Angels In Flight

Author's Note: The song for this part is Snow White Queen by Evanescence.

Thanks for the reviews... they made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside ^.^

Part III

Snow White Queen

Stoplight, lock the door
Don't look back.

When Sephiroth Crescent was born, he was, like any other child, an innocent creature with no concept of good or evil. But the scientists at Shinra very quickly noticed that the boy had another side to his personality. At three months old he started to exhibit violent behavior that no one had ever seen in a child that young before. The behavior never amounted to much-- there wasn't much a baby could do-- but it disturbed the scientists nonetheless. It seemed Project S was about to join the list of failures.

It took Hojo and his team a full month and a half of exhaustive observation and experimentation to determine that the behavior was the result of outside influence. It wasn't until Hojo observed Sephiroth's responses while in his lab that he realized whose influence it was.

The being known as Jenova, once thought to be in a vegetative state, exerted an incredible mental control that caused considerable alarm in Shinra's science department. While still non-responsive physically and verbally, some part of her lived on enough to use young Sephiroth-- who possessed a fair amount of her genetic material-- as a glorified marionette.

And she wasn't looking to communicate if her actions were any indication.

President Shinra-- after being briefed on Hojo's findings-- ordered Jenova to be sealed in one of the Mako reactors, where any sort of signals-- electronic or otherwise-- could not escape. And to air on the side of caution, they chose a reactor as far from Midgar as they could get without inconveniencing the science department.

Nibelheim.

The final security measure was an order placed in Sephiroth's medical files, and later, his personnel record, stating that he was never to be sent within a hundred miles of Nibelheim. But somewhere along the line, through all the years and staff changes, the order was misplaced.

So when Sephiroth was told that he and Zack would be going to Nibelheim to investigate the sightings of Genesis copies, he thought nothing of it. After all, he didn't know about the order, or Jenova. Hojo had only ever told him that Jenova was the name of his mother. A complete fabrication, of course, but Sephiroth didn't know that.

The ride to Nibelheim was uncomfortable to say the least. With each mile Sephiroth felt more and more... well, strange. He didn't get road-sick, nor did he suffer motion-sickness. He didn't get sick, period. So the fact that he was feeling so uncomfortable was worrisome enough.

By the time the truck rumbled to a halt at the town, Sephiroth felt dizzy, tired, and frankly, quite giddy. To top it all off, he still had no idea why.

He could tell that Zack had noticed. The dark-haired SOLDIER watched him with an equal mix of confusion and concern. Especially when he found himself laughing for no reason, and rambling about his lack of a hometown, and his mother-- or rather, what little he knew of her.

Part of him knew something was very wrong. But for some strange reason the rest of him refused to listen. He felt slow, sluggish, almost as if he'd been sedated. He tried to put up his guard, to mount his well-practiced defenses, but something stopped him. Deep in his gut something was calling to him.

He became very quiet, keeping to himself. Zack didn't seem overly concerned-- choosing to spend most of his time hanging out with Cloud, though the blond seemed distracted.

Sephiroth retreated into his room at the Inn, trying to ignore the alarm bells ringing in his mind, and the feeling of eyes on his back. He kept feeling like someone was behind him, and for a moment he would catch something in the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, nothing would be there.

Never had he been so unsettled.

Undress in the dark
and hide from you
all of you

In his darkened room, Sephiroth stripped down to nothing and checked himself for wounds-- bites, scratches, cuts, anything. There was nothing. No way poison could have got into his system; no way any sort of substance could have entered his bloodstream to make him feel like this.

What was going on?

He was afraid to face the others. Zack may not have been too worried, but he'd noticed the strange behavior. No doubt he'd commented on it to Cloud.

He needed to get his mind on something else. The obvious choice would be to get right on the mission, but he'd told Zack and Cloud that they could relax and have some fun. What was he supposed to do?

He was in the hall, staring out the window and pondering that question when Zack found him. Apparently he was equally as bored.

"This landscape," Sephiroth found himself saying before he could stop himself. "I could swear I've seen it before."

