Ceaseless Oblivion

What could I have up my sleeve I wonder? :D Ya'll are in for a hell of a ride, let me tell you.

Thank you to Optimistic-Pessimistz for favoriting the story. :D And for Tariray, Lireach, and fayriel for reviewing, I love the length of your reviews. I had no idea that this would get this many reviews in a few days…my gratitude for you guys is beyond the stars. For Tariray's comment on the repetitive lines, I do it to show Sephiroth's mania, for he truly is unstable in that chapter, and I know that someone who is under that level of psychosis would have the same thoughts, over and over. That is what I was going for, but thank you for telling me, you are the perfect balance of criticism and credit!

Since there is not much on if Cloud knew of Sephiroth's origins, I tweaked the storyline, making and taking creative liberties. However, I find them justified . Genesis and Angeal appear as a couple in here, as I promised in my authors note, for a fair warning. Also, in this story, a heart is formed in Minerva's outstretched palm, and I assure you all I did not rip off of Inuyasha there with the Naraku and Kagura heart symbolism. It was to prove a point, and nothing more. Please enjoy!

I own nothing.


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"What a chimera, then is man! What a novelty! What a monster, what a chaos, what a contradiction, what a prodigy!" Blaise Pascal

The first thing Cloud was aware of was that he was breathing. Not the intake of breath one takes while under water, and they wind up drowning, gasping for air where there is none. This was the type of inhaling where one got pure oxygen in their lungs, soothing those organs that had been so desperate and deprived. When he realized this, he inhaled, and then exhaled. Then he wondered how in the Hell he was alive.

The last thing Cloud had remembered was that he was tumbling head over heels into the abyss of the ocean, as if something were swallowing him whole, a vicious demon that wished to devour him, bones and all. And there was a massive wound in his chest, and his heart had been injured beyond medical repair. If that was true and factual, then how was he alive?

Cloud blinked his eyes open, and he was met with the view of a black Heaven. Where was he? The man shot up, suddenly terrified and on guard. Had he lost a world to gain a Hell? He reached for his Buster Sword, and then he remembered that Sephiroth had pitched it into the ocean, leaving him utterly defenseless. Of course. Even in afterlife Sephiroth lived to fuck up his existence. That caused a scowl to cross his features, but his anger lessened when he saw that he was completely nude. This made him close his legs and cover his arms over his chest. Cloud He never much liked the sensation of being so open to the world, vulnerable without clothing. And now that he was in that situation, he had no clue what to do. While his hand was on his torso, he fingered over where he should have been bleeding. There was nothing there, as if he had never been pierced with masamune. This was so bizarre. Cloud looked upwards, and if he had thought that this couldn't get any stranger, he was wrong.

All around him there was nothing. He was sitting in something damp and cool, wet grass almost. Cloud looked around him and saw that he could see at least thirty steps in front of him with his eyes, and then after that, there might not have been anything. For all he knew, if he crossed the expanse of those thirty paces, he may have fallen off the face of the Planet. Cloud decided to simply stay put for now, and if anything attacked, he would fight them off with his bare hands, though he hated the thought. He hated being so wide open.

Also, the sky was pitch black, as if the wings of the midnight hour spread across horizon to horizon, the way the night did. But this was a darker night than Cloud had ever seen in his life. His eyes saw many lights displaying themselves across that inky firmament, hues that appeared as if they were the gore of an aurora, a rainbow that had been shredded and ripped apart merely to create those lovely shades. As if the colors had a mind of their own, they swirled down to where Cloud was, and he was reminded of the Lifestream. Was this where he was? That thought was too good to be truth, for the last time he had nearly died, he had heard Zack and Aeris's voice, telling him that he didn't have a place there yet. Had he a place there now?

Cloud stood up and looked around, wondering where he was for the tenth time. How was it that someone could simply live in one world and then appear in another? Time travel was not possible, nor was world leaping, jumping to other realms. There was Gaia, and who knew what else beyond that, and of course, the afterlife, a place he knew Aeris lived and dwelled in, along with Zack and his mother. He was dead, so he would move on. It was as simple as that…wasn't it? He suffered through the knowledge that he was a speck in the grand scheme of things, a type of insignificance that one feels when gazing at the stars. They were infinite. But man was not.

Sapphire oculars focused on the lights that spiraled around him, and he wondered if they were speaking to him. Could lights coo at someone? If he had managed to see what he had in his time, then anything was possible. Even the thought of time travel, if that is what happened. He looked at the colors as they twisted around his neck and arms, and he implored them with his eyes to tell him what he should do, where he was, to simply answer his questions.

They remained silent. Cloud sighed and lowered his head to the ground, the sensation of the fires of the lights on his skin doing little to improve his confusion. For all he knew, he was in limbo simply because he had failed to kill Sephiroth. That must have been it! Here he was, hanging suspended in some hereafter simply because he had been too weak to defeat him. His punishment was to stay here because of that inability to kill off his enemy, one last time.

"Is that why I'm…here?" Cloud then heard a sound that magnified in his ears, the noise of footsteps. It was a light and sure foot, the person or animal walking with purpose. And they were walking right towards him.

The man crouched low to the ground, ready to attack if whatever it was meant him harm. His hands balled into fists, and he tried to remember his lessons. Right foot, kick, instep…

What he saw then made his jaw go slack, and his concentration waned.

