By: Mags

Cloud, for once, was at a loss for words. He at down at the kitchen table and started on the late breakfast that Tifa had prepared at his request. Normally, he had nothing but good things to say about Tifa’s cooking, but today it tasted bland, like he was chewing on a block of wood, or a sheet of cardboard. He was a total wreck of a man, and he knew that he had to do something about it. He sat in stoic silence at the table, his mind wandering…exploring his possibilities, to which he found frighteningly few.

Tifa, meanwhile, was attempting to get a crack in the blank, expressionless face that Cloud was currently sporting. But despite all that she did or tried, she could not seem to get his to even smile. Her greatest efforts seemed lost and futile, and it was quite disturbing to her.

Cloud was noticing what Tifa was doing, though, and for her sake, was able to force a weak smile, but it quickly faded. He turned away from her again, and resumed his quiet meal. Tifa gave him a concerned look, but said nothing. She took a moment to blow a few stray bangs out of her eyes and began to twist the end of her ponytail around her finger, a nervous habit that she had recently seemed to have picked up. She looked back over at Cloud, who was slowly finishing the remaining scraps on his plate, then gulped it down with a glass of water.

While Cloud had been quiet on the outside, his mind was racing, scanning all his possibilities and options. His mind was a sea of possibilities, but this new threat he faced seemed to be a whirlpool powerful enough to drain such a sea. He knew he had to act, and fast, before it had the chance to do so. He had hoped that the dreams about Sephiroth had been merely a dream, a figment of his overactive imagination, but those hopes were quickly being dashed. He knew that he had to do something though. That much was obvious. He knew that there was no way that he was going to let Sephiroth destroy everything that he loved and cared for again without a fight. But how did he fight a spirit? That was the question at hand, and one he, at the moment, had no answer to. Cloud raised his glass to his face, and took a sip of water. As he was putting it down, there was a flash of white, and Cloud was teleported somewhere else.

Cloud was trying to figure out where the hell he was. Wherever he was, the place was a wreck. There was dust and crumbling walls everywhere he looked. He looked around again, taking in the surroundings. There was something distantly familiar about this place to him, but he couldn’t quite figure it out. He looked over to the far wall, where a huge boulder had crashed into what looked like a large desk, with stools around it. The entire area was decimated. He walked around the boulder, and saw that there were collapsed shelves on the wall. He looked at the floor, and saw the dusty and shattered remains of what looked like dozens of bottles. He picked up the wrapper of one of them, and blew on it. A cloud of dust flew up in his face, and he sneezed. He rubbed his nose, then looked back at the wrapper. It was still a bit dusty, so he rubbed off the remaining dust. The label read Midgar Lite in bright blue letters surrounded in a black circle with a small picture of Midgar in the background. Cloud let out a silent gasp. He had not seen Midgar Lite ever since he had left Midgar with Tifa, Barret, Aeris, and Red back when they were fighting the ShinRa. That meant that he was in the remains of a Midgar bar, and given his current situation, he had a good idea where he was.

"Tifa’s Seventh Heaven," Cloud guessed aloud.

As if in response, a motor started up and Cloud looked to the opposite wall. A light was coming up from the basement. The elevator was moving. Cloud got in a ready stance, just incase he had to fight it out with someone or something. But the elevator was deserted, but strangely, it looked like it was the only thing in the entire bar that was not run down or demolished. In fact it looked downright new. Cloud cautiously stepped over towards it, not sure of what to expect. He stepped up to the machine, and looked inside. It was not the circus machine that normally had resided in Tifa’s 7^th Heaven. Instead, a sinister black and gray machine had replaced it, complete with a grinning Sephiroth in the center of the backboard.

Cloud stifled a laugh.

"Sephiroth must be running out of ideas," he thought. But then his gaze reached the board itself.

He saw himself, but not as a reflection. Inside, he was literally under glass. Inside the machine he was pounding on the glass in a pathetic attempt to break free.

Cloud sneered and called out, "If this is the best you can do then you might as well give up now!"

There was no answer. No sounds at all save his own voice echoing off the broken walls and shattered objects. Nothing.

