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[aonemanarmy]

[aonemanarmy]

Lost as he was in the throes of his own madness and the thrill of reuniting with his long lost 'mother' Sephiroth failed to notice the approach of the infantryman until it was too late. Realization only dawned upon him when Jenova's visage visibly distorted beneath a web of cracked glass. The attack was so sudden that not even the pain registered at first in Sephiroth's mind, only a strange feeling of disorientation.

It was only after the blade was twisted and wrenched free that the pain hit Sephiroth. White-hot agony shot through his body as flesh and bone were rent asunder and hot blood spurted out, covering the cracked glass and pooling on the floor beneath his feet. Except, he couldn't remain standing for long since the sword's razor-sharp blade had cleaning cut through his spinal cord, the severed nerves causing him to collapse to his knees into the spreading pool of blood.

The blow should've outright killed him were he anyone else, but somehow Sephiroth remained conscious, hands still pressed against the glass of Jenova's prison which he used to keep himself upright. Yet, despite the sheer agony that wracked his body and the way his lifeblood continued to spread beneath him, Sephiroth didn't so much as utter a single sound of pain. The only sign that the pain had registered in him at all was the way he grit his teeth and the way his fingers clenched, as if trying to find some sort of purchase against the cracked glass.

A distinct metallic taste filled Sephiroth's mouth and flowed past his lips, bright flecks of crimson painting his pale skin in a silent display of suffering. Still, it wasn't enough to get him to vocalize anything other than a low, humorless chuckle as he shifted a hand down to press against the gaping wound in his abdomen.

As horrific as the pain might've been it wasn't the worst pain he'd ever felt in his life and he'd long since steeled himself against it, and as such allowing it to have any power over him. Pain was simply the natural state of this world and if one wasn't suffering then they weren't truly living. Sephiroth had never been able to comprehend a life without pain, so this new pain was nothing different and the grievous injury he'd suffered was yet another he would bear just as he'd always done.

“M-mother...” the words parted his lips flecked with blood on shallow breath. “Let us go...together...”

Already Sephiroth could feel his wounds beginning to knit themselves back together, a unique 'gift' that had been bestowed upon him thanks to Jenova's cells. Being in close proximity to their point of origin seemed to stir them into action much swifter than it normally took for them to respond as they worked to repair the damage the infantryman had inflicted. It was thanks to that special quality he possessed that he was able to not only survive the blow that would've killed anyone else, but he also wasn't paralyzed either. It would've been considered a miracle under any other circumstance, but to Sephiroth it was part of the curse of his own existence and what made him the killing machine that Shinra had designed him to be.

Slowly Sephiroth rose back to his feet, a cascade of blood falling to the floor as he did so. He was hardly deterred though, as the man straightened and put his left hand on the hilt of the Masamune, drawing the blade with a surprising level of dexterity even after all that had happened. Then with blade in hand he slashed at Jenova's prison, shattering the glass and sending it scattering and unleashing a torrent of formaldehyde and mako onto the floor.

However, that wasn't the end of things. In a move that would seem contradictory to his earlier words and actions Sephiroth slashed with the blade again, this time removing Jenova's head from her shoulders and sending it tumbling through the air. The decapitated head never reached the floor though, for Sephiroth caught it in his right hand, his gloved fingers curling into Jenova's wet hair and holding it by his side like a morbid trophy. Only once he was reassured that his 'mother' was secured did Sephiroth turn away from the center of the room and made his way toward the door leading out of the chamber of horrors.

The young SOLDIER tumbled down the steps; though the fight was admirable, it was hardly enough to stop Sephiroth. Who could possibly stop Sephiroth? At this rate, the entire world was in danger, all by one man. Helplessness crept over the ex-Turk. Removing his hand from his wound, he saw blood once again soiling his gloved palm. All of the effort he had taken to get to this place had taken a toll on his partially healed wound, opening it anew. Cursing his weakness, Vincent watched Sephiroth ascend towards his mother once again, hearing his words of a 'Promised Land'. He had heard that phrase before... Gast, Hojo, and Lucrecia had briefly spoken of it, but he had gleaned little to nothing of what it was. Whatever it was though, it couldn't mean anything good for the innocent people who were bound to fall prey to this newly awakened monster.

Just as Vincent was about to say something, he heard another individual approach. He recognized the boy. He was the one he had seen crawling on the floor towards a flamed house. An Infantryman. What could a lowly Infantryman do in that a First Class SOLDIER could not? He feared for the boy's life, but seeing the fury in the blonde's face told Vincent this was a personal matter. The boy seethed, dragging the massive sword which had previously belonged to the other fallen SOLDIER; Betrayal evident in every movement he made. He had lost everything because of this one man. His grip on the hilt of the sword was tense, the rage flaming in his blue eyes. Even Vincent could feel it from across the way. It was a raw potent anger that even resonated with his beasts. He had never seen such fury. Suddenly, the glass cracked, creating large spider-like veins that collected at the center between Sephiroth and the glass. Blood dripped down onto the ground, creating a large pool of crimson. The boy had rammed the large sword through Sephiroth, nearly cutting him in two.

Vincent's eyes widened in horror. The boy's eyes remained hidden behind his helmet, the stab not enough to suffice his rage towards the man with silver hair. With another force, he twisted the blade within Sephiroth, fully intent on creating as much pain in Sephiroth as possible before tearing it out of his body, watching Sephiroth crumble to his knees before the alien. The pain in Vincent's chest worsened, watching Sephiroth bleed out from a wound similar to the one Sephiroth had given him. Unlike Vincent, though, the boy held nothing back.

