Forgotten Glory
[07.06.00] » by Dark Moogle
The man struggled up over the wreckage and looked around. He blinked. Who
am I? He wondered. He saw, all around him, the wreckage of what had once
been the great city of Midgar. He had awoken on the beach south of here, his
mind almost completely blanked. The only ties to his past were the scars on
his bare chest and the great sword he knew that he must keep. He knew,
somewhere, i the back of his mind, that he would find what he was looking
for here. He continued picking his way through the garbage and ruins until
he found what he was looking for.
Laying on it's side, covering half the city, was a huge building that had
once been the centerpiece for Midgar. It was almost unrecognizable but for
the words 'Shin-Ra' painted on it in places. The Shinra Building. The man
began working his way what would have been up until he reached, by his
count, the 70th floor. He dropped down into it and looked around. Eventually
he found a vault door hanging crookedly from it's hinges, the once
heavily-guarded contents now open to anyone who came by. He severed the
hinges with one sweep of his sword, then ducked in. It was dark, and he was
about to duck out when he stopped. A few words that he didn't recognize, and
the entire room was filled with a misty blue light. He shuffled through it
until he found a file, only slightly damaged, with his picture on it. He
knew it was what he needed.
He sat down and opened it.
---
Shinra Official file on SOLDIER number 45918
-Sephiroth >Smudged<-
---
Sephiroth? The name meant nothing to him, but he kept reading.
---
Vital Statistics.
Postion: First Rank SOLDIER
DOB: Dec. 17, 1960
DOD: June 23, 1990
POB: Nibelheim
Height: 6'1"
Weight: 175 lbs
Blood type: AB (Noted as same as SOLDIER number 67513, Cloud Strife)
Hair Type: Long, Silver
---
He checked himself out quickly. Yes, the statistics did seem to fit him.
But... Date of Death? That name... Cloud Strife... somehow, it hit a note in
him. He continued.
---
History.
Sephiroth Sm>smudged< was born on Dec. 17 1960 to Lucrecia Fredison and Hojo
S>smudgedsmudgedsmudgedsmudged---
He looked down at his sword. After examining it for a few minutes, a few,
seemingly selected, memories rushed into his mind.
---
He ducked into the cave, watching warily for any more of those Wutaians.
None seemed present, so he allowed himself a moment to relax. He slid down
against a wall and checked his wounds. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully,
but it still was impossible to use his left arm. His chest too, the slash
there would probably leave a scar. He watched outside as the rain beat down,
waiting for himself to dry off so he could explore the cave that was
apparently going to be his temporary home. He nodded off to sleep
eventually.
When he awoke, he was dry and the sky was dark. Whether it was because of
clouds or it was night, he didn't know. He gathered himself up and began
working his way deeper into the cave, looking for anything that could be
used as food. He came to a crossroads and stopped. The cave went deep,
deeper than he had first thought. He looked down both ways, trying to make a
decision.
-Sephiroth-
The voice came from nowhere, and everywhere at once. He looked around, the
sword back in his hand. "Who's there? Show yourself!"
-The left path will end in your almost certain death. The right will end in
a dead end. Going back will mark you as a coward. Choose-
He paused. Certain Death, dead end, or a coward. The coward was dead out...
so was the dead end. But certain death...? He began making his way, slowly,
sword at the ready, down the left path.
Eventually he came out in a larger cavern. It was about the size of his old
Nibelheim house... and that was big. He walked down, carefully, watching
everything. After a while, a glint of metal caught his eye at the end of the
cavern. He began working his way towards it. Eventually he found that it was
a sword. He hesitated. What was a sword doing here? He looked around,
noticing for the first time that this entire cave was illuminated by some
light source he couldn't find.
There was a flash, and he whirled back towards the sword. Standing there
were two relatively short creatures. They moved towards him a few steps,
examining him.
"I think he could be the one. Don't you, Masa?"
"He could well be, Mune."
Sephiroth pointed the sword at them, trying hard to disguise his wounds.
"Who are you?"
They looked at him, then spoke as one. "We are Masa and Mune, keepers of
the ultimate sword." They pointed to the blade, jammed into the ground. "The
Masamune."
"Ultimate sword?"
They nodded. "Yes. And it seems the fates have chosen you to wield her."
Sephiroth let his guard drop slightly as he examined them and the sword
again. They moved aside, and he was compelled to step up and look it over
closely. It was sharp, that much he could tell. He found that it was long,
but how long he couldn't tell. The two creatures watched him expectantly. He
turned to them. "What must I do?"
They smiled, showing rows of very sharp looking teeth. "We shall heal your
wounds that you poorly concealed from us, then you will fight us."
Sephiroth's sword came back up, then he let it drop to his side. "It's a
sword, even if it is this 'Ultimate sword' you speak of. So? Is it worth
risking my life for?"
Masa stepped forward slightly. "Do you wish to see what your life will be
like if you have this sword?"
Sephiroth nodded, and Masa opened his mouth. He felt as if he were falling
in, then...
He was standing on a cliff plateau, surrounded by dead Wutaians. Out across
the fields, Wutai itself was in flames, and around, all the other towns and
villiages were smashed. In his right hand was six feet of death. His view
panned around to look at his face and over his own shoulder. There, a man
was charging towards him, a nasty looking blade in his hand. He was running
straight towards Sephiroth's turned back. Then, his view changed again to
show them both from a side angle. The man continued charging until he was
abut a yard away. Then, Sephiroth whipped around and stuck the sword almost
effortlessly into the man's head. He shuddered once, then slid off. He
turned back, and the vision ended.