Zack looked at him strangely, but said nothing. Sephiroth supposed that was to be expected. Shaking off the extremely annoying deja vu, he turned to look at Zack, seeing concern in those Mako-blue eyes-- so very much like Angeal's.

"Are you ready to head to the reactor?"

"Not much else to do here, is there?" Zack replied with a shrug. "A small town is a small town."

Sephiroth smirked. "Good."

Something was calling him to the reactor. Something besides the presence he'd felt since they'd arrived. His gut was telling him that something-- someone-- important was up there. Maybe if he found them, he could forget about the ominous presence in the back of his mind.

As they made their way up Mount Nibel, toward the pollution-spewing reactor, Sephiroth felt the presence growing again in his mind. It started as the same lightheadedness he'd felt before, and grew into a dizzy nausea. His head started to pound, and another mind touched his. For a fleeting second he tasted another's thoughts-- violence, pain, death, fear. Ages of darkness and silence.

Pain spiked through his head, and Sephiroth was dearly grateful that Zack and Cloud were out of earshot as he hissed in agony.

Forcing one foot, then the other, forward, he steadily climbed the path, not giving the others a chance to catch up. He didn't want to face Zack's questions. He would rather fight this battle alone.

The pain reached a crescendo as he crested the hill and stood before the reactor. He could feel something tearing at his mental defenses, trying desperately to enter his mind.

Whatever it was, it was angry.

However, as Sephiroth stepped toward the door the pain and the presence retreated. His mind felt clear. His eyes stopped watering, and he felt lighter.

As he awaited Zack, Cloud, and their not-so-modestly clad guide-- Tifa-- he carefully rebuilt and patched his tattered defenses. Never had he felt so close to losing to another mind. He'd fought creatures that tried to get in his head, but nothing like this. Never had his mental firewall been so damaged.

Footsteps crunched behind him, and Zack and Tifa's voices sounded-- laughing and discussing something about selling flowers in Midgar. Sephiroth ignored them and started up the reactor's stairs. Someone was in there. They were waiting for him.

You'll never know the way
your words have haunted me

The entire time they were in the reactor, Sephiroth could feel that they were being watched. Even as he stared into the Mako tank at what was apparently his kindred. But there was something familiar about this presence-- warm and fiery; soothing and yet infuriating. He knew it.

So when that smooth, silky voice sounded, "No such luck. You are a monster," and without warning, Zack was knocked off his feet by a blast of magic, Sephiroth was ready for the other that came streaking toward him. He effortlessly blocked the crackling torpedo of energy, watching through it as it dissipated to see a figure flit overhead-- red coat snapping, black feathers catching the lights.

As angry as he felt, hope and love still welled in his chest at the sight of his lover. For too long he'd believed Genesis dead. After Modeoheim... Sephiroth had nearly died himself when he got the news. He'd been tasked with clearing out Genesis' quarters, and he'd found himself crying and cursing Zack, even though he knew Zack had only done what was necessary-- and that Genesis himself had been the one to jump.

Sephiroth figured that was Genesis' kind of way to go. He'd always had a flair for the dramatics. That final, fatal leap was his style. He'd denied Zack his victory.

But somewhere deep down, Sephiroth had never truly believed that his dear fox was gone. He'd always felt like things weren't over. Some small part of him remained convinced that he'd see Genesis again.

And now here he was, watching the redhead descend the metal steps of the Nibelheim reactor. He smiled, went to speak-- to say all the things he'd been wanting to say for three years. After all, he had told Zack that he may have to abandon Shinra. He'd decided before coming here that if he found Genesis, he'd leave with him. Finally take him up on his offer.

But those thoughts were interrupted by a surge of inexplicable anger. A rage from deep inside his mind-- anger, betrayal, hate. For no reason he could understand, he felt an irresistible compulsion to hurt the redhead. To make him pay for all he'd done.

He betrayed you ... abandoned you. His own revenge was more important to him than your love.

