bright, almost too bright... This thought
briefly passed through his mind as he absently brushed a stray
strand of silvery hair from his tired eyes and flipped the page. Not
like the others.... never been like the others....
He fought against the troubled thoughts, battling to be given his
attention, as he continued to read. One of the crooked stacks of
books he'd finished with suddenly fell over, crashing noisily to
the ground, but he did not even look up at the sound. He thought
briefly of how he'd ruined the neat organization in which someone
had obviously put the many books. How long ago? Decades? He
wasn't sure... He absently wondered if they'd be angry, though he
didn't really care. He was angry now... and afraid... and that
was all that mattered.
For countless hours, he went on that way. His feet soon fell
asleep inside his tall, black boots and his neck began to ache,
so he took to pacing the hall, surrounded by the book shelves and
careless stacks he had made along the walls with those he had
finished reading. He walked back and forth, over and over, at a
slow steady pace, the book he was currently reading supported by
one hand. His long, black cloak flowed around him and trailed
behind as he paced, making him appear as if he had wings in the
shadows. He once looked down to see if he'd worn a path in the
concrete floor, then laughed bitterly at the bizarre idea of it.
He focused back on the words of the page before him, quickly
biting down on his amusement, wondering when in his life he'd
developed such an odd sense of humor... He found he could not
recall.
So many things were a blur to him... He could recall facts,
historical events, even battles, with a near photographic memory.
But other things, like past feelings, dreams, personal memories...
When he tried to recall any of them he found himself met with a
puzzling blank. Who am I? he wondered, and not for the
first time. It was the very question that had led him here to
stay in the dank basement of the mansion alone, searching for
answers to the questions that had plagued him for as long as he
could remember.
He paused for a moment, placing the book he carried down beside
his long sword on the cold floor. He sighed and quickly ran all
he knew about himself through his troubled mind, which was
growing more clouded with rambling thoughts and knowledge as time
went on. He knew that his mother's name was Jenova. He had always
known that she had died right after he was born. He'd been told
that she was the one who had named him. Sephiroth. He had
never thought much about his name... it was only what people
called him and of no significance. But a name was all he knew of
his mother. He wondered what she had looked like... if she had
loved him. But what was love anyway? He found that he did not
know. That feeling had always eluded him along with any
understanding of it.
Emotions had always puzzled him... He didn't understand them very
well. Perhaps that was because he found himself lacking in that
area, as if he had never learned how to feel. And how could he,
with the way he was raised by uncaring strangers in a cold, large
building known as Shin-ra Headquarters? How could he learn to
care for others when no one had ever cared for him? He had heard
people refer to him as "cold" and "unfeeling"
all throughout his life. It was with a slight feeling of regret
that he admitted these things were true... But why? Was it only
his upbringing that had made him this way? Or something more?
Something... genetic?
His father was a total mystery to him. He did not even have a
name by which to call him. He assumed that his father had
abandoned his mother before his birth. But why? Because of him?
Why had no one ever told him? Why had he never asked? He gripped
his head with a slender, graceful hand, tightly closing his eyes
for a moment as if pained. So many unanswered questions!
Why didn't he know the things he should about himself when he
knew so many other things? Even as he thought this, he looked
down at his right hand and saw the dark number one that was
tattooed there. When had he gotten that done? What did it mean?
It had been there for as long as he could recall... But why?
Jenova... His mother's name echoed through his head as he
took the open book back in hand and began to read again. It was
an interesting name. That name had been written inside the Mako
reactor here.... Why? Was it a coincidence? What did the reactor
have to do with his dead mother? He remembered the creatures he
had seen inside the pods at that same reactor... Yesterday,
the day before?... placed there by Hojo, no doubt. That man
was insane, to experiment on people in that manner. He was
heartless and cruel, the way he locked humans inside those pods
and exposed them to Mako radiation, forming hideous and dangerous
creatures from them. Was that how I was born? Was I an
experiment too? Am I human... or something else?