Before him stood one of the most mystical creatures he had ever laid eyes on. It was a woman covered head to toe in armor, gold's and metal melding into her body shield, forming her thin and curvaceous form beautifully. In her left hand she held a shield of similar fashion to her outfit, one that was almost as big as she was, and despite how heavy it looked, her face conveyed no strain. Her hair was handspun gold, dripping from her head and face like an aureate waterfall, every fiber gilded, looking very much like a meticulous piece of chain mail. She looked at him, and he saw that her eyes were gunmetal gray, ones that had drips of cobalt in them. What a woman! But the only question was, how was she here?

"W-what?" Cloud held his place, but recalled that he was nude in front of a woman, a first aside from his mother. Never had a female laid eyes on him in his entirety. The woman smiled, and the act made it appear as if sunshine were behind her face, lighting her up from the inside out. Was she a star, a celestial entity? A Goddess? She nodded, and walked towards him.

"Yes, distressed one, I am Goddess Minerva of the Lifestream and many other realms. You have questions?" Cloud felt as if he should either bow, drop his defensive position, or stare blankly at her. Instead, he simply stammered.

"How…how am I…you…" Minerva chuckled, and the sound was as if she were hitting the inner workings of a pipe organ together, a guttural yet lovely sound to the ear. Then she became serious.

"Cloud, are you familiar with the term hatred?" Cloud dropped his fighting position, suddenly spent. This day could not get any stranger. First he had been killed by Sephiroth, hurled in an ocean by black waves, felt the tickle of lights on his skin…and now a Goddess was asking him to be a walking dictionary. He took a deep breath and looked up at her.

"Sure." Minerva nodded her head and held out her right hand, the one that was not clutching the shield. In her outstretched palm, an image flickered, a mirage in the open air. The vision suddenly became tangible, and in her hand, a human heart pulsated. Cloud gazed in revulsion as it began to beat, echoing in his ears like the dull thud that he had memorized all of his life.

"Hatred: violent hostility or animosity. The feeling of one who hates. Intense dislike." She looked into Cloud's eyes, and he felt himself trapped there, as if she were a powerful Queen who held him in rapture, in silent and eternal obedience. "This is what happens to a heart when it hates." The once healthy red organ began to beat frantically, sounding like a maniacal drummer who wished with his swings, to destroy the fabric of the universe with the awful noise. Cloud watched in the fascination that comes with watching horror play out as the heart began to develop hideous welts all over it. They oozed a black pus, and it was now a diseased organ, a cancerous abomination. He felt his mouth open and his brow furrowed as he watched it shrivel up, withering the way tulip petals did during a drought. What was this?

"What…" He watched then as the heart beat once more, twice, and then a third time to such an extent that it exploded. Cloud started and saw ash where a healthy heart used to be, merely a memory of what it had been before. Symbolism? Metaphor? What was this, a life lesson?

Minerva looked to her hand and tilted it, black and gray ash falling to the grass beneath them. Cloud wrinkled his nose when he smelt decay in the air, and he knew that it was from the heart that she had conjured up, out of nothing.

"Could you believe that the same thing happened to your heart, Cloud Strife?" Cloud looked at her inquisitively, wondering what she was talking about. He had only ever hated Sephiroth in his entire life, hating what he had done to himself and to the world. Was it not natural to loathe someone who had destroyed everything? Minerva locked her gaze to his, and for the moment, nothing else existed but her own eyes. They swirled into lovely pools of turquoise, and then the gray of winter skies on a cold night.

"Precisely. Cloud Strife, your heart was once something so promising, and it had the potential to love and care for all of those around you. You cherish so much…and yet you are blind by narrow-mindedness." The man felt his eyes open wide in the accusation. He felt as if he were standing in front of an unforgiving jury and a lawyer was telling him all of his life's crimes, every single pair of eyes in the room judging him, dissecting him for faults and his weaknesses.

"What do you mean? Goddess…I believe you are who you say you are. But…bigotry? I don't…understand." Minerva let him talk, and then took in a deep breath, preparing to speak again.

"Sephiroth. What does that name make you want to do?" Cloud felt anger roll in his chest, as if were the waves of an ocean made of behemoths and monstrous fish, a rage that fueled the actions of men to do wild and stupid things. It was the feeling of the lividness that made men think they were invincible.

"I wish to kill him. You have seen what he has done! He gave Geostigma to the world, poisoned children and countless others. He killed everyone in Nibelheim but me and Tifa. My mother…her father…so much blood is on his hands! Should the evil not be punished if someone has the ability?" Cloud's voice rose in its octave, and near the end of his rant, he was screaming. He rarely raised his voice. Minerva waited for him to calm down, then continued.

"I see. Have you ever thought of why he is the way that he is, distressed one?" Cloud looked to her, wondering with his eyes why she gave him such a title. She nodded, answering his question.

"Names are all chosen for a reason. You are Cloud Strife. Cloud's are transparent and they change with the days, clear or tumultuous. Strife means utmost distress and affliction. You are a walking tempest." Cloud felt as if he were being picked a part again, instigated to the highest degree of his being.

"But…my mother chose my name." Minerva shook her head.

"In a sense, yes. But there is no saying that my influence does not touch all things. I control names, memories, and other happenings. Every name is important. Such is the same with Sephiroth. Do you know what that means?" Cloud felt an anger sweep over him once again.

"No. I don't care what it means. He had so much to answer for. As far as I am concerned, he is dead to me." Though, a voice told Cloud, unless he saw him disappear like the second time he died, there was no proving that he was not somehow in existence.

"The name means the manifestations of God, or of gods that allowed him to exist in the Lifestream and on the Planet at once in his many forms. Or, an angel with one wing on one side. A paradox, is it not? An angel and a seeming god. He is a fallen angel in theory." Cloud wondered what person would be sick enough to choose such a name for their child. He looked to Minerva, wondering what she was getting at.