Sephiroth couldn't tell whether the words were his own thoughts, or those of another. Was it back? Or was he really feeling this seething hate himself?

"Sephiroth..." Genesis intoned, his voice carrying warmth and such deep affection that it made Sephiroth want to cry and kiss him, and hold him, and yet he still felt angry. Everything that had happened to him, all the things he'd learned in the last few days were still churning through his head, and despite whatever good intentions Genesis might have had, his next words stung.

"You were the greatest monster created by the Jenova Project," the redhead continued, his eyes fixed on Sephiroth.

A groan announced Zack's return to consciousness, his words cutting off any response Sephiroth had been trying to formulate. "Genesis... So you are alive!"

A borderline seductive grin lit Genesis' face as his burning eyes flicked to Zack. His hand drifted daintily to his cheek, just brushing the pale, dying flesh.

"I suppose I am, if you can call this living." His shaggy, now grey-streaked hair fell loosely around his face, the only colour in his features provided by his typically tasteful application of make-up. Something in Sephiroth's chest constricted having to look at his lover in such a state. Like a cancer, the degradation was slowly killing him; bit by bit, cell by cell. He was watching Genesis die.

"What is the Jenova Project?" Sephiroth forced himself to ask.

Genesis' attention returned to his abandoned lover; feline, teal eyes bereft of any hope. Only resignation floated in their depths. "The Jenova Project was the term used for all experiments relating to the use of Jenova's cells."

Sephiroth frowned. "My mother's cells?"

Genesis' expression changed to a teasing cheekiness that Sephiroth had only ever seen when they were alone together.

"Poor little Sephiroth. You've never actually met your mother," he lowered himself almost wearily onto the stairs. "You've only been told her name, no?"

Sephiroth turned away, both sad and sickened by how his lover's mind had decayed into a twisted, distorted realm of obsession and vengeance.

"I don't know what images you've conjured up in your head, but..."

"Genesis, no!" Zack shouted, struggling to pull himself from the floor. Before he could even begin to scrabble up off the metal grate of the floor, Genesis spoke again, his voice carrying like a theater performer.

"Jenova was excavated from a 2000-year-old rock layer," he paused, watching Sephiroth for a moment. "She's a monster."

Part of Sephiroth had been expecting as much, but he still felt a lump rise in his throat at the words. Like mother, like son... a monster begets a monster... Did that mean...?

"Sephiroth..." Genesis continued, breaking the silver-haired man's stream of thought. The cruel, teasing tone had left his voice, which had lowered in volume. "I need your help. My body is continuing to degrade..."

Sephiroth tried to swallow the knot in his throat and refused to turn around. As badly as he wanted to do anything to help the man he'd fallen so deeply in love with, he was afraid to look upon the madman that had replaced him.

"SOLDIER First Class Sephiroth!" Genesis called, as if like a drill sergeant. "Jenova Project G gave birth to Angeal and monsters like myself. Jenova Project S..."

You're not a monster, Sephiroth thought to himself. You're a man... my Genesis.

"...used the remains of countless failed experiments to create a perfect monster."

"What do you want of me?" Sephiroth demanded, sounding colder and angrier than he'd intended.

"Your traits cannot be copied unto others. Your genes can't be diffused. Therefore, your body cannot degrade." Genesis reached into his scarlet coat, plucking a violet-skinned apple from the depths of a pocket. "Share your cells with me." He held the fruit out to Sephiroth, just like the ones they used to share in the orchard. "My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the Goddess."

Sephiroth scowled, feeling all his rage, his hurt, boil over into something blank. Emotions roiled and seethed and then disappeared. A disturbingly familiar voice wormed its way into his mind once again, speaking as if right in his ear.

He wants your forgiveness... The image in Sephiroth's mind of Banora-- trees in bloom-- changed to one of destruction-- the trees burning, the landscape turned to ash. He destroyed all you had, and now he asks your forgiveness. He doesn't deserve it... He doesn't deserve you... You know that. He wants your cells so he can live... reject him, as he has rejected you.

