So cold. There was never any snow, but that didn't stop the chilling ice from forming. He was shaking. He was only a boy, though. Just a lonely boy.
"Sephiroth, open the door."
"I..." As the words came out of his mouth, the scientist slapped his frozen cheek.
"You're the only one who can open it. And make no mistake; you will open it."
The white haired boy only nodded. In contrast to the long, black ponytail of the scientist, he had short bobbed hair only reaching to his shoulders. He stepped up to the door and becoming oblivious to his surroundings.
"If you can hear me, please open this door."
....Nothing.
The scientist slapped Sephiroth so hard this time that he fell into the jagged ice. Blood trickled down his smooth face, yet he stood back up.
"Open the door with your power! No one's going to hand you anything because you ask nicely. Everytime you fail, you're one step closer to death. You hear me? You're not a failure, are you?" The scientist gave a haughty laugh as he cleaned his glasses with a piece of linen.
This time, Sephiroth, only four feet tall, punched the rocky door as hard as he could. Once again nothing had changed.
"Useless boy. We'll stand out here all day if we have to." The scientist turned around, thinking about what he was going to do. It was the most significant test to date. He had to know if Sephiroth's limits. He had to know if he had truly created a weapon of mass destruction.
I hate this... I wish this stupid door would just open... please open...make him go away...
The door began to shake as the letters of "classified" fell off one by one. As if it was being ripped from tangible plane itself, the door slowly disappeared into nothing. Inside, a creature with skin as blue as the ocean itself appeared smiling. The entire room... it was nothing. There was nothing except her.
Nothing except her.
She was his as he was hers.
"About fucking time. So, Ghast was right about the boy. Looks like you just needed a little encouragement, huh?" The weak looking scientist smirked at his creation. The perfect little soldier.
"Argh!" Sephiroth held his head in agonizing pain as he stood before the door. He felt it. He felt what it was like to be... born?
"Who are you!?"
Enraged, the professor pushed Sephiroth aside. "She cannot hear you. It's time to go, kid. You've done your service."
No. I have to go there. I want to see her. Who is she?
Sephiroth glared at the scientist with his arms at his sides. "Who is she, Hojo?"
"You insolent fool. Learn some respect!" He began to slap Sephiroth again, but this time his hand was stopped. It was bleeding.
As if Sephiroth were no longer the innocent boy he was a few moments ago, he stood glaring. "Tell me, Hojo, who is she?"
"Something a small mind like yours cannot even comprehend. If you don't stop playing these games, you're really going to regret it."
"Just... shut up." Sephiroth turned towards the door that was filled with white light. He felt drawn to it. He had to go. He had no choice.
"Who are you? I can barely hear you. A gift...?"
An extraordinarily long blade came out from the white light and into Sephiroth's hands. As the tip of his fingers began to grasp around it, he could hear her whispers more clearly.
I want you. I need you. Kill them. Slaughter them. It's ok. In the end... it's ok. In the end, you still have yourself. You love yourself... kill them.
Sephiroth turned away from the light with his gift. It was three times as big as him! Yet he had no trouble holding it. It felt as light as a feather. It was his. Only his...
The boy began walking towards Hojo with his new toy. The voice inside his head... it was always there, right? Yeah. It was always there. What now?
Show him some respect.
"I don't like you very much."
"Well, you really pissed me off, kid. I'd suggest not trying your magic tricks on members of soldier... and what is that?" He pointed at the long blade. How could he even hold it? It was huge!
"It's mine. I gave it to myself."
"It's now the property of Shinra, Inc. We have to study that... it must have come from the specimen. Yes... it must have. It makes sense, being that he is her child." Sephiroth was looking into the sky, ignoring everything that Hojo said.
"It's mine. Can we go home now?"
"Take that sword from him and put it in analysis." A soldier member, wearing a traditional blue uniform, walked up to the boy to take the blade.
"Give it to me, kid. You seem to have discovered a very important object here. We need to study it."
"No."
The soldier grabbed the hilt of the sword from Sephiroth, yet he stopped moving. He didn't even attempt to take the blade.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Hojo barked. The soldier just stood there. Seconds turned into hours as the other soldiers became tense.
A wicked grin came upon Sephiroth's face as he forcefully took the hilt of his blade back and thrusted forth the entire blade through the soldiers body.
This is the first blood. The first man you've ever killed. It feels good.
"It is mine... I'm cold." The boy shivered in his mere black cloak. It was less than sufficient in the freezing cold weather.
Hojo stood in awe and nodded. "I also think it is time to go home..." And he turned to the other soldiers. "And the blade will be taken later with more... cautious methods. I want to know what Jenova had to do with it."
"Isn't that the name of Mother?"
"If you ask one more question, you'll feel real torture. And trust me, if you think beatings hurt, you'd better stop asking."
Demand an answer. He cannot hurt you anymore. Not as long as I protect you.
"Tell me. Why are you talking about Mother?"
Hojo turned to a soldier. "Shoot him."
"But sir... isn't that a bit extreme? We don't want him dead." The soldier hesitated as Hojo ripped the gun from his hands. In an instant, he fired at Sephiroth's arm. It hit... and the boy fainted to the pain. Only a child and he had bled for so much in a single day. The blood loss was far too great for his conscious to endure.
It doesn't hurt. Your pain... it is waking you up. You and I are becoming closer. I love you. I am you. I want what you want. I am only an extension of your thoughts.
As the soldiers began to carry the boy's body down the mountain, his tiny fist was still clenched around the hilt of the blade. Clenched around the letters that spelled Masamune.