Chapter 3- A Private Little War
The mighty Cloud Strife dismounted from his motorcycle and knelt, pressing his fingers into the dirt marsh, examining the footprints of his target. Then he rose. From a distance the mercenary looked as he always had, powerful and imposing. But he could no longer stand close inspection. His hair and face showed as unhealthy sheen of exhaustion. His frame glowed with unnatural colour and his eyes saw treachery in every shadow. In the cool pre-dawn haze, He threw his patchwork red cloak around him, he boar a tight hardened look of a man who had been through the raging fires of his subconscious. Indeed he had. He always wore armour- even it was said when he slept. Producing a titanic blade, which he dragged across the earth, he listened to the wind.
Strife had left his companions for a short time. He was alone or as good as alone. Soon they would head out from the Northern Border; he trusted his own solitude and would combat Sephiroth unaided. Cloud was powerful and he had shook the world. "SEPHIROTH!!!" His voice roared and echoed across the grasslands.
Across the marsh as the sun blared out from behind the trees he saw the distinguished shadow of the fallen hero. The man, no god was as close to myth as he had ever been. He plunged his Msamune into the earth before him. Standing silently for a moment, his strong hands resting on the pommel of his blade, his black cloak billowing in the breeze that began to pick up. It was the One-Winged Angel.
Sephiroth began "Brother, you didn't ask me here to talk."
"Last night you killed.every last one. There is no Shinra left. You became your enemy when you destroyed Kalm. Paying for the services of a .you murdered her and obliterated the town in a sea of flame. The women.the children. I will avenge them all"
" I am here"
Slowly they drew their mighty blades.
"That night will haunt me for eternity" his Masamune glinted with tainted blood.
Cloud muttered "Eternity? Sephiroth, you are running on borrowed time." Strife had always believed himself immune to fear. He had fought battles and faced enemies all his adult life. Fear was for lesser men. Thus it was that he did not recognise the trembling in his stomach, or the first tugs of panic pulling at his mind. A cold breeze filtered through the trees. He wondered if his companions had survived. That was all that counted, AVALANCHE would bring a new age of prosperity to this world.
Sephiroth spoke, the voice issuing across the countryside. "Come to me and know death, Cloud!" The mercenary hefted his Buster Sword and moved forward.
With astonishing speed the dark man charged with his Masamune. He flashed up then down with sickening force, piercing Clouds torso. Smashing through sinew. Strife did not feel.disconnecting the pain. The god's fist then struck the mercenary hard, hurling him from his feet. Losing grip of his sword, Cloud skidded across the marsh on his back, his legs slipping into a small chasm. Rolling to his belly instantly, clenching his blade, halting his slide.
The Great Sephiroth, now hooded, reared up, Cloud's blood noticeable on the tip of his weapon. Strife surged upright, charging at the dark warrior. A blade like arm swept down, ripping through Clouds shoulder armour; scoring his flesh with the pain of fire. Reaching up Cloud bellowed " ULTIMA!!!"
Ripples of jaded nuclear energy overtook Sephiroth; feet ripped from the ground. Tumbling back. Retaliating, he fell into the chasm. Luck was on Strife's side. He crawled to the edge of the shallow ravine.
He was not there. Longing for the bliss of sleep; he was then vaulted and catapulted into a dense grouping of trees and thorn plush from behind. Thorns caught in the skin.
Approaching him and suddenly just before finishing his nemesis, Sephiroth was propelled backward. The impressive Highwind roared into view; blasting torpedoes. The fallen Cloud was then liberated from the marsh.
Sephiroth did not follow. They meant too little.
The mighty Cloud Strife dismounted from his motorcycle and knelt, pressing his fingers into the dirt marsh, examining the footprints of his target. Then he rose. From a distance the mercenary looked as he always had, powerful and imposing. But he could no longer stand close inspection. His hair and face showed as unhealthy sheen of exhaustion. His frame glowed with unnatural colour and his eyes saw treachery in every shadow. In the cool pre-dawn haze, He threw his patchwork red cloak around him, he boar a tight hardened look of a man who had been through the raging fires of his subconscious. Indeed he had. He always wore armour- even it was said when he slept. Producing a titanic blade, which he dragged across the earth, he listened to the wind.
Strife had left his companions for a short time. He was alone or as good as alone. Soon they would head out from the Northern Border; he trusted his own solitude and would combat Sephiroth unaided. Cloud was powerful and he had shook the world. "SEPHIROTH!!!" His voice roared and echoed across the grasslands.
Across the marsh as the sun blared out from behind the trees he saw the distinguished shadow of the fallen hero. The man, no god was as close to myth as he had ever been. He plunged his Msamune into the earth before him. Standing silently for a moment, his strong hands resting on the pommel of his blade, his black cloak billowing in the breeze that began to pick up. It was the One-Winged Angel.
Sephiroth began "Brother, you didn't ask me here to talk."
"Last night you killed.every last one. There is no Shinra left. You became your enemy when you destroyed Kalm. Paying for the services of a .you murdered her and obliterated the town in a sea of flame. The women.the children. I will avenge them all"
" I am here"
Slowly they drew their mighty blades.
"That night will haunt me for eternity" his Masamune glinted with tainted blood.
Cloud muttered "Eternity? Sephiroth, you are running on borrowed time." Strife had always believed himself immune to fear. He had fought battles and faced enemies all his adult life. Fear was for lesser men. Thus it was that he did not recognise the trembling in his stomach, or the first tugs of panic pulling at his mind. A cold breeze filtered through the trees. He wondered if his companions had survived. That was all that counted, AVALANCHE would bring a new age of prosperity to this world.
Sephiroth spoke, the voice issuing across the countryside. "Come to me and know death, Cloud!" The mercenary hefted his Buster Sword and moved forward.
With astonishing speed the dark man charged with his Masamune. He flashed up then down with sickening force, piercing Clouds torso. Smashing through sinew. Strife did not feel.disconnecting the pain. The god's fist then struck the mercenary hard, hurling him from his feet. Losing grip of his sword, Cloud skidded across the marsh on his back, his legs slipping into a small chasm. Rolling to his belly instantly, clenching his blade, halting his slide.
The Great Sephiroth, now hooded, reared up, Cloud's blood noticeable on the tip of his weapon. Strife surged upright, charging at the dark warrior. A blade like arm swept down, ripping through Clouds shoulder armour; scoring his flesh with the pain of fire. Reaching up Cloud bellowed " ULTIMA!!!"
Ripples of jaded nuclear energy overtook Sephiroth; feet ripped from the ground. Tumbling back. Retaliating, he fell into the chasm. Luck was on Strife's side. He crawled to the edge of the shallow ravine.
He was not there. Longing for the bliss of sleep; he was then vaulted and catapulted into a dense grouping of trees and thorn plush from behind. Thorns caught in the skin.
Approaching him and suddenly just before finishing his nemesis, Sephiroth was propelled backward. The impressive Highwind roared into view; blasting torpedoes. The fallen Cloud was then liberated from the marsh.
Sephiroth did not follow. They meant too little.