#damaged doll

Chapter 6: Failure

Cloud stared at the white wall of the room, deep thought burying the vision and audio of the real world. His mako-blue eyes moved, glancing around the room at each answer or new question in his internal debate. He should be worried about himself, worried about getting caught for what he caused, worried that his snap may easily turn back on him, worried that he failed. Again.

He shuddered at the memory before swallowing it away. There would be time for that later.

Hojo brought this upon himself by publicizing that photo. Cloud did not mind it at first. No one knew who he was, so it wouldn’t change anything, right? But sending that image was a direct act against Sephiroth. Against his prince. The embarrassment, the worry, the frustration. Hojo knew the fallout that was coming. Hojo knew what he had over Sephiroth’s head. Hojo never stopped hurting his prince with images, or falsities, or lies. Lies about his queen, that weakened his prince severely. Cursed him with horrid memories at the idea of her alone.

But through all that, Cloud could not wrap his head around one detail: why is his prince…grieving? That was the best word he had to describe it. Grief. Conflicted. He’d seen grief before. He felt it when they separated him from his queen. But his prince made his hatred of that scientist clear before even learning his name. His blatant expressions of disdain glowed perfectly in memory. But now, his prince was so confused, so isolated, so frustrated at his…care, care for losing the scientist. Cloud didn’t understand.

He groaned. He should’ve waited. Hojo was useful to him as long as he kept handing small bits of information. That scientist convinced this company to use resources on teaching him what he missed. If it was anyone else, he would be grateful. Why was it Hojo? What else could Cloud do? That scientist threatened his prince in front of him. Every time he tried to shift through the muddy water of this situation, he ended back at the beginning of his thoughts, cycling through the same hell for hours: the scientist, hatred, grief, confusion. 

The scientist. Hatred. Grief. Confusion.

Suddenly, it hit him: something he should have tried already, something he hesitated due to the weakened state of his body. He bowed his head and closed his eyes, forcing his focus with the precision of a laser. His will muffled and blurred as he tried to weave through every being with the connection. He needed to find his queen, but too many in this tower had part of her. Of course his prince had the greatest connection, yet others distracted and pulled him away from his queen. The boy that saved him. A man with her mimic ability. Another man corrupted and rotting from the core, not yet but soon. And dozens, dozens with no significance at all but the minimal part they shared. 

SOLDIERs. SOLDIERs given her cells. Why did they have her cells? They were human. Weak, fragile, pointless. What did Cissnei tell him about SOLDIER? Their members receive mako treatment, thus the glowing green in their eyes? Mako was essentially filtered Lifestream. The Lifestream. The Planet. 

Yes, it made sense now, but it was no less cruel. His queen came here to save this planet from these people, and now they use her for personal gain and a boost in strength, simultaneously weakening the planet and her? No matter how many times he thought it over, only one conclusion was possible.

Shinra had her. Somewhere. He couldn’t find her from here, but he would one day. This company needed to pay, for both his prince and his queen. His anger hardened and strengthened his focus, pushing it past this city. Can I reach her? Can I find her? 

One flash, corroded and weak. For only a second, he heard bubbles rising around him, soft but encompassing all the same.

Then it snapped. His focus snapped like a twig from a sharp pain stabbing from the back of his mind. Damn it… He lost her. He didn’t care about his pain, about the tears in his eyes, or the sand-like texture running down his cheeks when he blinked them away, scratching the skin of his cheeks. He lost her. He Lost her. And he only had bubbles to make up for it. Bubbles… She had to be in water, or some other liquid. Was that her punishment from the Cetra? He was trapped under earth. Was she drowned in their waters? His teeth grinded at the thought alone. 

He needed to help her, but he couldn’t help her. Not in his current state. Her best chance was with her son, who did not even believe she was still alive. He wanted to explain everything to his prince, all he had to do was ask and he’d spill every last truth in his being. But last time did not go so well. He did not wish to put his prince through that again, even though he only had a vague idea of what happened. 

For now, he had no choice but to remain in bed, waiting for instruction as his mind kept circling his prince’s conflict with the expired scientist. How did he read that situation so poorly? He wanted to help his prince, not cause this. Every moment to himself was spent in that cycle: the scientist, hatred, grief, confusion. 

Until the door opened…

* * * 

Sephiroth met Angeal and Zack back in the offices of the SOLDIER floor. Angeal, thankfully, did not push about what happened, at least not yet. The three of them had incident reports to write. Each of their experiences needed to be documented as soon as possible, despite the questioning all prime witnesses were already going through and the statements less useful survivors gave. The higher ups realistically only cared about eye witness accounts and any unusual behavior to identify this threat and stop it in its tracks, if something this large ever happened again. Still, the Firsts wrote their separate reports, then informed each other on everything they learned through the evacuation. The monster, its OPTs, the specific orders it seemed to follow that were too odd to ignore. Then the patients, the few escaped scientists that made it into the rooms, and the bodies of unsuccessful lab technicians.

Once complete, however, Sephiroth tensed almost imperceptibly. He knew Angeal ran out of patience.

“What were you doing after transporting the patients?” Angeal asked softly, very conscious of the boy sitting nearby and the topics he should avoid as a result.

He took a breath. This was only the beginning, and he already had a sinking feeling about this conversation. “I was with a patient,” He stated blankly.

“Which one?” Curse him for his perfectly timed response.

The silver general glanced away. A few seconds of silence flowed through the room, the only exception was the air through the metal vents. 

Angeal inhaled, knowing the answer from the tense pause. “Cloud?”

“Did you question him without us?” Zack tilted his head. The boy really was a puppy, despite Angeal only telling the silver soldier this fact under a hesitant guise of secrecy, at least to avoid Zack finding out. 

Sephiroth shook his head before looking down. “I did not question him. He…” His silver brows crossed. How did he put that into words? He had no time to think, not with the way they stared at him. “...He tried to help. I lost track of time. I apologize.”

Angeal narrowed his brows. Sephiroth clearly swallowed whatever the whole truth was in order to avoid more questions. But the fact that Angeal could read him so easily only worried him more. “Maybe you should take the rest of the day off…” He suggested. “I messaged Lazard before you arrived, and he’s completely ready to allow it. I’ll even cook for you.”

“No,” Sephiroth denied, the suggestion alone converting anxiety to bubbling frustration from his chest. “We agreed to question him tonight, and I want this interrogation completed.”

“It’s not an interrogation…” Zack mumbled, genuinely concerned for what happened to the mysterious man.

“Sephiroth,” Angeal hardened, but he watched his friend steel himself against the coming suggestion. “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

“What does that have to do with anything.”

Angeal crossed his arms. “You’re exhausted.”

“I told him we will question him soon,” he countered. It was stupid of him to let that slip, but he did not have a choice now. “So we should do this before something else goes wrong today.”

The black haired man glared in frustration. He understood where his friend was coming from, but it did not justify these overexerting orders. Sephiroth needed someone to show him how out of place he was. “Why didn’t you ask alone?”

His inhuman eyes stung the mako-blues, but Angeal did not back down.

“If you are so concerned with getting this off your schedule, then why didn’t you ask him yourself?”

Sephiroth blocked his gaze with his bangs as he looked away. Again, he did not answer. He paused, completely silent, and even the hum of the lights silenced under his tension. He took a breath. “Lecture me later…” was the only phrase that faintly left his mouth. 

Zack glared at the command, but Angeal heard the plea in his friend’s voice. 

“You need to rest…” the raven haired friend pushed softly. 

Suddenly the door to the office slammed open, leaving the final First in its wake. 

The man in red was all but a red blur as he appeared at their sides in an instant. “I got your message-” He addressed their mutual friend before questioning Sephiroth without the slightest shift of a breath “Are you alright?!”

