Chapter Text
Aerith’s footsteps thud dully against the stone temple walls. Her breath rags out in sharp vapor clouds against the chilled air. She sobs out, clutching at her burning chest.
Where is he? Where is he?
Looking around wildly, she trips over a stone jutting from the floor and stumbles forward. A yelp escapes her throat, and she stops to bend over, gripping her kneecaps to brace herself as she catches her breath. A clinking sound bounces across the floor like a lost marble, and her heart sinks. She scrambles to her knees, her hands frantically brushing over the cracks, but she cannot see it. The eternal flames dimly flickering on the wall sconces hardly light the dark halls.
Shit! Way to go Aerith.
Sweat beads along her hairline as she doubles down her efforts. She crawls down the hall in blind pursuit. When her fingers skim the smooth surface of a bead, she almost cries out in relief. Her hands shake as she collects the white materia and cradles it in her palm. It glows a luminescent, pearl white, swirling in the glass like smokey tendrils.
She squeezes it in her hand, pressing it to her chest in a balled fist.
Moving at a leisurely pace, he still closes in on her. No amount of portals she opens and steps through will put enough distance between them – but really – she cannot run forever. She merely stalls until she must face him at long last. He has the upper hand, but if she does everything precisely, she will have him at a stalemate. For now, at least.
She oversaw the possibilities in alternate universes, but none of them end well. She considered handing over the white materia to Cloud before she pushed him into the portal, but no matter what, it will not erase the needless losses they already suffered. This may be her best option. Her only option. If it’s too late to change the future, change the past.
If she can pull this off, she will win and no one will ever know but her.
Her memories stir in the glass, coiling hot in her hand, and she knows it is ready to burst. So close to the black materia, so close to Sephiroth. ‘Not yet,’ she whispers to the burning orb. She pulls herself off the floor and continues her sprint towards the alter.
‘How much longer do you think you can run from me?’
Goosebumps crawl up her arms as his voice sinks into her like teeth. She looks around, scanning the empty halls, but knows that his communication is telepathic. He speaks through the invisible conduit between them that always made him feel just beyond her reach. Fear curls in her lower abdomen. Don’t listen. Block him out. Her heart pounds painfully in her throat as she presses on towards the altar.
‘Give me the white materia if you want to survive this. Only you are worthy of keeping alive. Killing you would be a waste, but I will if you resist me.’
‘Piss off!’ she screams back in her mind.
He laughs humorlessly, the sound of it hollow and inhuman. ‘I can’t wait to wear your skin,’ he says before departing from her mental space.
She shivers at the loss of her other half – the one she always knew she would meet at the end of her time. Even before he was completely possessed and gone to this world, she felt him walking the same line to the same end, parallel to her. She feels him more strongly now than ever before, all his attention on her. Except he is no longer him. There is nothing left of him beyond that false image.
So, who was she really feeling all those years?
She shakes her head, pushing the thoughts away because it doesn’t matter. Not at this point when one wrong move results in the end of everything.
Forever in lockstep with each other, they enter the altar room at the same time – she shoves herself through the door as he manifests in a swirl of dark matter. She stops cold, gripping the handle with trembling fingers, her confidence faltering in the face of the immense power pouring out of him. They regard each other, her knees threatening to buckle beneath his dark, empty gaze. She knew one day she would have to face him alone without the support of her friends, but she was not ready to be absolutely choked by this terror.
He turns to face her fully, patiently waiting on the top platform, blocking the very spot where she saw herself kneeling in deep prayer in every universe – the spot where she would be met with a blade every Gods-forsaken time. But this time will be different. It may be the greatest display of brilliance of her life or the biggest mistake she ever made. High rewards carry high risks.
Spellbound by the invisible tendrils of his aura, his influence equally alluring as it is terrifying, she walks towards him. His eyes follow her down the aisle, and she feels much like a blood sacrifice of the universe. When she mounts the steps to stand before him, he reaches out to her, placing a deceptively gentle hand against the base of her throat, his fingers curling against her skin but not squeezing. She stands in place, her muscles helplessly frozen, and she second-guesses all her decisions leading up to now.
He leans over, the silky strands of his hair falling heavily across her shoulder as he whispers in her ear - ‘I’m disappointed. You’re making this too easy for me.’
She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to block out the dizzying effects of his proximity, understanding that it is the nature of Jenova’s influence – to manipulate in every way it can. Still, her body cannot assimilate what her mind can. She is breathless and burning, the feverish heat pulsing through her awareness. Unable to think beyond this creeping, incessant need, her body goes numb to its desire. His mouth moves closer to hers, and she cannot tear her eyes away from his lips.
“Give me the white materia,” he says again, stroking her throat with his thumb.
Her body seems to move on its own. She slowly raises her trembling arms to her hair and releases the knot of her pink ribbon. It drifts to the floor in a small heap, and the white materia falls into her palm. She closes her fingers around it, still somehow coherent enough to resist handing it over instantly.
“Take your time,” he says. His eyes never leave her face as he masters her movements without so much as a single twitch.
She takes her time, alright. The small part of her that still knows its business rears back, and the rest of her follows. Her body screams in frustration when she forces herself to look away. She turns her chin to the side and shuts her eyes, but he does not break the spell. Instead, she feels time freeze around them, and she knows he has halted it.
The air drops by thirty degrees and all that can be heard in the echoing silence is the sound of their breathing. Her body still tries to bargain with her, aching for more of him – for all of him. She squeezes the white materia harder to ground herself.
“What are you doing to me?” She manages between grit teeth.
He raises his free hand to cover her own hand which clutches the white materia. “These are your own actions.”
A panic sets in as she feels her fingers loosen beneath his. In the pit of desperation, she shuts off her mind to the present and tunnels her consciousness to a distant place in the past. Focus Aerith.
She tries to visualize herself there – a place in this same timeline before the point of no return was reached. An image forms on her mind, and fuzzy as it is, she focuses on it. She does not know what year she will be thrust back in but can only hope it is far enough to make a difference. She concentrates on the details of the image taking shape in her mind –
Time to go all in. No turning back after.
She squeezes the white materia orb as hard as she can, infusing it with magic – and crushes it in her grip. The broken glass shards slice through her skin, and ribbons of blood pour out of her closed fist. She winces from the sharp pain, tearing her eyes open. It is this that finally breaks the spell he has over her.
A look of surprise followed by anger crosses his face, and they are the first human emotions she has seen him express.
But it’s too late and he knows it. The white matter, now freed from its cage, swirls around her like an angry tornado.
“It doesn’t matter if you use the black materia now. I’m just going to reverse it all in the past,” she says.
“That was foolish for you,” he says but he looks irritated still. “You cannot change fate. The Arbiters of Fate will be there to correct it, and now you’ve destroyed your only means of turning the tide in your favor.”
“That’s what you think,” she says, getting the last word in before whisking away through the lifestream. “See you on the other side!” She blows him a kiss before vanishing completely.