By: SilverKnight
Prologue: The Rebirth Canal
"You need to update your language skills."
- Sephiroth
Sephiroth was bored.
The area he found himself in was an abyss of darkness in its purest form, which he was floating helplessly in the center of. The inky blanket did not merely surround him, it engulfed him. When he had first arrived, he had attempted to bring his hand to his face, only to find he could not discern so much as a meager outline as he wiggled his fingers back and forth. (He later understood that black garb was, in retrospect, not the most expressive of colors to search for in the dark.) Blankly, he had contemplated if he even had a body. There was nothing for his senses to draw upon; he couldn't feel his fingers brushing against the smooth inside of the glove, he couldn't hear the rustling of the cloth or muted squeak of the worn leather, he certainly wasn't about to attempt smelling or tasting anything in this nightmarish hellhole, and sight was quite clearly out of the question.
He soon learned, with a sardonic tilt of his lips, that the sensory deprivation did not apply to his memories. Images and sounds flickered with perfection around him, reliving his life, over and over again, unable to push them away or block them out as he had mastered so long ago. The fire of Nibelheim curling and twisting around his body, the metallic scent of copper and salt choking the air over the battlefields of Wutai, the 'sessions' that left him shrieking for mercy or death on the cold metal slabs of the Shinra laboratory, and more. So many more. It was maddening.
For the first fifty times, at least, which brought him back to his original thought. Boredom.
He had long since discarded the psychotic notion of that creature Jenova possibly holding any maternal rights over him. Reminiscing over his many meetings with his 'mother', he now mulled over why he never questioned how a hulking mass of slick, puffy tissue and leathery tentacles could have sired him; though, he shuddered at the possible answer she might have given him, had the incongruity ever come to light. A talk over the birds and the bees with her was not a conversational avenue he wished to take. Since releasing himself from the Crisis' hold, his urge to destroy the world and become a God quickly faded into a silly half-thought that was no longer worth his full attention, barring the occasion of being forced to relive the memories of his unhealthy and destructive behavior while held by it. All things concerned, it wasn't a bad deal.
He sighed, to his limited knowledge. Then again, there was the issue of spending an eternity doing absolutely nothing. Anything was better than this.
A dot of dull green glowed in the far distance. He blinked. What might have either been seconds or a century passed, the pulsing green light growing in intensity, highlighting ribbons of jade that trailed everywhere around him. He turned his head downward, silently overjoyed that he could feel his powerful tendons and muscles working, and grinned. He still had a body! He knew it! It was covered in globs of luminescent green goo, but he was willing to overlook that for the four limbs and torso that it held firmly in place. Thank god for small favors.
The ball of light ambled towards him, bobbing in the sea of emerald green that surrounded them both. He was inwardly delighted to feel his hair stretched behind him, weakly dancing to the same rhythm. Small favors. He gazed up at the light, wondering half-heartedly why he wasn't blind yet, but focused more on what the light was and why it bothered giving him a respite from the ever-lasting boredom that was to be his afterlife.
'You are Sephiroth,' a soft and motherly voice began, its voice originating from what felt like everywhere, 'the child of the Crisis.'
His immediate wonder and curiosity sapped away into annoyance. Figures that spoke in the ye olde tongues of yore, along with those who had a perchance for melodrama never ceased to prick at his ire. And this ball of light, spectacular and awe-inspiring as it may have been, was doing both. "You have me at a disadvantage," he replied, surprised that his voice was somehow carried through the jade sea around him. He found it mildly disconcerting. "I have no idea who you are."
'Oh, but you do, dear child,' it spoke soothingly. He frowned. It also had a flair for the mysterious. Great. 'I am the Planet, the the essence that gives the world life.'
A surge of anger rose from within him. The damnable Planet stood - well, floated - before him, eh? His eyes narrowed dangerously, his thin lips twisting into a snarl. "You," he spat.
The light dimmed briefly. 'Your malice is misplaced, my prodigal son,' it said softly. 'I never intended you ill harm.'
"Of course not," he seethed. "You simply sent your little Cetra errand girl and her cadre of psychotic friends to do me that 'ill harm' you never intended."
'That was...unfortunate, yes,' the Planet acquiesced. 'However, I nor Aeris had ever intended to do battle with you - merely, to restrain you from dealing me a death blow. The others were not aware of my intents, and were unable to hear me.' It brightened, and from his perspective, the light took on a weak shade of red. 'You sealed your own fate when you murdered my last messenger.'
