Ceaseless Oblivion

*passes out* I swear, you all make me feel so loved! Thank you to Unknown Alien for reviewing and calling the story descriptive! And if it made you cry darling, I am honored that you were so deeply touched by my work. *looks up mentioned song* And thank you Kyuubithe Kid, you inspired this chapter with your thought of "Sephiroth needs someone to confide in." It made me come up with this! And to my Anonymouse , thank you for liking this so much! I agree, the story must go further before the smut sinks in. Believe me, it will, but it's going to take a lot of time for that to happen. Remember, this is hatred into love. Also, much thanks to OneWingedAngelSephy from Deviantart for liking this story so much! And to all of those who have favorited it, I see you all on my email, and I practically cry!

This chapter is rated M for sexual content (in memories, no action happens between S and C yet) for a fair warning. Remember: creative liberties!

I own nothing! At all! Except for a Cloud and Sephiroth cellphone case…true story!


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The leaves of memory seemed to make.

A mournful rustling in the dark. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

If the truth could be spoken, words said on trembling lips, Sephiroth would have pronounced it with a withered tone: that he, Sephiroth the once invincible entity, was in pain.

Ever since he had woken up in this world, he had found that some indescribable ache had taken root in his chest, one that he longed to tear out from himself, but found that he couldn't do it. What was his problem? So he had lost his powers, his wing, and his sword. So he found out that everything he had ever believed to be true and just was false. So he had lost his pride, and was forced into the company of the once weakling Strife. Did anything matter anymore? Of course not, for this was oblivion, and there was no escaping from it, no matter how much Cloud told him that there was an exit. There was no getaway from this darkness, for it was inside of him.

Sephiroth felt it probing at the corners of his consciousness when he was sleeping, touching and caressing him like a vile antennae, one that meant to rid him of all of his rationale. It gave him nightmares, horrors that he couldn't describe. In them, he was being torn apart by all of those in Nibelheim, again and again until there was nothing left of him. He was also on a cold lab table and doctors with white surgical masks on their faces opened him up, without anesthesia. His mouth didn't work, for he had tried screaming, and the wails should have echoed around that room. But they were deaf to them, and kept dissecting and ripping him open, seeing what they could make him into next.

He awoke from them in a panic, and he rejoiced when it was time to travel. At least while he was awake he could escape the horrors that picked at his mind. Being awake was his anti-venom, for while he slept, his dreams were poisoned by sick and disturbing thoughts. But wasn't that what he was? Disturbing? Unnatural? A calamity? Yes to all.

This was entirely uncharacteristic of him, to feel this way. Never had he experienced such…anguish. This must have been what kings felt like, when they witnessed the burning of their crystal palace, their ruby encrusted throne perishing with the flickers of the greedy flame. Everything was in ash, in utter ruin. Sephiroth was that deposed prince, watching his estate fall around his feet, everything he had constructed, his truths, his solid volitions…all gone. Nothing had been real, and all had been a lie.

How he longed to scream at the top of his lungs until the sky itself cracked and fell away, pieces of firmament littering the ground like shattered crystal. Sephiroth wished for there to be monsters that came at him, for he would rip them apart with his bare hands, taking out his anger on those abominations, thinking all the while that he was said abomination that deserved to be killed off. All differences were meant to be looked down on, were they not? Sephiroth knew that he was unusual, a freak of nature, one who should not have even had the privilege of breathing the same air as everyone normal.

It all made sense now, in perfect and painful clarity: he was created for the sake of ShinRa, of that foul world known as Gaia, so that they could have some super SOLDIER, a warrior that would defend them mindlessly to the end. He was made for the benefit of others, not merely because his own father had wanted a child who he could love and care for, and teach to be a humble part of society. Humble had not been in his vocabulary. Ever was he trained to be better, always punished when he did something wrong so that he knew not to do it again. And Hojo's tactics had worked.

He became their hero, one who could save ShinRa time and again against those that wished them harm. His tactics in battle had saved his soldiers lives when he was a General, and he enjoyed what he did. Though, what he loved was the feeling it gave him, like he was worth something when he commanded his men. In their eyes, he could do no wrong. When he told them they needed to improve, they told him they would do their best, puffing out their chests and holding their arms behind their backs, standing the way a warrior should stand. Ever playing the part. With that emotion, he fed off of it, as if he were some sort of revolting parasite that loved the attention, the thrill, and the power he got when in that position. He leeched off of others, wanting to get better.

