Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
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year 5, quarter 3
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Sephiroth raised his hand, and for a moment, Genesis was already poised to laugh. But at the last second, he lowered his hand and turned away, a faint smirk on his lips.
Seriously? Genesis scowled at the man’s back, giving him a petulant look as he crossed his arms. “Unless I caught something from that beautiful man in Sonora, I assure you that I’m not crawling with any diseases,” he said with a roll of his eyes. Unless you counted Jenova of course, but he wasn’t about to get into that with Sephiroth again. He hadn’t taken it so well the first time.
However, Sephiroth’s comment that they should go back to where he had been staying with Zack made Genesis forget his irritation in a way almost nothing else could have. “You expect me to live with Zack?” He asked in outrage, wondering if knocking over another shelf would make him feel better. “You must really not like the town he’s in.”
Pursing his lips, Genesis weighed his options. If he threw enough of a fit, Sephiroth was sure to side with him to avoid it becoming an issue, but he didn’t really want to spoil their reunion so soon. And he did have to admit—reluctantly—that Zack could be useful. It never hurt to have a hero around as fodder. He doubted Zack would be on board with razing Shinra, but that wouldn’t be an issue until they returned to Midgar anyway.
“Fine, fine!” He waved his arms in irritation. “But I reserve the right to knock him unconscious and leave him by an apple tree! In the full sunlight! In a leather coat!”
Marching after Sephiroth, Genesis paused slightly when Sephiroth said that he was glad to have him back. He made it sound almost like an afterthought, and Genesis might have been offended if he wasn’t so used to Sephiroth's unbelievable lack of tact.
“Hmph. If anything, I have you back,” he said after a moment. “Welcome back from the dead. And I guess I’m glad about that too. I guess.”
Shooting Sephiroth a small smile, he moved forward into the hallway after his friend. Suddenly the world of Zephon looked ten times brighter to him.
What did Angeal have to do with it? Genesis wasn’t sure how to go about answering that. He had nothing and everything to do with it. Just like he had nothing to do with their lives now but still somehow maintained a solid, disapproving presence. Perhaps Genesis had just never known how to let the man go.
Sephiroth seemed both relieved and deadly focused after Genesis unfurled his matching wing. Genesis supposed he could understand that. He’d felt the same relief the first time that he’d seen Angeal’s double white wings, but also the same visceral disgust at Shinra for touching his friend. He’d never wanted Angeal or Sephiroth to feel like monsters, but at the same time, he would—reluctantly—admit that he might be a tiny bit selfish on occasion. And even monsters didn’t want to be alone.
Sephiroth seemed perplexed about when this could have happened to him, and Genesis grimaced slightly as he went silent and seemed to put the pieces together. Sephiroth had always been good at that. “If you remember, it was my shoulder that was hit,” he muttered in confirmation. “The wound healed shortly after the last time they let you visit me. But only after I’d sprouted a wing.”
“They threw you away.”
Genesis paused for a moment, considering the fury in Sephiroth’s eyes, and his lips parted slightly in surprise as it occurred to him that he was a large part of that anger. Sephiroth was this angry at Shinra…for him?
“Sephiroth…” Genesis started, but then he paused, unsure of how to continue. For once, he had nothing in response to being slapped in the face with Sephiroth’s empathy. No sarcasm. No poetry. No dramatics. Without them, he felt strangely vulnerable, and like he was meeting Sephiroth for the first time again. Even weirder was the realization that he didn’t necessarily hate it.
“Angeal is dead. They don’t deserve honor.”
Genesis recoiled back slightly, staring at Sephiroth to see if he was serious before a loud laugh escaped him. “My soul, corrupted by vengeance, hath endured torment to find the end of the journey in my own salivation and your eternal slumber,” he said with a grin, feeling the fire return to his eyes. He knew how to deal with the desire for revenge far better than being confronted with the fact that Sephiroth might care.
“They never deserved honor. Even Angeal could see it. There was a time when he joined me in my quest to burn them to the ground before he got cold feet about what that took,” he said with a scowl before glancing up into Sephiroth’s glowing green eyes. They were currently set into a cold expression that Genesis found that he liked when it was directed towards Shinra.
