Sephiroth didn’t know this world and he longed for that which he knew. In that unknown grew fear and in that fear grew hatred until he saw a familiar face across from him.
“Where are we, Cloud?”
Cloud’s response was not of words though, it was of speed and steel. Both combatant’s massive blades embraced each other in the music of war. Strike after strike Sephiroth met until eventually he parried his opponent’s blow to the side leaving Cloud’s hand empty.
“We are not where we should be, Cloud. Don’t you feel it? This is not our destiny.”
The mystical language of magic responded from Cloud’s lips engulfing Sephiroth in fire. It was not Sephiroth’s body that burned though, but his mind. Fire became a bitter cold. The cold became a lightning force. Sephiroth felt his body slow as his opponent sped up. His sword flailed, but his opponent easily rolled under the blow retrieving his own blade in the process. Sephiroth didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand it. How?
“Where does it come from?”
“Within, Sephiroth. It comes from within.”
Metal met flesh with no attempt from Sephiroth to guard against it and in death, Sephiroth’s soul searched for an answer, but did not find one.