But from nothing, there came something. Laughing. It shattered the silence like a hammer to a glass plate, making Cloud spin around several times in a futile attempt to identify the source. But he found none. Then a thought hit him. He turned towards the pinball machine to look at the Sephiroth head that rested on it, but unlike the other ‘dreams’ he had had; the head was not the source of the laughter, which was now getting louder by the minute. Soon it sounded less like laughing then a beating heart. A heart that was beating faster and faster. The sound of the beating was pounding into his head as though someone were standing on his head and ringing a gong between his ears. He fell to his knees, his hands clamped over his ears like a vice, squeezing his head so hard it felt like he would crush his skull. Soon, he collapsed under his own weight. His eardrums had long since turned to jelly. Soon after, his heart burst. His last few minutes were spent coughing up blood and vomit, unable to get a fix on any of his surroundings, his brain in overload as his mouth began to foam. A minute later he was dead, and his whole world was black.

It was dark and the only noise he heard was what sounded like a strong wind whipping around the perimeter of wherever he was. He knew he had died, but where that had taken him he had no idea. There was nothing to touch, nothing to smell, and most importantly nothing to see.

"I wish I could see," he thought aloud.

As if on cue, the room lit up. Not a bright light, but rather a dull glow. Not enough to distinguish individual objects but enough to be able to see where the shadows began and ended to an extent. To his surprise he found that he was very much alive and well, and in a large, featureless room. The only specific detail about it was the black and white checkered floor tiles that spotted the floor he rested on. The reason that he couldn’t earlier tell that he was on such a floor was because that each tile was surprisingly large, about seven square feet in area, and laid out in a checkerboard-like fashion. The whole situation was quite odd, but from his experienced thus far, he figured that it was most likely the least of his worries.

As if to verify his worries, there was a loud explosion and from the black and white tiles rose gigantic marble statues. Suddenly, it hit him. This was a chessboard, albeit a very big chess board.

As he looked on the behemoth pawns came into view. Each and every pawn had his exact likeness etched into it. Everything down to his cocky victory pose, his sword slung over his shoulder effortlessly.

Cloud was unimpressed.

"You have too much time on your hands," Cloud called to the King, which as he expected was Sephiroth.

"Of course I do. I have all the time in the world," came the response, but not from the chess piece. Instead it came from behind him. As he watched, the pawns ripped themselves off the stands and began to melt themselves into liquidy ooze, which piled together into a giant puddle, from which Sephiroth rose.

"What is the purpose of this nonsense?" Cloud demanded.

"Nonsense? My dear Cloud, my dear, dear puppet, everything I do has a purpose."

"Stop calling me a puppet!" Cloud cried, drawing his sword.

"Or what? You’ll attack me with that useless thing? You forget, puppet, that this is a mindscape, where anything is possible to that which is in control. And I am the one in control. Your sword might as well be a bouquet of flowers."

And with a wave of his hand, that’s exactly what his weapon was. Cloud stared in disbelief as his most powerful weapon was reduced to a handful of posies.

Cloud threw them to the ground in disgust.

"Oh, and never underestimate the power of one’s imagination," Sephiroth warned.

With a twist of his palm the posies turned into large vines that threw Cloud into the air and held him in a vice-like grip. Sephiroth floated up to him not inches from his face.

"Before you die yet again in here, I need to ask if you are beginning to see the whole picture here."

Cloud licked some blood from his split lip and spit it at Sephiroth, hitting him on the cheek.

"Go to hell," he growled.

Sephiroth frowned.

"I see," I think that you will have to endure more suffering and pain before I finally let you submit to me, then. After all, I have all the time in the world…" Sephiroth began to dematerialize. As soon as he was gone, the vines ripped Cloud’s arms and legs out of their sockets and let him fall hundreds of feet down to the earth.

"This is only a dream, this is only a dream," Cloud began to chant to himself.

The voice of Sephiroth returned to haunt him as he plummeted towards his untimely demise.

"Is it a dream, or is your world the dream and this the actual reality?"

Sephiroth’s taunts were getting to him.