It led to his arrogance towards Genesis, and resulted in his untimely death, as well as Angeal's. In a way, he had killed both of those men. For a moment, he was struck by their loss, the people who he had been friends with for many years. And then he felt like throwing his head back in laughter, a laugh meant to disguise the torment in his heart. Why shouldn't they have died? They were weaklings who had succumbed to decadence, falling apart to nothing but ash, weaklings who had found comfort with the other. Sephiroth scoffed then to himself, for the act was to have him swallow the bile that threatened to rise.

The second memory of where he had found them together once more was still in his mind.

Both were in that field again, and they were in the midst's of foreplay. Genesis was trailing heated kisses down Angeal's neck, and they were both moaning, tangling their hands in the others hair, never not touching. Hands were everywhere, and in their eyes, a light was seen that let Sephiroth know at that moment, both had found ultimate sublimation. Not in the Lifestream, but in the other. And he was jealous. He was so envious of what the other had, that he had called the President and ordered for their removal. Rufus had laughed at the other end, and said no. They were valuable to SOLDIER and if they could find refuge in the other, without calling upon a wanton, then so be it.

However, if he desired such a woman, then he was to let him know immediately. Sephiroth scowled on the end of his receiver, but knew that upon having some randomized female to slake his lust, his anger, his everything, that he would be fine afterwards. With much reluctance, he agreed.

The following evening, a female arrived to his room, one who came in utmost secrecy that ShinRa provided. ShinRa was always willing to put up shields and veils to hide the truth. She had blonde hair that was so light, it appeared white. Her eyes were sapphires, sparkling with mystery and enigma, ones that held wisdom and a sexual thirst that was so akin to her profession.

She had worn a black coat that went to her ankles, and she looked to him once, smirked, and locked the door. The unnamed woman threw off her coat, and revealed a lot of clothing, a white button up shirt, a long black skirt, and tall black stilettos, the point on the shoe reminding Sephiroth of a fine hand blade.

"Anything you want, I can give you." Sephiroth highly doubted that. There was nothing he needed from this woman other than instant gratification, something that would hopefully quell his envy, and stop all of those bitter emotions. It was unrelenting; a burning in his chest that he couldn't get rid of. There was no other option than to be with this woman, something that disgusted him.

Sephiroth ignored her and sat on his bed, placing both of his hands on the mattress. "Strip then." She nodded, knowing that the time for talking was over.

Slowly, with much anticipation, she undid all of the buttons of her shirt, revealing a red bra underneath, something he would enjoy shredding with his fingernails if given the chance. Her skirt came off of her, and he saw red silk underwear line her pristine body, accentuating her backside. Yes, she was beautiful. But she was not his beauty, nor would she ever be. She was only necessary to him, and aside from that, she was another useless specimen that would bring him to victory.

"Kneel before me." She did as she was told, an obedient woman. He jerked her head up suddenly, and a sparkle glinted in her eye, instead of the typical confusion and fear that would have lined those who were faint of heart.

"As you command…master." Her tone was of utmost compliance, and it sent Sephiroth reeling. She really would do everything he asked. His hand curled in her hair, and he gave a jerk, one that sent her neck up in a voluntary spasm. Sephiroth rose from the bed, took her face in his hands, and roughly kissed all of her face. He panted, not out of the inevitability of the act, but from the effort. He had never kissed anyone before, and he was using his natural instinct to guide him, to guide him through this inexplicable period he was going through.

"On the bed. Face down." She nodded, and in a rip of satin, her underwear came off. The woman smirked, placed a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, and then undid her bra strap. She was nude before him, her breasts hardening from the air. Her body seemed to be emanating her sexuality, declaring to the world that she was a deviant of sexual nature, and was proud of her position. That was all she was good for after all: supplying him with a stress and envy relief.

The unnamed woman lay with her face on the bed, and Sephiroth, in a quick hand movement, had his pants and briefs off within a blink of an eye. This would either be quick and fulfilling or long and satisfying. With the way his member throbbed, he knew that this would not be something rapid. Sephiroth placed his hands on either side of the bed, and entered her without a word. Slowly, he rocked his hips back and forth, easing into her skin. She had been taken more than once before he knew, for it was her job to supply men and women alike with her body. She was damaged goods, but everything could be salvaged to supply a higher cause.