Sephiroth snarled, turning to face Genesis, his eyes burning with anger. He took a step forward, his voice blank and emotionless. "Whether your words are lies created to deceive me, or the truth that I have sought all my life, it makes no difference..." He batted the violet fruit from Genesis' hand.

The smirk on Genesis' face vanished; the gleam leaving his eyes as the apple fell to the floor. He pulled his empty hand against his chest, clutching it as if wounded, and saying nothing.

"You will rot."

As Sephiroth walked away, he cursed himself and screamed inside his head. How could he have refused Genesis? Refused him the means to his survival? He wanted to rush back to him, to embrace him and give him all he asked for, but he couldn't stop his feet; couldn't turn around. He just kept going; back down Mount Nibel and to the outskirts of the sleepy town below.

A perfect monster, Genesis had said. Project S... the Jenova Project. Hojo had always said that Jenova was the name of Sephiroth's mother... So if she was a 2000-year-old monster, how could she be his mother?

As Sephiroth passed an offshoot of the mountain trail he caught a glimpse of the wrought iron gates of Shinra Manor, and paused. Perhaps the files and lab notes for the Jenova Project would be in its library. Those would answer his questions.

With a furtive glance back at where Zack, Cloud, and Tifa were stumbling down the mountain, Sephiroth turned toward the gate.

Why had he wanted so badly to hurt Genesis? What had the man ever done besides love him? So he was trying to get revenge, striking out at everyone he perceived to have wronged him, but he was still the man that Sephiroth had always known. He still loved him. He still wanted Sephiroth to run away with him. So why did Sephiroth feel such hate and betrayal? Where was this anger coming from?

Why do you mourn a love that was never there?

I can't believe you'd ask these things of me
You don't know me

The file storage library was a puzzle to find, especially since Sephiroth wasn't asking anyone. He knew he didn't have authorization to view the documents, but he didn't care. If he was, as Genesis believed, an experiment, he wanted to know.

The room was small, lined wall to wall with books and folders. A single rickety wooden table stood in the center of the space, a lamp and a few pens littered on its surface. The smell of dust and old parchment clogged Sephiroth's nostrils, nearly gagging him. Apparently the housekeeper didn't have access to this room either.

Sephiroth shut the door behind himself with a resonating thump. As the sound echoed around the room-- with an ominous degree of finality-- the now familiar pain spiked in his head and flashes of images jumped into his mind.

Green light... a metal clamp emblazoned with the word JENOVA... tubes... wires...

Sephiroth clutched his forehead as the voice returned.

Find me... Free me, Sephiroth... The last image Sephiroth saw was a pair of lavender, glowing eyes that burned onto his retinas. When the pain subsided, and his eyes opened, the phantom image still floated in his vision; reddish and dancing with static.

Sephiroth felt his stomach twist in anxiety. He'd never felt like this before... He didn't know if he could keep whatever this creature was, out.

Genesis had said his mother was a monster. Was this voice Jenova? Was this presence the mother he'd never known? If she was, why was she so vindictive, so cruel? Why did she want so badly to hurt Genesis?

Putting aside his fears and breathing through the last of the pain, Sephiroth stepped into the heart of the room. The books appeared to be organized in chronological order. Some of the earlier logs were tattered and well-worn; their pages frayed where countless fingers had turned them. There were notes from the early 60's; before they'd even called it the Jenova Project. The most recent gleamed with fresh binding and gold numerals. Everything was stamped with red ink that read 'Top Secret' or 'Classified'.

Swallowing, Sephiroth reached for a deep blue volume with '1966' marked on it. The year before he was born. Part of him wanted to put the book back on the shelf, turn his back on the room and never think on the matter again. But Genesis-- and a presence he could barely understand-- had forced his hand.

Opening the dusty volume, Sephiroth began to read.

You belong to me
My snow white queen

As he delved, page by page, into the twisted experiments and even more deformed, distorted results that they produced, he found his gut roiling and clenching with rage, hate, and despair. Each entry held some new horror, some fresh revelation.