“And you, Sephiroth?” He asked, feeling like a demon luring his friend back into the flames. How poetic. He could get used to that role. “My feelings haven’t changed in four years. But what do you want?”
It was so similar to that moment in the reactor when he had whispered the truth about what they were to Sephiroth. Only his friend had rejected him then. Feeling a last moment of vindictiveness, Genesis was unable to resist extending a hand to Sephiroth like he had held out the apple to him on that day four years ago. “My friend, your desire is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess,” he said with a flash of a smile, repeating the words that he had then. Hopefully they were better received today.
As they left the temple together, Genesis couldn’t help but side-eye Sephiroth with every step. After so long spent resenting and then mourning the loss of his friends, it was odd to find himself walking side by side with Sephiroth again. He half expected Angeal to fall into step on his other side at any moment. Unfortunately that one remained a fantasy.
“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,” he mused as he looked over at Sephiroth. Funny that it only took years of separation and adversity to finally push them together. It felt like they were more in solidarity with each other than they’d ever been now that they were both against Shinra, and Genesis had to admit that he could get used to that. Even he didn’t want to admit to Sephiroth how pleased he was to have his friend back. But the silver-haired man probably knew him well enough to interpret his Loveless quote anyway.
“Shall we?” Unfurling his wing, he offered Sephiroth a hand with a slightly bitter smile. “Just if you need assistance. I assume flying is new to you.” Pushing off the ground, he meant to take to the air and follow Sephiroth’s lead back to where he was staying, but the sight of people shambling through the streets stopped him, and he ended up lighting on a nearby roof instead.
“Zombies,” he muttered, folding his wing to his back. He'd nearly forgotten in the excitement of finding Sephiroth, but now a look of disbelief returned to his face. “My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains.” Lamenting his fate, he whirled on Sephiroth a bit accusingly. “Do you know anything about this? Or is it a coincidence that I find a long-dead friend within an army of the undead?.” Ugh. Just saying that out loud made it sound like they were actors trapped in a trope-ridden, cheesy play.
Rolling his eyes, Genesis turned to consider the streets below them, frowning slightly as it looked like a group of them were converging on a tiny figure clutching a box. Was that a child? What was a kid doing in this city alone? Shouldn’t he have evacuated with everyone else?
“Please tell me we’re not getting involved,” Genesis muttered to Sephiroth. He just wanted to leave. He was tired. And hungry. And emotional. Surely his needs mattered more than some kid who was too stupid to survive a zombie apocalypse, but his thoughts ended in a swear when the small figure fled down a nearby alley. He swore he could hear the boy sniffling from here.
“Fine, fine! But you go play the hero and fly him up here.” he said with a scowl as he casually launched a fire spell into the shambling crowd below to slow them down. “I HATE children.”
Sephiroth confirmed that it must have been a cover-up and that Hojo must have dragged him away after the Nibelheim incident. Genesis scowled, his fingers curling at his sides as he wondered why he’d never considered the possibility before. Sephiroth had been declared dead at the same time as Zack and that blond cadet, after all. And they had both turned up alive and intact four years later (or at least relatively intact in the case of the blond boy). Why hadn’t it ever occurred to him that they might have just done the same thing to Sephiroth?
Genesis felt some kind of emotion churning around his stomach, and it took him a moment to realize it was guilt. Ugh. He didn’t want to feel that way. Like maybe he should have looked for Sephiroth. How was he to know the man wasn’t really dead? It certainly wasn’t his fault. As for the complete meltdown that Sephiroth had suffered, that certainly hadn’t been his fault either.
“They changed me.”
Genesis frowned slightly, eyeing Sephiroth closely. The man looked more vulnerable than Genesis had ever seen him, and he blinked slowly at the hesitation on his face. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. How was he supposed to stay mad at Sephiroth if the man went and made devastating facial expressions like that? It wasn’t fair. His normal impassive expression was so easy to hate.
Something shifted at Sephiroth’s right shoulder, and Genesis glanced at the dark feathers creeping over his shoulder pauldron before his lips partied slightly in surprise. Sephiroth had a wing. He couldn’t extend it very far in between the shelves of books, but the dark shadow hovering over his shoulder was unmistakable and painfully familiar. A short laugh escaped Genesis’ lips as he stared at the man across from him. It was like looking into a mirror. The same black feathers. The same panicked vulnerability that he remembered from the early days after his accident before his rage at Shinra had set in. It was like looking at himself from four years ago. But if Sephiroth had no memories, then Sephiroth was doing what he had refused to do. He was trusting him with his secret when he had no idea how Genesis would react.
