Betrayed and beaten, Sephiroth was unconscious. Director Gendo's were the only words echoing in his mind as timed wasted away in a cell. Before long, a ray of moonlight shining through the solitary window of the cell awoke Sephiroth. When he opened his eyes, he put his hands against the floor and pushed himself up, before falling back into a sitting position. His wounds, sustained in the fight, still stung sorely, though they no longer bled. Sephiroth's wings were still there - a reassuring fact, for they were his pride.
Sephiroth stood up, looking over toward the window and toward the moonlight. Then, he looked around the cell. There was not much in the cell, as to be expected. However, as his eyes scanned his surroundings, Sephiroth saw a woman. Dressed in black leather clothing, with two massive black wings on her back, Sephiroth knew she, too, was one of his own. And she was a fellow prisoner.
Not approaching her, for he did not want to startle her or force her into self defense, Sephiroth simply spoke.
Who are you?
He asked. Whether he was curious about the woman's identity, or simply had nothing better to do imprisoned in a cell, was anyone's guess.
Sephiroth stood up, looking over toward the window and toward the moonlight. Then, he looked around the cell. There was not much in the cell, as to be expected. However, as his eyes scanned his surroundings, Sephiroth saw a woman. Dressed in black leather clothing, with two massive black wings on her back, Sephiroth knew she, too, was one of his own. And she was a fellow prisoner.
Not approaching her, for he did not want to startle her or force her into self defense, Sephiroth simply spoke.
Who are you?
He asked. Whether he was curious about the woman's identity, or simply had nothing better to do imprisoned in a cell, was anyone's guess.