Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Sailor Moon Fan Fiction / Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction ❯ The Whys of What Ifs ❯ Chapter 8: The Three Meet - Running Amok ( Chapter 8 )

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The Whys of What Ifs

Chapter 8 – The Three Meet: Running Amok

Zack awoke early the next morning. Surveying the room, he quickly and silently gathered his underwear, pants, and vest before padding out into the hall, leaving Setsuna to her well-deserved rest. Dressing quickly in the hallway, he decided to check on his new self-imposed patient.

Cracking the door just enough to stick his head through, Zack took a quick glance around the room and its two sleeping occupants. 'Let's see,' he thought, going over a mental checklist, "Sephiroth is still breathing. Check. Hotaru is still breathing. Check. Hotaru still has her clothes on. Pity. Check. Sephiroth is still covered by enough blankets to hide the fact that he's naked and the bed looks, ahem, "unruffled". Check. There, that should do it.' He chuckled slightly, closing the door and walking towards the courtyard.

The morning was somewhat cool, with a hint of a breeze that was rather refreshing. The underlying scent of cherry blossoms brought a sense of sobriety that slowly evaporated Zack's good mood and forced him to reflect on more important matters. He sat on the stairs, looking at the tamed, yet still haunting beauty of the temple and its surroundings and he thought about the events of yesterday. About the One-Winged Angel. About Sephiroth and Hotaru. About Setsuna.

Although it appeared in many legends in his world, little was truly known about the One-Winged Angel. What little was known of it, what little was not pure fancy, amounted to this: the One-Winged Angel, though allied with the Gods, was not a particularly nice creature. Its methods often involved half-truths, manipulation, and corrupt bargains. The demonic angel, however, was always acting towards the goal of its lord, the being who bowed to no god. Nothing, no threat, no coercion, no bribe, could sway the One-Winged Angel from its mission. To its lord and master, the One-Winged Angel was eternally loyal.

This, of course, brought up two damnably difficult questions: Who was the master of the One-Winged Angel and what was his intent? Any being that could control the One-Winged Angel would have to possess enough power to overshadow even the Gods. Among the inner circle of gods, in secret councils filled with power and wisdom enough to make the universe quake, they whispered its name in caution and slow fear. The ebon-haired mercenary tried to imagine what manner of existence could possibly master the horrible power of the demonic angel.

His mind balked at the concept. The structure of gods made them almost impossible to improve, practically inconceivable to surpass. It was both the gods' greatest strength and greatest weakness, known only to their most trusted warriors. The only way to surpass a god was to never have been a god, to transcend the mortal plane in such a way that it bypassed their level entirely. Zack could only think of three beings that had ever managed the feat, but all three were either allied with evil or profoundly neutral in any matter concerning the limited planes of infinite existence. But that just didn't make any sense. If it wasn't them, and Zack was pretty sure, given the evidence, that they were not involved, then who could it be?

The only conclusion that the ebon-haired mercenary could reach was that either a new player who had entered the game or a very, very old player who had re-emerged. He didn't know which possibility frightened him more. Then he thought about it a second. Yep, it was the thought of an ancient power emerging once more that had him gritting his teeth, trying not to run for the hills. Given whom it was that they would be fighting, the probability that the new arrival was ancient beyond the gods was a concept that was finding more and more solid ground. Zack shook his head. 'Gods above help us if that's the case, because we're going to need every last bit of help we can get just to survive, let alone stop it.'

That thought brought his mind to the matter of Sephiroth's transformation and his terrible wounds. Although he was sure that Hotaru had helped the silver-haired warrior in gaining his new powers, he was also equally sure that she had not done it alone. The Ceremony of Gods' Own was not the sort of operation that one lightly let go ahead, whether they were receiving or controlling the process. To the object of the ceremony, the bond formed between god and god's warrior would never dissipate without the approval of that god. Zack did not know what would happen if the Ceremony was enacted without the approval of the god of the priestess who performed the spell and although that worried him somewhat, since he thought it might be the case in point, he pushed it to the side of his mind. For the one who performed the ceremony, unless they had the explicit approval of their god, they would die from an overdose of magical energy coursing through their veins. The only way around that would be if someone took the force of the deadly magic through their bodies as a filter.

The conclusion that Zack came to was simple: the One-Winged Angel had adopted this stance, allowing Sephiroth to become a Celestial Warrior and Hotaru to continue to live, in order to follow whatever dictates its lord had set upon it. But part of that explanation still didn't make sense. As a Celestial Warrior, Sephiroth had been strong, indeed he had been almost half again as strong as he once had been, but there was quite a price for it. Because the celestial blessing acted in the same manner as the gods' own bodies, strengthening significantly but also making other sources of power self-exclusive, Sephiroth could no longer use any of his Jenova abilities anymore, including his healing abilities and his newly acquired disguise power. Both abilities had any number of secondary potentials that could have been ten times stronger than a celestial blessing, so why did the demonic angel enact the ceremony, stripping Sephiroth of those vital powers, only to leave him as a Celestial Warrior, tier 1?

Zack shook his head. 'Stupid bastard. Celestial warriors grow stronger only as they hold their mantles for a period of time. Right now, all Sephiroth has are the skills of a basic level Seishi when what he really needs in order to properly fight Silentia, in Celestial Warrior terms, outclasses by a good stretch of the multi-verse anything that the Senshi have got, except maybe the Silver Imperium Crystal. But he'd still need about twice as much power than even that joker can pump out. Now, where the hell are you gonna' find that much power? Maybe another Crystaljust popping out of thin air? Hah!'

The ebon-haired mercenary grit his teeth at thinking of it. This was one of the reasons why the Gods had stopped the practice of making males into Celestial Warriors. Although they had the possibility of growing far stronger than female warriors, given their greater base physical strength, they had a natural handicap where magic was concerned and the full effect of the ceremony never kicked in most times, leaving the warriors with only a portion of the true power owed them. Although Sephiroth's gender should have limited his magical potential, from what Zack saw yesterday, that was not the case. The silver-haired general handled his Seishi skills with fluid grace and skill, lending his skills an edge of power that a neophyte at magical combat would have sadly lacked. Zack chalked it up to Sephiroth's lifetime of using materia. That theory, at least, made sense, given the link between Seishi and Senshi power and materia structure.

The real problem came from the aftershock results of the ceremony. As predicted, Sephiroth did not acquire the full powers that such an operation should have granted him. Where he should have been a Celestial Warrior of Darkness, possessing the powers of Ruin and Rebirth, Death and Destruction, and Silence, Sephiroth only had the abilities and skills of a Seishi of Ruin and Rebirth. The loss was quite noticeable, given that the silver-haired warrior lacked the counterparts to several of Hotaru's celestial techniques: the Silence Wall, the Silence Glaive Surprise, and, most importantly, the Death Reborn Revolution. Given the lack of a suitable counterpart to these powerful skills, Sephiroth's Phantom Blades, the male version of Hotaru's Death Ribbon Revolution, just didn't cut it.

The regressive time damage curse also confused him. Who would have access to Sephiroth's mind long enough to plant it? Those types of spells were fragile things, hard to place, time-consuming to place, but almost impossible to remove. There was also the matter of what Setsuna had said last night…

Zack cursed. 'Dammit, if only Phobideum was here, then we might be able to do something. He's pretty much the only person, beyond the High Council of the Cetra, that I know that has knowledge of why this has been done. And more importantly: what we do to fix it.'

Seeing nothing more productive that would result in thinking of those two subjects anymore, Zack switched his concentration to thinking of his duty in this world: Setsuna.

He leaned back and concentrated his power into his fist, staring at it intensely. After a moment, an image appeared. It showed the room he had just left, including the occupant that was now just awakening.

The sunlight streaked golden in her emerald hair, setting it to sparkling like a jewel valuable beyond reckoning. She sat up slightly, unaware that she was being watched, and yawned, stretching her arms and tugging the top of the pajamas she wore up, revealing a scintillating view of her uncovered midriff. Setsuna looked around, softly calling for him, her burgundy orbs looking slightly concerned. After a few moments of making sure that he wasn't there, she leaned out of bed, obviously getting ready to change. Zack disengaged the image.

He looked at his hand. Almost imperceptivity, it shook. Hidden beneath layers of reality that few but he could see, a twinge of golden power flamed. When had this happened? The power should not have done so much as spark without his permission. He clearly remembered what Phobideum had said about it.

'…remnants of his power. It responds most to the deeper emotions: pain, love, fear, and hatred, in particular. I've arranged it so that the power will flare most when she is in distress. That way, you will be able to access it without trouble when you need it.' The guardian had said.

He had been younger then, much younger, and had asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. "Are you sure I'll be able to control it when I'm not in battle? I'm not quite as great a man as he was."

"You need not concern yourself. The bonds I've set won't let anything short of a murderous rage unlock his power. You don't have to worry about it wreaking havoc."

Wreak havoc? Hah! That was the problem! It was wreaking havoc: with his chemical emotional balance! Damn Phobideum and his words of how careful he had been about the power he had given Zack! And damn him for believing them! '…the power will flare most when she is in distress.' Hah! The bonds that Phobideum had made on the incredible power that he had let Zack borrow created a feeling of such intensity that he could barely control himself! But apparently, the type of emotion created from Setsuna's distress depended on the type of situation she was in. In the hallway, she was on the verge of a physical breakdown, exhausted from battle and lack of sleep, and worried sick about the fate of the Senshi and the Earth, a fate she could no longer see, and the emotion of love had hit him full force. 'Well, not exactly love,' Zack thought somewhat dimly, lost in his thoughts, 'but lust is one of its closer cousins.'

Zack did not know how he had been able to control it. It had been a miracle that the ebon-haired mercenary had not lost control and started ravishing the beautiful Time Guardian in the hallway! Zack shivered. Even though the bond created the problem, it also lent part of itself to the solution. It froze Zack's expression into a kind, listening one as well as providing another finger's breath of emotional buffer.

'One day, however,' Zack thought, 'that might not be enough. I still remember last night, after I had sent her into the room to get ready for bed. She was in bed, but wasn't anywhere near sleep. She just lay there, even as I was settling down. I think something in my manner caught her attention in the hallway, some twinge of emotion that got past the bond's shield, because, all the while I was gone, none of her attempts to go to sleep even got close. As I came in, I could feel what she was feeling. Fear, anger, misery, anticipation…maybe even a little desire. I wonder what she would have thought if she knew I slept nude?' The ebon-haired mercenary's chuckle was slight but dark. Then he froze. He knew exactly what Setsuna would have thought. And, worse yet, he knew how he would have responded. He started to tremble a bit, terrified.

'I…I need to get away from her for a while. At least until I can control this thing. Yeah, yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll make sure to check up on her once in a while and make sure nothing happens to her. Yeah…yeah…that sounds good. I'll just check on her once more before I go and then…I'll solve this problem. Talk to Phobideum. Yeah. He'll know how to fix this.' He had already begun his slow walk down the stairs when he ignited the image in his fist again. What he saw sent him careening down the stairs headfirst.

More shaken by what he had seen than by the pain of falling, Zack staggered to his feet. He was horrified to see that his left hand glowing with a thin layer of golden power, no more than a millimeter thick, licking the surface of his skin like a solar flare. 'No, no, no! This can't be happening! Despite all my bad jokes, I'm supposed to protect Setsuna from everything, internal and external! If this keeps up, I won't be able to stop myself! I won't be Setsuna's protector; I'll be one of her enemies! I've got to get rid of it, NOW!'