“You don’t remember why I ran off?” Genesis’ throat was dry. He didn’t like how it made his voice sound. “Then let me remind you.” He hadn’t tucked his wing back into the slit in his coat, so it was easy to unfurl it. A few stray black feathers fell around them as his wingtips lightly brushed against Sephiroth’s.
“We match. ” He gave his friend a slightly bitter smile. “Angeal had white wings. But out of all of us, he was worried that he was the one who was the monster. As if he’d ever approach our level.”
Talking about Angeal made his stomach ache again, so Genesis laughed without humor as he rubbed the side of his head. “My friend, the fates are cruel. There are no dreams, no honor remains.”
Genesis shot Kuja a look of disbelief from where he was sprawled back on the bed. There was not a single flicker of surprise on the man’s face. No hidden unease or fake understanding. Just irritation at having to wait. He looked like a man who’d been derailed and hated every second of it.
Genesis felt a bubble of hysterical laughter build up in his chest. Kuja really didn’t care? Was having a wing more par for the course in Zephon? If so, then he’d certainly done Bartz wrong the other night when he’d yelled at him for being too good of a person. Genesis still didn’t think he was out of line (he was never in the wrong), but he might have misunderstood why Bartz had been so casual about the whole situation. This made two for two encounters where people didn’t care, after all. It must have been more a product of the world itself than of anything to do with Bartz. Kuja certainly didn’t seem the type to hide his feelings if he’d wanted to kick Genesis out at any rate.
“I don’t know how it is where you came from, but we warred against two nations of sentient rats, the harold of our kingdom was an oversized penguin, and I have a tail.”
Genesis wasn’t able to contain his laughter anymore. He felt like he should question something in those statements, but it was so ridiculous that he had no idea were to start. The penguin Harold maybe?
“You have a tail?” He settled on, his eyes flickering to the man’s legs. He hadn’t noticed anything so far, which was actually impressive considering that the man was only wearing a half-skirt. Even if Kuja had somehow managed to hide it in his scant clothing, Genesis would have thought that his skirt would have twitched on occasion. Kuja must have strapped his tail down to all hell, which actually made Genesis feel a bit better about freaking out on him. Did that mean that Kuja went to huge lengths to hide his tail? Why would he do that if it was as normal as he claimed?
Before he could ask about it, Kuja had a hand on his shoulder and was pushing him back more firmly against the bed as the man crawled over him. Fingers curled into his hair and tugged his head slightly to the side so that Kuja could speak directly in his ear. Genesis had nearly fallen out of the mood between his self-consciousness and laughter, but the warm breath on his ear combined with the cloth and leather dragging over his skin from Kuja’s clothing reminded him why he was here.
He had one last moment of hesitation as he looked up into Kuja’s eyes. The man’s silver hair draped around them like a curtain, and Genesis had the sense that he was diving in with someone he didn’t fully understand. But the gleam in the man’s eyes and the playful smirk on his lips promised him that he’d enjoy the descent.
“Wings of light and dark spread afar, she guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting,” he murmured before leaning up to press him to a kiss.
Sephiroth seemed to recoil a bit at his words. He laughed shortly and pressed one hand to his temple as Genesis stared at him, waiting for him to explain. He had no reason to react so strongly. All Genesis had done was point out how long it had been since the accident that had driven him from Shinra.
“They did something to me. My memory’s incomplete. A symptom of mako poisoning.”
Genesis took a step back, eyeing Sephiroth with something between frustration and disbelief. “You don’t remember what happened?” he finally ventured. It seemed unbelievable, but the green eyes looking back at him weren’t the cold gaze he remembered from the mako reactor before Sephiroth had struck the apple from his hand. It was the patient, long-suffering stare of the man who’d always tried to put up with his antics. The man that he’d sworn to surpass one day (though that felt like something he’d cared about in another life at this point). The man who had been one of his closest friends.
Genesis felt a little tongue-tied, which rarely happened to him. He never had a problem finding something to say, so his own vulnerability made him annoyed even before Sephiroth mentioned Zack.