Jenova-- the 2000-year-old monster that Gast and his men had thought an Ancient. Project G-- the failed attempt to create the perfect SOLDIER-- and the two unfortunate children who found themselves part of it. And most painful-- himself, the half-breed mongrel that Hojo had created.

When he finished the first volume Sephiroth found another, this one marked '1967'. Within an hour he was finished, and took another-- '1960'. Strangely, he found that half way through his sixth book, he felt less angry. The stronger emotions were fading to background noise-- rage became irritation, hate became dislike, despair became a muted sadness. He felt calm, though moments before he'd felt more vulnerable than he ever had in his life. Where seconds ago his blood had boiled with the desire for vengeance he was now cool and composed; unfazed.

Somewhere in the back of Sephiroth's mind he knew that this faded, emotionless feeling was unnatural, but as he tried to fight it, he felt himself pushed deeper into the recesses of his mind. He'd lost control... or rather, was losing it.

In rising fear, Sephiroth lashed out at the other presence in his brain. To nearly any other being the mental onslaught would have been fatal. But the harder Sephiroth fought, the more ground he lost. He could no longer move his body; could no longer speak. In his ears a cold, cruel laugh echoed, ringing sharp in the void of telepathic connection.

Come to me, my son... my puppet...

No, Sephiroth replied inside his mind. Whatever you are--

I am your mother...

Impossible.

Sephiroth felt anger that was no his own rise in his chest as the voice spoke again. I will show you.

His body moved of it's own accord, stepping once more to the bookshelf, removing another volume and tossing aside the one he'd been reading. The spine was marked '1962'.

Sephiroth tried once more to wrench back control over his body, but the other shoved back even harder. He felt his consciousness being forced in two; one half of him confined to a distant corner of his brain, the other half blindly obeying the commands of this creature that claimed to be his mother.

He watched from his new shackles as eyes swept page after page of scientific data. The raw measurements from the first experiments-- the failures.

There's nowhere to run
So let's just get it over

Over the next four days Sephiroth watched, unblinking and sleepless, as book after book was opened, page after page burned into his retinas. The last few failures, the beginnings of Project S; the failure of Project G. Sephiroth was vaguely aware of Zack's periodic check-ins, and each time the part of him still capable of free thought screamed out for help.

No sound escaped his lips, and Zack left him alone with his silent tormentor. For the first time in his life, Sephiroth felt true, gut-wrenching terror. He had no control at all over his actions. He couldn't speak, couldn't move his body or look around. Every tiny action was under this thing's rein.

Soon I know you'll see
You're just like me

What was worst was that Sephiroth couldn't shut out the information he was being forced to read. With each line, paragraph, measurement and data chart he felt less and less human and more and more like the monsters outside. Was this how Genesis had felt all this time?

What do you want of me? Sephiroth asked in his mind, projecting the question to whatever was listening.

I want you to see what you are ... what I am ... I want you to free me... The response was accompanied by chills and a strange prickling sensation in the back of his eyes. An image rose again in his mind-- a woman imprisoned... Jenova. Her hair was long and silver as moonlight, her eyes a bright, glowing lavender. You were taken from me ... and I have waited here-- waited to be freed ... and here you are ... my son.

Don't scream anymore my love
Cause all I want is you

For another two days Sephiroth huddled in the back of his mind, his brain filling with things he didn't need or want to know. Had he been in control of his body he would have wept, or fled from the manor and disappeared into the night, never to be seen by Shinra again. But he remained a prisoner in his own flesh. Part of him wanted to accept the emotional lifeline that this Jenova was offering... after all, she was his mother. But alarm bells kept ringing. Why would a mother put her child in such a chokehold? Why, when he struggled, did he come up against brick walls that sent stabs of unimaginable pain shooting through him?

It was midday, seven days after he'd entered the room that he began to feel an even stranger sensation. It was like he was slipping away from himself. He felt less and less afraid; less and less inclined to fight the presence in his mind.

