A dark figure lay in a heap on the emerald grass, the night brushing over it without effect; it writhed as if in it's last moments of life. Two shining green eyes peered up at the daunted moon and flashed closed in content as their fingers danced towards their sword.
The great Masamune swung swiftly into the cold thick air of the fall day, glancing off the mist that encircled the down. It came down quickly, the victim felt almost no pain as his lifeblood pattered across the hill and dripped down into the rocky abyss of death.
"No amount of terror can heal me," said Sephiroth, the night toning down his voice for lack of trees. He closed his eyes again and opened them to see the sun shine its rays down on his tattered face.
"Mother, mother where are you?" Sephiroth said almost in sadness as he looked back down at the ground with dark eyes. "Mother," he said louder, a sparkle could be seen by the keenest of eyes.
"What am I?" he said leaning against Masamune as it dug deeply into the soft earth. He took his pale hand and stroked the blade, caressing it lovingly as his partner in murder. "Jenova shall soon rise to meet me my Masamune." He said looking down at his victim who he left rotting in the fields.
Sephiroth walked off, his large boots scraping against the dirt and sending clouds scurrying. His sharp eyes pierced through the sunlight until he created his dark world once more, and laughed.