Chapter Text
Sephiroth fell.
Searing hot pain traversed through his body as if his nerves were lit on fire, feeling the burning of incandescent light engulf his very being.. He couldn’t breathe, short gasps escaped his lips as he desperately tried to.
His body, thrown into the life stream without any mere preamble words of animosity nor regrets—not even the much deserved gestures of ire usually directed towards his presence was apparent in his vision as he fell to his death.
Sephiroth's descent into the abyss was marked by unbearable agony, as if his very soul were set aflame.
And after minutes, or perhaps hours has passed in constant agony — Finally… Finally, Sephiroth was greeted by the hollow relief of nothingness.
***
Even through death, it seems Sephiroth was a SOLDIER through and through—the training engraved in his very being was not lost in his new consciousness, as he felt the intense prickle of multiple eyes roaming all throughout his body.. eyes that felt familiar and eerie—it was almost as if he was back in Shinra lab with that detestable man…
The oddity of that feeling struck him bewildered, he was supposed to be a dead and unfeeling body ever since his ‘death’.
So what was it that disturbed my eternal slumber? Sephiroth wondered, the awful taste of trepidation seeping through him at the thought that perhaps, through his bad karma, Hojo had once again found him even in his resting place.
A displeased look glossed his otherwise calm and serene face, though his awful thoughts soon came to a stop as he heard a meek voice speaking.
“A-Agnus, are you sure this is a wise idea?” Someone stuttered through in front of him, their voice was muffled through the translucent material (or rather.. a barrier), separating Sephiroth from the scantily white cladded figures observing him, prodding at his being with curiosity and the redundant tinge of fear that followed through their observation.
It was only then that Sephiroth has realized he was in some sort of tank, the slosh of water flowing through his hair and hands were a tell tale sign of what type of situation he’s found himself in, though he couldn’t exactly pinpoint as to why he’s in this situation to begin with.
‘..where am I?’
A few seconds ticked by before he heard a muffled scoff and an even more ear grating voice speaking.
“Quiet you, this is t-t-the closest I have come to harboring a fraction of Sparda’s power!” The man answered—glee imminent in his voice and Sephiroth could almost imagine the sheer audacious look of insanity he was offering at Sephiroth’s current predicament.
Minutes have passed before he heard a distressed voice behind the barrier — constant clinks and a loud contraption coming undone registered in his mind, the machinery before him was getting tampered with — Sephiroth, alarmed at the sudden shifts, then realized what the man was trying to do.
Choosing to brace himself before the inevitable occurred,
Sephiroth felt nothing, and then everything all at once. His eyes clenched shut and his mouth opened to intake some air as the water inside his tank was drained— his hands, flailing a little at his side trying to find something stable to hold onto and eventually leaning onto the glass barrier around his containment.
Sephiroth’s eyes fluttered open, his blurry vision gradually adjusted to the almost fluorescent-like lights that blared through his eyelids, the mere buzzing hum of it being the only thing he can hear in this weird, now devoid-of-water compartment that he’s found himself in.
‘What.. is this?’
He experimentally tried to clench his fingers into a tight ball, a look of weariness plastered on his face as he felt the slight pitter patter of his own pulse thundering against his skin. His body was thrumming with life despite its apparent state of death.
“Brilliant! So the subject is awake!” A voice interrupted his thoughts, Sephiroth then finds himself looking at the one who’s the cause of his current predicament.
His piercing gaze never left the man in white, fixated on his figure, observing his every move with caution and curiosity—in turn, the man seemed to regard him with an eerie smile.
As he proceeded to steady himself against the glass, he glanced at the man before him with an unbridled look of suspicion tainting his features.
“Who are you?” His voice, to his surprise, came out hoarse and brittle, yet despite all that, it sounded several octaves higher than it normally should—making him halt momentarily, confusion evident on his face at the new development.
With his hands reaching up, cautiously touching his throat for a mere moment then proceeding to look at his hands in awe.
His hands that were calloused and roughed out from wielding Masamune was significantly smaller, they were still marred out with marks yet the size of it was definitely wrong.
So either his delirious mind was playing games or he truly has gone insane.. well, more insane than he already was beforehand.
He managed to focus his vision enough to look at his reflection on the glass barrier awhile he unclenched his hand slowly.
Sephiroth blinked, almost dumbfounded once again at the sight.
his gaze met that of a child’s
No. Not a child.
He never was considered as one.
But it truly was him yet his body seems… younger?
Sephiroth pondered the implications of his being, his new appearance begged inconspicuous unanswered questions to be revealed yet one thought was apparent in his mind.
Being thrown into the lifestream must have taken a toll in his body, enough for him to be reborn a new.