As Zack took off for town, looking for the nearest body of relatively large water, a pond, a lake, hell, even someone's swimming pool was fair game, he couldn't help but think that he had forgotten something. He shook the thought off. Whatever it was, it couldn't be as important as this. -----

Setsuna was startled from her refreshing bath by a loud HISS followed by a shout from a person that sounded an awfully lot like Zack. She narrowed her eyes and covered her chest, looking around. "Zack?" She called softly, thinking it might be a prank that he was pulling. As bad as his jokes were, anything seemed possible from the ebon-haired mercenary.

Nothing.

She shrugged. It must have been her imagination.

Then she heard a fierce cry of someone yelling. "You're gonna' die!" It was then followed by the sound of glass breaking and a short thud.

Setsuna gulped. 'Uh oh. Haruka's here.' -----

There existed on a dead world a man who would not die.

Of course, it is unfair to him to call him a man, for he has not been one for many millions of years; his mental, physical, and spiritual structures have changed until most would never recognize the man he had once been. For, you see, he is now a god.

He stirred for the first time in six millennia as a voice all together foreign and all together familiar reached his ears.

DOST THE LONG WAIT UNTO TIME'S END DRAG MORE HEAVILY? WOULD THOU ESCAPE IT?

Sephiroth became corporal in his human form, narrowing his now-amethystine eyes. "Who Are You, To Awaken The God Of Nightmares? Who Are You, To Offer Me Freedom?"

ART THOU NOT A GOD? DOST THOU MEMORIES, PLUNDER OF THE THY RAVAGE, NOT INCLUDE MINE HUMBLE PRESENCE? IF SO, WOULD THOU DENY AN ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE THY LONELY FATE? IF NOT, SHOULD I SET MINE EYES UPON A WISER SPECIMEN?

The god shook his head. "I Know Who You Are. What Would You Require To Grant Me Escape From This Place? What Is The Price?"

DOST THOU KNOW THE PROCEPHIES OF THE TRUE SOVEREIGN, THE HEIR TO SAVIOR, THE MESSIAH OF INVERSION, THE DEMON MASTERS OF SALUTE UNTO FAREWELL, THE SERAPHIM OF BLACK FIRE, AND THE SONG WITHOUT ORIGIN?

"I Know Of Them." The god replied, looking slightly shocked.

THEN THOU KNOWEST WHAT THE PRICE IS. SPEAK, SO THAT MINE EARS CAN HEAR THE TRUE NAME OF THE FULL PROPHECY, THEN, RELEASE SHALL YOU FIND.

The god spoke five words.

VERY WELL. ART THOU SURE THAT THIS IS THE CHOICE OF THY TRUE HEART? SURELY, A FEW MILLENIA MORE CANNOT BE WORTH THE AGONY THOU WILL SURELY ENDURE IN THE WAYSIDE. SPEAK NOT FROM THINE MIND, FOR THE ROT OF DECEPTION LIES THERE. SPEAK NOT FROM THINE BODY, FOR THE MASK OF LUST LIES THERE. SPEAK NOT FROM THINE HEART, FOR THINE EYES ARE NOT YET WISE ENOUGH TO SEE TRUE DESIRE. SPEAK FROM THY SOUL. WHAT IS THY CHOICE?

The god was silent a moment, then he responded. "I Choose To Remain Not As I Was."

The world was still.

The last thing that Sephiroth could remember as an energy unlike any in the god's experience flowed into and through him was a voice, familiar on a level of consciousness Sephiroth was still realizing, unrecognizable on all others, speaking.

SO BE IT. FATE IS THE CHOICE OF SOULS. MAY THE SOULS OF THE PLANET SELECT THE FATE MOST BEFITTING THEM. -----

The Masamune clanked against the Silence Glaive in an offensive overhand slash before being repelled. Sephiroth nodded, then attacked again with a charging rising slice followed by a feint towards Hotaru's stomach, intending to throw her off balance.

Seeing as how this was their fourth practice session today, Hotaru had caught onto an inkling of Sephiroth's sword style worked and was prepared. She sidestepped the slice before spinning the Glaive, knocking the feint aside. The staff of her weapon caught Sephiroth on his knuckles, making him flinch and draw back, shifting the Sword of Destruction to his other hand.

Hotaru grinned. "What's the matter, Sephiroth? Don't tell me that I've got you on the run."

Sephiroth smirked, cracking the knuckles of his injured hand. "You wish. Now come on, let's fight. I think I'm already starting to get the feeling back in my hand. That spells bad luck for you."

"Oh, you can spell? That's great! We'll have to remember to go get you an ice cream cone to celebrate!" Hotaru taunted good-naturedly.

Sephiroth chuckled and threw himself back into the spar.

Several people sat on the sidelines, watching the two soldiers practice.

"He's very good." Mamoru said, coolly appraising Sephiroth's swordsmanship. "I doubt that Hotaru can win this one."

"Hey! Have faith in her! She won the last fight, didn't she!" Usagi countered. "And I'm sure that she can win this one too! I mean, look! Sephiroth is tired from the previous fights and he can barely keep his sword up!" She paused as everyone except for Sephiroth and Hotaru, who were still locked in their duel, looked at her. "What? What'd I say?"

Mamoru's eyes shifted from the confused expression on Usagi's face to the darkening thundercloud that was Haruka and back. He pressed his fist to his mouth, trying to hide his smile. "Poor choice of words, Usako." He mumbled. "Poor choice of words."

Obviously, Haruka was still angry from this morning. Having not heard from Setsuna the previous night, she had left her house at dawn, arriving at Rei's temple shortly thereafter. However, what she saw when she got there didn't exactly jive with what she wanted to see. Of course, when what she wanted to see involved the three Sephiroths with spears impeded in their chests and a sweet baby Hotaru that never got any older, it is the natural, logical course of thinking that a lot of situations didn't meet her expectations.

Anyway, she opened the door to Sephiroth's bedroom to find that there were several things wrong with the picture. And every single one of them pissed her off.

One, Sephiroth was asleep on the bed, his chest, looking almost as good as new with only a small area of slightly paler skin to mark where his injury had occurred, bared to all who cared to look at it.

Two, Hotaru was asleep, her knees folded against the bottom of the bed with her head, cradled in her arms, resting on the bed near Sephiroth's chest.

Three, Sephiroth's hand hung down around Hotaru's neck, occasionally ruffling her raven hair as he twitched in his sleep.

Four, as Haruka opened the door, she disturbed Sephiroth's rest a bit. He murmured in his sleep, "No, I don't want to give up my precious, you psycho bitch. Get your own." Even as he said this, his hand moved again, stroking Hotaru's hair and neck.

Incensed, Haruka could not believe that Sephiroth was really just sleeping and attacked him, leaping at him from the front of the bed. Unfortunately for Haruka, Sephiroth's dream took a turn at that precise moment that made Sephiroth turn his legs almost directly vertical. The impact sent poor Haruka straight through the window. The sound of shattering glass awoke both Hotaru and Sephiroth.

"What was that?" Hotaru asked, looking around.

"I don't know, but I had the weirdest dream. For some reason, I keep thinking that Haruka was in it." Sephiroth murmured drowsily.

Spotting the broken glass everywhere, Hotaru gulped and whispered. "Dream? More like a nightmare."

Haruka's only response, when she was able to get up, was a horrified and somewhat indignant, "He did that in his sleep?! That's bullshit!" 1 In any case, Haruka still hadn't gotten over what had happened this morning. Taking note of this, Usagi decided to firmly shut her trap concerning any possible commentary that held any sort of connotations regarding Sephiroth and Hotaru in any sort of romantic situation.

Remembering this, Usagi turned back to the duel, dropped her jaw, then quickly clamped her hand around her mouth to prevent anything from emerging that might cause Haruka to permanently injure her.

The scene of the spar between the two Celestial Warriors of Darkness now looked a little something like this: Hotaru lay on her back, eyes locked with Sephiroth, whose sword was now poised at her throat. His left hand pushed at her sternum, keeping her down with direct force even as the indirect force of his sword made her lie still. Overall, it was not exactly the type of picture that any daughter wanted her overprotective foster parent to see. Especially since said picture would cause said overprotective foster parent to kill any and all persons involved in such picture, including said daughter.

Unknowing, Sephiroth dissolved the tension in the air by resheathing his sword and helping Hotaru to her feet. Releasing her hand, the silver-haired soldier began to speak, his tone instructional. "That reverse sword-catcher you tried was very good. You almost had me, except for one thing."

"That combo you used on me?" Hotaru replied, her face slightly flushed.

Sephiroth nodded. "Yeah. The moment you caught my sword, I pushed it up and away from me, knocking you off balance. I used the distraction to use that knee tuck that knock you flat. From there, it was simple matter of retrieving my sword. I call it the Crossfire Counter-Break. It really has only one weakness." He went on to explain. "When I push my sword away from me, I leave my entire left side open for almost a full second. A well placed kick would have left me as defenseless as my combo left you."

Hotaru whistled. "Not bad." She walked over to where the others were and sat down, obviously done for right now.

As Hotaru de-transformed, Sephiroth averted his eyes, instead pulling out his transformation crystal from his sub-space pocket and regarding it. The main portion of it was a black crystal, roughly the size and shape of a large marble, with his version of the symbol for Saturn glowing in florescent green within the center of it. On either side of the crystal, wedge shaped pieces of silver had placed. A rectangle stretched across the intervening distance between the two wedges, connecting them. All three pieces of metal were smooth and were not engraved, resplendent in their purity.

As Sephiroth looked into it, several words appeared in his mind. 'Oh, well. Might as well. It's not as though I can make a fool of myself.'

He held the orb out and whispered. "Saturn Star Power, Transform!"

As the energy of the orb flowed over and through him, he could not help but think. 'Did I believe what I felt in my mind to be powerful? Did I believe that nothing could match the energy flowing through me? What a fool I was! Now that I am in my real body, I can feel the true changes that occurred! This Seishi transformation doubles my natural strength, triples my stamina, quadruples my jumping ability, adds more than another fifth to my speed, and don't even need materia to cast my spells! Yet, still I feel as though something, some critical ability, some major enhancement is missing. I feel more powerful then I ever have in my entire life, but this power seems…incomplete.'

The light of the transformation wore off, letting Sephiroth see their reactions to his transformation. To his surprise, for the most part, with the exception of Mamoru, their reactions were flushed cheeks. 'Why are they acting like that?' He thought, confused. 'Is there something wrong with my transfor…oh my. I just remembered.' Trying to clear his mind of the memory of the first, and only, time he saw Hotaru's transformation, he composed himself, trying to play it off.

"Well, my sword skills are still as sharp as ever! Let's see how I can handle working with these. Safety on." He withdrew the Carvers of Ruin from the ether, a soft violet light playing upon the surface of the weapons, cleansing them of their potent covering. Sephiroth grinned. The more he learned about his powers, the more he liked them. "Alright, I'm in the mood for a serious challenge! How about two of you against little old me?"

Sharing a brief glance as they did so, Mamoru and Haruka stood up. Sephiroth brushed his queue back and nodded, approving. He had fought both of them before and though he was sure that he could defeat both of them, even if they came upon him in waves, the silver-haired warrior appreciated the effort he was about to go through.

