------------------------------------------- Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------------

To the Reader and the Lawyers:

Final Fantasy VII, and all the characters, including Aeris and Sephiroth, are property of Square Enix Co, formerly Squaresoft LLC. Tell me if my disclaimer ain't good enough.

To other Fanfic Writers (This is more important!) Plagiarism Note:

There are a lot of Aeriseph fanfics around here. I've tried my best to stay as original as possible, but it's a bit hard to write this type of story without treading on someone's toes by accident along the line. Please, if you feel that I may have 'borrowed' some of your concepts or ideas by mistake, notify me immediately. Email a "cease and desist" message to me, point out where I have gone wrong, and I will act immediately to remove or modify the offending section(s). Thank you very, very much for your understanding and tolerance.

OK, enough of this @#*%&^ already, on with the story!

--------------------------------------- End of Disclaimer: ---------------------------------------

DAWN OF TRUTH

He opened his eyes slowly, and he found that he was immersed in a sea of pure green energy. No matter where he walked, he would see nothing but the mysterious green haze. No matter where he turned his head, he could see nothing but the same green monotony everywhere. His hands and feet cut through nothingness, the green specks and sparkles evading his grasp. He tried to draw breath. His lungs screamed for air, but only vacuum filled his ailing lungs. His ears rang, crying out loud to hear something, anything but the sound of silence.

Mother, help me! Help me, help me, help me please!

But Jenova, his mother, could not hear or help him. She was dead, defeated by the villain called Strife, the weakling, the failed experiment! She had shown him the way to glory, the powers of his true heritage as a Cetra, and had exhorted him to summon the Meteor to destroy all the usurpers who had stolen the Planet from her.

Now he agonised over the horrifying turn events had taken. He had seen the girl who called herself a Cetra many times. She was beautiful indeed, looking nothing like his mother, but she had told him that the innocent – looking thing was but a wolf in sheep's clothing, another human with the gall and the artifice to put on the guise of his race. Mother had told him to terminate that imposter with extreme prejudice, and he had done so gladly. A single stab with the blade, and the pitiful whelp had died without even a whimper. How hard he had laughed when he saw that Strife weeping over that dead rotting animal, that mere cut of meat! But what had happened? That lowly pretender had succeeded beyond her wildest imagination, keeping the world forever in the thrall of the betrayers, the destroyers! Oh, how he wished he could strike her again, mar that pretty smiling face, strip the soft flesh from her brittle bones, make her suffer for the unending injustice and disgrace she had caused him and his race!

But how could it be? What had happened to her promises? Jenova had promised him eternal life as a god, as the true descendant of the Cetra, that he alone was truly invulnerable. He had sneered when Strife had come into the core of the crater seeking revenge for his lost lover. He had not resisted, thinking that the failed experiment's pitiful attempts would be for nothing. But he could not believe it when he felt himself pierced over and over again by that murderous weapon, when he saw the blood run into his eyes, flood his mouth, gush down from his nostrils. All of the abilities his mother had bestowed onto him could not protect him from being killed, from dying in abject humiliation on that fool's sword! Jenova's power had failed him! He had never been divine… he was only… a human being.

Jenova had said that he was heir to power beyond imagination. But that frail little thing, even he had struck her down, had become more powerful than he could have possibly imagined. She, of all creatures, had been able to speak to the Planet, perverting its powers to summon the bane of the Black Materia. But he had not given up even when he had seen the telltale green glow from the jewel in her hair, the silent knell that spelt doom for his plans. For a moment he had rejoiced when Meteor, the fire of righteous indignation, prevailed over the profane white magic of Holy. But then that brainless girl had called on the Planet again, using the Lifestream, the ethereal walls that now made up that selfsame prison he was stuck in, to destroy the instrument of vengeance, the means by which he would have gained power enough to transcend all existence and rule the world unopposed by those ignorant insects! How did that lowly pretender gain access to the source of ultimate power? He could not even listen to the Planet, let alone ask it for help, but she had been given the birthright of the Cetra, the inheritance that he, as the last survivor of the Ancients, was supposed to have… unless she was the Cetra… and he had been deceived?

He had seen the girl abide in the Lifestream, and he had thought that she was the one being punished! But she was already long gone, flying up into a cone of light that led to what she called 'the Promised Land', escaping the prison. That horrid smile on her face, that mask of boundless contentment and gratification filled him with fury. But Jenova had always told him that the Northern Crater was where he would gain supreme power, where he would live forever, his Promised Land! Now he was lying in the limbo of deepest space. Now he himself had been cast into the most horrible dungeon ever conceived, an eternal prison from which there would be no escape. How ironic, how unfair! He could not believe that he was dead! He should have been an all – powerful being, the last Cetra! He could not believe that this sinful, airheaded wretch had been allowed to seek eternal peace, and not him! Could it be all wrong then? Was Jenova really nothing but the "Crisis From the Sky" he had heard so many times before? Was Jenova really the monster who had destroyed the Cetra, and not humankind as he had believed all along? Was he only dreaming now?

