"I-I never wanted this..." What? You snapped your head towards the direction of the voice. In the midst of the chaos, you could still sense the tremor of faltering conviction and profound indecision.

You herded another cohort of innocent people to their evacuation with the flickering hope of salvation and redemption for what you had just perpetrated in the name of war and the honour of SOLDIER.

"SOLDIER!" you shouted to the boy general, dashing to his side. The hard soles of heavy boots thudded ominously against the squelching mud of the rain-soaked ground.

The rain ceased; it was even more ominous now in the absence of the pattering sound which had silenced the screeching buzz in ears.

"I-I never wanted this," the boy sputtered. His dilated pupils told you that he wasn't there with you. He was somewhere else entirely—perhaps somewhere delusional and horrifying: Hell, whose mouth was gaping greedily for his sins and the cruelty he had just committed without knowing the consequences he would bring.

Slap! Your palm stung the cheek of the youth as you coldly muttered, "Sephiroth." Your cold voice brought the boy back to his even colder reality. "Stop being delusional. Are you feeling guilty for what you've done? Then, help us evacuate the innocent!"

Sephiroth nodded numbly, his left cheek red and swollen from the impact he hadn't known he had desperately needed until it had actually caught him off guard.

His feet staggered, at a loss of purpose and direction. Aimless, clueless, and empty, Sephiroth tried to assist his much older, much more experienced subordinate, who was shouting to the people, encouraging them to move forward to the safe refuge out of the danger of the battlefield.

With your hands clasped in fervor, you silently prayed to perform the powerful magic. The warm glow from the Cure materia surrounded the adjacent area and offered momentary warmth to the people in it. Sephiroth watched silently, reverently. In the fleeting respite, he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree, sighing.