Sephiroth's Story

The air was thick; warm. Swirls of brilliant lights danced and disappeared while the unstable ground simultanously shifted in all directions. This place... Yes, this place... It held significant meaning for Sephiroth. Standing at the center of a large rock-made platform, the silver-haired warrior of Chaos momentarily closed his illuminating jade eyes. He tried to summon whatever memories this strange location inspired in him. Only a few images flickered in his mind, though, too fast to comprehend and decode. Yet, when Sephiroth mentally saw the face of a blond-haired warrior, he knew he was one step closer to his answers. While many warriors of Chaos and Light waged their petty wars on each other, Sephiroth remained focused on his lost memories. He'd taken his life in a previous cycle to determine if he was the real Sephiroth and not some pathetic, mindless manikin. With one piece of the puzzle obtained, he was now set to collect more answers. Perhaps in uncovering who he was he'd discover a way to remove himself from this sensless game of chess and create his own path; his own destiny.

Sephiroth held out his left gloved hand. It glowed briefly before a long, elegantly shaped blade appeared. Masamune. His obedient weapon, she gleamed brightly. Sephiroth finally opened his eyes and took a step forward, his long silvery hair trailing behind him. It was time to locate the mysterious blond-haired warrior. The young swordsman's blood would be Sephiroth's salvation.

Cloud...