The image of Genesis's face flashed in his mind, one that was bathed in pure elation, all because Angeal kissed his hand, and then his lips. It made him growl, and he pumped his now rock hard length into the woman, sparing her nothing. The sensation was beautiful, but frustrating at the same time. He wanted release from that damned feeling, from that ever present jealousy that seemed to never grant him peace. Sephiroth didn't want to feel this way! He had no idea why he had sunk so low as to let that vile green monster take him over, and once more, make him act this…unbecomingly. Only the most desperate man made love to an absolute stranger, a being who was nothing more than parts to fill the whole with temporary happiness. Yes, he was desperate.

The woman moaned below him, and he knew she loved this, loving his desperation, his weakness. If they were to kiss, he knew she would taste it on his tongue, on the fine corners of his lips, that limitation of his very soul. Sephiroth shoved into her, being rough, being dirty, being desperate for orgasm. Perhaps that would render him…normal again?

Within five minutes, it came, and he arched into the woman, and he swore he saw the entire solar system dance behind his eyes. Stars blinked and shimmered in his vision, a supernova occurring, spreading the firmament of space in its expansion. Black holes engulfed everything, leaving nothing behind. So this was elation, cloud nine. It left him short of breath, his heart hammering in his chest, echoing in his ears like a dull throb. It worked. The emotion was still there, but it was not so…all consuming as it had been. How pathetic, making love to a woman because he was jealous and could not deal with the emotion in another way. What other option was there? Should he train until he bled from his pores? Should he run until the skin on his heels shredded, simply to get that vision out of his eyes? And above all…he knew why he was jealous, and it made him angry at himself.

Sephiroth and the woman made love three more times, one time with her hands bound to the bed, where she moaned, but never objected. The second time was where she spread her legs up and around his head, and he licked and caressed her orifice, using his tongue to taste the bittersweet flavor of her cum. The last time was where they kissed every part of the others body, her lips trailing over his stomach, and he tasting the spice of her legs. She smelt nice, and she was quiet. And, she would give him what he wanted.

Four hours had passed, and there was no need to pay her. ShinRa would do that, supplying all of those lonely SOLDIER's with what they needed: a lover. She would do. She dressed quickly, and bowed once to him, and then left without a word. It left him recalling why he was jealous in the first place: because, he had wanted what Genesis and Angeal had. Someone to talk to in the late hours of the night. Someone to understand his thoughts, his aspirations. And above all…he wanted something other than power, than the thrill of seeing others respect him.

When Sephiroth had ran through that memory when him and Cloud were walking, he about slapped himself in the face. He needed to find a way to deal with this, with everything. Though, how was one to deal when they were in the midst's of nothing? The world never ceased to be dark, aside from the dawn Cloud had spoke of, something he always managed to miss. How fitting. Strife saw something he didn't. How utterly pathetic! He missed so much, wanted so much…and yet nothing was granted. The only constant was silence.

There was no conversation, aside from the necessary talk, where to hunt and when to get water. Sephiroth didn't wish to talk to Cloud, for he was afraid that if he did such a thing, he would say something he immensely regretted. He, in his current lunacy, would babble on and on about something asinine, a memory for one. At the moment, he would have said anything to break the silence, the droll. But there was none of that, for Cloud hated him. Sephiroth could say the same, but a new emotion was added onto that loathing: envy.

Cloud was now ideal, a man with not one extraordinary ability, but two. His skin glimmered a translucent blue, something that was many shades lighter than the man's eyes. Also, crystal wings adorned his shoulder blades, wings that spanned out to be even longer than his black one, a bitter memory of his past. Alike a phantom limb, a ghost lingered on his right shoulder, one that ached for the feel of the ebony feathers on his face, of the bone beneath his skin. And yet…he could have none of it. Karma was a bitch indeed.

The man who was once so scrawny, little more than dirt beneath his shoes, had excelled to his level and beyond. Sephiroth was stuck on the ground, watching Cloud twist and twirl in the Heaven's, a huge display following him. The unimaginable had been imagined, conveyed, and set in stone: Cloud was now on a higher level than himself, in every single way. How disturbing, this truth.


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After many hours, hours spent thinking over his memories, sifting through the rubble of his current existence, Sephiroth decided to try his luck at resting. He woke up Cloud, who blinked twice, and was instantly alert, something he knew he gained from his days of being a warrior, of almost being a SOLDIER.

Sephiroth flipped to his back, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out everything and just focus on getting some decent sleep. He didn't want nightmares. He wanted peace, something that seemed to be eternally lost to him. How sad. Everything was lost to him.