Maybe she was right ... maybe she was his mother ... no ... What was he thinking? How could he...? Was he giving in? Was he breaking?

Wake up in a dream
Frozen fear
All your hands on me
I can't scream

Jenova had already seized his body, was she now seizing his mind? The thought chilled what remained of his rapidly deteriorating psyche.

Oh, come on, would it really be that bad? Would letting go be so awful? Sometimes you need to let someone else take control... No! Don't think like that!

He wanted to kill them-- the villagers-- for... what exactly? They hadn't done-- no, they'd imprisoned her. They'd kept her locked away from the world; from him. They'd kept a mother from her son. They needed to pay.

I can't... SOLDIERs have honour... to kill without provocation or a direct order from Shinra... They have to die. All of them.

With the last strength Sephiroth had within him he connected to the warm presence that was Genesis-- projecting a desperate cry for help over the somewhat tenuous telepathic link. He never received an answer.

The few parts of his mind refusing to submit were forced into dormancy and he felt himself drifting away. The last thing Sephiroth saw before his consciousness gave way was the clock ticking to 9:00 PM. Had it really been that long?

Fury and murderous hatred flooded his veins and he liked it. Golden flames crackled around his clenched fist as he called Masamune to him. The residents of Nibelheim would pay for their treachery with blood. Every man, woman, and child. No one would be spared.

Burn it to the ground, his mother urged him, her silky voice purring in his ear.

Sephiroth smiled, turning and sweeping from the room, kicking the door from its hinges effortlessly. The monsters in the caverns beyond fled before him; but he killed them nonetheless. Masamune was already stained with dark blood when it found the throat of the Infantryman guarding the manor's gate.

The first villagers he found were a group of children playing in the gorge outside town. He felt nothing as he took their lives one by one. When the echoes of their screams had faded, Sephiroth moved on; practically gliding towards town.

His next victims were a pair of women who'd heard the screams and come to investigate. When he was finished with them-- their blood mingling with that on Masamune's blade-- he allowed the flames around his right fist to fly free-- catching the wooden roof and fence of the nearest building. The dwelling erupted in flames spectacularly and Sephiroth smiled when he heard screams inside.

In the dryness the flames spread quickly, and the eaves of the next house caught fire almost instantly. Teal eyes sparkling with firelight fixed on their next target. A man with a camera, frozen in fear near the water tower.

"What are you doing?!" he shrieked, his camera dropping to the tinder-dry earth. Sephiroth said nothing, surging forward inhumanly fast and driving his katana through the man's chest. Confusion and fear were the last things to fill the man's chocolate eyes before he fell.

I can't escape the twisted way you think of me
I feel you in my dreams and I don't sleep

Sephiroth's true self snapped back into awareness as the rest of him cut down the few men and women who were putting up a defense-- however pitiful it was. He mourned the blissful ignorance he'd been entombed in, however briefly.

So there was to be no peace for him; no sweet delusion of rest. No blissful sleep would keep these horrors from him. He was to be forced to watch the light leave the eyes of each human being who faced him, powerless to stop his own hand.

He distantly felt each emotion and thought that went through the mind of his new self. But it was as if he and his body were two completely different people. Sephiroth wondered if this part of his personality had existed all along, somewhere in the back of his soul; this murdering butcher-- this monster.

Sephiroth tried to reach out to Genesis, but found that the part of his mind that would have allowed him to contact his fellow SOLDIER was completely under its control. All he had left was his self-awareness; all she would allow him was existence-- nothing more.

He watched through eyes he could no longer control as villager after villager was slaughtered and building after building ignited. He watched in utter revulsion as his own hands finished off the men and the women and sought out the children-- powerless to defend themselves. How had he ever been capable of this?

I can't save your life
Though nothing I bleed for is more tormenting.

Screams echoed over the crags and through the gorge. Shouts and howls and pleas for mercy. At first it had been unclear what exactly was going on, but soon enough Genesis had heard the voices speak a name; horror carried on their words. Sephiroth.

