Genesis had always had a hard time fighting Sephiroth. It never seemed to matter what he did, but he found himself being knocked back and the countless small injuries he had gained over the course of the last hour were beginning to add up. There were two copies left, and their bait and switch tactics had allowed the red-clad swordsman to land a singular glancing blow that really had seemed to do nothing more than piss the former Silver General off. What made it all worse was that he could tell that Sephiroth was playing with him, picking off his copies with that mildly amused, superior smirk playing about his face.
A trio of well-placed stabs of the ridiculously long sword skewered both eyes and the chest of one of the remaining copies as he surged back to his feet, and it dropped with a hissed out sigh as feline green eyes surveyed him.
"Shoddy worksmanship. Nothing could ever beat the original. Just as you could never beat me." A measured cadence, edged with the same amusement that quirked those stupid lips upwards at the corners only fanned the flames within the red-clad swordsman who wove the Rapier through the air and snarled as he charged.
"You never change, Gen." Each thrust was batted aside with ease before the silver-haired swordsman went into an abrupt spin, lashing out with a line of force that shoved Genesis back. "Always charging ahead without thinking. You know, I hated you after the reactor. I hated you almost more than I hated that bumbling fool, Hojo."
"You have NO right to call me that!" Snapping his hand out, motes of fire manifested in the air around him before expanding and being launched in a barrage aimed for Sephiroth, who laughed and danced back, swatting them into the ground or off to the side where they exploded harmlessly against the rubble around them.
"I am the only one with the right to call you that. Your parents are dead. Angeal is dead. Who is left but me who could?" Masamune was adjusted, shifted into a two handed grip as the silver-haired swordsman set himself and then charged, blade leveled with the hilt close to one of his shoulders. The first thrust was parried, the second barely brushed aside in time and drawing another rippd hole through the Genesis' coat before the third caught him in the shoulder. Dropping down to tear the blade free, the red-clad swordsman lunged and swiped across with his Rapier, hissing as Sephiroth simply slid backwards out of the way and smirked.
"Why are you still even here? In a world that hates Shinra, that hates monsters, why would you still fight for a world that simply... Doesn't want you." The overly long katana shifted through the air, a quiet metallic hum rippling outward as for former Silver General reversed his grip and offered his other hand out. "Come with me, Gen. Lay down your sword, stop this nonsense. On the soil of a new world we will build our own culture, you could have the adoring fans that lavished praise upon you, their Hero."
"While you would be their God? Don't make me laugh." Drawing himself up to his feet, Genesis inspected his shoulder for a moment and cupped his hand over the wound, sealing it with the faint green flickers of a cure spell. He shook his head as, quietly, some of the rubble below them shifted and cascaded down, raising his voice to cover the sound. "You never understood, did you, about what being a Hero really is. They -handed- you the title. Did you think hitting me where you did before and started my degradation would make me give up?"
"You could have everything you ever wanted, instead of this pitiable lonely existence. I won't offer again, Gen. I grow tired of this charade-" Shots rang out, interrupting the silver-haired swordsman who simply turned slightly and flicked his sword up, scattering the bullets that had been aimed for him with a sigh.
"-Jen-? Really? And here I thought -I- was stuck with a terrible nick-name as a child."
Masamune flicked through the air, blocking the horizontal slash Genesis made with the Rapier while Sephiroth narrowed his eyes, largely annoyed. "So, you are the clone that has caused me so much trouble. Nothing but another puppet. I tire of this, kill Genesis and-"
"Kill my friend?" Raul smirked, the expression a mirror to the one the silver-haired swordsman had been wearing until just recently. "-Make- me."
With potions and ethers, Loz and Yazoo were in far better condition than they had been. The burly remnant could walk and the slender one was able to lift the Velvet Nightmare he had taken from his brother. Both of them were now at the reactor that Raul had been stationed at, considering it was the only one that was still in working order, each standing and doing their best to guide the flow of the tainted lifestream into the pipes below them, with varying degrees of success. Vincent and Tifa had left to help the former soldiers with Jenova, and as reluctant as they had been to be left behind they understood why it was necessary.
Everyone else was busy holding back one foe or another. They were all that was left that could maintain a reunion, and uninjured they were dealing with the pain that flared across the connection far better than they had been before. Looking at one another, they nodded before the world around them abruptly skewed, leaving them in a field of flowers.
"I've been waiting for you."
"... Kadaj...?" Yazoo turned, only to smile softly. "You-"
"We don't have much time." The third of their happy little family stepped towards them, setting a hand on each of their shoulders before smiling. "You're doing better, but you're still losing ground. Let me help you."
Loz sniffled and reached out to pull both of his brothers into a hug.