Faintly, his heart throbbed in his rib cage, and every beat reminded him that right now, in this current state of mind, he was living unnaturally. Did he really have bones beneath his skin, or was he simply moving off of the accord and pleasure of some cosmic force? Was Jenova still controlling him, that once mother who wished for nothing more than to make him a pretty pawn? Sephiroth had no idea. All he knew was that his chest hurt and ached for something. He rolled over to his side, away from the dying fire, though he had enjoyed its warmth. The heat on his back soothed him into a dream like stupor, and he felt his lids cease movement. Perhaps this night, there would be no nightmare.

Not knowing what caused it, Sephiroth opened his eyes suddenly, and saw that there were two things that were wrong: he was sitting upright, and Zack Fair was right next to him. Surely this could not have been happening? He was asleep, he was trying to dream…

"Long time no see." The voice was unmistakable in its timbre, octaves he would know anywhere. It let Sephiroth know that this was reality, and alike everything in this world, he would have to deal with the knowledge that everything he had determined, everything he had once thought was incapable was capable of happening. Take this for instance. When ones eyes closed, they were supposed to drift off to sleep, not wake up three feet from your body, staring down at it, wondering what had happened, or if they were dead and looking down at the image of their husk of a form. All of it was simply beyond belief.

Also, Zack Fair was beside him. A man who had died by fatal bullet wounds, the man who would roll in his grave when he saw the mess he had made of his former girlfriend.

Suddenly, it all made sense. The image before him was a vengeful spirit, one who had roamed Gaia hungrily for his life, wishing to take it out of him in exchange for his beloved Aeris. Revenge was his motive, and nothing more.

Sephiroth halted his internal tactic reasoning, and looked the phantom up and down. He was in a dark blue outfit, and from the light that emanated from Cloud's skin, he could see the man perfectly. His eyes were light blue, something that was natural and not induced by mako like his were. His hair was still black with the spikes that seemed to defy all forms of gravity, and stay up, just like Cloud's did. And, on his lips, was a smile. He was looking at him as if he were a dear old friend, one who he wanted nothing more than to sit for hours and catch up, talk about things they had yet to say. Looks were deceiving. Beneath this façade was nothing more than a spirit who wished to take his soul and hurl it across oblivion, pounding it into Hell where the demons waited.

Sephiroth stiffened, and tried to will himself back down to his body, away from this seeming image of a one time friend. It didn't work. Of course it didn't, for he was utterly powerless. A brush of skin on his arm made him jump, lessening his concentration. He saw that Zack had touched his arm, a concerned look crossing his face. It was all illusions of course, for evil ghosts could not feign that type of unease.

"Are you alright?" Sephiroth responded by laughing, something he was surprisingly good at for not doing it often.

"Get away. Or better yet…take me. Take me away from this place, from this…oblivion! Leave Strife all alone to suffer, to go mad. And take me to Hell, where I undoubtedly belong!" He felt his eyes go wide, and his hands began to shake. In his extremities, he felt like he knew a truth aside from the one he had resigned himself to: that unknowingly, he had stumbled upon something wrathful, and would take him from this place. Minerva herself had no control over what overcame him, or what dragged him out, now did she? Even Goddess's were powerless.

Zack's eyes went wide, and in a move that would have resulted in a broken jaw on Gaia, slapped his face twice. Sephiroth shook his head, startled by the act. Ghosts were supposed to be…transparent, were they not? So how was it that it managed to do him harm? Of course, anything was possible, and this spirit might have been black enough, evil enough to linger and gather energy and boundless strength, something that gave him the ability to touch. And once more, the aptitude to cause damage.

"Get a hold of yourself Sephiroth! I'm real!" He scoffed, for this was not real. All that was real was the false tone in his voice, one that alerted him to the fact that he was indeed a ghost, one that would take him beyond this area. All he had to do was prove it.

Sephiroth licked his lips, preparing for speech, for cruelty. "I killed your flower girl, that precious Aeris. You should have seen her. My masamune dripped with her blood, and I wanted to lick it off. Her eyes closed, and she did not die right away. Imagine her pain, Fair. Imagine it! Her heart was struck, and she died trying in vain to stop my mission! I killed your precious Aeris." All the while, Zack's eyes had no change. There was no widening of the oculars, an opening of the mouth, or a tightening of the hands, forming fists. There was simply no reaction. Well, how interesting. He had expected a transformation, a black swirling mass and gaping mouth where his face had been. Apathy had been a most unexpected thing.