He only tightened his arms, his bangs still silver shields against the accusatory gazes. 

“We got out okay, Genesis,” Angeal explained calmly, accepting this odd situation as another normal reaction from his younger friend.

That didn’t matter to Genesis, they’d heal from any injuries anyway. He grabbed the arms of black leather and forced his glare to meet the silver soldier’s face, eyes scanning every imperfect detail. The knotting hair, the bags hanging heavily from his tired eyes, his skin flaking ever so slightly at the reduction of care, only truly noticed by his self proclaimed rival. “Goddess. What did you do to yourself?”

“Genesis,” Sephiroth countered softly, “all I need, is some sleep tonight.”

His eyes narrowed behind red bangs. “Don't tell me…” 

Sephiroth tensed at the almost analytical eyes. Eyes he did not wish to see again.

“Not yet, right? You have ‘one’ more thing to take care of?” He spat, frustration already digging at his features. “When will you learn how to take a real break?”

He sighed in an attempt to release some of the stress building inside him. “I only want answers,” He lost all the fight in his body. “Afterward, you may both lecture me in my apartment.”

Genesis glared, searching for any sign of a bluff in his friend, yet the eyes that stared back at him were tired but willed to push through one more assignment before passing out on his couch. Yes, at the rate Sephiroth was going, he wouldn’t make it through the first paragraph of their lecture before he lost consciousness. 

Good. He needs it.

“Then let’s go.” Genesis suddenly grabbed Sephiroth’s arm and pulled him along like a puppy, the silver soldier too baffled by the sudden decision to respond verbally and followed unconsciously.

“Wait, Genesis!” Angeal shot up and Zack followed. “Do you even know why you’re questioning this man? You know who he is?”

“Explain on the way!” He hardened against the attempt to stagger him or slow him down with, quite honestly, legitimate questions. 

* * * 

Until the door opened… and every First Class SOLDIER in this company entered his small hospital room, including the only apprentice. Cloud stared in bewilderment, ignoring the sting of already wiped tears on his face as they entered one by one.

The large, black haired SOLDIER entered first, the other one that saved him. The youngest of them told him the name. Something… angelic, he believed. Then the boy followed behind the mentor and waved at him. He waved back with an attempt at a small smile before dropping it as a red haired man walked in next, leading his prince by his arm. Cloud’s eyes hardened. Something was wrong with the man in red. Corroding. Rotting. So that’s who it was. He did not have time to do more than stare, because the moment he spotted Sephiroth’s eyes, his strict posture and formal speech returned. 

“What do you need of me, Sephiroth?” Cloud asked with pure loyalty, staring directly at his prince. Every First except his prince took a visual or mental step back. His forwardness and lack of a greeting threw them off.

Sephiroth took a breath, knowing this was normal at this point, even if the others still questioned this behavior. “We have questions.” He glanced at his comrades, “All of us have questions.”

Cloud nodded before forcing himself to move across the bed and take out the clipboard attached to the end. They did not question him as he scanned the documents, moving at least four pages over to the back before handing it to his prince. “Does this answer some?”

Sephiroth took the documents and scanned them. Every question Hojo asked and answered were written in his nearly illegible handwriting, his already sloppy handwriting multiplied by shorthand. Hojo wasn’t a medical doctor, so why did he know shorthand in the first place? He shook his head. “No. It doesn't.”

Angeal glanced over to confirm, and sure enough, all the answers were chicken scratch to him as well.

Cloud lowered his head solemnly, disappointed at his own mistake. “I apologize, Sephiroth. Ask what you need from me.” He kept his voice firm, despite his internal sadness. 

Sephiroth glanced at the others, who were all looking at him for permission, and gestured politely to the man on the bed. 

Angeal took the opportunity and turned to Cloud. “Do you think your memory is okay?” He wanted to ease the blonde into the more dangerous questions, not bombard him immediately. “We’re surprised you don’t remember your last name.”

“My memory is crystal,” He answered calmly, eyes still to the ground. “I never had a last name.”

“Alright,” the same First inhaled, going through some basic questions in his mind. “How old are you, then?”

Cloud looked up, eyes wide at the black haired man before looking to his prince for aid. He blinked multiple times as he stared, the nervous tic suddenly infecting him. He couldn’t lie to his prince, but if he answered truthfully…

Please, please, please don't put me back…

“You won’t believe me,” Cloud answered slowly, sinking his fear, lowly shaking his head. It was true. Their average lifespan was somewhere between seventy and eight years. Even his prince did not believe his true age.

Angeal crossed his arms. “Try me.” Now he gained the mako-blue slits, but the man was afraid. He loosened his gaze, trying to find the correct facts to convince this man that they knew he was different. He exhaled. “...We saw the eroded boulders when we found you. Eroded. Do you know how long it takes to erode stone?” Though if he was completely honest with himself, he didn’t know either. 

It seemed to convince Cloud, who hardened at the challenge, but not in defiance, in preparation. In… oh gods, in a defensive fighting stance, even in his injured state on the bed. He can’t lie to his prince. “...I was made over two thousand years ago.”

Sephiroth’s eyes widened. It tracked. The man claimed his mother came to this planet and formed the Northern Crater: which according to every archeologist, is over two thousand years old. He hoped this man just kept a very good lie, but with the way those eyes looked at him, it wasn’t a falsity. Who in their right mind would answer the question like that, if they wanted to be trusted? He was wrong. He wasn’t ready for this. He looked away from the blonde in an attempt to seal his emotions away. He wanted to leave, his conflicting emotions strangling his mind.

Instead of questioning the obviously insane detail, Zack focused on a different one. “Made?”

Cloud nodded, still staring at the silver soldier,  his voice clipped and scraping. “Yes. From the stone and glass in the north.” 

“So you aren’t human?” The rotting man in red interrupted. 

He gave the redhead a sharp glare and before he could stop himself- “Are you sure you are?”

“Real mature,” Genesis scoffed, but Cloud was serious.

“Go to a doctor and tell me you’re human.”

He rolled his eyes, ignoring the request from the outlandish claim. “This is preposterous,” He put his hands on his hips and glared at Sephiroth. “Is this still worth your time? Should I start lecturing now?”

“You want to know about his past,” Sephiroth spoke softly. “Then ask your questions.”

Angeal, realizing he was the only one on topic, turned to the blonde again. “How long were you in that cave?”

Cloud tensed, wincing at the memories. Cold. Dark. Agony. No one to hear his cries. No one to help. No one to speak to. Panic poisoning his mind. “Less than a year of my life is outside that cave.”

“What put you in there?” Zack, the boy that saved him, asked softly. He realized what his mentor was doing: slowly building to the real questions they had. 

Again, Cloud looked at Sephiroth with pleading, desperate eyes, shining in the fluorescent lights. He needed a way out. He needed out. Out of that cave. Out of hell. Out to help. Please, please, please… His throat tightened when his prince did not intervene, but he didn’t have a choice. He must answer. If his prince wished this, then he could not deny him. “...The Cetra…” the name left his throat through sandpaper, his voice faltering as his safeguards failed, slowly showing his emotions at nearly a fearful growl.

“The Ancients?” Genesis questioned, not giving the slightest care to the slight change in behavior. 

Cloud shrugged. He didn’t know what ‘the Ancients’ were, but the redhead took this as a challenge. 

“Oh, so you’ll answer their questions but not mine. I see how it is,” He grumbled, crossing his arms.

“It’s not about you.”

Genesis barked a quick and obviously fake laugh. “What is it then? Am I distracting? Like what you see?” He sassed

“Not interested,” Cloud spoke plainly. “I don’t know the answer to your question. The Cetra…” His fire extinguished as his fear returned. “They trapped me…”

“And what did they do to you?” He spat, completely ignoring his friend’s strategy even as Angeal glared with warningly wide eyes. “What did you do to them? How did you end up in that cave- did they throw you in?”