"Cloud, the hatred you had and still have for Sephiroth destroyed your heart, just as I showed you. Physically, you both wounded the others heart, for his heart was destroyed by hatred as well. You both in that sense are the same." How could he be compared to that menace? How was that even possible? "And back to your bigotry…once more, have you ever considered why Sephiroth wished to destroy the Planet and did the things he did?" Of course he had! Sephiroth had been his idol when he was younger, and when he had seen the wreckage of Nibelhiem and had heard of the unspeakable horrors caused by his own doing…Cloud wondered how anyone could be so evil. He wondered why Sephiroth did what he had done constantly, though he was not naïve enough to think he could change that about him. Demons chose their paths, and Sephiroth had crossed a line, and those steps could not be undone. Cloud nodded, and he felt as if this were his final judgment, his answers determining whether or not he could cross the threshold of the afterlife.

"Of course. Of course I wondered…but evil is evil." Minerva sighed aloud, and the sound was the noise of wind chimes rattling against the other in a breeze.

"What a way of looking at the world, distressed one. Colors are only black and white, are they not? Sephiroth walks in the path of the dark, and you the light. That is the purpose of goodness: to scare the shadows away. Formidable. However, your reasoning comes from not trying hard enough to understand why Sephiroth is himself. Would you care to know why?" Cloud could not believe his ears! Was the Goddess, the one who ruled the afterlife itself…defending such an abomination? How could higher gods defend monsters?

"Not really." Minerva shook her head.

"You have no choice." In one single instant, Cloud was thrown sky ward by some unseen force and he floated in the air, suspended. His wrists hung up by his head and he struggled, for he was completely nude, and exposed to her. Was this some sort of mock crucifying? Minerva walked over to him, and looked up to where he was held in the air.

"Watch." An orb of white light appeared before Cloud and he saw that in the middle, there was a translucent inside, and it acted as a type of screen, a mirror almost. He had no wish to see the devil's origins!

Images flitted across the screen, and he watched as a beautiful young woman in a white lab coat kissed an unattractive man…Cloud's eyes shot open in realization. Professor Hojo? This was insanity! He was the man who was obsessed with the Jenova Project he knew. But who was the woman? The blonde haired male heard voices, and he strained his ears to hear, his curiosity piqued.

"In the name of science Lucrecia, will you do it?" The woman nodded and rubbed her stomach, her hand lingering on her abdomen.

"Yes. Yes I will." The man and woman were in what appeared to be a doctor's office, and there was a bed there, with many forms of complicated machinery. Professor Hojo nodded and gestured for the woman to lay on the bed. She stepped out of her shoes, took off her lab coat, and Cloud saw a slight bulge to her stomach, one that let him know she was with child. She stretched out on the bed and pulled her lavender blouse up, exposing her stomach.

Hojo turned around and placed something in a syringe, tapping it twice and then rubbed the woman's stomach with a cleaning wipe. He stuck the needle in the lower part of her belly, injected a clear fluid that blazed green in the light, and Lucrecia dozed off. Hojo was left leering above her sleeping features.

The projection changed and Cloud saw the same woman a few months later tossing in her bed, the sheets thrown askew. She was panting in her sleep, moaning in a nightmare that Cloud was allowed to witness. The mirror of the screen was split in two, and he discerned that the right half was Lucrecia, and the left half was her terror. It was Sephiroth. He was trashing Nibelheim, slaughtering everyone who was in his way, innocent civilians who had once labeled him a hero.

"No…my son." She sat up and panted, and Cloud saw that the woman's face was beaded with perspiration. Lucrecia gripped her swollen stomach, and he heard the sounds of her sobs. "Oh…what have we done?" Cloud felt his jaw drop open, and as he was about to say something to Minerva, the scene ended. She must not have wanted him to be asking stupid questions this early on.

Once more the image changed, and Cloud witnessed the child birth. Lucrecia was screaming and there were doctors all around her, telling her to push, telling her to be strong. She wailed, and Cloud saw how hard it was for her to get her child out. Her hands gripped the sides of the hospital bed, and her knuckles were white as she groaned long and hard, one last time. A newborn's cry was heard and the doctor's all around her surrounded her legs. One doctor cleaned the child and Lucrecia smiled, panting.

"May I hold him?" Despite her obvious fatigue, Lucrecia held out her arms, waiting to feel her child in her arms. The three doctors who were there, white surgical masks hiding their features all shook their heads. The one holding her child left the room, and the other two stayed with her, one doctor sticking a needle in her veins, causing her to pass out. Before she could protest of course.

Shortly after, Lucrecia woke up and Cloud saw her wandering the hospital, looking for her son. She was in her hospital gown, and she appeared strong enough to walk, even after such a traumatic ordeal. The woman was walking, and looking for her son, and her fingers splayed across her pale forehead, as if she were experiencing visions of her child. Cloud would have thought that there would have been a lock on her door, something keeping her from wandering about like she was. But he realized that in the name of science, she had just been a vessel to carry a child to term, and nothing more. She was useless to them now, thus they left her alone.

"My Sephiroth, where are you?" She looked and wandered around the building for days it seemed, until finally, she collapsed in a corner, writhing in pain. Her hands clutched her head, and she was screaming aloud, but no one seemed to care. There was no one around who could help her, and Cloud had the suspicion that even if she asked for help, that she would not receive it. She had been a tool as well.