He remembered his reaction to seeing the deformed creatures that
had once been human quite clearly. He had immediately begun to
wonder if he was like them for some reason, as if that thought
had always been in the back of his strictly-ordered mind. But why
make that connection then? Unless there was a reason for it...
That was why he was here now. After all this time, he had to know...He
knew he could not live the rest of his life wondering now that he
had begun the search.
A sudden noise from the entrance to the room caught Sephiroth's
attention then, his years of training throwing all senses into an
alert mode of operation. He paused long enough to glance up at
the source. Standing in the entrance was one of the Shin-ra
escorts that had traveled here with him. His name? What is his
name? He couldn't remember, and that troubled him. He was
usually so good with remembering every detail about those under
his command. He was becoming far too absorbed here... dangerously
detached from the reality all about him. Sephiroth cursed
inwardly. He did not want to deal with anyone now... He wanted to
be alone... Alone to find the answers to the questions that had
made up his adult life. Why can I never be left in peace?
Even as he thought that, he did not know exactly what he meant.
The young, dark-haired man stood there for a moment, awkwardly
shuffling his feet as he watched his leader pacing and reading.
Finally he spoke in an unsure voice. "Umm, sir? Are you all
right?"
"Go away..." Sephiroth responded absently, only briefly
flashing the man a glance with his beautiful, shining eyes.
"I wish to be left alone."
"Uhh... are you... sure? You've been down here an awfully
long time... You haven't eaten, or slept either. You seem--"
"I said go!" Sephiroth snapped, slamming the book shut
and glaring up at the man. No, he was more of a boy. He jumped
visibly at the dangerous tone of Sephiroth's usually-calm voice,
as well as the snap of the book, and began to back up towards the
exit of the room, his eyes wide with fear of the man he respected.
"Y-y-yes sir!!" The boy ran from the room and down the
hall. Sephiroth listened to his retreating footsteps for a
moment, then sighed and picked up the book again. What page
was I on....? He slumped back against a shelf and slid down
to the floor, curling up his legs once again as if to protect
himself from something. I cannot leave until I learn the truth...
But even as he thought this, Sephiroth realized he was afraid.
If his suspicions were correct... Well, then, he didn't know what
he'd do.
He briefly glanced up from the floor and caught sight of his
reflection in the glass covering over a painting that had been
placed up against one of the shelves. He took a moment to study
the face that stared back at him, in almost a detached manner.
His green eyes looked serious, burdened, and shone with the
almost-eerie, yet constant glow they held. They had a tendency to
change shades along with his mood, and now they were a deep,
emerald color. His long, silver hair was as neat as ever, hanging
straight down his back, well past his waste, with his bangs
neatly framing his face. His mouth was turned down in a slight,
almost sorrowful frown, as always, and his complexion was rather
pale.
He studied his delicate features and sighed. He knew he was
considered good-looking by most people, if not a bit moody-looking.
He had an attractive face, he was tall, and he was powerfully
built... He seemed unflawed, almost physically perfect. Yet he
realized that he had never dated anyone, and had never really
been interested in dating. It seemed so silly and pointless to
him, as did friendships... and he simply did not seem able to
feel those things... Besides, though they might admire him from
afar, he realized most women were intimidated by him, and were
either frightened or disgusted by his cold, emotionless manner.
Most people were... It was really no wonder. So inhuman...
He stared at the face reflected in the frame with intensity for
moment longer. He had seen that face every day for his entire
life, but he found that he wasn't entirely sure to whom it
belonged any more. Who am I? Am I really the "Great"
Sephiroth as everyone insists on calling me? Or am I someone
else? Something else? Annoyed with himself for becoming so
easily distracted by such pointless reflections, Sephiroth looked
away and began to read again, more resolved than before to learn
the truth.
Suddenly, on the page opened before him, a word caught his eyes. Jenova.
He wrinkled his brow and began to read faster, his hands
trembling slightly with anticipation. This was it. Jenova Project.
Professor Ghast. Jenova. An Ancient found frozen. An idea. An
experiment to create a super-powered being for the Shin-ra army.
