Disclaimer: I do not own FF7 or FF8...~sob~
Author's Note: WARNING...WARNING...may contain spoilers. Also, this is chiefly a Sephiroth fic~hugs Sephy~ as I'm a MAJOR fan of his. So, don't flame me if you hate his guts. Yours truly, Travithian Axile, Author extraordinaire
Prologue: A Lost Soul in the Darkness
Symbols: Italics: Words of the Planet/ Cetras (so-and-so): Thoughts (Italics): Memories/dreams
Pain.
He looked down , the Masamune sliding lifelessly from suddenly numb and shaking hands. The Ultima Weapon had sunk right up to its hilt into his chest, its blade scraping against his ribs and spine, likely puncturing a few important organs as well. He touched the wound—his first serious wound in, what decades?—with an almost morbid fascination, watching his fingers turn scarlet.
He was abruptly on his hands and knees, coughing wetly, watching his own blood stain the ground. His silver hair clung to his eyes, obscuring his vision, as he struggled to focus, even as he knew he was dying. Not even a person enhanced like him with Jenova cells and Mako could possibly survive a clearly mortal wound. The world was fading, as was Jenova's scream of bitter rage and disappointment within his mind. He winced as his 'mother' struck him in almost petulant frustration, and his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the source of his failure—Cloud Strife.
Cloud's glowing blue eyes met darkening, jade green ones—was there almost sympathy in those sapphire, Mako eyes? The once-great ShinRa general attempted to form words, throw a bitter curse or something, but the cold steel buried deep within his guts stopped him short. Blood filled his lungs, until it was agony just breathing. He tried to hold on to life, but there was just too much pain. Sephiroth collapsed, a tragic, crumpled figure, defeated finally, at his enemy's feet, his last breath sighing emptily past his parted lips.
***
His eyes closed, only to open again after what seemed barely a few seconds later, to gaze upon a sea of angry, roiling green. If he concentrated, he could almost hear voices, blending as one single cry......
Murderer! Puppet! Jenova spawn! Killer! One-winged angel! Bringer of Death!
Hell demon!
And rising above it all, an inarticulate scream of rage, thirsting, hungry, terrible—
Sephiroth Sephiroth Sephiroth he'shereatlastwecanhaveourrevenge atlastatlastvenegeanceshallbeours—
The sea reached for him in one united desire, seeking to drown him, to rend him apart, and as they approached he could make out thousands of ghostly faces, all etched with hate, grasping hands curled into claws like birds of prey, lips whispering soundless accusations of infinite fury and contempt.
Painpainpain......for what he has given us we shall give......yes!
In death all doors opened, all secrets revealed. And Sephiroth saw, with cool, blinding clarity, the truth, like one of Hojo's scalpels, slicing him to the heart and drawing blood. He looked at his hands and saw that they were covered in the blood of thousands, many of whom had been innocents, pleading as they had died, terrible deaths, all for the sake of the whims of the president and his own amusement, as a cat taunts a mouse......
(Oh, how I've been fooled......by Shinra, by Jenova......and I thought so highly of myself. And what did I become in the end? A tool, a wonderful, glittering toy for them to play with, a trained dog at their beck and call......no matter how I swore I would never let that happen again, after Hojo, damn him, damn her......)
Sephiroth faced the enraged Cetra calmly. In this state if the afterlife he still wore his old clothes, but the Masamune, normally a reassuring weight on his back, was gone, unsurprisingly. He watched them advance dispassionately, his lack of fear arousing a certain curiosity in his heart—if he even had a heart left, between Jenova and ShinRa, he thought wryly.
(And why should I dread this? It is merely what I deserve......suffering the death of every death I have dealt a hundred times over)
The Cetra reached for him—then recoiled, as they struck against an invisible barrier. Sephiroth blinked—he certainly hadn't cast that, as though he could have done something to stop millions of Ancients all howling for his blood anyway. He started when a voice spoke, causing his bones to vibrate. It came from no particular direction, rumbling around, below, and above him. It was deep, resonant, filled with infinite wisdom borne from long years of life. It resonated with sorrow, joy, anger, dignity, and a profound, heart-wrenching love for those who were ever born upon its soil.
It was the voice of the Planet.
Hold, Ancients.
The souls of the long-dead Cetra were stunned, and together they rose in a glimmering, emerald mist, their voices clamoring in a rising plea, one word repeated constantly—revenge.
Have you forgotten then, my children, that to forgive is to be merciful? You have neglected to remember in your blind quest for vengeance how this man before you has been wronged. True, he has hurt us, hurt us badly, and it will be millennia before I can recover from the taint of Jenova and ShinRa, but it should not lessen our sorrow for what he has lost, from his very birth.
