//Fire terrorized the small village. It had come so suddenly the citizens
thought they were still dreaming as they opened their eyes. Surreal the flames
seemed, from another place. The children stared at their neighbor’s
burning estates, smoke rising in their eyes, unable to move their feet because
there was so much beauty in that glowing pyre fueled with the power of the
souls of the dead.
Sephiroth stood in the center of the square. The moon was a terrible color,
shining like a demon's eye upon his birthplace. His hands were sturdy, but
his mind was in turmoil.
"I am not who you say-"
Laughter cut him off. Evil laughter, barely audible, was slowly filling his
ears.//
The shimmer that came through the window stabbed at Hojo's open eyes. Long
naked branches scratched at the glass; silhouettes appearing to take the
form of long-nailed fingers of ghouls. Across the room from him the grandfather
clock chimed steadily, signaling the time it was and the time he had left,
maddeningly rhythmic to hear - if he could hear.
But of course he couldn't.
Ah, the illusion was so perfect he even recognized this place. Recognized
that uneven brick patch of wall that concealed behind it all of Shinra's
scientific breakthroughs. He was laying on a bed, covered with white sheets
and drenched in dust, the same dust that blanketed all the furniture like
some form of parasite. And of course he recognized the view from his window,
not only the brightness of the moon but the gingerbread houses beyond that,
and in the distance, the awkward cylindrical construction that was the Nibelheim
well, where he had more than once wanted to visit during his physical stay
here but could never find the time to do so.
Beautiful. Too much so.
He turned over, frowning and pinched the bridge of his nose. Beautiful it
was, perfectly constructed like a hive of poisonous wasps. Nibelheim always
reminded him of someone else, perfected by nature and corroded by time. Vincent
had been so pretty it hurt to look at him, hurt to look at those startling
eyes and masculine form. One day Hojo thought he might go mad, watching the
Turk's eyes go up in flames. So beautiful. So beautiful he had to capture
that moment and seize that blood-rapture forever, to crystallize that anger,
that bitter defeat, that wonderfully fleeting lust!
Here in Nibelheim-
Lucrecia had screamed.
"Cyrus..."
She sat framed in moonlight. Full cheeks with slivers of tears creeping downwards
towards her beautifully long neck. But she was smiling. And her eyes were
hollow holes with a bare glint of white within them that identified that
she was still, somewhat, alive.
He inched closer, and yet he didn't move.
"Cyrus..." She called again. Long fingers brushed his face and caressed the
corner of his eyes. Fingernails settled in his flesh "Cyrus, our baby...he's
nearly here...What should we name him?"
Baby...Her stomach was swollen, like an over-ripe fruit ready to burst...or
rot. He couldn't stand the sight of it; like an afterthought added to her
body. Her entire frame seemed too thin and fragile to support it. Radiance
glowed from her, a black aura mingled at the edges with gold.
"I was thinking...Sephiroth."
//The soft laughter flew across the flames, a humming hurting Sephiroth's
ears so much he could not control the blade. He could not detect the fire,
and from their light his eyes were transformed from blue to red. His hands
were moist, but he did not know why. There were people screaming around him,
but they could not drown out the laughter. Soft as it was, beating in his
ears, driving him mad!//
He slapped her hand away, not surprised when it remained even as his did
not.
"The tree of life...he's going to grow up to be such a good little boy,
Cyrus..."
//"Mother!" Sephiroth cried. The laughter only intensified. There was a terrible
rhythm beating against his skull. Seized by desperation, fear and despair,
Sephiroth screamed again-//
Her smile, a skull. Her hands, bone through and over skin. Her stomach was
red and her hair hung about her shoulders, dead and limp.
"Lucrecia, Sephiroth is not alive." He muttered, drawing both hands to her
face and forcing himself to touch that cold skin, those prominent cheekbones
and those streaks of non-existent tears. "Isn't it time you let him
go?"
"Cyrus..."
//"Father!"//
He clamped both hands around her head; fingers digging into her eyes like
hers did to his. He saw the darkness around her brows intensify, saw her
mouth open in a void black as the night. He gripped tighter, until he forced
her eyes to open, her hands come up to try to wrestle him away. He seized
her face and pulled, pulled her eyes away and her face came as easily as
a blanket off the grand piano downstairs...