The next clip showed her in a crystal, her hands folded across her chest, a look of melancholy etched upon her features. Vincent's past love…

Cloud watched with eager anticipation as the screen changed. He saw a younger Sephiroth being experimented on, and Cloud felt ill at the sight of so much blood. Hojo himself was opening up his son, looking at his innards and viscera, though he was no more than two. The child had shoulder length silver hair, and his breath came out in puffs against an oxygen mask.

Then, there was a five year old Sephiroth, playing with what appeared to be building blocks. His mako eyes were glazed over in misery and concentration as he played with the squares of wood, and Cloud saw that there were pictures on them, ones that were of the human anatomy. It was a puzzle that showed the most detailed parts of the human body. He was a five year old, learning human composition.

"Again." The voice came from Hojo, and Sephiroth nodded, so freakishly obedient for only being five years old. He messed up the blocks on the carpeted floor of the room, and he worked with them with the speed of a child prodigy. That was what Hojo was hoping for after all: a genius, perfection itself. Cloud felt sick.

The screen changed again and it showed a thirteen year old Sephiroth training against men twice his size, men with bulging muscles and a viciousness in their persona's that made Cloud flinch. What thirteen year old could incapacitate them? Still, Sephiroth managed it with a wooden pole, and he beat them all down within two minutes, for there was a large digital clock that was hanging on one of the walls of the training dojo, and it counted the seconds down aloud. What a world to live in, where time was counted down by an unfeeling, mechanical voice. Sephiroth panted and the doors opened, revealing four more men he had to defeat. He squared his shoulders, and ran to them, charging at full force.

Then there was an older Sephrioth, maybe sixteen years old, and he was signing up for SOLDIER. He passed every single training exercise without breaking a sweat, and the people who hired him, the General's, whispered behind a door, wondering where such a talented young man had come from. From oblivion they said, from nowhere. But they would make him theirs, and use him for his talent. Sephiroth was outside, waiting, his mako eyes looking up to the sky in slight interest. It was as if he were pondering his fate right then, and Cloud had never seen this side of the cold and calculated General, one that was almost…unsure of himself.

Cloud saw him lead all of his troops to victory once he climbed his way up to the top and became a General. He saw him fight Genesis and Angeal, two ex-SOLDIER'S in one of their training rooms where simulated battlefields were shown. Then, he saw him smile to Zack Fair, briefly, as he told him that they would "meet again." That's right…they had been comrades in arms.

Then came some of the more violent and spotty parts of his past. He was headed towards Nibelheim to check out the Mako Reactors with Zack when he had uncovered some writings about the Jenova Project. Cloud saw him pace in the mansion, surrounded by stacks of books and paper, reading the words aloud. He proclaimed that since Jenova "made him" that he was her son, the chosen one left to destroy this world. And every human was beneath him then.

There was also a scene where Zack and him saw people who were made into hideous monsters by the mako and Jenova cells. There was also a strange female specimen in one of those chambers, and Zack made the connection between SOLDIER and the abominations. It was then that something in Sephiroth snapped, and Cloud swore he could hear the sound of a cord stretching and fraying at the ends, breaking, just like this mans sanity.

Hell ensued. Cloud saw his neighbors and their children running from the blaze, running from the man who had once been their savior now turned avenging angel. There was a calm look of glee on the man's face as he sliced children down. Cloud screamed at the screen until he was certain his voice would be raw from the effort, and to his humiliation, he felt tears run from his face. The difference between memories and showing someone what occurred were two different things. Screaming was futile, for it was one of those irreparable happenings of the past.

"Why are you showing me this?" Minerva looked up at him, and shook her head.

"Keep watching." Cloud felt his head jerk up involuntarily and he felt as if he had no choice but to keep his eyes open. He tried closing them, but to no avail. He saw Genesis in a slow degradation form, telling Sephiroth that the Jenova Project was meant to create a perfect monster, an ideal monstrosity. And he was the walking and living creation that ShinRa made him to be. Cloud saw Sephiroth's face light up with a rage he was familiar to, and as Genesis left, he took off running, obviously to wreak Hell.

This made Cloud frown. He wondered what he would have done in that situation. If someone called him a monster, something that was created for no other purpose than to be "ideal" and "perfect" he would be angered as well. But there was something in him that would resent killing and harming another living creature. Though, he supposed if he had the proof that Sephiroth found, the ones that said he was made from Jenova, it would explain why he was always so different. Everything seemed to match, but it just didn't. That was what he would have done differently: he would have searched for the truth until he found it, not jumping to conclusions. Though, Sephiroth was not known for his patience.

Cloud connected the pieces, paid attention to that which he didn't wish to see: Jenova was placed into a Sephiroth that was still a developing fetus! Lucrecia and Hojo were his parents! That was the misunderstanding! Though, no matter how small the miscommunication, the results could be dire. He knew that, and was the living of such an effect.

The white orb flickered and turned orange around the edges, and Cloud wondered what he would be subjected to seeing next. "Cloud, what you are going to see is what I am doing to Sephiroth now. I am showing you what you have, that he is no by product of Jenova. And, he is also enduring punishment." Minerva's eyes flashed with the wisdom that those who dealt with justice for a living had in their oculars. "You wished for his penance? That is my duty." She gestured to the screen, and Cloud nodded, looking to it again.

He tried to ignore the pain of pity in his chest, one that was for Sephiroth. He killed the idea off with thinking that no matter how he felt, Sephiroth would always be his enemy.


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The only words that Sephiroth's mind could forge at the moment were that the tables had turned. In reality, he had killed Nibelheim all for two survivors, Cloud and his female friend, Tifa something. But now, in this Hellish fancy, the villagers were killing him.

