Existential Crisis (Core)

There are precisely three places in the Shinra building where Genesis can read in peace: the emergency stairwell (excellent acoustics for dramatic recitation), the executive bathroom (outstanding lighting), and the SOLDIER break room at 3 pm (perfect couch to window ratio for optimal reading conditions).

Today, he's claimed his usual spot on the weathered leather couch, armed with a cup of tea that cost more than a cadet's monthly salary, with his annotated copy of Loveless (collector's edition, gilt-edged, with margin space specifically designed for his enlightened commentary) and the intention to have a peaceful afternoon.

And there, sprawled across the other end is Sephiroth. Dead to the world, one arm thrown over his face, legs neatly tucked in, because Gaia forbid the man be messy even while unconscious.

Genesis is mid-metaphysical annotation when he hears it.

"Mrrp."

His pen freezes mid-scribble. Surely not.

"Ahhh... pip."

Genesis slowly lowers his book, staring at Sephiroth like he's just announced his retirement to become a chocobo farmer. The most feared man in Wutai is… squeaking. Like a kitten. A very large, leather-clad, mako-soaked kitten with a sword taller than most infantrymen.

A soft "mrrrrrr" followed by what can only be described as a happy little sigh escapes Sephiroth's lips. One foot twitches. His nose scrunches ever so slightly.

This is it, Genesis thinks hysterically. This is how I die. Killed by acute cute aggression.

He tries to return to his reading. He really does. But then Sephiroth makes this utterly content little chirping sound, and Genesis' last remaining brain cell throws itself off the metaphorical plate.

He can't help it. Genesis launches himself across the couch, sobbing, gathering Sephiroth in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he strokes that ridiculous silver hair.

"Look at you," he whispers wetly, utterly destroyed by another tiny chirp. "The most terrifying man on the planet, and you're making kitten noises. This is devastating. This is precious. I'm going to need therapy."

Sephiroth, still dead asleep, just nuzzles closer with a soft "mrrp," completely oblivious to Genesis having an emotional breakdown over his head.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Zack is on his way to the vending machine when he hears it: the unmistakable sound of Genesis talking to a cat

"—such a precious kitten, aren't you? The cutest little thing!"

Zack's face lights up like a reactor core. They got a break room cat! He's been lobbying for a SOLDIER mascot for months! This is perfect! He can already picture it: a tiny combat-trained kitten in a custom uniform! His heart is racing. Maybe it can ride on his shoulder during missions.

He bursts through the door, beaming. "We got a cat?!?"

The words die in his throat.

There's Genesis, tears still streaming down his face, cradling their supreme commander like an oversized kitty while Sephiroth dozes peacefully in his lap, making tiny chirping noises.

They stare at each other.

Zack shuts the door and pretends it was all a fever dream.

Two weeks later, Sephiroth opens his locker and finds a cozy stuffed cat plushie, and a note that just says:

"You deserve comfort! :D —Z."

Sephiroth stares off into the distance, confused.

Angeal: The most well-behaved inmate in the entire precinct. Sits on the bench with his hands neatly folded in his lap like he's attending a PTA meeting. Cloud tells him he's under arrest and Angeal nods. He accepts it. Takes full moral responsibility. Asks if there's a broom he can use to sweep the cell while he’s there. Starts mentoring the other inmates 40 minutes in.

Genesis: Offended. Personally. Existentially. Arrested? Him? A SOLDIER First? Cloud slaps on the cuffs and Genesis acts like he's being insulted. In the cell he refuses to sit. Builds a blanket fort out of the paper towels in protest. Tries to quote constitutional law he absolutely made up on the spot. Tries to incite a riot.

Sephiroth: Absolutely does not understand the situation. Not in a "he's confused" way, but in a "clearly I'm being inconvenienced" way. Cloud slaps the cuffs on and Sephiroth just stares at him like Cloud has three heads. He cannot be getting arrested. This just doesn't compute. He just sits there, perfectly still, radiating murderous intent. Not because he's planning anything, he just naturally exudes that aura. The other inmates keep scooting further away until they're all crammed in the opposite corner. When Cloud comes to check on them, Sephiroth is still in the exact same position, having not moved a muscle in 6 hours.

Zack: Walks in willingly, helps Cloud cuff him, thanks him too like "Thanks man, I needed the break anyway. Think they'll let me keep my snacks?" Cloud questions why he brought snacks to his arrest. Zack explains it's to share with other people. Immediately befriends every other inmate, learns their names, backstories, favorite songs, blood types. Somehow organizes a push-up contest and group karaoke within the first 45 minutes. When Cloud comes to release him, nobody wants Zack to leave. One inmate hugs him. Another tries to hand him a hand-knitted beanie. Zack cries.