Sephiroth briefly averted his eyes, allowing the two to transform in peace, before regarding them. Mamoru had transformed into Endymion, Crown Prince of the Earth, and was withdrawing his sword from its sheath. Although Sephiroth could sense that Mamoru was almost ten times aspowerful in this form, he could not understand for the life of him why the raven-haired man preferred his Tuxedo Kamen form, weak as it was. The concept completely baffled the silver-haired warrior.

Uranus withdrew her Space Saber from the ether, holding it in ready position.

Sephiroth faced the two warriors with his two krises in battle position, grinning as though he was having a blast. "Good. Then bring it!"

Endymion and Uranus accepted his proposition.

A week passed.

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(Sephiroth) loosened his sword in its scabbard. The time had come.

His other self had healed from his wounds and, thanks to the celestial blessing he had received, was stronger than ever. (Sephiroth) smirked. Perfect. When (Sephiroth) consumed the Warrior, his power would be overwhelming, far more than enough to finish the god.

When he heard a soft noise behind him, he did not even bother to turn around to find out who or what it was. In this place of external marble purity, internal obsidian darkness, the mystical silence acknowledged only one being’s footsteps.

“Something wrong, Silentia?” He sneered, beginning to start his stretches. When the battle came, it was likely to be the last one, a grand match to the death between two fierce warriors. And (Sephiroth) knew who he intended on winning. Not that he had any doubts. Not really.

“Nothing. I merely wanted to see how you think you can stop him, the Senshi, and, more importantly, Zack.” Silentia replied evenly. Her green eyes sparkled with the same eagerness and hatred that he remembered from the first day they had met. “Sephiroth you could handle, maybe, if no one interferes, and the Senshi you could shred like so much garbage. But this isn’t a matter of defeating the Celestial Warriors, or even facing and joining with your first Triaside. This is about Zack.”

“Zack?” (Sephiroth)’s tone was a mixture of curiosity and disgust. (Sephiroth) could never forget what he had done to the Zack of his world. Given the wounds that the silver-haired general had inflicted on him, Zack could never have survived. That was all there was to it. Another Zack, one from a parallel world, but nonetheless, a person with the same face and same general traits, was all he needed right now. Another Zack, he realized, who could stand full force to a formation of sefers and come out with his head intact. That in itself was an impressive accomplishment. But he still couldn’t see how the short, ebon-haired man could possibly be more important, more dangerous, than one of his alter egos enhanced with celestial powers. Especially considering all of Silentia’s talk of the True Sephiroth.

The demon nodded. “Yes. Do not underestimate him. The power he hides is a terror that even he does not fully comprehend. Many of the darkest powers in the universe, even Chaos itself, would quail and beg for mercy at the mere mention of his true power unleashed. You would be wise to fear and respect it.”

“Do you fear his power?” (Sephiroth) asked rather bluntly.

Silentia smiled vaguely. “I am not a fool. As a gift from Phobideum, it carries as many weaknesses as strengths. Maybe more.”

(Sephiroth)’s brow furrowed slightly at this new insight. “Phobideum? You mean that Celestial Guardian you’re always jabbering about?” At Silentia’s slight nod, he continued. “I don’t understand. Phobideum is allied with the forces of the Light. But, from what you’re saying, it almost sounds as though he is sabotaging his own efforts. Why?”

“I knew the answer to that question, a long, long time ago.”

“And now you don’t, is that it?” The silver-haired general pushed, slightly disbelieving.

The female demon shrugged eloquently. “Correct. Now, I do not understand.”

To (Sephiroth), this seemed practically impossible. How could a being as strong as Silentia, a being who could crush human beings with a stare and corrupt human souls with the snap of a finger, how could she go from having knowledge, critical insight into the mind and workings of one of the most powerful warriors who has ever existed in any universe or reality, to simply ‘Now, I do not understand?’ How could that be?

Suddenly, (Sephiroth) felt a piece of the puzzle come together. “This has something to do with Phobideum, doesn’t it? He is the reason that you don’t understand how he thinks anymore. He did something to make it impossible for you to do that, didn’t he Silentia?”

Silentia’s raised eyebrow was all he needed to verify his hypothesis, but he took it as further reassurance when she opened her mouth and vaguely confirmed it. “Something to that effect.”

(Sephiroth) smirked. “That’s why you want revenge.” He stated, his lip curled mocking.

Silentia ignored him for the most part, only acknowledging his comment with a slight nod. “I have a few items that will help you to defeat them.” Before (Sephiroth) could respond, the she-demon continued. “You will accept them, or our partnership, and your life, will end. Is that understood?”

A note of respect now tinged (Sephiroth)’s contempt laden eyes. He nodded. “What do you have for me?”

From an inner pocket of her robes, Silentia drew two bracelets, pure jet in color with four spikes curled around its length, their points aimed downward and in, towards flesh. She carefully handed them to (Sephiroth). “When the time is right, place one of these on your left wrist and one on your weaker Triaside’s right wrist. When you have done this, you will be able to command enough power to demolish the god when he appears.” She smiled slightly, an innocuous expression on all except her. On her, it was enough to send a man running for cover. Sephiroth thought, somewhat bitterly, that it was a good thing that he was not a man. Silentia continued. “When you have defeated and consumed both of your Triasides, not even Phobideum at his maximum power will be able to stop you.”

As interested as (Sephiroth) was in Silentia’s rambling, moronic rants, he interrupted her. “And the other thing you want me to take?”

The demoness stopped in mid-word with as much grace as anyone could and gave another one of her smiles. This one actually unnerved (Sephiroth). A bit. “Very well.”

Out of the darkness, a man, or at least, a thing that resembled a man, approached. As it approached, the darkness began to abate like veils of blackness being lifted, allowing more of the man’s appearance to be seen. (Sephiroth) practically snarled at the sight of it, his disgust and hatred of the creature easily visible. Then the implications of its appearance hit him like Anger of the Land.

“You want me to fight the Celestial Warriors alongside that?!” He spat.

“Of course not. For one thing, you would never be able to control a malack. It would kill you long before you even came close to piercing its spirit veil.” Silentia returned contemptuously.

“Then why hell is it here!”

Silentia held her index finger up, wagging it back and forward as though scolding a child. “Impatient as well as ignorant, aren’t we? You just asked that question.” The demoness continued even as the silver-haired man smoldered. “It will not be there to fight the Celestial Warriors. That’s your job, you silly boy. The only thing the malack will be doing is kill that twit Zack.”

(Sephiroth) was silent for a few moments, taking this new information in. Then a grin that would have given a Cheshire cat a fit of envy split his face. He chuckled. “Well, then. That’s a different story. Let’s go.” He turned towards a blank wall, charging his hands with sparkling violet energy. A portal began to whirl into existence on the wall. (Sephiroth) looked at it a moment, as though something about it was wrong, but whatever it was must have been obviously inconsequential. He turned his head to her, sporting an insufferably smug grin. “Time for all good boys to earn their rewards.”

Silentia shook her head and ordered the blond-haired malack to follow as (Sephiroth) disappeared into the portal. ‘Arrogant to the end.’

She waited a moment, and then asked a single question, almost softly. “Are you trying to create another Pluto situation, Phobideum?”

The reply took only a moment. “Pluto was of little import. Those who died there did so in vain. This is not another Pluto situation. This I must believe. Not other reason holds any hope.” ------

Zack grunted as he twisted the wrench. "I've got a question for you, Sephiroth."

The silver-haired general looked up from his sweeping to eye his friend who was lying on his back. He raised an eyebrow at the absurdity of the situation and responded, somewhat disgruntled. "Your mouth never needed a safety before. Now's not the time to start. Shoot." He was in a bad mood right now. Zack’s inane ramblings usually helped him feel better.

The ebon-haired mercenary gave a slight chuckle. "That's true. Anyway, question is: How did we get ourselves into these kinds of situations? I mean, we didn't do anything wrong, so why do we have to suffer through this? Why can't Rei do her own plumbing and sweeping? I could... Sephiroth, is something the matter? You look a little... I dunno'... unstable?" Zack finished, carefully eyeing Sephiroth's rapidly darkening expression, whatever previous amusement he had felt now entirely dissipated, and assessing his chances.

Broom to wrench: advantage Zack.

Standing up to lying down: advantage Sephiroth.

Analysis: equal chances, all other factors notwithstanding.

'Uh-Oh.' Zack thought. Sephiroth dropped the broom and glared at Zack. 'Uh, maybe I should revaluate my chances.'

Bare-arms to wrench: advantage Sephiroth.

Standing up to lying down: advantage Sephiroth.

Being pissed off to feeling slightly noxious: advantage Sephiroth.

Analysis: Zack getting his ass kicked, conversational skills not withstanding.

“Zack,” the silver-haired warrior began slowly, “the only reason we’re even on cleanup duty here is because ‘someone’ decided that we weren’t doing enough around here to justify our residence. ‘Someone’ decided they needed to volunteer both of us for more KP duty than I’d give to fifteen delinquent cadets. And when ‘someone’ decided to tell me of this ‘enlightened’ plan, someone else, namely me, myself, and I, decided not to introduce ‘someone’s’ head to the left side of my right boot. If you start up on complaining about doing the duty that you volunteered for in the first place and knew full well in advance what it entailed, I am going to reconsider shoving my foot up your ass and leaving the boot there. Do I make myself clear?”

Zack gulped and chuckled nervously. “Heh, heh. No problems here. Don’t know what I was talking about before, heh, heh.”

Sephiroth grunted, picked up his broom, and continued sweeping. After a few minutes, he slowed his sweeping and smiled a wicked little smile. “So what happened on your date last night?”

The ebon-haired mercenary’s hand slipped at that moment, causing the wrench to come into sharp contact with his other hand. Muttering various and colorful metaphors under his breath, Zack crawled from underneath the sink, his expression sour. He slowly gathered himself and stood up, looking Sephiroth dead in the eye. That was an impressive feat, given that Sephiroth had a good half-foot on the raven haired man. “It went fucking great. Satisfied?”

“No. If I’m going to be stuck doing chores, then you are sure as hell going to tell me about your ‘date’. Now, if you don’t give me juicy details, then I’m just going to have to take out my negative feelings in some other way. Base line: either way you choose, you’re going to spill, so I suggest you spill the scoop.” The silver-haired warrior noted, his voice superior.

Zack snorted, disgusted how the conversation had turned so suddenly against him. He swore that he was going to find a way to kill both Usagi and Sephiroth: Usagi for setting him up on that damn blind date in the first place and Sephiroth for digging it up after the ebon-haired mercenary had thrown its magic-blasted corpse into the nearest open grave. Of course, it hadn’t been all bad... Especially the end… Just the ghost of that thought almost brought his golden power to the surface…

‘Stop. That is dangerous territory.’Zack quickly altered his subject of thought.

Zack finally decided that Sephiroth must have been in a real funk to have actually displayed a sense of humor about an event that the silver-haired general would have previously regarded with only the sternest sense of sobriety. The ebon-haired mercenary wondered what had softened the other warrior’s heart this much for a moment. Then the answer was there.

Zack tried to keep the smile off his face as he thought about it. If the look on Sephiroth’s face was any indication, he did not particularly succeed. The silver-haired warrior dropped his sneer and tried to look like he was minding his own business. “Forget it.”

Not about to give up now that he had the advantage in the conversation, Zack was about to respond when he felt it: the familiar tinge of a psychotic rage-haze punctuated by frequent bouts of drunken stupor. The feeling of a malack.