Zack looked to him, and to Sephiroth's surprise, he nodded. There was no strain in the effort, but he was not writing the act off at all. He knew what had happened. A most devious and intelligent phantom indeed!

"Sephiroth…you think I'm here as a ghost, right?" Sephiroth had a feeling the sentience of this malicious being would try and deceive him. He was not safe around this being at all, for there was no shielding his thoughts, his intentions, his anything from him. A moment of terror struck Sephiroth, something that never would have happened on Gaia. But the tables certainly had turned, against his odds and for the favor of another.

"I'm not. I'm very real Sephiroth." Zack touched his arm again, and to his surprise, a flood of memories rushed into his skull, racking his head with pain. There he was, telling Zack that Angeal had betrayed them. There he was, saying that he would meet Zack again soon. And there they were, ready to fight, Zack telling him he had trusted him so much, with his very life. All of this was real, and had happened. Oh, this being had a lock on memories as well!

Sephiroth felt Zack loosen his grip on his arm, and Zack looked to him, almost as if he were at a loss as to what to do. Spirits doubted themselves? He certainly was learning a lot from this maleficent specter. He scrutinized the thing, and found that there was not one flaw in its disguise, the form that it had assumed that meant to be the dead Zack Fair. Everything was perfect, down to his pores. Where could he uncover the weakness?

Zack sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Sephiroth…General, listen to me right now. I am real! I am no ghost or anything." To prove his point, he stood up, and began thrusting his body left and right, a mockery of a dance. He did his squat thrusts, ones he did when he was excited. Sephiroth blinked a few times, wondering what this unorthodox show would prove. So he could move. That proved nothing more than how far the ghost's abilities had developed. It was a frightening thought indeed, how far the phantom had proceeded in his talents.

The man sighed and dropped to the floor. "Sephiroth…I know you killed Aeris. I should be furious with you, pounding you to pulp with my bare hands right now…but I don't get angry anymore. I don't feel anything bad anymore." What manner of madness was this? Everything felt anger. Of course…it was a cop out, for he was trying to lead him into a false sense of security, something that had been the downfall of many. It was a vengeful spirit, and what made it was anger. It was as if a Venus fly trap tried to tell the fly that it was nothing more than a harmless plant right before it snapped its wicked jaws shut, its teeth and stomach acids dissolving the insect. It was nothing more than a pretty charade.

Sephiroth laughed once more. "Oh? Take me right now! Tell me how you want to kill me. Tell me how you will laugh as Hell's demons will rip me to pieces. Tell me." All of this was spoken in an even tone, something calm in his voice that surprised Sephiroth. Shouldn't he have been yelling at the thing? Zack shook his head.

"I wont say that! Believe me…please?" He looked to Sephiroth in such a way that reminded him of the Zack Fair who was gone forever to him, lost to the world that he had once been a part of. It was a look that a lost and beaten puppy had got, the nickname Angeal had given him a long time ago, the time of twelve lifetimes it seemed.

Sephiroth felt a flicker of doubt enter his mind. Could this have really been…Zack? He knew now what he would do: trust this thing, so that he would be taken away at the end of this conversation. Yes, that would be it! Something told him that what he was doing now was absolute suicide, letting this ghost tell him something other than the truth. Martyrdom? He was sick of all of this, and if this was the end of him…so be it. Minerva herself could not help this.

Sephiroth nodded to the man. "I…believe you." Zack seemed to sense that he still doubted him, but he knew that it was a wasted effort to try and pretend otherwise. He nodded his head, and then proceeded to talk to him.

"Aren't you wondering why I'm here?" Sephiroth started, and had to admit, he had no idea why this being was here with him, placing his soul out of his body for a mere conversation. All of it was ridiculous, but it was his life now: a huge antic that seemed like it belonged in the tom foolery of a circus sideshow. He nodded.

"Why are you here? Aren't you dead?" Zack chuckled, and nodded his head.

"I'm here to give you someone to talk to. And to give you some answers." Two purposes, all of them false. The ghost was toying with him, but he would allow for it to amuse him for awhile, giving him some time to say farewell to living. But if it was one thing he learned, it was that he did not die easily, if at all. Sephiroth urged with the man to continue. Zack sat down across from Sephiroth, to where he would clearly be able to see his face.