Nibelheim. A Specimen. Number 1. Twenty-five years ago. I am
twenty-five years old.... He read on at a fevered pace, at
the same time drawing conclusions in his mind.
Always felt different from others... special....Not like them....
not....human. I'm not.... human? What was done to me? Who am I?
For an instant, his mind was drawn back to a scene from his
childhood. He was seven? Eight? He had been left in a play room
by the woman assigned to care for him at that particular time,
along with three other young boys around his age. He had sat in a
corner and simply watched them with a detached amusement as they
ran about playing with the many toys and trying to out-do each
other.
Finally, one of the boys had come over to him and kicked him in
the leg, smirking. "You're a freak!" he declared loudly.
"You're not like us. You just sit there and never play."
A second boy had joined in then. "No one wants you around!
We don't like you, freak!" He, too, had kicked the young
Sephiroth as he sat there in silence, slowly letting his anger
build. Calmly, he had begun to rise as the boys surrounded him,
continuously chanting the word freak. Sephiroth had reached out
to the first boy, and with all the strength in his young body
grabbed him and threw him into a wall. The boy began to sob,
screaming for his mother, as Sephiroth punched the second boy,
then the third. The fourth ran from the room, and soon a nameless
adult arrived and took Sephiroth back to his room. He'd never
been allowed to play with other children again. He didn't
understand why at the time, really... only that they had not
liked him, and he was able to hurt them easily. You freak....
Not like us! We don't like you, freak! Really hurt those poor
boys! Dislocated shoulder. Broken nose. Lost a tooth. Too strong
to play with the others. Should have never been allowed near
normal children! Not normal...
The young Sephiroth became truly conscious of how
different he was from others at that moment, and he had never
felt as though he belonged ever again. It was a difference he
could not fully explain, or even understand within himself. He
only knew that it was still there, and that it always had been,
ever since he was small.
Returning to the book before him, the details of the experiment
flashed before his eyes, and though he wanted to look away he
found he could not. I must know! And then he saw it. Right before
his eyes, the worst of his nightmares and fears became real. All
too real...
Sephiroth stopped dead in his reading, his eyes widening and his
mouth dropping open slightly. His hands were shaking, and a bead
of sweat slowly ran down his cheek... There, in the small print
on the page... was his name. "And the one who was produced
was named Sephiroth," he whispered to himself. He stared at
his name, letter by letter, over and over. And when he realized
what this meant, Sephiroth, the calm, brave, emotionless head of
SOLDIER, admired the world over for his actions and dignity,
snapped.
Sephiroth... I am Sephiroth. I was the one... who was....
produced.... not born. I... am the child of Jenova... An ancient,
no, a Cetra... Not human.... not like the others. One of the
Cetra.. An heir to the planet... Superior to humans... all-powerful...
The humans wronged the Cetra in the past, took their planet in
their greed!! And they have wronged me! Wronged my mother and I...
They will pay. I have learned the truth and I will show them....
Show them they cannot wrong an heir to the planet!
Even as the chaotic, enraged thoughts pounded through his
aching head, Sephiroth returned to the book and continued to read
the story, as if possessed by some kind of demon. He read the
details of what was known of the Cetra and their past, the
details about Jenova and the Jenova Project... He read everything
that was listed about the "specimen" used in the
experiment. I was a specimen... an experiment.... nothing more...
.Born out of scientific curiosity and greed...
Sephiroth hung his head, allowing the inner rage at having been
lied to and having been so deeply wronged wash over him like a
wave. The poison of anger filled his mind and his heart. As the
new information swirled around in his head, echoing cruelly, he
lost all sense of reality. SOLDIER was nothing but a joke... a
handful of puppets for the Shin-ra and their experiments. His
life had been a joke. He was not who he thought he had been, who
others thought him to be. He was no one. No one cared. No one
ever had. No one ever would. He was simply a number in a line of
experiments. It was all too much to bear.