“Hm, it looks like you’re fully capable of human speech, Brilliant!” The nerve of this man to ignore his question as he exclaimed in pure, almost manic glee at Sephiroth’s figure.
Irked at the initial failed attempt to prod for answers, Sephiroth almost clicked his tongue in annoyance.
He could already tell that this man was a headache to be with.
Sephiroth levels him with an unyielding stare this time, “Who are you?” He repeats, sounding more like a demand for answers rather than a question.
He doesn’t particularly like the thought of the unknown, and if he were to go by what he has been observing ever since he awoke from his slumber.
Sephiroth would dare say he’s come face-to-face with another variant of Hojo, though this time, a little less intimidating, and more like a thorn on his side.
Either way, the man before him was more likely to irritate his already dampened mood.
And that very statement was soon proved correct as the man ignored him again.
Choosing to muse by himself rather than entertain Sephiroth’s question was a mistake. If it were up to him, he would have already lunged at the man before him—What else is there to lose over a small amount of bloodshed anyway?
Yet as seconds ticked by, Sephiroth dared not to move from his containment, he still managed to stop himself with a little semblance of self restraint.
Of course, he’s not barbaric enough to follow through such an act, not without making use of the man before him first.. he does need information after all.
It would be in his best interest to not form any enemies if he was such in a weakened state too, Sephiroth was wise enough to know such.
And as distasteful as that thought sounds, he couldn’t deny the apparent evidence of experimentation being done on his current younger body.
Regardless, Sephiroth almost sneers in annoyance at the thought.
Was that it? Was this man the cause of his mortal body looking closer to that of an infant’s?
Though despite his initial newly acquired youth, true to his heritage, Sephiroth’s height was definitely a head taller than most his age. Not to mention, the silver strands of his usually well kept white hair that was now obscuring a little of his vision—his appearance was extraordinary, and his strength, even more-so.
It was truly enough to enamor the attention of humans and other beings alike, Sephiroth thought bitterly at that.
A few seconds ticked by before his musings to himself were interrupted by, lo and behold—the irritating man in white himself.
“Lucis! Tell me. Is the subject stable enough to go out of his containment?” The man asks the other.
With a trembling look, the person beside him replied, almost frightened at the glare Sephiroth was mustering behind the barrier, “w-well.. the subject is stable but it would be wise to keep it contained—“
He yelped, startled, as the man in white shoved him aside to peer closer at the glass containment.
Sephiroth’s unyielding stare would be beyond creepy to any other individual, yet despite that, the man before him addressed his presence with an intrigued and curious look. Not an ounce of insouciance found in his eyes as he peered closer. The intensity of his gaze can dare rival that of an insane man’s.
Can rival that of Hojo’s.
Sephiroth desperately pushed that thought aside. His situation was already unpleasant enough, the reminiscent troubles of his past won’t do him any favors in this situation (or so what he reasoned to himself).
“Hmph, interesting, you’re capable of human speech and you understand me j-j-just as clearly it seems.”
“…”
Taking Sephiroth’s silence as a cue to speak again, the man walks closer till he’s face-to-face with him.
“I am Agnus! A man of science such as myself seeks to understand the very power that courses through y-your veins,” He pauses momentarily as he gripped the doors of the containment, ignoring the alarmed sound of protests that came from his fellow scientist-alike as he abruptly slid the door open.
Cool air hit Sephiroth’s skin, prompting him to resist a shiver at the sensation.
The man, Agnus, stared at him, “well go on, what are y-y-you waiting for?” He gestures outside the tank with a tilt of his head, ushering him in an impatient manner.
Sephiroth wasted no time to get out of the suffocating compartment, he swiftly escaped, his fingers clutching the hinges of the door as he was stepping out, the purpose behind his release begged questioning, yet the deafening ring in his ears and the throbbing headache dominated his immediate concerns.
He must have been in that glass compartment for a long time, the prolonged containment became evident as Sephiroth felt the parched dryness of his throat, accompanied by the undeniable hunger gnawing at his stomach.
The entire ordeal left him pondering the duration of his confinement, alas, he was given no time to mull over his thoughts as he was as suddenly grabbed by the shoulders.
A pair of rough hands clamped down on him, the man tightened his grip on his deathly pale skin—already reddening by the mere pressure. Sephiroth’s heart nearly lurched in his throat at the sensation.
It was horrible because it was not unfamiliar to him.
The peril escalated as Sephiroth's gaze fixated on a sharp object poised above his arm.
A needle.
He refused the panic momentarily seizing his throat at the familiar prick of the needle about to pierce his skin, he recoiled, and in an instant, he lunged at the man beside him with uncanny accuracy—his hands found its way to the individual’s throat, seizing him by the neck with a brutal force.