You monster! You bastard! Your fate’s worse than death!

Cloud’s chest tightened instantly, forcing his body to curl in on itself. His shoulders, his legs, his hands, his arms, all coiled to his heart. No! No, this shouldn’t happen with his prince! He needs to answer. He has to answer. 

“I-” He tried to speak, his voice thick with molasses and panic. Even the room spinning around him did not change his will, even as more ghosts screamed in his mind.

We thought you were different! What are you?!

“They found me-” This weakness cannot show now. He had to push through, for his prince. He vaguely saw the red and black haired First arguing between turns.

How many others did you kill!? How many more!?

“For my queen-” not a single sentence leaving his mouth completed itself. He couldn't see them from the blur in his eyes, the spin smearing his vision until only colors remained. He couldn't hear them, and he barely recognized the feeling of being grabbed, gloved hands on his shoulders with white and black claiming most of the blur. 

You’ll destroy this world! Both of you! We won’t let you!

His arms crossed over his chest protectively as they started shaking. He still stared at the blob of silver in the corner of his sight. 

Another.

“I failed-”

Another. 

He couldn't hear them. He saw the blobs move but he couldn't hear them over his nightmarish memories. 

Another. 

“I tried to-”

Another! 

Another!

ANOTHER!

He snapped. His memories claimed him whole, his logical mind failing to the horror of the past. His fear and panic ripped answers down his throat no matter how hard he pushed them forward. His prince. He failed him. He failed again. He should be past this. He should be past this! But he failed again! And this time, he failed his prince!

He rocked back and forth, eyes wide and unclear as a tainted mantra left his mouth, “Your punishment is forever your punishment is forever your punishment is forever your punishment is forever your-” He kept repeating the phrase, over, and over, and over, and over again. He never stopped, not even as the largest black blur rushed out of his vision, not at the squeeze of his shoulders from something new, not at his attempted thoughts. 

No… no… no…

The phrase kept leaving his mouth like he needed it to breathe, no matter what he felt grabbing or gliding his sides or what he couldn’t audibly understand at all. “-forever your punishment is forever your-”

Only when the silver blur moved closer, leaning in nearly half a meter away, did his sight return. But only to see the sight of his prince, every small hair, every eyelash, every poor of his skin. The perfectly slit pupils that his queen always adored. Cloud couldn’t stop the phrase, tears forming in his eyes as he forced his repetitions quieter. He needed to respect his prince. He can atleast force his body to at least do that, right?

“Cloud.” Only his voice was crystal clear, not a single sound muffled or meshed, a perfect focus point. 

His own admiration lurched forward with his body, moving instinctually towards his prince for forgiveness, even when he couldn’t ask for it. It was the first time his prince called him by name, and he couldn’t acknowledge it with his terrified body. “-forever your punishment is forever your-”

“Cloud, you need to breathe.”

His shallow breath followed the same curse as his lips, ignoring his commands for impulsive responses.

I’m sorry… My queen… 

You will never escape.

“Cloud, can you hear me?” His prince questioned, shaking his shoulders to pull him out of this cursed trance.

“-punishment is forever your-” 

I’m so sorry…

No one will save you.

His vision drowned to blurry brightness, not even his prince visible within the snow-like void. White like the first light he saw in over two thousand years.  

Please forgive me…

You deserved this. 

Please…

Suffer, you failed puppet.

“-forever your punishment is forever your punishment is-”

He couldn’t stop rocking or shaking or mumbling. He couldn’t notice the new hands on his body or the needles piercing his skin. Only when the chemical pulled his eyes closed and his body down did he finally feel relief, silently thanking his prince for the aid, even if he didn’t know who summoned the result. Finally, his phrase stopped as his body surrendered to the injection, and everything left him to peaceful, quiet darkness.

.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Note: Poor Cloud. Too bad I love writing stuff like this. >:)

Classes have finally begun for me. As such, updates will be much slower. I can’t make any promises for upload time, but I can promise the next update will be a pivotal chapter of Tainted Child. So if you read that one, I hope you’re excited. Thanks for reading!

Based on the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Please enjoy

Chapter 17: A Change on Command

“You need to stop ignoring your support materia.”

“You say that after every mission!”

“Because it’s still true after every mission.”

“I used a Haste spell!”

“Time materia doesn’t count and we both know tha. It’s too unreliable.”

“But I got the target!”

“You didn’t check on the crew or the integrity of the tunnel.”

“It wasn’t gonna collapse twice!”

“It can absolutely collapse twice.” Angeal sighed as Zack groaned loudly. 

“But what are the chances of that?”

“High enough.” 

A sudden chime pulled their attention from their home-sweet-home of Shinra Tower to Angeal. 

The First reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Black brows hardened as mako eyes scanned the message.

“What’s going on?” 

“The lab. Now.” Angeal ran down the hall, Zack stumbling as he followed. 

“What happened?!”

“It’s Genesis,” Angeal shouted back. 

“Any details!?”

“We’ll see when we get there!”

“Wait, you don’t know?!” 

The master and apprentice ran through the hallways and up the fire stairway to the highest floor they could reach. Angeal scanned his keycard at every opportunity but held the entrance open long enough for Zack to make it through each time. 

A Turk with red hair stopped them before they could enter the lab.

“Angeal Hewley. Zack Fair.” 

“Cissnei, you’ve gotta let us in,” Zack begged, hands clasped in front of his face. “I’ll owe you. I swear it.” 

“No one can see him. Come with me.” She walked into the lab, both SOLDIERs following on her heels. She only explained when the entrance door sealed. “Hollander’s still operating on him. It’s bad. Really bad.” 

“Cissnei, what happened?” Angeal questioned. “If you know something, don’t leave me in the dark.” 

Zack gave a concerned glance to his mentor. 

She stopped at a crossroads in the hallways and gestured to a corner. “See for yourself.”

Angeal couldn’t stop Zack from looking over his shoulder. 

The ceiling tiles dangled from wires and plastic supports. Massive cuts through all walls revealed sparking wires and bending metal. Burns marred every surface from either the damage done or the materia used. 

A battle happened here. 

“What was Genesis fighting?”

Cissnei’s simple answer shook them both to the core. “Sephiroth did this. And Cloud isn’t who you think he is. ”

* * * 

The small hotel room provided their first relief since escaping Shinra Tower. The two twin beds laid readily made yet sprinkled with the dust of rare use. Four walls surrounded them, the entrance door on one side, a bathroom door in the middle and a radiator under the decorative curtains on the other. Upon inspection, the brown curtains simply covered a plain wall for the illusion of a window behind. 

This would do. 

Sephiroth sat on the edge of the closest bed and let out a soft exhale. He didn’t realize how tired he was. Cloud was light and a bit smaller than himself, but keeping Cloud out of danger took far more of a toll on him than they could afford to keep up. “We spend three hours here. Then we keep going.”

Thankfully, Cloud stood at the entrance without discomfort or pain, a content countenance despite everything Shinra threw at them.  “May I help you remove your armor, My Prince?”

That sounded nice. One simple step before some proper rest, but he didn’t want to lose his protection before asking another deep question. “You said you could not use materia until I used it on you.” 

The man straightened. “Correct. I could not use or be affected by materia, with the exception of binding materia. I… don’t know why-”

“But my command, my intent, changed your abilities?” it was both a question and a statement. 

“To my understanding, yes, Sephiroth. It is the slightest explanation I can determine.” Those massive mako eyes stared innocently. 

He inhaled. They needed a goal. A location. An ally if one truly existed in this world. “Find my mother.” 