"You haven't been talking to Cloud. At all. Though, have you noticed any…changes in him?" Sephiroth looked to him in utter exasperation. Of course he noticed the changes! The man had wings and his skin glowed! How could one who was not blind not notice? To this, Zack chuckled. "Besides the obvious. Notice how he is more…nice to you?" Sephiroth blinked twice, and then nearly dissolved into hysterical laughter. Nice? Cloud? Sure, he had let himself be a little…closer when they cleaned up in the mornings, and he didn't leave him in his dust like the first few days, his light becoming nothing more than an ebbing hue…but what did that account for? Nothing of course.

"If you are referring to how he is not so hesitant towards me, then yes. But it doesn't matter." Zack shook his head.

"That's where you're wrong. It matters a lot. I talked with him a few days ago, and I told him exactly what the Goddess said: that he needs to get out of this world, with you in tow. He can't leave you behind, run away, or fight it. So, the only option was to ally himself with you, as crazy as that sounds." Crazy…it was beyond crazy! It was asinine that he even let himself listen to this ghoul!

Sephiroth had had enough. He stood up, and began walking towards his body, thinking that he could place himself into it, and forget all of this had ever happened. Though, it might have been silly to turn ones back on an enemy, on a foe, but Sephiroth stopped caring. In that moment, he was prepared for imminent death. It never came. What came instead was a sensation on his head…as if he was hit by an object.

He looked to the ground, and saw a rock next to his left foot, one that was clearly aimed by this "Zack." Sephiroth sighed aloud and turned around, opening his arms wide, revealing his body, his entire frame. All that was left was for him to die. He looked to the ghost, and smiled, though it was not proper to do such a thing when facing death. Cloud was wrong; death was something to laugh at. He felt as if he were about to be crucified.

Zack stared at him, and before he could get a word in, Sephiroth spoke. "Go ahead, vengeful spirit. Kill me! I know you want to. You saw how I rammed my masamune through your dear Aeris's chest, that precious flower girl. You saw how I killed people with no shred of compassion, becoming a monster before everyone's eyes. Go ahead! Slay the demon! Kill the monster! I know…you want to."

His eyes shimmered, and he felt moisture building in his eyes, something that happened when he got over stimulated. Sephiroth hadn't even conceived the notion that they were tears. Zack stood up, and ran to him, catching Sephiroth entirely off guard. The man opened his arms wide, and Sephiroth forced his eyes open. Only a coward closed their eyes when they were doomed to death. He was prepared for a hideous transformation, one in which Zack became the image of his true self, the ghoul that had taken refuge and used his form. He was prepared for pain, for the searing agony that came with death, with someone taking utmost pleasure in tearing him limb from limb. What he had not expected was to be embraced.

Zack gripped his shoulders in his hands, and held him so tightly, Sephiroth couldn't breathe for a moment. What was this? Of course…he was the pitiful field mouse who was ensnared with the cobra, delicious prey that would be squeezed to death. Suffocation was a terrible way to go. Many minutes passed, and nothing changed, other than the steadiness of Zack's breathing. All was constant, being held in this other man's arms. What was this?

"Sephiroth…stop. I know this is…awkward, getting hugged by another guy…but just relax. I am not going to kill you. I am not going to do you wrong, or any harm. I just wanted to come to give you some information. And Sephiroth…I forgive you. For what you have done. Aeris does too." This got Sephiroth's attention, and once more, he believed him. As odd as it sounded, all of his earlier paranoia vanished, as if it never were, the shadow falling away as if hidden by the thrum of steady rain. He…trusted that this was Zack? Yes, yes he did.

His eyes slipped closed, and he cherished the moment, though he knew it was against his very character to do so. It just felt good to be held, to be soothed in this way, even if it was with another man. His chest was strong, and his arms were capable of supporting him he knew, incase another bout of mania came about him. Sephiroth felt, for the first time in who knew how long, safe. He exhaled once, and Zack let him go. He should have looked sheepish, but there was nothing. There was nothing on his former friend's face other than happiness. Everything was backwards here.

"Alright, I am going to ask you some questions Sephiroth, and give me your answer. And tell the truth." As if some other force were controlling him, Sephiroth nodded. But nothing controlled his actions, not Jenova, Minerva, or Hell itself. He was doing this under his own will. Zack smiled to him, and then began.

"Do you want to take over Gaia, or this world at all?" Sephiroth opened his mouth, ready to say the first thing that came to mind. And then that sentence occurred, and all thought of words was useless. What a question. Now that he knew the truth of his origin, of his life, and how he was nothing more than a white pawn to some foreign calamity, he had no desire to follow the path someone else made for him. He was Sephiroth, and he made his own way.