Instinctively, Vincent wanted to come to Sephiroth's aid, but he held himself back with much effort, knowing full well the boy's actions were justified. However, Sephiroth didn't go down that easily. After having battled him in the basement, Vincent knew this wouldn't kill Sephiroth outright. He watched on with halted breath to see what Sephiroth would attempt next.

[aonemanarmy]

@kyouminaine

Sephiroth: Cloud, my mother wants to talk to you.

Jenova: My child-

Cloud: Don't call me that.

Jenova: Fine. Son-in-law.

Cloud: Nope. Do not like that.

Jenova: Daughter-in-law?

Cloud: Significantly worse.

Jenova: Too bad, you vetoed the other ones. This is what you're stuck with.

Cloud: God damn it.

[aonemanarmy]

Sephiroth's dismissal of Vincent should have been the end of it, but the ex-Turk appeared to be far more stubborn than someone had the right to be. True, the other man might not have been truly human anymore, but Sephiroth thought that he'd retain some sense of self-preservation or seen the futility in his actions. Then again, it was all too normal for their kind not to know when to leave things alone or when to quit when they were ahead.

They only seek to manipulate and use you still. He is no different than the rest. Do not allow him to try to sway you and lure you back into their control.

The irony was that Jenova did the very thing that she cautioned Sephiroth against, but the man's mind was so broken he could no longer realize that was happening. Rage as he might against being used as a mindless tool he was helpless to understand a life beyond that reality and that he'd only exchanged one master for another. Right now it didn't matter though, since all Sephiroth cared about was this moment where he felt like he finally found someone that cared about him beyond what he could do for them. It was truly a sad state of affairs.

None of that mattered to Jenova. All she saw was a means of escaping her prison and reuniting with her scattered remnants, then from there she could pick up where she left off 2,000 years earlier. This time the whole process would be much easier with the pathetic Cetra driven to near total extinction; even at their full strength they had nearly been wiped out completely by her, and it was only by a stroke of luck that they had managed to seal her away deep within the earth. The Cetra were no more and the pitiful humans that were left behind lacked the power to stop her and now that she had awakened she was ready to resume the cycle.

Jenova felt the glare that came from Vincent and mused that it was almost like the pitiful being had sensed her true purpose. The aura of the human was off though, the energy that emanated from him indiscernible to others of his kind was clear and distinct to her otherworldly sight and she saw in him echoes of the planet itself. Curious. Whatever it was though, she was hardly concerned as she had devoured countless worlds and their lifeforms, all of them posing their own form of fearless resistance only for them all to fall one by one. None of them were ever capable of truly destroying her, even if she were cut into millions of pieces or reduced to a few cells then she could regenerate and be reborn anew.

It was only a matter of time.

Before Jenova could direct Sephiroth to destroy the ex-Turk he darted out of sight as another distraction decided to make itself known in the chamber in the form of a dark-haired SOLDIER. Reaching into Sephiroth's mind Jenova was able to pluck the information of the newly arrived threat and she ordered the silver-haired man to deal with it. They had no need of further distractions and if the ex-Turk decided to interfere again then he would be dealt with accordingly.

Rid us of him.

Sephiroth nodded at the instruction as he turned to face Zack, the familiar face wrought with distraught, disbelief, and rage. It was a sharp contrast to Sephiroth's own visage which remained expressionless as he took a single measured step toward the SOLDIER. A wordless threat was conveyed in that single movement, but it was one that the black-haired man either didn't see or flat-out ignored as he continued to shout. It was a message that Zack didn't receive until Sephiroth swung his weapon and soon found himself drawn into a fierce battle.

Steel clashed against steel in a flurry of blows too fast to be seen by the normal human eye. To see one SOLDIER in combat was an awe-inspiring sight, but to see a clash between two was a spectacle the likes of which was rarely seen outside of training sessions. This was far from a training bout though, and as talented as Zack might've been he was no match for Sephiroth, the world's strongest SOLDIER and the infamous Demon of Wutai in a one-on-one battle.

So it was only a matter of time before Zack was struck down and cast aside, his body crumpled against one of the large mako pods leading up to Jenova's chamber.. If he still drew breath or not Sephiroth didn't care, because he knew that there would be no further disruptions from him and that was all that was important. With Zack out of the way Sephiroth obediently returned to Jenova's side, eagerly seeking her approval like a lost child desperate for their parent's attention.

“Mother, let us take this planet back together. I have thought of a great idea. Let us go to the Promised Land. “

The heaviness of the room was anything but pleasant. Perhaps it was due to his Chaos genes, or simply the fact that he had become more beast than man. But the foreboding aura could be strongly felt. It was almost stifling, like it was seeking to choke out whatever humanity was within proximity of that tank. As Sephiroth turned to face Vincent, the gunslinger caught sight of the figure within the glass test tube-- a horrifying creature, seemingly morphing into a woman. Taking one step closer, Vincent could feel something staring at him; only it seemed to penetrate beyond his visage, intruding upon his mind.

Jenova...?