"Show yourself, Sephiroth. I know you’re here somewhere!"

As Cloud watched, the trail of blood left by his bloody stumps began to tie together into a large puddle in zero gravity. Slowly, an imprint of Sephiroth’s face began to form inside the pool and followed Cloud down as he fell.

"Is this better?" the translucent red pool asked humbly.

Cloud was too transfixed on the rapidly increasing ground to worry about what Sephiroth was saying. Suddenly, Sephiroth sped up past Cloud and positioned the giant pool of blood directly under him. Cloud hit it with a jarring crack in his neck, but still remained alive. As he lay half-dead on the marble floor, the blood slowly oozed itself back inside of him, his limbs falling down onto his head and crawling back into his sockets, twisting around inside painfully as his bones snapped. Cloud bit his lip in an attempt to not give Sephiroth the pleasure of hearing his screams but he only succeeded in biting off his lower lip. He finally gave in to the pain, his scream lasting as long as his breath would last, giving Sephiroth no end of pleasure.

"You see, now, Cloud?" Sephiroth inquired, "You are nothing. You’re not a complete human. You have too much inner strife. You are nothing. You are a Frankenstein monster assembled by that idiot Hojo. He may have been wrong about you being a failure but he was not wrong in not giving you a number. On the most important level, you are still not complete. With me, you are complete. With this body as my vessel into the real world, we will be unstoppable. We will reign supreme in this indestructible vessel. I will ride the bloody crest of this planet into the arms of Armageddon!"

"And you expect me to go along with this? To let you slay my friends and let their life forces power you? Is that what you expect?"

"No," said Sephiroth solemnly," I expect you to die!"

Cloud was instantly disintegrated, his individual atoms broken down into subatomic particles and rearranged to form Sephiroth, who just laughed and laughed.

Cloud’s body was transported back to Tifa’s 7^th Heaven back in Sector 7, but now he was in the basement. As he got up and looked around, he saw the tattered remains of his friends, shocked expressions of pain and anguish impressed upon their faces.

His attention was torn from their decapitated heads by a malevolent chuckle. Turning his eyes towards the noise, he was greeted by the disturbing visage of himself standing atop a pile of dead bodies, or rather it was a reasonable facsimile of himself, standing astride the cluttered bodies, his sword slung over his shoulder in mockery of his own victory stance. His clothes were worn and shredded and its own Buster Sword was stained dark red with fresh blood.

The Bloody Cloud looked straight at him and gave a cold laugh that sent a chill running up and down his spine. The color drained from his face.

When Bloody Cloud spoke, it was a voice all to familiar but not his own.

"You may consider this a taste of things to come," Bloody Cloud declared in Sephiroth’s deep, ominous voice.

"Like hell it is!" Cloud growled, attempting to mask his own nervousness. "Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing to me! You’re just attempting to convince me that I’ll go insane so that I’ll give up hope and surrender to you. If that’s what you think then you have another thing coming!"

Cloud looked up to see the expression on the Bloody Cloud, but he had vanished; yet the laughing persisted. Cloud looked down at his feet and found the decapitated head of Sephiroth cluttered among the remains of his friends.

All at once, the head began to rise into the air, the rest of Sephiroth’s body materializing in short order, until he floated a foot off the ground not a foot from where Cloud stood.

"Such bravado," Sephiroth spoke as he was materializing himself, "Such vitality. Such potential. Such…" Sephiroth stopped in mid-sentence, and swung his hand in an arc, his fist missing Cloud by a few inches, but the telekinetic wave he sent out throwing Cloud against the wall, knocking him through the crumbling wall.

Battered, Cloud attempted to get up but was halted by a sucking chest pain.

Sephiroth just grinned.

"Can you feel how helpless you are, my little puppet. You are a mere ragdoll, tossed into a world where you are caught up in a tide of meaningless drones, pushed on by propaganda of the better life that you will never achieve in your lifetime because you don’t realize that you don’t know how to live!"

"And you know how to live?"

"Of course! I will achieve the one thing that no one else has had the gall to attempt in the entire short history of this planet. I will absorb the raw power of the planet, I will become a god!"