He blinked, looking at the two. Then Mune came forward to stand beside
Masa. "Now, see what your life will be like if you do not get this blade."
His mouth opened, and Sephiroth fell inside again...
He was in a field, surrounded by Wutai and Shinra troops and covered in
blood, most of it his own. He was surrounded by dead Wutaians, but he knew
he had probably not killed most of them. In his right hand he clutched
nervously the same sword he was using now. Men clashed with each other all
around him. Then, the same man from the earlier vision began charging at him
from the front. He brought his sword to the ready. He fended off the first
attack, sending the man's sword down into the dirt. While it was down, he
kneed the man in the head. He fell back, dazed, but with the sword in his
hand. Sephiroth moved forward and spun, attempting to remove the man's head
from his shoulders. He dodged, though, and moved around to the side.
Sephiroth struggled to move to face him, but his tired muscles wouldn't
respond quickly enough. His mind screamed danger, and suddenly, he felt the
man's sword move into his side as if it were really him. He heard himself
scream, and saw himself collapse.
He was back, and covered in sweat. The two looked at him expectantly. "What
have I got to lose? I'll do it."
The two smiled, almost evilly, then turned and walked directly into each
other. Sephiroth closed his eyes against the blinding light, and felt his
skin and muscles repairing themselves almost instantly. Strength flowed into
his body, erasing the hunger and weariness there. When he opened his eyes,
he blinked as if he were seeing things.
He was on a metallic platform, about... twenty feet square. It was
surrounded by stars and planets... as if they were floating in space. Across
the platform from him was a huge, hulking beast. It sat/stood there
expectantly, looking at him. Sephiroth readied his sword, and the two began
walking towards each other. About ten feet away from it, Sephiroth began
sprinting the rest of the distance. The beast was apparently caught off
guard as he ducked under one swinging claw, rolled to the side, and jammed
his sword into it's side much as the man had done in the vision. However, it
roared and swatted him away, sending him and his sword across the platform.
He quickly kipped up, sword at the ready. He began walking again. At about
ten feet, he began sprinting again. The beast was ready for it this time.
However, about three feet away, he jumped. He'd never remembered jumping so
high or so far, but he landed behind it. Before it could turn, he whirled
around and stuck the sword in again, this time around the small of the back
area. Before it could react, he jumped high, ripping it up the length of
it's back. It screamed, and Sephiroth found himself paralyzed. It brought
it's huge, meaty hand up and crashed into his side, sending him to the
ground. It slashed at him again before he could raise, bloodying his back.
It was his turn to scream. He leaped up, ready to tear it's arm off, but it
swiped at him again and sent him back across the platform.
He struggled up. As he watched the thing moving towards him, he finally got
his second wind. He yelled at it, causing it to pause. He ran towards it,
spinning the sword to get momentum. He jumped and brought the sword down
across it's chest. It swung at him, but he ducked and ripped the arm before
it could recover. It tried kicking at him, but he rolled beneath the beast
and knocked it's other leg out from under it. It crashed to the ground, and
he jumped up on it. Giving a triumphant yell, he jammed the sword directly
down into it's head.
There was a flash and he was back in the room. He stood there a moment,
feeling the pain and noting everywhere he was wounded for later help.
-You fought well-
He looked around for the voice again.
-Take me, and use me well, Sephiroth-
He knew, somehow, it was the sword speaking. He stepped, painfully, up the
few steps to the blade. He dropped his other sword, ignoring the sparks that
flew from the impact. He stood in front of the blade that, if the creatures
had been telling the truth, would chnge his life. He gripped the pommel with
both hands, and pulled.
And pulled.
And pulled.
When he was done, he was standing, completely healed, with six feet of
steel in his hand...
---
The memories halted, and Sephiroth looked back at the report. That was
almost a completely different person. It was in the past... over with. He
continued reading the report.
---
With Sephiroth's new skill, he le>smudgedsmudged---
Memories to that effect were coming back, yes. But, then... how was he
here?
---
In 1994, he was cloned by the genius of Hojo Smaterov. All 12 of them were
tattoed and kept under close surveilance. Eventually, the first one escaped.
The other 11 never seemed to completely match the original, and neither did
the first. However, he apparently was the closest. He
---
It was so badly smudged from here on that it was almost impossible to read.
However, at the end, there was a collection of handwritten notes by someone,
apparently not long before it landed. Blood spotted the page, and Sephiroth
could make out what was probably a body on the other side of the vault.
---
Sephiroth is, at this moment, attempting to kill us all with Meteor. It
hangs there, about a mile overhead, threatening to kill us all. He is a
madman. If he still lives and someone reads this, I implore you. Kill him!
Find him and stop him! He aspires to be no less than a god. If he were to
attain this god-like state, what's left of the world will no doubt suffer.
---
Sephiroth looked around. That was it. He was the clone of what may have
been the greatest warrior who had ever lived. Or... was he? He began
examining himself for a tattoo. He found none. He stood and crawled out of
the vault. Apparently, by some miracle, he had been resurrected. Or maybe
he'd never really died? It made no matter. This whole time, the only life
he'd seen was an occasional bird flying overhead. What would there be to
rule in this world? Nothing. Nothing at all. He began making his way away
from the wreckage that was Midgar.
"I'll search. I'll search for survivors, and rebuild the human race. That
will be my punishment. I will help repopulate the very world I sought to
destroy. Maybe I can wash some of the blood from my hands."
-Fin
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