The singular eye glared daggers into the wounded gunslinger, clearly aware of his intentions. Momentarily startled, Vincent tensed when Jenova laser-focused on him, though unable to reach his mind in the same way as Sephiroth's, Vincent could feel the threat being exchanged. She was aware of the Vincent's intentions. Though unable to wrap her tendrils around Vincent's own mind, she had secured her hold on the man with silver hair-- his glowing eyes a testament of her power coursing through every cell in his body. There they both stood-- mother and son. Sephiroth had been made in her image. A beautiful yet horrifying creation. To Vincent, Sephiroth would always be the son of Lucrecia, and he had her likeness. However, it was clear even Jenova was attempting to overwrite Lucrecia's affiliation in every way. Jenova was a wolf in sheep's clothing. But Sephiroth was far too gone to even be remotely receptive to logic. Deep inside, Vincent knew there was little he could do for Sephiroth now. Jenova's claws were deep in Sephiroth's mind. But could he give up on the son of his beloved woman...? The only thing in this world she would have lived for, had she been given the chance to be a mother? I cannot... Trying his best to ignore Jenova, Vincent focused his attention on Sephiroth, noting how his aura had also significantly changed to something akin to Jenova's. It sent a cold tremor through his chest. Sephiroth had become... a monster. The blood of the village was on his hands, and sooner or later, the entire planet could be in danger. The boundaries of Sephiroth's hatred for humanity... just how far would he go to exact his revenge? Had Jenova completely erased every fragment of Sephiroth's humanity left? "....Sephiroth," Vincent called to Sephiroth with a slightly mournful tone, ignoring the pain still throbbing in his chest. "The village... the people. What have you done?" He shook his head in disbelief. "No... this isn't you. It's..." His eyes locked with Jenova-- The source of everything. Tensing his clawed talons at his side, a mixture of anger and regret filled his chest. Though he was responsible for allowing Sephiroth to become who he was now, he was up against an entity that had effortlessly puppetted Sephiroth. Vincent found himself justifying Sephiroth's actions as that of Jenova's doing. A stern glare played over Vincent's brow as his eyes drilled against Jenova's distorted figure. He despised her. He despised Hojo-- the man who was all too eager to integrate her into Lucrecia and Sephiroth. He despised himself... Suddenly, Vincent heard heavy footsteps coming from the hallway behind him. They were hasting towards this chamber. Alerted, Vincent broke away from Sephiroth's line of sight and quickly hid himself behind one of the mako pods; the footsteps quickly arriving to the base of the chamber where he once stood. "Sephiroth!" Came the voice of a young man belonging to SOLDIER. "Why did you kill the townspeople? Why did you hurt Tifa? Answer me, Sephiroth!" Vincent peered around the pod, seeing a young man with black hair and a massive sword drawn in his hand.

[aonemanarmy]

@kyouminaine

[aonemanarmy]

Engrossed as he was in the moment Sephiroth scarcely noticed Vincent's unceremonious arrival. It hardly mattered to him in the first place since the man was no real threat and whatever the ex-Turk thought he could do wasn't worth humoring anyway. The only important thing in Sephiroth's world in that moment was Jenova and she held him all but spellbound, her presence so captivating it was difficult to pull one's attention away from her.

It has been too long my child.

The sound of Jenova's voice was filled Sephiroth's mind more clearly than ever before and he could swear that he had heard that same voice calling out to him in his dreams. As a very lonely and isolated child he longed to have someone – anyone – to reach out and to comfort him, to save him from the pain and suffering he had to endure, but no one had ever been there. Now, he had finally found someone that sought to help him, to free him of the agony that plagued his existence for so very long.

“Now that I have found you everything will be as it should be,” he readily carried on the conversation with the voice that echoed through his thoughts making it seem as if he were talking to himself in the depths of his own madness.

If only things had been that simple.

However, their conversation was rudely interrupted by the sound of Vincent's voice filling the air breaking the otherwise chilling silence that lingered long after Sephiroth's words melted away into nothingness. The ex-Turk's voice almost echoed around the room and Sephiroth was no longer able to ignore the other man's presence, the gunman seemingly determined to continue making himself a thorn in Sephiroth's side.

So, he has come too.

Within the tank Jenova's lidless eye appeared to focused upon the intruder to their little reunion. The subtle shift in appearance could've easily be chalked up to a trick of the light or the slowly spiraling air bubbles that flowed throughout the tank, but there was no denying the feeling of a piercing gaze spearing through the man in crimson.

“I had thought you would remain sleeping where I had left you.” Sephiroth turned his head, his eyes glowing brilliantly in the darkened room. “Have you not yet learned your lesson? Mother and I have much to discuss.”

What conversation could be had with a preserved corpse would've been impossible for anyone else to comprehend, but Jenova was a master at deception. It was what had allowed her to survive throughout the ages regardless of the harsh conditions that would've caused any other life form to perish, but not her. She was ancient when this world was young and long after it died she would remain and move onto countless others just as she'd always done. The only difference was that this time the foolish creatures of this world had granted her a child of her own, one which she could use to bend to her own will and fulfill her true purpose.

He is unimportant.

“Yes,” Sephiroth readily agreed, his attention shifting back to the tank before returning to Vincent. “Leave. I will not have anyone try to separate us now that I have finally found her.”

The more Vincent pushed himself, the more his wound screamed at him. Mount Nibel was no easy trek, even for someone inhuman as Vincent. The sharp edges and cliff-sides acted as warnings for all who dared to pass through. Even though there had been bridges and ladders created for access to the Reactor, several of them were aged, and one in particular was already broken. It was the main passage way. The urgency grew as Vincent looked up towards the Reactor. He couldn't tell what was actually taking place, but every cell in his body was screaming for him to make haste.

