Chapter 72. December 16 (4pm – 6pm), εуλ0009

Sephiroth snarled in the face of the man he detested as much as he needed. This human, this worm, daring to challenge him once again – but this time he would pay, pay for the humiliation he'd put Sephiroth – a god! – through, defeating him when he was a pathetic nothing, a mere unenhanced grunt.

And again, after breaking free of Mother's control – thanks to that woman! – a one-on-one Cloud was doomed to relive, over and over, until Sephiroth finally emerged victorious.

Today would be that day.

He flung Cloud forward and up with absurd nonchalance, Cloud recovering in time to right himself as he landed on the roof of the building high above; Sephiroth followed to float serenely to just a step above. That indelible smirk that Cloud longed to wipe off his face. But deep inside, he knew – he couldn't meet hate with hate. That would leave him destined to fail.

He was not the same as Sephiroth. He was Cloud Strife.

He was Cloud, and he had family, friends, love, all there to lift him up when times grew tough. Cloud could feel their energy carried with him, that had taken him to victory over Bahamut, that nurtured and carried him still.

Sephiroth stood placidly contemplating the opponent before him. His Geostigma gone – thanks to that Cetra! – and Sephiroth's link along with it. No matter. There was more in their history that inescapably tied Cloud to him – that made Cloud the vehicle by which he would earn his freedom, at last.

At last, to roam the darkness of the cosmos, with this planet as his vessel…

Sephiroth raised his hand, pulling to himself the corroded thoughts of Geostigma's dead, a darkened, whispering whirlwind of chaos surrounding him.

Cloud clenched his sword, fighting the fear that rose like bile in his throat as Sephiroth's power filled the sky above. A river of filth, contaminated Lifestream, so raw and bitter he could nearly taste it on his tongue, feel it crawling in his skin. His enemy was back – he couldn't afford to back down.

He leapt, and struck.

The sun disappeared into dark, and Denzel cried out in pain, barely holding himself up as the Geostigma struck again. Cloud, where are you? But he knew.

Somehow, he knew that somewhere out there, Cloud was fighting back. And it was that thought that kept Denzel standing strong on his feet when he wanted to crumble, scream and moan.

Cloud can do it…

Marlene whimpered as the sun left the sky, replaced with a darkness that sent chills through her body and soul. She recognized it all too well. Negative Lifestream. That's what Vincent had called it, and Marlene knew he was right.

She clung in fear to Denzel, for him as much as for herself, when she felt the brightest touch, a soothing drop of water in the night; and for just a moment, she saw not just felt – and she knew.

The Flower Lady was there. She'd come to help Cloud.

Cloud and Sephiroth danced across the midnight rooftops, Masamune meeting Fusion Sword in a clash of metal and electricity, Cloud breathing hard with Sephiroth's relentless pursuit. One swipe of the long katana sent Cloud smashing into the side of a building, only a split second to recover before Sephiroth dove through the opening to follow, grinning madly as he closed in on his prey.

And still they fought on.

He'd thought Kadaj faster, stronger, possessing all of Sephiroth's strength; but no, his opponent was more powerful than he'd remembered, pressing him even harder than he had before. But he was no longer easy meat. He'd grown and learned strength of his own, and even as Sephiroth tried to wear him down, Cloud held his own.

Cloud swung, and Sephiroth shot through the roof; Cloud roared ahead to follow. A flaming ball of wreckage came tumbling down towards him, and the split second he dodged was the opening Sephiroth needed to catch up, to continue fighting once again.

A bursting beam from Cloud's blade sent Sephiroth reeling back, only to recoup, taunting the man before him. Smiling through his bladestrokes, he watched with pleasure the other's presence, his pressure. Toying with him neatly, finding the weak spots to burn. "I've thought of a wonderful present for you," he mocked. "Shall I give you despair?"

Cloud set his jaw, refusing to react, unwilling to respond. All his focus into the fight before him, one with his sword, as he met Sephiroth's a dozen times again.

The SOLDIER only smirked. "On your knees," he cackled. "I want you to beg for forgiveness."

Forgiveness…

Cloud didn't need Sephiroth to give him that. He already had it from the one that mattered most. The one that set him free. It was as if Aerith's invisible touch was already there, pushing him forward, urging him on, her soul eternally by his side.

A loyalty that would last forever.

The building above came crashing down; Cloud balanced on the blunt edge of his sword, an impromptu ledge thrust into the crumbling wreckage. Pulling it free, splitting it into his two hands, he flew through raining debris, finding his opponent in the shattering storm. Pressed harder now as the battle dragged on, Cloud willed himself to keep on fighting.

For Aerith. For Tifa.

For promises he had to live to keep.