"Is that what this is all about? Power?" Cloud asked, disgusted.

"Of course not! Power is a means to an end, not an end itself!"

"So then what will you do once you become a god, Sephiroth? What’s to stop you from becoming bored with that?"
"I will become master of time and space. I will rule over the past, present, and the future of the universe!"

"You are insane!"

"O contraire, I am the only sane one left in this world of chaos and anguish. Only I can relieve the people’s suffering and bring them peace, because the only way to get people’s attention is through power and fear."
"You don’t care about the people, you would just kill them!"

"Of course. True peace can only be achieved through death, and that will be my gift to the worlds of the universe. The gift of death!"

He raised his Masamune.

Cloud clenched his fists as tight as he could and attempted to fight the white pain that screamed up and down his torso so he could get up. Suddenly, there was a sound of shattering glass and Cloud’s hand shredded as though it had been mauled by some unknown creature, his clenched fist dripping blood. He grasped his hand and Sephiroth pressed his advantage.

"Do not worry about what will become of your precious planet, little one. You will not be around to see it!"

With that, Sephiroth plunged his sword through Cloud’s head and his world went dark.

Cloud awoke with a start from his daydream, and it took him a minute to realize that it had been just a dream. The pain in his fist, however, was all too real. While in his dream he had clenched his empty fist, in the corporeal world, he had shattered his drinking glass, slicing up his hand.

Tifa grimaced and went off to fetch some bandages for his hand as Cloud began pulling out the shard of glass that remained embedded in his bloodied palm.

"Ow… shit that hurts," Cloud whined as he yanked a rather jagged piece from his palm. He would have to get every small piece out before he could use the Restore materia on his hand.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Tifa demanded as she reentered the room with a roll of white bandages and the Restore materia.

"I dunno," Cloud answered, a distant look in his eyes and a hollow tone in his voice.

Tifa grimaced again.
"You need to be careful," she exclaimed. "Next time you might not be so lucky."

She wrapped his hand in bandages and a large red patch formed over where the cuts were. She used her Restore materia on the Cloud and slowly, the red stain shrunk as the blood was absorbed back into his skin.

In a minute the only signs that he had even been injured were his ripped glove and a few small scars where the more serious wounds had been. Cloud flexed his hand back and forth, with only a slight ache to remind his of his injuries.

"You need to take care of that hand, so I suggest not using your sword for a while," Tifa pointed out.

Cloud got up and left the room. "If only she knew…" he thought to himself, "If only she knew."

"Cloud? Where are you going off to now?"

Cloud’s behavior was very bizarre and she wanted to keep him close by so she could keep an eye on him. Obviously, that entailed not having him running off anywhere suddenly.

"I’m gonna go pay a visit to Cid," Cloud responded.

"Well don’t be home too late now, you hear?" she called back.

"Yes mother," Cloud yelled back sarcastically as he headed out the door.

"Why you…" Tifa began, but was interrupted by the sound of the door slamming and Cloud starting up his motorcycle, and driving off into the afternoon sun. Tifa watched until he had disappeared over the horizon.

A cool wind picked up and Tifa found herself shivering. But then, it served her right for wearing a tank top and a skirt in the middle of the fall. She watched as dark clouds began to roll in from the west, from over the Kerigas Ocean, casting dark shadows over plains. The howls of the Nibel Wolves were drowned out by the roar of the clouds, making the wolves instinctively run off to seek shelter in their caves.

Suddenly, Tifa found herself wishing that Cloud had not left at all. She suddenly had a great desire to just be in his arms, to feel him against her, to hear his soothing voice convince her that everything was all right.

For several minutes she stared at the dark purple and gray clouds as they consumed the sun, blocking it from view, casting eerie shadows over the Nibel Mountains. Tifa shivered again and shut the window. She walked over to the fireplace and using her Fire materia, created a small blaze within a few seconds. Instinctively, she cuddled up next to it in a blanket and tried to take her mind off of her worries. The blanket was a poor substitute for Cloud, though.