The bridge had broken fairly recently, which meant Sephiroth had gone another. Though Vincent couldn't remember all that happened during their fight, he did recall the inhuman movements Sephiroth managed to pull off. Though both men were far removed for humanity, Sephiroth possessed much more power than him. And being wounded, Vincent had very few options. Turning into Galian would possibly allow him to cross so he could climb the walls, but doing so would also be a huge risk to his sanity. He would be forced to scale the rocks. His armor proved to be useful while climbing the sides of the mountain, but the cut across his chest had been so deep that at some point, it was even painful to breath. There was no doubt Sephiroth had sliced through his lungs as well. But he had been through more pain than this. He could endure. He had to. Once he had managed to get up on a ledge, Vincent paused and looked into the canyon towards the small village of Nibelheim. He could see what used to be homes now become piles of ash, the water tower toppled over, and the distant screams of the survivors mourning their loss. He could see Shinra Manor standing un-touched at a distance, creating a strange feeling in his stomach. Sephiroth could have easily burned the building down along with him. And yet he didn't. Instead, it would forever look down into the lowly village, the cries of innocence would sooner or later be filled in the Manor's basement. And if he didn't stop Sephiroth now, who knew how many more lives would be taken? Finally, Vincent arrived to the Reactor, seeing the mako-colored lights giving it an eerie glow. He could sense a dark presence emanating from the Reactor the closer he approached. Sephiroth was certainly in there, and likely what he also felt was Jenova. As Vincent made his way through the Reactor, he saw several dead bodies of monsters scattered about, cut down by a single strike of a sword. It couldn't have been anyone else. As he drew closer to the center chamber, Vincent felt a dreadful darkness saturate the environment. He thought he could hear a woman's voice, but he couldn't make any sense of the voice or if it even belonged to a woman. It was more of a whisper. And that a very Cthulhic one. Pausing at the steps, Vincent looked up towards the massive metal arch-- the foreboding name of Jenova was engraved in large letters; the entire reactor designated as her prison. Sephiroth had to be close. Stepping through the door, Vincent staggered through, his gaze meeting several massive tubes leading up to a single test tube at the center-- the tell-tail color of mako illuminating the entire room. And there standing before the glass tank was Sephiroth. He was engrossed with the figure behind the glass, oblivious to anything around him. The Ex-Turk had never been allowed to venture so close to Jenova, and there was a small part of him that feared what she was. Seeing Sephiroth so close to Jenova made the gunslinger to dread for Sephiroth's sake. But he didn't know why. Vincent took a step forward. "Sephiroth!" Vincent called out as loud as he could, feeling his lungs tear slightly, causing him to grip his chest where the wound was still visible. Whatever Sephiroth was about to do, carnage was eminent.

[aonemanarmy]

“I wonder how much of me is missing, even forgotten.”

— Channing H.M (via de-morte)

[aonemanarmy]

[aonemanarmy]

Cloud vs Sephiroth (Advent Children) ⤿ “Tell me what you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away.”

[aonemanarmy]

Time seemed to slow as Sephiroth made his way through the doorway and up the path leading to the looming metal figure. It was almost surreal how after so long he was at last face to face with the woman he'd sought out his whole life, the one that Hojo and even Professor Gast had lied to him about from the very beginning. Sephiroth was convinced that they'd done so to bend him to their will, to make him docile and compliant, but also to protect themselves from any backlash. It was typical of their kind to do things for their own benefit to the detriment of everyone and everything else, but hiding his mother from him was unforgivable.

There were many things he would never be able to forgive humanity for.

Reaching out a hand Sephiroth gently, almost tenderly caressed the cheek of the metallic figure. Despite still wearing his glove he could feel a strange, almost otherworldly chill through the leather beneath his touch. It should've been alarming, yet another sign that something was seriously wrong, but Sephiroth was too far gone to heed those warnings or those that came from the scraps of sanity that might've remained within him.

“I searched for you for a very long time,” he began, continuing to trace his fingers over the featureless mask that gazed at him with hollow eyes as dark as open pits. “They told me countless lies about you and kept you from me, but no more. I will not allow for them to keep us apart any longer.”

The gentle touch transformed into something considerably more violent, as Sephiroth brought up his other hand and wrapped his fingers around the figure. Then, with a horrific shriek of tortured metal and sparking wire Sephiroth ripped the metal figure free, casting it aside to tumble into the yawning abyss stretched beneath the walkway where it disappeared from sight. With the final barrier between them removed Sephiroth at last gazed upon the true form of Jenova, his mother, in all of her splendor.

A large, glass tube filled with a translucent fluid was unveiled, one of a size that easily dwarfed even Sephiroth in size and that sat in the center of the room like some sort of bizarre decoration. However, the horrific nature of it lay within, where a vaguely humanoid shape sat suspended like a specimen in a jar. It was an apt description, since that was what Jenova was, but that indignity didn't detract from her presence and the calming effect she had on Sephiroth, soothing his rage with her soundless voice and crimson gaze.

It was all he could've wanted.

Blue of flesh and surrounded by splashes of brilliant pinks and reds, the creature could hardly elicit comfort in anyone sane of mind that would gaze upon her. She was only human in shape in the most abstract use of the term, since everything else about her was misshapen and twisted like one of the gods sought to craft a human from clay but lost interest halfway through the process. As such, she lacked any distinct limbs and was little more than a floating eviscerated torso, her organs floating around her like strange flowers.

The most human part of her was the creature's head, which resembled a woman's face framed by long flowing hair. One of her eyes peered at him from beneath a steel helmet which had been stamped with her name, declaring her a possession of Shinra – just like him. Her other eye was lidless and watched him with a cold and calculating intelligence from its position upon her right breast, almost as if it were judging whether he was worthy of her attention or not.