Leave that man alone 😭 He has exactly two sleep settings: content housecat mid-sunbeam or open-casket funeral rehearsal. Angeal and Genesis learn this the hard way, very early on in their friendship.

Genesis: ANGEAL. ANGEAL, GET IN HERE HE'S DEAD.

Angeal, sprinting in full panic-mode: WHO?!

*Sephiroth is on the bed arms crossed stiffly over his chest, legs perfectly together. He looks embalmed*

Angeal: You don't know that! He might just be asleep!

Genesis: Okay, okay, what do we do? What if he's actually dead? How do you wake him up if he's like this?"

Angeal: You say a keyword. Something that triggers his immediate consciousness. That's what I do with you and Loveless.

Genesis: That is the most condescending thing I've ever heard. I am not a sleeper agent, my mind is a steel trap. Ha. That reminds me of something my mother—

*Sephiroth bolts upright at once*

*Angeal and Genesis scream*

Genesis: "IGNORE THAT PHOTO IMMEDIATELY." He sent Sephiroth a clearly staged mirror selfie, fresh from the shower, low towel, oiled collarbones, hair like divine silk, candles and a wine glass in the background. It was clearly for Sephiroth, meant to fluster and flirt. Unfortunately, Sephiroth—being Sephiroth—read the message, saw the request, and obeyed. His reply: "Did you know a platypus produces venom?"

Sephiroth: "Disregard that image. It was an error." It was meant for Angeal, but tragically delivered to Lazard at 1:13 AM. A photo of his hand humorously giving the middle finger to the giant President Shinra statue. Lazard replied with an identical photo of himself, also giving the finger to the same statue. Sephiroth replied: "<3"

Angeal: "Oops! Ignore that, sent it by accident lol." He sent Sephiroth a selfie where he looks annoyingly good, clean lighting, perfect angle, looking sharp. Unfortunately, in the background, Zack is mid-fall off the couch, a blur of flailing limbs and an expression of terror.

Sephiroth replied: "Is Zack alright?"

Angeal: "This ain't about him. How do I look?"

Sephiroth: "Stunning."

Angeal: "Thanks man :)"

He's just like me fr

Tbh I can see that happening. The times Sephiroth actually wears a shirt—because it's cold, because he's going out in civilian clothes, or because someone (Angeal) insists he at least attempt normal human behavior—he experiences nothing but pure, undiluted rage.

The moment he puts it on, his hair immediately betrays him. He'll pull and pull, trying to free it, but there's always one stubborn strand that somehow gets trapped under his arm, coiled around his shoulder, or caught in the fabric. He adjusts the shirt? The hair pulls. He moves his arm? A whole section of it gets dragged tight against his back. It's a Sisyphean task.

He's spent entire missions quietly fuming, barely listening to debriefings because all he can think about is how the stupid fabric is touching his skin wrong. If anyone so much as breathes in his direction while he's dealing with this, they risk immediate execution.

Genesis: "Hey, Sephiroth, nice shirt—"

Sephiroth: "PERISH."

Genesis:

Wait is this because Cloud grew up isolated in Nibelheim, where exotic or unusual fruits would be a novelty to him, while Genesis, who grew up on an island known for fruit exportation, probably had them lying around? 💀

*Genesis holds up a series of pictures of exotic fruits, trying to gauge Cloud's knowledge. He holds up a picture of a dragon fruit*

Genesis: What is this?

Cloud: That kinda looks like the thing that crawled out of the reactor vents and got into my house when I was seven.

*Genesis holds up a rambutan*

Cloud: Oh, that's just like the rock formation behind the inn back in Nibelheim. You can see it if you hike far enough, but people say it's cursed.

*Genesis holds up a Buddha's hand*

Cloud: That looks exactly like the weird nests that kept showing up in the rafters of the general store.

Genesis, slamming the stack of fruit pictures down: WHY CAN'T YOU JUST SAY "THAT LOOKS LIKE A FRUIT" LIKE A NORMAL PERSON? EVEN SEPHIROTH COULD DO BETTER THAN THIS, AND HE PRACTICALLY GREW UP IN CAPTIVITY.

*Genesis holds up a picture of a horned melon*

Genesis: SEPHIROTH, WHAT IS THIS?