When he looked up again, there was a new glow in his eyes. The
glow of rage. The glow of insanity. What he had learned was so
overwhelming that is took him over, conquered his mind... He
could think of nothing else but his rage... and his desire for
revenge. He continued to hold the revealing book tightly in both
hands, until his knuckles turned white and his fingers dug into
the carefully-bound cover. He purposefully leaned down and picked
up his sword, the weapon that had been at his side through the
war and brought him such glory. Now he knew why only he had been
able to use such a weapon, why he was so bright, why he had such
strength... Not like the others.... special... different.
Better. His rapid heart beat pounded through his head and he
took a step forward, covered in a haze of anger and delusion. It
was then that a second young man entered the room.
Cloud Strife. Sephiroth remembered his name. He had just
recently made SOLDIER: First class. He was young, strong...He had
potential. Sephiroth's rational mind spoke only briefly to him
before being engulfed by his rage and fresh insanity once again.
Cloud stared across the room at Sephiroth, who suddenly realized
he was still pacing with a book in hand. He decided to wait... He
would not act just yet... But he knew what he had to do. His rage
had taken him over completely, until he could not think of the
consequences or any other solution. Sephiroth had a plan now.
Perhaps this was the first real plan that had not been the result
of someone else's experiment.
Cloud studied Sephiroth quizzically with wide blue eyes. He was
so young and naive, this one. "What are you doing?" he
asked cautiously, as if he could sense something was not right.
"Traitor," Sephiroth muttered as he looked down at the
book once again.
"Excuse me?" Cloud asked, truly puzzled.
"You and your race... all traitors."
"My race? I-- I don't understand what you mean."
Cloud's young face took on an expression of alarm then. His
slender fingers inched toward his weapon ever so slightly.
"Ha, ha, ha!" Sephiroth laughed bitterly, throwing back
his head and chuckling until it hurt and he had to clutch his
side with his free hand. He abruptly stopped laughing with a sigh
and looked out at Cloud from beneath his silver bangs.
"You are a fool," Sephiroth said with hatred in his
voice. He proceeded to calmly and emotionlessly relate the story
of the Cetra he had just learned from many hours of reading the
old, thick books, sparing him no detail of their loss of the
planet they loved to the weaker humans. When he finished,
Sephiroth began to slowly walk toward Cloud, who stepped aside in
fear.
"He's gone insane...." Cloud thought in a panic. "Whatever
he's read down here... It's made him lose his mind! Oh man....
What should I do?!"
"Out of my way. I am going to see
my mother." Sephiroth carelessly shoved Cloud aside and
stormed past him, his Masamune out and ready for use. Cloud
swallowed nervously and called after his leader.
"Sephiroth?! Sephiroth, wait!" He turned and ran out of
the room, but Sephiroth was already gone...
Sephiroth walked with a purpose, eyes focused dead ahead, glaring
almost blankly. They glowed with his anger now, his inner fury.
The humans were using his mother for experiments, as they had
used him. He would make them stop. He would show them what it was
like to suffer. Mother... What will it be like, to finally
know my mother?
At the top of the spiraling staircase that led up from the
basement, he marched to the exit of the mansion and stepped
outside without noticing anything else around him.
It was evening, he noted as he stepped through the heavy doors.
The stars were out. It was chilly, and there was a slight breeze.
He vaguely felt goose bumps creep up his arms as the air hit his
bare chest, not covered by his black cloak. He had liked nights
like this one... It was so quiet and calm. But a new hatred raged
on inside him, drowning out all else. None of this mattered now.
It was all a farce. His past did not matter any longer. It was a
lie. His entire life had been a lie! The rage boiled in his chest
and roared through his head. Looking around at the sleeping town
of Nibelheim, he saw more lies. Nothing but lies...
The anger inside of him built to the point of no return. With a
brief shout of rage, Sephiroth chanted the strongest fire spell
he knew on the mansion behind him. He laughed with the rush of
insanity and release as it went up in tall, hot flames. How good
it felt to finally lose control and let out his pent-up feelings!
The fire was beautiful...
Sephiroth turned and set fire to every building within his range.
They are weak, evil.... They will pay! I will make them pay!