An animalistic growl resonated from his chest as the rest of the equipment crashed to the floor at his outburst, shattering some of it and causing chaos at his surroundings.
Nevertheless, the man remained fixated, gazing at him with an undeniable fascination.
Why? he thought
“Y-your eyes.. How curious!”
Sephiroth’s movements came to a halt, he glanced distractedly at the puddle of liquid now flowing beneath the soles of his feet and the man beneath him used that as leverage to get away from his now loosened grip.
Sephiroth found himself entranced by the reflection before him, unable to avert his gaze. A sense of disbelief crept over him as he stood agape, captivated by the ember glow emanating from his eyes.
The familiar green hue, a testament to the Mako's influence, had vanished, leaving behind irises now steeped in a blood-like color.
The transformation struck him as both mesmerizing and unsettling. The crimson tint in his eyes seemed to pulse with an otherworldly intensity, resonating with an energy that defied the accustomed glow of Mako. Every detail in his reflection was an intricate revelation of change, as if the very essence of his being had undergone a profound shift.
Sephiroth's mind raced with questions, grappling with the implications of this sudden anonymity forced upon his being.
Dread coiled at his gut at the his initial thoughts.
What arcane forces had wrought this alteration upon him? The once-familiar green glow, symbolic of his SOLDIER induced body, had given way to a more enigmatic, almost eerie radiance.
It was as if the blood coursing through his veins had taken on a spectral essence, casting an ominous red glow upon the canvas of his irises.
And as he continued to gaze upon his transformed eyes, a sense of foreboding intertwined within him. The ember glow spoke of an untold power, a deviation from the norm that hinted at a deeper, more mysterious realm.
Sephiroth, ever the warrior, couldn't help but feel a surge of both trepidation and contempt at the prospect of unraveling the secrets concealed within this newfound gaze.
This new change could only mean one thing, to his dismay. It seems that despite his body being born a new, uncanny in anyway imaginable, the very depths of his soul knows what he is—and what he is.. is truly not human.
Even when his very appearance resembles that of humanity, Sephiroth’s will forever remain a monster, Jenova was etched into his very being, no matter what form he takes.
Sephiroth took a few deep breaths as revelation after revelation prodded at his mind.. and regrettably, the distraction, coupled with his fatigue and throbbing headache, led Sephiroth to lower his guard, providing Agnus the opening to finally stab the needle into his arm.
Sephiroth recoiled as if scorched.
With swift precision he snatches the needle from his arm as the inky tendrils of black spots wove a disorienting tapestry across his vision.
The peculiar liquid, injected into his veins with a calculated cruelty, manifested its effects with a relentless immediacy.
Agnus seemed to watch him with fascination and that irked Sephiroth even more. With a turn of his head, he glares at the man.
“What did you..!” He exclaimed, breath stopping into a short gasp as pain throbbed into his head.
It was as if an unseen force had unleashed a torrent within him, eroding away at the clarity of his sight, leaving behind the murky residue of impending darkness.
The black spots danced and swirled, an ominous ballet that obscured the once sharp contours of his surroundings, causing him to kneel unexpectedly on the ground.
Such form of weakness was usually beyond him but his new body was already far weakened before this whole debacle.
Sephiroth's eyes, once vibrant and alert, now bore witness to the encroaching obscurity. Every blink was a hesitant negotiation with the encircling shadows, the world around him slipping away in fragments.
As the darkened tendrils advanced, a peculiar drowsiness, a weighty lethargy, began to infiltrate his every fiber.
He managed to muster a weak glare towards Agnus, and with everything his small body could account for, he gripped the syringe with new found intensity in his movements.
Pouncing at the man with the intention to bring harm upon him, unfortunately, he was a second too late to notice that his efforts were in vain, he soon finds himself being held down by a new pair of hands. Powerless to the unwanted restraints forced upon him.
Sephiroth heaved an enraged sigh, it was an insidious invasion, as if the very essence of his being succumbed to the hypnotic lull induced by the mysterious substance coursing through his veins.
His movements became sluggish and his struggles soon came to a stop, the encroaching numbness that threatened to engulf his senses made his eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment, his figure carrying the weight of weariness.
“Keep him down,” He heard Agnus say, though it was becoming harder and harder to hear things coherently due to his drowsiness
As the black spots expanded within his vision, the last vestiges of wakefulness yielded to the intoxicating pull of a dreamless sleep, leaving Sephiroth suspended in the liminal space between consciousness and the abyss of oblivion.
Eventually, his futile attempts of remaining awake came to an end.
Exhaustion overcame his body, his vision succumbed to darkness, finally lulling his mind into a deep slumber.