A moment passed. Cloud blinked, confusion bleeding into his eyes. 

Sephiroth repeated the command. This should work. It had to. “Find my mother. Calm yourself, and find her.”

Blond hair blocked his face as he turned away. “I can…try. I’ve attempted to find her before, but Midgar-”

“We’re not in Midgar.”

“-there are too many with the smallest connection to her. You are her only true son, yes, but there are connections in SOLDIER. Angeal is stable, Genesis is rotting-”

“Then look past them.”

Cloud swallowed, freezing in thought. 

Sephiroth softly placed a hand on the man’s back, watching the blond accept his touch. “Breathe. You can do this.”

The blond nodded, staggered breaths leaving his chest. Cat-like eyes turned away. “It may take a while, My Prince. I suggest you rest, and I will inform you when I have an answer.” 

Absolutely not. “I will wait until you have an answer. Do what you have to do.” 

Cloud’s dandelion of hair turned down as the only partner of slit mako eyes shielded under pale eyelids. A small straightening of posture and breaths becoming more even and predictable did not go unnoticed either. Minutes passed in silence before Sephiroth saw the slightest movement: eyes searching under closed lids as if Cloud was dreaming. 

Sephiroth couldn’t stay away or keep his thoughts under control. Could Cloud really find her? Would she come back to him, or would Cloud lead him to the one person he craved most in the world? Was his lifetime of denied longing finally coming to an end? 

Would she embrace him and protect him like he always dreamed of?

“please…” A whimper left Cloud, hands shaking and body strained. “Please…”

Sephiroth found himself thinking back to the hug Cloud embraced him in on the first night in the lab. How Cloud didn’t ask, simply offering the support needed. Sephiroth hovered a gloved hand over the shaking pair before easily covering both. He rubbed patterns on Cloud’s back and small circles with his thumb on Cloud’s hands. 

The frustration and desperation calmed a bit. 

Cloud took two audible breaths, slow and infuriatingly controlled. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. “She moved… She’s much closer… My Queen… She… Midgar…”

That wasn’t possible. 

“Yes… She’s in Midgar… She has to be…” Cloud’s hands clamped over Sephiroth’s, leaning forward with every muscle in his body defined from tension. “...Where…?!”

“Breathe, Cloud. Do not waste your energy on frustration just yet.” 

He curled, nearly folding into a fetal position with knees curling up on the bed. “Too many… Too many…!”

“Narrow it down. What sector?”

Cloud rapidly shook his head, blond locks whipping like a palm tree in a hurricane. “Please…!”

This wasn’t good. If hysteria claimed Cloud, they would not only be unable to find his mother, but it would be immediately more difficult to avoid Shinra. Sephiroth felt an instinct that couldn’t be his and followed it blindly. 

Cloud’s shaking stopped. The tension in the man’s body loosened and relaxed in Sephiroth’s hold. Yellow hair folded against the open chest. The soldier belt supported the side torso. 

Sephiroth fought the urge to rest and relax in the comforting scent of chocobo blond hair. 

“They’re dim…” Cloud leaned into the warmth between the leather. “My Prince, you’re… Stay… I know how far she is… Let me pinpoint her location…” 

“I'm here. Do it.”

Cloud inhaled suddenly, loudly, but deliberately as well. Then the man did not breathe, body as still as a statue. Silent. Unmoving. 

Sephiroth counted the seconds. Each tick of the clock. Each rumble of the heater. Each movement of the air. Each footstep down the hallway-

Seering. Burning. Screaming. Drowning. Creaking. Breaking. Crying. Bursting. 

Heartbeat. 

Heartbeat. 

Heartbeat. 

Midgar. Shinra. Metal bridges. Long white coats. Curved walls. Black sky. Glowing pods. 

A flower patch. A waterfall. A cool breeze. A woman. A hand on his cheek. A smile on an unclear face. A pull back. A lost touch. A hand reaching out. A woman fading away. A kind, fearful voice:

Sephiroth. Find me. 

Sephiroth was panting. He was squeezing the man far too tight. Every cell in his body burned. The air dragged heavily through his lungs. The world around them was finally acknowledged by his senses.

Cloud was grasping his arm, coughing brutally against the force of his grip. Sephiroth tried to let go, but every attempt led to Cloud nearly falling off the bed. Sandy tears left mako blue eyes, and Sephiroth watched every drop leave a precise trail of scratched pink behind. 

Cloud wasn’t letting him go, but Sephiroth didn’t want to let go. 

A few minutes passed with the blond in his arms before Cloud spoke softly, anger tainting his words, “She’s in a lab, My Prince… A lab in Midgar…”

“I know,” Sephiroth looked down into perfect mirrored eyes. But he wasn’t ready for the panic he saw. 

“My Prince, forgive me- I should be more capable- You shouldn’t go through that-”

“We found her, didn’t we?” 

Cloud shook his head. “I didn’t see anything to identify a location-” 

“I did.” Sephiroth stated simply. 

Slit eyes stared with equal parts horror and wonder. 

“She’s in Hojo’s lab.” He grimaced. “Formerly Hojo’s lab. In The Drum.”

“We have to…-” Cloud rapidly shook the sentence away, mako blue eyes wide and desperate. “My Prince, please, can we go back for Her?”

The answer came without a thought. 

Cloud nodded in relief. “Thank you, My Prince… I… can’t do it alone…”

Sephiroth said nothing, glancing toward the door instead. They could make it back to Midgar by dawn, in theory. 

His Cloud wiped tears from red cheeks, white residue of scrapes taking their place. Pale hands were still shaking. “We should go.” The choked suggestion came tiredly.

“No,” Sephiroth held Cloud’s arm. Cloud was his. His Cloud will listen. “You need to rest.” 

Cloud opened his mouth to protest but closed it softly and turned away, yellow locks blocking his face. 

But Sephiroth wanted to see Cloud’s face, the face of a friend, of a true supporter, of his mother’s creation. He found himself reaching and brushing the hair to reveal the ashamed expression. “I still want to test it.”

Cloud’s head tilted like a kind puppy. 

Sephiroth swallowed before clarifying, “Your proximity…” 

A shred of Cloud’s tension faded. “Even now, you want to…” there was a soft joy in his trailed off words. 

“We need to rest. Are you still willing to join me?” 

“Always, Sephiroth.” 

The devotion in Cloud’s voice overwhelmed him. Sephiroth turned away before suddenly feeling a delicate hand on his cheek and his sight returned to his Cloud. 

“Anything you need, Sephiroth. I do not wish to cause discomfort.” His touch lingered for a moment before he blinked and pulled back his hand slowly. “Forgive me…”

“You are always forgiven. Just… show me how our proximity occurred the first time.”

Cloud couldn’t help the smile from forming on his face. 

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To be continued…

Chapter List

Based on the prompt by @im-totally-not-an-alien

Please enjoy

Chapter 16: Reaction

Sephiroth stood in silence as he processed the words from the notebook in his hands. The stares of his traitorous friend and the conniving Turk burned into him as he finished the last page, the more practiced handwriting only cementing his understanding. 

Cloud was a killer. Cloud’s infatuation with his mother didn’t change that simple fact. Cloud lied, manipulated, and murdered with little hesitation if it meant defending and protecting his mother. 

Unknown to the Turk or the man in crimson, Cloud already used those skills to protect Him. Cloud did so without question, without consultation, and by the impulsive act, the bastard: Doctor Hojo, died by the very experiments the horrid Doctor’s signature authorized. 

Sephiroth’s eyes closed as a calming wave from the night before crashed into him. He found himself allowing it to soothe his body and focus his thoughts. 

Cloud freed him from Hojo. Cloud had not harmed anyone else since Zack and Angeal found the cave. 