He shook his head, feeling a great wave of anguish settle over him. There was that pain again, emerging because of another truth: that Zack Fair was here, right beside him like the old days, and that he was asking him questions that about determined his future, his fate, and what would become of this life. Could an answer shatter oblivion?

"No. I have no need for that. Besides…how would I go about it with no power?" He was so weak here. Even the greatest of tyrants were nothing when the lights went out and all was stripped from them. Sephiroth was left with whatever was left over, with the ugliness of his soul. Zack nodded, and his eyes flashed with an emotion he had only seen a few times: pity. He pitied him?

"Given the chance, would you redo your mistakes?" This startled him. What man wouldn't give to go back, and change their stupid and foolish errors? And once more, what man would be thoughtless enough to not wish for change? Would he stop his erratic musings in that mansion, halt in his steps, and try and find the answer of his origin? Would that have changed everything? Had Genesis never come to him and told him he was a perfect monster, would he have done everything differently? That was his answer.

"No. I see the error in my ways." That was all he could say, for a hand seized his windpipe, one that was hell bent on inflicting his body with the maximum amount of pain possible. Zack seemed to sense this, for his eyes filled with empathy once more.

Empathy…it was different than sympathy. Sympathy was the same definition of pity, whereas empathy was sympathies antithesis. It was an emotion meant to try ones hardest to understand something, to feel something for another. Given that Zack's nickname was "puppy" Sephiroth thought of a dog who looked up at its master, sadness in its eyes, as if he alone had done him wrong. Zack was blameless, whereas it was entirely his fault. He had let himself be overcome, and he was responsible for the repercussions. How strange, for this was the clearest he had thought in weeks. It all made sense now! All of his thoughts before this were pointless, useless makings that his brain gave him. Sephiroth really did see the error of his ways as he had put it, and he wanted…something. What was it?

Zack spoke once more. "And once more, Sephiroth, would you ever repeat your history?" This question made him react differently. He gripped Zack's arm, and squeezed it, not to cause pain, but for emphasis.

"No! I am powerless! I could never kill another village, nor would I kill all of those in my way! Why would I, the now weak Sephiroth, wish to harm another living thing? Besides…I haven't the energy for it." He let his friends arm go, and he looked to the ground, his thoughts spinning. Zack clapped his hands on his back, and that made Sephiroth look up. There was a smile on his face, and it was quite something, a grin that seemed to emanate true light.

"Now that's what I want to hear. Good." His eyes grew serious then. "What do you want, Sephiroth? Do you want change? Do you want redemption? Or do you want revenge?" Sephiroth knew right then that this was truly Zack Fair, but a more sentient version of him, one that had gained utter wisdom upon death. Who knew? Perhaps he was Minerva's personal messenger?

Sephiroth cleared his throat. "Change…am I capable of such a thing? Redemption only comes for those good enough, worthy enough. Revenge…upon whom? ShinRa, for creating me? My father, for not caring enough to raise me? Or Jenova, the puppet master herself?" He gave a dark chuckle. " No to all, for I have to be strong enough for that. I have no wing, no power…no anything." Sephiroth gestured all around them, to the blackness, to the colorful yet colorless world. "This is oblivion. Nothing can be gained from this world." Zack listened intently, and nodded.

"Anyone can gain something from a seeming impossible situation. It's up to you to find out what can be achieved." Cryptic statements. Zack was beginning to sound like Minerva herself. "Also…would you kill Cloud?" A blade revealed itself in thin air, and it rippled, as if it were liquid metal. Zack reached up and took its handle, spun it twice, and gestured to where Cloud was sleeping soundly, one wing curled around him. "Would you take this weapon, and kill him? Stab him repeatedly through his chest? Tear off his limbs? Rip at his organs?" The thought filled him with so much terror, Sephiroth began to shake. What the Hell was happening to him? The thought of death used to be his lullaby, for he wanted to eradicate all humans, corrode them, control them, until they served to better suit his purposes. And now? He couldn't even look upon a blade without feeling ill. How utterly pathetic.

And the thought of killing Cloud should have filled him with glee, with a sadistic side of him that he always loved bringing to life. He had loved toying with his mind, with his body. But it was in past tense, for there was none of that familiar love in him right then. To kill required the want to kill, to murder. And he had none of it. There was emptiness in him, the only emotions he felt being pain and hysteria. Oblivion really had become him. To kill meant that he would have had to feel the burn in his chest, the want to harm something. Yes, he would harm something if it meant him ill intent. But if nothing meant him any damage, he would let it live.