Choking back his feelings of disgust-laden pity for the creatures, a far cry from the thick contempt that he felt for the sefers, the ebon-haired mercenary straightened up and looked at Sephiroth, trying to determine if the silver-haired general had noticed the odious presence. Thus it was that Zack found himself quite surprised.

Sephiroth had dropped the broom again with a dull clatter, his fists clenched so tightly that the white of bone shone through to the surface. The shimmer of a primal fury, an ancient combat urge to find the chosen enemy of your faith and beat him into submission, beat him to death, was brewing, festering there, raging with all its might to break loose from the discipline-strengthened chains of an iron will, struggling to find an outlet through which it might shine on the battlefield as a crimson-soaked blade.

“Sephiroth!” Zack called to him swiftly, trying to shake him out of his haze. Too tight a focus on a killer instinct in a warrior often caused a loss of control. Given what had happened the last two times that Sephiroth had lost control of a situation – the summoning of the One-Winged Angel and the accelerated regressive time-damage curse and subsequent loss of his Jenova abilities – Zack would be damned if he let something like that happen again on his shift. No way.

Sephiroth didn’t give any visible reaction to Zack’s shout, but he slowly said to Zack in a tight voice. “Get the Senshi. Quickly. We’ve got some work to do.”

The ebon-haired mercenary only nodded shortly before vanishing into the Ethernet of teleportation. As he did so, he could not shake the horrible feeling that if he didn’t hurry, Sephiroth was going to try to fight that malack by himself. Zack tried not to shiver at that. He needed to hurry. ------

“Hurry up!” Sephiroth shouted, racing across the building tops in his Seishi form, Zack at his heels and the Senshi trailing along at various distances behind the raven haired warrior.

‘Faster. I have to go faster. He’s there. I know it.’ Gathering himself, Sephiroth leapt from the tip of one building and onto the middle of a rooftop six buildings further up. Zack landed next to him even as he staggered, trying to recover from the impact shock of jumping so far. Zack, Sephiroth noted with an equal mixture of disgust, envy, and fond pride, wasn’t even breathing hard as he landed, nor did he stagger in an attempt to find his balance. ‘I was right, all those days ago. Zack really is stronger than me. Way stronger. How did he become so strong? Or is it just that I’m too weak? Is that it? Even with all of the enhancements granted to me by this celestial blessing, am I just a weakling?’

Sephiroth leapt again, using his enhanced Seishi abilities and his own preternatural power to sense his alter ego in order to guide his motions. ‘I’ll end it today. By myself. It is a matter of my honor, my true worth: I cannot allow anyone to interfere in this fight. The hand that slays the Murderer of Nibelheim must be mine. There…There that bastard is.’

Just ahead of Sephiroth, perhaps only ten rooftops away, was the source of the dreadful feeling that surged throughout his body. (Sephiroth), the Murderer. Only by killing the silver-haired man could he find release from this gut-wrenching hatred, this soul enveloping battle urge. Until that happened, until either one of them lay shattered and broken, no other emotion or state of mind could break through: not the cool determination that had won him so many battles on the Planet, not the pride he found in his new skills or the disappointment at the loss of Jenoviac abilities. Not even the budding feelings he held in his heart, the feelings that as a whole he could only define as, and then only with the greatest sense of terror that the silver-haired SOLDIER had ever felt, love for Hotaru.

Of course, he could be wrong. When he looked at (Sephiroth)’s side, he saw something that shocked him out of his battle rage for a moment. Cloud. But… that was impossible… What in the world was Cloud doing here?

Sephiroth felt a hand on his shoulder. Zack. “You take care of Happy Boy, Jr. over there and I’ll handle Cloud.”

The silver-haired warrior shook his head even as the Senshi began to catch up to their location. “I don’t understand. Why is Cloud here and why is he working with the Murderer?!”

For a moment, Sephiroth could sense a deep sorrow within Zack’s eyes, a grief that chilled him bone deep. The former SOLDIER general did not even have time enough to ponder this before it disappeared, replaced by a rather businesslike attitude that was quite unlike the raven-haired mercenary. “I’ll tell you later, Sephiroth. For right now, you’re just going to have to trust me. I’m sorry about that.” Zack evaded with a profound sigh, his eyes focused on the nemesis duo that they were facing. He turned to face the Senshi and ordered without prelude. “Go down.”

“I beg your pardon?” Usagi asked, as shocked by what she thought Zack had just ordered her team to do as by who had said it. She personally thought that if anyone of the two newcomers could turn into a loner with such abrupt quickness, it would probably have been Sephiroth. When not training, the silver-haired man was frighteningly taciturn to anyone but Zack, Hotaru, Mamoru, or Rei. The golden-haired leader of the Sailor Senshi still couldn’t understand why two men as closemouthed as her husband and the silver-haired general spoke more to each other than anyone else. Usagi sighed mentally. Some days she just didn’t understand how men thought. This being one of those days.

“No offense, but you would be of little use in this battle.” Zack said briefly, eyeing the opposing team. “This battle will not be the last one that takes place, so I doubt you will have to fear not having your share of the fighting to do. But in this battle, do not interfere. This one is personal. Trust me.”

The leader of the Senshi looked at him for a moment, her gaze thoughtful before she nodded. “Okay, we’ll do what you say. This time. But if you need help, just call us; we’ll be glad to help. Don’t get in over your head.” Usagi then leapt to the ground, signaling the Senshi to follow. Hotaru paused for a moment, glancing at Sephiroth in concern. The silver-haired warrior, for his part, did not seem to notice and continued sending threatening glares at his alter ego. With a small sigh, the raven-haired woman joined her teammates on the ground.

“You say you know what’s going on here?” Sephiroth murmured to Zack, still scanning his adversary. Without even giving the ebon-haired mercenary a chance to reply, he continued. “Good. Once this is over, you will explain it to me.”

Zack shrugged. This was going to be one hell of a fight and he didn’t want to waste his energy with draining truths.

-----------------------------

“You know, I’m actually kind of sorry that I have to destroy you.” (Sephiroth) commented as he moved through the early stages of a training kata, his Masamune whistling as it sliced through the air. He sounded bored.

“Really. Well, you can take that ‘sorry’ and shove it, because I’m not stopping till you lie cold and dead.” Sephiroth replied venomously, black and green energy playing over the contours of his body, enhancing his speed and reflexes. Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing.

(Sephiroth)’s widened slightly in amusement. “Youch. Somebody’s on their period.” He shrugged. “So be it.”

Returning the Masamune to his start position, with hilt near his waist, the majority of the blade placed behind him, edge facing opponent, (Sephiroth) began to charge for his first attack. Ebon energy coursed through the Masamune’s blade, occasionally gushing out as pure black flame.

Seeing this, Sephiroth began charging a counter that he was fairly sure could handle whatever his alter ego was about to throw at him. Pure white flames manifested themselves heavily along the kris’ edges.

“Let’s go! Darkform Shockwave!” A massive swath of dark energy was released from his opponent’s Masamune, racing toward Sephiroth at blinding speed.

“Alright, you asked for it! Gaia-Form Shockwave!” Swinging his weapons furiously, as though he were in the middle of an Omnislash, Sephiroth watched, still in awe of this new celestial power, as the short white bars of flame that were released in rather short order from his wavy-edged weapons met, engulfed, and destroyed the approaching wall of death. A few of the white energy blasts even managed to chase toward (Sephiroth)’s position, threatening the dark spellcaster with bodily harm.

His face impassive, (Sephiroth) deflected each of the incoming pure flame blasts using his Masamune in swift, curt movements. Satisfied that the silver-haired Seishi was no longer hurling projectiles at him, (Sephiroth) leaned backwards, cracking his back, before leaning to the side, cracking his neck. Then he smiled.

“Perhaps I underestimated you. I expected you to fall over at the attack of my first sefer and you survived. I sent a full dozen sefers to best you, and you emerged from that fight stronger than before. Not only did one of my best attacks not hurt you, you actually managed to make me have to riposte one of your attacks afterward! Oh, ho! I must say, you are quite the impressive little warrior.”

“Shut up! I neither want nor need you goddamn speeches on your so-called prowess or your dim conception of mine. By the time you die, Murderer of Nibelhiem, you will know what a true warrior is.” Sephiroth sneered, eyes narrowed, at his opponent.

As soon as the silver-haired Celestial Warrior mentioned Nibelhiem, all traces of amusement left his opponent’s demeanor, Sephiroth noted clinically. (Sephiroth)’s eyes grew dark and cold and when he spoke, his voice was as cold as the dark of space.

“Fine then, teach me, if you know.”

The Sephiroths raced forward to give battle.

--------------------------

The last time he had gotten into combat with a malack, Zack had only escaped death because of the Savior’s presence, standing tall against the soulless emissary of the dark and scattering its essence to the winds like chaff. Without his mentor’s aid and support against this deadly opponent, the mercenary could not feel certain of victory, and hence, a tremor of emotion ran through his body.

Fear. Hatred. Anxiety. Hatred. Nervousness. Hatred.

Because of creatures like this one, his friend was now dead. He pitied the spirit of the unfortunate soul that had been forced to endure such torture, to live such a “life”. No one should have to suffer such torment. In most all of the civilized societies in his dimension, the creation of such an unholy terror was the equivalent of a pangalactic declaration of war, so horrible and feared were the malacks. But as much as he felt sorry for what this person had been forced to become, Zack knew that ripping this creature apart limb from limb would give him nothing but the utmost satisfaction.

‘Silentia, you’ve been trying to press my buttons for the past nine centuries,’ Zack thought as his body consciously loosed itself for the battle ahead. ‘Now that I’ve actually begun to understand and cultivate a little of this acquired power of mine, I’ll show you what it feels like when someone pushes back.’

Golden power shocked along his limbs, pulsating under the wild, untamed strength that it commanded. It spread along his torso and abdomen like a wildfire, soon consuming his entire body in pure brilliance. The crest of his spiky hair shown like a halo, illuminating his features with a strange and unearthly power and majesty. If the malack had a soul, or even the barest of independent thought, even it would have felt humbled under the aura of strength that Zack now commanded.

Then it spoke, with an undercurrent of infernal strength in its speech, lending the listener a small glimpse of the power it held in the words that it said.

“Ah, the failure. I see that you have healed well since the last time we spoke. Your command of His power is actually almost impressive. For a human, that is. That is fortunate, since when I kill you, I want you to be at full strength. Otherwise, it’s no fun.”

Zack snarled, unsheathing his Buster Sword and holding it in attack position. “Enough talk. Let’s fight.”

His opponent only nodded, the crest of spiky blond hair weaving to and fro from the motion. “As you wish. Come at me.” The malack smiled an empty smirk as it waggled it fingers at the ebon-haired mercenary, beckoning him onward.

Zack wasted no time attacking the malack with a huge horizontal slash, which the creature easily avoided by stepping back. The spiky-haired monstrosity grabbed hold of Zack’s Buster Sword in mid-swing, easily pulling it from the mercenary’s grasp before it snapped it right fist forward into a powerful hook. The ebon-haired mercenary staggered back, stunned by the level of skill and power that the unholy malack displayed.