Sephiroth studied the figure, drinking in every morbid detail as a small smile touched his lips and he lightly stroked the cool glass. He'd finally found her and no matter her distorted shape or appearance he knew that she was his mother, since every fiber of his being proclaimed it to be so. It was the happiest moment of his life.

I've been awaiting your arrival.

The cave was dead silent, save for the occasional drops of water from the ceiling, creating echoes through the adjacent chambers. The man in crimson lay motionless; the blood beneath him already dry. He appeared as one dead. And had he a choice in the matter, he would have counted it a mercy. But rest would never come to him.

A sudden jolt of foreboding tore through his body, forcing his heart to beat again. The voices of people suffering were calling to the monster; beckoning for release from their torment. Lives were being claimed, one at a time, invigorating the monster who craved their turmoil. The Chaos within him would never allow Vincent to join the Lifestream, so long as their souls were one. His mind raced, and his heart began to beat once again, the call of tormented souls forcing the wounded gunslinger to once again join hands with immortality. Slowly, his eyes opened, immediately feeling the environment had changed. Something was calling to him, namely death and destruction. It was coming from a distance. Memories returned to him, and he grimaced slightly, once again shunned by death as he knew he would be. He struggled to sit up, the sharp pain in his chest reminding him of what had happened. The wound was only partially healed, but the sense of urgency could not be ignored. Panic filled his chest, but of what he wasn't sure. Pain wracking his body as he forced himself into a standing position. Something was wrong. And it was coming from the village. Gripping his chest, Vincent staggered as he made his way to an upper floor, espying a window. He refused to go through those front doors, having not done so in the past 20 some years. He would get a better view from atop. With much effort, Vincent exited through a broken window and climbed up to the roof, his lithe and agile figure enabling him to do so. But once he made it to the roof top, what he saw sent a chill of horror his spine. An ominous amber glow enshrouded the town, the flames claiming the lives of many. He could hear the screams of mothers, calling for their lost children; of cry of the elders, telling their loved ones to not enter their burning homes to save them. He could feel every single life breath their last. And he knew who had done this. "Sephiroth..." Drawn by the languish of many, Vincent managed to make his way to the village with haste, a small part of him hoping to at least spare the life of one or two. The flames burned against his skin, the fire occasionally singing his cloak, though unable to fully consume it as the cloak itself regenerated. Many lay dead within the flames, a few survivors mourning the loss of loved ones. One such survivor was a young infantryman, crawling on his stomach towards a house, calling to his mother.

Vincent stood in the midst of the burning ruble, the entire village slowly becoming reduced to a funeral pyre. Those who lived were barely alive, the rest having already returned to the Lifestream. What once stood as a beautiful happy little town had been reduced to sorrow and death; and he had contributed to their demise through Sephiroth's existence. The blood wasn't only on Sephiroth's hands. It was also on his own. His breath became labored as he searched the flames, trying to find any indication of Sephiroth's whereabouts, but none were found. He remembered Sephiroth saying he would go to meet Jenova, but as far as Vincent knew, Jenova had been removed from Shinra Manor long ago. However, his confusion was quickly abated when he felt a negative pull in the direction of Mt. Nibel, causing him to turn his attention towards the mountains. Another soul was weeping, impending destruction pulsing through his veins. Sephiroth had found her. Jenova.

[aonemanarmy]

well well well. if it isn’t my old friend, the dawning realization that i fucked up real bad

[aonemanarmy]

A seemingly endless barrage of stimuli struck Sephiroth's senses and swept his thoughts up in a storm of passion that he'd never thought possible before. All of his life his emotions had always felt so flat, dull, almost as if they weren't really there half the time. The only time he'd ever truly felt alive was in the midst of combat and he had thought he'd never experience anything else with the possibility of swaying him. Even now he continued to be drawn to violence, the yearning for it flowing within his very veins, but it was only recently he discovered that he could feel something outside of it, something that made him realize his whole existence wasn't merely trapped within a world of seemingly endless grey. And it had all been thanks to Cloud.

It was only Cloud that could grant him a range of experiences that gave a semblance of color to his drab world. In combat and right this moment the blond proved his worth, that he was the only one remotely close to being his equal and who made him feel almost human.

Sephiroth's nerves burned and snapped, practically singing with the sharp rake of Cloud's nails down his back. The action provided an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure and pain, which was something he hadn't thought possible not too long ago. Before he would've avoided all forms of human touch if he could help it, having learned early on that touch led to pain. But somehow, over time his rival had got him acclimated to the blond's touch and even had him welcome it whether it was pleasurable or not. As things stood, the pleasure far outweighed the pain and Sephiroth couldn't get enough of it.

It soon became obvious that Cloud was of a similar mindset as he clung to the taller man, seemingly desperate to hold on. The way that the blond's legs wrapped around his waist felt nice, the extra weight barely noticeable to the madman but showing how Cloud wanted him closer still. As if they weren't already as close as physically possible, but Sephiroth was hardly one to complain when he had the blond pinned beneath him and moaning like a common whore.

Beautiful.

Another series of scratches snapped Sephiroth out of his quiet musing. The open wounds wept a brilliant scarlet painting Cloud's fingernails and trailing down the madman's back, the color a sharp contrast to Sephiroth's alabaster skin. Sephiroth could feel each and every distinct wound and he reveled in the sensation, wondering how they would look later on, especially after he'd purposely delayed his body's ability to repair itself. Surely they would paint a pretty picture, but more importantly they would be a testament to the fact that he was needed, that he was wanted in a way that he'd never experienced before; that he belonged to someone else in a way that wasn't degrading or to his own detriment.

He actually wanted to be claimed that way too.

