PSL; WHAT YOU GONNA DO WHEN IT ALL FALLS DOWN?

[supersoldier]

just face it.

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[supersoldier]

[Aerith’s church and her garden of flowers afford them both lucidity. Cloud is free from his static and his headaches, and Sephiroth knows the slow-drip of the past is flowing into each little groove of his mind. Some of it feels like the memory of another lifetime ago, the humanity that he discarded so readily in the churn of the Lifestream. He doesn’t want it, he doesn’t need it, but in this place, he has no choice.

And so his eyes turn towards Cloud, away from the light, with a little more consideration than before.]

What do you think those visions represent?

[Answers his question with his own.]

[coraza]

[finally, cloud turns his head to look sephiroth, weighing his words, and their eyes meet. a connection that—no matter the distance—will always be there. like the churning bellows of a cello just underneath the surface, reminding him of the steady threat; of the expectant apparition of the man's presence everywhere he goes.]

[it dawns on him, like a slow realization, that he cannot escape.]

A future that hasn't happened yet.

[he puts these thoughts together, but he isn't sure how it works, or if he believes it himself.]

...or one that has, but not for me. [a pause, as he turns to face sephiroth properly.] For you?

[supersoldier]

[His eyes brighten with approval, cat-like and sharp.]

Yes. For me.

[Masamune's blade whispers against sunlit yellow petals, walking forward two steps closer to Cloud.]

But do not forget what I told you.

[That which lies ahead does not yet exist.]

Those visions are but ghosts of your... failures that have not yet come to pass. Your inability to protect those you care about. That one, perhaps, the most egregious of all.

[coraza]

[cloud digs his heels in, obstinate, watching as sephiroth approaches him and offers, for once, answers. perhaps he's finally asking the right questions. no matter, cloud feels a resurgence of something cold and angry brewing inside him. his failures. these are things he hasn't experienced yet though he seems to resent the fact that sephiroth is calling him out for not being able to protect those he cares about.]

[of protecting — aerith?]

[a light breeze ruffles the flowers, making them sway gently to the side. the earth beneath their feet sinks slowly, fills with water, as the whole church pushes and groans under the weight of change; of perches and pillars succumbing to the different years, the different states of its being. but the water keeps filtering in, creating a pool, slowly swallowing up their boots in it.]

[cloud's eyes remains on sephiroth.]

So what do you want from me?

[change fate, he had said. together.]

[supersoldier]

[The water rushes in at all angles, it bleeds up from the ground and drowns the flowers, it submerges his boots and wets the tips of his wing’s feathers.

He’s unmoving in the rush, the motion rippling all around him, teasing at the bottom of his length of hair. Sephiroth cants his head at Cloud, meeting his obstinance with more answers — though perhaps they are not satisfactory to him in this moment.

The old church groans and aches with time.]

I want you to work with me. To lend me your strength, as I told you once before.

[And as before, a gloved hand extends, palm-up. Fingers uncurling in Cloud’s direction, and the feathers of his single wing flares.]

Won’t you do that for your precious Planet? Our Planet? Or are you still too afraid?

[coraza]

I'm not afraid.

[he is, but not to the extent sephiroth is giving him credit for. cloud worries that whatever he accedes to do will only be like signing a deal with the devil. there is not enough for him to come up with a decision that feels satisfactory to him, and it just feels like a ton of weight on his shoulders, suddenly.]

[the anxiety that keeps gnawing at him over unknowns.]

What's the catch?

[the water surrounding sephiroth grows murky, a darkness teeming from him and pulsing forward, reaching for cloud. the sky that can be seen from the hole on the roof of the church grows darker, like a storm is brewing.]