The blond-haired creature began its own offensive, taking advantage of the off balance mercenary. It launched into a fierce sweep kick that knocked Zack completely off his feet. The ebon-haired mercenary rolled to the side to dodge the swiftly falling stomps that the malack directed towards his midsection and head. In the corner of his eye, Zack saw the evidence of the malack’s power: wherever its foot had landed in an attempt to smash into Zack, the concrete that comprised the roof had not only been cracked, it had been reduced to fine power. The ebon-haired mercenary shrugged off a mental shiver at the thought of what such strength could do to him, even in his powered up state.

Zack distantly heard the cries of battle as the two Sephiroths dueled on a nearly rooftop, the sound of energy discharges and the smell of ozone clear as the two silver-haired warriors were apparently going all out.

‘Time for that later. Survive for now, then you can worry what the precious Warrior is doing.’ His battle instincts and Phobideum’s instructions shouted to him.

Zack smashed his foot into the malack’s kneecap, watching the monstrosity waver as it’s balance was threatened. The ebon-haired mercenary used those few moments of distraction, and they were few because malacks could not feel pain, to flip upright, sending his feet flying into the creature’s face as he did so. It stumbled back a step, then two, maintaining its balance from the surprise attack even as its spirit veil began to slowly repair the damage that the mercenary had done to its knee.

Its eyes were empty as it spoke. “Impressive. Most humans, even those with the strength of a true Cetran blessing, cannot damage a malack. Its spirit veil is too strong, and so they die without even scratching the surface of these marvelous,” The malack held its hand before its face, as though admiring it, “enhanced carapaces. Really takes the most of the fun out of the fight when there’s no risk at all.”

“Don’t you EVER shut up!” Zack screamed at the creature, exasperated by its endless chatter.

The malack did not reply. At least not verbally. It shimmered and then disappeared.

Zack stretched out with his senses, trying in vain to determine where the monstrosity has vanished to. The seconds stretched out as his anxiety enhanced senses increased his perception-reaction time, waiting for the inevitable attack.

When it came, the only warning the mercenary had before the malack’s fist crashed into the back of his head, smashing him face first into the rooftop, was a the smallest of shimmers in his peripheral vision; far too late to do anything to stop the assault. Zack’s vision reeled from the impact, sending his concentration scattered to the four winds. The golden flames encircling him slowly flickered out.

Then he felt the creature’s hands on the back of his uniform and knew matters had turned from bad to worse. The malack pulled Zack over its head, dropping to its knee and turning the mercenary over like it was preparing a sacrifice.

Zack groaned as realized what the soulless creature was about to do. ‘Ah, shit. This is gonna’ hurt.’

The ebon-haired mercenary felt the world drop away as the malack descended into the backbreaker. The harsh crack as vertebrae snapped and shattered reverberated as Zack’s world exploded in agony. The blond-haired creature pushed Zack off its leg like rubbish, smirking cruelly at the mercenary’s back as he moaned in impotent pain.

“I thought that you could actually provide me with a good fight, but I guess I was wrong. As soon as I turned up the malack’s power up in the slightest, you folded like a five-dollar whore! You are nothing like what your master was. Where he was well nigh invincible, you are pathetic. You shame his memory with your weakness!” The creature laughed cuttingly.

At that moment, all the pain in Zack’s body melted away, replaced by white hot rage and golden flames. The broken bones in his back refused under the pure flame, leaving them stronger than before.

In one smooth motion, the ebon-haired mercenary rose, grabbed the malack by the throat, reared backed, and threw the creature into the next rooftop, embedding it there. Cloaked in golden power like a righteous avenging god, Zack teleported next to the creature, hovering a foot above the concrete. Try as the malack did, it could not manage to stand and fight again. Now it was the malack who was helpless, who could not fight back.

“I Told You To Shut Up.” The golden-powered fighter stated, his voice echoing through the creature’s hollow ears. Concentrating the majority of his active power into his fist, Zack formed the head and body of a terrifying reptile composed of liquid power along his arm. “You Should Have Listened.”

Bringing the arm near the malack’s face, Zack called out the attack that would annihilate the horrible creature. “Kyrie Dragon!”

As the white dragon consumed the darkness within it, effectively destroying it, the malack whispered. “Impressive...”

Ignoring the wonderful feeling of life and energy and joy now flowing through him, Zack shut the flaming power off, making him suddenly feel weak-kneed. Much as he would like to help Sephiroth fight his alter ego right now, he would have to sit this one out. Zack had exhausted himself using his mentor’s signature move and if he pressed the power any further, he knew it would kill him. Right now, all he could do was wish Sephiroth the best of luck.

-------------------------------

“I’m taking you down!” Sephiroth ducked (Sephiroth)’s horizontal slash, before charging forward and making another shallow cut along the other silver haired man’s ribcage to match the one on his opponent’s left arm from a previous assault. The only reward he got for the point having to pull both Carvers of Ruin together in a defensive V formation against his opponent’s Masamune, as the inflicted wound closed within a few seconds’ time and was entire gone in less then ten seconds, allowing (Sephiroth) to fight unimpeded. The poison that was coated on his krises, Sephiroth dourly noted, still did not seem to have kicked in against (Sephiroth).

The silver haired warrior could see (Sephiroth) leering at him through the crossed blades of their respective weapons. Sephiroth gritted his teeth, sarcastically remarking. “What’s the matter? See something you like?”

(Sephiroth) did not even blink. “As a matter of fact, I do. But first, I have a question for you. Care to answer it?”

Sephiroth shifted his shoulders slightly, preparing for a move that would leave (Sephiroth) flat on his ass. “Sure. Why not?”

The other silver haired man chuckled darkly. “You did very well to neutralize it at long-range.” (Sephiroth)’s features grew sharper while speaking. “But do you think you can withstand my attack, point blank?” Sephiroth’s eyes widened as he realized what his alternate self was talking about.

“No!” He called in disbelief for having fallen into such a trap.

(Sephiroth) gave another short bark of laughter. “That’s what I thought, too! Darkform Shockwave!” Even as Sephiroth watched, purplish-black death energy began to gather in his opponent’s Masamune. ‘Damnit,’ Sephiroth thought, ‘I can’t avoid it at this range and I don’t have time enough to call upon Gaia Pulse Shockwave to neutralize his attack.’ Sephiroth acknowledged that his celestial powers carried abilities that could cover a wide range of battle contingencies, but only if they were used correctly. He should have used his Phantom Blades to disable (Sephiroth)’s weapon, but being so caught up in the image of Nibelheim and the thrill of battle had overridden his cold, impartial battle spirit. Now he was in for a world of hurt.

The shockwave knocked him back harshly, throwing him off the roof of the building, and violently bit and tore at his uniform and flesh as he fell. The wind howled in his ear as the shockwave tore itself apart, spilling onto his arms, legs, and face. Sephiroth gritted his teeth in pain as the energy attempted to consume him.

Then he landed. With a harsh crack, the cement splintered at his impact, leaving a vaguely man-shaped crater in the road. Completely out of breath and with at least three ribs broken, he was sure, Sephiroth could do little more than wheeze as he lay there, trying to recover enough energy to stand up. The Senshi had gathered round him, looking concerned. Ami knelt near him, withdrawing her caduceus, preparing to heal him for another round of fighting.

Sephiroth threw her entirely off her guard when he reached up, grabbed the holy healing relic, and threw it down the road. The Senshi backed up a step or two at this, wondering at the state of their companion. Hotaru alternated between staring with concern at the silver-haired warrior’s attempts to stand alone and trying to gage what (Sephiroth) was going to do next.

(Sephiroth) stood on the top of the building, staring down at the assembled warriors with an insolent smile plastered on his face. As he began to speak, Hotaru could not help but think that he was every bit as arrogant as his adopted features indicated. Again Hotaru wondered how someone like Sephiroth could become someone like the Murderer.

“Your celestial powers may have bought you some time, and I have to admit that I am almost impressed, but it’s all over now.” (Sephiroth) declared, pulling a black bracelet from a hidden pocket in his trenchcoat. He slipped it onto his left forearm. No sooner then it had cleared his hand, prongs withdrew from it, stabbing into his arm and securing places there. (Sephiroth)’s face twisted in pain as lines of crimson began to flow from his wound. (Sephiroth) swallowed, trying to ignore the pain, but it was fairly obvious that not only was the pain extraordinary, but also his flesh was not healing.

Still, (Sephiroth) did nothing, even as a full minute passed and Sephiroth, again refusing the aid of the Senshi, regained his feet, dragging himself out of the rather large impact crater. His Seishi uniform was burnt and torn in several places and his lip was swollen and bleeding. Although he still moved with exceptional speed and grace, it was no longer as fluid a motion as it had once been. Where once he had been fresh and confident, now he was haggard and weary.

When (Sephiroth)’s arm had been completely covered in his blood, he looked down at Sephiroth again. The two silver-haired men traded glances, reviewing each other’s status and trying to guess their chances. Sephiroth figured that with his present condition that unless his alter ego’s bracelet impeded his swordsmanship immensely, he had little chance of winning the next one of their solo exchanges. The Senshi might try to help, but on this battle, their help was the last thing he wanted. This was a matter of Sephiroths. Only Sephiroths should deal with it.

And now was the time to finish it. (Sephiroth) leapt from the top of the building, hurtling towards the ground like the angel of death, the wicked arc of the Masamune shining brilliantly as the dark SOLDIER’s cloak billowed around him. The Senshi tensed. The next few moments would decide everything… -----------------------------------------  

The first clue (Sephiroth) had that something was definitely wrong was his neck snapping. Like a puppet with its strings cut, his body fell limp, smashing into the concrete and leaving an impact crater similar to the one his other self had made.

(Sephiroth) groaned in pain as his broken ribs healed themselves, unable to move the majority of his body due to the nerve damage caused by his broken neck. Almost unnoticed, Silentia’s bracelet fell off. The silver-haired warrior mumbled a healing spell through gritted teeth, hissing as the wounded nerve strand slowly became whole again. He tilted his head upward, glancing a pair of amethyst eyes staring down at him in amusement and contempt, attached to a face that was his own. It was the god. Sephiroth.

“Do You Know Who I Am?” The deity spoke, clad only in a pair of rough black trousers and barefoot, lifting (Sephiroth) by the hair until the two silver-haired warriors were eye-to-eye. Straining away from the fierce hold, (Sephiroth) answered in a harsh whisper.

“Yeah, you’re Deus Sephiroth, the God of Nightmares.”

Sephiroth smirked. “Good. Then I don’t have to talk like a fricken stiff any more.” The god dropped (Sephiroth), who used the opportunity to roll away from the deity. Deus Sephiroth smile widened at the look of intense caution that entered his weaker self’s face. “You know, I actually like that name, Deus Sephiroth. I guess I’ll have to figure out some way to thank you. But, hmmm… how could I do that?” Sephiroth scratched his chin, appearing to be in deep contemplation.

“You’re insane.” (Sephiroth) stated, off put by his alter ego’s strange behavior.

Deus Sephiroth shrugged. “Seventh generation crazy. Should wear off in a week or two, at least by my watch.” The god held up his arm and pointed at an imaginary timepiece, ignoring the shades of disbelief and amusement that illuminated (Sephiroth)’s and the Senshis’ faces. “Though that does give me an idea of how I can thank you for that pretty new name.”

“And that is?” (Sephiroth) deadpanned.

“Oh, I think you’ll like it.” Deus Sephiroth grinned impishly. If not for the swirling violet maelstroms of his eyes, he might have looked like an innocent child, hell-bent on mischief. As it was, the God of Nightmares reminded (Sephiroth) more of Silentia when the demoness was in a particularly murderous mood. “Kira Sephiroth. What do you think?”