It would've been a startling revelation if Sephiroth was anywhere near being in his right mind, but for better or worse sanity had fled from him what felt like a lifetime ago. The knowledge may have still confused him on some level, but the depth of it would continue to elude him and in his shattered mind he would simply go along with things without much question. Things were simpler that way and so much sweeter too.

The sharp gasp of protest Cloud made was enough to tell Sephiroth that the other man didn't truly mean it. Sephiroth would never understand why Cloud continued to try to pretend as if he didn't want the same thing, there was little point in doing so. It was what kept the blond entertaining though, and feeling the way Cloud clenched down around him as Sephiroth stroked him was all the encouragement the ex-General needed to continue.

“Not enough,” Sephiroth corrected Cloud, smiling against the blond's hair. Cloud's words may have said one thing, but his body said something totally different and Sephiroth was far more interested in obeying the latter.

Alongside the continued rake of Cloud's nails Sephiroth felt the brutal sting of teeth burying and tearing into his flesh, the action drawing a hot welt of blood that painted the blond's lips. Before the madman could remark on Cloud's eagerness he felt the other man clench around him so tightly that anymore would've been painful instead of pleasurable, but it was just the right amount to leave Sephiroth gasping for breath and wondering how the blond remained so strong inside.

Sephiroth wasn't granted any real time to recover when his mind was suddenly struck by what felt like a tsunami. He could scarcely scrape together a coherent thought as Cloud flooded their shared link with a virtual flood of pleasure which combined with his own felt as if it would drive him insane if he wasn't already.

In this muddled state Sephiroth could hardly protest as his lips were claimed by Cloud, the distinct taste of copper filling his mouth along with the blond's tongue. Fortunately for them both he didn't really need to think in order to respond, his own tongue eagerly tangling with Cloud's between heated kisses. It felt almost as if this time it were Cloud that was trying to consume him, the greed in the blond's actions evident all the more in the way he begged Sephiroth to give him still more. And who was he to refuse him?

“Take it all,” Sephiroth murmured, his voice a deep rumble as he gave one last deep thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside of that tight heat and spending himself.

It felt like an eternity that he held the blond's hips locked to his own, each twitch of his cock painting Cloud's insides and laying claim to the smaller man in the deepest way possible. At the same time Sephiroth knew that in his own special way Cloud was doing the same thing, and Sephiroth wanted it it to happen. It was this wordless thought that he conveyed along with the steady stream of his own pleasure back to the blond, wanting the experience to bind them both even closer together.

After some time the spell that seemed to hold the two of them enthralled had broken and Sephiroth wrapped his arms around Cloud, before shifting their position so that the older man was able to lie on his back with the blond curled up against his chest. Sephiroth's movements were careful not to needlessly jostle Cloud and to try to maintain the physical link between them for as long as possible, just as he'd promised. Once they were properly settled Sephiroth moved a hand to tangle in Cloud's hair and run his fingers through it while the other traced over the smaller man's spine in silent admiration.

“You did well,”he softly praised Cloud, rewarding his rival with another kiss for his good work. “I would expect no less from you.”

It was hot, both his skin and the feeling between his legs. Each spot where Sephiroth touched him was like a bloom of fire, making him dizzy from how easily it robbed him of the chance to breathe or think properly. His nails dug into the other man’s flesh like claws in desperate hope for safety from this turbulent storm that Sephiroth caused in him.

Not just from the deep purr of Sephiroth’s voice in his ear, but the commitment to his words that followed with each deep thrust of his hips, Cloud had no choice but to cling to the older man like a lifebuoy even though he was the source of his sense of drowning.

Moaning as Sephiroth’s movements became rougher, Cloud drew more lines down his back. He wrapped his legs around Sephiroth as he welcomed the forceful snap of his hips. The man was practically plowing him into the mattress, taking full advantage of how Cloud’s body had fully accepted and stretched around him like a sleeve after multiple rounds.

It would be hard to say at this point if he had even fully recovered from their time at Gold Saucer’s hotel. Waking up to having a toy in him, Cloud didn’t know if his body had returned to normal or had remained in a slightly stretched state to allow Sephiroth an easier time pushing inside him. He was, after all, quite large for Cloud to accommodate. How they managed to make it work the first time was still a mystery, as was Cloud’s current state where it seemed that he had yet to properly rest from each successive round.

He should’ve been well on his way to passing out by now. His body and mind were both tired from the travel and the things they did in just the last couple days. Perhaps it could be said that he was well on his way to that state of unconsciousness, for Sephiroth’s relentless motions made it difficult for Cloud to think outside of what was happening in the moment.

The touch of Sephiroth’s hand on his erection made him gasp sharply. His attention was suddenly drawn to that place as Sephiroth’s fingers wrapped around it. In turn, his own muscles clenched down around Sephiroth.

He was still incredibly sensitive from his previous orgasm, and Sephiroth’s momentum was steamrolling him to his next one. Whimpering, Cloud tightened his legs around Sephiroth and dug his nails in his back deep enough to break skin.

“Too much,” he gasped, though he made no movement to push Sephiroth’s hand away. If anything, all his actions so far were invitations and embracement of the way the other man was tormenting and pleasuring him.

It wouldn’t take much for him to reach his peak once more.

In fact, it merely took Sephiroth’s words to send him over the edge. Fulfilling the other man’s wish, Cloud drew blood as he raked his nails down Sephiroth’s back. His teeth sank into the man’s flesh, just below his collar bone.

Though his face was practically buried in Sephiroth’s chest, the sound of his cry as he came could hardly be muffled. Tilting his head, Cloud gasped with blood tinted lips, “Kiss me.”

