Gongaga had been throwing him for a loop, what with the dense jungle treelines and muggy, hot atmosphere. He didn’t want to return, but Cissnei’s request to check the reactor was hard to ignore, especially given what they’d found there the first time. When his head started to throb, he expected to find vestiges of Sephiroth at the reactor again, haunting him the way only he knows how. But it wasn’t him.

Even staring at you now, with a pair massive white wings sprouting from your back, all he can see is Sephiroth. You have his eyes, his disarming smile, his blood, but you’re not him. Every step closer causes Cloud’s chest to clench tighter and tighter like a string about to snap. Yet, even so, he couldn’t stop inching towards you. “You,” he grunts, “weren’t here earlier.” The reactor smells like an overabundance of mako poisoning now, filling up his lungs with its acrid stench. Cloud’s arms tremble as he raises his sword.