“Zack’s here?” He asked a tad bitterly. It didn’t surprise him as much as it should have. The last people that he remembered seeing were him and that comatose blond cadet after all. At this point, he wasn’t sure if he’d prefer to shake Zack’s hand or to punch him in the face the next time he saw him. Zack had nearly killed him, but he couldn’t deny that he owed the boy something for refusing to strike the final blow and for reminding him of what his friends would have wanted.
“He told me Angeal’s dead." The words struck him out of his thoughts like ice water jolting down his spine. Even after four years, the blunt reminder that he’d never see his best friend again made his chest burn. Whoever said that grief got easier over time was a goddess-damned liar.
“Suicide,” he muttered. For once, he had nothing else to say. What else was there to say? That Angeal had been that disgusted with himself? That he had decided that he’d rather die than be the same type of monster as Genesis? That for all his talk of honor, it hadn’t mattered in the end when he’d forced Zack to kill him? Those weren’t the actions of an honorable man. For the only time in his life, Angeal had chosen the selfish path. And Genesis had nothing else to say about it. He could recite Loveless a thousand times, but nothing would come close to expressing how much it still stung.
“Whatever I did to you, it was a mistake.” Genesis froze, staring at Sephiroth in disbelief at his admission.
“Don’t tell me the great General Sephiroth is apologizing. Surely he can do no wrong,” he tried, but the insult sounded weak even to his ears. Sephiroth faced him then, straight-backed and steady, and Genesis was reminded of the first time he’d seen the man on the battlefield. Sephiroth was discipline and grace personified. He truly was a sight to behold.
“I want to stand with you now.”
Had the world swallowed up everything around them, or did the heartbeat pounding in his ears just make it seem like it had? “My soul, corrupted by vengeance-” he tried, but the quote died in his throat. He couldn’t finish.
Letting out a hiss of air between his teeth, he swung his fist at the nearest bookshelf. The wooden frame toppled over and collapsed into a mass of dust and broken wood on top of the row of desks next to it. A lamp flickered dangerously in the rubble, but Genesis found that he didn’t care if it caught fire. Let it burn. Let the entire world burn.
A few loose pages swirled through the air around them as Genesis turned accusingly back towards Sephiroth.
“You were dead! They said you were dead!” His voice cracked mid-word like he was a teenager again. “You told me to rot! You took a page from my book and burned down a town! And I never saw you again.” He stared at Sephiroth, feeling the unreality of the situation weighing on him the more he looked at the silver-haired man. Conflicting thoughts raged at each other in his mind. I missed you. I hate you. I missed you. I hate you. Genesis clenched his fists at his sides.
“How are you alive?” His voice sounded small and tense, and he hated it. “Did they lie? Have you been in a tube in Hojo’s basement for four years?” He wouldn’t put it past Hojo, especially when Zack had also vanished during that time. But he hadn’t thought that Shinra would take the same risk with Sephiroth. Genesis had seen the flames consuming Nibelheim from a distance. They were high enough and had spread with a speed that only Sephiroth could have managed. He hadn’t seen a town burn like that since Wutai.
“You say you want to stand with me. But you both left me to do it alone.”
Kuja seemed to misunderstand what he was getting at, and Genesis let out a huff of exasperation. He was always so clear, and yet no one ever seemed to catch on for some reason. He barely would have been disappointed if not for the fact that Kuja had been doing so well with Loveless so far. He had seemed to understand his musings more than most people ever had, outside of maybe his Study Group fanclub or Angeal.
Angeal had always understood what he was trying to say. But Angeal was the last thing he wanted to think about while in someone else’s hotel room.
“I assure you that whatever it is, I hardly care.”
Kuja sounded impatient, and Genesis supposed that he couldn’t blame him. He was definitely slowing their encounter down, but he couldn’t help a muttered “I somehow doubt that,” as Kuja drifted closer to him.
A hand touched at the front of his sweater, and Genesis glanced at the manicured, purple fingertips before his eyes drifted up to the man in front of him. Kuja really was breath-taking, even aside from his smooth voice and the vivid images and poetry that he could spin from it. His hair fell in long waves down either side of his face, and Genesis felt ensnared in a cloud of purple and silver as he looked up at him. He was still sitting in front of Kuja, which put him around eye-level with the man’s curves and full hips. And as Kuja smirked down at him, Genesis knew that he’d lost whatever this game had been. He’d found the most beautiful bird of prey possible and had gone willingly to its talons.