Was Jenova really his mother?

"Then… this being called Jenova… isn't she one of the Cetra too?"

The lady blanched, her eyes widening with fear, her slender fingers trembling at the mention of Jenova's name.

"No, Professor, no… you are horribly mistaken. She is not one of us… she is what we call… "The Crisis from the Sky…"

The gentleman was silent for several moments. He turned to look at the boy, his face tinged with regret, and then he sat down heavily in the chair, his hands covering his face.

"Oh my God… what have I done?" He whispered tearfully, "Sephy…"

What was he thinking of now? His mind was saturated with denial, and no doubt his feverish psyche was desperately trying to find a way to rationalise the situation, to stay his thoughts that were flying apart even now…

This is a lie! A BLOODY LIE!

Or was it? He had heard that conversation many, many years ago, and only now did he remember it… It could not have possibly been a lie… he had witnessed it himself… and those two people were the only ones on the Planet he had always trusted implicitly. They wouldn't have lied to him. They had no reason to do so, not especially since he had only been a boy then…

Why had the kindly old man looked at him like that? What was wrong? What was wrong with him? Why did the gentleman have to die without telling him the truth?

The Professor shuddered uncontrollably, a paroxysm of pleasure taking control of his bodily movements.

"Ah… that woman would be so proud to see that her son has grown so well… heh heh… too bad she won't be around to see you now… your mother was so pretty… and she liked me so much…"

The SOLDIER trainee glared at the scientist, his green eyes hardening, the Mako in them making them appear as if they were on fire.

"Her name. Give me her name, Hojo."

"Oh… her name… Her real name, you mean… remember it well… it is Jenova… Jenova, Jenova, Jenova! Jenova! Jenova! JENOVA!!!"

The Professor frothed at the mouth, and he began to breathe quickly and heavily, moaning harshly, drowned with a sense of ecstasy that was so strong and so profound that it seemed almost sexual in nature…

The young man turned away, sniffing with disgust. It had been a pain talking to that crackpot, but at least he had a lead now, no matter how slender. He was one step closer to finding out the names of his true parents.

Jenova…

Even though he was loath to believe what Hojo had said, there was no one else who had ever said a thing about his mother, and he had grasped at anything that would give him the knowledge of his parentage, give him the identity he so craved. He had assumed that the madman was referring to Jenova as his mother, and from then on, he had thought daily about her, to the extent that it almost became an obsession. When he had read Professor Gast's notes in the Shinra Mansion, the scientist had referred to her as being a Cetra, preserved for two thousand years in a geological stratum, that the genes that had been extracted from her had been used to produce him, to give him life. He had read how humanity had ill – treated her, and from then on... he had embarked on this crusade to bring the world to justice.

But Jenova had been dead for two thousand years… and even if she had been alive, she hadn't looked pretty at all, and she would never have loved a freak like Hojo. The mad scientist had referred to her as a woman, and from what he had learned, the Cetra looked like any other human beings. He too had looked like a human at least, and when he saw Jenova's twisted, misshapen form, he had thought that the villains that had imprisoned her had turned her into one of those poor creatures he had seen in the spawning pods in the Nibel reactor. But even as he thought back to that fateful day, even as he remembered his mother's face, he became less and less certain of what he'd truly seen.

Her face was humanoid in appearance, but everything else, from her misshapen limbs, those long, suckered tentacles, her vestigial wings and her large elephantine feet were anything but human in nature. Even the Mako monsters, twisted beyond recognition by a supralethal dose of the Planet's energies, still retained some residual traces of humanity. Their appendages, formerly hands and legs, each still possessed five digits, and they had blackened claws that were definitely their fingernails and toenails. Through their shriveled, slate – grey forms, he could still see what was once a distinct skeletal structure, and their organs that still pulsed within with corrupted life. They were still human, no matter how they had been twisted by Hojo's horrific schemes. But Jenova… she had not possessed any trait that even remotely marked her as having once being a woman.

