RISE OF THE SILVER PHOENIX

BY : SabreTooth
Category: Final Fantasy VII > Crossovers
Dragon prints: 1500
Disclaimer: I do not own the original story line and characters of the canon FF7 genre. I do own the original plot sprung from my deviant mind and some new characters. No money/profit is made from this.

A Game of Cards

 

Following dinner, Tseng was playing cards with his group of Turks since they had been relieved of duty for the rest of the day. Rufus ShinRa had decided to spend whatever time remained of the day in the secluded areas of the new facility. He had always been a person to take his duties with grave responsibility, but there was something behind the walls of the facility, not even the most trusted bodyguards were allowed to see and that made Tseng a bit uneasy. He was submerged in thought and hadn’t noticed it was his turn to deal.

 

Unknown even to his closest friends, Tseng was a man with a depth that intertwined with loyalty as well as passion for what he deemed honest. He was a player for the side that was veiled in shadows but the true heart of this warrior was elusive and a mystery with a pure core that benefited only those he thought would earn the right to it. This was not ShinRa and none of his group members. His heart had loyalty for another, one that was no longer amongst them but his memory was still lingering on as a dangerous presence. And that presence had grown stronger during the past weeks, leading to disturbed dreams and restless nights. Thus as Tseng laid out the cards, he was no longer playing for the money or the respect there was to gain in this game of probable outcome. The numbers lead a dance he tried to interpret as an answer to his tainted heart. Tseng dealt the cards more as meditation and nothing revealed his inner thoughts. Thoughts on war was the only thing he could let through.

He threw in the clubs, their weapons of war, and increased the bet with his King of diamonds, but Tseng had his winning hand in the Ace of spades that they called the swords of a Soldier. And just as he had suspected, the final round of victory was his own. The Soldier had won.

Reno watched him from a distance and scoffed.

“Even with dark rings under your eyes, you don’t miss a trick, do you?” Reno chuckled.

Tseng lifted his head whilst arranging the cards for a new deal, but halted for a swift second and took the Turk into scrutiny.

“What do you mean by that?”

Reno shrugged. “Well, you’ve obviously had problems sleeping lately. I mean the rings under your eyes look like badly applied eyeliner yet you never lose a single game despite the lack of sleep.”

Tseng nodded and took a sip of his beer.

“Being tired is not the same thing as losing concentration.”

“To a certain extent,” Reno waved it off and just as he was about to continue his argument, Rude silenced the redhead with a cough seeing Tifa Lockhart entering the bar. Elena started smiling, because although Rude’s sunglasses were reflecting the outside world, the awkward silence descending upon him whenever Tifa was near was unmistakable.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Elena suggested, adding a slight tease to her tone of voice.

“Because she has Cloud,” Rude grunted and was a bit defeated by the thought of never having a chance to gain access to Tifa’s heart.

In his opinion she was a cute, little brunette who hardly reached to his chest, but sparkling with that charming attitude he adored. Well, he would no doubt treat her well and make her feel important. Indeed, though Rude was as his name implied, and, in addition, intimidating in size and strength, the soul behind the tough shell was ever so gentle. A misunderstood giant and he longed to expose his true self to that loud, little brunette who was chastising an employee who was late for work. It wasn’t her style to be that agitated, and Rude could not help but wonder if she was having a bad day. Maybe he could ask her how she was doing? Or perhaps ask her to join him for dinner after work? No! No, that was stupid. Why would she want to have dinner with a brute, when she had that little blond everyone was so fond of?

‘Cloud’ Rude snorted internally. Yes, everyone was fond of him. He was a hero, the defeater of Sephiroth and everyone’s little darling. Rude snorted again in his glass and placed it on the table with loud thud.

“Watch it big-guy,” sounded from behind him and the friendly giant almost choked on his beer seeing Tifa pouting with discontent.

“Oh, I am sorry, Miss Lockhart,” he mumbled dejectedly, “I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

Rude was apparently troubled by his behaviour, something, which amused the young brunette and she decided to let him off the hook as she placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

“Look, I had a bad day… again,” she emphasized rolling her eyes and went on whilst clearing the table of empty glasses and bottles. “Anything else you guys want?”

There was an awkward silence and the group of Turks were waiting for Rude to make a comment, but he seemed completely numb.

“I think Rude wants something,” Elena began giggling, as befitting her childish attitude, but Tseng hushed her with a piercing look.

“Oh yeah?” Tifa added and turned to Rude. “Well?”

Rude was sitting still with face anchored to the table and battling fiercely with his preponderating and immobilizing shyness.

“Cat got your tongue?” Tseng finally asked and placed an order for a decent meal they would all have.

It was almost dinnertime anyway and they could spend a few more hours here, since they had nothing better to do. Tifa made a note of the order; beef, potatoes, fresh vegetables, garlic bread, more beer and apple pie for desert. Upon leaving, she halted midway and leaning against the back support of Rude’s chair, she shared her story of Greybone.

“Speaking of cats, Cloud has a new toy. And I tell you I’ve never seen a cat so devoted to his master. It won’t let him out of its sight, ever. In bed, in the bathroom, and when he leaves for work that cat goes completely crazy, scratching at the door and whining. At times I feel like kicking it out, but then he looks at me with those really big, green eyes and looks so sad I can’t help but spoil him. Cute, although darn annoying at times.”

“How’s Cloud?” Elena threw in, whilst arranging her cards in a specific order.

Tifa shrugged and the corners of her mouth turned downwards slightly. “Oh, he’s…” she began and halted in a way that made the group look back at her sensing the hidden message of discomfort in the background. “He’s… busy… I guess. He has been sleeping very badly lately and he’s… tired.”

With that swift debriefing she left the company and went about her business of running the bar. Reno twisted a smile at Rude and patted him playfully on the back.

“Maybe this is your chance,” he said, but the friendly giant didn’t share the malicious joy of knowing Tifa’s relationship was in distress.

“Maybe some other time,” Rude sighed and concentrated on the game.

Tseng repeated the words inside his head, knowing there was something alarming behind this lack of sleep that seemed to trouble someone other than just him. Perhaps if he took a moment to speak to Cloud he could find out more. Would there be any reason for him to do so and how would he approach the young man? No, this could be just a coincidence and he would merely seem a fool bringing up such a personal subject with someone who is considered an enemy by the ShinRa Corporation. No, this was just his imagination. Tseng looked at the cards again.

Of all the people in this town, statistically, there were hundreds having sleepless nights at the same time. Besides, the dreams haunting Tseng were far more specific and frightening. Surely Cloud had no dreams of Angeal and Genesis; surely he was not tormented by seeing them strapped and hung upside-down in coiling barbwire, wings ripped out at the root and their feathers arranged in mystical inscriptions on the floor of the chamber where they were kept locked up. The chambers were filled with water. Tseng had been sure that the two men were dead, for their skin was peeling off the bodies, flaking with blisters as if a disease had ravaged them. Their faces were frozen in agony – staring out from the dirty water – pleading; every night – over and over – just pleading.

He saw them almost every night along with Yazoo; the graceful manifestation of Sephiroth’s beauty. Tseng looked at the cards for a moment and lost himself in the image of the Knight of Hearts. Yazoo was there; he was there waiting every night when Tseng submerged in deep sleep. He was on his knees in front of the twin chambers, torso collapsed and the silver hair covering his head was resting against the shoulders like a delicate veil. His hair was so very different from that of Tseng who had inherited the coarse thickness of his mother’s mane. Nonetheless, Yazoo had captivated him.

The silver Knight possessed an unparalleled beauty, but had a heart as cold as the glaciers in the northern parts outside Midgar. He guarded the Angels every night and read the inscriptions beneath their bodies over and over, rocking back and forth as if in a hypnotic trance. For the forth night in a row, Tseng had dared to approach Yazoo, but last night he had even dared to place a hand on the shoulders of the young man as he pulled him up from the floor. The events that took place after were still hidden in the depths of Tseng’s mind, afraid to expose them during sunlight as if his very own private thoughts would be scrutinized in public if he dared to bring them about in his head.

The Knight of Hearts started trembling in his hands as sensations of Yazoo’s petal soft lips lingered on his mouth. The gentle caress of the long fingers tracing Tseng’s jaws and neck, the sweet, sweet smile that tamed every attempt at hatred, and the warm body that rested in Tseng’s embrace until the alarm clock brought reality before his eyes. It was so unreal. He had never before given his desires to a man; not even blessed the thought of an opportunity with a sincere reflection. He remembered waking up with anger, utterly frustrated with himself and he was getting nauseous again. He had emptied his stomach in the toilet last night, reproaching his feeble mind for such debauched thoughts of a demon’s spawn.

Yazoo and his brothers, Kadaj and Loz, had been created from the same seeds as Sephiroth and, therefore, deserved the same fate. Never before had the world encountered such violation of Nature’s laws and there was no other option for the sake of the future than to destroy them all. Tseng threw the Knight onto the table, completing his victory of a full house with three knights and two aces. Yes, the three brothers and the two Angels. He shook his head again, but this time his actions brought about a series of questions from Reno.

“Man, are you all right? You look like you haven’t slept for ages. I saw you today at the shooting track and you seemed to have lost some focus. Man, Rufus ain’t gonna be glad to see you losing it. You want a few days off or somethin’?”

“I’m not losing it, Reno,” Tseng muttered in response, “and I don’t need time off. I just need to have something to do. I hate sitting still and waiting for nothing.”

“I don’t hate it,” the redhead stated merrily. “In fact, I prefer having full salary for nothing.”

“Yes, we all know your devotion to hard work, Reno-baby. Look, Rufus is busy with that darn project of his and there’s nothing we can do about that, except wait for him to get his ass out of that hole in the ground,” Elena pointed out and took another bite out of her meal. She wiped her mouth and picked up the cards to shuffle them into a new deal.

“Yeah,” Reno added and took a piece of Elena’s fried potatoes as he went on while chewing. “You should take this opportunity to relax, Tseng.”

Tseng rolled his eyes, shaking his head; “I’m just not very comfortable about these weeks he’s been spending down under. It’s not like him to shut us completely outside of a project.”

“For what it’s worth, “Rude cut in, “I for one am glad not to be involved this time. It saves me from a lot of headaches.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not convinced,” Tseng countered and left his seat, excusing himself to the men’s room.

“Are you going to have that?” Rude asked and pointed to the half eaten meal on the plate and happily dug into it when their leader shook his head in response. As opposed to Rude, Tseng had lost his appetite and needed to be alone for a little while.

“Man you have an appetite of a horse,” Reno pointed out as he was struggling to help Elena finish her mammoth meal. “I still remember you, Barrett and Cid finishing off a whole chocobo at the Moon-festival five years ago.”

“Mmm,” Rude smiled at the thought of a succulent, roast chocobo and took another bite of the bread on which he had neatly placed a few fried potatoes and dipped it in gravy. “Those were the days.”

“I like a man who’s not fussy with food,” Tifa announced as she arrived with another pitcher of beer. “You know Rude, it makes me hungry just to see you eat.”

The friendly giant smiled behind his shades and demonstratively took another bite out of his odd sandwich. The brunette responded to his lovable manner with a pat on his shoulder before she left.

“Man, that’s the second time,” Reno whispered strenuously, hardly able to hold back his enthusiasm.

Rude tried to hush him, but with his mouth full of food and his burning gaze hidden behind the sunglasses, the other Turk went on as if he had no boundaries.

“I’m telling you, you can score with this girl. Ask her out!”

“Mo!” came as a muffled opposition filtered through a bolus of food. “B’shidsh, she, hash Clou.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Elena engaged supportively, still shuffling the cards between bites. “In love and war all is fair. Cloud has no patent on Tifa. Is she wearing a collar perhaps? Asking won’t hurt. Besides, it was about a hundred years ago since you were on a date.”

“Was not!” Rude defended himself.

“Was too!” the others added in chorus.

“All right!” Rude felt he needed to end the conversation.

He was very fond of Tifa, enough even to not want to cause her problems in her current relationship, but maybe Elena and Reno were right. Life is full of chances and even if it won’t lead to anything, it couldn’t hurt asking. With insecure movements and his massive heart pounding in his throat, Rude left the table and slowly approached the counter. The others watched with anticipation from the table.

From the corners of her eyes, Tifa noticed a wall approaching, but the illusion was in conflict with her logic, hence she looked up and discovered the gentle face of Rude staring back at her. He had respectfully removed his sunglasses and for the first time she saw the almond-shaped black pearls scan the area around him. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hands at which Tifa dropped the comment;

“Not many people walk around with handkerchiefs these days.”

Rude halted and looked at the wrinkly piece of square cloth in his hands putting it swiftly away. Noticing that the big man was abashed, the woman felt the need to clarify that it was by all means very posh and very suitable for a gentleman. Using her sixth sense of female intuition, Tifa felt that there was something more behind Rude’s sudden visit, other than the meal he wished to pay for. But first things first. Tifa scanned the credit card and once Rude had signed it with his thumbprint she asked if there was anything else he wanted. Though dark skinned, the shift in color on his cheeks was clearly noticeable but in a gesture of respect, Tifa pretended she hadn’t noticed. Rude cursed his coyness, which accompanied a muffle that bound his words, but courageously stood his ground determined not to fail in the eyes of his peers.

“Miss Lockhart,” he began, whilst rubbing a tiny spot on the bar counter with his index finger, “I was sort of thinking… that perhaps one day… Oh, uh, not today,” he pointed out quickly and then continued. “…that maybe if you perhaps find the time to possibly consider… if you don’t have anything else to do that specific day, which is very important…“ and then he drifted off with incoherent mumblings, which Tifa found most amusing but kept patiently listening and occasionally nodding. “I mean, I know having a bar like this takes a lot of time from any other activities… not that I was planning on anything specific that would take too much time from you… but if you perchance find some time in your busy schedule… maybe you could consider having a friendly drink with me?”

Tifa smiled, biting her lips.

“Rude, are you asking me on a date?”

The big man had shrunk to half his normal size and almost disappeared into the ground on the other side of the counter. That is how he felt at least.

“I guess, Miss Lockhart.”

The young woman couldn’t help but acknowledge this lovable, yet childishly clumsy approach, but had to decline for the sake of her relationship. She cast a sad glance after Rude as the friendly giant trudged back to his place next to his friends. The truth of the matter was that she liked Rude. He was a brute at times, but a misunderstood person. He didn’t waste his words unless it was absolutely necessary, but he had a sharp intellect and underneath that crude façade he possessed a gentle soul that seldom found its way into the light. Well, she had noticed it many times. He was kind with the local kids and whenever he had time, he offered to help the old blacksmith carrying the raw material to be processed in the ovens. In short, he was of sturdy material himself, both in spirit and body; stable. So unlike Cloud, who was constantly on the lookout for something; so shifting, so unbalanced and so volatile.

Tifa sighed. Cloud’s mother had lived in the small town of Nibelheim before it was turned to ashes by Sephiroth’s wrath. Tifa liked Mrs. Strife, for she had a bright, cheerful personality; perhaps even a little naïve, which was accentuated by that windswept blond hair. She doted on her son and was constantly worried about him being in the big city of Midgar. For that reason, she would have liked him to have an older girlfriend who could take care of him, but Cloud didn’t seem interested. In fact, he wasn’t very interested in anything lately.

After the destruction of Sephiroth, Cloud and Tifa had decided to settle into Nibelheim, which had risen from the ruins anew, just like Midgar was doing now. But when too many memories were still haunting along the old streets, they decided to live further out in the countryside and leave the past where it belonged. That happened just after Tifa and Cloud became serious as a couple. Yes, serious and perhaps too serious. There was no playfulness or joy left in anything anymore. The turmoil of the everyday life washed over Tifa’s inner vision and riding on the current of a sudden impulse she called out for Rude.

“Hey, Rude, how about if I call you sometime after closing time? I can’t promise when, but I do promise to give you a call.”

A radiant smile travelled across Rude’s lips as he accepted the offer with enthusiasm and agreed to pick her up after the working day had come to an end. Indeed, it didn’t hurt to ask. Shortly following the cheerful events, Tseng had returned to the table and the group started up a new round of cards. Cards, the foretellers of probable outcomes, the numbers of structured chance; all that seemed so random, yet governed by complex mathematical precision that rendered the impossible equally real as the baffling events of evolution. It was all real. No matter how grand or insignificant; it all obeyed some form of law to which it was bound. Just like those little sparks of madness dwelling in the stillness of an organic world; the spawns of Jenova were thriving like parasitic clusters on the artificial wombs provided.


 

Rufus was most pleased with the accomplishments of Professor Hojo and the development of his new army. The first generation had already been harvested and their growth was accelerated to young men. They were all platinum haired and perfect clones of each other; synchronised in body and mind as they advanced through the obstacles presented on the training grounds. They jumped fences, crawled in mud, shot on target, climbed the faces of the artificial rocks, endured conditions that would break any human soldier and above all, showed no signs of thought or regret. They were perfect killing-machines.

The perfect army with which Rufus could regain power of the planet and further extend it to the vast parts of the entire space squadron. Indeed, his father before him had tamed the source of the planet’s energy, but had to abandon the project as the planet weakened and started withering. Now, he had new ambitions. Walking in his father’s footsteps, Rufus ShinRa was not immune to the hunger of power and thus saw the benefits of taming uninhabited planets and extracting their Lifestream in order to be the main supplier of energy to the entire squadron. Such power and such wealth would need an extraordinary army for protection. Indeed, whoever controlled the Lifestream and its powers also controlled fate and the future.

Everything in life was striving towards increasing entropy, as energy decreased and thus fuelling the passage of time in an unassailable direction. But controlling the energy of the drive force, would ultimately lead to the control of the future. And everyone who wanted on board the enterprise had to show certain interest and a small credit donation to realize the project.

The message sent to this electronic calendar from his secretary alerted him to a meeting that was about to begin in fifteen minutes. It was a business meeting and he smiled all the way up to surface level. Powerful leaders from the squadron were waiting by their communicators to hold the most important meeting in a long time. It would shape the future of billions and create a new foundation of power for the ShinRa Corporation.

The blood samples taken from Sephiroth as a child were purified from human traits to restore Jenova’s contribution, which was later enriched through cloning. Those tissue samples were then used to implant what little humanity was needed to tame the creatures. Indeed, they were more alien than Sephiroth ever was and Rufus was confident the project would succeed this time.

He remembered Sephiroth with slight sadness. Directly after delivery, Sephiroth spent his infant years submerged in a semi-organic suspension tank. When reaching the toddler’s age, he was allowed to be awake and roam in the laboratories to begin his education, but the experiments had started already when he was unconscious in the “tube”, as Hojo referred to it. He had showed incredible endurance to most harmful trials.

The tests had continued at a low level throughout early childhood, but by the time he was ten, he displayed remarkable intelligence and refined skills in his inaugural military training. As the young man’s body became stronger and more mature, the really heavy experimentation began into what his body could cope with; to see how it differed from the average human. Sephiroth left everyone in awe. He was powerful and above all, stunningly beautiful; in short, flawless in everything. Or so it seemed.

He survived everything, even when the tests and trials were almost breaking his body. Covered in sweat and tears of pain, his human heritage unwillingly released, Sephiroth remained strong in the face of agony and accepted it as a part of his life.

One particular event came to mind. Rufus reached the top level of the grand complex in his dome of power and during the short walk to his office, he kept on thinking about the time when Sephiroth received the highest dose of Mako, refined Lifestream, ever injected into a body. His body was writhing in cramps, mouth foaming with saliva, eyes watering, and nose and ears bleeding. He had ripped his own fingernails scratching the insides of the ectobar sarcophagus in which he was contained during the experiment. He bit his tongue in half and just as he was feared to be suffocating, the pain eased and the body submerged in comatose slumber. But unlike the others, Sephiroth healed quickly. The Jenova cells would not allow for him to die and he was on his feet within weeks.

When he awoke, he had a strange glow in his almond shaped eyes and all Soldiers following him were inoculated with minor doses. That was the reason why their eyes had that eerie glow and it gave them the ability to use Materia to cast spells. Hojo had started early with Sephiroth and at higher doses to investigate his tolerance; hence Sephiroth was the most powerful sorcerer ever. But in some aspects, Sephiroth remained human.

Already at a tender age, when hormones swept his brain, he showed profound curiosity for the opposite sex and later to some male assistants as well; insisting to be handled by a handful of assistants, a chosen few, who sometimes spent longer periods of time with the teenager behind barred doors and the security cameras shut down. Though ridiculed and belittled by Hojo for his human urges, never to his face, however, Rufus’ father understood that even Sephiroth needed to vent his emotions; those remnants of weakness of human legacy. But it was only a short period, because as Sephiroth grew older, his self-control had gained outstanding proportions and not even the human flaws in him managed to break the fortress of power. There was no use for the caretakers anymore… not even for his own personal pleasure. They were dismissed.

In fact, as the young man reached his position as a General in his late teens, he fell victim to aphephobia. He couldn’t stand to be touched or reach out to people. On extremely rare occasions he would extend a hand to greet someone or be caught in a moment when he would place a hand, other than for the sake of violence, on a fellow human. Sephiroth slipped on a downward spiral and the more of a recluse he became the harder it was to empathize with others and reach out. He became withdrawn to the extent where he would rather sit in the dark apartment, completely obscured, not a spark of light bouncing off the walls and just listen to the silence whilst his own spark for life dwindled.

He started wearing gloves in public, and shunned human contact beginning the day he led his tenth battle to victory. It was almost as if he instinctively shielded himself from the flesh that he slaughtered on the battlefields. He did not want to feel those he must destroy, and he no longer wished for those who were like his victims to reach towards him. Yes, Sephiroth had become reclusive, introverted, silent and damaged. He was complete as a Soldier but broken as a person even before he became a man. In addition, Sephiroth was addicted to Mako-injections. Rufus knew, so did Hojo and Professor Gast, but not many others. He was alone and abandoned in his own addiction.

So, the great General was not only aphephobic, reclusive and a self-isolated sociopath, he was also a pathetic drug addict. In the dead of the night, he would struggle greatly if he did not receive his little fix, then drift off in a semi-conscious state where Jenova would silently, but profoundly exert her powers over him. She would connect to her spawn when he was “drifting”, as Sephiroth himself often referred to that state. He was in bliss when he “drifted”, but it was never lasting.

Rufus remembered when he was only an adolescent. He had followed his father, the President, to the head office, as he was to learn from an early age what it was like to lead a big company. Sephiroth was already a General and already frozen in heart and soul. He had been summoned to the office by President ShinRa for they were to have a meeting about the army’s financial requirements to estimate the energy need for the coming fiscal year. Rufus had been asked to demonstrate he could crunch numbers and draw conclusions about the needs of the company for a prosperous future and was allowed to stay with his father throughout the meeting. During the discussion with President ShinRa, Rufus got to understand the devastating power within the General, sprung from his incapability to empathize.

Jenova’s son was a pure bred sociopath with unusual hang-ups regarding life and himself as a person, something that normal humans would never even reflect over. Sephiroth had no problems with taking decisions and building up tactics around the destruction of enemies, even if those tactics would involve a great loss of civilians, simply referred to by him as unfortunate casualties; “The cost of war to maintain balance”. However, a simple invitation to the ShinRa mansion where he would have the chance to mingle with the crème-de-la-crème was met with an insecure glance and a subsequent decline.

Although most people failed to notice, Sephiroth’s addiction would be agitated by unpleasant suggestions and he would start to grit his teeth and the jaw-muscles would tense. He would cross his arms, one hand placed on his chin so as to hide his subtle chewing, and with a deep breath he would expand his chest to raise the high collar on his jacket to hide part of his troubled features. It made him look sterner, but in fact he was a scared victim. There was no doubt in Rufus’ mind that Sephiroth truly feared the masses; people who asked questions about him as a person. Indeed, what would he answer them… what could he?

He had no experiences that would enable him to relate to other people; whatever they spoke about was alien and uncomfortable to him. He had no problems with death, but life was a great threat and utterly difficult for him to grasp. Sex was long gone and forgotten, kisses long frozen and passion ebbed out. Rufus remembered seeing abashment blushing on Sephiroth’s pale cheeks each time the cadets would pull a dirty joke. It was strange – how could have nights of ecstasy been forgotten? After being crowned as General, Sephiroth had become ascetic, but rumours had it that he slipped occasionally.

Rufus indulged in those stories, much to the frustration of Sephiroth knowing that something was being said behind his back. But Rufus didn’t mind. It was those little slips that he respected the most. It showed that Sephiroth, along with the other angels, had at least something human about him. And it made them all so much better than just plain, aloof aliens.

Rufus knew there was no one in Sephiroth’s life who had given him warmth. The General could not understand affections, brotherhood, family values or even friendship. Not after he had shed his emotional heritage. His understanding of friendship was a small number of people he tolerated enough to relieve the burden of command; Angeal and Genesis and later on Zack. Sephiroth’s family consisted of an insane father who pushed him through rigorous experimental sessions to exercise the mind as well as body to build a thinking killing machine, and an alien mother whose concocted genes gestated together with his own inside a powerless, feeble minded woman of weak character who agreed to the experiments at first, then lost her mind over the consequences it brought about and barred herself out of guilt and shame behind impenetrable Mako-crystals.

These events can make a sociopath out of anyone Rufus concluded and turned his thoughts onto his new army. Well, Rufus’ new army would be even more complete, and with that conviction he stepped into the office, already awaited by the projected images of investors and stakeholders.



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