Sephiroth: That looks exactly like the sensory deprivation helmet Hojo made me wear when I was eight.

Genesis: I GIVE UP

*Zack strolls in, cradling a baby*

Zack: Hey, can one of you hold my baby for a sec? My arms are killing me.

Angeal: WHO'S BABY IS THAT?

*Genesis, without hesitation, happily takes the baby and starts bouncing it like an experienced uncle*

Zack: So I went in for a routine check-up with Kunsel, right? But then Hojo overheard me saying how I couldn't wait to be a dad someday, and apparently, that qualified me as the perfect candidate for his new experiment. So now I have a baby for 24 hours.

Genesis, still bouncing the baby: Zack, you have to return this child. Not only does the concept of you caring for an infant raise several concerns, but you're too young.

Zack: I can't! It's part of the experiment! If I return it early, Hojo says I'll fail fatherhood and he'll put a note in my file.

Angeal: Well, SOLDIER is no place for a baby. Can you imagine if I had one? Right now? How chaotic and unrealistic that would be?

*Sephiroth walks up to Angeal, taps him on the shoulder and extends his arms*

*Angeal picks him up like a baby and cradles him in his arms*

Zack: ….

There's stubble on his jaw. It's not much—just a little more than he usually lets grow before scraping it off with a dull razor in the showers at SOLDIER. But it's that when he looks in the mirror, there's something about it; something about the line of his jaw, the shape of his face, the stress lines on his brow.

Zack presses his fingers to his chin, thumb tracing the shadow along his cheek. He tilts his head. The light catches, and….there—

Angeal.

It's stupid. It's so stupid. He looks nothing like him. Angeal's face was sharper, older, more defined. His eyes weren't this bright, and his mouth didn't do that awkward half-smirk Zack always did. He was taller. He was broader. He was better. He was Angeal.

But still.

Still.

The stubble. That's what does it. That's what makes Zack's chest go tight, what sends his heart slamming into his ribs like a caged bird, rattling its bones against bars it can't break. He should shave. He should shave right now, before—

Zack just stands there.

He stands there and stares.

And he remembers. Angeal had always been so meticulous about shaving, even on missions.

The river babbled at their feet, the cool mist licking at their skin as Angeal ran the razor over his jaw with slow strokes. The scrape of metal against skin was barely audible over the wind threading through the trees, rustling the leaves. The crisp crunch of the apple Angeal had insisted Zack eat cut through the quiet as he aimed his jab.

"You know, for a guy who spends half his life covered in blood and dirt, you're awfully fussy about shaving," Zack said, his grin audible even without looking. The scent of sun-warmed grass and Angeal's ever-present scent of steel and something earthier—like fresh-turned soil after rain—drifted in the breeze as he wiped away the last traces of foam.

Angeal didn't rise to the bait. He never did. He simply rinsed the blade in the river, watching the water carry the lather away, and huffed. "A SOLDIER has to take care of himself," he said. "If you don't look after the little things, the big things fall apart too."

Zack used to roll his eyes at that. Used to argue, arms slung behind his head, that the war didn't care if he had a little stubble. That monsters weren't gonna stop and say "Wow, this guy's well-groomed, let's leave him alone."

But now Zack would give anything to hear Angeal say it again.

Anything.

It's been months. Longer, maybe. Time has stopped making sense. Every second is just before and after. Angeal was here. Now he isn't.

The stubble stays. He doesn't touch it. He doesn't touch it, because it's stupid and it's just hair and it means nothing.

But he knows.

He knows that Angeal died, wounds marring his rotting skin, voice steady even as he told Zack "Protect your honor, always." He knows that he had barely managed to hear him over the roaring in his ears, over the sound of the storm ripping through his mind, over the sick, horrible weight of the sword in Zack's hand, no longer being held by Angeal because he was dead, and it was dead weight, dead dead dead dead.

And now Zack is looking at himself in the mirror, and all he can see is the shadow of a man he's not.

A man he'll never be.

A man who should still be here instead.

The punch happens before he realizes he's thrown it. A sharp crack, an explosion of pain. Glass shatters. Shards pepper the sink, splinters clawing up the mirror like veins, and Zack is still standing there, fist aching, blood dripping between his knuckles, breathing fast, breathing hard, not wanting to breathe at all.

He looks down at the shards. He looks up at his own fractured reflection.

And for a moment—just a second—he swears Angeal is looking back.