Hitting the building's top, weakness grabbed him in its clutches, and he faltered his knees, only a moment before Sephiroth was there, there again, one stroke sending Cloud rolling over the ground, backflipping to his feet, as still the monster beside him drove on. Never beg. From deep inside, a fire ignited, and Cloud leapt to rejoin, driven hard but his opponent slowing as well, and with one enormous leap he prepared to strike the decisive blow –

- an indifferent flick, and Sephiroth neatly skewered Cloud, smiling in pleasure as the other man gasped and groaned. A strike neatly placed to miss his vitals, the better to prolong the pain. That much longer to experience the humiliation. A vivid reminder of the pain he'd felt before – the pain Sephiroth would bring to him again. Cloud struggled in the air, unable to resist, the terror in his eyes that Sephiroth would slice neatly through and make an end of him – but where was the satisfaction in that? Instead, Sephiroth flung him sharply up, with the same contempt with which Cloud had once flung him into the Mako-pooled Lifestream below.

This time, Cloud wouldn't forget.

Cloud reeled in terror as the wing burst from Sephiroth's back, right before he felt himself shooting through the air, bones cracking as he hit the roof above. Sephiroth landed beside him, arrogant, toying with his weakened conquest. Cloud fell to the ground, curling fetal, grip weakening on his sword as he felt gashes of flesh rent open, saw claret blood dripping to the ground. His gut cramped, his muscles cried out in pain, as Sephiroth flew to the blackened heavens above – and Cloud knew he was nearing his end.

"Tell me what you cherish most," uttered the haunting even tone of Sephiroth's voice. "Give me the pleasure of taking it away…"

- and Sephiroth dove a straight line from the sky, sword pointed dead below, to impale the life out of Cloud. As he'd once done to Aerith.

His life flashed before him.

Aerith, her last moments, before Sephiroth sent her to the other side of life.

Aerith reaching for him…

…he saw Tifa's smiling face, Marlene, Denzel…

…and Zack, on a truck in the middle of the wastelands, the two of them en route to meet their destiny.

Zack's end, and his beginning.

We're friends, right?

Aerith's eyes shone, in joy and rapture. "I can reach him," she said with her brightest smile. "I can reach Cloud. I can reach Marlene."

She had her absolute faith in Cloud; he was the one destined to win. Or perhaps destiny was too strong a word; more so, he was the one who would. Because Sephiroth would never have the connections Cloud did. Sephiroth, a warrior alone, while Cloud was intertwined, beholden to those he cared for. Cloud was not alone.

And it was that force she tried to send to him now.

Zack breathed, and took her in; her dress became more elaborate as every day passed (what was a day, here? Just a convenient memory to mark the pretense of time); lace and scrollwork becoming more elaborate, spreading as if it was growing; crystal flowers decorating her hair. She leaned forward towards Zack, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

"I can do it," she rejoiced. "I can help you touch. Only I don't know for how long."

"It will have to be enough," Zack replied. He was not yet able to cross the divide on his own, although Aerith assured him he was getting closer. But whatever moments Aerith could give him, he would make those count.

Cloud. The hero he'd looked to find in his mentors, achieving fruition in his protégé. A man who had carried so much respect and love for Zack that he'd emulated Zack's own personality, a homage of the highest degree. But the guilt he carried within him, the forgiveness he so desperately craved… it was time for Cloud to let it go. It was time for Zack to teach him.

"Now it's your turn to fight," Aerith finished, as she waved her hand…

Cloud's face contorted, not with fear but only pain, the pain of loving so deeply that you can never let go… the pain of love lost as he faced the instant of his end.

So what if it looks hopeless?

White dreamspace surrounding him once again. A familiar voice, as jovial as it had been in life. If it were me, I still wouldn't give up – and Cloud forced himself to his feet.

Embrace your dreams – and Cloud knew Zack was there, the man he'd wished to see for so long, back to back. Still never giving up on Cloud.

And, whatever happens, protect your honor as a SOLDIER. Well, okay, you never made SOLDIER. But it's what's in here that counts.

"Zack?" Cloud asked, half-afraid to believe it was true.

Well? You need a hand with him?

Cloud shook his head. He stood.

It's what's inside that counts…

He raised his sword.

Cloud, remember what I told you…

"I am your living legacy," he said; and it was a promise.

The world came back, and Cloud understood.

Sephiroth, plunging towards him, but this time Cloud was ready. Determination fixed his face, and in that moment, everything became clear.

"I pity you. You just don't get it at all – "

- and power filled with light suffused him, all he lived for, all he loved –

"There's not a thing I don't cherish!" he shouted – and this time, when swords met, Sephiroth's blade was the one sent flying.