Raul could feel the slight shift through the connection as he fought the way his muscles were locking and disobeying him. So far he had managed to prevent himself from doing more than staggering a step and vaguely waving the gun in his hand towards the red-clad swordsman who traded blows with Sephiroth as if every one of them was earning him gil. The silver-haired swordsman was scowling with the effort of trying to force the clone to shoot Genesis and fend off the furious blur of red that beset him at every step and turn.
(Finally. I wondered when their third would engage. Now then.)
Sephiroth's hold loosened, snapping the black-clad swordsman's focus towards the clone who shook off the remains of his control and leveled the gun, tracking the movements of both of them and trying to place his shots in a manner that would avoid Genesis. After he nearly clipped the red-clad swordsman he frowned and looked down at the weapon in his hand.
(You already know how. Why do you hesitate?)
(He could remember the weight of it. The feel of it in his hand, the texture of the leather wrapping the grip. The way the light glinted along the edge of it, and Cloud's tired face as he offered the sheathed weapon out. I want you to think about the similarities and differences, the blond swordsman had said, Don't break it.)
Fingers curling, the clone smiled and trusted that the sword would be there. He bolted forward to join the fray, swinging with the bladed edge of the weapon Yazoo had lent him. Sparks flew as the black-clad swordsman dragged the sword along the Rapier, using the length to lock both weapons against it before grunting and looking down at the shorter katana that had embedded itself in his stomach. Genesis laughed as they disengaged, watching as Sephiroth reached down to feel at the wound and then looked back up, enraged.
"Well now, Clone-boy we might just win this yet."
As much as he hated to admit it, Genesis was slowing down. His singular remaining copy would return soon, however, and he was certain that the little shrimp that was spinning back and forth to rattle off blows against the silver-haired swordsman's blade would last the thirty seconds it took him to down an ether. If he could just close the rest of his wounds he was certain he'd be able to press harder.
"I promise you this, Puppet, that you will weep for what I will do to the WRO." The Masamune came around in a downward diagonal strike that Raul put both weapons together to slide aside, burying the point of the longer weapon into the ground and trading the headbutt he received for the boot he planted in Sephiroth's torso, kicking the silver-haired swordsman back while Genesis stepped in to sweep his Rapier across horizontally and drive the former General back further.
"Clone-boy, can you manage for a minute?" The red-clad swordsman eased back as Raul rushed into the gap created, bringing the Velvet Nightmare across so that it caught the blocking Masamune and then tried to thrust forward with his katana. Sephiroth leapt back, scowling and avoiding the strike completely even as he lightly touched down a short distance away.
"I can manage for two. I knew you were old, but I didn't expect you to be out of breath quite this early in the game...!"
"You cheeky monkey. I've been fighting him for much longer than you have!" Grinning and starting to hustle his way up one of the nearby piles of rubble, Genesis fought the urge to flinch as metal rasped against metal a few feet away and Raul grunted. The copy was just touching down, holding out both of the ethers it had recovered and as the red-clad swordsman reached for one he partially turned, catching movement through his minion's eyes.
Sephiroth was right there, sword extended and thrusting out only to bury itself halfway to the hilt in the copy beside him, staring at it in confusion before grunting as Raul hit him from behind. A black wing burst into being, sweeping the clone away, and Genesis could have laughed if he hadn't been busy chugging the energy-replenishing ether. He had -seen- movements like that before, where a certain hit would turn aside and result in a miss, and he didn't have to have a connection to the silver-haired swordsman's mind to know that somewhere in there the man that was his friend had joined the fight.
The second ether went down as quickly as the first had, and as he sealed his wounds with a quick casting of cure he watched as Raul was batted down to the ground by the flat of Muramasa and took advantage of the way Sephiroth was partially turned away from him to adjust his grip on his Rapier and bring it down in a two-handed strike. The silver-haired swordsman stepped aside, letting the blade pass him by before shifting and aiming to introduce his elbow into the red-clad swordsman's face and smirking at the resulting crunch of the now broken nose.
"You think your little friend will save you? I've already scattered him once. Maybe this time, I'll leave him together long enough to listen to you as you beg for mer-" Two shots rang out, the first drawing a hiss from the black-clad swordsman who spun back to Raul and deflected the second.
"You know, I think Yazoo's on to something. I could -really- get behind this idea of having a gun built into a sword. Or is it a sword built into a gun? No matter." A dismissive shrug rolled one of the clone's shoulders as he let a smirk curl about the corners of his mouth, playing for time as Genesis brought a hand up to his face to fix his nose as quietly as he could. "Come now, you didn't -really- think that they would listen to two distant authority figures that only used and abused them, did you? Everyone knows that the more gentle bonds of love are the ones that bind us the tightest. I stole them from you, your Charisma and Charm, your Strength and Speed, by simply showing them kindness. They're mine now."
