It had been growing worse for quite some time. He knew that. He hated to admit it. Hated the admission because of the increases in pain it brought and the ones he knew were still ahead. It killed, after all, and he had it. So little was known about it. There were only three consistent symptoms; the black splotchy bruises, extreme pain at contact with the wounds and its random spurts, and death.
He'd tried to keep acting as normal as he could. He didn't want to let it affect his daily functions or that of his new delivery service. With the collapse of Midgar and subsequently the world, the jobs were the only thing that kept him sane, kept him from falling into the past. He'd never been very sociable and his almost complete severing of contact with 'the gang' had not come as such a surprise; to keep them from finding out and to avoid any unpleasant questionings and drama…and partings, when the time came. Although he was sure outside of the one no one would really miss him, even with his estranged celebrity status. That was a separate problem in itself.
And just as he knew he had it and knew the full extent of everything to come, he began slipping. First it was in way of the frequency of the fits of pain. They were annoyances in the beginning but soon became disturbing in their rapid developments of being downright disabling. They would pass, eventually, but it was always so hard to get back up, to face a world that was fading all too quickly and not quickly enough. But he didn't know what to do other than continue living in the pained existence he'd been born into.
He recognized the signs, knew it for what it was the first time a fit brought him to his knees. The far most disturbing to date a tie between lying helpless at Kadaj's feet and Vincent's humiliating rescue and immediate calling of him on it. With one touch on the arm he'd so carefully hid from the world, with the uncontrollable contortion of his features, Vincent knew. But it had an up-side, of sorts. With that passage, Vincent had become a confident and he would find himself somewhat pacified until the inevitable…which was quickly approaching.
Yes, very soon, now. He could feel it, see it, smell it, and hear it as solidly as Vincent's arms under him, supporting and carrying him. Just as he'd done with Kadaj as the boy reached his end.
This is in reference to the picture serving as the background image on the FF7:AC website.