A/N: One more thing before the end of the evening, because I can’t get FF7 out of my head right now.
“Tell me what
you cherish most. Give me the pleasure of taking it away.”
There are things
Cloud cannot put behind him. The guilt over failing his friends, of watching
them go to their deaths, of being unable to change their fates. It is an itch,
a constant reminder of his flaws, and perhaps now strong motivation to move
onward with his life. If Cloud Strife is going to be a living legacy, he needs
to go beyond simply surviving.And for perhaps
the first time in a long time, there’s this anger in his chest. Something more
than indignation that a boy like Denzel has to carry the Stigma, that thousands
of innocent kids have to suffer for no goddess-damned reason. Because as much
as Cloud can blame himself over and over again, he knows he’s looking at the
root of the problem. Instead of keeping his mouth shut and pushing onwards, he
looks Sephiroth dead in the eyes and snarls.“Zack Fair.”
That name will
carry more meaning to Sephiroth, to the idol Cloud once adored because he knows
Zack meant something to both of them. And while this present Sephiroth –
leaching off the life of a sixteen-year-old remnant, fighting with Jenova’s
influence flowing through his veins like a virus –is nothing more than a
villain, there must be something human left. And Cloud witnesses the memories
flicker across his face, his mouth losing its arrogance and dropping open in
surprise. His eyes dart away from Cloud’s face, struck suddenly by Zack-shaped
hole in the world.Their ascent
halts, and Cloud takes the chance offered him. He drives into Sephiroth like
mountain, refusing to bow against a stiff wind. Again and again, he cuts into
Sephiroth, unrelenting. And each time he glides pass the former First Class
SOLDIER, there is something uncomfortable about Sephiroth.When the two of
them drop onto the ground, Cloud recognizes the expression paining Sephiroth’s
face is guilt.
“Sephiroth, have you completely
lost your mind?”“Sephiroth, I trusted you!”
“No, you’re not the Sephiroth I
once knew.”“Cloud,
finish Sephiroth off.”
“It’s…only a
memory,” Sephiroth murmurs. He staggers onto his feet, body dissolving into
black feathers. “I am…only a memory.”“There’s nothing
wrong with that.” Cloud says. “Just be a good one. For him at least.”
It’s a lie. A
bold-faced lie because nothing about Sephiroth is a “good memory” for Cloud.
Sephiroth has taken so much from him, from the people on this planet, but Cloud
is tired. Sephiroth is tired. This
marks the second time the once proud general has been brought back, and the
third time Cloud will kill him. Maybe Jenova will take a hint and fuck off, let
Sephiroth’s soul go because her precious little hell spawn has limits like
memory, human compassion.
Sephiroth’s
mouth is unfamiliar with apologies, and even he realizes how insincere it would
sound coming from him. He looks at Cloud, feeling his hands go numb around
Masamune. Jenova shrieks in his veins, urging him back onto his feet, but
Sephiroth can’t feel his legs. His body is heavy and his mind buzzes with half-remembered promises and images of a trio of reckless boys with too much
strength and responsibility.“Quietly, but
surely.” Sephiroth gasps. “I offer thee this silent sacrifice.”
Alternate Ending: Advent Children
Published
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