Things That Happen When Sephiroth Is Sent in to Infiltrate a High-Society Gala for Opposing Shinra Info Because All the Turks Were Unavailable and All Tseng Said To Lazard Was "Send Me Your Most Competent Operative" and Didn't Elaborate Further:

• "Subtlety" is not in his vocabulary. When someone asks him what he does for a living, he says "state-sanctioned warfare" and then takes a sip of water like that's a normal answer.

• Fails at small talk immediately. A socialite asks "What brings you to the party?" He answers "I was assigned here."

• A wealthy heiress tries to drag him onto the dance floor. He locks his knees so firmly that she nearly dislocates her wrist trying to move him.

• Accidentally intimidates everyone by picking up a canapé, inspecting it like it's a foreign substance, and murmuring "Interesting. I expected more poison at an event like this."

• Trying to be sociable. A noble mentions their father is in the military. Sephiroth, meaning well, says "Ah. How unfortunate."

• A businessman brags about his company's anti-Shinra efforts. Sephiroth pulls out a recorder from his breast pocket, aims it at the man, and says "So you're admitting to treason?"

• Overhears someone say "Is That Sephiroth?" He immediately turns and replies "Yes."

• Accidentally pulls off the mission anyway. Someone offers him a drink, heavily implying an invitation to their room for other activities. He accepts, but only so he can interrogate them for information. The other person begins to undress. Sephiroth takes this as a green light to take off his shirt because it's boiling and he hates tuxedos.

All it takes is the mere sight of Sephiroth beginning to undress for the other person to spill everything they know.

• He's ambushed as he's leaving the party but fights them off effortlessly because he's a 6'7 man with a 7'0 sword and because he's Sephiroth.

Genesis: Besides being a chemist, I think he'd thrive being an agriculturalist** just dropping this in here.

Angeal: Farmer, florest, something that lets him work with the earth, hands in the soil, watching things grow and thrive.

Sephiroth: Would've ended up in something helpful and intellectual—professor, researcher, historian.

Zack: Anything outside, anything active, anything that lets him help people. Lifeguard, park ranger, firefighter. He just wants to be moving, doing something good, making sure everyone's okay.

Lazard: Has a headache because they all still act like this in SOLDIER. A slow day where no one has assignments lined up, and training and paperwork have been dealt with looks like a war zone, because that means everyone has time for hobbies.

*Lazard makes the mistake of passing by the lounge, where a tiny, suspiciously well-maintained herb garden now exists*

Lazard: Angeal, I hate to bring this up, but do you think this is an appropriate place for a vegetable garden?

Angeal: Huh? This isn't a garden. This is a mini learning experience. A garden would be the 12-by-12-foot plot I've set up on the roof without anyone noticing, where I'm currently cultivating tomatoes, carrots, pumpkins, and, experimentally, a small orchard.

Lazard: EXCUSE ME???

*Genesis strolls by, wearing a lab coat and holding a tray of flasks filled with ominous bubbling liquid*

Lazard: Please tell me those aren't explosives.

Genesis: Oh, relax. I'm merely perfecting my Banora White Soda recipe. I've been using advanced carbonic acid fermentation techniques to infuse the extracted Banora White essence into a fizzy, ethereal apple elixir. I'll create a drink so divine, lesser men will weep.

Lazard: That was too much science for me to feel safe.

*Genesis saunters off just as Sephiroth approaches, engrossed in a massive legal textbook*

Lazard: Sephiroth, please knock some sense into these men. SOLDIER is not a place for extracurricular chaos.

*Sephiroth calmly flips a page*

Sephiroth: According to Shinra Corporate Code, Section 7, Subsection 3b, employees are permitted to engage in personal hobbies on company property so long as they do not interfere with mission efficiency or pose a direct hazard to personnel.

Lazard: …Since when are you a lawyer?!

Sephiroth: I wouldn't call myself a lawyer. But it is good to be informed. I have spent too long in ignorance. If knowledge exists, I will learn it.

Lazard: That sounded ominous but okay.

*An earth-shattering explosion shakes the entire floor. Smoke billows from the materia room. Genesis staggers back into the room, covered in soot, coughing*

Genesis: Good news! I've invented a new kind of explosive!

*Before Lazard can even process that, Zack bursts into the room, fully decked out in firefighter gear*

Lazard: WHY

Zack: I'm a firefighter!

Lazard: Where's your hose??

Zack: Angeal, Genesis and Sephiroth are standing right there.

