Chapter 2: A father's realization

[ μ ] – εуλ 1980 (June)

It is a strange epiphany.

'What have I done?' For once, only a single thread of thought runs through his mind along with a suppressed sense of trepidation. Though the people in the room mill around him in a controlled frenzy, he might as well be alone with one other. His world is silent from the pressure of an unuttered premonition which bears down on the walls of his sanity. 'What have I created?' He does not register his colleagues calling out to him, nor the sight of his rival prepping the new-born. 'What have I brought into this world?' At this moment he is blind and deaf, all of his senses saturated by one presence - frozen like a chick before a grown predator. Slit-pupils pull at his mind, warping the world, turning everything he knows and believes upside-down and inside-out. For it is the father that stands paralyzed before his new-born son.

It is a strange pregnancy.

They attribute it to the treatments. Perhaps the mothers distress as well, considering the fiasco with Valentine, for what else could it be? However, in a deep recess of his mind, one he refused to acknowledge his entire adult life, he knows differently. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on the first results. It is everyone's belief that they are the ones who orchestrated this birth. That it is the mystical powers of the Cetra that led to this miraculous outcome. Jenova cells are certainly intriguing enough to explain it away, for what else could they believe? But once again that apprehension oozes through his mind as impossible green eyes study him. He knows better than anyone - how corpses of the deities are used to play power games and attempt control over the world. He does it himself, after all. But that treacherous corner in his mind chides him for his folly. It is the Gods that play with them, and the pregnancy has never been under their control.

It is a strange birth.

It is too early, yet all of the signs say it is too late. He recalls a cryptic line Lucrecia uttered two months ago. At the time he brushed it aside, as he had all of her farfetched hypotheses, his scientific mind automatically rejecting it. But it comes to him once again while he gazes upon something that shouldn't just have come from a woman's womb. She is in the room as well, sedated as a doctor fusses over her. He recalls her introspective look as she confessed her inarticulate fears to him. "If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you". In denial his mind falls back on its own knowledge but finds no comfort: New born children can only distinguish between light and dark, and can only focus on things that are 20 to 30 centimeters away. This is a fact; the eyes have not finished developing until at least four months after it's birth. Yet this one's eyes opened as soon as it was out, watching the people move, as well as the prone woman that birthed it. 'Did you know what was inside of you? Did you know things I had not dared consider?' Standing across the room from where Gast holds the baby, even as the assistants move between them, he locks eyes with his son. In this moment his rational mind is forced to acquiesce to the part it shuns. This new-born baby - is too old.

It is a strange baby.

But then that is what they want, is it not? A Cetra child, the legacy of an extinct mythical race. But he cannot help but doubt as he watches the silver-haired child. Fact: up to the age of 2, babies are only capable of delta brain waves. The equivalent of deep sleep in an adult, though it allows for an infant to observe its surroundings it is incapable of consciously engaging with anything. It is effectively in a hypnotic state. Observe, this baby does. Watching the adults tower above it, even though it should not be capable of perceiving them, let alone consider its company. Is this really a Cetra? Is this even a child? Does a healer of worlds glance upon others with disdain? Does a child look upon its father with distaste? What baby holds itself as if the world is beneath it? In that moment something inside of his mind breaks. Something that should never break in a human. Yet again his conscious mind concedes to the exiled awareness stretching experimentally from its broken, subconscious confinement. This is not a baby.

He snaps out of his stupor as an assistant taps him. "Professor Hojo? It's been about a minute since the caesarean… the assistant breaks off as wide eyes turn to her. Then his mind kick starts and he is back in his element, only stronger and more confident then ever.

"Start the preparations for the EEG. You! Bring out the equipment for the optical tests. I want it for the full range." While he rattles out orders he catches the glance Gast sends him. He is overstepping. After all, it is Gast who is the project leader and his superior.

"But professor Hojo! The equipment for those tests haven't arrived yet and isn't due from –". Exasperated he interrupts the assistant. "Improvise! We need to record the baselines as soon as possible!"

He snatches a box of electrodes from someone and speedily starts applying them on the specimen's scalp. Yes, specimen, that's what it is. A perfect specimen, for it is undoubtedly unique – the only one of its kind.

Glancing at Gast again he sees the conflict in his eyes. He does not yet believe, does not want to believe, though he understands the significance of Hojo's intervention. After all, Gast is an exceptional and experienced scientist. He returns his attention to the task at hand. 'This is why you are no longer my superior. Not even my equal.' He thinks triumphantly to himself.

…

6 hours later finds professors Gast and Hojo diligently filling out notes together. The data needing to be organized and put together for the initial draft of the report, tables and diagrams are scattered everywhere. Coffee cups strewn across the table... Gast lets out a sigh putting down his pen. His gaze turns thoughtfully to where the new-born is being fed.

"The pregnancy lasted just over 27 weeks." Hojo doesn't comment, they both know the significance of that fact. Hesitantly Gast turns to him, stumbling on his question, unsure of how to broach it. "What is the… specimens name?

Hojo's eyes drift over to a certain corner of the room where they are instantly caught by vivid green. With a shuddering breath and a trembling hand, he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Desperately trying to disassociate himself. He breaks the gaze and his eyes drift to where Lucrecia was carted away hours ago.

With a soft voice he repeats the words she whispered to him a month into her pregnancy. "His name... is Sephiroth." Turning back to his notes Hojo silently curses himself for his weakness.

Authors notes:

Comments: I thank all the people who have given me feedback on the first chapter. I've learned quite a bit about the elements that made that chapter come out so well! It is also very encouraging and hopefully you will enjoy the next chapters as well though they will be quite different.

This is a glimpse into Hojo's mind during his son's birth. I think he's an interesting character, although his role as an immoral insane villain seems to be well established in fan fiction and the games. Though he was well on his way in this fan fiction, it is Sephiroths birth that marks the point of no return for Hojo. This will likely be the only chapter that such an in depth dive into Hojo's mind is made. I'd love to hear your thought's.

The information about an infant's eye-sights came from a random site I found on the internet. For those who are unfamiliar with the measurements, 20-30 cm is about 8 to 12 inches. The information about the brain waves came from a presentation by Bruce Lipton, plus some information from Wikipedia. 27 weeks is a bit over 6 months and is very premature for a human baby. I have no idea to what extent this information is credible, I just try to make fiction more interesting. It's surprisingly educational though. The sentence "If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you" is a quote by Friedrich Nietzsche. While I wrote this chapter I had another fan fiction in mind that I read a few months back that described Hojo's thoughts during Sephiroth's birth. I have not been able to find it again. Ironically I skimmed over it when I first read it, yet it has stayed with me all this time when so much has not.

Next chapter: Sephiroth's first years in Nibelheim.