She had a gut feeling that something bad was going to happen soon… something very bad. She slowly drifted to a restless sleep, nurtured by the hypnotic effect of the flickering sparks of the fire. She hated feeling this helpless.

Cloud focused his gaze forward as the faint glow of Cid’s hometown of Messaluna poked out into view over the horizon. He narrowed his eyes and tightened his grip in the handlebars. He knew what he had to do. He had to get to Cosmo Canyon and talk to Red. If anyone could help him, it was Red. He just needed Cid to take him there in the Highwind and save him a week’s trip over the mountains.

He sped past the old wooden ‘Welcome to Rocket Town’ sign, now with Messaluna crudely painted over it in red spray-paint, past all of the shops that donned the town’s outskirts, past the inn, the only building with lights still on, finally skidding to a stop in front of a large white house that rested at the center of town.

He parked his bike by the side of the house and pushed open the white gate that surrounded the house.

He walked up to the front door and rapped on the door several times. At first there was nothing but a minute later a light flickered on and he heard footsteps approaching to door. It flew open to reveal a very disgruntled and tired looking Cid Highwind, naked from the chest up, dressed only in a pair of pajama pants and a pair of battered white slippers. Cloud could see the red indentations on Cid’s forehead where his trademark aviator’s goggles had made their mark. Without the goggles, Cid’s bangs fell limp in front of his eyes, which he blew out of the way in annoyance. He hadn’t bothered to open his eyes yet. He shivered in the night air, the air cold against his naked chest.

"What the %&$# do you want?" Cid demanded without opening his eyes. Clearly he had just woken him from bed.

"Uh… hey, Cid," Cloud stammered, pondering whether he should come back later or not.

He squinted until his eyes adjusted to the night sky.

"Cloud, is that you?" Cid queried.

"Yes Cid," Cloud responded, relaxing a bit.

"Well why the &$% didn’t you say something sooner? Come in… come in… I want to ask you something…" Cid replied, putting his arm around Cloud and leading Cloud inside, slamming the door behind him.

Cloud raised his eyebrows in surprise. Cid had something to ask him? He wondered what it could be.

"What is it, Cid?" Cloud asked curiously.

"Ahem" Cid grunted, clearing his throat. He leaned in close to Cloud, who leaned his head in close.

"WHAT THE %&$^@ ARE YOU DOING VISITING ME AT THIS UNGODLY HOUR?" Cid roared not two inches from Cloud’s ear. Cloud winced. He glanced at his watch, which read 12:45. Cloud gulped. Cid was notorious for loving his sleep. He hadn’t realized that it was so late. He had taken longer in getting here than usual. He gulped. He knew Cid was not going to let him off easy for waking him at this hour.

As if sensing his friend’s nervousness, Cid’s features softened and he chuckled slightly.

"Well, my friend, you are in luck. I just so happened to still be up." Cid explained. "I was finishing up an order for a speedboat that is to be shipped out in two days. You caught me as I was washing up to go to bed."

Cloud breathed a heavy sigh of relief and Cid laughed.

Cid gave him a slap on the back and led him into the kitchen.

"Why don’t you sit your ass down and tell me what brings you all the way over here unexpected and uninvited while I make us some tea. I won’t be able to sleep until I find out why anyway, so don’t worry about inconveniences."

"Sure," Cloud agreed and pulled a chair out from under the table and sat down.

"So" Cloud began, trying to make conversation before he explained the reason for his being here, "How are you taking the town’s name change?"

Cid laughed softly.

"Well, y’know, I can see why they changed the name, but Messaluna? C’mon. How lameass is that? I offered to build another rocket for the town, but they said," Cid explained, starting a bad impersonation of the mayor of Messaluna, " ‘we can’t afford to be ‘No Rocket’ Town for the number of years it would take you to build another one. And even then, how do we know you wouldn’t try to fly it?’ That fat-ass has no vision!" Cid declared. "When we first decided to change the name, the leading suggestion was Highwind suggested by yours truly and guess what, it actually was officially voted in! Well, turns out that it lasted only two days as Highwind, quickly replaced by… Messaluna," Cid stated, his voice dripping with disgust as the new name of his hometown crossed his lips.