Throughout the town, people began to stir from their sleep,
awakened by the roar of the flames, the smell of smoke, and the
insane laughter coming from the streets. As they rushed from
their homes, Sephiroth absently turned to face them, his eyes
gone cold with hatred.
A large, middle-aged man suddenly rushed at him, his face twisted
with anger. "What the hell are you doing? Are you out of
your mi--" Without a thought, Sephiroth slashed him across
the stomach with his sword, spilling his blood onto the street.
He felt nothing. There was no time left for regrets. Several
people screamed as the man fell dead, while others charged at him
in mindless anger. As they came, Sephiroth easily swung his sword
about, neatly slicing them open like the soft cowards they were. No
one can control me now... It is I who am finally in control.
The townspeople were not hard to defeat. They could not stand up
to his skill with the Masamune. They were largely unarmed and not
thinking clearly, so upset by the destruction of the town they
loved. But Sephiroth felt as if he had never been able to see
with such clarity in all his life. It all made sense now. His
entire, lonely life made sense. He'd never had friends. No one
had even so much as hugged him when he was small! He couldn't
relate to the others even once he had gained such a position of
respect in SOLDIER. He thrived on isolation, but at the same time
had always felt a deep, secret longing to be accepted.... But he
couldn't feel as they did. That part of himself that
should have been simply never was... and now he knew why. He was
a Cetra, destined to rule the planet. What need was there for
petty emotion? There was only power now. Power and the need to
throw down those who had wronged he and his kind and sought to
stand in his way.
Soon, no one else opposed him. The people who had survived so far
hung back in terror, trying in vain to rescue loved ones from the
burning homes all about. Sephiroth ignored them all. He turned
his back on them, his sword at his side, and marched directly
into the flames ahead. He felt the heat of the blaze as clearly
as he felt the burning anger inside himself, but he felt no pain.
His goal in mind, he stalked through the fire and toward Mount
Nibel and the path that would lead him back to the reactor there...
and his mother.
Sephiroth walked the long, twisted path up the mountain without
much thought. He had cleared his mind of all but his new purpose.
He would free his mother, and together this world would be theirs!
They would show the humans... They'd never be able to use his
kind again. They would pay in blood.
Within a short amount of time, Sephiroth reached the reactor and
entered. The only sound he heard inside was the metallic sound of
the machinery running, along with his heavy breathing and the
roar of his Ancient blood in his ears. As he neared his
destination, he saw a man exit the room ahead. He blinked,
tilting his head slightly as if he did not understand what was
happening. The man studied him quizzically as well, until he saw
the bloodied sword in Sephiroth's left hand.
"What do you think you're do-- ARGH!!"
Before the man had a chance to voice his question, Sephiroth had
stabbed him through the stomach and stepped over him, instantly
forgetting his presence as he entered the heart of the reactor.
It was here that it had all begun.... He looked up briefly at the
many pods filling the room, each containing a specimen being
prepared by the Mako energy, and the life blood of his mother. An
image of himself being formed in that same, humiliating way
flashed by his mind's eye, fueling him on. He marched up the
stairs and to the heavy door at the top, looking up at the banner
above. Jenova... Mother.
He stood there for a moment, staring in awe. This was his mother....She
was just beyond this door, on the other side. Waiting for him...
Would she know him? Would she be glad to see him? How would it
feel? But none of that mattered... It was the plan that mattered.
Sephiroth saw that he would not be able to open the tightly-sealed
door on his own. After a brief pause, he spoke to his mother for
the first time.
"Mother, open this door!"
He was slightly surprised when, a moment later, the door before
him quietly slid open. Without hesitation, he stepped through and
entered the chamber beyond. A large test tube chamber of some
kind stood at the center, up on a tall platform, taking up most
of the room. A tall, metal sculpture of a strange-looking female
being covered the front of it, obstructing it from view. Many red
tubes filled with some kind of substance led out of that test
tube and into the main room beyond, most likely back to the pods
and the specimens inside. One large tube, however, sprung out
from the center of the test tube that loomed above. Sephiroth saw
it was the only way up to the tube that held his mother... He
sheathed his blade and almost smiled.