The dream broke away. Nibelheim vanished into the black hole his resistance
created, the light increased. The moon tumbled out of the sky and he lost
his grip.
//"Lucrecia!" Vincent screamed. "Sephiroth is dead!"//
At least he knew they also fell.
No more to give, Lucrecia. No more voice to scream and no more will to stand.
There she lay silent on the altar he found her on last before the world ended,
eyes staring, mouth slightly parted, skin so much like wax he could melt
it with his heat. Yet she was still strong enough to beckon him here; strong
enough to torment him with old memories long suppressed. To live on. What
else would Lucrecia have him do but to live on?
"Dreams. What a lie this is...But..."
Hojo almost laughed. So this was what it had come down to. Her old resilience,
the pride she held herself with, where had that gone? Where was the woman
who even in childbirth would not scream but bit her lower lip until blood
dripped down her chin?
"Oh, Lucrecia. You know the truth, don't you?"
He knelt down below the stairs so his head was just above hers and stroked
her hair. She was not dead; he designed it to be so. Bending down, he laid
a light kiss on her cold lips.
"I haven't done that for thirty-one years, Lucrecia." He croaked, smiling.
"After you, there was just no point to try and find another. You were a goddess,
and you had two most loyal worshippers, remember? We were determined to fight
to the death for you, but in the end it was my mouth on yours and my child
in your womb. Poor Vincent. But I always wonder what would have happened
to us - to all of us - if you had run away with him? What a beautiful romance
that would have made."
Beautiful. Too much so.
The woman gave no reply. Of course she wouldn't. He could hear the walls
moan with her unspoken words, her burdened passion.
"And look at you now. I want to say I don't know what happened, but I do.
I killed you, but you're not dead. I could revive you, but you won't be alive.
That is just the way JENOVA planned it... She can toy away with Sephiroth
and pull at his strings, but he's dead inside and she's powering a carcass.
And you wonder why she won't let you go, Lucrecia? You wonder why that even
though she haunts you, taunts you, terrorizes and hates you, you wonder why
she won't let you go...but you know the truth, don't you?"
The walls of the cave glowed. Green mist swirled within its surface, frantic,
possessed, raging. Lucrecia's face remained frozen.
"Our son is dead." He whispered. "And we will live because we are part of
JENOVA. If you die, so will I."
Hojo paused, and added: "And so will Vincent. We created Sephiroth, all four
of us. Sephiroth's soul could not live with itself."
//"Mother! Father!" Sephiroth's voice cut clean through the smoke. Nibelheim
was a nightmare he could not wake from. "Gods, help me!"//
Dreams. What a terrible mess. What did she mean to accomplish, sending those
silken fingers through the moonlight into his sleep? Nibelheim was not its
former self. The well repaired no longer gave water. The houses rebuilt could
not bring back its residents. Even in torment, a man's evil deeds have already
been done.
"We're all linked. We've been linked from the beginning. You know I loved
you, of course you know. Back then I could've done anything you told me to,
so young I was, and so unpopular that I could hardly believe my luck at getting
such a heavenly woman. But did you know, Lucrecia, that I loved Vincent too?
My love for Vincent could only be matched with my hatred for him. This love
overwhelmed me, so much it sometimes made me want to end my own life...or
his.
"So JENOVA used me...used this love to bind us together and make herself
stronger. She would not die unless we all died, such was her plan."
He drew in a breath.
"Do you know what that means?" He whispered. "Only one of US could kill you.
Vincent tried, oh he tried, but he failed. And Sephiroth? He never had a
soul. He is JENOVA's plaything, our byproduct. But if it means so much to
you, love..."
Placing one more kiss on her lips, he opened his eyes
"I will try to save him."
And awoke.
The clock beside his bed read 3:42. Hojo rubbed his eyes and looked out the
window. Midgar did not have any stars, but a flat yellow disc did appear
once in a while in the brown-gray skyline, and it seemed tonight he was
lucky.
"What a right little family we are." He muttered to himself, looking at the
moon, his vision blurring. "Two mothers, two fathers, governing over a son
who's already dead and all of us insane."
//When the only reply was the sound of the laughter, stronger than ever,
Sephiroth lowered his head and clenched his fists. Silver locks worthy of
envy from the moon caressed the bloodstained floor.
And when he looked up, there was a hideous grin on his face.//
Cyrus Hojo chuckled dryly, and put his head in his
hands.