Cloud just nodded understandingly. He yawned and stretched his arms, but for some odd reason did not feel the least bit tired.

Cid poured the hot tea into their cups and laid Cloud’s cup in front of him.

"So tell me, Cloud," Cid began, "What brings you all the way up here?"

Cloud frowned, and Cid guessed that he was in for a long, unhappy story and leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea, and braced himself for Cloud’s story.

Cloud explained to him the events that had taken place since the previous night, how he had been having these horrendous nightmares and he had lashed out at Tifa earlier that day.

All the while, Cid had been kicking back, sipping his tea, and listing to Cloud fill him in on the events that had led up to his racing over here in the middle of the night.

Apparently his good friend’s life hadn’t been as good as he had previously thought. "Sure," Cid thought, "He had a nice house, a nice life, the love of a beautiful woman, but what really was all of that without your sanity?" It didn’t add up to much when he finally thought about it.

Cloud finished his account of the past day and stood up, stretching again.

Cid put down his tea and gave Cloud a look of both worry and exasperation. He was stuck between a rock and a soft place.

Either help his friend at this ungodly hour of the night or go to his nice, warm bed and wait until morning, taking the chance that Cloud could go off the deep end sometime before then. Neither option was too delectable to him, friend or bed. But he knew that he didn’t have to give it a second thought and stood up and nodded silently to Cloud, signaling that he would help him.

"Give me a few minutes to get ready," Cid proclaimed.
Cloud nodded and Cid disappeared into the darkness of him bedroom, walking out two minutes later in his familiar pilot’s outfit, the keys to the Highwind jingling in his right hand, his Venus Gospel grasped in the other.

"Let’s move out," Cid declared, following Cloud out the door into the cold night to his truck.

Five minutes later they pulled up to a clearing in a nearby forest about five miles from his tow to his truck.

Five minutes later they pulled up to a clearing in a nearby forest about five miles from his town, where the monolithic Highwind was parked.

Cid looked up at his pride and joy, which cast eerie shadows in the moonlight it reflected. Cloud stared in awe at the reconstructed Highwind. Holy had really done a number on it when it tore it apart during the incident at the Northern Crater, but Cid had devoted himself to rebuilding it.

Cid reached into his pocket and pulled out a small remote with a glowing red button, which Cid pressed with his gloved thumb.

With a quick bleep, a metal staircase extended from the side of the Highwind, until the end of it finally rested on the ground. Cid just grinned, and led Cloud up the stairs into the bowels of the mechanical monstrosity that was the newly redesigned Highwind.

Cloud was awestruck at the way Cid had seemed to remembered every meticulous detail of the previous Highwind, reconstructed it, then improving everything tenfold. As he was looking around, he wasn’t watching where he was going and bumped into Cid, who was grinning from ear to ear at the grin that had crossed his face.

Cloud stuttered for a minute, attempting to give expression to his amazement. He was able to choke out a barely audible "Wow, I like what you’ve done with the place."

Cloud had been passed impressed a while ago, and Cid’s smile was getting bigger and bigger.

Finally, Cid broke the silence with a quick, "C’mon, we should get going. I’ll fill you in on the rest after we’re airborne."

Cloud complied and hurriedly followed Cid through the guts of the machine, through several different rooms, hoping he wouldn’t get lost, to the pilot’s deck. To his surprise, the pilot’s deck looked relatively unchanged, but he doubted that he would really be able to tell even if he tried. The floor began to vibrate as the Highwind’s seven sets of twin engines roared to life, breaking the tranquil silence that permeated the air around the forest as the Highwind took to the skies.

Cid hit a few more buttons, turned a few knobs, and pulled a lever or two and then walked away from the control deck.

"Thank god I had the sense to install that autopilot feature," Cid declared. "Now I don’t know about you, but I’m beat and we have a few hours to kill before we reach Cosmo Canyon, so lets head over to the sleeping quarters."

"Sleeping quarters?" Cloud queried, raising his eyebrows in surprise. Cid just grinned proudly again.

