There's so many hypothetical truths that Cloud Strife worried over, braced for, so many scenarios he played out in his mind knowing only hints and indications that something was horribly wrong from the others.
None of them could have prepared him for this particular truth. Or how sickeningly, perfectly well it slots in to the timeline of his fragmented memories. Or how much more horrifying it all becomes knowing Hojo did what he did to his own son. That fucking bastard. It's easily clear just what Sephiroth thinks of him, and Cloud is stunned at the man's ability to sink even lower than impossibly low.
"I- you-" Cloud feels his mind recoiling and fraying around the edges as vague, suppressed memories bubble up. Cold, cold, it's so cold, he's on a table, doesn't know where he is or what is happening, all he knows is the agony and pain and a figure standing above him with some manner of surgical tool, a needle, and a stomach-turning grin. It hurts. It hurts. Cloud staggers backwards with a hand up to his forehead, like he's been physically stricken. His eyes go wide, mouth twisting into a painful, shocked grimace as he doubles over.
Then another scene comes into focus. The entire world around him is silent, tinged with blue-green. He's floating, trapped, losing himself over and over again, every last ounce of fight and fortitude in his mind succumbing to the mako poisoning and something far more sinister. There's another thing he knows he's forgetting. Something or someone he so desperately tries to hold onto in those last, flickering moments.
Sephiroth didn't just suddenly go mad- it was Jenova, finally able to exert it's will, so eerily much like it did to Cloud himself in Gongaga. Jenova, who is in them both. Sephiroth is not just deeply woven into his life's path, but a part of him. He is drawn to the silver, in ways that finally have an explanation. It's horrible. It hurts.
He is likely more susceptible. It isn't permanent. Goals to move forward. Cloud hears the words Sephiroth says, and will remember them- but as it is now all he can do is fall to his knees, both hands now gripping desperately at his hair beneath his horns. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but the only sound he makes is one of choked pain.
This too shall pass- as all Cloud has and will one day endure does- but right now, the burden of truth is absolutely crushing. Even just part of it.
Cw for human experimentation, medical trauma imagery
None of them could have prepared him for this particular truth. Or how sickeningly, perfectly well it slots in to the timeline of his fragmented memories. Or how much more horrifying it all becomes knowing Hojo did what he did to his own son. That fucking bastard. It's easily clear just what Sephiroth thinks of him, and Cloud is stunned at the man's ability to sink even lower than impossibly low.
"I- you-" Cloud feels his mind recoiling and fraying around the edges as vague, suppressed memories bubble up. Cold, cold, it's so cold, he's on a table, doesn't know where he is or what is happening, all he knows is the agony and pain and a figure standing above him with some manner of surgical tool, a needle, and a stomach-turning grin. It hurts. It hurts. Cloud staggers backwards with a hand up to his forehead, like he's been physically stricken. His eyes go wide, mouth twisting into a painful, shocked grimace as he doubles over.
Then another scene comes into focus. The entire world around him is silent, tinged with blue-green. He's floating, trapped, losing himself over and over again, every last ounce of fight and fortitude in his mind succumbing to the mako poisoning and something far more sinister. There's another thing he knows he's forgetting. Something or someone he so desperately tries to hold onto in those last, flickering moments.
Sephiroth didn't just suddenly go mad- it was Jenova, finally able to exert it's will, so eerily much like it did to Cloud himself in Gongaga. Jenova, who is in them both. Sephiroth is not just deeply woven into his life's path, but a part of him. He is drawn to the silver, in ways that finally have an explanation. It's horrible. It hurts.
He is likely more susceptible. It isn't permanent. Goals to move forward. Cloud hears the words Sephiroth says, and will remember them- but as it is now all he can do is fall to his knees, both hands now gripping desperately at his hair beneath his horns. Tears sting at the corners of his eyes, but the only sound he makes is one of choked pain.
This too shall pass- as all Cloud has and will one day endure does- but right now, the burden of truth is absolutely crushing. Even just part of it.