Am I really a human being then? I don't even look like her…

Had he really made such a horrible error of judgement? Had he let his burning desire to have someone to care for him, someone to guide his steps, someone to give him the happiness he had once had, the love only a mother could give, make him accept the first thing that he had seen as his real mother? If Gast was correct, the Jenova infusions had, in a sense, been used to produce part of him, but they had not been significant enough to give him real life. Despite all the genetic material from Jenova he had been given, he was still a human being. Then… who was the woman Hojo had been talking about, the woman who had given birth to him, the one whom he was supposed to search for all along… his real mother?

"Auntie, can I have someone else to play with here? I'm bored."

"Of course, Sephy… you've always been so lonely, always keeping to yourself, so we've decided that we want a little sister to keep you company. In fact, you're going to meet her very soon."

She smiled, patting her stomach gently, "And I'm sure you'll be nice to her, won't you?"

He remembered how the woman had taken him out often, buying sweets and munchies for him, answering all his questions, pointing out everything of interest to him. Whenever he told her he was hungry, she would rush to the larder and give him everything he wanted. She had been there to chase off the other boys whenever they bullied him. She had wiped his tears and assured him that he would grow to be far stronger and better than them one day. At night, she had tucked him in nicely, singing a lullaby to him, giving him a hot water bottle and a teddy bear to make him sleep peacefully.

But Jenova… she had done nothing except give him commands like a general orders his subordinates, never giving him even a word of thanks in return. And when he had failed her, when Strife had thrown him into the core of the Mako reactor, she had spoken to him scornfully, warning him never to slip up again. She had not showered him with the love that he had come to expect from a mother. He had gone on because he wanted to love his mother, and wanted to fulfill her wishes, no matter what they were. And that stranger had treated him like her own son, loving him unconditionally, giving him everything without thought of return at all…

Was Jenova really his mother? Would any mother treat her son like… another of those pitiful clones he had simply used and discarded?

Has my whole life been a lie then? Was I laughing at that puppet only to see that I myself have been living in a dream too? That someone else has been controlling me all along?

He had awakened from his dream, and he fervently wished that he hadn't. He had been living, fighting, and dying… for that 'Crisis from the Sky', the very extraterrestrial being that wanted to destroy his own Planet! But he couldn't accept the horrible truth. He wanted to hide in a corner, cower in blissful ignorance, fearing the dawn that would turn the life he had known to ashes.

She can't be my mother! It's impossible!

No…

No, no, no!

NOOOO!!!!

But no one would ever hear him wail or grind his teeth.

He was in hell.

A/N: I would think that Sephiroth might not have gone mad had he only taken the time to think about what really happened.

I am sorry, but a lot of writers depict Gast taking care of Sephy, and like it or not, it's a very useful idea for a story, as the good Professor is a link between Sephy and Aeris. Of course, you can expect the horror in his eyes when he realises that he's murdered his benefactor's daughter. I decided to use Ifalna here as a mother figure as a foil to Jenova. Sephiroth realises what true motherly love is like, and his faith in the tentacled freak (sorry Jenova fans!) is shaken.

Again, some of you may dispute the functions of the Lifestream (the game never really goes into depth about it, but I would believe that the souls of the dead would enter it (in the form of spirit energy), and get reincarnated later when new life is formed. But for Sephy's case, he isn't allowed to be reincarnated… too bad. And for the purposes of this story, Aeris doesn't remain here, of course. Which makes me wonder what happens to the soul of someone when he's used up by a Mako reactor to power a lightbulb.

Oh, and sorry for the Aeris - bashing here. I myself love her, but this is probably what Sephy would be thinking now…

BTW… I love Star Wars too. See whether you can pick out the two quotes I've placed in this chapter…

To my reviewers (THANK YOU!)

To Yokai Hansha:

You are SO COOL! Thank you! I love the "Good Deeds of Sephiroth" fanfic! He is sooo cool here! The Sephiroth redemption concept, of Aeris going with him is so sweet, I could not resist! That's one humorous way to make Sephy redeem himself. Don't worry, Cloud will not die in my fic… even though Sephy will no doubt seek revenge on him… mwahahahaha!

About Cloud killing stuff… maybe for the next chapter, can you make Cloud kneel down and pray to the Planet to let Aeris return to him, and then Sephiroth slides down, and, urm, makes him do the Masamune cha - cha?. And of course, the ever happy mutated rats (this time enhanced with JENOVA cells) can have a choice portion of what's left…=)

Thanks again!

To CJP:

Your wish is granted! I hope you enjoy this chapter! For me, I really should seriously consider joining "Aeris Anonymous"… I have an unhealthy obsession with her too. I admit that the "Rose of Midgar" salutation is not completely original, but it certainly fits her appropriately. Oh well, I guess that if you think of something, perhaps someone else will also think of it… thanks for the rave reviews!