But there were so many more Cloud could kill. So many his upbringing shredded his ability to raise a blade against by drowning him in trained loyalty. The violating weapon’s director. The obnoxious security director. That useless space director. And at the peak of it all, the president and the child who tormented him titled vice president. 

Cloud could free him. Cloud could free his Mother. Locate Her. Lead him to Her. 

The wave returned to the source as quickly as it came, leaving his decision on the shore of his mind. 

“This proves nothing,” Sephiroth announced. 

Genesis stood, posture rigid and prickly. “This proves everything he says is a lie.”

“Cloud’s story proves he does not know a critical location of the president’s interest. Something he claimed to know for a fact.” The Turk adjusted her sleeve. “That book is a confession to multiple murders and blatant disruption of justice. We, in the Turks, could make him disappear with a simple order.” 

Sephiroth fought the growl in his throat and the instant response of Do Not Touch Him. “You have no proof of those supposed murders. You have no records of the Cetra’s city death records. You would not bring me here if you had everything you needed.”

“This is a confession.” Genesis snarled. “Cloud claimed time and time again that he’d never lie to you. Admitting to these murders-” 

“Belief and truth are not the same. What he thinks is true may not be the case.”

“Sephiroth-”

The silver soldier turned to the door. 

“We still have questions for Cloud. He never bothered mentioning the heart pull or my lab results. He’s still hiding things even after all that time to write this scratch filled book.”

He heard the Turk jolt in surprise. A jolt compared to their usual calm demeanor, at least. 

“...That could mean the answers you seek don’t stem in his past. You partnered with a Turk who you hid information from. You call this ‘projecting your problems onto others’, don’t you?”

“Why are you so accepting of this?!” Genesis shouted. 

“I still have questions. And I will get answers.” He felt mako eyes burning against him. 

“What questions, Sephiroth? If ‘belief and truth’ are so different, what good is there in asking him anything?”

“It’s my decision, Genesis. Your method has done nothing but harm. You’re lucky your Turk didn’t cause irreversible damage to his psyche with that stunt in my personal apartment. If you need something to do with your time, find Angeal.” Angeal. The friend that always encouraged him to calm down, breathe, take a minute, and relax. This needed to end, regardless of his emotions. “I’m taking Cloud away from Midgar. We’ll return when I please.”

Genesis slipped into the hall, cutting off his path. “This isn’t you. Don’t you hear yourself?!”

“Stand down.” Sephiroth was keenly aware of the woman in the room and the man in front of him. 

Instead of merely obeying, Genesis drew the crimson rapier. 

Sephiroth never flinched, Masamune appearing in his hand as he launched forward, the blade slicing through the wall from the angle alone as it clashed against the other. The ceiling snowed before splintering and collapsing, the hall filling with drywall and debris. 

* * * 

Cloud sat rigidly still, his posture straight, his hair fixed, his hand held and crossed over his lap. The wrinkles of his prince’s uniform on his smaller form made him look like a child playing dress up to seem like an adult, every glance at his reflection in the tall glass of the greenery reminding him of that fact. His cane laid on the booth next to him, prepared for use at a moment's notice.

He heard the talk of curious employees and investigative visitors. He heard his prince’s name more times than he could count in contexts he disliked. Then came the questions: why he was here, how long until Sephiroth returned, what their relationship was, et cetera. Cloud refused to answer. These inquisitive people were of no consequence. 

The two Turks that approached were more than consequential. They were threats. The Turk with the messy red hair kept poking and mocking him. The bald one barely said a word, watching him behind black sunglasses despite the simple fact they were all indoors. 

Cloud swallowed the comments about himself, creative as they may be. 

“Do you do your hair like that every morning? Or do you just roll out of bed and ignore the obvious?”

As long as he took the offense to himself rather than his queen’s design, he could remain calm. He deliberately ignored the flicks and pokes into his hair. 

“Do you need an adult? Maybe one of us can buy you something in your size.” The Turk pinched the wrinkling fabric.

Cloud pulled away. Slit mako eyes remained forward. 

“Jeez. Hey, Rude, look! He talks as much as you do!”

“Hm.”

“Come on, man. Cissnei said you were easy to talk to even if they were all lies.” 

The corner of his lip twitched. 

A tune suddenly started playing, loud and catchy though neither reacted. 

“And sending us on a wild goose chase isn’t gonna get you in the president’s favor.”

“Reno.”

“What?”

“Your phone.”

Reno rolled his eyes before taking the device out of his pocket and holding it to his ear. “Yeah?”

Cloud couldn’t hear the other end, but he knew it couldn’t be good.

“...Right now?”

His hands scrunched the extra fabric. 

“...How long?”

He glanced around the room, noting every person with their eyes on him. 

“...alright. Understood.” Reno closed the phone with a snap. “Rude, looks like play time’s over.” 

The bald man nodded and reached for Cloud’s arm. 

Cloud jumped farther along the booth. “What are you doing?” He asked far too quickly.

“It’s time to go,” Rude answered, lunging forward and hooking Cloud’s bicep. 

Cloud tried to pull back. “I’m not going anywhere. I told you I’m waiting for Sephiroth.” His protest accomplished nothing but he used his free arm to grab his cane. 

“Come on. Upsy-daisy.” Reno grabbed Cloud’s wrist and pulled him to his feet. 

A shout of pain left pale lips before the blond registered the sound came from him. His leg. It didn’t heal enough to support more than his own weight, including his own resistance. He had no choice but to dangle from the Turks’ holds and yell, “Sephiroth!”

The suits weren’t even phased by the shout, walking the man to the elevator. They were taking him back. Back to his prison. Back to endless death. 

“Sephiroth!” Cloud shouted his prince’s name, fighting every urge to collapse as his mind travelled between the endless darkness, loneliness, and cold to the reality before him. The reality where onlookers and office workers watched his struggle and recorded him with their phones but did not raise a hand to help him. 

“This is a private matter. All who intervene will be detained,” the taller Turk announced to the crowd.  

“It’s not so bad, blondie.” The redhead mockingly consoled. “Just wanna ask you a few questions about your book.”

“SEPHIROTH!” Desperation and terror flooded his voice. If they put him on that elevator, he’d never be free again. Or worse, he’d only be freed if his prince perished, forced to wander the world with no purpose and no release of death. “SEPHIROTH, HELP!”

Once they were about a dozen steps from the elevator, onlookers noticed the severity of the situation, some thankfully blocking the way. 

“Hey, isn’t that the guy that hugged Sephiroth? What are you doing with him?”

“Those are Sephiroth’s golds! Do we get to meet him!?”

“Maybe if we help, we can get Sephiroth to do something for us!”

The crowd finally came to Cloud’s aid, but the elevator opened before they could make contact. 

This was the end for Cloud. It had to be. He’d never see light again. 

“SEPHIROTH!”

Shink!

The elevator buttons on the wall buzzed and zapped around the massive blade rattling against the wall.

The Masamune. A blade all recognized by the gasp of the crowd. 

His prince. 

“Shit.” Reno cursed immediately. 

Rude turned them around to address the crowd but suddenly came face to face with the war hero: Sephiroth. 

“Let Cloud go.” The dark words left his lips like venom, a single warning. 

Even Reno seemed to be at a loss for words, but the hesitation kept Cloud in the air. 

“You have no evidence. Your orders are based on nothing.” Sephiroth plucked his blade from the wall, the Masamune singing at his side. “Give me Cloud. Now.”

“Look, man, orders are orders. Let’s just talk about this-”

Cloud’s eyes never left his prince, but the movements were so fluid and precise, he could barely follow. All he knew was that in a few quick motions, his feet were back on the ground and the two Turks were separated with broken but not bloodied wrists. 