"I've come to see you, mother."
As he prepared to step up onto the tube, wanting to come closer
to his mother, he heard a sound behind him and spun about. There
stood a girl, no more than thirteen, tears running down her
cheeks and eyes blazing with anger. He recognized her as the girl
who had served as his guide to this reactor on their first trip.
Her name? Something like Tina... Tifa? That was it.
Sephiroth instantly recalled the man he had just killed. That had
been her father. Yes, it made sense now. He lived in the town,
worked in the reactor... He must have been working here when
Sephiroth entered. And now his daughter had come looking for him
and found him dead.
"Did you kill my father?!" she exclaimed in a mixture
of grief and anger, glaring up at him with tearful brown eyes.
"Why did you do that?!" Sephiroth saw a moment too late
that she held a weapon in her hand, a sword she had gotten a hold
of. She swung it at him with all she had.
Sephiroth, however, was a trained member of SOLDIER, and was so
fueled by adrenaline and anger that he easily stepped aside and
dodged the blow. In an instant, he had torn the weapon from her
small hands and slashed her across the middle with it. The sheer
force of the blow propelled her backwards, out of the chamber and
down the stairs of the room before. She was dead. She had to be
dead. Sephiroth forgot her.
A moment later, he heard yet another set of footsteps approaching.
They paused, and a voice cried out in panic. Whomever it was must
have seen the young girl lying dead, Sephiroth reasoned. They
would turn back. But then the footsteps continued, coming closer
until someone had entered the chamber right behind him. Sephiroth
sensed someone about to attack him, and spun around without a
thought. As he turned, his Masamune was instantly drawn and he
cut a neat arch in the air before him even before he saw his
attacker. He caught sight of a mess of dark hair as his sword
made contact with flesh, and the young man who had been about to
take a shot at him flew from the room and down the steps beyond.
He was the same man who had originally approached him in the
mansion, before Cloud Strife had arrived. His name suddenly
filled Sephiroth's mind. Zack. Shin-ra escort. And as
quickly as he had come, Sephiroth turned away and forgot him. He
was dead now, too. They would all die simply because it served
his purpose.
He turned back to the long red tube before him that would serve
as his ladder up to the glass container that held his mother.
Placing one foot up on it, and then the other, he caught his
balance and slowly began to ascend. Soon, he reached the top of
the narrow tube and stood tall before the metal structure hiding
the liquid-filled chamber beyond from view. He reached out with
both gloved hands, took a firm grip, and ripped the elaborate
metal cover right off of the face of the large tube and away from
all of the machinery. It weighed nearly half a ton, but it felt
as light as air to him. He'd always been extremely strong,
even as a child. Unnaturally strong... He easily threw the
thing aside, then turned back to the center tube and took his
first look at his mother.
She was connected by many smaller tubes and wires into the
reactor and the pods in the other room, wearing a helmet of some
kind engraved with her name. She looked vaguely human and was
noticeably female, but her skin tone was odd and her limbs were
like nothing he had ever seen before. This is my mother...
He stared at her, fascinated, feeling a sort of deep pull inside
of himself. He had to free her, and together they would succeed.
He had to be with her now.
As he reached up to smash the glass chamber entrapping her, there
were soft, quick foot steps behind him. Sephiroth had been
distracted by the sight of his mother and had not heard anyone
enter. But now there was someone directly behind him, so close
Sephiroth could hear their heavy breathing once he became aware
of their presence. He spun around, and found himself face-to-face
with Cloud Strife.
"My family, my town, my friends! Give it back!" Cloud
Strife held a large sword in his hands, and before Sephiroth
could react, had stabbed him deeply in the stomach with it.
Sephiroth cried out in pain, slightly surprised to feel it so
sharply. He knew then that he was in danger. He had not been
paying attention, and now he was weakened and injured. His plan
would have to wait now...