He hardly waited for the other man to make his decision and pushed his mouth against Sephiroth’s. It wasn’t enough to simply press their lips together, though, and Cloud opened his mouth to invite Sephiroth’s tongue to tangle with his own. The burst of ecstasy that came from his heated release could only be conveyed in the wave of thoughts and emotions that passed through their link. With it came the seemingly bottomless greed to have Sephiroth come in him once more.

“Fill me,” he begged between kisses, “That will be mine as well. I’ll claim all of it.”

[aonemanarmy]

@kyouminaine

I'm sure this conversation could happen somewhere in the timeline

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[aonemanarmy]

The flash of a monstrous form flickered over the gunman's form as Sephiroth watched him. It was as if he were catching glimpses of another dimension parallel to their own where the trapped beast was trying to break through and claim their reality for its' own. Yet, try as it might it appeared that whatever monster Hojo had chained within Vincent was unable to free itself, the ex-Turk too battered and broken to continue on even if he wanted to do so.

Emerald eyes briefly darted over the strange orb of materia in his hand and watched the color shift and change within it. Whatever materia it was it appeared to react quite strongly to Vincent, but its' use was hardly of any real concern to him now as he stowed it away in an open slot in his armor for later consideration.

He was ready to leave things at that when he noticed Vincent reach out a bloodied hand as if he were trying to touch him. Sephiroth wondered what was on the man's mind in that moment lost within the throes of pain and blood loss. Did the ex-Turk really think that after all that happened that he was capable of convincing him to spare the human scum that had tormented him? He truly was naive if he thought that were the case and Sephiroth felt disdain at the mere idea.

Without bothering to utter another word the SOLDIER turned on his heel and made his way out of the basement to take revenge upon the world that had wronged him.

***

At long last the time had come.

Sephiroth stood at the foot of the large steel doors gazing up at the familiar name that practically beckoned him to cross that final threshold to meet his destiny. On just the other side of that door he would finally be able to meet the woman he'd spent his whole life searching for, the one he'd thought that he would never be able to see. But now that was about to change and he could at long last look upon his mother's face and know what he'd been robbed of his entire life.

Reaching out his hands he threw the doors open with a jarring level of force, the groan of metal echoing throughout the reactor's interior. With that barrier gone Sephiroth at long last gazed upon his mother, who stood before him hidden behind an expressionless mask of steel. Her 'body' was woven into the shape of a limbless, disembodied torso strung aloft by a series of cables and piping in a mockery of seemingly angelic wings.

Hojo clearly retained his sick sense of humor.

At the macabre sight Sephiroth didn't feel revulsion, rather, he felt a growing sense of anticipation. He knew that just beyond that steel form was his mother and that once they were able to meet face to face then they would never be separated again and finally he would have someone that truly cared for him.

“Mother,” he called softly, stepping into the chamber almost reverently, not even noticing the reek of mako and formaldehyde that wafted around him in a blast of cool air. “I have come.”

The Protomateria had what looked to be a double swirling galaxy inside it, the blue light at first glowing at a steady pace; a soft sky-blue hue. The unique power it held churned within the orb; Sephiroth's touch seemingly affecting its flow that was akin to the Lifestream.

A pool of crimson lay beneath the gunslinger, his vision slowly becoming blurred. As painful as the wound was, his face was considerably placid. The length of torture at the hands of Hojo had rendered him familiar with pain, having been a candidate for testing just how much agony a human body could handle. Regardless of his extreme tolerance, it didn't stop his body from convulsing as it naturally was trying to spare his life. But what life was there to save when it had been consumed by the beasts now dominating him on a cellular level? He already knew this to be the case those many years ago when he first learned of his altered body. Part of him was content as he lay wounded by Sephiroth's blade; a sort of retribution had been paid. While Sephiroth couldn't out right end Vincent's life, he had granted Vincent a portion of his suffering. Though artificial, it served to comfort the gunslinger. Return to me all that you have endured.

All the times I could have dried your tears, or rendered a hand to aid-- nothing but silence.

It is my lot; my burden to bear.

You will rage. You will destroy-- to fill your hollow heart.

Because when pain is all you've ever felt, it no longer hurts.

And when the day comes, I will be there... to show you mercy one last time...

To grant you what has been robbed from me.

As Sephiroth drew closer, a surge of power sped through his veins, causing Vincent to shudder and cough up more blood. A figment of another beast cloaked his body-- the form of a terrible monster with sharp edges covering his body, a crown of thorn-like protrusions, wings of a demon, and eyes that glowed amber. The gunslinger couldn't respond. The monster had been triggered, but Vincent was powerless to control it. Chaos had stirred. The Protomateria flickered in Sephiroth's hand as the beast's image slowly faded away; the wound had stopped bleeding. With the Protomateria out of him, he no longer had control over Chaos; but this was something Vincent was still not privy to. Delirious from blood-loss, and the last bit of his energy being spent as Chaos had attempted to awaken, Vincent's vision waned. A figure stood above him; long hair-- beaming down at him with familiar facial features. His mother... There she stood. Her long hair tied back in a gold sash; her lab-coat complimenting her form. A tear was rolling down her beautiful face. Vincent lifted a weary hand, reaching upward to wipe away the tear.

"Lucrecia...." Eyes finally fell shut, and his hand met the ground beneath him, his body finally succumbing to the trauma. Though in a deathlike state, his Chaos genes would sooner or later reawaken him-- unable to be fully obliterated. Never allowed to know true peace. But perhaps it was only a matter of time for the both of them.