The Cetra went still, sucking in a collective breath.
"I don't need forgiveness," Sephiroth said bitterly, his voice ringing clear and echoing through the shining green. "Just give me to them......why the hell do you care so much about me now, Planet? I thought if anyone had justification to torture me it would be you, most of all."
The Cetra hissed agreeably in response, gathered like a coiled snake preparing to strike. Yes......give him to us......crush tear destroy smash!
You are just another lost soul, Sephiroth, used and discarded, like so many before you, the Planet replied gently. It is my duty to help you......all of you. And now, forgive me for the liberty I am about to take.
Sephiroth almost laughed at the irony of the last statement, but instead a groan escaped his lips as the green invaded his thoughts, prodding here and there, stirring loose old memories he'd worked hard at forgetting. A whimper escaped his lips, then turned into a near-hysterical laugh of amusement—the great Sephiroth, who'd single-handedly winning the entire Wutai campaign, whimpering over a few memories of old times?
But...these were no ordinary memories.
(Needles, cold, glinting in the white, sterile light......)
(White coats, passing in a whisper of cloth, greasy black hair......)
(Watching self-inflicted and scalpel scars healing and fading rapidly, leaving his skin clear and unmarked......)
(Black, on livid flesh—the tattoo, I......)
He moaned and clutched his aching head as every remembrance of his time under Hojo's 'supervision' flooded his thoughts with sweet, exquisite agony, becoming reality. He felt needles sliding under his skin, the Mako searing and burning sensitive nerves, heard the sobs of a little boy, alone by himself, in the cold, uncaring darkness......
"AH NOOOOOOO!"
He barely recognized that scream of anguish as his own, his mind reeling, a ten year old boy one moment and an adult the next, his lips repeating the phrase he'd whispered to himself the day he'd been accepted into the SOLDIER program—"I'll be powerful, and no one will ever be able to hurt me again. I'll.......be my own person."
(A flash of Zack, with his easy grin, the closest thing he'd ever had as a true friend......)
(Aeris, smiling sadly at him as her green eyes glazed over, the spark of vitality glowing in their depths dying forever......)
(Nibelheim, burning, burning, those god-awful screams......)
"Stop it!" he half- snarled, half-wept at the sea of watchful, the assembled Cetra. "Make your Planet stop it, for Ifrit's sake!"
The Cetra shimmered. The Planet is not ours to command. "Damn you!" Sephiroth swore, tears flooding his green eyes, as both physical and mental agony, locked away for so many years and now pouring free in an emotional torrent, lashed at his battered soul with whips of guilt, regret, and self-recrimination. "Damn you!"
(Zack, shocked, reaching out......)
(The Masamune, in his friend's chest, so much blood, all over his own hands......could there be so much blood in a human being? Spilling everywhere......Zack's eyes, staring, sorrowful......)
"Please!" he shouted, the pain finally goading him to an almost animal desperation.....a need to escape the nightmare.
A dark shadow in his thoughts rippled, spreading like black silk over the mirror of his contemplation. Kill them kill them all......
"Jenova? Mother?" he sighed.
I will grant you power, the world......my son. Together we will have it all......and no one can ever hurt you again......
And with that velvety, husky voice that had promised him all he had ever dreamed of, came the old bloodlust and madness, striking like sinuous vipers at the core of his tenuous sanity. Confused, he fought it, and the Planet fought with him. The black shard of Jenova, still nestled within a dusty corner of his mind, hissed and snarled like a cornered cat, slowly giving ground.
To him, the short but hard-fought battle took centuries, but here in this timeless plane, it was but the passing of a micro-second. The green of the cleansing Lifestream washed over it, drowning it. A heavy weight seemed to lift off Sephiroth's shoulders, and he stood up straighter. The Cetra's murmurs of approval rose and drowned out Jenova's final, defeated growls of anger.
Jenova was gone.
The weight of a million accusing eyes pressed upon him—the Cetra, calmed but still savage. Other eyes haunted his memory—blue, Mako-drenched eyes, green, brown, crimson, black, some filled with anger, some with respect, some with wild, searing hatred, and always, always the fear. Some of those were dead, their terror-stricken gazes chiseled deep into his soul as he made the final, killing blow. Crumpled forms, littering the ground, Masamune streaked red with their blood, red with the light of the reflected flames, the echoes of their dying screams resounding on in his ears long after his victims had died......
Jenova was gone. But he had yet to be forgiven.