The crowd cheered. 

Again, his prince wasted no time, and Cloud found himself in his prince’s arms. 

“Hold onto me.”

His answer came before his mind understood the command or the meaning behind it. “Yes, Sephiroth.”

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Thanks for reading!

To be continued…

Chapter 15: The Book

True to his word, Sephiroth waited in his apartment. Cloud never stirred from the place on the coach. 

There was a problem he had forgotten in the wake of Cloud's trauma: both Angeal and Zack were busy on a mission originally assigned to him. Even at his call, they could not leave the mission without a critical replacement objective, like an attack on HQ or a meteor threatening the city. He didn't want Cloud to join him when he confronted the Turks, but Cloud had begged him not to leave him here alone. 

Obviously Cissnei was not an option. 

Every moment spent sparing Cloud handed more time to the Turks. There was no doubt in his mind the Turks knew Cloud murdered Hojo by now. It didn't matter if there was no actual proof behind Cloud’s story. Cloud would be far from the first problem the Turks made disappear. 

Sephiroth would fight to the death to protect Cloud for said accomplishment from anyone who dared look at Cloud the wrong way. 

“My Prince?” Came the soft, waking call. 

“...Let me see your leg.”

Cloud simply gestured to the exposed limb straightened on the sofa.  

Sephiroth brushed through the air and gently touched the mosaic scarring with the tips of his gloves, but his eyes remained on Cloud. 

Cloud winced almost imperceptibly, but enough.

Sephiroth didn't like it but he didn't have a choice. He stood up and exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. “We can't wait any longer. I’ll carry you to the sixtieth floor to wait in the break area. It will be harder for the Turks to move you without notice from such a public space.”

Blond hair rapidly shook side to side, eyes straight to the ground and a hand tightly gripping an open wrist. “Forgive me. Please. Don't leave me alone. I can walk with you. Let me test if-”

“Cloud.”

“Sephiroth, please-”

“Cloud.”

Now the odd man silenced. 

“This is for your protection, and my peace of mind.” Masamune appeared in his hand, and a swift click of the hilt ejected a single materia into Cloud’s lap, tiny rivulets sparking along the surface. 

“Materia in my hand is nothing more than a distraction. They’ll take me away- they’ll put me back-” Cloud dreaded, fingers clawing through perfect yellow palms. 

Sephiroth held the hands still with leather gloves. “I won’t let them.”

Cloud’s body trembled, slit eyes shaking against silver. 

Sephiroth found himself almost missing the absolute obedience of the man that kneeled before him at first sight. For a moment, he needed the obsession to overpower logical thought. “You are here. You are safe. Let me take care of this.” 

“...If that is your wish, my prince, I will follow.” The locked, tightly wound voice in order to sound neutral strangled against Cloud’s true feelings. 

“Rest. Sleep on the couches. Eat anything from the snack bar and tell them to put it on my card. The use code is eight-two-seven-zero. But if you are in danger, I need you to scream as loud as you can. I’ll be by your side immediately.”

“Understood.” Cloud stared straight ahead. “I’ll remain with the crowd until you return.”

But there was something else. Something nagging at Sephiroth as he stood and paced through the room. Something he needed to remove from the situation. He scanned Cloud again and again. What was he missing?

Cloud wore the clothes Zack and Angeal found him in back on the Northern Continent: the long leather jacket with all its wear and tear, the dark V neck shirt, and the black pants with the new perfect slice used to access and repair his leg. The degrading quality of the fabric would keep the public’s attention on Cloud, but if someone believed Cloud to be homeless, removal could easily be the Turk’s tool to capture him. 

Cloud needed to keep everyone’s attention if something went wrong, not an easy thought of ‘good riddance’ if he was taken away. 

Sephiroth caught a glimpse of his reflection in the main window of the apartment, his uniform draping like a cape around him. He disliked the thought as soon as it came, but there was no denying it as his best option. 

He rushed to his bedroom, pretending not to notice Cloud’s confused tilt and adjustment to see inside as he opened his closet. He grabbed the singular garment bag and carried it to the kitchen table.

Cloud watched without a word as Sephiroth unzipped the gray bag. 

The silver soldier unceremoniously tossed the coat to Cloud. 

Slit mako eyes scanned in absolute confusion through the leafed patterns of gold and the red shoulder drapes decorating the thick black cloth. 

“Wear that. I’ll help you if you need it.”

“My prince, what is this?” The curiosity in Cloud’s voice returned and Sephiroth felt a spark of relief. But within the curiosity hid the slightest recognition. 

“My Golds.”

Cloud’s eyes shot open and he dropped the clothing immediately. “Your formal uniform? My prince, forgive me, I can’t-”

“You will. This is for your protection.”

At nearly a whisper, Sephiroth met even more protest, “It’s one of a kind, my prince-”

Sephiroth deflected, “Correct. It will be recognized on sight. If anyone questions why you have it or what you’re doing on that floor, answer truthfully.” 

Cloud’s eyes hesitantly fell back to the ornate uniform, hands tentatively brushing the material. “‘Sephiroth requested it’.”

“Correct.”

* * * 

Fluorescent light shone pristinely in one of the most well paid departments of Shinra. The cubicles and meeting rooms displayed the employees as the average low class worker trying to make it through the week, hiding the simple fact this area housed the most dangerous and secretive weapon in Shinra’s arsenal: the Turks. Spies, informants, investigators. Very little involving the company escaped their gaze. 

SOLDIER was a bomb, incinerating everything in its path. The Turks were a precise dagger, stabbing through the weak points of Shinra’s enemies without hesitation or casualty. 

Including a suffering man tortured under stone for more than a millennium. 

Masamune hummed in his grip. He felt the constant shift of onlookers terrified as he approached and calming as he walked past. A crowd formed behind him as they realized his first target:

The director of the Turks; a tired man with brown hair and a scar on his cheek that he never spoke about. 

Masamune disappeared from Sephiroth’s hand. “Where is Cissnei?”

Brown eyes glared at the Silver Soldier. “That’s classified.”

“Breaking into my apartment is not a mission parameter. Neither is stealing my property or attacking my guest.” 

“If Cissnei, of all people, broke into your apartment, then she had good reason to.” 

Sephiroth tried to read the man’s eyes, to see a mistaken glance in her direction, but the Turks were trained to never give up such information intentionally or by accident. “I can have all of SOLDIER march in here and hold up operations until you tell me what I want to know.”

“You’re not the director,” the Turk countered. 

“You’re right. I'm worse.” Sephiroth stepped close, hands placed on the desk as he glared daggers into the director. “I’m their hero.”

When his own words reached his ears, Sephiroth wanted to cringe. Why did he say that? Why did he even think that? He hated the unearned title of ‘hero’. He didn’t want to use men loyal to him as his personal weapons. 

He forced himself to throw away the emotion until Cloud and the book were safe. 

The Turk Director glared, reaching slowly and flipping open his phone. 

Sephiroth waited for the call and the ring. A risk, of course, considering his threat, but he’ll know for sure when someone answers the call. 

The phone rang three times before disconnecting, not even giving the option for a voice mail. 

“No answer.” The director snapped the phone closed. “I apologize for the inconvenience. She’s under strict order to answer my calls unless she’s on a mission."

Sephiroth nearly growled. “You’re telling me the invasion of my home was a sanctioned mission?”

The turk hardened his glare. “I believe it was a necessary piece of her mission. And I will not demand her presence until I know why she did it.”

Rage built in the back of his throat.

Are you prepared to start a war with SOLDIER?

The silver soldier flinched at his own thought. He took a step back. An internal battle wasn’t worth it. He knew that. It wasn’t an option at all. Finding Cissnei would mean nothing if he left this room in chains, trapped in Hollander’s lab as punishment.

