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One Winged Angel

"I will never be a memory"

The Great Sephiroth
9 December 1989
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Enigmatic would be a more positive way of describing how Sephiroth appears, for he has made himself seem virtually untouchable. Such trivial things as worry, sadness, and to a lesser extent, even joy, rarely manage to present themselves as anything more than a fleeting ideal of humanity, and why would he want or need those?

An acutely intelligent, sharp-minded individual, Sephiroth is one who keeps himself generally private – even when around others, he maintains this sense of self-imposed isolation, rarely finding pleasure in the company of others. An exception to this is revealed when showcasing his cruelty, his sadism, and he will take some intangible delight in it then, when breaking people apart piece by piece. He takes an equal interest in fighting, generally treating it with the same casual amusement. Almost always, Sephiroth appears to be the pinnacle of composure, of frozen disdain, a figure cruelly carved from marble.

Conversely, beneath this calm is an insanity that even Sephiroth can not control – it is not something he even comprehends, let alone understands. Ironically, to those who look upon him, spend any amount of time with him, it is utterly obvious – Sephiroth remains oddly oblivious, whether due to simply blocking such an idea or genuinely failing to see it.

Sephiroth is a man of finely tuned contradictions, likely the reason for his madness. Cold logic and intellect works in tune to an obsessive, all-consuming anger. Cool grace and refined dignity are witnessed the most clearly when his sadism is cruelly tearing someone to pieces.

To Sephiroth, the balance maintained is a perfect one. Of course, it would be. A god must be all-encompassing.

His mother was Jenova.

It was one of the few facts he knew as a child, an experiment cultivated by Shinra to be the finest SOLDIER ever to grace the Planet. He was unstoppable, undefeatable, and entirely unrivalled. He remained an enigma to the public, to those around him – even to himself. He was secluded, keeping himself isolated. Or had he been kept isolated?

It was not something he spent time considering, though he lived his life with the unshakeable sensation that something was fundamentally different. Essentially wrong.

Sephiroth was deemed a hero. A trivial enough mission took him to Nibelheim, and suddenly, too much was falling into place all at once. Everything was as he had expected to be, everything excluding a bone deep ache, a throb that threatened to tear his nerves apart. The feeling worsened as he moved closer to the reactor, coupled with something that Sephiroth would have imagined akin to the idea of journeying home.

It was Sephiroth who discovered the monsters hidden within the reactor, of course, following the threads of some private joke. They had been human once, now distorted into something grotesque and gruesome – the long dormant doubts Sephiroth had once been plagued with arose, and he found himself questioning his own humanity.

Sephiroth took to the Shinra Mansion, locking himself away in the basement where the scientific records were kept – it was here he discovered the Jenova project, and Sephiroth was a man bred in science and logic; coincidence was not something he bothered considering. Upon finding that Jenova had been labelled as an Ancient, one of the Cetra, everything suddenly made sense.

Sephiroth wasn’t human. He was a Cetra. Just like his mother.

Concluding that he had been formed by Gast using Jenova’s cells, Sephiroth was, for the first time in his life, stricken. Nibelheim was razed with fire all around him, and he moved as a wraith as he returned to the reactor, and uncovered there the remains of the Calamity, Jenova.

The mountain girl fell easily. The First Class SOLDIER fell with a nauseating lack of effort. It only served to drive in his inhumanity. And then the glass before him chipped, and the sword was through him, and faced that strange surprise once more to find a grunt wielding it. But his mother’s cells wove together, pulsed within him, and he reached up, removing her hallowed head and taking it with him from the room – he was, finally, whole. Reunited.

The boy could not be a match for him, of course he could not, and Sephiroth ran him through with the Masamune. Somehow, the boy managed to lower himself back onto the walkway, and Sephiroth was forced back, forced to realise this was not something he had expected to encounter.

His mothers instructions ran clear through his head, and he knew her to be right. How could she not be?

Sephiroth threw himself from the walkway, into the Mako below, and in doing so became part of the Lifestream. Jenova, his beloved mother, by his side.

He was declared MIA, presumed dead. The Shinra’s most prominent SOLDIER, the revered fighter, the hero, disappeared from the face of the earth.

In the Lifestream, he absorbed the knowledge and power of the Ancients, the Cetra he believed himself to be a part of. With this power, he knew he was capable of reclaiming the land, and becoming a god – that he would rule with his mother at his side. The Northern Crater, where the Lifestream was stronger against the earth. He was frozen in the Mako, and through his mother’s cells spread across the world, was able to control them, to bend them to his will.

He returned in a haze of violence to claim what was his and what was his Mother’s, and using the Black Materia summoned Meteor. His mother took on his form, becoming a tool for him to use, just as he was hers. Using her cells, he brought all he needed to him, but in the end, it destroyed him, and the Holy Materia stopped the approaching apocalypse. He was returned to the Lifestream, and one relic alone was left in the way of Jenova and her firstborn son. Her head.

And he lived on within her.

It was through this that the Remnants of his will and power were capable of channelling his form at their Mother’s will. Sephiroth walked again, his mother granting him another chance. Her last chance. This time, he would not disappoint her. He would not lose, so he was convinced, so he deserved. But, once more, he was defeated, and when he awoke, it was not in the Lifestream, it was not in her arms, but in a world of storms and decay.
- Without the use of materia, Sephiroth can summon his blade the Masamune, or disappear and reappear at will over short distances.
- He has the power to communicate with anyone bearing Jenova’s cells telepathically, and has the strength of mind to project images of himself before the eyes of another, putting his words into their minds at will – making control that little bit easier.
- He can infect others with Geostigma by transferring his cells to them, generally through bodily fluids.
- His already proficient materia usage is all the more formidable; his spells cast more powerful than many.
- He is capable of defying gravity; even to the extent of flying for short periods of time, or being suspended in the air.
- Physically, Sephiroth is virtually unbeatable. He has incredible speed and power, is able to move fast without sacrificing any of his strength, and the Masamune grants him a huge range. Tactically, this is supported by his years as a SOLDIER general, which have given him a level of experience untouchable by many his age.
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