“When the war of the beasts brings about the world’s end, the goddess descends from the sky,” he cursed, before grabbing the wrist that was touching his chest. “Wing,” he groaned, the word coming out tense and unwilling. “I have a wing.”
The admission made him want to act childish in retaliation, so he flopped backwards on the bed with his hands behind his head. Glancing up at the man standing over him, he tried to make his expression challenging, but he felt it flicker with uncertainty anyway as he waited for Kuja’s reaction. He wasn’t sure that he could handle being thrown out when he was so drunk and strung out.
Out of line? Genesis recoiled a bit, suddenly feeling like an unruly cadet being told to stand down by a superior. He bristled at the implication and wanted to yell at Sephiroth for acting like they were still in Soldier after everything that had happened.
“Don’t pretend that you’re still my commander,” he said, turning his head to the side with an angry flip of his hair. He was prepared to take it further, but Sephiroth suddenly took a short breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Frowning, Genesis eyed him closely until he opened his eyes and continued with a much softer tone.
At hearing Angeal’s name spoken for the first time since his arrival, Genesis felt his fingers curl into fists, and he had to resist the urge to throw more books around the aisle. How was Sephiroth able to just drop that so casually? Didn’t it bother him at all?
“Broke his sword?” Genesis finally found his voice as Sephiroth finished, feeling a bit outraged by the implication. “However little you might think of me, I’d hardly dare do such a thing. His protege took it over for him. And as little as I like seeing it in someone else’s hands, he’s certainly inherited his spirit.” Not wanting to think about Zack or the buster sword right now, Genesis crossed his arms with a scowl until he noticed that Sephiroth had stopped to grip the side of his head.
Genesis blinked at him slowly. “Sephiroth?” It reminded him of the last time that they’d met. Of Sephiroth gripping his head and letting out something soft that was almost but not quite a sob as he’d stared up at Jenova’s name above the reactor door. Of his cool green eyes swirling with something hateful as he’d struck the apple out of Genesis’ hand and told him that he could rot.
Bitter anger swooped through Genesis’ stomach. He supposed that he’d never really gotten over that day either. He wanted to yell at him for it, but something about Sephiroth’s softer words had been bothering him since he’d spoken them.
“We waited for you. After your accident." Genesis hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking to Sephiroth’s in a moment of comprehension.
“My accident.” He said in a deadpan voice before staring at him in disbelief. “Wait. You meant that tiny sword he used to carry?” The one that had caused him so much pain and had caused his wing to sprout from his shoulder. Genesis had almost forgotten that something so benign had changed everything. It had hardly mattered after a while.
“The wandering soul knows no rest,” Genesis said in frustration. “What do you mean that you haven’t seen me since then? That was over four years ago!”
Kuja trailed a finger down the back of his gloved hand and gave him a flirtatious smile before backing off.
“I have never found pleasure without triumph.”
Genesis laughed under his breath, feeling his lips twitch into a faint smirk as Kuja handed him back his coat that had fallen into the snow during their kiss.
“I’ll be sure to give you a challenge then,” he murmured, patting down his coat to remove the powdered snow before he pulled it back on over his shoulders. Now that he’d moved away from Kuja, the cold felt biting on his bare skin again.
Kuja seemed to fix whatever magic he'd had in place to control his exposure to the elements (What sort of materia allowed for that? He’d have to ask him later), and then they set off down the street towards the hotel. It was a brief walk, but Genesis had to resist from chattering his teeth by the time they spilled into the warmth of the hotel lobby. By that point, the warmth from the wine was starting to wear off, and Genesis was grateful that if all went well, he wouldn’t have to venture outside again until the morning. Sonora was such a dismal hell-hole. He’d need to move on soon.
Kuja seemed mesmerized by the elevator and Genesis blinked at him before laughing softly. “I suppose you’re right that they're quite the invention. Though elevators are something Zephon and my world had in common. Would you believe I used to work on the 49th floor?” Though the entire Soldier floor could burn along with the rest of Shinra headquarters if he had his way. But he thought it best not to say that loud after how much he’d derailed their earlier conversation at the lounge. Talk of revenge was probably better to put aside for now.