He curled his wing around himself, shivering despite the warm air. He'd helped this happen. He'd driven Sephiroth to this vulnerability. He'd made it possible for her to take him.

The indigo sky stained with blood as flames leapt into the air. The town was burning and Genesis alone was to blame. Why couldn't he have just kept his damned mouth shut; kept his bitterness to himself?

A blast of wind hit the crimson-clad man, tossing his hair and ruffling his ebony feathers-- carrying on it the scent of burning thatch and flesh. Evidence of the massacre below.

"What have I done?" Genesis muttered to himself. "Gods, what have I done?"

He refused to tear his cerulean eyes from the awful spectacle, refused to allow himself to gain a reprieve from his shame. He had to start taking responsibility for his actions-- had to start paying penance for his sins.

"I'm sorry, Sephiroth," he quietly said. "I abandoned you to this... abandoned you when you needed me most... I will make amends." He paused, swallowing his fear and grief. "I promise."

I'm losing my mind and you just
Stand there and stare as
My world divides

Why had Genesis helped this? Aided her? Had he known this would happen? Had he wanted Sephiroth to fall, so he would know how he felt?

No. Genesis wouldn't have done this knowingly. He may have been out for revenge, but he wouldn't do anything that he knew would result in massacre. He wouldn't have wanted collateral damage. He was angry, obsessed, bitter, and he hated Shinra. But he wasn't bloodthirsty. The Nibelheim townsfolk weren't targets for him.

He couldn't have known what his words would do. Perhaps he thought Sephiroth would want to know the truth. He'd seemed pretty certain that Sephiroth would take up his offer back at the reactor-- and had seemed so surprised at the rejection.

Did he feel any remorse now? Was he watching somewhere? Did he see what he'd turned his lover into?

Questions were all Sephiroth had now. All he could do was question and wonder and think. Any attempt at any sort of physical action was met by the brick wall that was her control. But it didn't stop him from trying.

Sephiroth winced when She struck down the Infantryman guarding the Inn-- Cloud. The poor buy was alive, that much was certain, but he wouldn't be for much longer, not with how quickly the fire was spreading.

He knew Cloud's mother was already dead. He remembered watching his own blade take her life. She'd been just as blonde as her son, her eyes the same blue.

Where was Zack? Why wasn't he doing something? Was he still asleep in his bed in the Inn? Had he already been caught in the fire?

Sephiroth watched-- stuck along for the ride-- as his body stepped through the towering flames, heading inexorably toward the stairs into the mountain trail. The trail that would lead him to the reactor.

Come find me...

"Sephiroth?!"

The General turned, cat eyes locking on Zack. The black-haired young man looked confused and horrified. His eyes flicked from the bodies of the dead to the burning houses and then back to Sephiroth.

"I'm coming to get you..." Sephiroth's body said, stealing his voice. But it wasn't Sephiroth that had chosen the words. He didn't even know why they were directed at Zack or in response to Jenova's words.

Zack just stared, bewildered, as Sephiroth walked away, starting up the stone steps. A roaring updraft of hot, smoky air followed Sephiroth up into the gorge, where it became a superheated maelstrom-- swirling and lashing blasts of boiling air tossing his hair and coat. He barely felt it.

All his attention was focused on the soft sounds of a one-man pursuit. Sephiroth knew it was Zack. Jenova knew it too, and her sick anticipation of his death made Sephiroth's gut twist. He hoped the boy could wield the sword he carried as well as its previous owner. Secretly he prayed Zack would wield it well enough to land a fatal strike.

Sephiroth couldn't fight this creature in his mind; couldn't stop her. But Zack could. The only way to stop her was to die. It was the least he could do.

Please, Zack, he thought. Strike true. End this before it can get worse.

You belong to me
My snow white queen
There's nowhere to run so let's just get it over
Soon I know you'll see
You're just like me
Don't scream anymore my love
Cause all I want is you

But alas-- death was not freedom.