(I will give you one opening.)
"Mere vessels for my power, and you think their loss might hurt me?" A silver brow quirked as the black-clad swordsman idly ambled down the pile of rubble, settling on the remains of the road and smirking. "All you have done, is expanded the list of those who will die painfully, slowly, cursing your name with their last breath."
"And who will do this, hmm? You and what army? Jenova is neutralized, locked down despite your incessant shrieking for her to join you and end us. You have lost the last of your puppets, and I don't quite think I've ever pitied anyone who has ever been quite so alone. Yield, and we may yet end this before the sun sets." Raul idly tapped the flat of his katana against his shoulder, watching as Genesis dropped down onto the road behind Sephiroth to flank him. Briefly, the flicker of what opening would be offered flit across his mind, and he hummed thoughtfully. "Or, you know, don't. I find myself rather enjoying the way you hiss and yowl through the lifestream for your mother."
Feline green eyes narrowed and met perfectly human emerald ones as the clone let his smirk grow. It was a good smirk, one that he had practiced and one that Genesis utterly hated. It was the smirk that Sephiroth used, and it fit naturally on his face to say without words that there wasn't a chance in hell that his opponent would do more than fail. It had the intended effect, as the black-clad swordsman snapped the overly long katana up and bolted forward, rapidly stabbing with the tip and drawing sparks against each of Raul's blades as he swatted and swiped to knock them aside. Genesis stepped up, lunging with the Rapier and blinking in surprise as it went through the black-clad swordsman, leaning back somewhat as the clone's katana exited Sephiroth's back at nearly the same time, a few inches over from his own blade.
"You... Were doomed to fail, right from the start you know." Raul's voice was soft, almost sad sounding as he tucked the barrel of the Velvet Nightmare up under the silver-haired swordsman's chin, shaking his head and smiling gently even as the former soldier 1st trembled in place, muscles locked and fighting to both move and refrain from moving. "I think Rufus said it best when he told Kadaj that for every Sephiroth, for every Jenova, there is a countering force. You will always come back, but we will always be waiting. Even if it takes an eternity."
"You-"
The sharp retort of the Yazoo's gift was accompanied by a splatter of blood as, suddenly limp, the body between Raul and Genesis slowly crumpled to the ground.
"I may have mentioned it already, but somehow you continue to surprise me with the depth of your stupidity." The red-clad swordsman braced a foot against the clone's torso, easing the Masamune out from where it had gone through the latter's torso almost to the hilt. "What did you do, throw yourself onto it?"
"The Remnant of the Past dipped the blow to the side. It avoided my lung, though the kidney is another matter entirely." Wobbling as the last of the length was pulled free, they both sat down heavily even as Genesis reached out to apply the last of his magic to the wound, stemming the flow of blood. "He... Isn't going to get back up immediately, is he?"
"No, that body is -quite- dead." And it was. The red-clad swordsman had made it a point to stab and hack away at it for a good thirty seconds before he realized that Raul had a sword through him. "As much as I'd like to sit around, we should go and help the others with Jenova."
"I don't know. I haven't heard her since that one final shriek when Sephiroth died." Fishing around in his pockets, the clone retrieved his phone and inspected it for damage. Finding it remarkably whole, he flipped it open and dialed a number without looking, laying back as he did.
"... odness, I forgot I put that there. Raul?"
"Miss Tifa, you're still alive. I find myself relieved. Any casualties? Jenova?"
"Robert and Bryce. Paul might not ever walk again, but we're working on it. Jenova shrieked and fled a few minutes ago. What about on your end?"
"Genesis, did any of your forces survive?" The clone closed his eyes, finding the ground far more comfortable than he had originally thought it would be as the former soldier 1st snickered.
"None save for the two guarding Weiss." Genesis stretched his legs out, groaning softly at the aches of too-quickly healed wounds caught up with him. "You promised, too. Don't forget."
"All copies in attendance and one God-complex Sephiroth are the only casualties here, Miss Tifa." Raul blinked open his eyes, tilting his head at the red-clad swordsman before huffing quietly as his meaning became clear. "Unless you count my resolve.
"Your resolve? What happened?"
"Nothing, I-" Curling reflexively as Genesis lobbed a rock at him, the clone scowled and clutched his side where the last strike against him burned and protested the movement. "Oof... Miss Tifa, would you do me the honour of going to joining me for supper?"
Giving him two thumbs up, the red-clad swordsman grinned tiredly at the answer his hearing picked up.
Less all over the place than the last one was, but a resolution nonetheless. I was going to wait for a review to post this chapter, but the view benchmark was high enough.
Onwards and Upwards, aye?
-KD