"No. I wouldn't." The blade disappeared, and Zack smiled so brightly, Sephiroth felt as if he were staring into the core of the sun right then, needing to look away unless he longed for permanent retinal damage.

"Sephiroth…believe it or not, this is all necessary. You are meant to be here with Cloud. He is your light, like Minerva said. Follow him, fight beside him, and take care of him. I know that is a lot to ask, seeing as how you killed so many people who he loved. But he knows they are alright. As strange as this sounds…forgiveness is not that hard. Try to understand him, and in return, he will do the same." He was asking him to be…friendly with Strife? That was ridiculous! Strife hated him! It was like asking two male beta's to be together in a fish tank without killing the other. It was as if he were trying to defy nature itself by doing this task.

Sephiroth let a small laugh escape his lips. "He hates me." Zack shrugged.

"Maybe. But who is to say hatred can't simply…leave? A lot of things are simple. Put aside your differences, your past… everything. You have to do this, or else…you'll be here forever." Damn. Blackmail was it? Trust Strife, and try to understand him, and all would be…well? What a joke! And yet…there was wisdom in it. Two people who hated the other got nothing accomplished, nor ever would. In order for them to leave this place, they would have to face abyss together.

Together…how crazy. Him and Cloud, together? Could they be anything but foes?

Zack tilted his head to the sky, as if he were listening to an orchestra that he was deaf to. A smile lit his features, and he nodded to him.

"I'll be back, my old friend. Remember what I said: I am no ghost, and you need to learn to understand Cloud. He may surprise you. He is loyal to all of his friends, and if you make the effort…who knows?" He gave him a knowing smile, as if he knew something he didn't. "And…you will get power. But everything is earned." With that, he turned on his heel and within a bat of his eyelids, he was gone, only his memory lingering.

Sephiroth felt something touch his shoulder, and he looked to his left, and found himself sitting upright now, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Cloud was in front of him, every single pore outlined by the turquoise luminosity from his body, that strange yet lovely light showing every part of him. For one moment, he could not breathe. It was as if he were a mortal who had stumbled upon a fairy circle, watching the most lovely and wicked being in it dance, twirl, captivated in their movements.

He felt as if he should douse his head in cold water, as well as slap his face. What the Hell was he thinking? He obviously wasn't.

"Let's go." Cloud rose and he bat his wings twice, and walked to the river. All of his movements were watched in Sephiroth's eyes, as if he were trying to unveil his traveling companion in his eyes. What was beneath that stony exterior, the hardened eyes? What was underneath his skin, and what did his soul look like? And furthermore…would he ever find out?

The truth was a melancholy nocturne, blaring and humming with severity, and cruelty. But there was no saying that the truth could not be a wake up call. Sephiroth was awake, and he found himself tired of living in the dark, in his past. Yes, he had died once more, and he would no longer return to wreak havoc on Gaia. Yes, he had been stripped bare, instigated and tortured by the Goddess and his own past. And yes, he was without power, his wing and everything that had made him him.

But so what? He had to escape this world with Cloud at his side, and he was going to see this through. It was the final act of his life, not that unlike of Hercules who had to go through many seeming impossible tasks to be a true god. This was his swansong, something that he had to do to gain redemption, and the change Zack spoke of.

The thought startled him more than the cold water he placed on his face to wake him up. Why…did he want change? He stared into the water so long, Cloud told him to get a move on. Was that what he wanted now? He rose from the riverbank and began following Cloud through the forest they were in, throwing some tree branches from his face.

"Strife…is change possible?" Cloud stopped in his tracks, and looked over his shoulder. His wing parted, and Sephiroth was allowed to see his face. It was so serious, almost grave. He nodded, and gestured to his wings, and then to his skin.

"I know it is. Look at me for example. If such a thing can happen, then who's to say that it's not?" Sephiroth caught the man's eyes, and he saw intensity there, as if he were speaking in code. In theory, he was saying that he himself could change, could turn the black and twisted mess of his soul into something radiant and…dare he say it, pure if he cared enough to. Change took time, and if he was willing to put the effort into it, anything was possible. All of his apathy, envy, anger and useless emotions could be turned on it's head if he tried hard enough. Granted, this was all in theory.

Sephiroth nodded. "If you say so Strife, if you say so."


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