As much as he hated Hojo, he understood Hojo. He didn’t know what Hollander would do to him or the reasoning behind it. 

Sehiroth swallowed hard. He didn’t attempt another word as he turned and walked back the way he came, afraid his threat would leave his lips with or without his intent. 

But he wanted Cloud safe. He needed Cloud safe. Where could Cissnei have gone? If Cloud wrote anything about even tangential involvement in Hojo death…

He glanced at his phone, checking the time. One hour. He’d give himself one hour to find her. If unsuccessful- Sephiroth hoped it wouldn’t come to this- if unsuccessful, he would take Cloud somewhere safe. Away from the Turks. 

Which meant away from Midgar if it came down to it. 

But distance required time. 

What time did Cissnei arrive in his apartment?

He stopped in his tracks. Cissnei arrived an hour into his outing with Genesis according to Cloud.

He wanted to be wrong. He knew his crimson friend did not like the man, but this was too far. He opened his phone, tapped Genesis’s icon, and held the device to his ear. 

It rang once before he cancelled the call and shoved his phone in his pocket. If he incorrectly assumed involvement, he risked losing his friend. But if he was correct, he didn’t want to give his friend more time to plot against him. 

Sephiroth walked straight to the elevators, deliberately clicking the desired floor. 

* * * 

The SOLDIER department was shifting and murmuring in the soft morning light. Cadets and officers wandered the halls, but no one of higher rank presented themselves. 

Sephiroth searched every inch of the floor, from the basic closets to the possibly large enough to fit a small person vents. But no one was there. Every stone he turned both disappointed him and somehow frustrated him. By the end of SOLDIER’s search, Sephiroth nearly dented walls with how he haphazardly tossed desks and shelves and other potential hiding places. 

Neither Genesis nor Cissnei were here. 

Where would those two go? He thought he knew Genesis, but the Turk presented a wild factor he wasn't prepared for. 

Maybe he was asking the wrong question. Where wouldn’t he look? Where would he assume they already vacated?

…Genesis’s apartment, right next to his own. Right next to the crime scene he returned to. 

Sephiroth ordered an officer to inform him if Rhapsodos was next seen on the floor. The officer stood in a painful salute. The only words of affirmation reaching the air were ‘yes’ and ‘sir’.

As the reflection of the terrified officer reflected off reptilian eyes, Sephiroth realized he needed to calm down. He was supposed to have absolute control over his emotions. To be Shinra’s weapon, he had to, no matter the order he was given to follow. 

Today, now, with his friend likely betraying him and a Turk invading his home as well as attacking a man under his protection, a man who had done nothing but support him since arrival at HQ, Sephiroth did not care. But the greater time spent searching for them, the more likely Sephiroth would do something he’d regret. 

Returning to the First Class apartment hall, the silver soldier deliberately walked past his door. 

Genesis enjoyed decoration, and even the door of his apartment that could easily be stolen or damaged by a First or a guest was no exception. A red and black mat with curly font displayed the word ‘welcome’. … … 

Sephiroth waited, listening deeply for any movement: a door opening, a chair sliding, a single breath, an untameable heart beat. 

No one was in the apartment. 

Felt the growl in his throat but made no effort to silence it. 

Where were they? Where would he never check?

The Turk used Cloud’s trauma against him; the table to simulate the boulders, the darkness to simulate the cave, all for the sake of preventing Cloud from going after her. 

Where would he never check?

Sephiroth held a fist against the door as he ran through all possibilities. He hated the public, but Genesis would encounter the same ambush of paparazzi as he did. Not exactly acceptable in a stealth operation. He wouldn’t search the office floors, but he was sure Genesis would still be caught by some fan and his friend’s location would be visible within the hours he spent with Cloud. 

Where would he never check where no one would spot them? 

High security clearance floors were an option, everything 60 and above. He already checked the Turks’ main office. He had no desire to go back, but the director’s call to Cissnei should keep her away from her own department for a while. The President’s office is highly secure, but there’s no doubt in his mind they didn’t have the time to pull something like that off. They’d need something that directly impacts the president, and they would need to prove the executive conference room was unreliable. 

Where would he never check with the security they need? 

The lab. 

It had to be the lab. 

His heart stirred with dread as he made his way through the tower, ready to face any dragon in the way between him and Cloud’s book. 

* * * 

Despite the recent massacre, the cleaning crew restored that awful sterile smell Sephiroth despised. Unlike the SOLDIER floor, scientists buzzed through the halls, barely looking up from clipboards as they discussed some new experiment. 

Every instinct told him they were here.  

Any room a scientist opened, be it an observation room or cell, he ignored. He marched through the winding caverns of the lab, opening and scanning every unused door with a quick clicking of his PIN. A nagging feeling told him one specific room was their hideout, but he hoped with the tiniest thread of care that his friend would not force him to enter, regardless of the Turk’s ideas. 

He was wrong, because this was the door to his childhood room. He remembered the storage crates left behind when Hojo had his bed removed as punishment for some pointless, defiant act. He knew the plane walls. He knew the light in the back left corner never worked quite right, flickering every five minutes. 

His former friend had the crimson Rapier poised against his throat the moment the door opened. That was new, as was the red haired girl in the corner who took photos of Cloud’s pages with each flash from her smart phone. 

Masamune appeared with a puff of purple magic, Sephiroth’s chin lifting just slightly at the rose blade. It didn’t matter whose weapon was ready. In such close quarters, a single swipe from Masamune would force the Crimson Soldier and thieving Turk to the wall. 

“Give me the book, Genesis,” He made his tone cold and stone to prevent raging fire. The Turk never once looked up from the pages. 

“Will you put your weapon away?”

“Says the man who drew first.”

Genesis scoffed. “I had to keep you here somehow. I’m not letting you kill the Turk for this.” Blue eyes stared at slit eyes before glancing away, the smallest strained inhale scarcely audible. “I apologize for the setting and the tactic.”

“Give me the book. Now.”

It took two more flashes from the small devixe before the cover snapped closed, the Turk holding it up in one gloved hand. 

“One condition,” His friend dared to speak, “read it here. Without Cloud. Right now. All of it.”

“Accepted,” Sephiroth felt the venom leave his mouth as the red blade lowered. 

Genesis stepped aside and closed the door behind him. The Turk held out the book as an offering. 

Sephiroth’s leather gloves wrapped around the cover as he leaned in and spoke lowly, “If you or any of your coworkers dare break my apartment again, I will dangle you over the president’s helipad.”

The Turk’s eyes twitched, but that single tell was more than enough to feel her fear. 

“Sephiroth?!” The question bled with confusion and surprise. 

He nearly growled as he glanced back. “I never said I’d let her fall.” From there, Sephiroth wasted no more time as he sat on the old crate and opened the first page. 

* * * 

My prince, for my delay in answering your questions, I will explain all my past. Please note that everything, absolutely everything I did was to protect my queen. Your mother. I can only hope you’ll understand.

I will accept any result you deem fitting. 

My first memory is the Northern Crater, mere days after my queen- now Jenova- landed on the Planet. I remember shining light from brilliant silver hair and great walls of materia blending into the sky. I remember the pool of Lifestream below her feet rippling as Lifestream dripped from my hair. 

My queen gave me a purpose that day: to protect her from all harm and suspicion. The creatures of this Planet would destroy it with no chance of life renewing. 

I'm ashamed to admit I was too distracted by my very existence first. I asked about my body, my mind, my abilities gifted by Her. 

She answered all my questions without judgement. 

Why I’m hollow: I already have structure. 

Why I thought I needed a skeleton: my soul comes from the planet. Mammals of this planet have skeletons. 

