Sephiroth has never seen you before: a nameless scientist, one who’s always faded into the background enough that he doesn’t even recognize you by name even though he thought he knew everyone in Hojo’s R&D department. He doesn’t know why you’re here or what you hope to gain by speaking to him like this. Like you know him. Like you see right through him.

“That—None of that is true,” Sephiroth says coolly after you boldly proclaim that the words he had been told for so long were all lies. “My mother was named Jenova. But even more so, this should be of no concern to you.” He doesn’t even know you, yet the resolute look in your eyes unnerves him. It feels like you’re telling the truth, but he fears what will become of him if he chooses to believe you. Sephiroth angles his sword at your throat, so close that if you dare breathe, it will surely scrape your skin. “Who are you, really?”