"Yup, one of my newer additions to my baby. Materia is nice, but nuthin’ beats some good old-fashioned 40 winks!"

Cid yawned and walked towards the door, Cloud hastily following.

They walked through a weight room and a recreational room, complete with a mini-bar, pool table, television set and a comfy-looking couch. Cid took a left at the enhanced Chocobo stable and down a small flight of stairs and into spacious sleeping quarters. Cid wasted no time in running up to a bed in the far corner and jumping onto it, falling asleep a minute later.

Cloud sat himself down about three beds down from where Cid lay, snoring away, and lay himself on it, staring up at the shiny, silver-hued ceiling as he slowly drifted to sleep.

He could see nothing. He could feel nothing. He could taste nothing in the air. He could smell nothing. The only thing that he could sense at all was the wind. He could hear the sound of a faint breeze whipping through what sounded like a cave, instant reminding him of his experiences at Gaea’s Cliff.

Suddenly he was hit with a sharp stab of pain in his back as much more than a simple chill ran up and down his spine.

Slowly, the lights flickered on, and his remaining senses returned. He was in the Ancient Capital again, but this time he was not in front of Aeris, about to watch her die. No, Sephiroth had a much more devious, much more painful, plan in store for him. This time he was not in front of Aeris, he was above her, staring down upon her beautiful features as his friends approached her from the front.

His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, but it was not his sword he wielded, it was Sephiroth’s. He glared at his reflection in the blade, at the reflection of he was causing him so much pain, at Sephiroth’s reflection. He was here, inside of him, controlling him. He could feel it. He fought his command to jump, to sink the blade into Aeris’ stomach, to kill his teammates while they looked on in horror. He fought it as best he could, but his greatest attempts were lost and chaotic. This was Sephiroth’s domain and he had complete control here.

As if to prove his point, Cloud’s body involuntarily leaped from the ledge above which he rested on and plummeted into the abyss below, into the waiting soul below.

This event had been played through his mind on an endless loop millions of times before, but never had it been this painful.

He watched as the blade tore through her abdomen without so much as a cry of pain. He watched as she fell limp over the blade, not so much as a trickle of blood falling from where the sword had run her through. He watched as his body withdrew the sword from her chest with the sickening sound of metal against bone and tissue, a horrible scraping sound.

His friends looked on in horror, but it quickly turned to rage. He had not been among them. He was the villain this time, not the hero and without his sorrow and rage to quell them, they were not paralyzed with fear this time. They pressed the advantage.

Vincent drew his gun and with unerring aim put a bullet directly through his brain, spraying offal and gray matter out the backside, spraying the far wall with disgusting crimson fluid.

He screamed, but no sound came out as he fell lifelessly backwards, his head falling back against the far wall, leaving a small pool of blood to drip down the wall. His blonde hair matted with blood, pressed into his face, his face that bore an expression of shock and anguish.

When he had been there, he had been weak. His friends were not weak. Without him they were strong. It was he who had held them back. Physically, he was strong. Mentally he was weak.

"So you finally see, then?" Sephiroth asked from within the depths of his mind.

"See what?" Cloud questioned mentally.

"That power, physically, is a means to an end, not an end in itself. When you destroyed my body that day in the Crater, you thought that you were destroying a megalomaniacal madman’s plan to kill a planet to become the most powerful being in existence. When in fact you were squelching the dying dream of all mankind to be more than just human. Human nature dictates that they look at the world around them, all that there is that is beyond their understanding, beyond their control, and they wish to have it, to wield that unknown power. Do not tell me that you have never desired that. I can see to the very bottom of your blackened heart and soul, and all I see is contempt for your weak vessel."

"Are you attempting to make me feel sorry for you, Sephiroth? Are you attempting to justify your horrendous actions?"

"I do not attempt to justify any of my actions to anyone, no matter what you or anyone else, may think about them. I just desire you to see the greater picture, the method behind my so-called madness."

"Your method? Your goddamned method? Cloud roared. "Your method was going around killing anyone that got in your way, toying with the minds of those who were too strong for you to off!"