What is beating and breathing within me: my own soul of Lifestream is the fluid my body needs to mimic biological functions. 

Her words were gifts from a goddess. 

She explained the details of my task: to distract the Cetra- the ones you call ‘the Ancients’- from Her presence in the crater. That I must pretend to be the creature that created the Northern Crater. I was to stop anyone who dared discover Her by any means necessary. 

Due to my tempered Lifestream, my presence interfered with the Cetra’s ability to commune with The Planet directly. I simply needed to exist.

I alone walked out of the Northern Crater and met the Cetra scouts. At first, they aimed magic at me and questioned my past. I told them I was a traveller of the stars, and I simply wanted to research the Planet’s life before continuing. That comment alone calmed them, not enough to trust me, but enough to allow me near their city. 

Their scholars took an interest in me immediately. Warriors remained on my tail, much to the dismay of the scholars. They seemed more relieved when the warriors stepped down than I did. 

I didn’t mind. The more eyes on me, the safer My Queen. 

Thus I befriended the Cetra. The children were easy to enthrall with my copied materia creatures. I spent days observing the creatures of this Planet to increase the detail. Chocobos, dragons, wolves, et cetera. The elderly were more complicated, but simply being there to aid them softened their resolve.

They treated me kindly. Their curiosity of my existence drove this. No other reason made sense. I was new. I was different. I was interesting to them. I taught them of My Queen’s vision for the planet, but I never mentioned her. They taught me of their Planet’s functions in return. 

They taught me the ways of the Lifestream, how anything born on the Planet returns to the Planet. It seemed more like a fun fact than the torture it became. 

For a while, it was peaceful, my presence more than enough to fulfill my task. Over the course of a few months, even the guards no longer tailed me. 

Everything changed when Cetra travellers bore news about the Northern Crater and The Planet. The Planet’s cries tortured them from the very day the meteor struck the north. 

With the entire city hearing nothing of this previously, they prayed for an answer. As expected, they were met with the calm smoothness of my existence rather than healing cries. Did they not realize My Queen’s surgery was the only thing protecting this Planet? To heal such a massive wound regardless of knowledge of course caused pain. 

The travellers believed they were wrong. If every Cetra in their sacred city deemed the Planet safe, how could they deny it?

But as more months came by, and more travellers returned with the same message, my presence no longer protected Her. Then came the warnings of monsters. They claimed the two were related, but My Queen would not find use in such creatures. Fiends weren’t worth the energy and focus she could use for healing the Planet. 

My own emotions and feelings towards the Cetra did not matter. I would do anything for My Queen. She never asked me to do what I did. But She never warned me to stop either. 

Three travelers attempted to convince others, to encourage those who rarely left the city to hear the choking cries. Yes, choking was their word, but the exaggerated metaphor convinced two to join them. 

I waited until dark the night before they were to re-enter the city and spread the news. I approached silently. With a butterfly of ice, I led each member of their party to their own death. Not even their blood reached the city. 

I knew immediately this was not sustainable, but the Cetra were so easy to convince, I grew arrogant. Like every city, there lived a population known for trouble. All I needed was reasonable doubt. 

At least one group snuck through my defenses. 

I don’t know when they discovered my task. The night of my capture, I followed a lone sixteen year old girl who wanted to prove her father’s words true. The man was not mentally well, shouting about copies of everyone in the village leading him to monster dens and his slim chance of escape. She was barely outside the city limits, just beyond the lights of the main gate.

Everything I did, I did for My Queen. 

With her blood on my hands, everything went black. Every attempt to open my eyes left my sight barely blurry before my head fell again. The Cetra dragged me through the city on the cobblestone roads. My body hurt more and more with every attempt to wake. 

By the time I realized it was binding materia- constant sleep spells- I couldn’t stop them. 

The screams and pain of the Cetra. They didn’t understand. I had to. They never understood that by protecting My Queen, I was saving their planet. 

That didn’t make the lives easier to take. Perhaps if I wasn’t trapped in darkness for so long, I would be haunted by their faces rather than the cries of betrayal and anger that day. 

We thought you were different! What are you?!

Even a people as kind as the Cetra threw stones as they pulled me through the streets. 

How many others did you kill!? How many more!?

I didn’t want to take any. I hoped My Queen would finish soon enough. I grabbed them from behind and slit their throats with daggers because I didn’t have the strength to watch them die. 

Maybe that’s how they found me. Maybe one mistake, one cut just shallow enough, led to everything falling apart.

You’ll destroy this world! Both of you! We won’t let you!

But below every individual shouting their thoughts was the mother of the girl. 

I knew that girl. I knew that mother. They were both so kind. 

It doesn’t matter what I want. All that matters is my duty. I had to. I should have waited, but I would only delay the inevitable. 

The mother softly whispered in my ear through the northern mountains, repeating for hours. 

Your punishment is forever. Your punishment is forever. 

The newly opened cave only echoed her words until they tossed me down the pit. 

I wondered why they didn’t just kill me or torture me in the town. 

The Cetra priest spoke as cloaked mages stood at his side. 

You will never escape.

No one will save you.

You deserve this.

Suffer, you failed puppet.

The magical staves began to glow. The first of the boulders formed in the last light I saw for centuries. 

Your punishment is forever. 

The first boulder crashed into my chest. The sleep spell shattered with the pain. The second struck my right leg. I felt the crack. I remember how it ricocheted through my body. How my scream crackled. How my body tried to flex and flee. 

Another. 

The mages continued with every word from the priest. 

Another. 

It hurt. 

Another. 

I could barely form thoughts. 

Another!

I couldn’t ask for forgiveness.

Another!

I couldn’t speak.

ANOTHER!

It must’ve gone on for hours, filling the cave all the way to the entrance from what my savior- Zack Fair- told me.

I screeched as the last of the boulders struck. 

I wanted to be crushed that day. I wanted to die.

No soul not of this planet can enter the planet. No soul not of this Planet can die. But by all technicality, I am of this Planet. I have Lifestream in my veins. I am stone and glass of the north. I had the option to die. 

My Queen did not.

I had to contact My Queen. I had to warn her they were coming. But against my pounding heart, rapid breaths, and failing body, not a single word went through. 

I forced myself to stay alive for Her. 

I felt Her commands. I felt her tearing my heart to pieces to pull me to her side to protect her. I felt her panic as more and more Cetra closed in. 

Then my heart drowned. I never thought I’d hear another word. 

The endless darkness tricked my eyes. Reality and nightmare became impossible to separate. 

…

I apologize, Sephiroth. I don’t have the heart to recite the details. 

I truly had no idea how long I was there. 

I begged for help every moment- awake or asleep, conscious or unconscious, I’m not even sure. 

It was a defense, not being able to communicate with My Queen when panicked to prevent giving any information about Her away. But since I never truly calmed, I never reached Her.

Only once did I feel Her without broken attempts to reach Her first. 

Only once did I feel joy in that prison. Relief. A change. A beautiful change. 

I didn’t know details. I only knew the word prince, projected into my mind as clear as the sky.

For a single moment, I smiled. Her goal to protect planets across the cosmos would not be done alone. She had you. But no sooner was I struck with the darkness around me and the weight crushing my every limb. 

Then the boulders lightened. Ever so slightly at first. I heard calls and prayed they weren’t monsters. The weight kept lessening, yet I never ceased my calls for help. 

Zack Fair saved me. Angeal Hewley aided him. And the next thing I remember is waking here. 

The rest you know. 

I acknowledge my thoughts are scattered throughout these pages. I know no matter how many details I add, you will have questions. Please do not hesitate to ask. I’ll be here, Sephiroth. Whether you’re ready. Whether you’re not. 

I’m here.

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To be continued…

Thanks for reading!