Sephiroth retaliated, swatting the smaller Cloud aside with his
powerful arms, then limped down the tube and out of the main
chamber as the boy fell. He held one hand over the deep wound in
his stomach, his warm blood pouring over it and leaving a trail
behind him. He knew what he had to do as if by instinct. He had
to get away... get to somewhere safe... Once he recovered, he
would return for his mother. Mother, I won't leave you again...
arrgh.... I will be back!
He exited the main chamber of the reactor, still limping and
bleeding profusely. He held his sword in one bloodied hand while
gripping his wound with the other, trying desperately to continue
walking. He couldn't fail now. He wouldn't let them defeat him!
As he reached the bridge that would lead to the exit of the
reactor, Sephiroth heard pounding footsteps behind him. It had to
be Strife again... He was ready this time. As the steps drew
closer, Sephiroth spun around and jabbed his sword out toward
whomever was behind him. He noted with satisfaction that it was
indeed Cloud. He watched the long blade slip into his stomach and
pierce all the way out his back. The young man screamed, but he
did not die. He looked back at Sephiroth with defiance in his
blue eyes, even as he was lifted into the air while still impaled
by the sword.
"How---?" Sephiroth stared at him, puzzled by his
resilience. He should be dead! How is he still alive!? He could
feel Cloud fighting his ever movement, trying to pull himself
back off of the sword even as he hung in mid air, held there by
Sephiroth's sheer power. Cloud's blood spilled onto the
bridge beneath him, mixing with that of Sephiroth, and Sephiroth
tried to dig the sword more deeply into his opponent's body,
to prevent him from freeing himself. Who is this man?
The next event happened so fast that by the time Sephiroth
realized what had occurred, it was too late. Even as he hung,
impaled on Sephiroth's sword and lifted intothe air on the end of
it, Cloud Strife managed to gain the upper hand over his amazed
and insane superior. He took hold of the Masamune, still lodged
in his guts, and pulled himself to the ground. Once he had his
footing, Cloud Strife called on all all the strength he had left,
combined with his anger over the destruction of his town, and
swung the blade of the sword as hard as he could toward the edge
of the bridge.
The lifestream of the planet, from which the reactor got its
energy, flowed below, green and bubbling with power. There was no
railing on the bridge. The force of Clou'd movement caused
Sephiroth to lose his footing. He stumbled, and something like
fear gripped his heart with an icey hand. He was going to fall...
As the thought passed through his mind, Sephiroth realized it was
too late to act. He had let himself be distracted, and Cloud had
taken advantage. He felt one foot slip off of the metal bridge,
then the other. He flailed his arms to his sides, still holding
onto his sword with Cloud had escaped, desperately looking for
something to hold on to. But as always, there was no one there to
catch Sephiroth's fall.
He did not cry out as he plummetted to the life stream below,
down several stories with nothing to stop him. Crying had never
helped him. It did not good when no one was there to hear, or
when no one cared to listen. Even as he fell to a certain death,
he hung onto his rage and his anger. They were doing it again.
Again, the humans were keeping him down. He erased the last
clinging thoughts of his past and silently vowed that this would
not be the end. He would survive somehow, and he would return to
enact his plan. He was an Ancient, after all, and was destined to
rule the planet.
As Sephiroth hit the life stream with a splash, one last thought
ran through his mind before being engulfed by its power.
Mother, I am sorry.
And then there was nothing. Sephiroth's body sunk deeper and
deeper into the green, swirling liquid energy of the lifestream,
and all conscious thought was snuffed out in a blinding flash of
white.
~~The End~~
** Author's Notes: (This
is the first fan fic I've ever done, by the way =)
1. Cloud's rank. Yeah, I know you later find out in the game
that Cloud was never in SOLDIER, and was only a low-ranked guard.
I based this story on the continuity I use for my fan fics,
though, in which Cloud really WAS in SOLDIER and Zack was the
other guard.
2. Wanna link this story? Just ask at my e-mail address
below =) Please send any comments you have on this fan fic, or
any links to stories you'd like the share with me, here as well!
Thanks!
Jenesisx@aol.com