Genesis followed Kuja into his hotel room and took a moment to appreciate its furnishings. Once upon a time, he would have considered it a fairly average room, but his standards had been significantly lowered after four years of cave dwelling. Still, Kuja seemed to feel he had to apologize for its lack of grand upholstery, and Genesis shook his head as he went on about his current modes of work.
“You’re doing far better than I am,” he admitted. “I haven’t been here for very long. Maybe a month at most.” Genesis took the moment to walk further into the room towards the wide window along one wall. Despite the earlier cold, he was starting to feel overly warm, so he took the opportunity to remove his leather gloves with his teeth before tossing them onto a nearby table.
The view out the window was more spectacular than he would have expected out of Sonora. The city lights spread out below them and glistened against the backdrop of darkness. They almost looked like the stars that the light pollution blocked them from seeing.
“Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess,” he marveled. “I suppose anywhere can look appealing when it’s from a distance.” Turning to face Kuja, he gave him a low smile as he said that something more alluring had caught his eye.
“Is that so?” he murmured, deciding that it had definitely gotten too warm in here. Sliding his coat down his arms, he draped it over the back of a chair, though the sight of a black feather clinging to the fabric soured his intended performance. How could he have forgotten what had ruined his chances with Bartz the other day?
“Kuja?” He asked, taking a few steps towards the man and taking a seat on the foot of the bed. “I suppose there’s something I should bring up before this goes any further.” He hesitated, debating just pulling off his sweater, but that had somehow ended with him screaming at Bartz. Maybe it was better to just tell him instead?
“Wings of light and dark spread afar. Wings stripped away, the end is nigh,” he blended different acts of Loveless together to explain his situation before carefully meeting Kuja’s eyes. He was on bated breath for what he'd think.
There was something pained in Sephiroth’s face before he was able to school his expression into his usual cool, unblinking stare. Genesis thought that he understood. The nauseous feeling in his stomach throbbed the longer that he looked Sephiroth over. Everything was the same. The same flowing silver hair that was never out of place unless Genesis had stolen his conditioner. The same unnerving green cat’s eyes that always narrowed in annoyance whenever Genesis had pulled him away from his work for too long. The same black leather coat that was a blatant disregard for the Soldier First Class uniform. The same visible pectoral and ab muscles that Genesis would sometimes whistle at when he wanted to annoy him. It was like nothing had changed. Like Sephiroth hadn’t aged at all.
Clearly whatever was caught in Genesis’ throat was just a product of the musty air in the library.
“You never come unless you want something.”
Genesis recoiled a bit, staring at him In disbelief. “That’s the first thing you want to say to me?” Rage pricked at him, and he suddenly wanted to throw something into Sephiroth’s perfectly chiseled, smug face. He wanted to scream at him about the four years that he’d spent slowly rotting away alone in the caves of Banora. About the weeks that he’d spent aimlessly wandering Zephon. That he was trying to improve damn it, and he’d done it without him or Angeal there because they’d left him and gone to the lifestream. But none of that was ever as satisfying as a good Loveless quote.
“Legend shall speak of sacrifice at world’s end!” He yelled instead, but that didn’t feel like enough. Stepping forward, he swept the book that Sephiroth had been reading off the shelf, and he was sure to make eye contact with him the entire time as it hit the ground. Now that felt a little better. That would show him. Crossing his arms, Genesis paced a few steps away as he seethed. Finally, he whirled around and looked at Sephiroth accusingly.
“Like I’d ever come to you for help again!” he said scornfully. “I’m healed now. Thanks for asking. No thanks to you.” Would it be overkill to knock over a shelf onto Sephiroth? That might be overkill. Genesis waved his arms dramatically instead as he tried to reign in the urge.
“But apparently your stupid grudge over that day is more important than your trip to the lifestream, so I guess that’s what we’re talking about now!"
Clearly the burning in his eyes was just a product of the musty air in the library too. Stupid library. Stupid temple. Stupid Sephiroth. Maybe he’d burn it all down on the way out. What did it matter?
“Wings stripped away, the end is nigh,” he muttered more to himself than to Sephiroth.