Lazard:

I hope you feel better! 🫂 🩷

Angeal: Alright! Just breathe! Whatever is making you panic is temporary in the grand scheme of things. You're strong, you've got this, and—

Sephiroth: Did you know octopuses have three hearts and their blood is blue?

Angeal: HOW IS THAT HELPFUL?

Zack: Dude, exercise always helps! Do some squats, go for a run! But if that's not an option, just lick the closest wall. The sheer confusion will reset your brain. Works for me every time.

Sephiroth: Starfish can regenerate lost limbs, and in some species, the severed limb can grow into an entirely new starfish.

Angeal: SEPHIROTH.

Genesis: Ugh, all of you are overthinking this. My dear, just drink some wine, do a skincare routine, and ascend past mortal concerns. Perhaps set an object on fire.

Sephiroth: There's a species of jellyfish that is biologically immortal.

Angeal: I AM GOING TO LOSE IT.

Cloud: Try grounding techniques. Name five things you can see, four things you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste. It helps reorient your mind to de-rail a panic attack. It's what I always do.

Sephiroth: Wombat feces are cube-shaped.

Angeal: SEPHIROTH PLEASE.

Sephiroth: Sudden distractions help divert the mind from a panic attack.

Zack: …Wait, that was actually smart?

Sephiroth: If you were to swallow a cockroach, it could survive in your throat for over thirty minutes because of its ability to hold its breath.

Angeal: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?

Angeal: Hey, Sephiroth, I hate to butt in on your personal life, but... why are you spending so much time with that trooper, Cloud? You two have been inseparable lately.

Sephiroth: Oh, so now spending time with the younger classes is a crime? Being SOLDIER Firsts doesn't make us any better than anyone else, Angeal.

Genesis: Kunsel said he heard you two outside Professor Hojo's office planning his murder.

Angeal: And in the lounge, planning a day trip to find the Temple of the Ancients, complete with detailed maps and everything.

Genesis: I also heard you were coercing Reeve's robot cat into trying to assassinate President Shinra.

Angeal: And apparently you were spotted with Zack's girlfriend, Aerith, down in the slums. What's going on?

*Sephiroth is blessed with many things, but smooth conversation and lying on the spot is absolutely not among them*

Sephiroth: Cloud is my romantic partner. All of what you just mentioned are romantic activities.

Angeal: …

Genesis: …

*Cloud walks by and greets Sephiroth*

Cloud: 'Sup asshole.

Sephiroth: That's his pet name for me.

Angeal: …

Genesis: …

Sephiroth: The legendary general of King Shinra's army, raised from birth to be a perfect warrior under the eye of Hojo, the king's physician and court alchemist. He's terrifyingly good at war, barely speaks but is frequently seen in the company of Angeal and Genesis, and has single-handedly ended every battle he's ever been in, not because he takes joy in it, but because it's what he was made to do. He does not revel in destruction, doesn't seek out bloodshed, he simply knows no other path. But if he had a choice, he'd be a farmer tending to quiet fields far from Shinra's kingdom.

Genesis: The Duke of House Rhapsodos and the kingdom's resident problem, but spends more time dueling people over perceived insults than actually governing anything. He should be handling politics and trade, but instead, he spends his days seeking duels, reciting poetry and constantly quoting an ancient epic poem that only he has memorized. Wanted to be a bard but was too good with a sword and had to fulfill familial duties.

Angeal: The kingdom's most respected knight and a man of unwavering honor. He was once a peasant who was knighted (upon Hollander's—another alchemist—insistence). He believes in justice, hard work, and Zack not embarrassing him in front of the nobility. If you commit a crime in his presence, he will personally lecture you about it. The only person who can somewhat keep Genesis in check, and the only man alive who has dared to tell Sephiroth "No."

Zack: Started as Angeal's squire, now "that one friendly knight who somehow gets along with everyone", from royals to stable boys. Has challenged a dragon to a fight just to see if he could win. (He did not.) His optimism is so powerful that it bends reality. Refuses to let Sephiroth be broody in peace. Once punched a noble for insulting Aerith and was legally declared "an issue." Always volunteers for dangerous quests and somehow never dies. The only person who can joke around with Sephiroth and live.

Cloud: A stablehand who never wanted to be involved in any of this. Came to the capital with big dreams of knighthood and now regrets everything. Somehow, against his will, has been dragged into every single royal mess. Too talented with a sword for a commoner, which makes the nobility suspicious. Zack loves him and. At least once a week, he considers faking his own death and living as a hermit.

Other lore of the medieval AU: