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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody	By : DarkSeraphim1 Category: Final Fantasy VII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core, Before Crisis, or Dirge of Cerberus. I do not profit from the writing and/or posting of this fic. I am just a humble fan paying tribute to another's wonderful creations.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Chapter Twelve
       ’When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end, the goddess descends from the sky. Wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting’ -Loveless, PROLOGUE
            The auditorium was filled to capacity, cadets from all classes crammed into uncomfortable folding chairs, their excited murmurs creating a low-level buzz that threatened to make Sephiroth’s head ache. The whole company had assembled here, for the sole purpose of publicizing the newest addition to the 1st Class ranks, although there would be a handful of other carefully chosen cadets who would be promoted as part of the ceremony. The Public Relations Department, which was run surprisingly well by young Rufus Shinra, already had a crew assembled, ready to snap pictures and otherwise record the moment for prosperity.
            It had only been a week since he had confronted Strife in his office, and yet here he sat, on the threshold of an event that could very well change the future of The Planet permanently. It was a daunting thought.
            Sephiroth sighed to himself as he pushed the notion away and shifted in his own seat high up on the stage. He loathed these events, even as he acknowledged that they were necessary. Not only did they serve to boost morale, but they gave the boys who had worked so hard to better themselves much-deserved recognition. Whether they made it as SOLDIERs or not, they had earned this.
            As several of the lower-class recruits began to look his way and whisper amongst themselves, he crossed his arms over his chest and kept his expression carefully neutral. He had always hated being the center of attention, and his presence always seemed to detract attention from those who were more deserving of it.
            “Bored already?”
            He stifled the urge to smile at the low, haughty murmur to his right. He turned his head just enough to make eye contact with Genesis, who had one fiery brow raised, his own arrogant mask firmly in place. Sephiroth merely gave a slight shake of his head, not trusting himself to speak. They were surrounded by the Board, and President Shinra himself sat not more than two seats away. Genesis knew this, and still had the audacity to shift closer, so that their arms brushed in a too-brief, not quite accidental touch.
            The First tilted his head to one side, a decidedly wicked light twinkling in his blue-hued gaze, and said, “Cat got your tongue, General?”
            There was a suspicious choking sound just beyond Genesis, where Angeal sat, and it was all Sephiroth could do not to laugh aloud. “Not yet,” he couldn’t resist uttering softly in return.
            “Mmmm,” the redhead said with mock consideration, “I’ll have to see what I can do about that later.”
            “Genesis!”
            Angeal’s muted hiss drew a light chuckle from the other man as he settled back in his seat. He crossed his legs, set his red-gloved hands on his knees in a posture that Sephiroth was certain was reserved for the feminine side of the species, and began to swing one leg. Unlike Angeal, who was frantically whispering for him to behave himself, Sephiroth only stared straight ahead, narrowing his eyes as he suppressed more inappropriate laughter. If nothing else, Genesis always found a way to make these dreary events bearable, if not precisely enjoyable.
            Veiled green eyes swept the audience, searching for and finding the distinctive blond spikes of Cloud Strife’s hair. He sat in the fifth row, his dainty features expressionless as he absently plucked at the baggy pants of his new 2nd Class uniform, his bright blue gaze locked on something to his left. Sephiroth followed his gaze to Zack, who was practically bouncing in his seat in the first row, talking animatedly with the other Seconds on either side of him.
            Sephiroth looked back at Strife, who nodded almost imperceptively, and returned the gesture. Cloud wasn’t the only Third to be promoted in today’s ceremony, but as far as Sephiroth was concerned, he was the only one who mattered. In the past, he had viewed things differently, considering it his personal mission to oversee the training of all cadets. This time around, he would leave the others to their prospective instructors. Cloud and Zack were the only ones that mattered, the only two whose futures would affect The Planet for years to come. They must be saved, no matter what the consequences to the other cadets, because by doing so, he would be saving Angeal and the Ancient, as well Gaia itself.
            A cold sentiment, perhaps, but a true one nonetheless. Sephiroth slanted a sidelong glance at Genesis, whose azure gaze met his warmly, and had to curl his hand against an almost overpowering urge to reach for him. The past would not be repeated, he vowed silently. He would find a way to spare his lover the descent into madness, and all of them would be saved. There would be no degradation, no clones, no Nibelheim, no Meteor.
            Of course, that still left the question of what to do about Mother. Jenova was even now locked away at the top of the Nibelheim reactor, her tainted cells mutating the humans in the pods below, turning them into monstrous abominations. She must be removed from the reactor and properly disposed of, but the method of disposal remained in question. Casting her into the depths of the reactor was out of the question, as the results of doing so would be disastrous for them all. Geostigma must not be allowed to infect The Planet as it had once before, as the Ancient still lived, and therefore could not intervene from the Lifestream.
            He could always cut her out of her prison again, Sephiroth thought with dark humor, and then dismissed the notion entirely. The dismembered pieces would merely be called back to join the main body, and Jenova would be made whole once more. He considered burning the alien bitch, but he knew of no fire hot enough to completely incinerate a human body--or a mutated Cetra. Something was always left behind, teeth or the odd bit of bone. With Jenova, even a stray strand of hair could prove to be disastrous.
            No, Sephiroth told himself as he absently toyed with a lock of his own silver hair, hating that he had that much in common with the alien bitch, there had to be something else that he could do, something that would permanently remove The Calamity from this world without jeopardizing those who were a part of it. He merely had to find it.
            He would have to ask Cloud for his opinion the next time they met. A fresh perspective would likely help, and the other had proven to be quite resourceful while tracking him during ‘Meteorfall’. The call for Reunion aside, Sephiroth had no doubt that Strife would have found him eventually. The boy had been frighteningly tenacious in his determination to avenge his hometown.
            President Shinra rose to his feet, and Sephiroth forced his mind back to the present. The old man waddled--there was no other word for it--up to the podium and tapped the microphone. Sephiroth winced as a high-pitched squeal sounded, the feedback reverberating through the room as it traveled through the sound system. He heard Genesis curse under his breath, and knew that the other’s enhanced senses had also been affected by the shrill, piercing sound.
            The President cleared his throat and began to speak, giving a long, rather boring speech on the importance of strength and unity. Sephiroth could barely restrain what would be a very Genesis-like snort as he listened. The only unity the old man cared about was that of his greedy, ruthless Board Of Directors. So long as they were all united in their ambitions for more gil under his direction, the rest of the world could rot. And would, if he and Strife weren’t very, very careful.
            The President concluded his speech with a falsely benevolent smile and a rather dramatic gesture with his left hand. “And now, Commander Tseng, of the Department Of Administrative Research.”
            The leader of the Turks rose from his seat at the far left of the stage and moved gracefully to the podium. He thanked the President and gave a very short, very succinct discourse on what it meant to be a Turk. Genesis snorted quietly at his side, making his opinion of Shinra’s elite team of assassins known. Luckily, no one seemed to hear as Tseng called out a single name, and a lanky boy with rather wild red hair stood and approached the stage.
            Reno, Sephiroth thought with a silent growl. The Turk whose past had been considered so top-secret that not even Hojo had been able to access his records. Aquamarine eyes met his briefly as the boy climbed onstage, and Sephiroth couldn’t stop his own from narrowing menacingly in response. He had never cared for the crude, insolent young Turk, the very one who had once offered to take Genesis’ place in his bed, not long after the other’s desertion. He had nearly put the young man through a wall for his insolence, and had been subjected to a battery of psychological ‘tests’ as a result. Hopefully the young killer would have no reason to make such a proposition this time around, or enough sense to restrain himself, if nothing else. Otherwise, Sephiroth would put him through the wall this time, personal restraint be damned. No one touched him without his consent.
            Reno was introduced and given a certificate to complete his indoctrination into the world of killing and espionage. The boy only grinned proudly, pumped his fist in the air once, and went back to his seat, laughter trailing in his wake. Tseng, whose inscrutable expression couldn’t hide the disapproval in his dark eyes, put a stop to that with his next words.
            “And now, General Sephiroth.”
            An instant hush fell over the room and Sephiroth fought the urge to squirm as he stood and approached the podium. He absolutely despised public speaking. He looked out over the assembled crowd, forcing a small smile to his lips, and wished he were anywhere but where he actually was. “Today, we have gathered here to commemorate those who have shown excellence beyond all expectations,” he began, pitching his naturally deep voice to reach even the farthest rows. “I stand here to welcome these gifted young men into the ranks of SOLDIER, and to offer thanks for your considerable contributions. I am proud of you all, and I hope that you will continue to achieve success in your future endeavors.”
            He turned to his left and inclined his head, thankful that his bangs were long enough to hide the relief in his eyes as he said, “Director Lazard, the floor is yours.”
            There was another smattering of laughter, more subdued, less certain, followed by applause as Sephiroth returned to his seat. “Gods, but I hate doing that,” he muttered under his breath.
            “Poor Sephiroth,” Genesis murmured at his side, his voice wavering with suppressed laughter and something less decipherable. “The price one must pay for fame.”
            He stiffened, wishing that he had imagined the edge to his lover’s humorous words, knowing that he had not. “It’s all yours, Gen,” he returned, his too-quiet voice laced with weariness. “I want no part of it.”
            A faint frown marred the smooth skin of Genesis’ brow. “Seph, what‘s wrong?” he questioned, his own voice nearly inaudible. “You’re not angry, are you? It was only a joke.”
            Sephiroth could only shake his head as disappointment filled him. He had stupidly assumed that Genesis’ jealousy had been tempered by the changes in their relationship, as he had seen no sign of it since their first heated disagreement. Now he knew otherwise, and he was at a loss as to how he should deal with it. He didn’t want his lover to see him as a rival, but rather as an equal, and it hurt--deeply--that the other man could not do so.
            “Sephiroth, look at me.” Another slight shake of that gorgeous silver head was his only response, and Genesis had to struggle to keep the scowl off of his face. He shifted closer, ignoring the anonymous Third who stood beside Lazard to receive his promotion to 2nd Class, bothered by his lover’s refusal to face him. “You know I was kidding,” he whispered fiercely.
            There was no response at all this time, and Genesis was unnerved enough to do the unthinkable. He set his hand on Sephiroth’s arm, drawing shock-widened green eyes to his own, as he touched the other man in public for the first time in ten years. “Tell me that you know I was joking, Sephiroth.”
            Sephiroth drew a deep, steadying breath as that simple touch ripped through him like lightning. As he glanced down at the splash of crimson that contrasted so greatly against the midnight leather of his own overcoat, he felt his disappointment melt away, along with every last shred of resistance. That his silence had worried Genesis enough to risk physical contact before the whole of Shinra Electric Power Company was enough to soothe his injured feelings.
            “I believe you,” he murmured as quietly as he could.
            The other man lingered for a moment, those haunting azure eyes searching his, before withdrawing. “You’d better,” he returned in the softest voice Sephiroth had ever heard him use, “because you are not sleeping alone tonight.”
            “Gods,” Angeal groaned on the other side of him. “Would you two please shut up before someone hears you?”
            Sephiroth traded an amused look with his lover before facing forward once more, his lips twitching as the struggled not to smile. The jealousy might still exist, but it was not as intense as before, and therefore could be countered. He needed to speak with Lazard regarding his plans to divide the leadership of SOLDIER between he and his two friends. That would be the beginning. Once in the spotlight, he hoped that Genesis would come to understand just why he loathed it. If nothing else, it should serve to feed his lover’s innate need for constant attention. He would have all the fame he could ever want, and then some.
            Director Lazard called Cloud’s name, and he shifted his focus to the front. He watched as Gaia’s Golden Weapon approached the podium with a quiet assurance that no sixteen-year-old boy should possess, and wondered why no one else could see it. Even with the young, nearly feminine quality to his fine features, his controlled bearing fairly screamed his experience, while his bright blue eyes echoed it in ways that were painfully familiar to Sephiroth. No matter how young Strife might look, he was a seasoned warrior, and it seemed absurd to him that others could believe anything else.
            Unlike Reno, Cloud kept his eyes on Tseng the entire time. He accepted his certificate, shook Lazard’s hand, and returned to his seat without uttering a word. Sephiroth knew from past conversations with Zack that Cloud had no other friends, no one to share this minor victory with, and he was surprised to find that the thought bothered him. Perhaps, he should introduce the two before he spoke to Angeal, simply so that the boy would not feel quite so alone. Loneliness was an emotion he himself was all too familiar with, and one he would not wish on anyone else, not even the man who had thrice taken his life.
            Then, Zack’s name was called, and Sephiroth tucked the thought away. He would worry about Strife later. Zachary came first. He always had, and he always would. It was that simple.
            Sephiroth leaned forward slightly and shot a quick glance at Angeal, not surprised to see that he was nearly bursting with pride. He sat back, trading a small smile with Genesis, before focusing on Zack once more. The Second bounded up on the stage, that astonishingly high level of energy more than visible as he pumped Lazard’s hand for all he was worth. Clear blue eyes, darker than Genesis’ but lighter than Angeal’s, sparkled with excitement and something more as the boy cast repeated looks at his mentor. Sephiroth didn’t have to look to know that Angeal was beaming at his student. He loved his puppy with everything in him, and he had never been as good at hiding his emotions as Genesis and himself.
            Sephiroth wasn’t quite prepared for the standing ovation the popular young Second--now First--received when it was over. Zack grinned into the audience, shouted something that sounded suspiciously like, “Oh, yeah! 1st Class, baby!”, and the assembled cadets simply went wild. Whistles and cat-calls sounded, and a few of his closer friends threw what looked like bathroom tissue at the stage. Zack laughed as he caught one of the few rolls that hadn’t completely unraveled and threw it back into the crowd, where it finished unraveling as it landed somewhere near the back row. The boy had quite an arm on him.
            Sephiroth chuckled as Lazard tried repeatedly to calm the crowd down, then gave up and dismissed everyone. He turned away from the podium, looking somewhat bemused, as he muttered, “I had no idea the boy was this popular.”
            The Silver General nodded at that. “Zack is very good with people.”
            “So, I see,” the blond man said with a slight shake of his head. “Thank the gods he can only be promoted to First once, then.”
            “Oh, Goddess!” They both turned to find Genesis scrambling to get out of his seat. “Here he comes!”
            Sure enough, Zack had lost interest in teasing the crowd and was racing across the stage. Sephiroth caught a glimpse of startled sapphire eyes before Zack threw himself at his mentor and began kissing him for all he was worth. Poor Angeal seemed torn between returning the kiss and pushing him away, as was evident by his contradictory movements. In the end, though, Zack wouldn’t be denied, and Angeal had no choice but to return the embarrassing, heated embrace.
            “Well, I guess that’s that.” Genesis shook his auburn head, his azure eyes full of affection as he watched his former lover kiss his current one rather passionately. There was no jealousy, no lingering resentment, just an easy acceptance that set Sephiroth at ease. “Angeal certainly won’t be able to hide it, now.”
            “I don’t think he planned to, Gen.” Sephiroth smiled as he added, “They shouldn’t have to, in any case.”
            Sky-blue eyes met and held his as Genesis replied, “No, they shouldn’t,” in a tone Sephiroth had never heard before.
            His heart stuttered to a stop before finding a savage new rhythm. “I never thought I would hear you voice such a sentiment,” he responded lightly, the rest of the world falling away at the decidedly tender smile the other man sent him.
            “I guess, you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Genesis murmured. He flicked his gaze meaningfully at Lazard, who was doing his best to appear invisible at the moment, before speaking again. “I believe we should leave this discussion for another time.”
            Sephiroth reigned in his disappointment and inclined his head in a regal manner. “Later, then,” he said simply in return.
            Zack finally came up for air, his kiss-reddened lips curved into that seemingly perpetual grin of his, his joy nearly a nearly palpable thing. He released Angeal, stepped back, whirled around, and pointed one black-gloved finger at Genesis. “Your turn!”
            “Oh, shit!” came the heartfelt exclamation before the dignified redhead found himself drawn into a very undignified hug. He hesitantly returned the platonic embrace, his eyes meeting Angeal’s over the boy’s shoulder. His oldest friend merely smiled somewhat sappily, and Genesis couldn’t find it in himself to ruin the moment. “Congratulations, pup.”
            The boy continued to cling to him as he said, “Thanks, Genesis.”
            “Uh, Zack?” The boy didn’t answer, so he tapped him on the shoulder twice. “I would appreciate it if you’d let me go, now.”
            “Yes, sir!” Zack drew back and offered a surprisingly solid salute, accompanied by a shifty grin. “Anything else, General Asshole, sir?”
            Azure eyes narrowed on his, and Sephiroth hastily stepped in. He extended his hand, his smile still in place, as he said, “Welcome to 1st Class, Zachary. It is a privilege to have you in our ranks.”
            Zack shook his hand with a little more restraint than he’d shown with Lazard, his deep blue eyes suspiciously bright. “Thank you, Seph-uh, I mean, General,” he stammered, suddenly conscious of the eyes on them.
            Sephiroth laughed a little at that. “You have been given permission to use my first name, Zack. Please, continue to do so.”
            “Yes, General Sephiroth, sir!” Zack looked inordinately pleased with himself as he bounded back to Angeal and slipped an arm around his waist. The older man sighed heavily even as he looped an arm around Zack’s shoulders. “You’re incorrigible, pup.”
            Zack laughed and shifted closer. “You wouldn’t want me any other way, Angeal, and you know it.”
            Angeal grunted even as he brushed his lips over the boy’s forehead. “Incorrigible,” he repeated with another, lighter sigh.
            The hair rose on the back of Sephiroth’s neck and he turned, finding the source of his instincts’ sudden warning. Cloud still sat in his seat, oblivious to the pandemonium around him, his brilliant blue gaze trained on him. Sephiroth glanced back at Zack and Angeal and made a decision. He looked back at Strife and lifted one hand, curling his fingers into a beckoning gesture, communicating his desires silently. The young warrior hesitated for only a moment before pushing himself to his feet, his expression guarded as he crossed the distance between them.
            Sephiroth turned to find Genesis, Angeal, and Zack all watching him with surprised expressions. “This is the Second I have been observing,” he explained as Strife climbed onto the stage to join them. “Cloud Strife, I would like you to meet General Hewley and Lieutenant Fair. General Rhapsodos, you already know.”
            “Sirs.” Cloud saluted once before dropping in an ‘at ease’ stance. “It is a pleasure to meet you, sirs.”
            Genesis merely inclined his head, while Angeal studied him with solemn midnight eyes. “You must be quite talented, to have caught General Sephiroth’s eye,” he said as he extended his hand.
            Cloud shook that hand firmly, the corners of his mouth inching up in what passed as the young man’s usual smile. “I try, sir.”
            Zack stepped forward and pumped Cloud’s hand enthusiastically. “Heya, I’m Zack. Nice to meet you.”
            “Cloud.” It was all Cloud could do to keep his churning emotions hidden as he released the older boy’s hand. “Nice to meet you, too.”
            Zack looked delighted to have someone his own age to talk to--or at--and began to do so. “So, where are ya from, Cloud?”
            A slight grimace accompanied the muttered, “Nibelheim.” The other boy began to laugh, and the memory of their original meeting burned through Cloud’s mind. “What about you?” he asked, lifting one hand to catch the boy’s attention as he tried to hide his mirth by turning away.

            “Me?” Zack turned back to him and thumped his chest once. “Gongaga.”

            Cloud covered his own mouth as laughter spilled forth, thinking that this felt more natural than it had any right to. Zack looked almost offended for a moment before his good nature kicked in. “Hey, what‘s so funny about that?” he asked with a typical Zack pout. “You know Gongaga?”
            “No, but. . .” Cloud hid a wince at the lie, “it’s such a backwater name.”
            Two jet black eyebrows rose at that. “Ditto, Nibelheim.”
            “Like you’ve been there,” Cloud shot right back.
            “I haven’t,” Zack admitted, adding, “But there’s a reactor there, right?”

            Cloud nodded, and Zack shrugged. “A mako reactor outside of Midgar usually means. . .”

            “. . .nothing else out there,” they said in unison.
            Zack looked surprised, and Cloud couldn’t help but laugh as he did. “Oh, I like you,” the older boy said through his mirth. “So, you wanna come celebrate with us?”
            Cloud’s big blue eyes widened with surprise at the sudden invitation. “I--”
            Zack turned to Angeal and crossed his arms over his chest. “We are going to celebrate, right?”
            Angeal sighed--heavily--before nodding. “We’re only going as far as the First Class mess,” he added warningly.
            “Good enough for me.” Zack flashed another grin at his newfound friend and said, “So, how about it?”
            “I-uh-well, sure,” Cloud stammered at last.
            “Cool.” Zack clapped his hands together, grinned evilly, and made his way to the microphone. “I, Zack Fair, 1st Class extraordinaire, am going to the 1st Class Mess Hall. I am going to get drunk, get laid, and generally raise hell. Anybody else want to come?”

            The chorus of cheers that rose was thunderous and nearly deafening. “Oh, I am going to strange the little bastard!” Genesis hissed angrily, affronted at the very notion of drinking with a virtual army of lowly Seconds and Thirds.
            Angeal only sighed again, looking very put-upon, as he dragged his young lover away from the podium. “Zack, you realize that there’s not enough room for,” he made an all-encompassing gesture with his free hand, “all of them in the mess.”
            “I know,” Zack returned far too cheerfully.
            Sephiroth echoed his friend’s sigh as he shook his head. “You are a menace, Zachary.”
            Zack merely scratched the back of his head, his innocent expression belied by the wicked glint in his mako-blue eyes. “Don’t worry,” he said with mock solemnity. “I’ll keep the worst of the fanboys off of you, General. I’m sure that Genesis can handle all the rest.”
            The redheaded First made a strangled sound and lunged for the younger man. Angeal stepped between them, his noble features taking on a stern cast. “There will be none of that,” he stated flatly. “You are both Firsts, and I expect you to act like it. Understood?”
            Genesis snorted and tossed his fiery head in an irritated gesture. “Do not treat me like a child, Angeal Hewley!”
            “Then, don’t act like one. As for you. . .” he turned to Zack, who was looking down at the floor, already thoroughly chastised, and said, “you will apologize to General Rhapsodos--immediately.”
            Zack peeked up through his thick ebony bangs, flinching at the unyielding expression on his lover’s face, before looking at Genesis. “I’m sorry, Genesis. I was just messing around. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
            Genesis huffed as he looked away, visibly reigning in his legendary temper. “Apology accepted,” he said with as much dignity as he could muster.
            Zack hesitated before asking, “You’re still coming to the party, right?”
            Surprise flickered over aristocratic features as the older man replied, “Of course, I am.”
            The newly promoted First let out a relieved breath, and Sephiroth had to hide a smile. Zack had never quite gotten used to Genesis’ quicksilver mood swings, and he had always been unsure as to whether or not Angeal’s oldest friend actually liked him. Sephiroth could have told him that Genesis was quite fond of him, even if he himself was unsure of how to respond to such a vibrant, hyperactive personality.
            Cloud eyed the Scarlet General warily, bothered by the rapid, seemingly unpredictable mood swings that he had exhibited in the last few minutes. While he didn’t remember enough of his time here as a cadet to be sure, he wondered if the instability that Sephiroth had mentioned hadn’t already begun. In the five days since his confrontation with Sephiroth, he had managed to glean quite a bit of information from campus gossip concerning Genesis Rhapsodos, and none of it was good.

            He had been labeled as arrogant, condescending, supercilious, hot-headed, and worse. Self-righteous prick had been Cloud’s personal favorite, especially when it had been followed by a crude comment concerning Sephiroth’s apparent fondness for them. Cloud had nearly burst out laughing himself at that one.
            Still, he had to remind himself that he was being unfair. He remembered almost nothing about the redheaded First, save that he was supposed to be second only to Sephiroth in skill, and that Zack had somehow managed to defeat him in battle. If what Sephiroth had told him was true, then the instability would come from learning something about himself that he couldn’t handle. He was wondering what could have possibly been so bad that it would send the man into a psychological tailspin when a flash of silver caught his eye.
            Sephiroth was staring at him, a warning in the depths of those cold green eyes, as he shifted closer to the other man in a discreetly protective move. The flash of silver had been his hair, and it triggered a painful image of the man, surrounded by flames, that same hair swaying as Sephiroth turned away from the inferno he had created of Nibelheim. That was when the realization struck.
            Genesis was somehow like Sephiroth.
            It explained everything, Cloud thought with a mental start. Everybody knew that Hollander and Hojo were rivals, and that they had both worked under Gast Faremis, the scientist who had originally discovered Jenova’s remains. At this point in time, they were competing against one another for the position of Director of the Science Department. Genesis and Angeal Hewley were under Dr. Hollander’s care, and had been for most of their lives, if company scuttlebutt was true. They were also the same age as Sephiroth was supposed to be now at twenty-five. If Hojo hadn’t been above using Jenova’s cells to create the perfect warrior, then it stood to reason that Hollander would have done the same in an insane attempt to compete with his fiercest rival.
            Jenova’s cells, coupled with Mako, tended to cause mental instability in those infected with them. Sephiroth, Kadaj and his brothers. . .even he himself had not been immune. It would certainly go a long way towards explaining the moodiness exhibited by the redheaded SOLDIER. While he didn’t know about Hewley, Zack had only been exempt because his previous SOLDIER treatments had left him with an immunity to the Reunion effect, which meant that Jenova hadn’t been able to manipulate him. Obviously, Genesis hadn’t been so lucky.
            Cloud’s gaze flicked from Sephiroth to Genesis and back again before he nodded his understanding. Sephiroth’s tense stance didn’t change, but a bit of the hardness faded from his glowing green gaze. Cloud knew without asking that he had guessed correctly, and that Sephiroth would fight to the death to defend the man he had nearly destroyed the world for. Fortunately for him, Cloud had no intention of provoking that fight. He understood his nemesis’ feelings all too well.
            Kadaj, he thought with longing. Wherever you are, wait for me. I’ll be there soon.
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Final Fantasy VII: Angelic Threnody