He spoke, to the Cetra, the Planet. "I may be dead......but the Lifestream has not accepted me. Nor will it ever. It is not enough that I am......sorry." He said the last with a soft wistfulness, and his proud, craggy frame slumped a little.
The Planet cradled him close, surrounding him with its comforting warmth, crooning to him gently like a mother to her child......the mother he had never known. Lucretia, who had died shortly after his birth.
"The quality of mercy is unstrained
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Blessing all, from lowly beggar to gentle saint
And by its touch even the fallen can be forgiven."
Sephiroth was silent. The Planet continued, And thus this is my act of mercy. Perform for me a deed, and you will be redeemed. If you fail, it will be your penance to forever wander the borders of the living and dead as a restless wraith. Are you resolved?
"It's not like I have a choice, does it?" Sephiroth's lips tightened, and his turquoise eyes burned, "I'll do whatever it takes......to know peace again. What is it that I must accomplish?"
There are other words out there, Sephiroth the Planet intoned solemnly. One of them is called......Gaia. She teeters on the brink of war, but there is a darker power fueling it. Even now the Children of Fate are being drawn together to fight the evil. And this is my charge: Join them, aid them on their quest. When all is well, you shall receive your wish. I will send you there if you are truly firm in your decision.
"Of course," was his prompt reply. "That sounds rather.....vague," Sephiroth commented seriously. "How will I know them?"
You will know. The Planet's voice receded, like a wave falling back into the sea, as though it was drawing away from him. You will know......will know......will know......know......
One lone Cetra stepped out of the mass of Ancients. She was translucent and her image wavered constantly, but even so Sephiroth could see the ribbon threaded among her chestnut locks and the basket of flowers hanging gaily on her arm. Her eyes shone a tantalizing, glittering green, and her pink dress rippled in an invisible breeze. Their eyes locked, across an immeasurable distance, and her lips parted in a warm smile brimming with sincerity.
Godspeed, she whispered, and with that the flower girl turned and melted back in among the Cetra once more.
"Aeris?" Sephiroth murmured in wonder, but his surroundings were fading fast in bright, cool green light. The Cetra vanished, until all Sephiroth could see was soft, pulsing green that stretched in all directions. Exhaustion pressed heavily on him, and for the first time since he was a child, he drifted into peaceful slumber.
Author: So? Do you like it? Do you like it? ~jumps up and down~ Please review or I'll never forgive you! ~pouts~
Author's Note: WARNING...WARNING...may contain spoilers. Also, this is chiefly a Sephiroth fic~hugs Sephy~ as I'm a MAJOR fan of his. So, don't flame me if you hate his guts. Yours truly, Travithian Axile, Author extraordinaire
Prologue: A Lost Soul in the Darkness
Symbols: Italics: Words of the Planet/ Cetras (so-and-so): Thoughts (Italics): Memories/dreams
Pain.
He looked down , the Masamune sliding lifelessly from suddenly numb and shaking hands. The Ultima Weapon had sunk right up to its hilt into his chest, its blade scraping against his ribs and spine, likely puncturing a few important organs as well. He touched the wound—his first serious wound in, what decades?—with an almost morbid fascination, watching his fingers turn scarlet.
He was abruptly on his hands and knees, coughing wetly, watching his own blood stain the ground. His silver hair clung to his eyes, obscuring his vision, as he struggled to focus, even as he knew he was dying. Not even a person enhanced like him with Jenova cells and Mako could possibly survive a clearly mortal wound. The world was fading, as was Jenova's scream of bitter rage and disappointment within his mind. He winced as his 'mother' struck him in almost petulant frustration, and his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on the source of his failure—Cloud Strife.
Cloud's glowing blue eyes met darkening, jade green ones—was there almost sympathy in those sapphire, Mako eyes? The once-great ShinRa general attempted to form words, throw a bitter curse or something, but the cold steel buried deep within his guts stopped him short. Blood filled his lungs, until it was agony just breathing. He tried to hold on to life, but there was just too much pain. Sephiroth collapsed, a tragic, crumpled figure, defeated finally, at his enemy's feet, his last breath sighing emptily past his parted lips.
***
His eyes closed, only to open again after what seemed barely a few seconds later, to gaze upon a sea of angry, roiling green. If he concentrated, he could almost hear voices, blending as one single cry......
Murderer! Puppet! Jenova spawn! Killer! One-winged angel! Bringer of Death!
Hell demon!
And rising above it all, an inarticulate scream of rage, thirsting, hungry, terrible—
Sephiroth Sephiroth Sephiroth he'shereatlastwecanhaveourrevenge atlastatlastvenegeanceshallbeours—
The sea reached for him in one united desire, seeking to drown him, to rend him apart, and as they approached he could make out thousands of ghostly faces, all etched with hate, grasping hands curled into claws like birds of prey, lips whispering soundless accusations of infinite fury and contempt.
Painpainpain......for what he has given us we shall give......yes!
In death all doors opened, all secrets revealed. And Sephiroth saw, with cool, blinding clarity, the truth, like one of Hojo's scalpels, slicing him to the heart and drawing blood. He looked at his hands and saw that they were covered in the blood of thousands, many of whom had been innocents, pleading as they had died, terrible deaths, all for the sake of the whims of the president and his own amusement, as a cat taunts a mouse......
(Oh, how I've been fooled......by Shinra, by Jenova......and I thought so highly of myself. And what did I become in the end? A tool, a wonderful, glittering toy for them to play with, a trained dog at their beck and call......no matter how I swore I would never let that happen again, after Hojo, damn him, damn her......)
Sephiroth faced the enraged Cetra calmly. In this state if the afterlife he still wore his old clothes, but the Masamune, normally a reassuring weight on his back, was gone, unsurprisingly. He watched them advance dispassionately, his lack of fear arousing a certain curiosity in his heart—if he even had a heart left, between Jenova and ShinRa, he thought wryly.
(And why should I dread this? It is merely what I deserve......suffering the death of every death I have dealt a hundred times over)
The Cetra reached for him—then recoiled, as they struck against an invisible barrier. Sephiroth blinked—he certainly hadn't cast that, as though he could have done something to stop millions of Ancients all howling for his blood anyway. He started when a voice spoke, causing his bones to vibrate. It came from no particular direction, rumbling around, below, and above him. It was deep, resonant, filled with infinite wisdom borne from long years of life. It resonated with sorrow, joy, anger, dignity, and a profound, heart-wrenching love for those who were ever born upon its soil.
It was the voice of the Planet.
Hold, Ancients.
The souls of the long-dead Cetra were stunned, and together they rose in a glimmering, emerald mist, their voices clamoring in a rising plea, one word repeated constantly—revenge.
Have you forgotten then, my children, that to forgive is to be merciful? You have neglected to remember in your blind quest for vengeance how this man before you has been wronged. True, he has hurt us, hurt us badly, and it will be millennia before I can recover from the taint of Jenova and ShinRa, but it should not lessen our sorrow for what he has lost, from his very birth.
The Cetra went still, sucking in a collective breath.
"I don't need forgiveness," Sephiroth said bitterly, his voice ringing clear and echoing through the shining green. "Just give me to them......why the hell do you care so much about me now, Planet? I thought if anyone had justification to torture me it would be you, most of all."
The Cetra hissed agreeably in response, gathered like a coiled snake preparing to strike. Yes......give him to us......crush tear destroy smash!
You are just another lost soul, Sephiroth, used and discarded, like so many before you, the Planet replied gently. It is my duty to help you......all of you. And now, forgive me for the liberty I am about to take.
Sephiroth almost laughed at the irony of the last statement, but instead a groan escaped his lips as the green invaded his thoughts, prodding here and there, stirring loose old memories he'd worked hard at forgetting. A whimper escaped his lips, then turned into a near-hysterical laugh of amusement—the great Sephiroth, who'd single-handedly winning the entire Wutai campaign, whimpering over a few memories of old times?
But...these were no ordinary memories.
(Needles, cold, glinting in the white, sterile light......)
(White coats, passing in a whisper of cloth, greasy black hair......)
(Watching self-inflicted and scalpel scars healing and fading rapidly, leaving his skin clear and unmarked......)
(Black, on livid flesh—the tattoo, I......)
He moaned and clutched his aching head as every remembrance of his time under Hojo's 'supervision' flooded his thoughts with sweet, exquisite agony, becoming reality. He felt needles sliding under his skin, the Mako searing and burning sensitive nerves, heard the sobs of a little boy, alone by himself, in the cold, uncaring darkness......
"AH NOOOOOOO!"
He barely recognized that scream of anguish as his own, his mind reeling, a ten year old boy one moment and an adult the next, his lips repeating the phrase he'd whispered to himself the day he'd been accepted into the SOLDIER program—"I'll be powerful, and no one will ever be able to hurt me again. I'll.......be my own person."
(A flash of Zack, with his easy grin, the closest thing he'd ever had as a true friend......)
(Aeris, smiling sadly at him as her green eyes glazed over, the spark of vitality glowing in their depths dying forever......)
(Nibelheim, burning, burning, those god-awful screams......)
"Stop it!" he half- snarled, half-wept at the sea of watchful, the assembled Cetra. "Make your Planet stop it, for Ifrit's sake!"
The Cetra shimmered. The Planet is not ours to command. "Damn you!" Sephiroth swore, tears flooding his green eyes, as both physical and mental agony, locked away for so many years and now pouring free in an emotional torrent, lashed at his battered soul with whips of guilt, regret, and self-recrimination. "Damn you!"
(Zack, shocked, reaching out......)
(The Masamune, in his friend's chest, so much blood, all over his own hands......could there be so much blood in a human being? Spilling everywhere......Zack's eyes, staring, sorrowful......)
"Please!" he shouted, the pain finally goading him to an almost animal desperation.....a need to escape the nightmare.
A dark shadow in his thoughts rippled, spreading like black silk over the mirror of his contemplation. Kill them kill them all......
"Jenova? Mother?" he sighed.
I will grant you power, the world......my son. Together we will have it all......and no one can ever hurt you again......
And with that velvety, husky voice that had promised him all he had ever dreamed of, came the old bloodlust and madness, striking like sinuous vipers at the core of his tenuous sanity. Confused, he fought it, and the Planet fought with him. The black shard of Jenova, still nestled within a dusty corner of his mind, hissed and snarled like a cornered cat, slowly giving ground.
To him, the short but hard-fought battle took centuries, but here in this timeless plane, it was but the passing of a micro-second. The green of the cleansing Lifestream washed over it, drowning it. A heavy weight seemed to lift off Sephiroth's shoulders, and he stood up straighter. The Cetra's murmurs of approval rose and drowned out Jenova's final, defeated growls of anger.
Jenova was gone.
The weight of a million accusing eyes pressed upon him—the Cetra, calmed but still savage. Other eyes haunted his memory—blue, Mako-drenched eyes, green, brown, crimson, black, some filled with anger, some with respect, some with wild, searing hatred, and always, always the fear. Some of those were dead, their terror-stricken gazes chiseled deep into his soul as he made the final, killing blow. Crumpled forms, littering the ground, Masamune streaked red with their blood, red with the light of the reflected flames, the echoes of their dying screams resounding on in his ears long after his victims had died......
Jenova was gone. But he had yet to be forgiven.
He spoke, to the Cetra, the Planet. "I may be dead......but the Lifestream has not accepted me. Nor will it ever. It is not enough that I am......sorry." He said the last with a soft wistfulness, and his proud, craggy frame slumped a little.
The Planet cradled him close, surrounding him with its comforting warmth, crooning to him gently like a mother to her child......the mother he had never known. Lucretia, who had died shortly after his birth.
"The quality of mercy is unstrained
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Blessing all, from lowly beggar to gentle saint
And by its touch even the fallen can be forgiven."
Sephiroth was silent. The Planet continued, And thus this is my act of mercy. Perform for me a deed, and you will be redeemed. If you fail, it will be your penance to forever wander the borders of the living and dead as a restless wraith. Are you resolved?
"It's not like I have a choice, does it?" Sephiroth's lips tightened, and his turquoise eyes burned, "I'll do whatever it takes......to know peace again. What is it that I must accomplish?"
There are other words out there, Sephiroth the Planet intoned solemnly. One of them is called......Gaia. She teeters on the brink of war, but there is a darker power fueling it. Even now the Children of Fate are being drawn together to fight the evil. And this is my charge: Join them, aid them on their quest. When all is well, you shall receive your wish. I will send you there if you are truly firm in your decision.
"Of course," was his prompt reply. "That sounds rather.....vague," Sephiroth commented seriously. "How will I know them?"
You will know. The Planet's voice receded, like a wave falling back into the sea, as though it was drawing away from him. You will know......will know......will know......know......
One lone Cetra stepped out of the mass of Ancients. She was translucent and her image wavered constantly, but even so Sephiroth could see the ribbon threaded among her chestnut locks and the basket of flowers hanging gaily on her arm. Her eyes shone a tantalizing, glittering green, and her pink dress rippled in an invisible breeze. Their eyes locked, across an immeasurable distance, and her lips parted in a warm smile brimming with sincerity.
Godspeed, she whispered, and with that the flower girl turned and melted back in among the Cetra once more.
"Aeris?" Sephiroth murmured in wonder, but his surroundings were fading fast in bright, cool green light. The Cetra vanished, until all Sephiroth could see was soft, pulsing green that stretched in all directions. Exhaustion pressed heavily on him, and for the first time since he was a child, he drifted into peaceful slumber.
Author: So? Do you like it? Do you like it? ~jumps up and down~ Please review or I'll never forgive you! ~pouts~