Energy from everywhere, electric light, as Sephiroth's eyes grew wide. Cloud slashed, and slashed again, a flurry of strokes, for anger, for hate, for things he wanted to throw away and leave behind but would forever be a part of him.

The difference was, he knew how to not let those overtake him.

A final blow, and Sephiroth fell, a heartless angel taken down. Cloud landed on his feet, six specters of himself driving six swords into the ground around him, and finally the air grew silent. Cloud looked up, ignoring blood oozing down his cheek, caking in his hair, as with pity he considered the man – the monster – he'd defeated once again.

"Stay where you belong," he whispered to the sky above. "In my memories."

Memories are only death. He'd made his choice for life.

Sephiroth, now pale and drawn. "I will never be a memory – "

Maybe so. But memories no longer owned him.

Sephiroth wrapped himself inside his wing, and feathers gusted away – leaving inside only Kadaj, dropping to the ground before him. Beaten, broken; only a Remnant, nothing to fear.

Aerith reached out, easily this time finding what she was seeking. Beside Cloud whom she could follow like a beacon, the lesser light of a young man who wasn't, a soul that needed to be set free.

Kadaj choked, struggling upward, and Cloud raised his sword. But as Kadaj swung wildly, his blade fell and he stumbled, only for Cloud to catch him in his arms not knowing why.

Tears filled Kadaj's eyes, and he spoke the one word. "Brother…" – and despite it all, Cloud could only feel compassion, as the life began to dim Kadaj's eyes.

The rain began to fall.

Kadaj…

You don't have to hold on anymore.

"Mother?" Kadaj asked, a drop of water falling from his eye.

Everyone's waiting, if you're ready.

Kadaj raised his hand, and before Cloud's eyes, his body rose, dissolving into sparkling motes of pure Lifestream. Cloud rose, looking upward in innocent amazement, paying his last respects to a man who WAS a brother in a way, a way he might never have expected.

Brother, at last you are free… and so was he. He raised his head to the rain above, closing his eyes, relishing the feeling. Free. Was he finally, at last?

The shot tore through his back before he knew what hit him.

Straight through where Sephiroth's sword had pierced him, tearing tissues, pain. Agony. He wheeled in anger, raring and ready to fight. The other Remnants. He'd thought they were dead, but here they were, glowing full of stolen materia, Flare and Comet and Ultima all glowing dangerously as one –

- the floor dropped out beneath him as the explosion filled his ears -

Om the Shera, Tifa laughed and cheered with all her friends, rejoicing in Cloud's victory. Cloud, I knew you could do it. The faith she'd always had in him, proven before her once again.

Just a little push, that's all you needed. A little push from those he loved, and he could do anything on his own.

Those he loved…

The other one, the one who could no longer be with them, but was with them once again. You never left us, did you, Aerith? Above her, a drop of water dangled, and Tifa knew.

"Somehow, I knew that you were there," she said to the woman whom she loved too. "You were always there for him. Thank you –" and as the droplet fell, somehow she knew that she'd been heard.

Behind her, she heard Cid giving orders, directing the airship over where Cloud awaited. She could see him down below, the man she loved, once again making her bursting with pride, feeling endlessly lucky to be able to call him hers.

Tifa couldn't wait to have him home again. Back with the family – back with her in each other's arms. His touch, his smile, those little things she'd so dearly missed that made him who he was – and now they finally had a chance to move on.

The explosion deafened even through the glass, shockwaves nearly sending the airship reeling – and Tifa jumped forward, desperate to see. But all there remained of the building top was smoking ruins, concrete chunks falling into the city of Edge below.

And Tifa could only scream.

"Cloud!"

The sun and rain broke through together, and finally Marlene felt free. She looked to Denzel, better once again, and the two together stared at the brightening sky. Outside, the people of Edge danced in the rain, and Marlene could feel them heal.

The Flower Lady. Cloud. They'd done it. The only thing left was for Tifa to come home, and Denzel to be cured.

They were standing together, starting towards the setting sun, when before their eyes it happened. They gasped as the building fell to pieces in the distance – both knowing intuitively, that was where Cloud had been.

A long silence, neither wanting to voice their fears that the worst had come to pass. "He'll come back," Denzel finally said, subdued. "He said he would – "

Marlene hoped that he was right.

The phone rang, startling her out of her reverie, and as one they ran. Denzel picked it up first, but Marlene already knew. There was no voice on the other end, but as Denzel hung up the phone, and his eyes met Marlene's, she realized – for the first time, Denzel understood.

Follow the yellow flowers…

"Let's go!" he said.

"Mmm-hmm!" Marlene replied; they grabbed each other's hand, and ran.