Every single man, woman and child attacked him right then. At first, they dragged him out in the middle of the village, the town square. They kicked his ribs until he felt blood coat his lips and he felt the ache of bone splitting through his flesh. Children scratched at his face until he felt many gashes coat his visage, their fingernails coming away bloody.

The women tied his arms and legs up and they spread his limbs apart, binding him to posts from wagons. They impaled his arms and legs with wooden stakes, yelling at him until their voices should have gave out. But these people were vengeful spirits, and Sephiroth had been taken here out of his own actions. This was the Goddess's doing he knew, and he would find a way to kill her sooner or later. He tried to ignore the pain, but it was monstrously difficult, especially when they kept impaling his pressure points.

"How dare you come here and kill us?" A man with a simple brown outfit, rage in his eyes, showing that he had been the result of unjustness. He stabbed Sephiroth's stomach through with a mace, and the silver haired man had the hardest time not reacting.

"We were innocent!" A young girl kicked him in the head, and Sephiroth swore he felt his brain rattle in his skull. His eyes began to bloom over in black dots, but he forced himself awake. Passing out was weakness.

"I had a child!" A mother enraged. She slapped him across the face until Sephiroth felt his eyes roll back into his head. Abuse of the highest form. If the Goddess thought he would break with this simple "reality" then she had another thing coming. He would never admit defeat.

"I was a father!" A younger man grabbed a whip and lashed it across his legs and arms, one that was leather. It stung every time he took it off, but the anticipation was much greater. Still, Sephiroth gritted his teeth against crying out. He had screamed in the beginning, and that had been bad enough.

"I was eight months pregnant! How could you be so evil?" A woman heavy with child gripped his shoulders, and shook his head back and forth, as if she were trying to knock some sense into him. She would have to try much harder.

On and on their voices reached, a sound loud enough to shatter anyone's eardrums. But Sephiroth merely endured it. Pain was in the mind, and since he was in full control of his own, there was no point in giving these filthy human's a reaction.

Then a blaze lit up the village, and every single creature ran from his side and escaped out through the mountain path, watching as smoke hazed around their homes, forming a circle of heat around their precious houses. Ah, so they thought they could just watch him burn? Sephiroth struggled against his bonds, but found that they were tied so securely with rope, that he would need more time to loosen the knots. He tried to summon his wing, but where there had once been a glorious instrument of flight, there was now only an empty shoulder blade. There was nothing there!

He could surely use his cells and get out of there with his abilities! Sephiroth concentrated with an eerie calm that was asinine for the circumstance. After a full minute, he still felt connected to the wagons. What was going on?

"Mother, show these pitiful humans how strong you are!" He waited, for his mother had never failed him before. She would appear in a glow of silver light, release him, and together they would kill everyone yet again, Goddess included. Sephiroth waited in eager anticipation, and after a full few minutes, he came to the horror that she was not coming for him. Impossible! Mother had never failed him before!

A large piece of roof caved in and sent a whole house collapsing, and Sephiroth felt the sting of the flames lap at his head, singing his scalp and forehead. The flames were not the only pain he endured, for he was suffering through something far worse. The agony of one who was forsaken.

Unable to take it anymore, he began screaming. He howled into the night as his body burnt, and no sensation was spared from him. No endless torment was he saved from. This was what Hell must have felt like, knowing you had not a person to care for you, and were betrayed in your hour of need.


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Cloud was allowed to sit on the grass and watch the sights, and he felt his eyes grow wide. Then he lowered his eyelids, and allowed himself an interested look on his face, for he didn't wish to appear too appalled by this punishment. This was what he wanted for the man to endure, was it not? So why was he suddenly changing his word?

Minerva was behind him, and together they watched as Sephiroth endured his own past.

"Cloud, this next memory may surprise you." He highly doubted that. If he had seen sinew and bone peel away until the body was nothing more than a charred pile of ashes, then nothing more could surprise him. Still, he continued to watch, resigning himself to this fate for now. He would ask about his afterlife later.


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Sephiroth bolted upright and gasped, clutching his throat, head and body. He was reborn yet again. What would he be subjected to now? He looked around and noticed that he was in an area surrounded by trees…Banora Village. What the Hell? This looked eerily familiar, a piece of his memory before he had been sent to capture Genesis. A time where he was true friends with both men. What a long time it had been.

He recalled what day this was, and what he would have to witness. It coated his mouth with a bitter taste, a gall that nearly made him gag. Such was the taste of envy. Sephiroth positioned himself to where his back rested against the trees, and he watched as one of the most sickening memories he had ever lived through played out.

Genesis was sitting in the grass, his knees propped up to where his beloved copy of LOVELESS could rest on his thighs. Angeal was laying opposite him, watching the clouds. Sephiroth felt that twinge of jealousy begin to erupt, an old emotion. It had been stronger that day of course.

"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end
The goddess descends from the sky
Wings of light and dark spread afar
She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting." The prologue of LOVELESS, a play that Genesis was absolutely in rapture about. Sephiroth understood the play perfectly, but he didn't get why the man was so hooked on that one play. There were many great works to be read, and yet he stayed with that one. It was ludicrous.

Genesis read it aloud to Angeal as the man looked to the skies, watching the clouds roll on by. Sephiroth knew that they were on duty to protect the city, for Lazzard had a feeling that something was going to happen soon in their hometown. He was supposed to be telling them that it was his turn to guard, but something had stopped him from interupting them. So, he took a seat beneath some trees, unnoticed by either of the men. That was the good part about being special: one never recognized when one was eavedropping.

