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Summary
Sephiroth’s hands slide under his shirt, up his chest. “You were quite something, Strife, when you took my blade.” His fingers unerringly find the spot where his masamune had pierced Cloud’s chest, years ago.
Hojo’s tanks made sure there was no scar, but there’s a phantom ache that never goes away and Sephiroth is ghoul enough to know exactly where it is.
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Cloud confronts Sephiroth on the eve of the final battle, alone. It's not a very good idea.