(Sephiroth)’s mind exploded in fury and self-hate as his mind processed the name. Kira Sephiroth. Roughly translated, it meant ‘Sephiroth the Murderer’. First his younger self brought the memory of the night of flame and blood back to his mind full blast, and now the god. He couldn’t take this much longer or he would snap, like he had in Nibelheim, perhaps even worse. (Sephiroth) didn’t think that he could survive waking up from a dream to find that he had put more innocent people in their graves. War was one thing, accomplishing his life’s chosen mission was another, but that… that was senseless carnage based upon complete illusion: A complete waste.

As his hate and anger built, Kira Sephiroth let go of his self-control, giving himself over to his blood rage. Murder built in his eyes: the sum of all his rage and anger and despair manifested. (Sephiroth) charged the god, swinging his Masamune like a madman, screaming all the while in hopeless anger and torment as Sephiroth ducked and dodged every strike with childlike ease. “Shut up! You should know better than anyone else here! I didn’t want to do what I did! I didn’t want to kill those people in Nibelheim! I don’t want to be the Murderer! I don’t want to be remembered that way!”

Kira Sephiroth stepped back, pulling the Masamune high above him, concentrating all of his remaining available magical and spiritual energy into one final strike, determined to make the god stop tormenting him. He didn’t care that when the attack was over, he would be completely defenseless, lacking even the strength to stand upright. Nor did (Sephiroth) forget the Warrior’s vow to not rest until his body was lying stone cold dead on the ground. Right now, it really just didn’t matter. The survival of his body was of secondary importance, because if he did not defeat the god, his soul would die, destroyed by its own self-hatred.

“Leave now or I’ll destroy you!” (Sephiroth) commanding, his voice booming with the power he had gathered and his body shimmering with power the color of bloody darkness.

Deus Sephiroth cocked his head to the side. “Strange, I don’t believe you made that offer to Aeris. What makes me so special?”

The final cord of (Sephiroth)’s self-control snapped. “That’s it! You’re dead! Raziel Force!” Briefly, the image of a crimson-cloaked angel with four pitch-black wings appeared in Kira Sephiroth’s place, features gritted in defiance. Then, the attack began. The Masamune dissolved in a shower of red-rimmed white energy spheres which condensed into a single sphere approximately the size of a softball, which rested in (Sephiroth)’s right hand.

“Is that it? All of your energy, all of your power, and all you can do for an attack is form a ball to throw at me? I must say, Kira, I am not impressed.” Sephiroth sneered.

Kira Sephiroth allowed himself a smile. With a force similar to lightning, (Sephiroth) sent his ultimate attack on its way. Sephiroth crouched defensively as the crimson orb approached him. Not that it did him all that much good.

When it got near him, the orb’s outer layer fractured off, forming two rings that encircled and contained the god, lifting him dozens of meters off the ground. The inner part of the orb exploded into the composite red-white spheres and then began to violently slam into Deus Sephiroth from all angles and directions. This continued for several seconds until they felt their master’s call and reformed into the Masamune. Using his powers of flight, (Sephiroth) grabbed the Sword of Destruction and brought it around for one last do-or-die slash on the bound god. Finally, the attack over and his power exhausted, the rings trapping the God of Nightmares dissolved. Overcome by the physical, mental, and emotional strain of the battle, Kira Sephiroth fell out of the sky, barely conscious.

This time, his landing was a little softer.

That might have been because the Warrior Sephiroth caught him. -

“Watch him. I’ve got some questions that need answers, and he’s got them.” Sephiroth said as he handed his alter ego off to the Celestial Warriors. His gaze became hard. “If he makes any threatening movements, don’t hesitate. Flashfry him. I’d rather have a few unanswered questions and him dead, than for one of you to be killed.” As his eyes moved from Senshi to Senshi, they stopped on Hotaru for a moment or two longer than was strictly necessary to communicate the import of the situation before moving on. The Celestial Warrior of Darkness held his gaze for the briefest of instants, the flame of determination that burned there drowning out whatever fears or insecurities that might exist, telling Sephiroth that he could count on her to trust and follow his advice, even when others lacked the will or the strength.

Before turning to face Deus Sephiroth, the silver-haired Seishi took one last look at his alter ego, examining the damage the god had done to him. Fortunately for (Sephiroth), his healing powers had made his exhaustion-marked face the worst of his maladies. A few small tears in (Sephiroth)’s trenchcoat were the only other clues that he had been through two grueling fights.

Sephiroth remembered his alter ego’s screaming at the god. ‘Shut up! You should know better than anyone else here! I didn’t want to do what I did! I didn’t want to kill those people in Nibelheim! I don’t want to be the Murderer! I don’t want to be remembered that way!’ He didn’t? If so, why had he? Had he been controlled? If so, why was he still allied to evil forces: why was he still working for Jenova? Too many unanswered questions. Nowhere near enough answers.

Only one thought was certain: if they both lived through this battle, nothing could be the same between the two Sephiroths. How could you fight someone that you genuinely pitied? The Seishi of Ruin and Rebirth didn’t know.

Now facing the most immediate threat to their survival, Sephiroth reminded himself again of why exactly Deus Sephiroth was so dangerous. ‘Let’s see: One. He’s a god. The God of Nightmares, but whether he is more or less dangerous than your average god is yet to be seen. Two. His defense, agility, and speed seem to be sky high. He dodged every shot my alter ego threw at him with no effort at all and the only result of the Limit Break that Kira Sephiroth did to him is a small gash on Sephiroth’s chest that didn’t even bleed! Three. He is supposed to be immortal. Not really my quest in life to kill him, just yet anyway, soo… minimal problems there. Maybe later I’ll consider giving his possible immortality more thought. Like if I live through this battle. Four. He’s insane. Since he’s not thinking logically, there’s no telling what he’ll do. Also, it’s going to make talking my way out of this a tough one. Five and possibly most important. In addition to having the capacity to be as annoying as Zack is on his best day, Deus Sephiroth knows how we tick. He was able to infuriate (Sephiroth) so much that he blindly attacked the god. Final Sum: One seriously dangerous foe.’

“You can’t be serious.” Sephiroth stated, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Murder Boy over there has more overall power than you when you are at full power and you’re wounded. You don’t stand half a chance against me.”

“Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Nothing. Just sit back and accept my apology and my ‘your welcome’. Deus Sephiroth smiled, full of a strange, convoluted contentedness, and then closed his eyes in concentration.

“What…?” Sephiroth wondered in genuine confusion over the god’s words. What the hell was he talking about? Whatever it was did not exactly fill the silver-haired warrior with the greatest of confidence.

Then he saw what Deus was doing and what little assurance he had shrunk. All around him and the Senshi holes in the concrete began to appear and expand. These openings in the street did not lead underground, however, but rather into a blackened void. These dark circles continued to grow until they reached a diameter of three meters. Then the portals stilled.

“Nightmare Legion! From The Purity Of Death, Awaken To Shadowy Unlife!” The God of Nightmares commanded. And in response to his infernal voice, the portals burst forth with nightmares living.

They were horrible to behold: eight feet tall each, they were broad and winged. Scales covered their skin and their eyes glimmered snakelike, malevolence flickering like stars in their eyes. Three inch black talons adorned every finger and their muscles bulged with unholy strength. Possibly worse than their looks was their smell, however. It was like the worst battleground the seasoned general had ever been to: blood and rotted corpses, vomit and urine, with the slightest scent of char and ozone. Sephiroth managed to successfully fight the urge to relive his breakfast.

The worst thing about them, however, had to be their numbers. Sephiroth quickly counted thirty-some of the demons and more were arriving by the second. The silver-haired Seishi quickly revised his list. ‘Six and possibly most important. He can summon a seemingly infinite number of very large, presumably very powerful demons.’

Turning around, Sephiroth quickly found that the Senshi were surrounded by roughly twenty of the creatures. (Sephiroth) still could not move very much and the demons did not seem to be making any overtly threatening gestures, so he turned his attention back to his godly incarnation, awaiting his next move.

He didn’t have long to wait.

“Nightmare Legion Rear Guard, Defensive Posture! Form A Wall And Restrict Their Passage!” The demons surrounding the Celestial Warriors quickly formed a triple thick wall preventing the Seishi of Ruin and Rebirth from rejoining the Senshi.

‘It may be that he is insane, but he has lost none of his tactical ability. Classic strategy: divide and conquer.’

Sephiroth had no time for further thought as the god called out his next orders.

“Nightmare Legion Fore Guard! Advance And Confine!” At their master’s words, the nightmare demons marched toward Sephiroth, intent on his capture. Raising his krises in defensive posture, the silver-haired warrior vowed not to give in without one hellacious fight.

As the first demon reached him, it reared back realizing that it was missing several fingers; victims of the Carvers of Ruin. Sephiroth proceeded in that fashion, taking them one by one, injuring and maiming them until they retreated, and then focusing his attention on the next one. However, these demons were smart and soon devised a counter-plan to Sephiroth’s strategy. All at once, over a dozen demons rushed him, restraining his hands and feet, making him immobile and impotent.

In the background, the Seishi of Darkness could hear the cries of the Celestial Warriors fighting the God of Nightmare’s demons. He also knew that it was worthless. Even assuming that the demons made no counterattack and took only two attacks each to die, Sephiroth quickly calculated that by the time the Senshi broke through the living wall of demons, he would already be dead or worse.

Deus Sephiroth approached him, wearing the most somber expression that Sephiroth had ever seen. Gripping the Warrior’s head tightly between his fingers, the god brought their faces nose-to-nose. Then, he heard the booming voice of the God of Nightmares resounding throughout his skull.

‘Nightmares. They are the final sum of your fears and your secret desires. A man who can face and defeat his nightmares can gain power equal to the Gods. But he who lacks the courage and moral fortitude to stand against his darker, baser side shall find that he has destroyed all that he loves, all for trinkets.’

‘Understand this, Celestial Warrior of Darkness. I failed to comprehend these basic truths and as penance for my lack of understanding, I spent millennia untold wasting away on a cold, dead rock that I once called my home. I was weak and because of me, all that I cherished died. I hate to subject you to this trial, for if you fail, you will suffer far more than I. But, in this matter, my hands are tied. If you are not strong, if you do not succeed, then the Silence will regain in strength and cover all worlds, all dimensions. And from the Silence will spawn beings that will make Chaos look like a candy thief.’

‘The prophecies are vague and misleading. Do not believe them! The Warrior, the Martyr, and the Murderer are the three who will decide this conflict, yes, but their positions are not static as Phobideum believes. Any who truly serve the Light for their moment becomes the Warrior. Any who truly serve the Silence for their moment becomes the Murderer. Any who truly serve their hearts for their moment becomes the Martyr.’

‘And so I give you the Trial of Nightmares. You will be given a voice. When you wake and when you dream, you will hear it. Through it, your deepest, darkest fears and desires shall come to life. Should you fail to understand what I have told you, all you care for will be annihilated. But, should you manage to pass this test, you will gain the power you desperately need to protect those whom you love. Good luck. May your will be stronger than mine was.’