"Genesis, how many times are you going to read that?" Genesis lowered his glasses, and he perked an eyebrow at Angeal, dramatically swooning.

"Angeal, you know why I love this play so much." The copper haired man stated it so matter of factly, that no one would have thought to argue with him. Though, Sephiroth knew that these two shared a brotherly bond, for both had grown up together. Of course Angeal would know his mannerisms, and his attributes.

Angeal sat up and shook his head. "Not really. You read that play over and over again…why? Sephiroth claims there are many more books to be read, many more things that are as if not more interesting than this silly thing." He reached and grabbed the book from Genesis's gloved hands. Sephiroth held his breath, for this is when the atmosphere changed between the two. This was what had let him know that the two could never be brothers.

Genesis placed his glasses in his coat pocket and then tackled Angeal, trying to pry his book from the bigger mans hand.

"Come now, Angeal, you know why!" He tussled with the man, and there was something deliberate in their movements, something that alerted Sephiroth to the fact that the two were more than just friends. They appeared as if they didn't wish to not touch the other, accidentally brushing the others face or leg, a distinguishable flush crossing their features when that happened.

"Their in love." He whispered those words again, for he recalled saying the same thing all of those years ago, just in a more shocked fashion. Now it was just something that had happened. Mako eyes watched as Angeal pinned Genesis to the grass, his muscle and bulk blocking any means of escape for the slighter man. Genesis struggled and beat upon his "friends" arm playfully, but Sephiroth saw the flirtatious look in the mans eyes he did the act.

"No, I don't. Tell me." Angeal held the man to the ground using one hand, and raised the book in the air, to keep it a tantalizing distance away from the man. Genesis tried to reach it, but he had no progress. Sephiroth smirked. He wanted no progress, he just wanted to be touched by Angeal.

"B-because you gave it to me! It was your present! I…cherish it." Angeal looked to him as if he had no idea that Genesis recalled such a thing. He dropped his arm and looked to where he now straddled his "friend." As if they hadn't planned this ordeal.

"Well. Thanks for…keeping it." He handed the book back to Genesis, and Genesis smiled, stroking the cover tenderly.

"To become the dew that quenches the land.

To spare the sands, the seas, the skies.

I offer thee this silent sacrifice." Genesis set the book down, and gave Angeal a sly grin. "There is more to my explanation. I also cherish something else." Angeal looked down at the man, and Sephiroth saw that in the position Genesis was in, he looked as if he were a tiger in heat, the red from his uniform contrasting greatly with his sky blue eyes. It must have been so seductive to look at from Angeal's point of view.

Angeal lowered his head, mocking that he wished to hear what his "friend" said. Sephiroth knew that was a load of shit, for Angeal could hear Genesis clearly from ten feet away. He merely wanted to be close enough to feel the sweetness of the mans breath, and smell the inebriation of the mans skin. Sephiroth was not in love with either of these men, for all he loved was his position. But there was something that made his heart clench when he saw the men get closer, not the repulsion one feels upon seeing two of the same gender kiss, but something else. It was envy, that monster who loved debilitating human hearts. He felt it fully, for he longed for someone to look at him in that way, and mean it. What good did fame have if there was no one to share it with?

Sephiroth recalled reeling back from the thought, for he did not wish to become soft. His soul was lined with steel then, and he continued watching. Genesis spoke again.

"You. I cherish you, my Angel." Sephiroth heard Angeal gasp, for Genesis had skewered his name on purpose, taking out the a in his name, creating "Angel" instead. What a romantic claim! What a confession from such theatrical lips. The comment was sincere though, and he saw Angeal become flustered. He made the motion to leave, but Genesis gripped his arm, caught his face in his hands, and kissed his mouth.

Even now the act sent a shiver of resentment to run up and down his spine. How he wanted someone to take control of him that way. For someone to stop him from leaving, to tell him that they cared for him, words he had never heard uttered his way before selflessly, would be the greatest feeling.

They fell over and Sephiroth heard their moans echo throughout the orchard. The silver haired man bowed his head, feeling jealousy course through his veins. This had been before his mother had come of course, so he was susceptible to the pointless trivilties of human emotions. He felt his body go elsewhere, and the memory ended.


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Cloud saw the scene end, and he had never felt more perplexed. What just happened? Sephiroth was…jealous of his two friends kissing? Had he loved one or the other? The thought made his mouth open, and a small sound come out, for he had never considered the option that his once idol, now bitter rival was…that way. To each their own he knew, but it was such a surprise.

"Envy is a snake. It wraps around the soul and chokes it, smothering it from breath and rational thought." Cloud turned to Minerva and she looked into his eyes, mesmerizing him yet again with her presence. "Sephiroth wanted what they had: a stable relationship. He was never told that someone loved him. No one ever said they cared. Aside from the fair one, your friend Zack, no one treated him as anything but a machine. Even these supposed friends of his did little to nothing to help him, for they felt he was unapproachable."

Her justification of Sephiroth's behavior did not hinder Cloud's rationale. No matter what he had suffered in his past, he still loathed the man for what he had done. Yes, this made a lot more sense now, why Sephiroth was himself. But origin meant nothing, for actions were what mattered, not a persons past. Minerva gestured to the orb again.

"Once more. Let us see what the arrogant one does when he sees the truth."


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The silver haired man was getting quite sick of this entire ordeal. Who hurled people throughout entire worlds for their own amusement? The Goddess herself of course. Sephiroth shook his head and saw that in this world, he was entirely unknown to all of those around him, invisible even. He frowned when he saw that he was in some sort of hospital room, one that had a light blue comforter on the bed, a curtain, and many types of machinery all around the white tiled room. The flourescent lighting threw everything in a sickly yellow glow, and he looked around, scoffing. What could he possibly have to see here?