The air was silent for a minute, but then Sephiroth burst out laughing.

"Is that truly what you believe? Humor me when I ask why then I just revealed to you about me what I did?"

"You believe that if I understand your motives then I will stop attempting to repress your influences!" Cloud responded immediately, without skipping a beat.

"Is that what you think of me?" Sephiroth mused, "Just a madman who manipulates people for his own personal gain, without remorse for anyone?"

"Absolutely," Cloud agreed.

"Well your right," Sephiroth laughed malevolently. "I told you before I wanted to break your spirit before I took control. What do you think would happen if I took control now? How would you feel if I decided to tear away your soul now, kill your friend Highwind and destroy the entire canyon by crashing the Highwind, with it’s nuclear engines, directly into Cosmo Canyon? Would you be able to live with yourself then?"

"You aren’t powerful enough to take control of me, yet. I do not know by what ungodly means you obtain your powers, but you do not yet have the strength to take me like you claim, lest you would have a long while ago."

Sephiroth laughed.

"I draw my power directly from your cesspool of a soul. I am nurtured by your worst fears, by your uncertainties, by your darkest thoughts, and your deepest regrets. I am you, a part of you. Our relationship is more intimate than any lover you could ever have. I know you better than you know yourself. Surrender yourself to me and save yourself the pain."

"Never," Cloud spat. "If what you claimed were even the least bit true, than you would have had the power to destroy the planet ten times over when you first entered my mind. That is what it means to be human. To have fears, to have uncertainties. Not everyone desires to be god, that’s what is called megalomania. What you are is a megalomaniacal psychopath. You are attempting to live out your own dream, not the dream of the human race, you self-serving, egotistical, bastard!"

Cloud felt a smack across his face, and his whole world shattered around him as he fluttered back into consciousness. Opening his eyes, he saw Cid poised above him with his hand raised, ready to smack him again.

"Aaugh, I’m awake!" Cloud cried.

Cid smacked him again and Cloud cried out in pain, clutching his throbbing cheek.

"What the hell was that for?" Cloud yelled, sitting up in bed. "I said I was awake!"

"That was a warning, Cloudy-boy! Don’t do it again or else I’ll shove my boot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather for the rest of your life! I cannot stand people whose dreams wake me up in the middle of a dream. Especially when that dream consists of me with a beer in one hand, Miss Midgar in the other, and my house moved into one of the rooms of the Highwind!"

"Sounds like a nice dream," Cloud agreed.
"Damn straight it was. If you ever freak out like that when I’m trying to dream, I will personally drag your ass out, even if it means throwing you off the Highwind at an altitude of 30,000 feet! Capeche?"

"Capeche!" Cloud responded.

"Good. We’re approaching Cosmo Canyon. Drag your ass out of bed and get ready. Oh, and one more thing," he added quickly, "Come your goddamn hair, it’s a friggin’ mess! The bathroom is up the stairs and the third room to the right."

Cloud groaned groggily and dragged himself off the bed. Cid gave him a scrutinizing look, his brow lowered.

"What?" Cloud asked.

"Nuthin," Cid replied. "Might want to rub some water in your eyes while your getting’ ready, though. They look a little odd."

Cloud ignored him and dragged his body up the stairs and to the bathroom. His body had never felt so heavy before. He reached into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a small black comb and fixed his mussed up hair. After that, he pulled the hairs out of the comb and threw them into the small wastebasket at his feet as per Rule 3 on the Bathroom Etiquette sign Cid had posted on the wall.

Cloud lowered his body down and turned the sink on ad splashed some lukewarm water onto his face. After drying his face with a towel and throwing the towel into the ‘Used Towel Bin’ as per Rule 5, Cloud’s gaze reached his reflection in the mirror.

What he saw was more frightening to him than anything that he had experienced in his dreams thus far.

Instead of his vibrant azure eyes that he was so used to seeing, glowing steadily with Mako power, his reflection bore bright green eyes, glowing with unnatural light. They were not his eyes, they were his.

And from somewhere in the depths of his soul, he could hear him laughing.