[aonemanarmy]

There’s A Good Reason There’s Blood On My Hands

[aonemanarmy]

Sephiroth half expected the monstrosity that Vincent had become to continue on the warpath despite the grievous wound that he'd inflicted upon it. The beast was impressive in its' sheer size and raw physical power, more so than your typical monster, but it still was a thing of flesh and bone. Watching the Galian attempt to attack again only to stumble and collapse on the floor told Sephiroth that the battle was done even if the beast refused to accept it.

It wasn't long before another plume of mist filled the air and the monster's hulking form was once more replaced by the battered and bloodied form of the ex-Turk. As he glanced over the other man's sprawled form he noted that the blow he'd inflicted on his other form remained, albeit to a lesser extent, but no less deadly. Judging by Vincent's appearance the man could still feel pain and at the moment he appeared to be experiencing a considerable amount of it, the way the man choked and coughed in a slowly growing pool of blood only confirmed it. Depending on one's perspective the gunman was either very lucky or unlucky to have survived the blow, but Sephiroth didn't bother to ask Vincent's opinion on the matter.

A flicker of faintly glowing light caught Sephiroth's eye though, drawing his attention away from Vincent to what appeared to be a strange orb of materia sitting a short distance away. As his eyes fell fully upon the orb he recognized the color as having been the light emitting from the beast's chest. It made him wonder why Hojo would force a piece of materia into the ex-Turk's body, but he supposed there was little point in trying to guess the scientist's motives.

Walking over to the materia Sephiroth bent down and picked it up, the small orb continued to glow faintly in the palm of his hand as he studied it. Truly it was unlike any materia that he'd ever seen before and its presence was enough to briefly distract him from the mental anguish that he'd been feeling, almost as if it had a calming effect on him. But the moment of distraction soon passed when he heard the clearly forced and painful-sounding chuckle coming from the ex-Turk.

Sephiroth looked over at the gunman wondering if now he felt even a fraction of the suffering that he had felt his whole life. It really didn't matter at the end of the day though, and as he walked to stand over the other man's prone form he wondered if he felt any regrets at all.

There was no need to bother with killing Vincent; the threat that the ex-Turk had posed had been neutralized and he had no interest in wasting further time on him. If the man wished to continue to guard a broken down ruin afterward or not he didn't care. All he wanted was to find his mother and see her after all this time, because she was out there up in those mountains and waiting for him.

“I'm going to see my mother.”

Every blow that was landed on either side only served to enslave Vincent's mind into utter rage. Galian's unquenchable thirst for destruction would be satiated, having been locked in his host for so long. Even with the painful blows from Sephiroth, the seemed to be invigorated even more. It fueled his rage. But the more Galian's rage was energized, the more Vincent fought against him. And this was evident in the glow of the Protomateria inside Galian's left chest. Unbeknownst to Vincent and the beast, however, Sephiroth had seen it as a target.

A sudden rush of pain tore through the beast as the Masamune pierced through his chest, causing Galian to stagger and freeze in his stance, seeing the blade deep inside his chest. With barely enough time to react, the beast fell to his knees, the blood gushing from his wound. Even though his cells were quick to regenerate, the power that accompanied the strike was enough to render the monster weak, and he could no longer retaliate. The metal tip of Sephiroth's blade had thrust through his chest right where the Protomateria lay, forcing the orb out through his back. The glowing blue and purple orb produced a glass-like sound as it made contact with the cobble stones, rolling to a stop, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Galian let out a ferocious roar, the pain ripping through his body. Infuriated by being defeated by a pathetic excuse of a wannabe-human, Galian attempted to lash out at Sephiroth, but all he could do was stumble and fall, groveling at the floor. His eyes burned against Sephiroth, aggravated at the fact he had been beaten down by a single blow. But his anger wasn't exclusive to Sephiroth. It was also towards his host who had played his part in slowing down the beast. After several attempts to get back up, Vincent's mind regained control and a bright magenta mist engulfed the beast.

As the light particles dissipated, Vincent's body had returned, bloodied and weak. There was a large wound on his chest. Not nearly as large as the one Galian had sustained, but for the slender male, it would have been fatal. Blood trailed down his chin as he choked, falling to his knees in a numbing pain. Both his cloak and leather shirt had been partially torn, revealing where the Protomateria used to be. Gripping a hand over his chest, Vincent fought to stand, but the pain had rendered him incapable of such a feat. He could barely breath. A mixture of pain and shock forced him to collapse, rolling onto his back in a pool of blood, melding perfectly with his blood-colored cloak. He stared at the ceiling. Though he couldn't recall what all had happened, the searing pain in his body was proof enough of that power.

The Protomateria glowed faintly at a short distance, completely unnoticed by Vincent.

Wearily, Vincent turned his head, seeing Sephiroth hovering close by, his blood dripping from Sephiroth's sword. As their eyes met, Vincent heard a new voice in his head. A new power. It sent a different kind of pain to his chest where the Protomateria used to be, making the gunslinger groan in confusion. His eyes glowed amber for a moment, and in response the Protomateria flickered. Another beast lay dormant within the gunslinger.

So this... is Jenova.

Barely able to speak or move, Vincent shuddered as his eyes rested on Sephiroth's mako-colored eyes, blood trailing down his lips and jawline. Even if Sephiroth ended his life now, it would do little but delay the inevitable. This was indeed the power he had felt when he first encountered Sephiroth in the library. The Calamity from the skies.

He forced a painful chuckle; the effort took most of the remaining energy from him, producing little more than a whisper.