He chuckled darkly. "You claim ignorance, is that it?" He stopped abruptly, his expression impatient. "What do you want from me?"
'I heard your pleas of penitence and forgiveness,' the light told him calmly.
He furrowed his brow. Pleas of penitence? Who was this silly little Planet being trying to fool? "I don't recall ever pleaing for anything; not for forgiveness, and most certainly not forgiveness from you."
'You need not speak for me to know that you cry out for it,' it answered sagely.
He snorted. "You're kidding me." He nearly laughed at the absurdity of it. Asking for forgiveness, and more amazingly, doing it without ever being consciously aware of it. Of course. That made perfect sense. Right. "And, merely for the sake of asking, when did I begin to plea for your forgiveness, hm?"
'You have been asking for respite for some time now, young child,' the Planet crooned. 'It was apparent you have become regretful of your deeds and wish to repay them.'
"So, I'm left to assume that 'boredom' isn't a part of your vocabulary, then," Sephiroth remarked out of the side of his mouth, wishing that he could tap his fingers upon something to better exude his growing aggrivation with the swirling ball of light in front of him. Damnable Planet. Damnable afterlife. He tugged at his arm, and was not surprised when it didn't budge. Damnable green goo. "Very well, I'll play this little game of yours. I wish to repent for my evil deeds, and am at your command. What do you wish of me, O great Planet?"
Despite its apparent lack of understanding when it came to mind-numbing boredom, it seemed the Planet was very capable of spotting scathing, mocking sarcasm when met with it. 'Do not seek to trifle with me, child of Jenova,' it boomed, its glare turning bright red. 'You have slept in your prison for long enough; you are now of use to me.'
His gaze hardened, a small, mirthless bark of laughter rumbling in his chest. "So, that is what this is about. You want to use me as your personal gofer."
'Gofer?' it questioned, annoyed.
He sighed, snapping, "You need to update your language skills." He grit his teeth. "Gofer; errand boy, puppet - and, incidentally, after having lived as one for Shinra, and another as Jenova, I will not submit to becoming one again." He smiled, antagonizing the light. "I think I'll just rot."
'You have commited grievious deeds, prodigal son,' the Planet commanded sternly. 'You will repay them in full, under my guidance and care.'
"Hmph. Make me," he challenged, wishing for nothing more than the ability to cross his arms defiantly over his chest. Floating spread eagle in an abyss of green-tinted nothingness wasn't cutting it. "Even if I were to assist you, I refuse to become yet another toy soldier for someone to parade around. I do it my way."
The light chuckled warmly. 'Very well then, my dear Sephiroth. You will leave at once.'
His head leaned forward, cocking to the side minutely in disbelief. "Excuse me? What are you talking about?"
'I suggest you close your eyes and hold your breath,' it continued unabated.
His unnatural jade green eyes widened a fraction. "What? Wait, that was not an -"
The light brightened, swirling and engulfing him in its radiance. He felt the numb restraints disintegrate, and he moved his stiff limbs into something resembling a defensive stance, his wide green eyes awaiting whatever laid beyond the wall of white.
Suddenly, before he could register what had occured, the light vanished, and his eyes were assaulted with a thick, watery substance that burned unimaginably. He began to take in a sharp breath, before realizing the very same liquid filled his nose and lungs, searing at the tissue. Fumbling and wild, he thrust his arms and legs out, pushing through the rubbery water with as much speed as he could manage. His right palm connected with a rough wall that sent tendrils of pain up the bone and sinew of his arm, and his fingers curled around the grip as he pulled himself upward.
His slime-covered hands broke the surface first, clawing for the icy floor as his arms, shoulders, and finally head followed. He threw himself onto the rock with a grotesque hack, hunched over and expelling the vile fluid from his lungs as he shook from the biting cold and the unexpected shock to his system. Raising a quaking hand and gulping for air, he ran a mako-saturated hand down his equally coated face, blinking out the syrupy gunk from his inflamed and reddened eyes.
He twisted his head over his shoulder in slow, jerky motions and glared at the lake of day-glow green lifestream that bubbled behind him. As if to mock him, one bubble burst amiably. He glowered, a particularly thick drop of the egg-like goop dropping from his chin and hitting the ground with a wet plop. "- Agreement," he growled roughly.
To be continued...