[In a future for Sephiroth that has not yet come to pass, the truth had been suffocating, and the days that followed sequestered in isolation allowed it to burrow deep into the recesses of thought. There, in that manor’s library, he had filled his head with misguided research, what was left of the truth he knew beginning to fall away. A mind left grasping for a place in the world newly lost, and finally seeing only one solution — to finally reconcile his differences with humanity not as other, but as superior.
The hint of such festering deterioration teases the edges of his emotions, his thinking torn away from the now-reality of Cloud standing before him. But they are both fortunate, now, in two things: what Jenova might be is still unclear, with no proof before them, and the purported ex-SOLDIER jolting him away from this ruminating path.
An explosion of connection. Cells that sing and vibrate between them. The faint, pulsing flow of gems embedded in skin. That hard grip around his arm.
Look at me.
He concedes, eyes clouded in the wake of incomplete uncertainty, pupils sharpening back into focus. He says nothing.]
no subject
The hint of such festering deterioration teases the edges of his emotions, his thinking torn away from the now-reality of Cloud standing before him. But they are both fortunate, now, in two things: what Jenova might be is still unclear, with no proof before them, and the purported ex-SOLDIER jolting him away from this ruminating path.
An explosion of connection. Cells that sing and vibrate between them. The faint, pulsing flow of gems embedded in skin. That hard grip around his arm.
Look at me.
He concedes, eyes clouded in the wake of incomplete uncertainty, pupils sharpening back into focus. He says nothing.]