Sephiroth’s eyes and mouth glowed brilliant gold and worms of the same color light erupted from themand flowed into Sephiroth’s orifices. As the worms dug into his mind and body and heart and soul, the Seishi of Ruin and Rebirth heard a new voice next to him, whispering into his ear as though a part of him that had been too long denied. ‘HELLO, SEPHIROTH. MY NAME IS JINKUN TAIYOU. YOU CAN CALL ME JIN. FROM NOW ON, WE ARE GOING TO BE THE BEST OF FRIENDS. PRATICALLY INSEPERABLE.’

As Sephiroth screamed, his metallic silver mane shone gold and his emerald eyes became the same. -

“Nightmare Legion! Cease and Disperse!” The God’s call to his minions was a welcome noise as the Senshi’s remaining foes abruptly vanished into the ether. Leaning on her Silence Glaive for support, the exhausted Hotaru anxiously looked toward the god’s direction, eagerly searching for evidence of what had happened to Sephiroth. She found her answer standing next to the God of Nightmares.

Someone who looked like Sephiroth stood there, his hair a brilliant sheen of gold instead of the metallic silver of the SOLDIER general. For a moment, the Senshi of Silence almost thought it was Sephiroth in truth, but one look into those eyes crushed any such hopes that she had. His eyes were gold, with a derisive amusement and aloof detachment in them that Hotaru would have expected from Nehelenia or Galaxia, but not from the enigmatic warrior that she was becoming fond of.

The pair of warriors had approached the Senshi’s position while Hotaru had been thinking. The Celestial Warriors watched them with caution, unsure of their motives and intentions and worried by the apparent domination of Sephiroth by his godly alter ego. The god spoke, commanding imperiously. “Step Aside, Senshi. My Only Concern Here Is For The Murderer That You Shelter. Release Him To My Care And I Will Be On My Way, And No Harm Shall Come To You By My Hand.”

Usagi swallowed briefly, gathering her courage before stepping up to the god and responding, her tone and face polite but resolute. “I’m afraid we can’t do that. We have some questions that need answering and he has the answers. Besides, Sephiroth entrusted us to watch him until he came back.” The leader of the Sailor Senshi spared the gold-haired doppelganger a harsh cerulean gaze before facing the god again.

Deus Sephiroth looked thoughtful for a moment, at least until he scratched his head in confusion and pointed toward his golden-eyed alter ego. “But, lookie, there he is. He’s back. Now can I have the Murderer? Huh, can I?” The God of Nightmares inquired, abandoning his godly authority and dignity in favor of childlike innocence and naiveté.

“That is not Sephiroth!” Hotaru hissed in fury, surprising the Senshi and herself with the violence of her reply. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, but…I can’t stand to have that thing claim Sephiroth’s name and not going to give the Murderer Sephiroth to the God of Nightmares. Sephiroth trusted me. I can’t let him down.’

“Details, details.” The golden-eyed being spoke calmly, sending shivers of fury down Hotaru’s spine. He even sounded exactly like Sephiroth.

“I don’t think they’re going to give us Kira. What are we going to do, Jin?” The god questioned vaguely, identifying the mysterious creature.

“What are you, two? Just beat them up and, when they are unconscious, do what you came here to do. It’s that simple.” Jin responded, sounded disgusted.

Scratching his chin, Sephiroth responded. “Yeah, but I don’t want them to hate me later. I just want to be friends and have fun. Because, can’t you just,” The God gestured ambiguously, “incapacitate them?”

Jin snorted. “Fine, just remember your side of our deal.” The golden-eyed being extended his right hand outward, palm up and facing the Senshi. The Celestial Warriors could only wait, crouched and ready to spring out of danger’s way, wondering in what form the assault would come. When it did, it came in twos.

Dark tentacles erupted from his hand, rushing forth with incredible speed and slamming into Ami and Usagi before they could react, sending them flying backwards. In midair, they de-transformed, landing harshly without the protection of their powers. Jin repeated his pattern again and again, first sending Rei and Setsuna, then Minako and Haruka, and finally Makoto and Michiru flying, their powers deserting them as soon as the black appendages touched them. The tentacles withdrew into Jin’s hand, leaving Hotaru untouched, and the golden-eyed being turned to the God of Nightmares. “Satisfied?”

“What about her?”

Jin licked his lips, a smile slowly widening across his face. “I’ll deal with her in my own way.”

Deus smiled narrowly. “As you wish.” He walked past the fallen Senshi, trusting that Hotaru’s caution of Jin’s abilities would keep the Senshi of Death and Destruction from attacking him, intent on the exhausted Murderer.

Eyes thick with distrust and more than a little fear, Hotaru watched the golden-haired creature approach her, stopping at a mere distance of ten feet. “Why don’t you disarm me the way you did the rest of the Senshi?”

Whatever answer she was expecting, it wasn’t the one she got.

“I like you.”

Hotaru’s eyes widened till they resembled saucers, her face blanching. “You what!”

Jin chuckled heartily. “Don’t get me wrong. My attraction to you is not of my choosing, nor indeed his, but it is his fault. Not that I’m complaining. You are quite the beauty. Positively ravishing.”

The Senshi of Silence ignored her rising blush at his compliments, ignoring the unintentional insults, and focusing on his other words. “You said it was his fault. Who is he?”

“You mean you really don’t know?” If it was possible, Jin sounded surprised.

Anxiety and a vague dread began to crawl into her stomach. “No. Who is it?”

“It’s Sephiroth. He’s in love with you.” Shaking his head from side to side, Jin’s eyes betrayed his amazement. “You really didn’t know, did you?”

To say that she was stunned was an understatement. “Sephiroth was… in love with me?”

The golden-eyed began to walk toward her, slowly so as not to scare her, but Hotaru was so out of it she would not have noticed if he had started running at her. “Not was…is.”

Hotaru looked up, only to find that the golden-eyed being face-to-face with her. Her mind wiped of all resistance by the creature’s words and, unknowingly to her, his covert telepathic commands, the Senshi of Silence did not struggle as Jin placed his hands around her shoulders tugging her to him.

As Jin’s lips descended on hers, lightly brushing across the surface of her lips, Hotaru felt her mind abandon her completely. “Mmm…like black cherries.” He purred, pleased with his first taste. As he leaned in for another taste, Hotaru looked into his eyes.

His golden eyes.

Her mind screamed. ‘Gold! Gold! Gold!’ But she couldn’t do a thing.

As Jin deepened the kiss, the girl could only moan low in her throat as her hands, of their own volition, rested against his chest, tracing patterns in the uniform he wore. Whatever he was doing, whatever he was going to do, Hotaru knew she was powerless to stop him.

‘My eyes are green! Not gold!’ A voice screamed in her mind, sending the false euphoria scattering. With all the strength she had, Hotaru jerked away, rubbing at her swollen lips as she stared at Jin with horror and disgust.

“Something the matter? I was under the impression that you were enjoying yourself.” Jin’s tone was as mocking as his smile.

Hotaru did not answer. She just turned and ran. She had to get away from him. She had to get away from those eyes.

Jin smirked. Where Hotaru went, he would follow. -

“So tell me, Kira. What are you afraid of?” Deus Sephiroth asked softly, almost absently as he reclined on his knees near his exhausted alter ego.

“You’re the God of Nightmares. Why don’t…you tell me?” (Sephiroth) responded weakly, wheezing as he tried to find the strength to speak.

Sephiroth nodded in gentle understanding. “You’re not afraid of dying. You would welcome death, if it could be of the eternal type. To die, to sleep dreamless…never again to awaken. Yes, if those were the terms, death would be your salvation. What you are afraid of is living forever with the constant guilt of Nibelheim and the Cetra on your mind like a headman’s axe, ready for execution. You fear living without the power to forgive yourself.”

“Well, aren’t you the smart one?” Kira Sephiroth hissed sarcastically, finally dropping his head in defeat. “So, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to grant you a trial. If you survive it, you will be able to live with your guilt, because you will have endured your penance.” The god reached out almost tenderly, brushing the hair out of his alter ego’s eyes.

“The Ancients called it a trial by fire.” -

‘Zack, wake up! You have to get up and stop Jin! If you don’t, there’s no telling the damage he could do!’ Phobideum’s voice exploded in Zack’s head, jerking the ebon-haired mercenary awake. His arms and legs quivering with weakness, Zack stumbled to the rooftop, watching the scene below him.

The God of Nightmares, Sephiroth was in the middle of the street happily torching the Murderer while a golden-haired Sephiroth look-alike stalked toward a fleeing Hotaru, the rest of the Senshi spread around the ground untransformed and moaning in pain. The ebon-haired mercenary guessed that they had run afoul of the golden-maned doppelganger, presumably named Jin.

Not knowing how he was supposed to stop this new threat but determined none-the-less, Zack stepped off the roof and bent his knees as he fell, absorbing the shock of the landing.

As though aware of the presence of his new challenger, Jin stopped, leaving off his pursuit of the Senshi of Silence and facing the mercenary. Eyeing him, the golden-haired being smiled condescending, his golden irises glinting with unadulterated glee. “I normally abhor fighting someone who is obviously in such a weakened condition, but since you seem so willing to try, I believe I might just allow you to entertain me.”

Dimly, Zack heard (Sephiroth)’s final scream of pain fade away in the hiss of teleportation. The ebon-haired mercenary guessed that Silentia had finally had enough of his whining.

Looking back at the frightened Hotaru, Jin spoke, his tone thick with intent. “And don’t you go anywhere. You and I have much to discuss and I hate witnesses. Have to be somewhere… private.”

Dropping into a loose stance, the golden-haired being addressed the mercenary. “Now that that’s done, are you ready?”

Eyes rimming with disgust upon hearing Jin’s words, Zack spat. “Anytime. Just bring it.”

Jin tilted his head to the side in amusement, then nodded and vanished. The shock of his foe’s disappearance did not even have time to settle into the ebon-haired mercenary’s mind before he was sent flying back into the pavement by a tremendous roundhouse to his sternum delivered by his golden-haired enemy.

Zack tried to regain his feet, surprised at the lack of pain, only to find that he had lost all feeling and control in his limbs. Frantically craning his neck up, the mercenary confirmed his worst expectations: his arms and legs were fractured, his ribs cracked and his back broken. He couldn’t believe it. Even when the Savior’s power was not enabled, not even a malack could do that sort of damage to his body in one hit. Zack wondered in fear and uncertainty what this Jin creature was, that possessed power that could make a malack’s strength look small in comparison. Then he wondered somewhat morbidly why his neck had not snapped when all his other bones had.

Then the mercenary saw the look of superiority on Jin’s visage and, with a feeling of dread, knew his luck in survival had been no fluke.

“That all? I can’t say that I’m surprised. Not many beings have the true stature to give me a challenge, even in my weakened state. No need to feel ashamed that you couldn’t measure up. Just remember this and one day, you might be able to truly fight me: it’s not the amount of strength that makes a legendary warrior, it’s the amount of weakness.” With a small chuckle, the golden-eyed being turned back toward Hotaru.

As Zack strained and sweated, pulling at his useless body, cursing it to get up and move, he finally felt the return of pain. With the pain, Phobideum’s voice returned, a beacon of hope in his broken world. ‘I will help you Zack. Get ready because this is going to be a lot to take in at one time.’

