[As always, he is a stranger in a strange land. The horizon ever stretches forward, filled with ruins, environments, creatures he never thought he would see. The namazu are particularly strange and cartoonish, and Sephiroth simply does not know what to think of them.
Perhaps more poignantly, however, there is something off about the structures looming about them, crumbled and despairing into the river. The ghost of battle lives in this place; that he can see, read it as clearly as printed word on a page. Even as nature works to reclaim the roads, edging into their path, he is a man of war, and the consequences are painted bright for a trained SOLDIER’s eyes.
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Perhaps more poignantly, however, there is something off about the structures looming about them, crumbled and despairing into the river. The ghost of battle lives in this place; that he can see, read it as clearly as printed word on a page. Even as nature works to reclaim the roads, edging into their path, he is a man of war, and the consequences are painted bright for a trained SOLDIER’s eyes.
He steps over a gnarled root, his step careful.]
What happened to it?