A woman and a man walked in, and the man he recognized instantly as Professor Hojo. He hated the man, and thought that he was ridiculous in his teachings and ravings. He had not respected him once. The woman was a mystery to himthough , for he had no clue who she was. She was young and beautiful, with a healthy glow on her pallid complexion. Her mahoghany eyes sparkled with intelligence, and her long brown hair was bound in a gold band that made some of the darker tones in her skin stand out. She wore a white lab coat and a dark purple blouse, with a black skirt that was frayed at the edges for style.

"In the name of science Lucrecia, will you do it?" The woman nodded to Hojo, and rubbed her stomach. Sephiroth saw that there was a distinguishable bulge on her abdomen, marking that she was with child. Filthy humans, always repopulating and spreading their disease's and contamination of the world that would be his. The woman nodded.

"Yes. I will." She took off her shoes and lay on the bed while the Professor prepared some sort of scientific concoction. Sephiroth knew that since he was invisible, he could go where he liked and no one would care, much less see him. What an ability. Sephiroth walked over to where the man was placing a clear liquid into a syringe, and he saw that it was translucent, shimmering with a green hue. What the Hell was this man doing to this woman? Injecting her with something? Perhaps that was what the conversation was about.

Hojo turned around and walked over to Lucrecia, knocking his finger against the medical instrument a few times to make sure the ailment was proper. Sephiroth found himself speaking aloud to this madman.

"What are you doing? Injecting this woman with poison? I always knew you were completely insane." Sephiroth watched him stick the woman's stomach, and he saw her eyelids flutter and close, her hand closing in around her stomach. Hojo bent over her and smiled.

"Our child my wife will be the future." The way that the man paid special emphasis on the word wife made Sephiroth examine the situation once more. Hojo married this woman, and he would use their unborn child for…something imortant. If that was what he was doing.

Sephiroth felt himself be tugged forwards, and he was in a woman's bedroom all of a sudden. No matter how many times he would be hurled through Jenova knew where, he would still not get used to the feeling. How exasperating.

The silver haired man took in the view of the room, noting that there was a bureau, a closet, and other personal items around the room. But that was not the center of the room. Lucrecia was in her bed, tossing in her sleep, mumbling incoherent rants. Nightmares added a venom to sleep. Sephiroth sat on her bed, and he wondered what she was dreaming about. The way her husband's eyes had glinted when he was looking down on her maybe?

Sephiroth happened to look to the mirror on her bureau, and he did a double take when he saw images displayed on it, as a type of projection screen. There was a fire burning a village that resembled…Nibelheim. He was watching…himself? Sephiroth went to the edge of the bed and watched as he saw Nibelheim through his own eyes, in a different state of being. Flames lapped at the skies, and it seemed as if it were a scene depicted in "Dante's Inferno" where there was a lullaby of screams and endless flickers of fire. How…hideous.

The man wondered then why he had thought of his past actions as being hideous. Why, hadn't he only done what was right? Humans were meant to bow before him or die, and that night he felt no need to spare them. That was all…wasn't it?

Lucrecia then sat up, panting and gripping her stomach, her womb that was heavy with child. "No…my son." She took a few deep breaths, and he saw that in the dim light of the room, her face was coated with sweat. Then she dissolved into tears, and cried out a sentence. "Oh, what have we done?"

The feeling of moving alerted Sephiroth and he allowed for his body to move once more, to a place he could only imagine. He was suddenly in a delivery room of sorts and he heard Lucrecia screaming, gripping the metal frames of the bed as she pushed the child out of her. Sephiroth wished to leave the room, for he had no place here! Why was he being shown a random woman, other than the fact that she was linked to Hojo?

She gave one long moan, and a cry was heard at the end of her wail, the sound of a newborn infant. The doctors that surrounded her were men in green scrubs and white surgical hats and masks, giving them no semblance of personality. Those uniforms were armor he knew, hiding humanity. Lucrecia let her head fall back to the pillows and she opened her arms, her eyes sparkling with elation.

"May I hold him?" The doctor who was in charge of cleaning the boy up shook his head, and left with the baby in his arms. This surprised Sephiroth. What doctor would deprive a mother from holding her son? Even if humans were no better than animals, even animals deserved to dot on their young. Sephiroth thought it as a false hope that the young got such attention when he would take it away from them. Everyone would die eventually, thanks to his and his mother's doing.

Once more, he was thrown through time and he found himself in a hallway, an abandoned part of the hospital. He whirled around and heard footsteps echo in his ears, tentative footfalls. Sephiroth saw Lucrecia looking into rooms, searching for…something. What was she even doing up? Shouldn't a human woman be in bed after such an ordeal? Then again, time may have passed yet again. In the blink of an eye, a few months had passed in his last few scenarios.

"My Sephiroth, where are you?" Sephiroth felt his mouth open, for he wished to know why this woman was calling his name. What in Jenova's name was she talking about? Sephiroth then abandoned the woman and felt that he needed to quench his curiousity, the foolish notion before it spread over his body, in a panic, in a dread that came with learning the truth of something. There was no sense staying with Lucrecia, for she was delirious, searching for the child she had never been allowed to hold.

He ran up flights of stairs, and all of the the while, he wished to kill off that shock in his heart. Where had it come from? There was no need to be afraid, for Jenova was his mother. Sephiroth felt no need to doubt her. After all, he had said before that his life was nothing without truth. Jenova's truth, the honesty of his existence and origin…all of it was wonderful and one day, his name would be etched in history as the son of Jenova, one who had found a new world.

Sephiroth reached many rooms and threw them all open, looking for Hojo. He found him working in a room that was meant to keep babies in their own areas and carts, and what he saw there almost made his heart stop. Laid out on an operating table, was the smallest creature he had ever seen. It was pitiful, it's size, and Sephiroth felt like he could squish it between his thumb and forefinger. But that was not what had attracted his attention. The child had it's eyes open, and they were mako green. His hair had small tufts of silver, and his skin was pale. What was going on? He looked…like him!

The silver haired man gripped Hojo's throat, and though he could physically touch the man without him noticing, there was no effect. It was as if he were attempting to strangle an iron pole, the effort futile, childish. Sephiroth released his lock on the man, and though it did no good, he began speaking.

"I want answers. Who is this child? Why are you leaving your wife to wander these halls like some sort of asylum patient? And above all, you lunatic, why does this infant look like me?" Sephiroth felt his breath come out in shallow pants, and he felt the world spiral suddenly, tilting on its axis. Oh no. This could not be happening! Denial was a human emotion. In his franticness, Sephiroth read the Professor's notes, and found to his dismay, that they were a journal.

"Day 14: Much progress. Sephiroth means the manifestation of God into many forms. Subject appears stable. To think, my son will be SOLDIER'S hero." Sephiroth whirled around, looking for a calendar. He knew his year of birth, 1977, and that was all he needed to know. It was September 22, 1977. That was his birthday. He located a calendar that had a theme of puppies on it, and paid the pathetic pups no mind, for the days date was October 5th now. Fourteen days…and his birthday was on the same day.

This could not be! Surely there was some logical explanation for this! He implored for his mother to show herself to him and to tell him that this was all one big misunderstanding. For if it wasn't…the possibiltites were horrendous. Coincedences were always possible.

Sephiroth looked to the child, and before his eyes, he saw the boy do a thousand things. In that instant, an infinity passed. Sephiroth saw with growing horror as the child built a human body with blocks, how he had beaten men twice his size, growing up to go to SOLDIER, and finally, snapping. The child was him. He was once human, now a mutant with Jenova in his cells. Jenova toyed with her victims…victim! Damn. That was what he was, wasn't it?

The man let the images fade, and as he felt himself be hurled through oblivion once more, he let loose scream upon scream, gripping his head as he turned it to his right and left. Denial was a human emotion, as was anger and sadness. But he was human, or had been at one point. And that was enough to make a man shriek.


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Cloud bristled and stood up when he saw Sephiroth's body land at his feet. What the Hell was this? After all he had seen, Cloud would be forced to be with him again? He was naked like him, and he was at his feet in an unconscious heap, his forehead beaded with sweat.

Minerva stepped over to Cloud and looked him in his eyes once more. "Do you understand now?" Cloud blinked a few times, and then gave her a look that said she would have to be mad to think he understood any bit of this.

"Hmm. All I understand is that Sephiroth is not dead. I don't care what he went through. He killed people I cared about, and for that, he should go to Hell...or wherever evil goes." Minerva scrutinized first himself, and then the passed out man at his feet.

"I see. You were surprised though. Your face showed revelation. Sephiroth needs truth Cloud. He needs light. And besides…since you both destroyed your hearts, I remade them." Cloud probbed his bare chest, and he felt the distinguishable thump of that organ. Minerva had rebuilt his heart? Not only his…but Sephiroth's?

"Why?" Minerva smirked, as if she knew he would say such a thing.

"At some point in everyone's life, they are given a test that determines their character. This is yours, Cloud. Show me that you have earned The Promised Land, your afterlife, and it shall be yours." Nothing came without work. No reward came without much loss. "Your heart is different now Cloud, as is Sephiroth's. Prove to me that you both can get out of your darkness. Then the light of Heaven is yours." She was so cryptic! She was a prophet, speaking in tongues and endless riddles! Cloud looked to the man at his feet.

"Let me get this straight: escape this world, save Sephiroth from himself, and survive, and I will be allowed to rest in peace?" Minerva nodded. Cloud felt himself tense. Surely she didn't expect him to pair up with his enemy? "But…I hate him. I do…and you are forcing me into this?" Minerva watched him with unwavering eyes.

"You have options. Never are you forced to do anything. But I warn you: if you choose against this, then you will not rest "in peace" as you say. Your soul will be restless, roaming forever. This is unfinished business that you must finish." Cloud let a sigh escape his lips. This could not be happening!

He threw his hands up, exasperated. "I see. Say I agree. What do I do? Escape this black world?" Minerva shook her head, and Cloud had a feeling this would not be that easy. Nothing ever was.

"It is not that simple. I can clothe you both, and your weapons will return when the time is right. Also, you will be allowed to see into your old life to check up on those cherished ones in your life, as well as see some…familiar faces from time to time. But that is all of the favors I can bestow. Don't fear your abilities when they come, and remember that flying is not that hard." Minerva gestured to Sephiroth. "And as for that one…hatred is bitter and much easier than understanding. Remember that." She turned on her heel and Cloud opened his mouth, ready to beg her to stay. This situation was already too strange as it were. And this new predicament had Cloud's head reeling. A forced alliance? It was ridiculous! How could he ever find it in himself to "understand" Sephiroth? Hell would crackle with ice before that could happen, before it had the potential of being reality.

Cloud felt a searing pain in his forehead, and he winced aloud, massaging his temples. It was too severe for his body to take, and he felt his eyes slip shut, to a dreamless rest. Oblivion awaited from this splintered reality.