Golden luxuriance filled his soul as flames enveloped his body, healing his bones as the brightly glowing tongues of flame caressed his body. More power than Zack had ever thought existed now flowed through his veins, granting him strength he could not fully recognize. As the flame’s orbit grew in magnitude and power around his body, the mercenary’s body began to change. His once raven-black hair became blond and his hazel eyes now shone cerulean light. Zack’s face became thinner and his features grew sharper. If he could look into a mirror, the mercenary would have thought that his old mentor had returned to life in all his glory.

Jin turned around to face the now-blond warrior as Zack stood up. A bright smile of enthusiasm now lit his face. “Fast learner! Now that is a lot more like it!”

The gold-haired being lost his grin and grunted as Zack tackled him into the side of a building. Refusing to allow his enemy time to regroup, the shining warrior delivered a massive double-handed blow to his opponent’s stomach, causing Jin to double up. Then the golden-eyed creature recovered as though he were never touched, straightening up and clipping Zack’s temple with a right hook.

Zack staggered back, attempting to regain his balance and not particularly succeeding. As Jin approached him to deliver even more damage, it became obvious that the glowing warrior was playing possum. Zack’s left foot swung out in a wide arc, attempting to trip Jin. The golden-eyed warrior easily countered this by jumping over the leg sweep, but found that he had merely fallen into Zack’s real trap. The raven-haired mercenary rose along with him, driving his right knee into Jin’s chest like a glowing sledgehammer. This time the blow had a serious effect, driving the golden-eyed being back, deep into the side of the building.

Zack grasped hold of the lapels of Sephiroth’s trenchcoat before rearing back and tossing Jin into the base of the building. The golden-eyed warrior barely had time to stand up before Zack landed and proceeded to pummel him into submission with the enhanced golden power granted to him by Phobideum. A left jab to the head, a knee to the stomach, a jagged uppercut to the head… Jin couldn’t keep pace, couldn’t defend himself from the furious beating. The gold-haired being knew he could not win…this round. ‘Best to bow out before matters became serious.’ The creature thought, perfectly serious.

Jin’s head rocked back one final time before he finally, slowly, opened his eyes. The metallic gold color abruptly vanished from Sephiroth’s eyes and hair and all traces of his previous manner had disappeared. A thin tendril of blood ran from the silver-haired general’s lips and also flowed freely from a rupture along his forehead.

His eyes, glazed from pain, both physical and emotional, slowly acknowledged Zack. “Why...” He murmured weakly before slumping back against the building, unconscious.

Zack wondered what the rest of the question was. -

Three hours after the battle, Zack was still sitting in the same spot; still looking at the spot where (Sephiroth)’s body had disappeared. The golden power had faded and his features had returned to normal. He was waiting for someone.

The ebon-haired mercenary did not have much longer to wait. Even as he watched, a disturbance formed in midair, spilling into the ground like flowing water. It assumed the vague shape and size of a human being before beginning to solidify. Zack watched impassively as the person became manifest upon this world. ‘It’s one of the few ways that she can move in this reality.’ He thought.

The woman was wrapped in a white woolen cloak of fine make. The attached cowl was lowered, allowing the ebon-haired mercenary to view her face. He needed only one glance to confirm her identity, as though her particular travel methods had not given it away, and afterwards he turned his head from her, refusing to look at her.

“I was quite surprised. I didn’t think that your Sephiroth could be such a heroic pansy. The God of Nightmares outfits him with a voice that could demolish the entire cosmos and all that rears its head is poor little Jinkun.” Silentia said, a faint trace of mockery evident in her voice.

“And how is your Sephiroth doing? The last I saw of him, he was merrily roasting like a New Year’s turkey. Did you manage to get him out before he was completely charbroiled or were you your usual bitch self and let him burn away to nothing?” Zack inquired offhandedly, as though uninterested in the answers to his questions, which he was since he already knew the answer. Silentia wouldn’t kill the Murderer until her plans were accomplished.

The demon clucked, waving her finger in a vaguely disapproving fashion. “Still haven’t learned not to curse in front of a proper lady, have you, Altraice?” Looking out of the corner of his eye, Zack could see that Silentia’s smile was cruelly ironic.

The ebon-haired mercenary snorted. “Most ‘proper ladies’ don’t send soulless slaves to attack me. Don’t know why. But that’s just the trend nowadays. Common decency, bah. Who needs that?” His manner became more and more sarcastic as he talked, until at the end, when his very skin seemed to radiate scorn and his words were nearly incomprehensible for the disdain they carried.

The demon smiled condescendingly. “The thanks I get. Not only providing you with interesting “companionship”, but also letting you see your old mentor again. Oh well. For right now, I’ve got to go. Got errands to run. We will see just how well you perform the next time we meet, Altraice. If you do well, I may not kill you. Till then, may you fare as befits your true stature.” She cackled and disappeared in a similar fashion as to how she had arrived.

For a moment, the ebon-haired mercenary stood silent, making sure that the demon had really left.

Zack then spat and muttered. “You may wear the Messiah’s face, Silentia, but she wore it better.” Damnit, Phobideum, why won’t you answer me? You were there before. I know it! I felt your presence! I heard your voice! So why are you leaving me alone with this mess? His hands shone with a thin layer of golden power for a moment.

Then they turned black and refused to move. -

Phobideum knelt in the void, grasping desperately at his throat, trying vainly to stop the crimson fluid from escaping his body. He couldn’t stop it: the blood just slipped through his fingers from the gaping slash mark of his death wound. The backlash of the Savior’s energy has torn his throat open again.

‘I expended too much energy, too soon, and against the most inappropriate target. If I can’t close this wound up again, I’ll just die again and I don’t have another sixty thousand years to reassemble my body. I know you told me not to use the artifact in conjunction with my true form, Omniscient, but this is the void. Nothing around to get hurt.’

Phobideum grasped the jade porcelain statue, extravagantly detailed in the form of a dragon’s likeness, wings backswept and head majestically raised, allowing his entire strength to flow through him once more, his human form losing shape and drifting towards his true form. Channeling his might through the artifact, Phobideum directed the force of his magic towards his neck, healing the wound quickly and painlessly. The guardian sighed in relief. Close call.

Then a back-surge of ebon energy erupted from the dragon statue and flooded into him, leaving him prone and unconscious. -

Jin waved his hands in front of the One-Winged Angel’s face. No reaction. ‘Kaigan must have been very confident that we’d never get loose. This guy doesn’t have any kind of way to sense that I’m here and he’s supposed to be one of Kaigan’s strongest fighters. Hmph. He’s getting careless in his old age. Too much responsibility rests on his shoulders and his Components are far too worn from lack of rest. He refuses to leave the work that he has accepted as his life’s bond; even to gain the strength of rest that he needs to sustain such an endeavor. I guess even such as we have flaws.’

The golden-haired being walked a fair distance away from the employee of his associate. In the distance, he spotted the very structure that he had so long ago helped create: the Chamber of Mind’s Deception. ‘Not the least among our flaws is the tendency to trap our siblings in their noncorporeal forms. Well over a million millennia has passed since I was ripped away from it. Too long have I been without its comforting presence…’

Jin walked as he let his thoughts wander, his thoughts becoming more and more disjointed as his feet dragged his unheeding body to the entrance to the Chamber. ‘Not here, yet here. The potential. Yes, yes. The potential. But who? The being known as Sephiroth? No. Yes? Darkness… Torment… Agony… Loss… Anguish… Silence…YES. YES. YES. That is it. The madness potential among the great knights. Of course. Not alone though. Stronger alone, stronger together. Together alone. Yes, yes. The breakdown compiles faster and faster! That’s it! Not alone though. Not alone. Not together. Not apart. Not for one. Not for all. Altogether one, though, the chance is great. It’s a chance, but I like the odds. I always was a gambler.’

The being broke the cast adamantium doors of the Chamber with a swift jab, sending them flying free of their casings and sliding for dozens of meters further. ‘Silentia, I’ve always thought you a fool. Now’s your chance to prove me wrong. You won’t get a better chance than this, so don’t blow your one chance at revenge with your gullibility. And when this is over, when I have my crystal back and I again have my true power, I’ll finally show my brother that the tenth time is my charm as I break the final shackles that hold me. You will know my vengeance, “Omniscient”.’

With these thoughts, the being known to the Senshi as Jin strode further into the deepest recesses of the Chamber of Mind’s Deception, intent on the room that contained three of the greatest demons that ever lived; the room that the One-Winged Angel referred to with a shudder of fear as the Heart of Eternal Darkness.

He thought two words as his form was consumed by the darkness there. “Black cherries…” -

“I’d love to know what you are doing in my lab.” The crimson-haired scientist stated, her shrill voice surprisingly cold and low. “Especially since you’ve been there for the last three hours.”

“Seven actually, but I’m glad you finally noticed.” Silentia said, her green eyes dancing in maniacal glee. “I’ve come to offer you a business proposition, Ms. Hakubi.” The demoness extended her hand, showing the contents of it to the childlike genius: it was a small vial filled with blood. “Interested?”

Examining the container critically for a moment, Washu finally responded. “What did you have in mind?”

At that moment, the smiles on the two females’ faces were nearly identical. -

A long time after the god had left his planet, a voice disrupted the dead world.

HMM. THIS WAS MOST UNEXPECTED. HE WAS MUCH FASTER THAN I THOUGHT HE WOULD BE. JINKUN COULD BE TROUBLE IF LEFT UNCHECKED, BUT THE ONLY WAY TO ASSURE HIS NON-INTERFERENCE WOULD BE TO KILL HIS HOST, THE WARRIOR SEPHIROTH. AT THIS POINT IN THE GAME, THAT IS THE MOST UNACCEPTABLE ALTERNATIVE. THEREFORE, I SHALL LEAVE HIS CONTAINMENT TO MY AGENTS ON THE INFINITE PLANES OF LIMITED EXISTENCE. IF HE EMERGES AGAIN, THOSE THREE SHOULD BE ABLE TO QUICKLY SEAL HIM BACK IN THE ABYSS. WITH JINKUN OUT OF THE PICTURE, I BELIEVE THAT DESTINY WILL SOON TRIUMPH OVER FATE.

There was a pause. Another voice responded sarcastically.

“Aw, shit. We may yet be screwed.”

There was another pause. Yet another voice, this one a little more wizened, a little more experienced, responded.

“Regrettable, But It Can Hardly Be Avoided. Fate Is A Far More Fickle, Far More Demanding Mistress Than Destiny. Eluding It’s Grasp May Require A Bit More Effort.”

Nothing could be heard for a long stretch of time. The planet sparkled pure white for the briefest of moments, then cracked, burst into flames, and dissolved.

The first voice resumed.

WHAT DID I JUST SAY?

-

A/N: Washu Hakubi is the only Tenchi Muyo! character I’m going to be borrowing and I don’t own her. I hope you don’t think that I’m spreading the story around too much, but that’s the way I originally designed it, so there’s nothing really I can do about it without destroying my plotline since she’ll be one of the more important characters when it comes to understanding the prophecies that Jin spoke to Deus Sephiroth about in the first part of this chapter, especially the Demon Masters of Salute Unto Farewell and the Seraphim of Black Fire.

Next chapter should be pretty good as Hotaru confronts Sephiroth about what Jin said and, like-it-or-not, he may yet have to face harsh reality. Meanwhile, as Zack heals from the battle, Setsuna finds she has a stalker… and just what exactly will be the outcome when Kira Sephiroth meets the “eccentric” (I’m trying to be kind.) scientist, Washu? Tune in next time and find out.

Chapter 9 - A Day to Rest: The Murderer’s Salvation