Chapter 2 – Judith

I was beaten. Even I am not one too proud to admit that. I was cut down, slashed and torn into something I knew I had been too good for. Even when I was that. Human.

But I had not died.

In that very fact, I was the more intelligent. I may not have proved to have been the stronger, but I would fix that soon enough. My very honor was at stake. I may have been beaten once, but I will never be beaten again. Not by puppets, clones, or Mo—Jenova.

So that was the chink in my impenetrable armor. I should have known.

But for now, I had to wait. This stasis that bordered on unlife tingled from my toes to the barest tips of my hair. Electrifying. Ironic that the Lifestream that rejected me is what nurtured me now. Slender tendrils of green purity... I could see why the weak would make a religion of it.

I could not move for a long time. In such a time when the body repairs and purifies itself, a man can do a lot of thinking. Had it been another time, or I another person, I would have cried and broken down into bitter tears of remorse...

But I, I am not that man. As long as I remained like this, as long as I knew what purpose I had been fashioned for... I would not repent. I had nothing to repent. Nothing to repent to. I would take whatever I needed from the Planet, lovely Gaia, and be off on my own. On a... mission, perhaps?

I would be the last thing the puppet would ever see. A toy that strikes its master cannot be allowed to run free when its strings are cut. And now knowing what a toy it was... I would not use it any longer.

And once Strife was dead? I still had to think on that.

I first had to be able to move my limbs. And stop the buzzing in my head. From her. Despicable creature that she was. Tried to take full control on numerous occasions... I still maintain the upper hand.

Slowly, ever so slowly, I'm cleansing myself of her. The fact that Strife and even Valentine still contain her will prove to be my advantage. I will be a free agent, superb and strong from the wash of the Planet. Funny how that was my intent in the first place.

Though, admittedly, my idea would have been far faster and strengthening. This was taking a veritable eternity. She could still try to infect me, slimy tentacles of knowledge in my waking brain.

Son, my beautiful son...

I have no parents. No kindred. Even the Cetra, inhuman as they are have been obliterated. I couldn't help but smile to myself at that thought. That was my doing, not Mot—Jenova's. I was not "mad" either, to have done such a grave sin, under Gaia's terms.

Gaia left her, weak little flower, out for me. Thought I would take the bait, no doubt, would let her talk her silly little girlish tongues at me. Make me repent, and follow her around starry eyed like Strife, Lockhart, and the other fools. That through that abomination that humans call love, I would turn away from my plan. Away from Jenova.

It was then that I realized that the planet, that Gaia, was essentially human. What a bothersome revelation.

Nothing would ever be capable of understanding me. Not if it existed on this damned planet. Funny how I didn't feel the slightest twinge of loneliness at the notion. I had already consumed something that I had once desired; taking life means taking utterly.

There was a contentment in sliding the sword through her flesh. Watching her go limp. Undeniably beautiful and fragile... forever mine because of that simple motion. I'd always meant to deliver that blow... Strife's stunt was simply a red herring.

I could take that away, insolent child...

But I made to ignore her. It had been years, that I knew I'd watched the stars, since that grand battle. And I was yet again reborn, despite not having been dead all this time. I had not felt that presence in all these days and weeks and months... it had been so strong a thing when I had first detected it. And still pulsed within the very fiber of the Lifestream...

Sephiroth. Tree of life. What a bothersome title from such a short sighted man. I am Azrael, for my divine purpose. Why deal in life, when you can possess in death?


AN: No, Sephiroth's not repentant. Nor is he going to cry at any point in this story. I warn you, if you're looking for the basic fluffy Aeriseph, turn back now.